Chapter Text
The night was warm, and the air was filled with the smell of ash. Soot had filled the air far and wide across the West, and had darkened all skies. Even as far away from the fire as Hobbiton, many were confused as to why the normally blue sky was filled with clouds of black smoke. Some even wandered outside to stare westward at where it had all come from, some even climbing on rooftops to see if they could get a better glimpse of what had happened in the distance. Few remained inside, and few were calm. There had been a great fire in the West, setting the entirety of another Hobbit residence ablaze.
Gandalf stood outside the house at the bottom of the hill. Its lights were off, and no noise came from inside it, much like the other houses at the bottom of Hobbiton. They could not see the smoke as well as those on top could. For all Gandalf knew, they could be completely clueless as to what all the ruckus was about. The old wizard had arrived in Hobbiton only half an hour ago, as he was on the road towards The Shire already when he received word of the great fire and what had happened at the Baggins house. He made way for Hobbiton as soon as he was informed, and was now waiting outside the house at the bottom of the hill, where the Sackville-Bagginses lived. He had never been to this place before, and only knew about it from his fellow wizards words. Many of the residents on top of the large hill that Hobbiton was were already out of bed and staring off at the distant flames. Gandalf would make no motions to reassure them of anything. Hobbits were very short-minded, and they would all soon be back in their houses, making their next meal, with no worries about the West at all.
Gandalf struck up a flame and lit his pipe. How long would it take for Elrond to arrive, he wondered as he sat down on a large rock just beside the door. They surely knew of what had happened, as Gandalf had received word from the Elf’s patronus swan about the fire. Surely, he would bring the child? No, Elrond could not leave one so important in a burning house, not after what was laid out for him. Gandalf blew a smoke ring and watched it fly through the air as he thought of all the precautions they had taken. After Galadriel’s prophecy, they could not have let it rest. Smaug had been gaining more power with each and every day, and their only hope was a halfling child in the West, not old enough to walk, let alone banish a dragon. Gandalf took another smoke of his pipe as he thought of the Baggins household now, most likely nothing but ashes among ashes, all its insides turned to soot by the dragon. He wondered if The Shire had been able to see it flying towards them in the night. Gandalf laughed as he wondered what had become of the great and powerful Smaug now. Perhaps their hope had worked after all.
A rustle came from behind one of the shrubs lining the Sackville-Baggins house. Gandalf took his eyes off of his latest smoke ring, and peered at the shrub. It did not shake or move, yet the unmistakeable sound of leaves rustling came from behind it. The wizard put away his pipe into his robes, and stood from the rock he had been sitting on. Slowly, he took steps towards the small green shrub as it continued to rustle its leaves quietly. Gandalf stooped down to look behind the leaves. There appeared to be nothing there at all.
The wizard sighed, and stood up from looking through the shrub. He took out his pipe and lit it again. “There’s no need for hiding, Elrond. I know you’re there. Put away the rabbit and come out.”
The shrub gave a final rustle, and out jumped a large brown rabbit. It stood in front of the bush for a moment, twitching its nose and looking around, before taking a great leap to the other side of the house and disappearing. The second it went behind the house an Elf stepped out, putting his wand back into his robe sleeve and scowling. “Why must you always see through my spells, old friend?”
Gandalf chuckled as he blew yet another smoke ring. “You are the one who chose to distract me instead of facing me, Elrond. The ever-popular rustling leaves distraction. You must have known I would have seen through it.” He put his pipe back into his robes. “Charming, yet amateur.”
Elrond scowled yet again. He walked to where Gandalf was standing, and stared out into the sky. “The fire has been put out. I have seen to it. The survivors have been taken back to Rivendell. My people will deal with this as best they can.”
“Wonderful.” Gandalf said, staring into the sky. He dropped his voice and looked at the Elf. “And the dragon?”
Elrond stiffened his back. “Gone. There is no body in the Shire that we could see. He seems to have vanished.” he said to the sky.
Gandalf nodded. He then turned back to look up the hill to where the Hobbits were standing. He had been right, most of them had returned back into their houses. Only children and a few female Hobbits remained outside. “I received your message about the Bagginses.”
“I assumed that was why you were here.” Elrond replied. He stared at the yellow round door, a quaint entrance to the house. His face was full of worry. “Though I do not know whether here is the best place anymore.”
“Where else would he go?” Gandalf asked the Elf. “I know of Lobelia. I know she is not the kindest soul. I also know that she is perfectly capable of taking care of a child for eleven years. The halfling will not need to be here forever. It is only to be safe.”
Elrond grabbed the sleeve of the wizard. “He cannot grow up here. These Hobbits, they are…” He searched for the words to describe the creatures. “narrow-minded. Anything that happens, they pass off within a day. They will have no idea who he is, nor know to keep him safe.”
“Speaking of the halfling, where is he?” Gandalf asked, Elrond dropping the wizard's sleeve. “Surely you did not leave him there?”
Elrond frowned. “You insult me. Beorn is on his way as we speak, with the halfling. I did not think it wise to trust him with such a thing…”
“Friend, you do not trust many.” Gandalf said. “Confide in me, now. If Beorn has been told to bring him here, he will do so.”
“You trust him?” Elrond asked.
Gandalf smiled. “I would trust Beorn with my very life.”
The two stood at the bottom of the hill in silence, staring out at the night sky. They waited patiently for a sign of something coming.
“You should have seen the Shire, friend.” Elrond said quietly, breaking the silence. “You would not have recognized it. Nearly everything is burnt to ash. Even the trees. And the Baggins house…it was the only thing that still looked like a home. Everything else was gone.”
“I understand that this is upsetting for you, Elrond.” the wizard said. “There was nothing we could do. All we can do now is make sure that the child stays safe.”
Elrond nodded. Just then, the sound of pounding feet came from across the ground. Both Elrond and Gandalf looked up just in time to see a large bear running towards them at full speed, with a bundle hanging from its mouth. The two did not run from it, instead they stayed exactly where they stood. The bear neared them and began to slow, coming to a full stop just before the gate of the Sackville-Baggins house. It dropped the large bundle onto the ground softly, and stood up on its hind legs. Before their eyes, the bear began to change its form, growing feet and hands before a body lastly, and appearing as a rather tall man with scruffy clothes and dirty hair. He coughed before picking up the bundle again.
Gandalf smiled. “Good to be seeing you, Beorn. I trust you did your job well.”
“Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t, then, would I?” he said to them, walking closer. He pushed the gate aside and stepped into the lawn, holding out the bundle for Gandalf to take. “I arrived quick as I could. I'm surprised the fire hasn’t spread to here.”
Gandalf took the bundle in his arms. “Lord Elrond has already seen to that. Thank you for you work.”
Beorn nodded. “He’s a quiet one, that halfling is. Didn’t make a sound all the way here. Pretty sure he fell asleep just as we crossed over the river.”
Gandalf walked to the yellow door. He placed the bundle down at the foot of it. “He was always meant to be great. I hope he will live up to that promise.”
“He will never know of that here.” Elrond said. “These people have no magic in their blood. What happens in eleven years, when he knows nothing of his legacy?”
Gandalf stood up. “I am sure, when the time comes, he will be ready to understand.”
A cough came from Beorn. Gandalf turned to see him staring sadly at the ground. “Come now, Beorn. It’s not goodbye.”
Beorn shook his head, hair frizzing out as he did so. “It’s not that. It’s…The Shire, Gandalf. It will never be the same again. And Belladonna. She’s gone with the place as well.”
Gandalf nodded slowly. “I know. What has happened tonight has been horrible in many ways, some of which we will never know, at least, not now. But now, we are doing all that we can. And you are forgetting, there is one thing to celebrate. We will no longer live in fear of Smaug the Terrible.”
Elrond nodded. He took out a scroll of parchment and handed it to Gandalf. “We can only hope he will remain safe.”
The wizard placed the scroll on top of the bundle. “Yes, indeed, that is all we can do.” He stood up, and smiled at the bundle. “He will need all the luck in the world. Good luck, Bilbo Baggins.”
And the three left through the gate to the Sackville-Baggins house. Of course, none of them would know anything else that would happen to young Bilbo after they left him there. They would not know of the loud shriek Lobelia Sackville-Baggins let out when she stepped out for a pipe and saw a child lying on her doorstep. They wouldn't know what she felt when she read the note that informed her of everything that had happened the previous night, nor would they know of how Bilbo would grow up inside the house at the bottom of the hill miserable, with his Aunt always chasing him around and never letting him have proper fun. But that would all come later. All that was happening now was that Elves and Dwarves and Hobbits alike all over middle-earth were raising their glasses full of ale, with sorrow for The Shire and with a loud following cry of “To Bilbo Baggins! The bravest of them all!”