The Light that Wakes [Bagginshield]

After the Storm

Lady Dis was perfectly content that morning, and not in the least animated by a softness of her heart that she had not experienced in a very long time.

Her life in the Blue Mountains had been comfortable and peaceful, even happy. She had had everything that she had needed and she had been blessed with the company of her brother and her sons. However, her happiness had always lived in the shadow of what she had been forced to leave behind in Erebor and of everything that she had lost on the way, her grandfather, her father, her other brother and all the other lives of her kin spent in battle. The years of toil, hunger and death haunted her even in those past years when she had once again been living a good life.

On that particular morning, however, the cold fingers of that old shadow were no longer wrapped around her heart. It was as if a great storm had stopped raging in her head, and in its stead there was a great, good silence where she could finally breathe and allow herself to hear the sound of life rising with the spring sun all around her.

Indeed, she could hear a flurry of bird voices at the window to her side, and further in the distance she could make out the busy noise of roosters, geese, pigs, cows, and not in the least the muffled chatter of villagers starting their day.

Dis was no longer in her home in the Blue Mountains that morning. In fact, she stood above Bilbo's great wooden table in his parlour in Bag End, sipping a delicious cup of his finest tea. She had arrived with Dwalin the evening before. They were on their way back to Erebor, with Gloin staying behind for a few more days to prepare the journey for the other dwarves in the Blue Mountains who wanted to return to Erebor at that time.

There was a lovely disarray of papers, maps, books and various writing instruments on the table. There were a few more books piled in no particular order around the fireplace and underneath and around the armchair nearby. Dis had never found disorder to be her favourite way of arranging a parlour, but here, in Bilbo's home, it jarred her much less than it would have in her own home. In fact, she found it strangely agreeable, and she could very well surmise from this situation that Bilbo had left in a hurry when he had. Taking another sip of tea, she turned around to look at the family portraits that hung on the wall above the fireplace, and at the various heirlooms displayed around the room. She liked the place a lot more than she had expected, not that she had ever contemplated in much detail whether or not she would enjoy a Hobbit house. This was not any Hobbit house however. It was the home of the one Hobbit who had bravely helped her brother regain the Lonely Mountain, and who had apparently also gained his heart. Being there and taking the time to stroll through the rooms of his home endeared him to her although she had never met him. Everything about Bag End made her feel nestled in the warm arms of the earth it was dug into: the low curves of the wood-clad ceilings and walls, the round windows and doors, the lovely colours of the carpets and blankets, the beautiful wooden floors. There were no hard stone walls or straight edges anywhere in sight. It was certainly very different from Dwarf homes, but in a way that pleased her.

Having reached the entryway, Dis decided to walk out into Bilbo's garden and finish her tea outside. It was a lovely morning, with crisp scents of new grass and young flowers welcoming her as she stepped out. She sat down on Bilbo's bench and breathed in the fresh air. She thought of nothing for a while as she sat there, and it was wonderful.

As she emptied her cup of tea, the sound of the door opening reached her. She turned to face a freshly woken Dwalin squinting in the bright sunshine.

"Well, good morning," she said, giggling.

"My Lady," said Dwalin bringing his hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.

"Would you care for some tea? I can make some more if you like."