Ten: The Heart of the Mountain

Llorabell stood back as the company slowly, reverently walked through the hidden door. All of them were tracing fingers over the stone walls. Murmurs of awe rang through the otherwise silent hall and balcony.

The dwarvish song had ended as soon as Thorin had inserted the key. The stone was quiet. Llorabell could convince herself that the stones silence was because of the enormity of the situation: Just for a second. It felt right, thinking the stone appreciated the moment. But it was also unlikely.

Finally Llorabell followed the company. The hall had no decoration. Only a single carving was present above the door. Dwarven runes were carved above a design of what looked like a small shining, miss-shappened sun over some type of structure. After all the talk of gold and wealth beyond imagining, this was unexpected.

"Can I know what it says?" Llorabell asked, deciding against voicing her thoughts.

Glóin responded. His voice was as reverent as his movement, with a hint of shocked disbelief, ''Here in lies the seventh kingdom of Durin's folk. May the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defense of this home."

"Heart of the mountain?" asked Llorabell, a nagging feeling prickled at the back of her mind.

"Aye the Arkenstone," explained Balin.

Llorabell looked back at Balin."What's that?"

"That," said Thorin from deeper in the hallway, "Master Burglar, is why you are here."

She stared at the dwarf king. Her gut dropped. It was time for her to fulfill her contract.

Balin explained as the hobbit stood helplessly staring at the company. "It's a large white jewel. There is nothing else like it; you'll know it when you see it."

"Right." muttered Llorabell. She continued to stare at the dwarrow. Nerves ran through her as she tried to make herself turn and head out. There was nothing left to do. "I best be going, then."

Silence stretch for a moment longer. Then she took a breath to steady herself and gave everyone a nod; she didn't know whether it was a goodbye or letting them know she would succeed. It didn't matter, one would be true soon enough.

"For Mahal's sakes!" growled Nori as he pushed to the front, "If ya aren't going to, then I will."

"What?" asked Llorabell. The thief didn't think she was backing out? Right?

Nori stomped up to her and, tilting her head up, stated bluntly, "For good luck." Then his lips molded onto her's and the little hobbit lass found her mind blank.

Some part of her was aware as Nori slid a hand to the back of her head and tilted her head back to deepen the kiss even more. Most of her was still unsuccessfully trying to understand what was happening.

A tongue darted across her slack lips and delved in. The tongue rubbed over her own. It traced a pattern against the roof of her mouth, sending pleasant sparks and tingles through her. The lips were pressed bruisingly to hers.

Then, quite suddenly, Nori was gone. A loud smack rang through the hall. It took the hobbit another moment to understand what was happening.

Dwalin was restraining Fíli. His arms were locked under each arm, allowing the warrior to lift the prince off the ground. Kíli was being restrained by Glóin in a similar fashion. Thorin was on the verge of a lecture, if his scowl directed at Fíli was any indication. Balin was standing to the side looking disappointedly at his future king.

Dori was nearly strangling Nori with how tightly the silver haired dwarf was clenching his brother's tunic as he yelled in khuzdul at the thief. Nori was somehow scowling back at his brother while a side of his jaw and cheek was darkening to a nasty purple. The rest were all standing in uncomfortable silence, though a few seemed more amused than uncomfortable.

In the second she had taken it all in, she concluded that she really didn't want to know. Either Fíli had attacked Nori or Dori had. If it had been and still was Dori, she didn't understand why Fíli and Kíli were being restrained.

If it had been Fíli-It had been Dori. It was clearly Dori.

She did not want to deal with this. Not now. The burglar fled down the hall as her mind jumped back to why the princes would need to be restrained. She tried to squash the question; she didn't want to know. Now was not the time to wonder. The hobbit kept running, trying to flee the question and what the answer would bring.

Golden light filled her sight and the hobbit stumbled to a halt just inside the treasury. Mounds of gold, hills of treasure filled her sight. Her thoughts scattered as a new question sprang forward. How was she supposed to find a jewel in all of it?

Then another question snapped through her, forcing her to instinctively dive down to her knees. Where was the dragon?

Her heart pounded against her chest. She felt like throwing up. What idiot ran into a dragon lair?

Instinct had her stay perfectly still for a few moments longer. When she didn't become a dragon snack or a pile of ash, Llorabell forced herself to slowly stand.

She could see no dragon.

"He's not home," she whispered nervously, "Not home. That's good. Good. Good."

The hobbit stared out at the treasure for a few minutes. She had no idea where to start. Finally Llorabell slowly walked down into the closest pile.

She could see five different jewels she'd consider white. The burglar carefully knelt and picked up the closest one. Lifting it up the golden light turned the cut rock transparent. Was that considered white? Or... Llorabell picked up another rock to compare. The light revealed the faintest blue in its depths. Was this considered white enough?

Llorabell huffed and dropped one of the rocks to the side. A cascade of coin tinkled loudly as the rock slid down the pile of treasure. She hissed in horror, "Shush. Shush."

Her heart pounded in her chest, thudding in her ears. The sounds of the coins echoed out before dying. No other sound was heard.

Llorabell stared out over the huge room. There was still no sign of the dragon but she could also not see the end to the treasure. It went on and on, beyond her sight.

The burglar looked down at the stone in her hand. "A large white jewel." She looked back up at the never ending piles of gold. "Very helpful."

Llorabell slowly and carefully made her way across and over the first pile. She might as well get an idea of the extent of her search while keeping an eye out for this white jewel. At the top of the first pile revealed nothing helpful. The treasure was still piled beyond her sight.

There were even higher piles then the one she had climbed. Shaking her head at the stupidity of this, the hobbit headed to the next highest pile. The vantage point might reveal the Arkenstone. The sooner she found it, the less likely she was going to be roasted.

As she climbed, the hobbit periodically picked up some treasure to look below. The hobbit was climbing a mountain of gold. The stone could be underneath anything. She'd be foolish not digging a little.

Llorabell picked up a golden goblet with that thought in mind. Gold cascaded down. It was like a terrible chain reaction similar to mudslides during spring by the Brandywine river. At the end, gold crumbled away to reveal blue and red scales.

Her heart dropped and her mind went blank. Then terror shot through her. A burst of air exploded out, revealing a nostril as gold flew across the room from the force of the air. She stumble backward. A golden, glowing eye slowly blinked open.

Her mind finally started working with a single thought running through her. She needed to hide. The earthen song for going unseen fell from her lips as the dragon rose. Her voice stuttered a few words out as the enormous, fire breathing monster stood on four legs. She was just twice the size of its eyes.

The dragon sniffed the air and slowly turned towards her. Golden light, like the treasure around her, seemed to radiate from the dragon: particularly from his eyes. It was alluring. She could get lost staring into the golden glow.

She pinched herself. She couldn't stop singing. It would mean death. Llorabell continued even though part of her knew it wasn't working. The dragon knew she was here. Smaug opened his mouth, revealing teeth longer than she was tall.

"Well thief," hissed the dragon, "I smell you. I feel your breath. Yet I don't see you. Where are you?"

His golden eyes swiveled back and forth over the area Llorabell stood trembling. She continued the hiding song with more confidence. It was working, to some extent. She had a chance at living.

"Where are you?"

She needed to leave. Llorabell slowly took a step back, then another and another. The treasure at her feet moved with every step.

Smaug tilted his head in her direction. "Your breath isn't of terror. Yet it isn't regular. Little thief, do you speak without being heard?"

Llorabell stumbled back over some large treasure, nearly missing one of the words to the song. The hobbit glanced behind her. A set of pillars connected to a half buried walkway were a few feet below her. She ran, stumbling and sliding down the treasure while nearly screaming the words to the song hiding her.

She made it but the dragon had simply followed her, rumbling out in amusement, "Come, now. Do not hide. Come out." The dragon seemed to grin at her. "Come out and let me hear your voice. Let me hear this song you sing.''

The dragon shifted, its muzzle coming uncomfortably close. The smell of smoke and fire and sulfur filled her senses as dragon's breath washed over her. "Don't be shy."

The dragon's mouth glowed red and actual smoke spewed out. The dragon breathed it into her face. Llorabell struggled to continue singing as she breathed the smoke in. Her chest ached and itched. The smoke clawed at her throat telling her to cough. She was able to fight the urge for a whole stanza. Then air forced itself out of her in a desperate attempt to expel the smoke. Her song ended with the coughs.

"There you are, silent, singing thief."

Llorabell coughed helplessly. Tears slid down her face. Finally she gasped out as the dragon watched her in amusement. "I am no thief...oh Smaug. I caame–" She gasped between words. "–came to see your magnificence for I had-d not believed the old tales."

Everyone knew the stories of dragon vanity. It was nearly as well known as their greed. She hoped the stories hadn't been exaggerating. She needed a moment to catch her breath.

He snorted in amusement but rose up so she could see his entire form, freeing his wings out and all. The entirety of his underside glittered with treasure, protecting his soft underside. She could see only one area that did not glitter. He was truly magnificent.

"Do you believe them now?" purred Smaug, pleased by her reaction.

"Oh, yes-s. The tales fall utterly short of your enormity, oh Smaug, the stu-stupendous."

"Do you think flattery will keep you alive?" hissed the dragon. Amusement continued to color his voice and he seemed to almost laugh at her as she gave a desperate denial. The dragon lowered back down, shifting the treasure surrounding them. "Indeed. You seem familiar with my name but I don't recall smelling your kind before. Who are you and where do you come from, if I may ask?"

Everything in her screamed to run but there was nowhere to go. Going back would lead him to the company. She would have to distract him until she found a way to safely flee. "I-I-I'm from under the hill."

"Underhill?"

Llorabell nodded. "Oh yes, and under hills and over hills my path has led. And, and I am speaker of trees and whisper of stone. Spiders fear my sting.''

The dragon leaned closer to her. "Impressive, what else do you claim to be?"

"I-I am one who goes unseen. I'm a singer of unheard songs."

"Lovely titles." Smaug tilted his head like a snake. "And what about your little dwarf friends? Where are they hiding?"

"Dw-Dwa-Dwarfs?" Llorabell stuttered out, a number of dwarven word she was very certain were curses rang through her mind, "No, no dwarfs her-''

"I know the smell and taste of Dwarf. You stink of them." Smaug rose and turned away, towards the entrance she had come through. "Now where do they hide? Do they wait outside while you come to do their dirty work?"

"W-wait!" gasped the little hobbit, "Did you not want to hear a song?"

Smaug paused before turning back towards her, chuckling. "Little thief wishes to sing?" Smaug settled down facing her, his tail wrapped around his four feet like a cat's tail. His golden eyes were turned down to her. "Very well, entertain me. If you sing well thief, I will kill you last."

Llorabell began singing the first song to come to mind that wouldn't hide her. Smaug would simply burn her if she tried to hide. She still had no opening to flee and he would go after the dwarves. So she closed her eyes, half expecting to be incinerated any second, and sang the lightening song.

She sang it twice over before she noticed another voice and then another and another join. Llorabell heard the sharp intake of breath from the dragon. "Oh this is a surprise. Perhaps I will keep you for a time."

Llorabell opened her eyes to find many of the stones surrounding her were glowing brilliant multi-colored light. It was like a rainbow. She looked up at Smaug as she sang. The dragon stared down at her with wide, glazed glowing eyes. More stones slowly joined in the song and Smaug relaxed, curling up around her.

On the fourth rendition of the song, movement behind Smaug caught her attention. The company were watching her, weapons drawn. They were too far away to see their expressions but a familiar silver light glowed from Fíli. It had to be the wedding bead.

One of the dwarves accidentally hit something as a crash rang through the room. Smaug snapped towards the sound with a violent snarl. His snarl grew at the sight of dwarves. Acid spilled from his snarling lips. "Dwarves. Durin's blood."

Smaug rose and faced the company head on. "I knew this day would come! Dwarves come to take my gold — here to steal the Arkenstone! Dare enter my mountain and interrupt." The dragon snarled, his mouth slowly lighting up with a red glow. "You all will burn."

The burglar saw her chance to flee and took it. But she didn't get far before Smang grabbed her up. The dwarves cries of horror roared in the background as Smaug purred, "Oh no. My little songbird mustn't leave."

The dragon set Llorabell onto the top of a broken pillar. Smaug turned back to the company. "Perhaps the one you smell like will be kept. You can procreate together, can't you?" He stomped towards the dwarves. An arrow bounced harmlessly off his armored chest. "Another songbird for when you grow old. Yes a dwarf shall live for now...if he avoids my flames."

Llorabell watched the company flee into the mountain, dragon fire chasing them. The great serpent slithered after. He was almost silent in his movements as he, once again, reminded Llorabell of a cat. This time Smaug was playing with his prey.

The hobbit clung helplessly to the top of the broken pillar wishing she was with the company. She should be. The little hobbit lass searched around. She would be with them. As soon as she got down.

Somehow.

Llorabell laid onto her stomach and leaned over the pillar, firmly squashing the faint panic at the sharp drop — there wasn't a dwarf around to save her this time. The pillar had ornate carvings. They were deep and large enough that she should be able to get a grip on them and climb down.

The blond hesitated for a moment before slowly sliding back across her stomach. Her feet dangled and her hands grasped the pillar's broken top. The mantra of "Don't slip" repeated through her mind.

Her booted feet scraped against the carvings. One foot found purchase. The other didn't.

Llorabell growled in frustration. "Damned boots." She pushed up with the one foot only for it to lose its hold. She jerked. Her weight pulled her down and her jaw almost slammed into the pillar's top as her head slid over the edge. The hobbit barely held on. Her fingers dug into the broken stone. Her feet slid across the pillar's surface uselessly.

A sense of déjà vu rushed through her.

She was going to fall.

The burglar's arms strained as she tried to pull herself up. Her fingers hurt digging into the stone. It wasn't enough. She didn't have the strength.

She fell.

Her legs hit the pile of treasure first. A sharp pain stabbed up from one. Then she fell backwards and her head hit something, sending a ringing through her ears. Llorabell didn't have time to react, she might have even lost consciousness for a second, as the hobbit found herself rolling down the hill of treasure. She couldn't remember when she had started rolling. The hobbit didn't have time to wonder.

She rolled over and into numerous items with hard edges. Much of the hill she was rolling down joined her in sliding down the pile. By the time the hobbit stopped, her body was covered in bruises and aches, and she found herself partly buried in treasure.

Llorabell laid dazed. She couldn't focus on anything. There was something she needed to do but she couldn't remember.

The room shook as a great roar echoed. The hobbit quickly sat up as another roar from the dragon she had somehow forgotten about rang out. Nausea rolled through her. Llorabell tried to ignore the feeling. She needed to get to the others.

The hobbit pulled herself out of the treasure and stood. A sharp ache flared from her ankle. Llorabell grimaced but, at the sound of another roar, ignored the pain.

The roll down the hill of treasure had gotten her closer to the exit the dwarrow had fled down. Llorabell limped quickly over to it. She took a few steps across the walkway before her mind registered the heat. The hobbit stumbled away, her feet hurting.

She dropped down onto some stairs. Heat radiated off the floor in front of her. Smaug had breathed fire earlier. The floor and walls were still shockingly hot.

Llorabell took another moment to collect her thoughts before she quickly pulled her boots off. The hard leather soles of the shoes were burned and slightly melted. Her feet's soles were red and irritated. The hurt ankle was darkening with a bruise.

Another dragon roar, further away this time, echoed into the treasury. There had to be something she could do. The little hobbit lass bit her lip as the nausea, the ringing in her ears, the pain from her feet, and the aches from all the bruises from the fall brought frustrated tears to her eyes.

After a few deep breaths, Llorabell forced herself back up. The only way out of the treasury she knew of was through the hidden door. She'd go there and see if there was anything in Óin's packs that would help her focus and dull the pain. Then she'd find a way to the others.

Turning back to the hall she had come from, a bright white light stung her eyes. Llorabell frowned and squinted. Under normal circumstances the light would not be so painful. It didn't consume the room but felt like a mini sun to her eyes. Her head throbbed.

Going closer to the light, she found a brilliant large white stone was glowing. She couldn't hear it singing the lighting song. The hobbit struggled up the hill to the glowing stone. Standing right in front of it didn't reveal any singing. It was silent.

Llorabell picked up the stone. It was of purest white. It was glowing but not because of the lighting song. The stone was large and finally cut with what appeared to be thousands of triangular faces to enhance the glow.

"You're the Arkenstone," she groaned out as her head began to throb in earnest. Her eyes watered from staring at the jewel but the ache from staring at too bright and sharp a light began to lessen. She felt terrible. Llorabell huffed out, "I guess you'll come with me."

With that, the hobbit limped up and out of the treasury. The hall darkened as she left the golden glow of gold behind but the Arkenstone's light illuminated the silent carved stone walls.

It reminded Llorabell of her bead — Fíli's bead for his One. Yet there was something off putting. It glowed with no song. Why would it do that?

Another light slowly grew as she walked through the hall, hugging the precious stone to her chest. Moonlight filtered in through the open doorway. She could see the company's gear piled up near the hidden stairs. Llorabell sighed with relief. Óin would have something she'd be able to use.

The ground shook underneath her. Llorabell stumbled out of the doorway as a great cracking sound filled the air. Another crack rang out, this time with a roar. The sounds were coming from below her. The hobbit stumbled over to the edge of the hidden balcony in time to see the great sealed doors of Erebor exploud outward.

Smaug stomped out with a raging scream, "Revenge! Revenge! I'll show you revenge dwarf! The men will burn! The elves will burn! And then you will burn!"

"No," gasped Llorabell, "Stop. Stop!" The hobbit dropped to her knees as Smaug slithered out and spread its wings. "Mâin! Mâin!"

"Mâin!"

Llorabell jerked in surprise as the jewel in her hand screamed "stop" in the earthen tongue. Agony rang from its voice. It vibrated through Llorabell. Her throbbing head felt like it was splitting in two. Pain and nausea raged through her as the jewel screamed.

"Mâin!"

Stone around her roared in response. Llorabell could make out one word through her throbbing head, Iinda. Heart.

The mountain shook. The dragon turned towards her. Llorabell shuddered as she realized she was screaming alongside the jewel. Her voice wasn't her own.

"Mâin!"

The dragon snarled something at her but she could only hear the jewels screams and the stones' roar. It's snarl twisted to surprise as a stone axe swung down at him.

One of the stone statues had moved.

Smaug twisted sharply away from the statue. The dragon doubled back again as he realized his back was to the other statue. He needn't have bothered as that one didn't move but it did give the moving statue a chance to stretch out and grab its axe. Statue and dragon clashed.

Llorabell shuddered at the sounds ringing around her and through her. Her mind barely registering that the statue's lower half didn't move. She was going to faint. Her hands spasmed around the stone. She was going to be sick. Yet she continued to scream along side the Arkenstone.

Smaug realized the restrictions of the stone with a sudden laugh. The dragon took sharply to the air. It's mouth glowed with building heat. He was going to spew fire down onto the statue. She was going to burn with it.

Llorabell tried to rise but she couldn't get her feet to move. She really was going to die. The hobbit lass croaked out even as flashes of the Shire, of her family, the adventure, each company member, of Fíli filled her thoughts, "Mâin."

The stone axe of the other statue slammed into Smaug's chest. The dragon dropped and the axe shattered onto the ground. After a moment, Smaug pushed himself up and out of the pile of rubble with a raging scream.

Llorabell glanced over at the statue the axe had come from. The once immovable statue had only moved its axe up in a swing to toss its blade at the flying serpent. The rest of the statue continued to stay perfectly still. Its axe arm was now stuck in the motion of an upward swing.

The more mobile dwarven statue slowly rose and took an awkward step forward, leaving a whole section of its lower leg behind. The statue jerked as its other leg didn't budge. Smaug lunged forward and the two clashed again.

Axe and claws fought for dominance. The dragon's powerful back legs flexed. The dragon lifted the statue up and back. The statue slammed into the wall. It's axe sliced into the mountain side.

Llorabell's sight became foggy as the dwarven statue yanked its axe free. The axe blade glowed oddly in the moonlight as if it was suddenly embedded with thousands of glowing Arkenstones. The blade went at the dragon at an odd angle. It's blade would not slice into the dragon. The end of it would awkwardly hit first, like a pick axe.

Smaug screamed for a short, harsh moment. Blood gushed out of its chest, where the sharp point of the blade had wedge in. What should have been a badly angled slice from the statue became Smaug's doom.

The world became silent. The Arkenstone slide out of Llorabell's hands and rolled across the balcony. Llorabell felt the fog fade from her mind and a crisp, sharp ache was left behind.

Then the dragon's corpse slide to the ground, its legs giving out. The dwarven statue crumbled as the scaled tail slammed against the awkwardly short, incomplete leg and any hope of climbing down from the hidden door went with it.

Llorabell sat trembling as she stared blankly ahead. She had just seen that. That had really happened.

She dragged her eyes from the destruction before her, turning to the glowing stone a few feet away. The Arkenstone winked at her. Llorabell suddenly jumped to her feet and fled to the gear, pulled her pack out, and ripped out one of her spare shirts - one that had once been Dwalin's or Glóin's or Nori's. She tossed the shirt over the Arkenstone and quickly wrapped it up. Then she stuffed the stone into her pack.

There was something wrong with that stone. She needed to show it to Gandalf. He'd know what to do.

Hobbittish:
Iinda - heart (there are multiple words that use a variation of heart combined with another word. This word would be edited, losing some letters etc when combined with other - hopefully that makes sense.)
mâin - stop