Bilba stood at the edge of a broken path, darkness stretching away beneath her feet, and slumped in defeat. Rain from the earlier storm pattered on her head, sending cold rivulets sliding down the collar of her dress.
Her entire body felt like ice, but not enough to numb the pain in her feet because she hadn't considered they might not be designed to trek through mountains full of sharp rock and bitterly cold ice.
She was miserable and now she was stuck out here being rained on because she was too stupid to remember the path was gone.
Seriously, it had been like a half hour ago, and she'd been there. She'd watched the stone giants fighting, had nearly been killed by them for Yavanna's sake and yet, here she was, like an idiot thinking the path was going to just miraculously put itself back so she could trek down it.
Words ran through her mind, as biting in memory as they had been when she'd heard them out loud.
"She's been lost ever since she left home. You should never have come. You have no place among us."
Bilba flinched and clenched her jaw as pressure built between her eyes. Wouldn't that just be wonderful, if they were to come out and see her weeping in the rain?
What had she been thinking? That she was off on a lark? That she'd skip along picking flowers and stopping for picnics along the way? For Yavanna's sake, she'd worn a dress. No wonder Thorin thought so little of her. She'd given him more than enough cause.
Kili's face floated through her mind and she closed her eyes and bit back a groan. She could still remember her excitement running out the door of Bag Eng, fantasies of love and adventure filling her head.
She'd had visions of riding next to Kili and entertaining him with witty dialogue during the day and impressing him with her cooking in the evening. She'd catch him watching her out of the corner of her eye and would smile coyly and then pretend to be interested in the way ahead while all the while sneaking peeks back at him.
That had been her fantasy. In reality, she'd given no thought to the fact that she'd never ridden a horse in her life, or that the Company hadn't hired her as a cook, because they already had one.
She'd also never given any thought to the fact that Kili might give her no particular notice.
At all.
As far as he was concerned, she might as well not have existed.
At least until tonight when he couldn't have helped but her hear his uncle's scathing dismissal of her.
She was pretty sure the entire mountain had heard.
She opened her eyes and curled her hands into fists. There was no way, just no way she was letting them come out and find her out here. There was no way she was going back either, to face the long months ahead as an outcast, unwanted, unneeded.
Unnecessary.
She took a deep breath and then, carefully, started to shuffle toward the wall of the mountain. There was a small shelf of rock still there, barely a strip of jagged, uneven stone jutting out from the mountain.
She reached where it started, and felt her stomach curdle inside her.
At its thickest point, the path was probably little wider than her foot, and that was being generous.
For the briefest of seconds, she considered giving it up. Returning in defeat to the cave and putting up with their disregard and disgust until they got to a point where she could somehow find her own way back.
She shook her head at the thought almost immediately. Just the thought of alone made her want to die of humiliation, there was simply no way she could suffer through it in reality.
She steadied her nerves, and took a step out onto the ledge. She pressed her body against the wall, fingers splayed against the rock, and tried to keep her eyes focused on the far side of the path.
Don't look down, she told herself firmly. Just focus on the other side.
Something boomed over her head and she froze. Please be thunder, she thought desperately. Please be thunder.
The mountain, thankfully, stayed where it was and she tried to relax. She started to slide her foot out another step, stomach turning flips as loose rock and shale slid out from under her toes.
She edged her foot out just a little more...and the shelf crumbled away from under her.
She froze, and her brain locked, paralyzed with terror. In almost slow motion she felt her body slip backwards from the rock. As if watching from somewhere else she saw her fingers scrabble to find purchase against stone she was no longer touching.
Her stomach dropped.
Distantly, she thought she heard someone scream her name but the sound was lost to the roar of the wind past her ears.
And then she was falling.
***
She was falling.
And then she wasn't.
Bilba stood in blank confusion, eyes so wide it almost hurt, breaths coming in short, harsh pants. Her heart was racing so fast she feared it would give out, and she was trembling violently.
She was standing in a small grove of trees she didn't remember being at the base of the mountains. The trees were in bloom, light pink flowers dusted in snow. A bright sun shone down from a brilliant blue sky, lighting fat flakes of snow swirling about her. Most snow mounded under the trees and beneath her feet. Her breath frosted when she breathed, but she didn't feel cold.
Bilba crossed her arms nervously. Was this it? Had she died and this was what came after?
Her lips pursed and she swallowed thickly.
She hadn't wanted to die.
She'd wanted to go home, sit in her chair again and forget she'd ever tried to go on an adventure where no one wanted her around. She could just imagine the disgust on their faces when they realized she'd gone and managed to get herself killed like an idiot. Especially Thorin. He'd probably –
"Greetings, daughter of Earth."
Bilba shrieked, not only because the voice came from behind her without warning, but also because it sounded very much like Thorin's.
It would be just her luck that she'd get herself killed and somehow end up in an afterlife populated by doubles of Thorin Oakenshield.
She whirled around, and let out an audible sigh of relief at the sight of a Man standing behind her. He was tall, as Men tended to be, with long dark hair and a powerful build. In those areas he did remind her of dwarves, but not that dwarf thankfully, and also not the one she'd been foolishly pining for, which was also nice.
Suddenly realizing that she was simply staring at him, Bilba shook herself out of her own thoughts, and forced a smile. "Greetings. Could you possibly tell me where I am?"
Please don't say the afterlife, she thought. Please don't say the afterlife.
The man's eyes narrowed and his mouth quirked as if in some private amusement. "Where do you think you are?"
"I really can't say," Bilba confessed. She was beginning to calm down as she spoke to him, her heart slowing and and her shivering easing. There was something strangely non-threatening about the Man, in spite of him being a complete stranger.
She looked up, planning to show him where she'd fallen from, only to freeze in shock.
There was no mountain.
Over her head all she could see was the tops of trees and blue sky, stretching for miles in every direction.
"Is there a problem?" the man asked, voice casual.
Heart back to to thundering in his chest, Bilba turned her attention back to him. "I'm dead, aren't I?" she asked. A sick feeling settled in her gut, along with renewed despair.
She really hadn't been able to do anything right, had she?
"Are you?" the man asked. "Do you feel dead?"
Bilba frowned at him. "I don't – I've never been dead before. I wouldn't know how it felt." She hesitated. "It would seem I'm not where I was before, though, and that doesn't seem very encouraging."
"Hmmm," the man looked around himself, taking in their surroundings. "I would say this is a far cry better than where you were a moment ago, wouldn't you, Bilba Baggins?" With the last he turned to look her directly in the eyes and Bilba felt her heart stutter in her chest.
"How do you know my –" Her eyes widened and she dropped to her knees immediately, head down. "My apologies, my Lord. I didn't recognize you."
She still didn't recognize him to be honest. There were multiple male Valar and she couldn't remember enough about them to know them on sight. She'd always been more concerned with Yavanna, and why in the world wasn't she there?
Perhaps, Bilba thought, because she was so useless that not even Yavanna wanted to see her and instead had foisted the task on...her...husband?
Mahal?
"Rise, child," the Valar said, amused. "And, worry not. My wife isn't here because you are, in fact, not dead. At least not yet."
BIlba's head jerked up and hope rushed through her. "Really?"
"Really," Mahal said dryly. He indicated and Bilba quickly scrambled to her feet, dusting the snow off her skirts in an attempt to look at least a little presentable.
She looked at him expectantly, but he merely raised an eyebrow in return. After the silence stretched for several long, awkward minutes, she cleared her throat and timidly asked, "So, um, can I ask what's going on?"
"What do you think is going on?"
Oh, great, Bilba thought, it was worse than trying to talk to Gandalf. She wouldn't have thought it possible, but here they were.
"I don't know." She tried to sound polite, she really did. "I fell off a cliff on my way back home and –" she swept out her arms to indicate their current surroundings. "And you say I'm not dead–" yet, he had said yet but she decided to overlook that part, "so I'm not really sure what's going on."
Mahal nodded his head to the side. "Walk with me, child."
He started off without waiting and Bilba hustled forward to fall in alongside him.
"Why were you returning home?" Mahal asked without preamble.
Bilba's shoulders sagged and she clasped her hands in front of her. "Because I'm useless," she said softly, "and no one even wanted me there."
"Is that so?" Mahal mused. "And if I were to tell you that, without your presence to distract the trolls, three of your number would have been killed before Olorin arrived?"
Bilba's eyebrows drew together. "Olorin?"
"Gandalf," he clarified.
"Oh." Bilba focused on her feet where they were scuffing through the snow. "In that case, I'm glad I could help, but it doesn't mean I was of any real use overall, or that I would be. Thorin was right. I shouldn't have come."
Mahal sighed. "Thorin tends to be one of my more stubborn children, but he carries much upon his shoulders. His people starve while he tries to secure their future."
"I didn't know that." Bilba felt a rush of sympathy for the surly dwarf.
"And still he tries, even after those who owe him their loyalty refuse to help." Mahal's eyes turned hard, and Bilba felt a bite to the air for the first time. "Their actions will not be forgotten."
Bilba was suddenly very glad she wasn't one of the dwarven lords who'd refused to help Thorin in his quest. "I didn't realize it was so very important," she confessed quietly. "I'm happy I was able to help with the trolls, but I'm sure my leaving now is for the best. I'd have only been a burden, and they can't have that on a quest this important."
"Is that so?" Mahal frowned, eyes fixed on some empty spot in the distance. "Would you like to see how things will happen without you there?"
Bilba was taken aback. "Would things change that much? I can't have been very important."
"So you say," Mahal countered, "and yet I have just told you what would have happened if you'd been absent during the encounter with the trolls."
"Sure," Bilba said nervously, "but that was just a lucky thing. Being useful once doesn't mean I'd be useful again. I doubt they'd even notice if I was gone."
Her mind went back to Kili again and the way he'd stared after the female elves in Rivendell. He'd never looked at her that way. She might as well have been a fellow male for all he took notice of her, no matter how much effort she tried to take in her appearance.
"Would they?" Mahal asked quietly.
He waved a hand, and the landscape in front of them simply...melted away as if it had never been there.
Instead she found herself staring into the foyer of Bag End as her past self, ran to answer the front door.
It hadn't been all that long ago, but it felt like another lifetime. Almost as if the young woman she was watching was someone else entirely.
Her past self jerked the door open to reveal Fili and Kili standing on the other side. Bilba remembered his part very well. She'd been dazzled by Kili almost immediately and had started stammering and acting like an idiot, struggling to look both cute and alluring at the same time.
She'd thought, at the time, she'd done a good job. Now, looking at it from the outside, she could see she looked awkward and silly. Kili appeared to take no particular notice, breezing past her as if she weren't even there.
Fili took the time to stop and talk to her, and Bilba mentally cringed at how dismissive she was toward him, eyes instead following Kili as he wandered off toward the kitchens.
The scene shifted to the next day when she'd run after the Company and Fili and Kili helped her into a saddle. She'd been enamored with the fact that Kili had touched her, however so briefly, and had simply stared at the spot on her arm, trying to convince herself that it meant something.
Yet again, as she watched from the outside, she saw something she hadn't seen the first time. Fili trying to speak to her, only to give up when it became clear she wasn't listening.
After this the images sped up, scene after scene of Fili ensuring she got food before he did, helping her on her pony, riding beside her and keeping her company, and then quietly backing away any time Kili approached.
Bilba flinched, remembering their time in Rivendell when Fili had invited her on a walk and they'd spent a pleasant afternoon seeing all the sights in the area. It was only now, with the scenes stitched together, that she realized he'd only invited her after she'd expressed excitement over being there and a desire to see everything.
Bilba had been aware of Fili during their time on the quest. He was a friend, someone easy to talk to and fun to spend time with. Watching the scenes as Mahal was showing her, revealed another level she hadn't even been aware of.
Fili had been interested in her.
At least at first. He'd been trying to approach her, court her.
And she, in turn, had spent all her time fawning over Kili who hadn't given her the time of day. Fili had clearly caught on, and had politely dropped back to not just being a friend, but to actively trying to help and encourage her when it came to her infatuation with his brother.
And she'd never even noticed.
"It would seem at least one would have noticed," Mahal mused.
"So it would appear," Bilba agreed in a low whisper.
Guilt assailed her for how often she'd simply dismissed or outright ignored him the second Kili had shown up. She'd treated him as an afterthought, and he'd taken it all with quiet grace and continued to treat her as a dear friend.
Her mother would have been ashamed of her behavior.
The scenes faded, Fili along with it, and left her simply standing back in the snow lit woods.
Bilba wasn't sure how to feel. On the one hand, it was nice to realize at least one dwarf would have missed her.
Bofur's face as he'd said good-bye to her flashed through her mind and she flinched again.
Two. Two would have missed her.
"And perhaps more," Mahal said in a low voice next to her. "Only one was cruel to you and, though there is no excuse for bad behavior, I have found mortals are apt to speak rashly in moments of high stress."
Bilba grimaced, moments when she'd spoken without thought coming easily to mind. It didn't mean she felt Thorin was justified, or that he didn't owe her an apology, but it did help her understand a little more at least.
They were both mortal, and sometimes they said things they shouldn't. Thorin certainly didn't want her there, but if she were being honest, he had cause. She wasn't prepared for any of this, had no idea why Gandalf had chosen her of all people to join.
"I was running away," she whispered, focused on her hands where they were clasped in front of her. "It's been so much harder than I thought it would be."
"And yet you've already come so far," Mahal responded. "You've done splendidly, and managed to save three of their lives, whether they know it or not."
BIlba gave a weak smile as the words sent a warm feeling through her.
That feeling was dispelled a moment later when Mahal's expression turned grave. "Would you like to know how things will go without you?"
Bilba felt uneasy, but nodded. "Okay."
It couldn't be that bad, after all, could it? How much difference could one, small hobbit make? Thorin was a capable warrior in his own right, and had an entire contingent behind him. Perhaps she'd been wrong about her absence going unnoticed, but that didn't mean her presence would make any sort of actual difference to the quest.
Really, Gandalf had claimed they needed a burglar when they already had Nori who actually knew what he was doing. Why in the world Gandalf had seen fit to add someone else, and someone like her who was wildly ill equipped for anything that didn't involve her garden, kitchen or library was beyond her.
Mahal nodded...and her mind shattered.
Images, and sensations flooded her, overwhelming over.
Bitter cold.
A single, lonely peak silhouetted against an empty sky.
A massive, baleful eye.
Fire.
The roar of an army flooding across a plain.
The sharp gasp of a last breath.
Screams.
"Go back to your books, and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people valued home above gold ... this world would be a merrier place."
Her own gut wrenching sobs.
Silent forms laid out on slabs.
Death.
Bilba staggered and fell to her knees. Her breath was ragged, and her throat burned as if she'd been screaming.
She lifted a trembling hand to her face and felt the wetness of tears streaming down. Her heart thundered in her chest, and her head pounded with a truly spectacular headache.
Mahal knelt in front of her and Bilba looked up at him in shock. "They die? All three of them?" And that was only part of it. Yavanna, the fire on the lake, and the army...so much death. She shook her head. "You can't possibly be suggesting I can change any of that?"
"Why not?" Mahal asked. "Even the smallest person can change the course of the world. Many of the heroes you read about in your books were but one person, set out on a great adventure."
Bilba scrubbed her hands aggressively over her face. She settled back on her heels and took a shuddering breath. "What do you want me to do?"
Mahal put a hand on her shoulder. "The question, my dear, is what do you want to do?"
Bilba pushed to her feet. "Are you saying I could still go home?"
"If you wish." Mahal had stood to face her. "If you so desire, you can be back in Bag End, safe and warm and surrounded by your books."
Bilba crossed her arms. Right then, the stench of blood in her nostrils and the echo of screams in her ears, going home sounded exactly like what she wanted to do.
Just...go home and crawl into her bed, hide under the covers and go to sleep. Then, maybe, tomorrow she'd brew herself a nice pot of tea, find a good book and go out to the bench outside her backdoor.
She'd sit down, and open her book...and spend the rest of the day feeling the heat of fire as it scorched through buildings. Feel the tremor under her as thousands of feet marched upon the earth. Picture the Durins marching to their deaths.
Sweet, kind Fili.
Exuberant, funny Kili.
Even Thorin for all his stubbornness and irritation still commanded her respect in other ways. His love for his nephews. The loyalty he'd so clearly earned from those following him. His desire to regain Erebor for his people.
She didn't want to see them die.
She shut her eyes and tightened her arms until she was hugging herself. "I can save them? All of them?"
"Perhaps," Mahal said, his voice toneless. "Is that your choice then? To try and save them?"
Bilba took a deep breath and then opened her eyes. Fear curdled low in her gut, but there was a fire in her eyes and her voice was steady when she spoke. "Yes. Please, send me–"
***
The shelf crumbled away from under her..
Her body froze, and her brain locked, paralyzed with terror. In almost slow motion she felt her body slip backwards from the rock. As if watching from somewhere else she saw her fingers scrabble to find purchase against stone she was no longer touching.
Her stomach dropped as she began to fall away.
A hand grabbed the edge of her skirt and yanked, hard. Her body flew to the side, and an arm wrapped around her waist and wrenched her back.
She landed, not on hard rock but a firm body, arms closed tightly around her waist.
She twisted enough to look up and found herself looking at Fili who, in turn, had his head back and his eyes heavenward while he tried to catch his breath. As if sensing her gaze, his eyes flicked to hers. "Are you all right?"
Bilba nodded shakily. Fili let out a sigh of relief and then began to struggle to a seated position. They were pretty well tangled together and, at one point, Bilba found herself quite firmly seated on his lap with her face mere inches from his.
His eyes widened and he flushed. "Sorry," he said quickly, putting his hands to her waist to move her off. "I'm –"
The last bit was cut off in an "oof" as Bilba lunged forward and threw her arms around him, hugging him. The images Mahal had shown her – the look in his eyes as a blade was driven through him, the grief that had washed over her at the sight of him laid out on a slab – ran through her mind and she hugged him tighter.
"Hey," he said softly, completely misunderstanding the reason for her upset, "it's okay." He hugged her back just as tightly. "You're all right."
Bilba buried her face in her arms, and against his neck. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have left. I don't know what I was thinking."
Fili urged her back and took her face in his hands. "It's fine. I just wish you'd have said something. If you'd wanted to go home, I'd have been happy to take you." His mouth quirked into a self-deprecating smile. "Or perhaps I could have convinced Kili."
"I don't want your brother to take me," Bilba muttered. "I'm not interested in him anymore." She laughed quietly. "He made it pretty clear he isn't interested. I just wasn't listening."
Fili went still. "Is that so. Decided to give up on romantic entanglements?"
Bilba smiled at the clumsy attempt to ask her a question without actually asking her a question. She met his eyes, and was mildly surprised at the flutter that ran through her stomach. Perhaps she hadn't been as immune to him as she'd once thought. Perhaps she just hadn't been paying attention. "I don't know yet," she said shyly, "but I'm open to possibilities."
Fili grinned broadly. He gently moved her off his lap, got up and helped her to her feet. It was still raining, and Bilba didn't resist as he took her hand to lead her back to the cave. The rock was wet and slippery and she didn't relish the thought of falling for a second time.
Besides, she thought as she put her shoulders back and lifted her chin. She couldn't fall.
People needed her.
She wouldn't let them down.
***
In midair, invisible to the mortal eye, Aule stood and watched as one of his children led the young hobbit back to the temporary safety of the cave.
A figure stepped beside him and he nodded his head respectfully. "Father."
"You might be surprised," Eru started without preamble, "to learn that the pattern has changed and the line of Durin is no longer fated to end at Ravenshill."
"Is that so?" Aule asked innocently.
Eru gave him a look of pure exasperation. "You were meant to show her what would happen if she went home, not what would happen either way."
"I did show her what would happen if she wasn't there," Aule explained. "In that battle she would have been knocked unconscious early on, hence, not there." Eru gave him a look that was decidedly not amused and Aule held his arms out helplessly. "It was that or listen to Durin endlessly complain about the end of his line."
"How is it," Eru asked, "that he even found out?"
"He may have overhead me discussing it with my wife." Aule gave an unrepentant grin and Eru shook his head.
"You're fortunate you did not change things for the worse," he said with affection.
"I should have changed them for the better," Aule said hopefully. "The ring will be far closer to Mordor when the time comes, and Frodo Baggins and his friends will be untouched by Sauron's evil."
Eru was silent, contemplating. Aule had no doubt that not every change would be positive, and he hoped Eru would be willing to adjust things to get the desired results, and not simply insist it all be put back to the way it had been.
After a second, Eru sighed. "I'm far too lenient with you."
Aule grinned brilliantly, and then he was alone. He stayed where he was a few minutes later, watching as the hobbit reached the cave with her young dwarf. Idly, he wondered how long it would take for them to learn they were each other's Ones.
Or that the relationship was a gift, meant to strengthen her for the trials to come.
"Stay strong, little hobbit," he whispered after her as she vanished from sight. "You will need it for the days ahead."
Then he was gone, and all that was left was the wind howling through the crevices, and the patter of rain upon the rocks.