Smaug had sought out the lonely Mountain for the dwarfs' glorious treasures, piles of gold and gems and that beautiful gleaming Arkenstone. Smaug was a powerful drake and while he preferred solitude, every drake needs to pass on his power. Before he wrought his wrath upon the mountain, he found a female drake to bear his egg. Frightfully small things are drake eggs, just a mite bigger than a human or dwarfs head, much smaller than a dragon scale. Drakes grew exponentially over the course of several thousands of years, but the eggs take decades to finish forming, and to hatch. Each drake's growth rate is individual, but every drake grows large enough to occupy a mountain if they so desire to claim one. Smaug is a prideful and greedy drake, and rather than see the female raise his spawn he steals the egg away after she has laid it, tucking it safely away in between a few scales, using it to shield his weak spot and keep it warmed by his body heat. The Lonely Mountain was also to be his nest, and after he warded off the dwarf pestilence he coiled himself in and under the piles of gold, the metal soaking up his radiated head and creating a perfect environment for his precious egg to incubate. Yes, this was his true reason for choosing the Lonely Mountain. Atop the pile of gold in which he circled, the Arkenstone and his precious flower yellow egg rested, in the center of his protective ring.
The awakening of Smaug was not what Bilbo had expected, nor was the battle of five armies that followed mere days after the mountain was reclaimed. Thorin, Fili and Kili were all three in a massive tent, each tenderly laid out on furs and being minded by at least one healer each. Bilbo stood at the entrance of the tent, eyes watching as Thorin coughed up blood to be wiped away by a white rag in a healer's hand. He stood there, fingers worrying over the bumpy surface held under a blanket, warmth radiating from the bundle the size of his head. It was nothing like the Arkenstone, but it definitely was a treasure of the mountain, and Bilbo gave a soft puff of air in defeat.
He hoped that Thorin would forgive him for his betrayal, he still had no clue where the Arkenstone was at this time, likely Bard or Thranduil still held the precious fist sized jewel. Puffing up his chest a bit and trying to tell himself he could face his king, Bilbo strode forward, the gem pressed to his chest seeming to pulse a bit with his determination. The healer at Thorin's bedside looked at Bilbo for a moment, and then slowly nodded, doubt lingering in his movements. Bilbo sighed again, and looked down at Thorin to find the dwarf king already gazing at him.
"Th-thorin, I…" Bilbo started, but at Thorin's unwavering look he could do little but sputter. Wincing and screwing his eyes shut, he gingerly held out the bound gem. For a moment he swore he heard a chirp…He shook it off when he felt a hand touch one of his.
"What is this…Bilbo?" Thorin asked weakly. The hobbit opened his eyes slightly.
"I...Honestly I am not quite sure, I found it next to the Arkenstone when I stole it away from Smaug, it was so beautiful and unique that I thought to take it as well…" Bilbo muttered slowly, not sure how his gift would be taken.
"Why do you bring this to me?" the dwarf mumbled softly, his hand on Bilbo's shaking slightly. Bilbo drew a deep breath, tucking the gem close to him thus removing Thorin's hand from his. He regretted the lost contact instantly, but he had to hold the gem close in order to unbind it. It was a great amount larger than the Heart of the Mountain, though not nearly as flawless. He drew the corner of the ragged blanket from the gem, the cloth dropping to his feet as he held the uncut gem delicately. Thorin's eyes lit up and he spent a minute in a coughing fit, waving away the healer that came rushing over.
"Bilbo that is no gem you hold." Thorin growled darkly, coughing once again. Bilbo sputtered a little.
"Not a gem? Well what on earth-" He was interrupted by that chirping noise again and a pulse of warmth came from the – gem? Rock? A soft tapping noise filled the tent, and the healers tending to Fili and Kili looked over curiously. Both boys were asleep, Fili's head bound and his eyes covered, no one knew if he would ever wake from his injury.
"That, my dear hobbit is a drake egg." Echoed the deep chuckle from the tent entrance. Bilbo glanced over to find Gandalf leaning heavily on his staff, and Beorn in human guise standing behind him. Bilbo started.
"A- A drake's egg?!" Bilbo thought he might just faint, if not for the soft cooing sound that came from his arms, followed by that tapping noise. Gandalf smiled fondly.
"Why yes, a drake's egg, Smaug's egg in fact. It seems his choosing of Erebor to claim was not merely for the treasures within. A nest of gold and gems is the perfect environment in which to incubate a drake egg." Gandalf explained, taking a stand next to Bilbo, a hand reached out of layers of grey cloth to rest on the golden object.
"And it seems that had we waited one year more to take our quest, we would have failed!" Gandalf scoffed, withdrawing his hand with mild disgust. Bilbo looked up at him curiously, glancing back to Thorin for a moment.
"And why is that, Gandalf?" he asked quietly. Gandalf seemed to roll his eyes at the hobbit.
"Because that egg is hatching, now." The wizard said rather bluntly, promptly turning and leaving. Beorn still stood at the mouth of the tent.
"Little bunny, be careful with that egg. It knows you now. You will have to raise the drake, be its mother. The wizard left for all our sakes. That drake can't be exposed to magic like his, cannot be raised here either. Too much greed, the drake will go mad and kill us." Beorn rumbled, crossing his arms firmly. Bilbo swallowed, and looked at Thorin. The dwarf looked solidly back at him, causing Bilbo to sigh for the umpteenth time that day.
"Well then I suppose I'll have to take it somewhere more peaceful, won't I?" Bilbo stated solemnly. Beorn gave a rough nod in return.
"You may raise it with me, if you have no other place in mind." Beorn said dismissively, bowing his head and leaving the tent behind. Bilbo ran a hand along the top curve of the egg, a soft bump hit underneath his palm.
"What will you do, burglar?" he heard Thorin ask. Bilbo shrugged.
"I'm not sure, actually. The concept of raising a drake is rather shocking. Knowing it would need to be raised away from magic and wealth…" Bilbo trailed off. Thorin seemed to nod knowingly.
"No young drake has been raised by the people of middle earth, before." Thorin started, taking a pause to breathe deeply. A healer looked over with some concern, but Thorin waved a hand and the healer calmed.
"Gandalf has told me tales, however, of the days when a wizard would steal away a drake egg in the hopes that he could raise the powerful being to protect the people of the west rather than hunt them. He told me how the wizards failed; the dragons wanted the wizards' magic powers and slew them in greed. The presence of wealth would create another Smaug, when we only just rid ourselves of him." The dwarf lamented dully. Bilbo gave a slight smile.
"It would not do to have your mountain claimed by another drake so soon. Perhaps the ways of a hobbit will tame this little one? I would hope so, though it is a daunting task." The hobbit chuckled, petting the warm egg. He was unsure of what to do. He had hoped to present the gem – now egg – to Thorin as a peace offering. A frown reached his face.
"What makes you frown, burglar?" Bilbo winced.
"This was supposed to be my peace offering to you…A repayment for the Arkenstone. Now I have no choice but to leave, or risk your kingdom being lost once again." Bilbo answered sadly. Thorin chuckled deeply.
"And here I was trying to find a way to make you forgive me." Bilbo sputtered, confused.
"Me? Forgive you? Whatever for? I'm the one who gave the Arkenstone to Bard and the elves, your greatest treasure…" the hobbit murmured. A hand rested on top of his.
"Bilbo, my treasure means nothing compared to my family. Fili and Kili are dying…And so am I." was the whispered answer. Bilbo stared at Thorin in shock.
"Y-you can't be dying, Thorin! You don't seem unwell at all…" Bilbo panicked. Thorin's head shook slowly, and Bilbo saw a line of blood seeping from the corner of the dwarf's mouth. The hobbit looked at the blanket over Thorin's chest; a red stain had begun to seep through the cloth.
"H-healer! Come help, please!" Bilbo yelled, placing the egg carefully but quickly on the fur next to Thorin. Said dwarf proceeded to go into a coughing fit that made the color drain from Bilbo's face. The dwarf healer came over and Thorin shoved them away roughly.
"I do not need your aid! Heal my nephews before me! I have proven I have no right to rule…I succumbed to the greed of my fathers before me, they should not suffer any more for my mistake!" Thorin roared, gasping in pain and clutching his ribs. Bilbo stood there shaking, unsure of what to do. Then his decision was answered for him as more healers came to the dwarf king, holding him down and tending to his chest wounds. The hobbit glanced to Fili and Kili – both had two or three healers each, and they looked stable. The healers would have nothing of Thorin's attempts at letting himself die. As the healers started talking loudly to each other, the soft cracking and tapping went unnoticed on the edge of the tent, until a shriek filled the tent – healers and hobbit alike froze. Bilbo looked around frantically, until his eyes laid on the remainder of the egg – and the soft gold and green creature sitting among the broken shell. A gasp left his lips as emerald eyes looked confidently back at him. For a moment it seemed the entire world had paused, and Bilbo took a step towards the small, fragile creature. Then chaos erupted.
"Dragon!"
Dwarfs screamed and the healers stood protectively around king and heirs alike, and Bilbo found himself running in front of the tiny creature, barely the size of a cat. Several guards tried to enter the tent at once, the support beams creaking their disagreement. Shouts and yells continued about and the dwarf guards growled and attempted to move past Bilbo. The hobbit would not budge.
"No, No! You will not harm this little thing! It hasn't done anything to you!" Bilbo squeaked, arms open as a guard brandished an axe at him.
"St-stand down…" Thorin ordered weakly, a healer wrapping fresh bandages around his chest. Bilbo caught a glimpse of the mush of flesh underneath, a chill going up his spine. Shaking himself from the temporary distraction, Bilbo turned around and scooped up the tiny creature, and much to his surprise the little thing gave a soft mewl and nuzzled into his neck. He examined it for a moment – to his surprise it was all flesh and no hard scales or horns. There were fleshy spikes sticking out from its spine, flexing and curling slightly. It had a long whip-like tail with a spade at the end, much like Smaug had. The wings had no webbing, so perhaps the webbing would later grow in along with horns and scales. One of his hands found the top of the creatures head, and he felt two nubs behind the eye-ridges. Future horns, maybe. The precious little bundle curled its neck back, and those great big green eyes stared at him intently. He found himself staring back, as if his soul were being searched. From nothing he heard a voice, speaking in an old tongue he couldn't understand. He struggled to make sense of the rapid speech in his mind before the voice stopped altogether, and upon one word which then he spoke.
"Ilaurënda…"
The little drake seemed to smile at him then, closing its eyes and nodding slowly. Bilbo creased his brows.
"Is that your name, little one?" he found himself whispering curiously. He was surprised when the tiny thing nodded again, flicking a forked tongue along his nose. He gave out an energized titter, probably sounding quite mad.
"Ilaurënda is of an old tongue…Few speak it anymore." Came a sing song voice from behind the dwarf guards. Bilbo looked out and found Legolas and Thranduil standing side by side, Legolas' brow furrowed in thought. Thranduil raised a brow speculatively.
"It is old Quenya, and it means 'The Golden Heart'. Fitting, I believe, for the heart of the dragon that plagued the Lonely Mountain." Thranduil commented dryly. Bilbo looked again at the little drake clutched to his chest. It eyed him playfully. The voice assaulted his mind again as the drake's eye turned to Thorin, and Bilbo let out a yelp as the dragon bounced from his arms and rather lightly next to the dwarf king, who simply let out a pained cough. The dwarf glared at the reptile at first, his hatred for Smaug still fresh. Bilbo went to grab the drake but the voice lashed out in his mind loudly and he gave a pained cry, holding his head. When he looked at the drake again it was looking back at him sadly. It looked over to Thranduil and the elf king gave a small glare and scoff.
"You have little experience with drakes, Master Baggins. That voice you are hearing is the voice of the drake, and it is in Quenya until the drake learns the tongue of man. The drake has not so kindly… requested that I tell you it is a female, and her power is the ability to heal." Thranduil drawled, an annoyed twitch barely present by one eye. Bilbo's mouth gaped open rather indignantly in front of the elven king.
"A girl drake that can heal…?" Bilbo's mind slowly put the two facts together and he looked over at it – her! – sitting by Thorin. The little dragon seemed to chirp at him in a laughing manner, before she crawled onto Thorin's shoulder, startling the dwarf king to lying back down with a gasp of pain as her small paws touched his wounds. Once he was lying down completely she moved to sit on top of his chest, staring at him intently. The dwarf king returned the stare, while not angrily, not with a lot of kindness either. With a dragon sitting on your broken and mangled chest would you be very happy to be having a staring contest? For several long minutes this seemed to drag on, Bilbo was just about to start worrying at his nails if something didn't change.
After what seemed like an eternity in the pregnant silence, Thorin's eyes closed and the little drake pressed her forehead to his. A soft green light came from her delicate little fingers and toes which stood firmly on top of Thorin's gravely wounded body. The light did not seem to expand so much as it grew, like the roots of a tree finally having found water. The tendrils of light slowly turned a sickly red, until there was no green left. The drake then pulled away, blinking at Bilbo owlishly before glancing at Thranduil and back to Bilbo. The elven king gave a soft mutter in sindarin.
"This is the last translation, Ilaurënda. After this you must learn the Westron tongue." Thranduil glowered at the little drake before addressing Bilbo.
"She says she could not heal him anywhere near completely, but she has brought him from the edge of death so the healers may bring him round on their own." The elven king explained quietly. Bilbo gave a whoop of joy before coughing and fixing his coat hem. The elven king seemed then to glare at him.
"You must leave with her this evening. To a place that knows no greed of man or magic of elves and wizards." Thranduil remarked gravely, glancing at his son. Legolas returned the look and stepped forward, bowing slightly.
"I will escort you to your destination, Master Baggins." The prince offered graciously. Thranduil turned then, and left rather abruptly like everyone else seemed to be doing today. Bilbo gave an annoyed huff. Just because there was a young drake didn't mean people could forget their manners! Legolas gave a small smile.
"My father does not like drakes, but he does know a bit about them. He is right, she cannot be raised by men or elves or dwarves or even wizards. I would think your shire or Beorn's may be the only place she could grow into something that would help the west, rather than destroy it. I will follow you to either to ensure your safety, and hers." Legolas chimed, his young voice a blessing on the ears.
Bilbo looked to Thorin, who was sleeping peacefully, the drake still sitting atop his chest. He gave a sigh, and offered an arm to the little drake who eagerly climbed up to perch on his shoulder. He rested the same hand on Thorin's shoulder for a moment, and the king stirred a little then remained deep in slumber. A cough came from the other side of the bed. Bilbo looked up to see the same grouchy healer glowering at him, with three more healers behind him doing the same.
"We'll heal Fili an' Kili up right as rain, Thorin was our real concern. We'll tell him what ye had to do, lad. Best ye hide that dragon under the blanket you brought her egg in. Were anyone see her they'd try to kill her." The healer said quietly, placing his hand over Bilbo's in an assuring manner. The hobbit nodded solemnly.
"Tell him I'll write when I can. I think… I'll be going home for a while."