Bagginshield Fanfics

Stars Emsiecat

Summary:

A bit early, but I wanted to post this one now so I can spend some time on my Yule fic tomorrow ;P

Chapter Text

"-Oh and this one we call 'the Burning Briar', or sometimes 'the Sickle'. I've heard that it is important to many races, but I can't say if I've heard of the dwarves holding it to any particular significance-"

"We do," Thorin replied smoothly, a smile tilting his lips.

The night air was cool this mid-spring evening, and the both of them were bundled up in cloaks as they sat upon a blanket on the hill above Bag End. Above them, the velvety black of night was studded with thousands of stars, and after they had finished the snacks Bilbo had brought with them, they had turned their discussion to those tiny pin-pricks of light.

Bilbo waved his hands, icy from the chill of the evening, as he indicated to various famous stars and constellations hung above them, twinkling like fireflies.

"What do your folk call it then?"

Bilbo's eyes were wide and wondering in the dark, the starlight seemingly caught within them, and Thorin reached out to brush a lock of hair from the hobbit's forehead, leaning in to indulge his whim and nuzzle his lips against the warm skin of his temple before answering. "We call it 'Durin's Crown'. It is important to us for more than one reason."

Bilbo's eyelids had fluttered shut at the contact, but now, with the unspoken promise of an explanation, he gave Thorin his full attention. The hobbit had always loved a story or a chance to learn some new interesting tidbit about dwarven lore or culture.

"When my ancestor Durin the Deathless awoke to the world, it was in Mount Gundabad, to the north of the Misty Mountains. He travelled south and eventually came upon a lake called Mirrormere. When he stopped there and looked into the lake he saw a crown above his head, made by the reflection of the stars above, despite the fact it was daytime and the stars should not have been visible. It was those very stars that he saw reflected in the lake. He took the crown as a sign; and later founded the city of Khazad-dûm beneath the mountains that fed Mirrormere. There is a pillar there to this day called Durin's Stone that is situated along the banks of the lake to mark the event."

Thorin's gaze softened, affection warming his heart as he noted the awed expression on Bilbo's face. It always filled him with joy to have Bilbo show such interest in any aspect of his people's history.

"What is the other reason for the stars' importance?" Bilbo murmured his voice hushed.

"Ah, that would be because the creation of this constellation was in part due to our own creator, Mahal. It was a joint effort between him and Varda. The tale goes that Mahal was working on making a silver sickle, and when he struck it with his hammer seven sparks flew up into the sky. Varda quickly caught them and set them in the northern sky as a challenge and a warning to Morgoth of his eventual downfall."

"Morgoth's downfall?"

A breeze set the oak leaves above their heads rustling and Bilbo scooted a little closer to Thorin for warmth. Already anticipating the move, Thorin lifted the corner of his cloak and beckoned Bilbo to curl close against him, wrapping them both in the warm woollen fabric. Their shared cloaks and combined body heat banished the chill quickly enough, and Thorin took a moment to formulate a satisfactory answer to the question posed to him.

He had long since learnt that hobbits were insular creatures, not much caring for the world outside their Shire, and even less concerned about the possibility of grand and terrible prophecies coming to pass. Bilbo was altogether a different hobbit. Though he still retained a certain naivety regarding the world beyond his borders; his eyes had been greatly opened by the quest. Coupled with this was the hobbit's naturally curious mind and insatiable thirst for knowledge; as such Thorin had found he did not usually have to explain things quite as thoroughly as one might assume.