It actually shocked me a bit, when I at last awoke; I had thought that my sleep would be of a more eternal sort. That it was not… well, I suppose it was pleasant enough for me, but for Middle Earth in general? Perhaps not. I stretched, and the gold laying atop my back tumbled down with a pleasant clatter. I wondered when the dwarves who'd once owned this fortress would show up; soon, probably, although I feared I wouldn't notice. After all, the stench of them was still so strong here that new ones likely wouldn't make much difference. One would almost think the lot of them never bathed, though how they dealt with that in the stifling closeness of their halls I would never know; perhaps their eyes had grown so adept at seeing the sheen of gold and gems that their noses had gone blind. I snorted, and the very fine, unworn cloak that had somehow become draped over the tip of my nose flew across the room.

I took a moment to wander about the fortress, stretching legs that hadn't moved for, I assumed, over a hundred years. Always I felt a faint tug to return to the treasury, however; a rather bothersome byproduct of my redemption, but it was, I supposed superior to the fate I would have suffered had I not taken the offer. One simply cannot say one has lived, after all, unless one has been told that an eternity of being worn as a rather eccentric wizard's belt awaits unless one agrees to serve as a guard against evil and whatnot. Another snort, and this time, a bit of fire came with it. That tapestry was quite hideous anyway, by the way.

I flicked my tail and turned, the urge to return to the treasury growing too much for me to ignore. Such punishment really was excessive, I think, for the destruction of one little village, and it wasn't as though it hadn't been rebuilt! Not well, from what I'd heard, but it had been rebuilt, and surely there were plenty of mountains those dwarves could inhabit. In fact, why did they need a mountain at all, really? Surely they could make tunnels on flat ground as well, could they not? Or perhaps not live in tunnels at all! A little sky would've been good for them.

Alas, not everyone is quite as sane as I. The wizard who'd showed up perhaps ten years after I conquered Erebor, a very funny little man whose name I never learned, was particularly not at all sane. He was at least creative, however; very few men would think to tell a dragon that they would be killed and then, as insult, be turned into accessories. Had the fool not had the power to back that particular idiotic threat up, I might have remembered him fondly. As it stood, I'd been relegated into being a guard dog, as that, obviously, is what sane men do when they have an almighty dragon such as myself in the palm of their hand.

Would anyone have even told the damned dwarves who were, no doubt, on their way here? Probably not. No one ever bothers with such silly details as that, not even in a footnote, as though it is so difficult to add in such an addendum; ah, yes, and please do not try to kill the massive dragon in that particular mountain, as it has, somehow and through no desire of its own, managed to become the only living being in the way of thousands of years of darkness and torment for all the adorable little creatures of Middle Earth and so on and so forth. You see? That is all it would take, just a tiny little note in the history books. Not that I was under any illusion that a dwarf would ever read it, but still; at least it would give something else the means to let them know.

As it stood, I would surely have to deal with the screaming, and the threatening, and oh, the sword throwing for at least a half hour or so before I finally managed to get it through their thick skulls that they were literally not allowed to kill me. I sighed; I would have returned the damned mountain gladly if I could avoid that. The place wasn't even interesting anymore; I'd looked at all the truly unique treasures by the end of the first week, and all the books had been read by the month's end.

Truly, looking back on it all, none of it had actually been worth it, but I had been quite young at the time, and young dragons are not exactly known for their skill at considering the future, most especially when "future" generally means a few centuries rather than a few days. And I'd had such a nice horde in the distant, frozen mountains of the far north! It had been in such a cozy mountain, too, nothing at all like this place. I'd heard tales of the treasures of Erebor, however, and I'd gotten curious. May it never be said that a dragon's curiosity ends any better for the dragon than a cat's does for it.

Would the dwarves have a wizard with them, I wondered? I hoped so; I wanted to eat one, just out of spite. Of course, as I've already said, it might not matter anyway, given that I'd awoken. That, you see, meant that there was a very real chance that the evil I blocked was stirring, and who was to say if I would be sufficient to keep it contained? I surely wouldn't; I am strong, yes, and none would ever deny that, but I am certainly not impossible to kill, and I am under no illusions that I could stand for eternity against something of equal or greater might to myself. But, I had indeed made a promise, no matter the pressure I'd been under when I made it, and I will not have it be said that I am an oath breaker. I yawned, relaxing atop the gold as the ever present thrum of whatever spell the wizard had cast to make certain I was held here washed over me.

For some reason or another, however, I quite hoped it would all matter after all; perhaps I'd awoken only to make certain the dwarves didn't kill me without realizing my place, or perhaps they would for once be of aid and vanquish whatever evil it was that I held back, and I could leave the damnable fortress and return to my old mountain. It would surely be overrun by now, of course, and perhaps ransacked, but surely I could fix that in a short enough time; no more than the time I'd been stuck here, to be sure.

LINE BREAK

Bilbo's POV

Deep within the elven dungeons, hiding in the darkness with naught but my ring as protection, I could think only of the sight of Erebor on the Carrock. We had been so near; would it be this that stopped us? I couldn't believe that, not while I was still free. There was yet a chance. After all, I'd found plenty of places through which someone of my size could escape, though none quite large enough for thirteen dwarves to pass unnoticed.

That there were points for me to pass meant that there were weaknesses, though; all I had to do was find them, and then… then everything would be alright. I nodded to myself and began moving through the dungeons again, passing guards as easily as smoke, though a few followed me with their gaze, suspicious and surely thinking themselves mad for it.

I knew I'd been around the dwarves for too long because that actually amused me, a little; I suppose at least I hadn't taken up the quite vulgar term some of them seemed fond of using for the elves, but I think that might just be because I do actually like the majority of them. It's only all this imprisoning and the inability for either of the sides to actually talk to one another and-. Well, it's a very small amount of issues, really, and the majority are for both sides, and it certainly wouldn't do to be distracted by it then.

Despite my attempts to focus and get things done, it still really did shock me when I finally did happen upon a way to get the dwarves out, although I imagined they'd all find it very… unpleasant. But, really, what did that matter? They'd certainly done plenty to me that I found unpleasant, like raiding my pantry and blunting my knives and head-butting me, and surely I could have a little payback for all that, especially since I was doing this to save them. I nodded once to myself, very proud; I was quite certain my dear friends would be proud of me as well. I was, after all, starting to think like them. The room I'd found, some sort of loading area, with barrels and a rather ingenious system to get things out, was empty but for a single sleeping guard, so I allowed myself a soft chuckle before I made my way back into the tunnels.

Eventually, I managed to tell all the dwarves that I had a way to free them, and even got them to agree to coming with me once I got them out, shockingly enough in Thorin's case. That he'd begun to legitimately trust me over the course of this quest was… strange, but certainly welcome. I wondered what the Shire would say, when I returned and told them of all of this.

I paused a moment; had I really just thought, so surely, so easily, that I would return? I had. My, but I had come a very long way, and not just in distance. I smiled to myself; now, I had to fetch a key, somehow, and then get them all down to the barrel room, and then hope that they didn't kill me when they found out exactly what my plan was, as I hadn't quite told them the specifics of it, only that I knew how to get them out. I coughed, quietly, and then began seeking out a wandering guard, whom I caught surprisingly easily and, with equal ease, pickpocketed the key off of him.

As I made my way back to the cells and found myself very, very grateful for the lessons Nori had insisted upon; that he'd been a cutpurse had once… bothered me, a little, but in a situation such as this, one gains a strange appreciation for such skills. I was so eager that I didn't even wait until morning, instead running about like a madman and setting all of my friends free.

I had memorized the guard pattern in my time there; as such, it was a simply matter, taking them through tunnels I knew would be empty to get them to the room. They all stared at me when we got there in varying degrees of nerves; Bofur in particular looked worried that I'd hit my head on something while down there. I sighed.

"Please, just trust me; get in the barrels, all of you."

"Bilbo-," someone, I think Kili, began, but I shook my head.

"Please. You've followed me this far, haven't you? I know what I'm doing, so get in the barrels." Wonder of wonders, the stubborn dwarves actually obeyed and scrambled into the enormous barrels that had, I assumed, once contained alcohol of some sort. Before they could protest again, I told them all to hold their breath and pulled the lever. They only cursed me a little when they started rolling, at which point I realized the major flaw of my plan; I'd quite forgotten about a way to get myself out after this.

I cleared my throat, quite embarrassed at myself, and finally decided that the best option would be to go find one of the hobbit-sized holes I'd seen earlier and get out that way. Perhaps this would've been fine, but just then, before I managed to get my ring back on, I, of course, got caught.

The elf before me, one who was very tall and thin, with the palest blonde hair, raised an eyebrow. He looked rather a lot like Thranduil, I noticed, if not quite as severe, and I perhaps cowered a little.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, legitimate surprise at my presence appearing for but a moment before it was replaced by faint displeasure.

"Oh! Oh, I, er got lost. Yes, you see, I got lost in the dungeons, and found my way here. It was all very unfortunate. His eyebrow went up higher. I'm quite certain I flushed like a fool; Nori might have taught me to pick pockets like him, but he had never been able to impart his skill at lying. I squirmed under the elf's scrutiny.

"That I could believe, but I think the bigger issue is why, exactly, you were in the dungeons to begin with, hobbit?" Oh, dear. That he knew what I was would probably cause more issues. It had been quite well reported that the company was traveling with me, and I didn't imagine that this elf was under the illusion that hobbits were a common sight in Mirkwood.

"Erm." He actually laughed, a little.

"You were travelling with those dwarves, weren't you? Come to free them?" I thought to try and lie again, but I could see on his face how little good it would do; I couldn't see a way for him to make that more obvious. He chuckled faintly. "Or perhaps you already have, from that look on your face. Shall I assume they're currently floating down the river in the barrels that were meant to be sitting about where you're standing?"

"Possibly, yes." He nodded, stepping closer to me, his head tilted to one side.

"Do you plan on telling you why I shouldn't kill you now, hobbit?" I gaped.

"Um, well, it wouldn't really do you much good now, would it? After all, they're already gone, aren't they? Killing me wouldn't bring them back up here." He laughed again, looking very oddly pleased. At least he was in a good mood, I supposed.

"True enough; I see why they had you, now. You're much cleverer than any of them. How did you manage to get down here, exactly?"

"I'm quite small, as you can see. It was… easy to sneak," I said, and while I don't think he believed me, by any means, he seemed to know well enough not to press it.

"Well, you've helped them free, in any case, though I'd imagine the orcs will be on them soon. Now what do you plan on doing with yourself?" I stared.

"You could let me go," I tried. "I'll do you little good, after all." He grinned, his eyes bright.

"Now, that I'm not so sure of. From what I've seen, I'd imagine they'd have gotten nowhere very quickly were you not around. You know… come, sit with me for a moment; if I do not raise it, the alarm that they are gone will not be raised for some time. The sun is only just rising, after all, and our guards down here are not the best, as our best have become far too busy fighting the spiders and other such things in the woods themselves. There is something you ought to know, and perhaps your thick-headed companions will actually hear it from you." I could only stare at him more, but by that point, I had little choice but to comply. He was, after all, keeping me alive, and while he did seem a bit… arrogant, he didn't seem hostile, per se.

"Alright," I said, and he led me to the table where the elf slept very, very soundly. I noticed at last a few bottles of something scattered around, and supposed it really was no great shock that he'd not awoken despite the clatter.

"Your mission is to kill the dragon Smaug and reclaim that mountain of theirs, is it not?" I nodded, and he sighed. "You cannot." I blinked.

"I can assure you, I already know just how unlikely this mission is. My contract expressly mentioned incineration, and other very dragon-y ways to die." He chuckled again, but shook his head.

"I'll admit that if the matter was just killing the thing, that would be your main concern, but the matter isn't just killing the thing. It's that you can't kill it. Not long after it took Erebor and destroyed Dale, the dragon was almost killed my some very powerful wizard who was never recognized as one of the wizard order. That wizard recognized an evil there, and demanded that the dragon help keep that evil locked away in exchange for his life. I do not know what this evil is, but I do know that if Smaug is killed, it will go free. Truly, I don't care at all whether those dwarves get that mountain back; I only care that they don't kill the damned dragon, and I know my father won't mention it as well as I know that they won't listen to me." Oh, dear. I could think of very few other ways to respond to that, really. What in the world… I sighed. Only I could manage to get myself entangled in such a right mess; I blamed the Took in me.

"I suppose at this point that only makes sense," I sighed. "So, what do you propose I do?" He shrugged.

"Stop them from killing it, and, if you can, stop them from getting their hands on that rock of theirs. I'm pretty sure we've all got enough to deal with right now, with the orcs rising like they are, and I don't think anyone wants to deal with another cluster of power mad dwarves along with a mysterious, nameless evil kept at bay only by a legendary dragon." That… was quite true. I wondered if I could ever be a proper hobbit again after all of this. Probably not. I sighed.

"Alright, I'll see what I can do, but I won't make promises. They are a stubborn lot." He snorted.

"I'll assume that's an understatement, hobbit. Now, hop in a barrel, would you? I'll send you on your way and raise the alarm. That'll get some guards after you, and if the orcs have come as I suspect, they'll keep them at bay so you all can escape. I'll likely be along as well, but please, don't act as if you've spoken to me." You know, when I was a child, I imagined adventure as a pleasant stroll through the woods, happening across pleasant things, like Rivendell, along the way. I really, really wished quests were like that in truth; my life had gotten so very unpredictable since I threw my lot in with the company. I couldn't help but laugh as I did what the elf, who I assumed was a son of Thranduil, had asked of me and climbed into a barrel of my own. He rolled me over the hatch and opened it, and at last, I was on my way after my friends.

I discovered quickly that the elf had been right, when my barrel caught up to the rest; orcs were swarming but there, there were the elves; they fought well, and very beautifully, dancing about and seeming to kill an orc with every move. Even a few of the dwarves looked impressed, at least until the elf I'd met came and began hopping about on their heads to kill his targets. He did spare me a quick wink while he did, though, and at the very least none of the dwarves noticed that.

When the last of the orcs were killed, however, the elf did keep his word; we passed him by, and he did nothing to stop us. He didn't even raise his bow once as we drifted by him. Landing upon the shore was still a blessing, however, and I'm sure the lot of us were coughing up water for hours afterwards.

By then, I was sopping wet and certain I was going to catch a cold in the chill weather; I had absolutely no desire to mention what I'd learned of Smaug, and I certainly didn't know how to bring it up, nor how to explain where I'd learned it without saying the word "elf." One day, I swore, I was going to find the one part of this quest that was easy.

I decided as we made camp to go the direct route. That had always seemed the best option with them before, and I didn't see that being any different then. I took a deep breath, gathered them around the fire, and spoke what I needed to speak, my teeth chattering and my hair still dripping slightly.

"We can't kill Smaug."

"What?" The dwarves really did work together exceptionally well; they said that all together, and their eyes all went simultaneously wide. Even Thorin's, oddly enough. I had at least said, it, though. Of course, I was quite certain that I was going to have to wait some time (likely an hour, at least) before the rabble died down enough that I could say anything else.