Chapter Text
It was a well-known truth that Hobbits, especially those of the most respectable families, did not leave the Shire. And why would they ever wish to? Everything they needed was within the safe and comfortable boundaries. Life in the Shire was peaceful and full of joy; as the only needs of a Hobbit are good food, good company, and good ale. Any outsiders who ventured into the Shire, whether passing through or for trade, were looked at with little welcome and quite a bit of suspicion.
So, on the rare occasion that a Hobbit expressed their wishes to venture beyond the safety of the Shire or, Lady Yavanna forbid, actually do so, they would be considered to be more than a little mad and not at all a respectable sort. And all the habitants of the Shire knew that there was no Hobbit madder and completely unrespectable than Belladonna Took.
That is, until her daughter, Bluebell Baggins left the Shire – with little more than a quickly scrawled note leaving Bag End to her cousin Drogo – in the company of Dwarves.
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“At birth, one’s seed-mark is dormant and unsprouted. It is not until the meeting between a hobbit and their á chroí that the seed will first sprout, which has been described by many as a soft burning sensation. As a hobbit gets to know their chroí, the sprout begins to grow, though it won’t reach full bloom until the hobbit is fully in love with the other.
There have been cases where one in the pair had reached full bloom years before the other, but no reported cases of unmatched pairings.
Hobbits typically meet their chroí when they come of age, as though being led to one another. It is uncommon that a hobbit reaches their 45th year without meeting their pairing, with 46 years being the oldest age recorded.”
‘Well,’ thought Bell dully ‘Looks like I’ve set a new record for being the loneliest hobbit in the history of the Shire.’
The book she was reading on seed-marks and Á Chroí seemed to confirm what everyone in the Shire had been whispering about behind her back for years now. Bell would never find her á chroí.
Bluebell Baggins, or Bell as she preferred to be called, had just passed her 50th birthday and yet her seed remained unsprouted. She must have met every hobbit in the Shire by now, with the way her aunts and uncles insisted on parading her around in hopes of getting her married.
As a young lass, Bell had been full of dreams and hopes for her future. She was going to adventured out of the Shire, travel even farther than her mother had! But when she had finally reached her maturity, instead of gallivanting off into the unknown, she found herself surrounded by her cousins, aunts, and uncles, all demanding to know why she hadn’t found her chroí yet. So, Bell had decided to put off the adventuring until she found her chroí, wanting to have someone to travel with. But as the years went by her mark remained unsprouted. And although her heart longed for the views outside of the Shire, what was the point of seeing the world if she had no one to share it with?
Even just sitting outside on her bench to smoke would put her in a bad mood, as she saw young couples everywhere taking walks and having picnics. And it didn’t help that every time she went to the market, knowing eyes and cruel giggles followed her. So, Bell often found herself at the base of a tree within the nearby woods with a book in her lap.
Today, found Bell on her garden swing and had picked up this particular book in an effort to provide herself with some comfort, after all maybe there were cases of other hobbits like her! But, as she had known before she had even opened the cover, there wasn’t any.
She was alone and unwanted, and would be for the rest of her li–
“Good Morning!” A deep voice proclaimed loudly not too far away from Bell.
She looked up from the wretched book to see a very tall man with a long gray beard and strange hat standing in front of her gate.
“Oh um yes,” She replied, a little bewildered by the stranger’s appearance. “Good morning to you as well.”
“Do you mean to simply wish me a good morning or to tell me that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not?”
Bell had the distinct impression that he was laughing at her, but she did her best to remain polite.
“All of them at once, I suppose.” And, yes, there it was, a twitch of his lips and a twinkle in his eyes confirmed her suspicions. Bell felt her eye twitch as she fought to keep her face pleasant despite his rudeness of teasing a stranger in her own garden! “Can I help you?” She asked.
‘Please say no and leave. The whole Shire thinks me odd enough, the last thing I need is to get the attention of this funny looking Man.’ She pleaded her in head, ‘Please say no and leave. Please say–‘
The stranger chuckled and his expression changed from teasing to a soft, warm smile.
“I came looking for the daughter of a dear old friend of mine, although she doesn’t seem to remember me.”
Bell’s eyebrows furrowed. He was obviously insinuating that she was the daughter of his dear old friend and that he had met Bella before as well. Which would mean he had known one of her parents, her mother of course, Belladonna Baggins (her father, while not disapproving of Belladonna’s adventurous nature, was not as inclined nor had the same opportunities to make friends outside of hobbits). She took a closer look at the stranger, noting his grey robes and hat as well as the tall walking stick he was leaning on.
There was only one man she could think of who had been welcome in the Shire, who she hadn’t seen since she was a fauntling, but who her mother had always talked about in a fond, if exasperated, tone. But why on Arda was he looking for Bella?
“You’re Gandalf,” she said, now more excited and curious than annoyed. “Gandalf the Grey wizard! You told such wonderful tales when I was a faunt!”
He smiled at her again, obviously pleased she was able to recall his name.
“Indeed I am. And I have come to speak with you Bluebell Baggins, about a matter of great importance.”
Bell was smiling widely now, no longer worried about what gossip his presence would bring. With all the tales she had been told of the man, she just knew this would mean trouble. But usually the good kind. “Please, call me Bell. Now, what is this matter and why would you come to me with it?”
“I am in need,” Gandalf started greatly, the twinkle returning to his eyes. “Of someone to accompany me on an adventure.”
Bell’s breath caught and her eyes went wide. Quickly looking around to check if there was anyone listening, she opened and closed her mouth a few times before she was able to collect her thoughts.
“Gandalf, I’m not sure why you would think I could help you in this matter, but I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong hobbit, I’m a Baggins, you see, and no respectable hobbit would go on a…go on an adventure.” But even to Bell’s ears her voice sounded longing and the look Gandalf gave her told her that he thought so as well.
“The daughter of Belladonna Took, not wanting to go on an adventure! It’s all I heard you talk about as a faunt,” Gandalf said, in an incredulous voice. “Why, I can see grass stains on your skirt and a leaf in your hair right now! You don’t mean to tell me you got those from sitting in your garden!”
Bell blushed brightly and ran a hand through her curls, snagging on the leaf Gandalf had mentioned. She took the leaf out and scowled at it. She had thought she’d rid herself of all of them.
“I’m sorry to turn you away like this, but I just can’t go. All of Hobbiton already thinks me mad and if I left….Well, it would just make them all dislike me more.” Bell looked down, away from the man who had just offered her the chance she had dreamed of for most of her life.
“My dear, when have Tooks ever cared about what the Shire thought?”
Bell raised an eyebrow. “Well, seeing as I live at Bag End and my last name is Baggins, I rather think that I am not a Took.”
She couldn’t go. Not that she didn’t want to, Yavanna, Bell wanted to go more than almost anything. But knowing that she didn’t have an á chroí, would have to face life without that kind of love….well. She couldn’t risk what little companionship she did have in her life, which would be over as soon as she stepped outside of the Shire. Even if Bell didn’t particularly like some of her relative, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins namely, she would rather have them than be alone.
Gandalf cleared his throat, done with his muttering, and spoke with finality, “Well, that settles it then. You’ll be the last member of the company. Very well, I will see you later tonight for dinner and will bring the rest of our group alone to meet you. They’ll need to you sign a contract, of course.”
He then quickly turned and started walking away.
Bell stared after him a moment, before finding her voice,” Oh but Gandalf! Hold on a moment, I’ve told you I won’t be going!” But he continued walking away, tossing a quick “It’ll be good for you!” over his shoulder.
She blinked, not quite able to believe what just happened. And despite her protests and her worries, she couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face at the idea of actually going on an adventure, finally leaving the Shire! It didn’t last long, though, as she reminded herself that it wasn’t worth risking the little she had.
Bell didn’t mind hosting a group of adventurers for dinner, although she was a bit put out that she had no say in the matter, but she would not be accompanying them. Yes, she would simply inform Gandalf later that while she was flattered he wanted her to come along, he most definitely had the wrong hobbit.
At a later date, Bell would look back on this moment and shake her head. She couldn’t believe that she had actually thought Gandalf would take ‘no’ for an answer.
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“ – that’s what Bluebell Baggins hates!”
Bell closed her eyes and forced herself to take deep breaths. It would not do for a respectable Hobbit, like herself, to lose her temper at her guests. Even if said guests had invited themselves and threw her mother’s nice plates around in a way that made her heart race.
A hand landed softly on her shoulder and she turned to face the one responsible for all of this chaos.
“My dear, don’t tell me you’ve started to care more about porcelain plates and sharp knives than feeling joy and hearing laughter?” Asked Gandalf, the look on his face teasing but with something slightly pitying. “Why, you used to act much the way these Dwarrow are now! But now you seem to be doing your best impression of Grandmother Baggins.”
Bell huffed. How dare he compare her to that old bat! She sucked the fun out of everything and cared more about the family’s reputation that her actual granddaughter. Not to mention the way she had heavily disapproved of Bungo’s choice in marrying Belladonna. Bell could still remember the way her grandmother would sniff and ask her son if he ‘really had to marry a Took, for Yavanna’s sake’.
‘I am nothing like Grandmother Baggins!’ Bell thought indignantly, turning to face her dining room of dwarrow once more. ‘Honestly this is completely different, I just – oh.‘ As she looked at her guests she saw bright smiles, the kind she hadn’t worn in a very long time. Not since her parents had died. Bag End was loud with chatter and teasing and laughter and oh how Bell had missed this. Home’s were supposed to be loud and filled with joy! Bag End had just been Bell for so long now that she had forgotten.
‘This is the difference between a smial and a home.’ She thought, longing for her childhood and her mother’s smile. Bell’s eyes started to water and she blinked rapidly, it would not do to start crying now.
“I had forgotten, how loud and unapologetically my mother used to laugh. And how often she accidently broke dishes because of how clumsy she was.” Bell’s voice was quiet, as if speaking too loudly would break the spell that had been placed over Bag End when she hadn’t been looking, but there was a smile on her face now, small but real. “Oh and Gandalf, she would have been so unbelievably excited to have this many guests over for dinner, especially if they were Dwarrow!”
She was broken from her reminiscing by a loud knock at the door. Gandalf cleared his throat and Bell turned toward him once more.
“You’d better go answer the door, Bluebell. The leader of our company has finally arrived.”
“Just Bell, Gandalf.” She ducked out of the dinning room and headed toward her door. Honestly, the nerve of that man to say ‘our company’, as if Bell had agreed to go at all!
Bell opened the door, ready to great her guest as she had with all the others, but as her eyes landed on the so announced ‘leader’ of the company, her words wouldn’t come out. She could do nothing but stare at intense blue eyes and long, dark hair.
The mark on her back began to burn.
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Bell stared, frozen at the dwarf at her door. And he was looking back at seemingly just as at a loss for words and looking very surprised for some reason.
Gandalf appeared next to her, loudly greeting the new arrival. “Welcome Thorin! Bluebell, this is the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield!”
“Just, just Bell, Gandalf.” Bell replied, without her usual exasperation, still staring at Thorin, who, judging by the burning of her mark, was her chroí. Her mind was reeling. After all these years of being alone, she finally found him! Bell wasn’t the broken Hobbit she had thought she was, of course she hadn’t met her á chroí before, he was a dwarf!
Thorin broke the eye contact first as his expression became unreadable. He glanced toward Gandalf before stepping through the door.
So, this is the Hobbit then?” Oh, Yavanna, his voice. It was deep and smooth, Bell was quiet sure she could listen to him talk all da–
“ –looks more like a nursemaid than a burglar.” And never mind, seems he’s much nicer when he’s not speaking. Bell was quite sure that, personally, she would much rather look like a nursemaid and wasn’t sure why anyone would want to look like a burglar. But she knew that the Dwarf intended it as an insult and that was unacceptable.
Bell narrowed her eyes, her words suddenly much easier to find. “I welcome you and yours into my home, I provide food and drink, and you insult me at my door! Well, Master Dwarf, you might as well turn back around and leave if you think I’ll hold with such abhorred rudeness!”
Thorin blinked, obviously not expecting Bell to speak to him so. He recovered quickly countering her with pointed, mocking questions all while circling her, as though he was a predator and she his prey.
“What’s your choice of weapon? Sword? Bow?”
“Well, right now I’m wishing I had a broom.” He ignored her.
“Have you much experience as a burglar?”
“Oh yes, I was the only faunt who was able to steal Farmer Maggot’s mushrooms without being caught.” replied Bell drily.
Thorin remained stone faced, but Bell could see amusement in his eyes. He opened his mouth, no doubt to ask another question, but Bell continued, “If you’re quite done interrogating me, in my own home I might add, there is little food still left on the dining table and if you would like some I’d suggest you hurry up before the rest of your company gets there first.”
Thorin inclined his head in acknowledgment and after a long searching look at her, turned and headed into the dining room. Cheering quickly followed, as his companions noticed he’d arrived.
Bell shut the door and leaned her forehead against it. She had finally met her other half, and he was a rude (but unfairly attractive) dwarf with a stern face and teasing eyes. Oh Valor, his eyes. Bell had never seen eyes so blue, so piercing. It felt like he was staring at her soul when he looked at her.
“Are you alright Bluebell?” questioned Gandalf. She turned toward him.
His face seemed concerned, but Bell thought his eyes were too knowing.
“Yes, I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I just need a moment to myself is all,” Bell said, in what she hoped was a calm voice. “Please, go join the others. I will be in shortly.”
He nodded to her and returned to the dining room.
The second she was sure he was gone, Bell practically ran into her room. She tried to undo her shirt quickly, though her hands were shaking. When it was finally unbuttoned, Bell took it off and went to stand in front of the mirror, but found herself too nervous to turn around to see her mark.
What if she was mistaken? What if it didn’t actually sprout? What if she had tricked herself into believing it had because she was so desperate?
Bell closed her eyes, turned around, and took a shaky breath. Then she opened her eyes and there it was. On her lower back, her seed mark had sprouted, a small green leaf poking out of the dark brown seed.
She stared at it, the reality of it sinking in, and the relief that flooded her system brought tears to her eyes.
She wasn’t broken or uncapable of love. Her á chroí was sitting in her dining room!
With tears streaming, small giggles began to fall from her mouth. Finally! Finally, she could be happy!
And then, when she had allowed herself to be happy, Bell had a terrible thought. If Hobbits got their seed marks from the Great Mother, does that mean Dwarrow didn’t have them? Her giggles stopped, but the tears showed no sign of stopping.
If Thorin didn’t have a seed mark…..
What’s worse then not having an á chroí? Having one and knowing that you are not theirs.
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When Bell rejoined the others in the dinning room, she stood quietly in the doorway, listening to the Dwarrow chatter away. Thorin, her á chroí, was eating what must have been the last remaining bit of stew
When he finally looked up from his food, the room went silent. He swallowed the last of his diner and spoke, frustration clear in his voice, “They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone.”
The room exploded with noise as each dwarf has his own opinion to share. Bell tried to gain some understanding of the situation, but could only pick up bits and pieces, causing her more confusion than clarity. But she was curious now, well, Hobbits are known for being nosy.
“You’re going on a quest?” Everyone turned to look at her, Thorin sharing a look with a white haired dwarf, Balin he was called, if she remembered correctly.
“Bluebell, my dear, come closer and share your light over here,” said Gandalf as he reached into his robe and pulled out a worn map.
As Gandalf told to her the tragedy of the Lonely Mountain, how the Dwarrow of Erebor had been struggling all these years, without aid and treated with scorn. Bell could see the sorrow on her guests’ faces, the Dwarrow who had filled Bag End with so much cheer and laughter not half an hour ago. She felt something break inside of her heart.
“And the others won’t help? How could they turn away?” Bell was surprised at the rush of anger she felt on behalf of these Dwarrow, and hearing the anger in her voice, they also looked surprised.
“That’s why we’ll be needing a burglar,” said Oin, a tired expression on face.
Bell nodded, “And a very good one at that, I imagine. An expert.”
“Did you hear that lads? She says she’s an expert!” Cheers filled the room, even as Bell tried to correct them.
“Oh no, you see I’m not a burglar at all!”
Thorin, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of her, spoke once more, an eyebrow raised as he glanced at Gandalf. “That’s interesting, as a certain Wizard had informed us that this was the home of the very best burglar he knew.” Thorin did not sound pleased.
“I’m not a burglar! Gandalf, what exactly have you told them?” Bell’s eyes flashed as she rounded on the Wizard.
“My dear Bluebell, I –“
Whatever excuse Gandalf was going to present to the irate Hobbit was cut off by Balin.
“I’m afraid I have to agree with the lass here, Gandalf. She’s not exactly burglar material.”
“Yes, exactly! I’m a Baggins! Baggins’ don’t –“ Bell started.
Dwalin broke in, “Aye, these soft folk aren’t meant for the wilds. She’d be dead the first day!”
“Well, hold on just a second – “ But Bell was interrupted once again as the Dwarrow began to argue amongst themselves, only their King stayed silent, his intense stare fixed on Bell once more.
The room grew dark as Gandalf drew up to his full height, his expression fierce as his voice booming, “If I say Bluebell Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is!”
He sat once again, lighting his pipe, and glaring around as if daring anyone to challenge him.
Thorin spoke then, his eyes still on the Hobbit “Very well. Balin, give her the contract.”
Balin opened his mouth, no doubt to interject, but thought better of it. He pulled a long scroll from his robes and passed it across the table to Bell.
She opened it and began to read through it carefully, remaining silent taking in the words. When she had finished, Bell had a blank expression on her face and once more turned to the Wizard.
“Gandalf, I need to speak with you in my study. Alone. Now.”
And she walked to the study without another word.
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When Gandalf had closed her study door Bell dropped her blank expression and narrowed her eyes at the Wizard. He smiled down at her sheepishly.
“Gandalf, please inform me exactly what you were thinking when you told these Dwarrow that I was some great burglar?” Bell couldn’t believe the nerve of this Man! First he showed up unannounced at her gate, judged her decision to remain in the Shire, invited thirteen Dwarrow into her home, and on top of all that he had told them lies about her? She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this angry. “I haven’t see you in years! And you turn up here and pretend to ask me for my help, even though we both know you don’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Do I want to go out of the Shire? Alright, yes, you caught me. But if I do, I will lose everything. I will be the “Mad Baggins” for the rest of my lonely life, and that’s IF I make it back alive. Which from everything you’ve just explained, is a very big ‘if’.
Gandalf remained silent, but his eyes were far too knowing. Bell sat down in her arm chair and this time her voice was not angry, but scared. “It is not just the Dragon that I fear. Gandalf, if I leave the Shire, on my own with a group of male Dwarrow and no chaperone….well, I won’t be able to come back.”
The Wizard came to kneel before her and looked her in the eyes with a gentle expression. “My dear, Bluebell, would you want to come back?”
Tears began to spill down her cheeks for the second time that day and when she spoke her voice was just a whisper, “No, I… I don’t think so. But Gandalf, they were right, it’s a very big world and I am just a Hobbit.”
Gandalf hugged the Hobbit then, providing warmth to her that she had missed for so long.
“No Bluebell, you are not ‘just’ anything. You are Belladonna’s daughter, a descendent of the Old Took! And you are the key to this quest. Without you, I fear they will never reclaim the mountain.”
And with these words Bluebell Baggins did something no respectable Hobbit would, she believed him.
“Just Bell, Gandalf. Call me Bell.”
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The look of shock on the Dwarf King’s face when Bell handed over the signed contract caused a twinge of satisfaction to course through the Hobbit. Although, to be completely, honest, she was just as surprised herself.
And yet, as Bell showed the Dwarrow where they could kip and handed out pillows and blankets, she felt no regret. She was scared, she would be a fool if she wasn’t, but there was a sort of light feeling in her heart that hadn’t been there for a very long time. And as Bell sorted out her papers to leave everything to her cousin, Drogo, she felt a small smile on her face.
Once, she had everything sorted, Bell headed toward the living room to ensure no one needed anything when something stopped her in her tracks. A voice, deep and full of emotion, rang out clearly throughout her smial. And as Bell listened, her mark burned once more.
“Far o’er the Misty Mountains cold
To dungeons deep and caverns old….”