A/N: Hi! This is my first fan fiction so if you like it/don't like it please, please review - I welcome all kinds of commentary/critique. It's still in it's very early stages so I am also open to suggestions.
Disclaimer: I own none of Tolkien's characters/wisdom
Chapter One:- Suspicion
A faint hum on the wind blew through the village, enticing folk out of their houses and into the street. As the volume grew and the voice took form, the allure of the melody deepened; seducing their bodies and overtaking their minds. Euphoria struck them and in their faces reflected the happiness of a young spirit exercising a talent. The voice in the air was quite clear now, and it danced in the atmosphere with both youthful innocence and devious intent at once.
Gandalf took a deep drag of his pipe and eyed the scene unfolding before him suspiciously. From where he was sat, on a flagstone beneath the shadow of a well, he could see neither demon nor foe that could overtake minds with such ease. What effect the voice had over these villagers was not entirely clear. Yet he could see the distinct signs of elation in the features of each face, for their eyes were alight with pleasure and their breathing had quickened. As he stood and began advancing towards the nearest villager with curiosity, the song in the air disappeared. The entrancement ceased and the magic lifted, and the thick blanket that had covered the air seemed to disintegrate. The villagers shook off the passing moment with confusion and Gandalf was left entirely perplexed.
He took a moment to disguise his bewilderment, for a wizard to appear as one without knowledge could never bode well. What had just happened right before his eyes? He knew of no wandering sorcerers or fellow Istari that possessed such a power. Saruman the White had never spoken of powers to control a mind in this manner, especially from a great distance and under heavy concealment. It had been heard of that descendants of the Dúnedain could, in instances, possess elements of foresight. But he had not encountered one with that ability in an age. Or with any ability nearing this sort. Could it be that there was a member of this isolated village who possessed a power unheard of before in his time? Where had they learnt to wield this influence?
He thought of where he might find the answers to his questions, and hastily turned to retrieve his horse from the nearby stable when he noticed a small figure at the top of the hill, unruly ebony hair blowing behind her in the wind like a veil. A faint smirk pulled at the corners of her lips and he could see a whisper of delight flash across her face with her achievement. Their eyes locked for a moment and he saw not only the usual grey shade of a Dúnedain, but the fading hint of glowing amber, like the final embers of a burnt out fire finally succumbing to the night. But before he could make to follow her, she had disappeared.
Bilbo Baggins sat out on the front of his hobbit hole, enjoying a quiet moment smoking his finest pipe weed, indeed finding the morning very agreeable. It was exactly in this moment that Gandalf the Grey approached up the path to land right outside Bilbo's gate, giving him a most peculiar look.
"Good Morning!" Bilbo exclaimed, intending for this only to be a passing comment to whomever had disturbed his moment of satisfaction.
"What do you mean?" said Gandalf. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"
"Well…all of the above I suppose" said Bilbo, desperately trying to look anywhere but at the person who had interrupted his morning peace. Averting his gaze to the clear blue sky, he hastily sucked on his pipe and made to leave, turning at the last moment.
"I'm sorry,... Who are you?"
"You mean to say you don't remember me? Well, you might perhaps remember my name but not that it belongs to me. I am Gandalf! And Gandalf is…me!"
"Gandalf… Gandalf…" Bilbo tapped his head several times in an attempt to make it remember who this elderly wizard was, speaking in riddles. "Oh, Gandalf! I remember you, and your wonderful fireworks!"
Gandalf looked expectantly at Bilbo, making him ill at ease. He shifted uneasily on the spot and tentatively turned around, making his way back to his hobbit hole. Every few seconds he would turn behind to check whether the wizard had left, and each time he was left disappointed to find him staring intently in his direction. Finally the wizard spoke, ending the uncomfortable silence that had fallen upon the two.
"Well, at least you remember something about me." Looking partially disgruntled and equally disappointed in what he had found before him, he exclaimed "I have decided. This will be very good for you Bilbo. I am looking for someone to join me on an adventure".
Bilbo looked at Gandalf with horror. "An adventure? Well you won't find someone in these parts, that's for sure! We are plain, quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner!"
Gandalf shook his head in despair with the creature he had presumed to have more bottle inside than this. Why, Bilbo may indeed be a Baggins but he was the son of Belladonna Took, and he had found that Tookish curiosity always triumphed, especially in the instances where an adventure was on the cards. The dwarves of Erebor were certainly not easy company, nor were they tolerant of those who would prove to be burden. Yet Gandalf sensed that there was a lot more to Bilbo than even Bilbo knew himself, and he was certain that he would prove his worth before the end.
He looked at the hobbit with determination, and Bilbo felt more unease than ever with this new intensity. "We shall see about that." And with that Gandalf left the way he came, down the path alongside the hobbit holes and back onto his wagon, but not before scratching a peculiar ancient symbol in the centre of Bilbo's door as Bilbo hid away from view inside. Gandalf chuckled under his breath to himself, and thought of the evening ahead. Before the evening is over, the patience of Bilbo will be tested beyond any previous comparison, and he will never be the same again.
The sun had just set on the outskirts of the Shire, and Runa watched distrustfully as no less than twelve dwarves wandered through the paths of Hobbiton, following a sequence of ancient dwarvish symbols till last they found their destination. What business did twelve dwarves have in the Shire on this late eve she wondered? She sought to intercept them and demand they return to where they had journeyed from, but there was a jovial spirit about each one that held her place in her hiding spot. These dwarves did not have the fervency and ill omen that she had come to expect when crossing paths with a company of travelling dwarves in the Wild. If these dwarves, in high spirits as they were, had a single destination, and directed to it by ancient dwarvish symbols no less, then perhaps there was more to this than meets the eye. Indeed, the Shire folk's childlike spirit and gentility had sparked something fiercely protective within her heart and the threat of dwarvish greed and harsh judgement caused her worry. Dwarves were not known for their tolerance and blitheness, and although these dwarves may yet prove harmless, their presence was still unwelcome on this peaceful eve in the Shire.
As she contemplated the mystery, she spotted another figure following the same path that the dwarves had just taken. Recognising the figure at once she hastily and with great stealth shifted her way through the foliage and behind walls and doors until she dropped directly in front of the hunched character.
"Gandalf", she almost purred. Her voice had a deep tune to it that had become almost second nature to perform.
Taken quite by surprise, Gandalf stepped back, taking a full look at whoever had intercepted him so skilfully.
"Runa! What are you doing in these parts? And why are you here, outside Bilbo Baggin's hobbit hole, of all places, on all nights?"
"You know I have taken watch over the Shire of late. It is my duty to protect the lands of Eriador. Now my question to you is, what is a company of dwarves doing in the Shire? What is their business? Do they mean harm to the Shire folk?"
"Quite the opposite in fact. Indeed, there is a meeting that will take place tonight that may decide the fate of many."
Runa looked suspiciously at Gandalf. Who was this company? What could they need from within the Shire? The intensity of Gandalf's words played uneasily on her mind, although all of Gandalf's words held a level of intensity she seemed to find. It did indeed seem that more was at play here; twelves dwarves journeying to a hobbit hole to meet a wandering wizard, in truth, seemed entirely out of the ordinary.
"As my duty is protect the Shire and those folk that dwell under the hill I seek more information Gandalf. It is a most unusual place for a meeting of dwarves, following what I now understand to be your directions. I will not allow you to bring ill fate to these people."
Gandalf seemed amused, since last he saw of Runa she had not changed. Her ferocity remained intact alongside her desire to protect. Except there was a new element in her that he did not recognise, some air of provocation that had grown within her, no doubt from her isolation. He knew of what she had done and what had become of her Gift in her long years as a Ranger, and although he did not approve he was neither her parent nor her guardian and she had grown into a truly ruthless warden of the North.
"I have come to expect nothing less Runa. But perhaps you were meant to be here, of all places, on all nights. Whether your presence at this meeting would be of use to not only the company but to the fate of Middle Earth is a question that now enters my mind. Your…Gift. It may be needed before the end of this quest."
Runa stepped back and her eyes hardened in both suspicion and anger. "My Gift? What is mine is mine and I will not allow it to be harnessed by anyone, let alone a company of dwarves. I will not be used as a weapon, nor as a novelty. You know this."
"Runa. Your stubbornness equals that of a dwarf! Cast aside the Ranger. Join this quest and rid yourself of your isolation. It has coloured your intuition. I have heard of what becomes of those who try and cross you in the Wild. This is not you. Where is the young girl who was wary of her Gift I met all those years ago? You may be a Dúnedain but you've already walked this earth for over 70 years. You do not have all the time in the world – use this opportunity to better yourself. You may even come to care for these dwarves the way you care for the simple creatures of the world."
Runa scowled at the wizard before her. But as quickly and as effortlessly the scowl had come, it was replaced by a playful smirk. "As you wish Gandalf. I will meet these dwarves. But I will not swear any oath nor will I be forced to use my Gift. We will not speak of it unless I decide to, and if any hobbit is taken from the safety of the Shire it will be on their own choosing. I will always protect the innocent."
Gandalf's eyes softened. He could still see the young spirit inside Runa that had once been her most heartening feature. Long shifts spent wandering the North keeping watch of Eriador had hardened her more than he had expected, and he wondered how many times she had called upon her Gift for ill use. Nonetheless he was pleased to hear that she was to meet the company, and if it was decided that she would join this quest then the safety of Bilbo would be one less trouble on his mind.
He knocked three times on Bilbo's door, and was greeted by a cacophony of noise and movement. The dwarves were throwing Bilbo's china amongst themselves with upmost precision, yet still to the dismay of their host. He looked into the desperate eyes of Bilbo and had to stifle a laugh at the pleading stare he was receiving. Kili, the younger of two brothers present at the meeting grinned at his brother and began singing roguishly. Soon the company were all dancing, plates and dishes flying through the air and the sound of dwarvish rhyme bounced off the walls:
Blunt the knives, bend the forks
Smash the bottles and burn the corks
Chip the glasses and crack the plates
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
Cut the cloth, tread on the fat
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat
Pour the milk on the pantry floor
Splash the wine on every door!
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl
Pound them up with a thumping pole
When you're finished if they are whole
Send them down the hall to roll
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!
As the company's song came to an end, it was the deep laugh of the wizard that drew to the attention of Gandalf and Runa. The dwarves eyed her with both wonder and suspicion, as she was undoubtedly beautiful, but from the first look at her they could sense her threat. The two young brothers, Fili and Kili, stared at her with playful interest, and they were clearly attracted to her exotic demeanour. Her ebony hair was pulled away from her face in intricate braids, but left cascading down the length of her back. The dark green tunic and leggings she wore left much to the imagination but the lowered neckline hinted at the curves of a woman. If it wasn't for the array of weapons adorning her sides and back it might have seemed that this was an outfit of a woman playing at being a warrior, as the overall image was dripping with suggestion. It was Kili who spoke first, ending the long silence that had fallen in the room.
"Gandalf I beliebe have you have missed the merriments! And who is your friend? She is truly welcome in our company". He flashed an animated smile at Runa and his brother shook his head in disbelief.
"My name is Runa, little dwarf. You may want to hold your judgement till later, I am not how I seem. You, on the other hand, I can read like a book. Younger of two brothers, natural seducer of women amongst your people yet desperate to prove his worth on this quest to wherever you journey. You will not yet seduce me, but I shall let you try."
Kili's eyes looked as if they might burst out of his head whilst his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. Gandalf exhaled deeply and gave Runa a look of infuriation.
"Yes. This is Runa. She is a descendant of the Dúnedain and a Ranger of the North. She has tasked herself with watching over the Shire of late and as so tracked your company to the door of Bilbo. She is exceptional at protection, but can be ill-behaved at times. I apologise Kili, do not be provoked by her words. She has come to meet with you all."
With this introduction Runa bowed deeply, imitating the gesture she had witnessed many dwarves perform over the years. She playfully smirked at the Company in their disbelief in the turn of events. But before anyone could speak to ease the situation, another three sharp knocks sounded on the door.
Gandalf turned from the door to the Company, flashing a hesitant glance at Runa as he did so.
"He is here."