AN: languages

"Westron" (Common tongue)

~Khuzdul~ (Dwarvish spoken language)

All rights belong to PJ and JRRT.

Some of the dialogue with Smaug in this chapter comes from the Hobbit book.

Huge thanks to Nikolai and Calenithlon for the actual translations from Khuzdul and Sindarin to English (or vice versa). My Khuzdul would not be as good without them!

Chapter Nine

Donnabelle didn't know what to expect when she entered the mountain. All she knew is that she had to find the Arkenstone for Thorin. He hadn't wanted to let her in, but the hobbit was adamant: she was the only one who could go and perhaps come out alive at the end of it all. After all, her scent was something the dragon would not have smelt before. So it was with much trepidation that Thorin let her head down the passage alone. She felt very small as she came to the end of the hallway and into the main treasure chamber of Erebor. From what she remembered of the stories Frérin had told her of the mountain, the hall she had arrived in was the grandest of all Thrór's treasure halls. Standing at the edge of the massive cavern, she truly believed that.

Her eyes lit up at the piles of gold, gems and trinkets. There was even more in the hall than Frérin had led her to believe! She gulped. How on earth was she supposed to find the Arkenstone in all of that treasure? And was Smaug still alive under all that?

She blinked and rubbed her eyes. Focus, she told herself. You've got a job to do.

Carefully, the hobbit made her way down the stairs and onto the gold itself. And she couldn't help the small grin that spread across her face at the sheer amount of precious gems and gold beyond measure and count. It was beautiful she had to admit. And then, slowly, her mind caught up with her heart and she blinked rapidly to rid herself of the fog in her mind. Would it hurt if she stole away just one gem? Would her companions notice if just one item was missing from the vastness of the hall?

Stop! Donnabelle commanded herself. Arkenstone. Must find the Arkenstone. "Large white jewel. Very helpful."

Her eyes scanned the room once again and then looked back toward the exit from which she'd come. If Smaug were in this vast chamber, she wouldn't know it. And she had no way of concealing herself if he did wake him up. Donnabelle moved further into the chamber and there! Surely, that was the Arkenstone. It was beautiful, shining with an inner light. It was almost as if it was made of starlight. She began moving toward it and then stopped. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the mountain of gold change and move.

Oh dear, the dragon was behind her. She could feel the bed shifting as Smaug slithered awake behind her. Turning, she felt her eyes widen as the giant red head lift up over her and it snarled.

She gulped at the sheer size of it, and wished again that she hadn't sent the ring off with Beorn!

"Well, thief, I know you're in here," the dragon began. And then he fixed one gleaming red eye on Donnabelle and he stopped. Smaug wasn't quite sure what to make of the small, quivering creature that had dared make its way into his lair. "What are you?" Smaug asked. "You are not a dwarf – no one knows the taste or smell of dwarf better than me."

"I'm nobody really," Donnabelle returned, taking a crawling step backwards. It so happened that it also took her a step closer to the Arkenstone.

"Oh, I highly doubt that." Smaug lowered his head so it was level with Donnabelle's head (or whole body really, it was that big). "What is this smell?" the dragon hissed, tasting the air with his tongue. "You are drenched in the smell of filthy dwarves, yet you are not one of them. What brings a dwarf that is not a dwarf into my halls?

"I only wanted to see if the tales are true, O Smaug the Magnificent," the hobbit responded. "Surely the tales and songs fall short of your enormity."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Of course not, Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of all Calamities," she snorted.

"Something amusing?"

"Well, Smaug the Tyrannical, you are not the first to tell me so. I learnt that lesson the hard way when dealing with others much larger than myself."

Smaug, it seemed, could look smug at the names Donnabelle was calling him. "Do tell, thief."

"You asked me what I am. I will tell you. I come from the very bottom of society, and therefore, people overlook me." The dragon, if it had eyebrows, would have raised one to indicate his boredom. Donnabelle saw that and gave the massive beast a brief submissive nod. "I come from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me. I come from Underhill and over hills my path has led. I was once a slave, yet kings owe me their allegiance. Through the air, I am she that hides in plain sight."

"So I can well believe," said Smaug, "but that is hardly your usual journey or usual name."

"I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number."

"Lovely titles!" sneered the dragon. "But lucky numbers don't always come off. Or the allegiance of kings."

"Oh, no. I quite agree, O Smaug the Great!" the hobbit said cheerfully. "I would not have left my master's house otherwise."

The dragon stepped backward at the venom coming from the small, unknown creature. "What are you exactly?"

"I am a friend of bears and a guest of eagles. I am a chameleon and a daughter of kings."

Then, the dragon realised that the child before him was more than just a daughter. He could practically smell it dripping off her. "And you carry something more precious to you than gold. I wonder, do those filthy usurping dwarves know of what you carry?" Smaug snorted, not waiting for the hobbit to answer. She doubted she could anyway. "I think not. They would not have sent you in here if they knew. But no matter. You will be the first of your companions to die."

Donnabelle froze, and somehow, her hand landed on the Arkenstone itself. It didn't seem important anymore – nor did the rest of the gold, silver and gems. Was what Smaug said truly real? Was she carrying something far more precious than gold? She was brought back to reality when Smaug next spoke.

"Don't think those lovely titles deters me from knowing where you've recently come from. For I know you must have stopped in Lake-town. You and your companions would have needed fresh supplies and that is the only place that is close enough to do that."

The little hobbit's eyes darted down to the frosted, star-lit gem and she began to fight back her terror at facing a fire-breathing worm. "Who said anything about… what was it? Lake-town? Isn't that a town in the world of men? You must realise, O Smaug the inaccessibly wealthy, that the world of men were the ones that caused my heartache to begin with!"

That caught the dragon's attention. "Oh? Do tell!"

"That is the reason I am here, O Smaug the Mighty. For revenge on those that have wronged me." And you, O Smaug, are at the top of the list!

"Very clever. And what have those miserable Lake-men done to you?"

The hobbit shrugged. "Other than make me relive my brother's death? Not a lot, but it was men who first sold me into slavery, and it was men who took my brother from me."

"So what is to stop me from destroying the town?"

Donnabelle pushed herself up and set her jaw. "Nothing. Go ahead and do just that."

That got Smaug to pause and inquisitively, he turned his head sideways to glance at the small creature side on. Did the little one really want him to destroy the town on the lake?

"I mean," the hobbit continued, "it's not like I can stop you, O Smaug the Frightful. What am I in the grand scheme of things? After all, I am just a small, fragile hobbit in the wide world with not much to offer." Her eyes darted around, searching for the passageway she came through. She winced slightly as she realised the dragon was situated between her and her escape route back to her dwarves.

Smaug thought about it and knew the little thing was right. It wasn't as if she could stop him, or even really harm him. "What do you get from all of this?"

"Nothing, but to gaze one last time on your magnificence, and to prove the tales false."

"What tales?"

"That a dragon's underside is softer and more vulnerable than the rest of their hide," Donnabelle explained. "Perhaps that is why you are rarely seen out of this cave? Are you afraid that you may be killed if you bared your chest?" Smaug puffed out his chest and then spread his wings slightly so he could glide over Donnabelle's head. There wasn't really enough room in the massive chamber for him to do that, but it gave the hobbit an opportunity to find the missing scale Bain had talked about. "Dazzlingly brilliant!" praised the hobbit. "What a marvellous glittering waistcoat you have!"

Smaug tilted his head to the side and looked down at the small woman from one eye. "Don't think flattery will save you, thief. I know where every gem, every piece of gold is within this chamber. And I will not part with a single coin. Not one piece of it."

"I don't know what you mean."

"The Arkenstone. That usurper Oakenshield sent you in here for it," the dragon snapped.

"Oakenshield?" Donnabelle spluttered. "Who's Oakenshield?"

"You know very well who Oakenshield is. I can smell him on you!" Smaug pulled back and twisted his long serpentine head to the other side. Softer, the dragon hissed, "I am almost tempted to let you take it, if only to see Oakenshield suffer: watch it destroy him. Watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" the hobbit protested, but was afraid of the truth the dragon was speaking to her.

"Don't try to fool me! His scent all over you. You have been used, thief. You were only ever a means to an end. The coward Oakenshield has weighed the value of your life and found it worth nothing." The dragon paused, thinking it over before he gave the small hobbit a sinister grin. If a dragon could grin, that was. "But it does not matter. I think our little game ends here. So tell me, thief, how do you choose to die?"

Donnabelle blinked as she allowed the words to wash over her. Suddenly, she felt her breath hitch in her throat and quickly darted behind a pillar. Smaug followed her but stopped mere inches from her hidden form. The hobbit was confused slightly until she remembered all the training she'd done with Frérin growing up. The two of them discovered, quite by accident while she practiced her changeling abilities, that Donnabelle had a way of bending light beams around her. It was similar to a way a silver mirror worked, or a very still pool of water. At least, that's what Frérin had told her when she'd successfully used it the first time.

When Frérin first discovered Donnabelle's ability to mimic just about anybody, he had taken it upon himself to teach her to defend herself, as well as help her learn to control her emotions. For he realised that if her emotions were all over the place, then the hobbit couldn't control her changeling gifts and she would lose the element of surprise. Along the way, both of them had discovered that she could fade into the background, of a sort. It had been a remarkably useful ability for a slave to have, and it had gone a long way to help them secure their freedom when she'd been twenty.

But using her 'reflective' skills took a lot out of her, so she rarely used it. She guessed being faced by the terrifying beast of Smaug caused her to instinctively use it. And she was glad she was no longer faced with either Smaug burning her or eating her. She slipped away toward the platform and doorway she first came through. The dragon snapped at the air she'd just vacated and followed her movements with his ears: though she was semi-invisible, Donnabelle knew she still interacted with the environment around her.

The terrified hobbit made a beeline for the passage she initially came through, only to be stopped by Thorin catching her. She buried her face in his chest and took in a heaving breath. But the dwarf was soon forcing her to step backward to look him in the eye.

"Did you find it?" the exiled king demanded.

Donnabelle frowned. Did she find what? "Dragon," she breathed out when she could form a coherent thought. Her mind was numb.

"The Arkenstone," Thorin clarified.

"Dragon's coming," the burglar repeated. The dark-haired dwarf looked annoyed at the response from her before he let his eyes wander over the vastness of the treasure chamber. And then he caught sight of Smaug looming over the horde of Thrór, staring in their direction.

The dwarven king felt his heart constrict. There was the monster responsible for so many of his kin's deaths. Balin, Dwalin and the rest of the dwarves came running down the passageway and into the line of sight of the dragon and dragon horde.

In between the company of dwarves and the dragon with his treasure stood one lone little figure, trying her best to get her head around the sly words of the dragon: was she really just a tool to the company, and especially to Thorin? Was she only brought on the journey as a means to an end?

THTHTHTH

Balin and Donnabelle were the first out of the mountain after the dragon let them escape to one of the western halls. Smaug had been furious at the dwarves for invading his lair, but he'd been manic at the men of the Lake for thinking they could help the dwarves steal from him.

The two of them, the hobbit and the advisor, made it as far as Ravenhill before they stopped at the horror they saw on the lake. The other dwarves were not far behind them. Lake-town was aflame as the dragon laid waste to the once mighty city of Esgaroth. Fíli and Kíli couldn't sit and watch the destruction; neither could many of the company. It seemed only Balin, Óin, Dwalin and Donnabelle had the stomach to bear witness to the desolation that fire brought upon the world of men.

Thorin himself stood apart from the others. He was further down the hill, looking back toward the main gates of Erebor. The dwarven king hadn't even bothered making his way up to the top of Ravenhill with his brethren.

"Poor souls," Balin whispered as he finally looked away. There was only so much destruction the old dwarf could take.

Donnabelle would have agreed if she had not been so scarred by men. The only people in Lake-town that she cared about were Bard and his children. Her eyes were fixed on the moving figure flying above the town and she frowned. Something happened. She was sure of it. But if someone were to ask her what, she wouldn't have been able to say. Her eyes stayed trained on the small, far away, figure of Smaug. And she couldn't help moving closer to the edge of Ravenhill when she saw the dragon fall.

"It fell," she breathed. Her voice surprised her. She hadn't expected to say anything at all. "I saw it," she added and then felt the stares of twelve dwarves on her. Turning to face them, the hobbit declared, "Smaug is dead."

Glóin was the first to stand to his feet at the hobbit's declaration. He searched the skies over Lake-town for any sign of the beast. "I do believe she is right!"

"Which means…" Donnabelle started and then trailed. Her attention was drawn back out to the lake. "If there are any survivors, they may decide to head this way."

The dwarves (and Donnabelle's) attention was drawn to the lone figure of Thorin below them. He had been the only one of the company who hadn't witnessed the destruction of Lake-town. The dark-haired king set his jaw at the news of Smaug's death before he made his way back down the hill toward the gates of Erebor. Slowly, the other dwarves followed after him, leaving Donnabelle to sadly follow them with her eyes.

She hadn't noticed that Bifur stayed with her until he spoke up. ~My queen?~ he asked. ~Is everything okay?~

Donnabelle turned slightly to the toymaker. She nodded slowly as though things were dandy, but deep in her heart, she knew they weren't. Bifur blinked slowly and returned the nod. He picked up that things weren't okay with his sister and queen and she didn't want to speak of it. Smiling softly at her, Bifur turned and followed after his cousins, leaving the hobbit on Ravenhill by herself. Donnabelle watched the injured dwarf follow after the rest of the company.

Once she was sure she was alone, she gingerly placed a hand on her stomach and her eyes were drawn once more to the lake. Was it true?

She shook her head and dropped her hand. No. The dragon lied to her. Like he had lied to her about being a means to an end. The only precious thing she carried was the Arkenstone, nothing more. Yet… Donnabelle couldn't stop the doubts rising in her mind. Thorin had acted as if he had loved her before they reached Lake-town, and even in the few days leading up to their departure from the world of men. But since they'd reached the foothills of Erebor, it was as if he was another person. As if he no longer loved her and was just focused on a cold stone that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Donnabelle shook her head again, trying to rid herself of that image. Trying to forget the words that Smaug had softly spoken to her. But in her heart of hearts, she knew that she wouldn't. What Smaug had said, and what Thorin had done, was too reminiscent of what her master had done. All she had been was a means to a profitable end for her master (one that thankfully Frérin had stopped him exploiting). What was she really to Thorin? Was she really just a means of claiming the Arkenstone? Was she doomed to let people in that would ultimately hurt her, and eventually toss her aside once her job was done?

She sniffed and furiously wiped her eyes. She knew that she didn't have the answers, and probably wouldn't ever have the answers. And she realised a little too late she was left alone on Ravenhill. None of the dwarves (save perhaps Bifur) realised she hadn't followed them. For the second time in her life, Donnabelle felt so very small and alone in a very wide world.