Yavanna's Warriors

BY : Lady_Laran
Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > Hobbit, The
Dragon prints: 5209
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Hobbit" nor do I make money from this story.

Author’s Note – Well, I was reading something the other day that happened to spark another rabid wombat from the wombat kennel.  My readers know that those plot wombats are not just rabid but also have incredibly sharp teeth and do not want to let go after they’ve sunk into me.

This may seem a tad odd at first, but please keep on reading.  The mythos of this take of Middle Earth will be shown to you soon enough.  I just hope the story pleases and takes you on another journey.  Thank you for reading!

Disclaimer – I do not own “The Hobbit” nor do I make any money from this story.  I’m just a crazy writing have a bit of fun!

Chapter One – Acquiring the Burglar

Bilbo Baggins hummed to himself as weeded the memorial garden he had planted for his parents after their deaths several years ago.  The flowers were doing well, and the scent of his father’s favorite lily of the valley soothed him while his hands dug into the soft earth to remove the unwanted plants.

“There you are, Bilbo Baggins.  You are one difficult hobbit to find,” a deep voice called out, dragging the young hobbit out of his pleasant thoughts.

“I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage,” Bilbo called out, watching the gray robed figure standing near him.  Something about the man was familiar, but the Master of Bag End was not quite certain what it was.

“I am Gandalf the Gray,” the wizard introduced himself.  “You knew me when you were much younger; I was a friend of your mother’s.”

“Oh yes, I remember now,” he answered softly.  “The wizard that guided Mother through her adventures,” he replied, rising to his feet and shaking the dirt off of his hands.  “You have not been seen in the Shire for quite a long time, Gandalf.   I know my grandfather has missed you.”

“I know it has been a long while; I just could not return to the Shire after hearing of her loss,” Gandalf said, looking very sad.  “The Thain knows of my reasons for not being here before now, and we do keep in touch through letters.”

“That he did not mention,” Bilbo replied.  “However, he is busy with his responsibilities and there are other things to talk about besides missing friends and family.  What brings you back to the Shire,” he asked, moving into the shadow so he could look up at the wizard.

“Actually, I am looking for someone to share in an adventure,” the gray wizard answered, watching the young hobbit.

Bilbo was silent for a moment, brushing a stubborn lock of curly hair out of his eyes. 

“Is this an adventure that would take someone out of the Shire,” he asked, meeting the blue-gray eyes of his mother’s friend.

“It would indeed, and I was hoping that you would come along for it,” Gandalf said.  “I remember you being full of spirit and a thirst for adventure when you were a fauntling.”

“My grandparents would say that hasn’t changed for me, but I know it has been tempered somewhat due to my responsibilities.  Gandalf, you know I cannot leave the Shire without the Blessing and that requires you speaking to the Thain about it.  This is a binding Rule that has been set down for as long as my people have existed.”

“I had somewhat forgotten,” the bearded man answered, looking sheepish as he admitted to that failing.  “I shall gather the group and head to the Thain’s home so that the leader of the company and myself can present the request to him.”

The hobbit gave him a gentle smile, easily forgiving the wizard for his forgetfulness.  He knew the man didn’t fully understand their ways, but it was easily remedied.

“Regardless of the answer, this company and yourself are welcome to stay in Bag End until they are ready to depart,” he offered.  “Tookborough can be overwhelming for those not used to it.”

“I thank you for the invitation, Bilbo.  With myself included, the number will be fourteen and we shall be at your grandfather’s house tomorrow.”

“Fourteen?  Oh my goodness, I’ve not hosted a dinner party that size before,” he said.  “Gandalf, if they are men, they might not find my home comfortable.  I’ve only enough man sized furniture and the like for one.”

“Worry not, Bilbo, they are dwarves and will find your home just the right size for them.  I will see you tomorrow then, my young friend,” Gandalf said, hurrying out of the yard and onto the road with the hobbit watching him.

Once his guest was gone, Bilbo quickly cleaned up, then headed to his gardener’s home.  He spoke to Holman’s wife first, feeling relieved that she would be willing to watch over the meals being cooked once he was called to his grandfather’s home.  Afterwards, he engaged Holman and Hamfast, the gardener’s apprentice, to help him move heavy furniture to prepare for tomorrow.

Within an hour, the three hobbits had the dining area set up for fifteen people as well as ensuring everything was in place for his guests.  Bilbo thanked them with some coin and a basket of treats he’d baked the day before, knowing they would enjoy them.

Once that was finished, he set meats to marinade overnight and began baking throughout the rest of the day to ensure that everything would be ready for the next day.

Bilbo woke early the next morning and after dressing, he put two pots of heavy stew on to simmer through the day.  The hobbit soon had a broad assortment of snacks prepared so he could feed those to his guests while the rest of the meal was put together when he and the company returned to Bag End.  The table was set, bedding aired and ready for the night by the time the message came to him that his presence was required at his grandfather’s home.

Holman’s wife took the list he gave her and headed into his home to continue the work he’d started, turning his offer of part of the meal for her family down.  He smiled at the good woman before hurrying off to the Thain’s house at a good pace.  Leaving guests or his grandfather to wait was not a good thing.

When he arrived at the large smial, his grandmother opened the door and gave him a warm hug before sending him to his grandfather’s study.

“Bilbo, my boy, I am glad you came so promptly,” the Thain said with a smile, rising to greet the child of his beloved daughter.

“I had no wish to leave you or your guests waiting for very long,” he admitted with a shy smile that made his eyes light up.

“You did well,” the head of the Took family told him.  “Shall I introduce my guests to you before we head to outside to the Grotto to present their request and ask for guidance?”

“I would love to meet them, Grandfather,” Bilbo replied, turning alongside his family member to face the fourteen individuals sitting in the study.

“Gandalf you know already,” Gerontius began.  “These are Dori, Nori, and Ori,”

The three dwarves rose, giving polite bows as Bilbo did the same.  Once they sat down, the introductions continued.

“The next three are the Brothers Ur, Bofur, Bifur, and Bombur,” he said.  “We also have Gloin and Oin, who are brothers as well.  The next two are Balin and Dwalin, and seated beside them are Fili and Kili.  Lastly, we have Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the company.”

“Welcome to the Shire,” Bilbo greeted, smiling that shy smile again before turning to his grandfather.  “Shall we head to the Grotto,” he asked, knowing the dwarves would be anxious to hear the answer to the question as to whether or not he could go with them. 

“We shall indeed,” he replied.  “I shall go tell your grandmother where we will be so she’ll know not to send anyone looking for me.  In the meantime, please tell our guests of what needs to be done for this?”

He nodded, waiting until the older hobbit had left before speaking to the dwarves and wizard.

“I know this may be uncomfortable for you due to tradition and the like, but there are a few things that must be done before I lead you outside.  First of all, please remove your boots, armor, and all weapons you have with you.  No one can enter the Grotto armed.  To do so will invite trouble that we do not wish to see happen.  I’ve no wish to see any bad luck follow you on your quest.”

There was quite a bit of grumbling, but a sharp word from Thorin silenced them as they followed Bilbo’s request.  Once done, the hobbit spoke again.

“Thank you,” he started.  “Where we are going is a sacred place to us.  I must ask that none of you ever speak of what you will see or discover here to anyone.  Like your people, we hobbits also prefer to keep our culture hidden.”

“You have my word that nothing will be revealed,” the dwarf leader told the young hobbit.  His own people were a secretive race, and the king would ensure his word was kept regarding what they learned about the hobbits’ culture.

“Thank you, Master Oakenshield.  Now, if all of you will follow me?”

Bilbo led the group outside and onto a well maintained path as he headed towards the Grotto.  The young hobbit had spent many hours of his life here and knew the way well enough to travel to it blind folded.

The group of dwarves behind him drew in a sharp breath at the sight of the Grotto.  It was impressive with stone pillars and arches that formed a cathedral.  Beautiful flowers and ivy grew along the pillars and spread along the arches to provide a roof that cast shadows and hues of color from the blossoms onto the soft grass of the Grotto.  What was interesting is that the plant life, while growing abundantly, never covered the carvings along the stone.

“I thought hobbits did not work with stone,” Balin asked, staring in awe at the stonework that had been done for this sacred area.

“We do not,” Bilbo answered.  “When my people were led here by our Parents, we were met by dwarves who helped us build the Grotto as well as ensuring we had what we needed to survive.  Even exposed to the elements, the carvings have never faded and they tell the tale of how we were created, taught, protected, and of our journey here to the Shire.”

“It’s amazing work,” Bofur murmured, still staring at the beautiful Grotto.  “I’d no idea that any of our people had been in the Shire before.”

“It isn’t as often as we would like, but we do welcome them when they come,” the hobbit replied, turning when he heard footsteps.  He spotted his grandfather making his way towards them.

“Adamanta is watching for anyone who might require me,” Gerontius said, nodding at Gandalf.  “So this can be done without interruption.”

The Thain led them into the Grotto, and the company was taken aback yet again by the soft, short grass that tickled their feet.  None of them spoke a word, not wanting to break the reverent silence that filled the sacred area.  Only the soft breeze made a bit of noise as it danced around the elegantly carved columns and arches.

Bilbo and his grandfather moved to a beautifully carved altar, placing a basket of fruit and grain onto it.  The sharp eyes of the dwarves could spot pieces of quartz of various colors that had been worked into the intricate weave of the basket.  Two elegantly carved candles were placed into holders that had been worked from the stone of the altar. 

To the dwarves, this was a masterful piece of work and all of them wondered who had been the dwarves that had created all of this with the early hobbits.  It astounded them to know that such a harmonious place, created by the hands of two different races, existed.

Soft chanting in a tongue none of the dwarves or wizard understood was heard, filling the air as the words were carried away by the breeze.  The voices soon quieted as a powerful presence swelled within the Grotto and before long, two figures appeared in front of the altar.  The dwarves immediately recognized one and, as one unit, all thirteen sank to their knees with their heads bowed in front of their creator and his wife.

“Greetings, my children,” a beautiful feminine voice called out in gentle tones.  “We have heard your summons and have come.  Gerontius, Thain of my children, what is it you seek?”

The older hobbit smiled, head bowed in respect.

“Our Father’s children have come, seeking the aid of one of Your Chosen, Mother,” he began.  “It is an honorable quest, but we do know that Your Chosen cannot leave the Shire without the Blessing of our Parents.”

The eyes of the two Valar moved to look over the children of Mahal, and the male Vala addressed the group.

“You seek to reclaim your home,” the creator of the dwarves began.  “Why do you seek this?”

Thorin’s voice was reverent as he answered the question put to them; his head never lifted from its bowed position.

“I seek a home and shelter for my people, Great Father,” he told him.  “We have suffered so much since the worm took our home, and I would see us have shelter where we can raise our families without fear of attacks or starvation.”

“There are thoughts troubling you, son,” he commented, watching the descendent of one of the first dwarves he had made.

“I fear that we will fail, Great Father.  I also fear the curse that has followed my line; I do not want my sister-sons or myself to fall under that curse,” the exiled king replied, sounding troubled and honest.

“I am aware of that curse, son, and if you remain true to the wish of finding a place of refuge for your people, then I will not abandon you to that fate. 

“Thorin, son of the line of Durin, my children have forgotten their brothers and sisters.  In doing so, you and your people have become bitter towards men and elves.  In your own heart, you resent the addition of what you call an ‘outsider,’ do you not?”

“Yes, Great Father,” he admitted, fists clenching at his side. 

“You forgot about my loving wife’s children, who could have helped you and yours had you remembered.  The memory of the hobbits are long, and they would not have turned you away.  It is time you and yours open your hearts to your siblings, my child, for although the hobbits are the creation of my wife, I love them and gave them gifts as she has given my children gifts.  The two are meant to work together in all things.”

“Yes, Great Father,” he replied, hearing the soft agreements of his fellow dwarves. 

Somehow, their history had managed to erase the fact that Mahal also favored the children of his wife and the bond between the two peoples.  Thorin would ensure that it was brought back to the histories and would speak to Dwalin and Ori about it.  Maybe the hobbits had information they could share so that the histories could be complete once again.

“I will not forget you,” Yavanna’s gentle voice reassured the dwarf king.  “Like my husband, I shall do all I can to ensure the wellbeing of my husband’s children for I love them as dearly as I love my own children.  Fear not, Thorin, for you have not been forgotten.

“Gerontius, it has long been questioned as to why the number of my Chosen changed in Bilbo’s generation and now you shall see why this is.”

Both Valar turned their gazes to the young hobbit beside the Thain.  Their gazes were gentle but firm, matching their voices as each spoke in turn.

“Young hobbit, we knew you were needed for events beyond the borders of this peaceful home my wife has created for you.  At your birth, I not only gave you my blessing but also two gifts.  The reason for this has now been revealed.”

“You, my dearest son, have been chosen to heal the gap between my husband’s children and my own offspring,” Yavanna told him.  “You will help them regain their home, work to heal the land that the worm has destroyed, and teach them about their siblings.  Your heart will call the mountain home and bless the kingdom with your love and devotion.  My husband’s children will heal due to you and later, my children and his will share the love of both myself and Mahal.”

A tremor went through the slender form of the young hobbit, listening to his Mother’s words.  He knew what it meant, and his heart threatened to break for it meant that he would no longer call the Shire home.

“Mourn not, my little one, for the rewards shall be great for you and my husband’s children after the trials have been faced,” she reassured him. 

“As You will it,” Bilbo answered.  “I shall heed Your commands, Great Mother.”

“Our Blessing is given,” Yavanna said to Gerontius.  “My Chosen may leave this green home to help my husband’s children and himself to find the home that their hearts have longed for.”

“We shall miss him, Great Mother, but we will be proud of him for being the one You have chosen to help our brothers and sisters.”

“Be safe,” she said with a soft smile.  “And know you are loved.”

The two Valar disappeared, taking the food the hobbits had left for them as an offering.  The candles guttered out, and everything was silent.

“Well, it seems we have our burglar,” the wizard stated dryly, breaking the silence that had fallen within the Grotto.

Bilbo collected himself, giving his grandfather a hug before murmuring something in his ear.  The old hobbit nodded a few times, whispering something in return.  After that discourse was handled, the younger male headed towards the group.

“Master Oakenshield, I would be honored to host you and your company within my home.  Given the circumstances of our trip, I will need two days to see to it that my estate here in the Shire is settled before I leave with you.  This should give your party a chance to rest as well as take advantage of our markets to stock up on goods for the trip,” he said to the dwarf king.

“I thank you for your hospitality, Master Baggins, and two days will be fine,” Thorin told him.  He didn’t like waiting, but he knew that Bilbo would not be returning home and it was only fair to give him time to get things settled.

“If you and your company will go retrieve your belongings, we shall head to Bag End,” Bilbo said to him, giving a small smile as the group of dwarves and wizard hurried into his grandfather’s smial to get what belonged to them.

Once alone, Gerontius gave his grandson a hug before heading in to talk to Adamanta about what was going on.  Like him, she would be proud but heartbroken at the idea of their oldest daughter’s only child leaving their green home.

Bilbo leaned against a tree, eyes sweeping over his grandfather’s home and lands.  There was a mingled look of sadness and excitement in the blue depths; he would miss his home here in the Shire, but the idea of a new home was not unappealing either.   He wasn’t sure what to expect but could not wait for the start of his journey.

Author’s End Note -  And here we go!  I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and I’ll have the next one up when I can.  I’ve got a long list of projects to work on and update.  Any mistakes here regarding the world of Tolkien, please let me know.  Some of them were due to my twisting the story and adding my own ideas into it.  See everyone next chapter!  ~ Laran

 

 



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