OK! You know the usual speech an author gives up here? The one where the author says this is their first fanfiction? Well, I am skipping that.
On with the new story!
I do not own any of Tolkien's characters and/or names and/or Middle Earth.
Chapter 1- Tea and Locks
I amar prestar aen…
The world is changed...
Han mathon ne nen…
I feel it in the water...
Han mathon ne chae…
I feel it in the Earth...
A han noston ned gwilith.
I smell it in the air.
Mithrellas pushed a low hanging tree branch out of the way of her head and at the same time, unconsciously stepped over a dry branch. Many years experience of living as a Ranger had kicked in and she moved near silently through the forest while her mind focused on other matters.
She had received her verbal invite to Bilbo's elventy-first birthday party the last time she had come to visit the old hobbit in the Shire. Gandalf had been there as well and the three of them had sat around for days inside Bilbo's cozy hole just reminiscing and sharing stories with Frodo. Some scar comparing had gone on between her and Bilbo at one point, but that had happened only because the hobbit had drank a bit too much ale. That particular event was never mentioned again by either party involved. Frodo, on the other hand, relished the event greatly.
Not far up ahead, she could see where the line of trees thinned out and eventually ended. She would have to start traveling the roads to reach Bag End, her destination. Mithrellas sighed, adjusted her pack, and grudgingly kept a steady pace for the opening. She much preferred the forest. She left the trees behind and made her way through a low and open meadow to a packed dirt road that wove through the Shire.
The sound of young and tinkling laughter reached her ears and after a few minutes, two hobbit children came chasing each other down the road. Mithrellas cracked a smile as they circled around the elf in dark ranger garb, peeking at the other from behind her cloak. They grew tired of the back and forth game and Mithrellas watched them take off again, heading through a small gate in front of a hobbit hole. A smile still clung to her face as she turned and continued on her way.
'No matter the state of the world,' she thought, 'the Shire remains a simple sanctuary locked in time.'
A little while later, a strange old man was knocking the end of his staff against a hobbit door.
"No, thank you! We don't want any more visitors, well wishers, or distant relations," a muffled voice yelled from behind a green hobbit door.
Gandalf the Grey smiled to himself slightly and called back, "And what about very old friends?" The perfectly round door was suddenly swung back and revealed a hobbit, who looked every bit the gentleman, looking up at the wizard.
"Gandalf?"
"Bilbo Baggins!" the wizard bellowed in a eccentric voice.
"My dear Gandalf!" Bilbo rushed forward and hugged Gandalf who had dropped to one knee.
"It's good to see you. One hundred and eleven years old, who would believe it!" the wizard looked at the hobbit's face, which was curiously without an abundance of wrinkles, closely. "You haven't aged a day!" he exclaimed in wonderment.
The two old friends laugh and enter through the hobbit's door, Gandalf having to bend double to fit. The wizard instantly looked out of place due to everything being hobbit-sized. He paid careful attention to where his head went.
"Come on, come in! Welcome, welcome!" Bilbo said as he stepped into his hall. He took the wizard's hat and staff and put them out of the way. "Oh, here we are. Tea? Or maybe something a little stronger? I've got a few bottles of the Old Winyard left. 1296 -very good year. Almost as old as I am!" he chuckled as he continued on down the hall and called back to Gandalf, "It was laid down by my father. What say we open one, eh?"
"Just tea, thank you," Gandalf replied, walking at a snail's pace after the hobbit. He managed to bump his head into the parlor's chandelier and reached up to steady it. Thinking it was safe to now move, he took another step and rammed his head right into a wooden beam on the ceiling, uttering a grunt.
Rubbing his throbbing forehead, he looked around with genuine interest at the things hanging on the wall and lying around on tables. A map of the Lonely Mountain in a frame caught his eye. He touched it with a fond smile and bent over slightly to look at it closer.
Sounds of Bilbo plottering around in the kitchen could be heard as his voice carried to Gandalf, "I was expecting you sometime last week! And I've been expecting Mithrellas for a couple months now. Then again, with her meandering around in the forest, she has lost her sense in time. Not that it matters, you both come and go as you please. Always have done and always will. Although, you caught me a bit unprepared, I'm afraid. We've only got cold chicken and a bit of pickle," He continued to ramble on about jams and cake.
Bilbo entered the study, still flap-jawing, "I could make you some eggs if you like-" The hobbit was surprised at the sudden disappearance of the wizard and he peered around, "Oh, Gandalf?"
"Just tea, thank you."Gandalf said, appearing behind Bilbo.
"Oh, right!" Bilbo said through a mouthful of sponge cake, "You don't mind if I eat, do you?"
"Oh no, not at all," Gandalf said while shaking his head. He followed Bilbo into the kitchen and sat at the hobbit sized table.
"I've got to get away from these confounded relatives hanging on the bell all day, never giving me a moment's peace!" Bilbo exclaimed. He felt as if he was trapped in his own house. He could not take a step outside without someone running up wanting to talk to him about the party. Or, of course, the Sackville-Baggins wanting to discuss something with him. Sometimes he did not mind being trapped, he needed time to work on his book. At other times, he missed being able to go on long walks. 'But that will be soon remedied,' he thought, briefly slipping a finger into the pocket of his waistcoat.
Bilbo put down his cake and stared out his open kitchen window. "I want to see mountains again, mountains Gandalf! And then find somewhere quiet where I can finish my book," he face took on a wistful look, but he was broke out of his reverie by the tea kettle. "Oh, tea!"
Gandalf, still busy arranging his much-larger-than-hobbit-sized limbs, commented absently. "So, you mean to go through with your plan, then."
Bilbo flicked his hand as a dismissal, "Yes, yes. All the arrangements are made." He picked up the pot of tea and carried it over to the table and Gandalf politely lifted the lid of the tea pot for him. "Oh, thank you."
Gandalf looked up and met Bilbo's eyes with a steady gaze. "Frodo suspects something."
Bilbo looked down, "'Course he does. He's a Baggins! Not some block-headed Bracegirdle from Hardbottle!" The hobbit finished pouring the water in the pot and hung it back in on the hook in the fireplace. The wizard still stared at Bilbo with a practiced steely gaze.
"You will tell him, won't you?"
"Yes, yes," Bilbo said, still in a unconcerned tone.
Gandalf continued to push the old hobbit further. "He's very fond of you." The wizard finally succeeded in making the hobbit crack when Bilbo breathed in and looked away.
"I know," Bilbo wandered over to the open window. "He'd probably come with me if I asked him," he chuckled, "I think, in his heart, Frodo's still in love with the Shire: the woods, the fields…little rivers."
Bilbo turned away from the window and walked back toward the table. He sat down across from the now concerned looking wizard and locked the man in grey with his own hard gaze. "I'm old, Gandalf. I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel thin...sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread," he shifted himself at the table. "I need a holiday - a very long holiday - and I don't expect I shall return. In fact, I mean not to!"
"Well, I hope you mean to! The last time you went on some 'holiday' you were quite homesick the whole way and managed to get yourself caught in lots of trouble."
Both the heads of the hobbit and the wizard snapped over to the small window at the sound of a flowing voice. A female face with a slight smile peered in at the two. The two could not see much of her except her face and chest. Her hair was a deep golden color in thick waves down past her shoulders and several small strands around her face were tied in the back. Two pointed ears could be seen, poking out of her hair. The faded brown tunic she wore was slitted a little from the collar.
"Oh, my dear Mithrellas! You are finally here!" Bilbo cried as he stood up. He hurried his way back down the hall, raising his voice as he went. "I was wondering when you would arrive, and hoping it was soon! Come on now, to the front, I will open the door."
Mithrellas looked to Gandalf, who wore a bemused expression. "Iwould have come through the door, but that hobbit has too good many accursed locks on that door." She smiled brightly at the wizard before she ducked out of sight.
Mithrellas was already at the door by the time Bilbo had unlatched his locks and as soon as the door swung open, she swiftly dropped to her knees and embraced Bilbo.
"Bilbo Baggins! Oh, how good it is to see you, mellon nin," she stated with her eyes shut and squeezing the short fellow. 'How I have missed the little shire-folk and their simple ways,'she thought to herself as she pulled away from Bilbo.
Bilbo led the elf into his lavish hobbit hole. He took her dark grey well-worn cloak, mud, blood, grass stains and all, and hung it up next to Gandalf's hat. She took off her quiver of finely fletched arrows and bow and lent them carefully against the wall. She left her sword sheathed to her hip, having grown uncomfortable with it not being at her side in the last few years.
The elf followed Bilbo to his kitchen and promptly sat next to Gandalf. The wizard rested a hand on her shoulder briefly to get her attention and then smiled at her fondly.
"What ever took you so long to reach Bag End, Mithril?" Mithril being the nickname Thorin Oakenshield and Co. had given her during the journey to the Lonely Mountain. The Dwarves found that they were not able to say 'Mithrellas' so they shortened it to Mithril, one of their most beloved metals. And while her closest friends still called her by her nickname, rumors and tales of a elvish ranger known as Mithril spread all over Middle Earth after the Battle of the Five Armies.
"Whatever took me so long?" she repeated. "I was...delayed. I had things to do and" she met Gandalf's eyes, "I had to stay in the shadows." She sighed after a moment and her face suddenly looked very tired. Gandalf returned his hand to her shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. She looked up with a sad smile on her face at the wizard and the hobbit.
"There are lots of things happening in Middle Earth. Talk of strange folk and evil abroad. Talk of demons and trolls. Most of the elves are leaving these shores to Valinor. Even the dwarves are restless, crawling out of their caves and moving around," she said in a low voice.
Bilbo looked at her with interest. "They say that the dark tower has been rebuilt. Are the rumors true?"
"Yes," she stated, in an even lower voice, almost as if someone was lying in the shadows, waiting to strike her with their dark sword if she spoke of it. "I've seen it with my own eyes. The Great-" she was cut off by Gandalf clearing his throat.
"Ah, Bilbo, would you mind getting Mithril some tea? I'm sure she is weary from her long journey, and we have a long evening ahead of us." Gandalf's smile, even though it was tight, instantly warmed the room from the chill that seemed to have crept in.
"Oh! Oh, yes of course," Bilbo scrambled up from his seat and went to the shelf to find a teacup. During this whole exchange, Mithrellas had stared at Gandalf. 'Why did he keep me from telling Bilbo about the dark lord's eye?' she thought to herself. Gandalf's actions confused her and she thought that he was acting very peculiar. The old and wise wizard always wanted to discuss the happenings of the world with her, often sharing stories. 'There's something he's not telling me. Something he is not sure of.' She was about to confront the wizard about this issue, but right then Bilbo sat back down with the cup and pored her some tea.
She lightly grasped the cup. "Hannon le, Bilbo."