Foresight
of a Sting
Author: wanderingsmith
may 2014
Summary: ‘Listen to me, Thorin Oakenshield!’ I said. ‘If this
hobbit goes with you, you will succeed. If not, you will fail. A
foresight is on me, and I am warning you.’
Gandalf tells Bilbo's mom my shippy take on the details of that
foresight.
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I ain't got no money, and nobody'd be daft enough to
pay me for this. As it is thought, so let it be said; you make the
toys, I play with 'em.
AN: 
Bag End, TA 2934
"You must rest, my dear Bella. No good will come of worrying
yourself so."
"But Gandalf, my poor boy. He's almost 50, and so alone, Gandalf.
Already he's showing signs of turning into a... an isolated old man.
I shudder to think what he'll do when he's alone. He has so much
love to give, my sweet boy-"
"Bella," Gandalf laid a hand on the fever-damp fringe of white hair,
trying to send the spirited hobbit some peaceful energy, "I promise
you your son will find someone to give all the love and devotion he
has carried so long."
The narrow look the now-frail hobbit sent him made it quite plain
that her mind had not been weakened as her body had; this was still
the lass who'd donned hardy trousers and a pack and gone walking the
wild to see the reality behind the books she'd read. "Even a wizard
cannot make such a promise, old friend."
Gandalf smiled, pleased to be able to give her this much, "Not as a
rule, no, but I had a foresight about your young Bilbo. One day, and
soon now, if he's near 50, he will find not only someone to cherish,
but an adventure, Bella! Such that if you were any other hobbit, I
would never have told of the foresight, for they'd only be
horrified. But I know that you, my most adventuresome hobbit-lass,
will feel only exhilaration at knowing your son will be risking his
life for love."
And indeed, a wide smile slowly displaced the grief-stricken frown
from the pale features, "Truly? My Bilbo?"
"Indeed. Quite the very figure of that young rascal who used to tag
along with every elf troop that travelled through the Shire. Do you
remember the very first time I met him? One of your wonderful
Midsummer's Eve parties, someone had given him a little wooden
sword-"
"Oh my! Yes," the elderly hobbit giggled, "My father; much to
Bungo's horror. But the boy was ever so excited, I couldn't take it
away from him," she smirked up at the wizard wickedly, "Well, not
until he started attacking Big Folk. Couldn't let my lad become a
bandit."
Remembering staring at the utterly adorable smile on that toddling
face even as he'd been taken by the vision of a protective snarl on
a full-grown hobbit, Gandalf chuckled, "Having seen the use he would
later put his swordsmanship skills to, I had no fear of his being a
bandit. Though he does continue to attack those larger than
himself."
"Well, it's rather difficult to find anyone to attack that is
*smaller* than a hobbit. Even dwarrows are mostly larger than most
hobbits."
Gandalf huffed, "Though the mate Bilbo is protecting is, actually, a
dwarf, his attackers are most definitely *not*."
"A dwarf? Do you.." an uncertain hunger flickered up at him, "Do you
know anything of her? I don't suppose I'll live to meet her..."
"Um. Well. ..Well I'm afraid I've yet to encounter them, so all I
have is what knowledge came with the vision, you understand."
Gandalf waited to see the nod of acknowledgement, giving himself a
moment to remember the details he'd seen and felt, "Humm. Well, the
first thing to say is that it is not a 'her'. Though, as I know you
are aware, dwarrowdams look much the same as male dwarrows, the
brief sight I had of his face struck me to be male... though even I
have been known to make a mistake at a single glance."
Bella chuckled softly, obviously careful not to trigger the terrible
coughs her ill chest was prone to, eyes sympathetic, "Most of us
still make the mistake at third and fourth glance, if glances are
all we get. Though I admit, since they both treated me equally, I
hardly cared and frequently did not bother trying to guess, when I
met Mahal's children." She sighed, "If I'd known, I would have told
him more of the things I learned..."
Gandalf raised a brow in surprise, "Why didn't you?"
Bella laughed fondly, "Because for all my boy loves stories, and
even some of the grand romances, he never was much for listening to
stories of real romances. He laughs dutifully at his friends' wooing
joys, and listened to mine and Bungo's story as attentively as a
child should, but... and, well, somehow a great many of the
traditions I ended up hearing..."
"Um. The boy you always described struck as quite intelligent enough
to learn for himself, I'm sure he'll do fine. In any case, by his
dress and armour, this one is of high rank-"
"Oh dear... I met a few of those.. they tended to be quite..
self-righteous," Gandalf snorted in agreement and saw Bella grin
wryly, "My Bilbo can be quite.. righteous, himself."
Gandalf took several long moments imagining the clash of such
personalities, and wondered if he would get to see the reality for
himself. It sounded quite entertaining. "He was unconscious in the
vision, and the foresight did not give me anything of his character.
Though carrying an elven blade and being defended by a hobbit speaks
well for him."
"He carried an elvish sword?"
"Indeed, an elegant one. Quite surprising style to find on a dwarf.
Though, as I said, the fineness of his armour..." Gandalf frowned,
suddenly remembering a brief view... yes. Yes that was most
definitely- Oh my. "Actually, Bella, if my sight and memory are not
failing me, the buckle on his belt carries the sigil of Durin-"
"A Durin??!!"
Busy frowning through his memories of who currently lived from
Durin's line and was of appropriate age, Gandalf replied
distractedly, "And why would you object to a Durin as a son in law?"
"I would not. But they are kings, Gandalf, and high lords, indeed.
Certainly high if he wears the sigil. Gandalf.." He focused on his
friend at the weak call of his name, meeting wide, shocked eyes,
"You can't mean my poor boy is going to fall for- Dwarrows may love
their One without restraint, but the chances of such a one paying
enough attention to someone without rank, let along one that isn't a
dwarf, to allow themselves to discover love.."
"Umm. I could have been wrong, Bella," it was not a lie, the sight
had been very brief, he *could* be wrong. He would not know for
certain until he hunted down those it could be and saw their faces.
"I could be wrong."
He sighed, sorry now that he'd brought this up; he'd hoped to bring
the poor lass peace, not the greater worry of her son falling for
one who was unlikely to be able, one way or another, of returning
the affection.
"Gandalf.. Are you certain Bilbo loves him?"
Wishing the foresight had not been so specific, Gandalf nonetheless
could not lie to even the straw-grasping eyes of a mother, "Yes. I
am certain he loves him, and certain he and his sword are standing
between the dwarf and orcs that would kill him, though I cannot
'see' the creatures." Though he was certain they both survived the
orcs, he could not say if the love was returned, and did not know
*why* a hobbit was the last line of defence between a dwarf and
orcs. There were times that Gandalf was quite annoyed with the
shortcomings of foresight.
"Well... What does he look like, at least, this dwarf-lord my boy is
going to finally give away his heart for?"
Gandalf blinked at the question. Hobbits. Turn your attention for
just a moment, and they changed direction as though they were trying
to outrun the Nazgűl! "Look like? Bella, what *are* you asking me??"
As though he couldn't guess from the ghost of a lusty glitter in the
so-knowing dark eyes.
"Now don't play 'old man' with me, wizard. We both know you can
recognize beauty when you wish to. You don't visit Rivendell so
often for the music."
Even knowing it was a wasted effort, Gandalf could not help giving
the hobbit a prudish glare in a doomed-to-fail attempt to end the
conversation.
He lasted less than two minutes before grinning at her, "Oh, very
well. He is tall for a dwarf. Dressed in what looks to be dark blue,
from the bits I saw through the darkness, brigantine for armour and
a fur coat; all fine quality, and as neat as a hobbit could wish,"
he was glad to see even more of the shadows recede with his teasing,
"Black hair, I think, though, again, it is night, and therefore
colours are deceiving. If he wears braids.. none are obvious as he
lays on his back. His beard is shockingly short for a dwarf,
though," Gandalf frowned, distracted.
"Penance..."
He looked up at the whisper, meeting sadly knowing eyes and unable
to deny the knowledge. Her son's heart was going to one who carried
a heavy burden, regardless of just how high his rank turned out to
be.
He cleared his throat, continuing out of respect for the toughness
of his audience rather than any enjoyment for either of them, now.
"Well built. A strong, if lean, dwarf; I imagine that sword looks
quite at home as he wields it. Fair features, strong nose; not young
but not aged."
"And Bilbo?"
"Dressed as a gentlehobbit should be, if rather road-worn and dusty.
A bit thinner than I'd expect from one in the middle-age his
features make him. And glaring most fiercely as he stands holding a
glowing elven blade-"
"Elvish? They both have elvish swords?"
"Umm," examining the vision, Gandalf was quite certain of his facts,
"Yes Bella, both carry Elven blades."
The sweet grin Bella gave him had an edge of tiredness creeping in.
and Gandalf sadly acknowledged this was likely the last time they
would speak, "I think I'll choose to see that as romantic."
He smiled gently, "As you wish. He stands.. somewhat less than like
a swordsman, but I would nonetheless be wary of him; I can almost
see the bond between him and the still shape behind him. He might
die in the doing, but he will defend his mate with everything in
him; even orcs will fall before that small blade."
"..Thank you, Gandalf. It isn't what most mothers would want.. but
I'm an old fool. I want my Bilbo to remember the joy that used to
shine from his eyes as he went chasing after elves as a boy. I don't
think living out a long life with nothing but the quiet of the Shire
is what that boy was meant to do. I do wish him a long life.. but
I.. I think I'd rather he had a short one of joy, than a long empty
one."
AN: and yes, I'm
*pretending* that the designs on that buckle of his are instead
shaped into the Durin Sigil
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