Wicked Worm Chapter 02
The dwarves were overjoyed to see Bilbo emerge unscathed from the secret tunnel. None of them had ever heard of someone entering the same dragon's lair twice and living to tell the tale. Their interests were divided according to their ages; the young dwarves wanted to know more about his encounter with Smaug, while the older ones were disappointed that he had not burgled any more treasure while he was down there.
"The dragon is certainly alive, and he appears to be well," Bilbo began. "He was awake this time. I was able to avoid his gaze in the darkness, but I did not dare take any more treasure, for fear that the clinking metal would make a sound and draw his attention."
"Did you see the Arkenstone?" Thorin pressed him.
"I did not," the hobbit answered truthfully. "You have described it well enough that I would know it if I saw it, and while I saw many wonders in that hall, the Arkenstone of Thráin was not among them."
"It is there," Thorin said firmly. "The worm would not ignore such a magnificent jewel; he has certainly added it to his accursed collection. It is there, and we will find it, and I will reclaim it as Thrór's heir."
"That will be no easy task with a live dragon sitting on top of the treasures," Bilbo replied.
"Do you have a plan for getting rid of the dragon?" Kili asked eagerly.
"A plan for getting rid of a dragon?" Bilbo asked, feigning amazement. "I was hired as a burglar, not as a dragon-slayer! I will give the matter some thought, although I might be justified in asking for a re-negotiation of my contract if my duties are undergoing a scope change from treasure-finding into the realm of killing dragons."
"Re-negotiate?" Gloin burst out. "Has the dragon's greed overtaken you? We promised you an equal share in a hoard that rightfully belongs only to us, Thrór's heirs! How can you demand more from us when we all have run the same risks?" Dwalin and Thorin also visibly bristled at the idea.
"Yes, we have all run the same risks, more or less," Bilbo said, keeping his voice low and calm. "But who rescued you from the spiders? Who delivered you from the Elf-king's prison? And who is the only one who has braved the dragon to actually see the treasures that you so bravely claim as your own, not once, but twice? I am not a greedy hobbit, but I do believe in fair payment for a fair day's work, and it seems that, lately, I have been doing all of the work."
The younger dwarves like Fili and Kili saw the justice in that statement, but the older ones disagreed, and they fell to arguing over fairness and who had contributed the most to their quest. In the end, Thorin turned to Bilbo and sullenly said, "So you want payment? Then take the cup that you brought back from below! Mind you, it is only an advance on your one-fourteenth share, not an additional reward. Take it and be satisfied! "
"I will, and thank you," Bilbo said. "But I just realized that I left something important behind in the tunnel. I won't be long." With that, he picked up the golden cup and darted back into the tunnel. The sun was beginning to rise. The dragon's deadline was very near, and for Bilbo, it was truly a dead-line.
He remembered to put on his ring just before he entered the great cavern. The dragon was watching the main entrance for signs of the sunrise, and he visibly jumped when Bilbo called out, "Smaug the Golden! I have returned the things I took which were not mine." He set the cup down. It became visible the moment he let go of it.
Faster than Bilbo thought possible, Smaug's huge head whipped around to focus on the cup at close range. He froze; the dragon's head was barely five feet away from him. He could feel Smaug's hot breath all around him. The huge creature sniffed the cup several times; he cocked his head so he could see it better. Finally, he reached out with a claw and slid the cup back to its original location at the edge of the pile of treasure. It took him several minutes; dragon claws are ill-suited for holding and moving such relatively small objects. Smaug looked at the cup from multiple angles, then withdrew his head, still facing toward the cup.
"Now you have given me a dilemma," he said out loud. "I cannot rightly call you 'thief' anymore, because you have returned everything that you stole. But I do not know what else to call you. I am reluctant to call you 'Barrel-rider,' for I am sure your barrel-riding days are over. What is your name?"
"Oh, umm... I'm not sure we are on a first-name basis yet," Bilbo hemmed and hawed. "I mean, we have not been formally introduced, and I know of no one who can properly make the introductions."
"A mere technicality," the dragon answered firmly. "You already know my name and what I am. It smacks of unfairness that I do not know the same about you. If you will not tell my your name, will you at least do me the courtesy of showing yourself?"
"Well, I'm not sure that would serve my own self-interest," the hobbit said.
"Oh? Then I think you guess badly as to what your own self-interest ought to be. Let me show you the truth of the matter!" With that, the dragon took a quick deep breath and breathed out torrents of flame. He swung his head in a wide arc that encompassed the entire room, with the exception of the part where Bilbo cringed, awaiting the touch of the flames. But those flames never reached him.
"There," Smaug said with satisfaction. "By sound and smell, I know approximately where you are, and so I was able to miss you on purpose. I could just as easily have burned you alive, just as I have burned dozens of other thieves alive. I deliberately spared you, simply to prove that I know where you are. If I was inclined to slay you, then you would be very, very dead. So you see, ex-thief, ex-Barrel-rider, that your self-interest is not served by continuing to hide from me. Your self-interest is best served by not angering me. I just showed you a kindness by not killing you like the intruding thief that you are, or recently were. Now it is your turn to show me a kindness, either by naming yourself, or by letting me see you."
Bilbo could see nothing good that might come from becoming visible. If he ran for his life, he might escape, but if he ever returned to this hall, Smaug would show him no mercy. If he stayed where he was, the dragon obviously knew his general location, and could burn him to ashes if the mood so took him. Staying on the dragon's good side seemed the safer course of action, by a very small margin. With shaking hands, he took off his ring and stuck it deep into his pocket.
"Hmmm." Smaug slowly swung his head closer and closer, until Bilbo thought it was time to become invisible again and run for his life. But the huge head stopped about ten feet away. Smaug sniffed him and looked at him from multiple angles, in much the same way he had examined the cup. He finally drew back with a puzzled expression.
"For some reason, I had thought that someone so brave would be rather larger," he said. "I have not seen your like before, either in size or in courage."
"Well, I'm actually of rather normal size for a hobbit," Bilbo admitted.
"Hobbit? I have not heard that name before. Very well, Hobbit. You may content yourself in knowing that no other creature of any kind has ever stood so close to me and survived."
Bilbo was torn. This dragon was clearly not the mindless killer that the dwarves had warned him about... unless it was still spinning a web of deceit, setting him up for some future downfall. Becoming more friendly with it might bring benefits, or it might ease the dragon's task of killing him and all his friends. What was best? He had had good luck in following his first impression at many points in this journey; he decided to do so again.
"If you please, sir, a hobbit is what I am. My name is Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins, at your service." He bowed slightly.
"Bilbo... Baggins." The dragon let the name slide across his lips. "That is not the name of a fierce warrior. But I see that you carry a sword. Again, you present me with enigmas!"
"Oh, you mean Sting?" He slapped his sword's scabbard. "It's not much more than a large dagger to most people, but it serves a person of my size well enough. I, erm, I took it from a troll who no longer needed it. It shines with its own light when orcs are nearby."
"An Elvish blade from the old master-smiths?" Smaug asked eagerly. "The dwarves of this mountain made many fine blades, but they never learned the secret arts of the elves. If they had, then I would know, because the orcs and the goblins have made many attempts to steal this treasure, and the swords that lie here and there would have shown their light clearly when the thieving creatures slinked in from the lower tunnels. But the swords have remained simple metal without light... and the orcs and the goblins have finally learned their lesson, I think. I have not seen their kind in at least thirty years.
"As for your own blade, if I was the kind of dragon who collected fine things for their own sake, then I would surely challenge you to see how well you handle it... and after I had killed you, I would proudly add it to my collection." Bilbo tensed up, but the dragon went on, "But fear not, Bilbo Baggins. This treasure that I guard is not mine, so I feel no desire to add to it. I may yet amass my own hoard of beautiful things someday, but not at the expense of those who cannot fight back, or those who don't know why they are fighting me.
"But tell me, Bilbo Baggins of the many enigmas: if you are not a warrior, then why do you carry one of the finest blades in all Middle Earth?"
Oh, well, Bilbo thought. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Smaug the Golden, you told me your story yesterday, and I found it quite remarkable. May I tell you my story today?"
"Please do," the dragon said, and rested his head and neck on the piles of gold so he didn't tower over Bilbo so badly.
The hobbit sat down on the stony floor, made himself as comfortable as he could, and proceeded to tell the dragon the story of his journey, from the day Gandalf knocked on his door right up to the present. He skipped over the details of some embarrassing incidents, like how easily the trolls had captured him, but he also glossed over some parts of the story that might have sounded boastful, like his victory over the spiders of Mirkwood. He also omitted all mention of his ring. The dragon's eyes betrayed little emotion, aside from a quick flash of surprise when Gandalf was named, and he offered no questions or comments until the tale was done.
At last, he said, "Now that is a story, indeed. I have no way of knowing the truth or the falsehood of many parts of it, but in terms of the names and places that I do know about, your tale could be true. May I ask you some questions about your adventures?"
"Certainly," Bilbo said, "but would you mind if I ran back up the tunnel for some drinking water first? My throat is quite parched from all this storytelling."
"There is no need for you to go that far," the dragon replied. "There is a substantial river that flows out the main entrance to this hall. You can find all the water you need there."
"I thank you for your kind offer," Bilbo said hesitantly, "but... how shall I say this? Your long residence in this hall has flavored the water somewhat, and..."
"...and the taste and smell of dragon are not to your liking," Smaug finished. "I do not personally understand that preference, but you are far from the first to raise such objections. Take a dwarven helmet, fill it with water from the river, and bring it back here. I will resolve your difficulties with the drinking water." Bilbo did so. "Now set the helmet on bare stone and step aside to a safe distance." The hobbit wasn't sure what a 'safe distance' was, so he backed away twenty steps. That was the dragon's cue to bathe the helmet in a long burst of flame. When he was done, the helmet was scorched but intact, and the water inside was visibly boiling.
"Give the water time to cool off and to settle," the dragon advised him. "Then pour it into a drinking vessel, like that cup that you so kindly returned to me, and I think you will find it quite palatable." Bilbo did as he was told. He feared that the dragon-tainted water would still be as horrid as the water from the dark stream of Mirkwood, but the combination of boiling and settling took away the worst of the dragon smell. The water still had a slight odor to it, but it was drinkable and he was very thirsty. Even the oddity of drinking out of a dwarf-prince's golden cup didn't stop him from filling himself with the water.
"That is much better. Thank you," he said. The last of his fears about whether he could trust the dragon were fading quickly from his mind. "Now, you said you had questions?"
"I have many questions," Smaug replied, "but one or two are of great importance to me. You said that your official status with the dwarves is not that of a friend, but of a paid employee?"
"Yes, that is true," Bilbo said. "I count several of them as friends now, after sharing adventures together, but with the others, my relations are correct but distant. I was hired to be an expert treasure-hunter in exchange for an equal share of the treasure. That is why I came along."
"You realize, of course, that I am opposed in principle to having this treasure taken from me?" the dragon said pointedly. "In order for you to receive your payment, our growing friendship must be terminated."
"Yes... that poses a bit of a difficulty," Bilbo admitted. "But the love of gold and jewels has never possessed my heart, the way it possesses Thorin and some of the others." He made a broad gesture at the heaps of gold and silver all around them. "Even the tiniest fraction of this wealth would be more than I could spend in a dozen lifetimes. It may be that I'll have to forego my payment in exchange for a fair solution to the problems that surround us. If that's so, then I can be content with Sting, some new friends, and a story to tell that no other hobbit can match."
"Let us speak, for a moment, about these new friends," Smaug said. "You say their leader is Thorin, called Oakenshield?"
"Yes, that's him," Bilbo nodded.
"And he is a direct descendant of Thrór, King Under the Mountain?"
"Yes, he is the grandson of Thrór, and he takes great pride in that. Several of my other friends can also trace their lines back to Thrór."
"Excellent," the dragon nodded. "This entire situation started badly, but it has turned out for the best. Now I am very glad that I didn't kill you the moment I detected you, the way I have killed every other thief who tried to take something from this hall. You, Bilbo Baggins, are well-placed to serve as a go-between in my negotiations with this Thorin Oakenshield. If he is truly the heir of Thrór, then this treasure rightfully belongs to him. I will be able to discharge my vow at last!"
"I'm sure Thorin will be glad to reclaim the treasure," Bilbo said hesitantly, "but I very much doubt whether he will enter into negotiations with you. He desires vengeance for his dead kinsmen, and I'm not at all sure that he'll settle for anything less than your death in return."
"That would certainly be a sticking point in our negotiations," the dragon said. "Do you foresee any other difficulties?"
"Only one," the hobbit answered him, "but it is quite a large one. Thorin places great emphasis on becoming the King Under the Mountain after the style of his ancestors. He may not be satisfied with the treasure; he will quite likely demand the mountain as well."
Smaug let out a displeased puff of smoke and thrashed his tail, sending the golden coins flying. "There can be no negotiations on that score. This mountain belongs to the dragons! It is not mine to give away, even if I wished to do so, and I do not wish to do so. I still have hopes of meeting a female here, even after waiting all these years, and no female dragon will ever lay her egg in a mountain cave filled with aggressive, well-armed dwarven warriors. Thorin Oakenshield will have to become King Under Some Other Mountain."
"Then I fear that we are at an impasse before our talks have even started," Bilbo said.
"I am sure that a versatile person like yourself can find a way to break that impasse," the dragon rumbled.
"Me? Bring reconciliation between a dragon and a vengeful, stubborn dwarf like Thorin?" Bilbo wondered. "I am flattered that you have such faith in me, but there are limits to what one hobbit can do."
"Then permit me to rephrase," Smaug said firmly, raising his head so he could glare down at Bilbo. "I have waited too long to be thwarted now by a stubborn dwarf... or by a reluctant hobbit. You will find a way."