A woman could only face so many dragons in her life. If only her father, Belladonna Took, had fought a dragon on his journeys. Sadly, this was not the case. Her father, as adventurous and, by hobbit standards, odd he'd been, he hadn't fought a dragon. It probably had to do with the fact that very few were left in Middle Earth, and now they were even less now that Smaug was slain by Bard the bow-woman.
"Bilbo," the dragon said sweetly, "is there something wrong with your dress?"
"No, no, of course not." Bilbo said. She clutched the golden thread in her hands, feeling it. It reminded her of silk, but the fabric was stronger.
"Then why aren't you wearing it? I picked it out just for you." The dragon straightened herself up. "Do you not like it? Because if you don't, I can find you another. There's no need to worry; there's a lot more."
"Oh," Bilbo said. "It's a very kind offer, Thorin, but I am quite too busy to wear this. It'll slow down my movements."
The dragon raised a dark eyebrow. "What would you need to be doing?" Her mouth was set in a straight, hard line. "You do not mean to leave, do you?"
Well, Bilbo thought, if you keep ignoring the fact that there's going to be a damn war then I just might have to.
The thought saddened her; in no way did she want to abandon the dragon, no, the dwarf, she'd come to care for so much. She couldn't just leave Thorin and all her friend's to die in a pointless war. She didn't believe that Dain and her army would really do so much to help them. They were just one army against Thranduil and Bard's much larger forces, both in physical size and in the amount of soldiers.
"Please don't," Thorin said. She walked up and gently lay a hand on Bilbo's shoulder. Her eyes were hard to discern. "You don't really belong there, do you? You're just an odd little hobbit to them. You did say earlier in the journey that they really weren't going to be surprised that you went on an adventure; they'd always expected you to go mad." A hatred formed in her eyes and her voice grew louder. "Those stupid fools!"
Bilbo opened her mouth to speak.
"If it's about Bag End," Thorin said before Bilbo could even make a sound, "then I can send some dwarves to get your stuff. Or I could just buy you a new armchair, some more books. Mahal, I'll give you the entire library of Erebor if you want it!" She smiled, showing off her fangs, sharper than any sword. "Wouldn't you like that?"
"I never said I was leaving!" Bilbo watched Thorin breathe a sigh of relief, then wait for her to tell her just what she was going to say. Her heart beat a mile a minute. "I just want to see Erebor for all its glory!"
It was a weak lie, but the dragon fell for it. "Oh, I can understand that!" She pulled something out of her pocket, then handed it to Bilbo. "I got it for you."
Bilbo turned the gold bracelet in her arms, watching the rubies gleam in the firelight. "Thank you." She tried to act as though she cared. You had to be happy about whatever a dragon gave you, so long as it wasn't death.
"Will you let me put it on you?" Thorin asked.
Bilbo nodded.
The woman grabbed Bilbo's arm, rolled up her shirt sleeve, then took a moment to just look at her pale arm. Once that was done, she put the bracelet on her arm. It was hard to get around her hand, but Thorin didn't seem to mind. Once it was on her arm, it fit perfectly. Thorin's eyes gleamed.
"It looks wonderful on you," she said.
Bilbo nodded.
Thorin looked down at the clothes Bilbo was currently wearing, the dress forgotten. It was wrinkled already, but no, that didn't matter, because Thorin had more. "Why do you still wear those rags?"
All the dwarves had already ditched their old clothing. Bofur had even ditched her hat, which had seemed so precious to her before, now nothing but a dirty old hat. Bilbo hadn't seen anything sensible for a hobbit to wear, so she'd stuck to her good old red Shire waistcoat, shirt, and pants. As dirty and old as they were, they would do far better for her than any golden dresses or armor would.
"To feel a little less homesick," Bilbo replied. It was an easy lie that simply slipped out of her mouth.
Funny, Bilbo thought. I can't tell if I miss my hobbit hole or not. My books and maps and doilies are all nice, thank you very much, but I love the feeling of adventure.
But looking at Thorin, then at the dragon's golden and bejeweled hoard, she wondered if the adventure was over. The goal had been reached.
It was no longer listening to Gloin affectionately speaking of her husband and daughter while trying to suppress a groan, nor knitting with Ori and discussing books, or trying to get the queen's nieces out of trouble. It wasn't making dinner with Bombur, or helping out Dori, or stealing things for fun with Nori. No longer did Oin concern herself with where she misplaced her ear trumpet, for now she had a golden one. Dwalin didn't jokingly threaten to cut Bilbo in half, and Balin didn't reassure her that her sister was just joking. Bifur wouldn't help teach her ancient Khuzdul, and Bofur wouldn't give her a smile. And Thorin? Thorin was again speaking.
"But you said that you weren't leaving."
Bilbo bit her lip. "I just like them, alright? This coat belonged to my mother Bungo."
"I understand sentimental value," Thorin said. "You know that bracelet I gave you?"
"Yes?"
The dwarf woman smiled. "That belonged to my grandmother. She looked absolutely beautiful in it!" She brushed a kiss on Bilbo's lips. "And so do you." Her voice was so low that Bilbo almost hadn't heard what she'd said.
Bilbo couldn't remember how the dwarf woman had convinced her to go to the main treasury, but there they were. The dragon smiled.
"Do you like it?" The dragon reached down and grabbed a few gold coins, then let them fall from her hands like sand. They clinked when they hit the ground and bounced one or two times before going to rest. "It has only the finest things in the world." She looked Bilbo straight in the eyes. Bilbo fought to keep herself from falling under the dragon's spell.
Bilbo thought back to a story her father had told her as a child. A prince had his memories erased by a dragon, and unknowingly married his own sister. Though the dragon was killed by his his sister, it did not save him. That dragon had been called the mother of dragons, from which all other Middle Earth dragons came.
She refused to look into the dragon's eyes; she was not going to have her memories erased by a dragon. Her father would be rolling in his grave if she did.
"If there's anything you want, just take it." She leaned into Bilbo's ears and whispered, "You've earned all the gold in Erebor; why don't you take it?"
Bilbo swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Open your eyes," the dragon commanded. "Erebor is a sight to behold."
Bilbo did. It didn't matter if she closed her eyes or not, the dragon already had control over her and wasn't afraid to show it.
The gold coins hung high in large, monstrous piles. If the piles were to somehow fall then Bilbo would be crushed to death, her body slowly rotting to its very bones and never being found until someone dug through the pile. If they saw her bones, her old, dry, and very, very dead bones, would that scare the gold sickness out of them?
It's just gold, she told herself. Gold was just metal, shiny metal. It wasn't alive, couldn't breathe, feel pain, sorrow, or pure happiness. It was just gold.
The dragon smiled at her, holding up a golden chained necklace. Jewels of every color covered it, shining like a rainbow in the light. "May I?" The dragon still asked the question, though she knew that Bilbo would answer in her favor. She had to.
"Of course." Bilbo couldn't even remember opening her mouth, but she knew that the words had left her throat.
The necklace fit around her throat perfectly. If it had been any smaller, by just the teensiest bit, it would have choked her. The dragon stepped back to admire her handiwork.
She had awoken in the night to try to leave, the dragon's spell having slightly worn off. However, the dragon slept next to her, guarding her hoard. Besides, escaping would be hard considering that she was heavy with gold and jewels. She couldn't remember the dragon putting them on her, the night before a blank inside of her head.
Cain and her dwarf army arrived. They came with armor and cries of war. Bilbo wished she could see Gandalf again, but she feared she might never see the old witch ever again.
The dragon demanded Bilbo stay behind.
"You are a hobbit, and as much as you have done for us, this is not your fight." And the army left her alone with a small amount of supplies in the cold, always glittering city of Erebor. The dragon stood at the head of the army, ready to burn down the humans and elves with all the fire she had in her.
Bilbo wanted to do something, but she couldn't. The dragon had commanded she stay behind with the rest of her hoard, and disobeying a dragon would only mean death.