Chapter Text
Belladonna had been the moon.
When he had been younger, much younger than he was now, his mother had been the moon. This astral presence that light’s up the night with her comforting white glow and made everything looked so different than they had been in the sun. She had been this wide presence in a much larger sky that no one could look away from because her very presence was hypnotizing making it impossible to ignore her. Where the sun was just a ball of fire in the sky, the moon was a silent guardian; her light making children fell safer, feel like they had their own personal guardian chasing the shadows of the nightmares that would creepy on them at night.
Belladonna had been the moon and Bungo the sun.
She had been his silent guardian; the one person he always knew would protect him and that he thought he would always have in his life. He still had the moon, but Belladonna was gone. His smiling sweet mother that had often joked that as she was the moon and that his father had been her sun. Bright and happy, always illuminating the life of all the people lucky enough to know him. The two astral forces in his life had been the sun and the moon, his father and his mother… and now they were both gone.
Looking to the sky, at the moon looming over his head, Bilbo sighed sadly. There truly was no getting use to the silence. For his whole life, as far as he could remember he had lived in a house filled with music and laughter. His father writing his books and taking care of his garden. His mother cooking in the kitchen and painting in the garden with his father. His father had loved walking in the fields of the neighbouring farmer and his mother had loved strolling in the woods at night under the light of the moon. He remember all the little details that had filled his life and that to anyone one else would sound irrelevant, but to him the fact that his mother steps were heavier then his father in the morning, that his father had a beautiful singing voice where his mother was more of an hummer, that she was a wonderful cook but that his father was the better baker, were the most precious of memories.
With each steps he took on the path toward the woods, one more little memory came back, slowing his strides, Bilbo took in all of them, reviving them and letting them wash over him in sad nostalgia. In the middle of all those memories, he looked up to see the figure of a mother cradling her little one in the window of another house and paused. The figure was swaying softly, the baby cradled safely in her arms probably to some song she was singing to her infant. The mother moved closer to the window and her face became clearer, smiling Bilbo waved to her announcing his spying.
She waved back and opened the window so they could look at each other without the glass between them. No obstruction to hide behind if there was anything to hide. They had long since decide not to hide from each other and this was only part of there usual ritual. Bilbo would walk into the woods at night, stopped at the house and if he saw her he would wait so she would know where he was.
Lobelia smiled back to him and nodded, she knew where he would be and might worry, but at least she would know where he was. She had been the only one to reach him after the death of his parents. The only one to not be afraid to yell at him, to force him to eat, to get out of bed in the morning and to force him to live. They were to oddball of the shire and had since embrace that fact.
Where Bilbo was the odd bachelor that still refuse to get married even though he had been raised with a loving family and had a home ready to welcome a family, he still choose his loneliness. He had no interest for a family, not the kind that would be accepted in the Shire at the very least. Lobelia on the other hand had chosen to have a family; only it was a family of two that had most of the population in the Shire frowning in reproach. She had had an affair, something that was already greatly frowned at and when she had become pregnant she had chosen to stay single and raised the baby alone. Many had proposed and all had been turned down. Even when the whole Shire had thought that simply because she had given her attention to Bilbo when he had been lost in darkness she had finally seen reason, Lobelia and Bilbo ignored them all and forged a friendship instead. Two oddballs standing by each other’s side giving support to one another so they could survive the rumours and brave the judging glares. So every night Bilbo took a walk through the woods, he stopped by her house and made sure she knew where he was going and that he would come back so she wouldn’t have to stand-alone.
Lobelia nodded and closed the window going back to swaging her baby. One more step, one more memory as he kept on walking, the past taking hold of him as he left the present behind him. As he reached the woods he found the way he had walked many times with his mother on those full moon nights where she would take him on his walks and show him the woods at night. The flowers that only opened for the moon, the animals that could only been seen at night and the insects that tried to copy the stars with their lights. All of which he still looked for as he turned his back on the lights still visible through the windows of the houses filling the Shire and entered the woods.
The old tree as old as middle earth loomed over the small hobbit as he walked into their shadows, his feet following the well-known path. He passed the patch of little purple flowers that only ever opened from the moon’s light that his mother had once weaved into his hair. He looked on as a mother skunk came out of her hole in the ground followed by her two babies for their night stroll. Looking up Bilbo could see the moon peeking at him between the branches of the trees and smiled at his silent guardian. It might have been because of his mother’s presence on all those nightly strolls but now walking without her he felt like the moon had replaced her and that as long as he saw the astral globe he was safe. He kept on walking letting the sound of the woods at night wash over him bringing back memory of a song hummed to him long ago.
It wasn’t until dark clouds covered the astral globe that Bilbo heard it for the first time. It was a small noise really, nothing but a little cry in the night, but it was there nonetheless. Focusing on the sound Bilbo turned his attention to it and heard much more. He could hear fighting, he could hear dark laughter and once again that soft cry that had been the first sound to get his attention. Bilbo knew he should turn back, those were not noise he was used to, not noise any well behave hobbit would have investigated. It was so sad that he wasn’t a well behave hobbit.
Looking up the only thing that made him pause was the fact that dark clouds hid the moon, his guardian was absent. Hearing the cry he looked towards the sound and realized he would have to leave the path he was used to following to its source. His mother had always told him to stay on the path, the path was safe. The cry resounded in the night once again and his feet left the path without hesitation. Walking over roots, letting the leaf caress his feet so they wouldn’t crush under his steps and alert whoever was fighting and paying attention to the wild life that was running away from the noise, Bilbo moved on. The sound became louder and louder and his stepped faltered as the sound of fighting, sword hitting sword stopped with a cry of pain. For a moment there was only silence, heavy and filled with the knowledge that a being had lost his life.
Curiosity, curiosity had Bilbo moving again hugging the shadow closer not wanting to be seen and crouching low as he moved forward. The cloud over his head continued on their path through the sky and the moon came back over his head giving him more courage. Soon he saw life, not too far from him and crouched even lower. He knew those life forms from the books in his fathers study, he had read about them and they had filled his nightmares when he had learned that the creature were real.
Orcs.
Hiding in the shadow of the nearest tree Bilbo took in the scene before his eyes. In a little clearing stood three orcs, two of their comrade laid dead on the ground one of them without his head. Close by three horses were stomping the ground one of them bleeding from the wound as they moved in panic away from the creatures trying to grab them to stop them from escaping. The horse riders were on the ground, two of which were clearly fighters; probably a knight judging from their golden armour, but what caught his attention was the head of the fallen soldier who had lost his helmet, more importantly his ears. The tip of the fallen being ears were pointy, more elegant and fragile looking than a hobbit’s pointy ears, but still very easily identifiable. The fallen knights were elves, another species from middle earth that Bilbo had only ever read about in his father’s books. They were suppose to be elegant creature, immortals that filled their life with the knowledge it would take many life times for a hobbit to collect and so graceful only the act of walking looked like dancing. To busy with the horses the orcs didn’t seemed to be able to hear the cries but Bilbo had no idea how long it would be before the creature turned their attention toward the sound and the hobbit hiding spot.
He heard the cry, the cry that had caught his attention in the first place and looked away from the blood and carnage to see the third elf lying with her back to a tree not far from Bilbo. She wasn’t only an elf, she was a lady, and her face seemed to attract the ray of the moon not allowing any shadow to obscure it. Her long blond hair, so light they almost looked white, fell over her shoulder and to the ground looking like a river of pearls. She was one of the most beautiful being Bilbo had ever seen, even with the dark stains of blood obscuring her beautifully woven dress and life slowly leaving her. Bilbo was so caught up in his observation of the lady that it took him a moment to realise that two clear blue eyes had found his hiding spot and where studying him just as he was studying their owner. Their eyes meet, her clear blues filled with silent tears as her pink lips opened on silent words that never breach the barrier of her teeth. With a defeated sigh her eyes drifted to the bumble of cloth at her side and back to him pleading.
Bilbo looked to the bumble and back at her in a silent question, but she shook her head pleading and begging for him to take it. Shooting a quick look in the orcs direction he saw that they were still busy with the horses still not paying attention to the still alive lady elf close by, but it was only a matter of time before they did pay attention and if they did they would also notice him. Looking at the tears filled blue eyes Bilbo made his decision and stepping quickly into the light of the moon, he grabbed the bumble and stepped back into the shadows clutching it to his chest his heart pounding in fear that he had been sighted. Chancing a peek at the orcs he saw them talking to each other laughing over the corpse of the fallen elf knights and sighed in relief. When he looked back at the lady, her eyes were closed and a small grateful smile was the last expression that would ever grace her face.
A tear rolled on the hobbit’s cheek at the loss of such a beautiful being and he turned away. He couldn’t save any of them; he couldn’t be their hero as there was nothing left to save, but he also couldn’t stay there and take the risk of being discover. If he was discovered the chance of placing all those hobbit families back in the Shire at the mercy of those orcs was not something he could ever live with. So he walked deeper and deeper into the woods until his feet found the familiar patht they had followed all their life back to the Shire. The bumble was clutched against his rapidly beating heart, his breath coming in short bursts as he felt fear finally settle into his heart.
He didn’t see anything around him, didn’t saw Lobelia’s house still filled with light as he rushed past it, didn’t see any of his neighbors house as he ran past them and didn’t even feel the wood of his door as he pushed it opened. Catching his breath, trying to calm his breath, Bilbo’s back hit the door as it closed behind him and he crumpled to the floor his legs barely able to hold him up. His heart was wild, feeling like it was trying to escape from his chest as he heard the small cry that had started this whole adventure coming from the bumble in his arms.
Ever so slowly Bilbo pulled the soft cloth that made the bumble aside laying it on his legs as he unwrapped it. The cry resonated in his ears once again as a small face appeared before his eyes. A small face with small pointy ear, soft so white blond hair covering the small head and huge liquid blue eyes now filled with life that were staring back at him.