All was quiet within the empty cavern, the dark chamber having yet to offer even a single sign of life as an eerie silence encompassed its gloomy depths. The noiseless labyrinth seemed to be frozen in time. Gripped in stillness the cave offered no signs of changing as it lay still within its solitude. It came like a whisper in the night. Faint, almost unrecognizable. So silent was the voice that it could easily be put off as a simple hallucination. And yet, however hard you try, you continue to feel its lurking presence.

There it is again! Resonating through the startled chamber with a power that would provoke even the most stubborn of men into truthful submission. Its rumbling voice seeming to shake the chamber as the flat roar began to form into pitiless proverbs.

"There is something about you. Something you carry, something made of gold... but far more precious!"

The tone the words bore seemed to come from hell itself. A voice so terrible its possessor had to be relentless in their life of shunning the light of day and all the good it brought upon the world. Having instead devotedly dedicated themselves to the pondering of darkness til they were irreversibly succumbed to its malicious clutches. Carrying out its brutal influence on the innocence of others in an attempt to quench their psycontic thrist for sorrow.

Heat seemed to radiate off the mossy chamber walls as a vague dot of light glowed brightly in the distance. Shining so purely one could almost forget the fearful atmosphere in which they were enveloped. Almost. The light grew and grew before dropping off into it's entrancing source of glow. A grand hall lay ablazed with light as piles of glimmering gold stretched endlessly across its vastness, filling the room with mountains of precious jewels. Each coin shone like fire as they reflected the chambers burning light. The shimmering sound of coin against coin seemed to be the only noise residing in the glorious area. Not lasting long, however, the peaceful tinkling was brutally overcome as the crooked voice filled the auditory void.

"Come now. Don't be shy. Step into the light."

The creatures malevolent tone beat mercilessly on the cave as it grew louder and louder. Swallowing up the cavern with its hellish voice. And yet, suddenly, there came another voice. It wasn't like the other voice. No, it was nothing like the other one. This voice granted sweet relief to the ears as if gently mending the abused sense. And just there, huddled in a quivering ball, sat a small figure. It was a hobbit. A mess of brown curls cradled his small head having been caked with what seemed to be dried bits of dirt. Bright brown eyes stretched wide with fear as they darted around in search his accomplice.

"I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug the Unassessably Wealthy. I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence. To see if you really were as great as the old tales say", the small hobbit praised as his eyes darted around frantically in a desperate search for escape," I did not believe them."

Having finally caught sight of a potential exit the small hobbit stumbled blindly across the room. The ground trembled beneath his fumbling feet. The young creature could feel the heat grow hotter around him which seemed to fuel his burning determination. His footing soon became sloppy as the mountains of gold continued to fall out from underneath him. A flourishing fog seemed to encompasses his head as his struggles grew fiercer. Before long the young hobbit lost his footing entirely. Desperately trying to regain his composure the frightened hobbit came to an inelegant stop as he crashed into a mountain of fiery gold. His brown eyes clouded with uncertainty. His attempt to regain his footing quickly failed as his brain seemed to go numb. Blackness slowly started to caress the unnerved creature as it slowly dragged him into its peaceful depths. Just as he was falling into the dark abyss he heard a statement that would forever be engrained within his mind.

" I am fire! I - AM - DEATH!"

Bilbo woke with start, retching a pitiful wail of anguish. He was soaked from head to toe in a cold sweat, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He trembled from furious as he made a desperate attempt to untangled himself from his prison of damp blankets. As his quivering feet met the coolness of familiar hardwood floors he gave a sigh of relief. Releasing the tension in his muscles he began to regain his composure. Slowing his racing pulse with deep breaths and relishing in the fact that the horrifying event has long since passed. Yes. It had been 10 years since the hobbit came face to face with the demonic creature known as Smaug, and yet the chilling name still made his blood run cold.

With heartbeat restored and legs still shaking Bilbo heaved himself off the bed. Attempting to relieve his strained muscles the brown-eyed hobbit arched his back in which, much to his delight, was responded with a delicious crunch. Turning to gather his solid sheets the ruffled hero was met with a beautiful sight. Resting on the bed was another hobbit. A female hobbit in fact. Vibrant red hair enclosed her pale face as her slumber continued. Bilbo's heart skipped a beat as he looked upon his loving wife. Since his return back to Hobbiton, it hadn't take him long to fall in love. Her name was Genevieve, and she was the love of the mans life. They'd married a mere eight years previous and went on to conceive a son two years later.

"Dad", a small voice came from the doorway as a small child entered the room. In his fist he held a woven blue blanket that could be seen trailing behind him. A pout adorned his face as he used his other hand to rub at his eye, attempting to wipe away his fatigue. He wore pale green nightwear that hung off his meager frame. On his head rest a messy pile of auburn curls that fell in waves around his face. Chocolatey brown eyes continued to squint in protest against the bright light that poured through the window. Through long lashes the little hobit looked up as he locked eyes with his father's identical gaze.

"Good morning Harlow," Bilbo whispered as a made his way towards the wavering figure that was his son. " What are you doing up so early in the morning?"

The middle-aged hobbit bent down, sweeping the young boy into his arms. Satisfied with the child's infectious laugh he recieved in return. The brown eyed boy was his whole world. Ever since he first held his small child six years ago he'd loved him. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would risk anything and everything to keep the little boy safe. He swore to never let the boys smile fall from his face. Because to him, even the the dullest of his days didn't stand a chance against his child's brilliant smile.

"I was wondering if we could go to the pond today," the small lad questioned as he instinctively wrapped his small arms around his father's neck. Making his way out of the bedroom Bilbo shut the door quietly, hopefully granting his hardworking wife a longer slumber.

"I'm sure we can arrange that," the man assured his young charge as a playful smile made its way upon his face. With a joyous cheer the minor leaped from his fathers arms in a jubilant rush. Scrambling towards his room he slammed the wooden door, intent on prepare for the journey to come. Watching his sons joyous state caused Bilbo to snicker. Shaking his head fondly the elder hobbit made his way through the peaceful home. He breathed in the familiar subtle air that he'd come to recognize and relish in. He was truly a lucky man. Taking in the exquisite abode around him the mans face finally relaxed as he allowed the security of his home surround him.

"Dad?" his young son had returned from his frantic packing as he gazed upon his father. But unlike the joyful expression he'd left with, his face was twisted with innocent concern."Are you alright?"

Amber met amber as Bilbo's warm gaze met that of his sons. The man covered the distance easily as he crouched before his son, running a gentle hand through the youth's soft messy curls. The anxious youth relaxed immediately as he leant into his fathers touch and was enveloped by his warm embrace.

"I'm absolutely perfect Harlow," Bilbo reassured the child as he continued to run his fingers through the silky hair." Everything is going to be alright. There is nothing else to fear. Everything is going to be completely fine."

Confused by his father's strange choice of words the young boy continued to cling to the older man, intent on listening to the small nothings his father was telling him. Time seemed to disappear as the two stood in a comfortable silence. Neither knew how long they stayed there, and yet neither truly cared. But when they did separate, however long it had been, both father and son made their way towards the door. With their hands interlocked father and son walked out the door, both wearing gentle looks of contentment on their similar features. For youth and elder knew that Bilbo's words stood truthfully.

Everything would be absolutely fine.

The End