Thorin Oakenshield,
It has been a long time since we last spoke and, while I regret the time that has past, it was necessary. I bring news of my home; Bag End is under siege. Smaug has come, by what magyks and trickery, I do not know, but he is here and with me and alive. His body is human; he is a mere man, and a good sword would be the end of him, but I fear for what would happen should I fail. Therefore, I call for the aid you promised me long ago, should your oath still stand.

Please help me, Thorin. He frightens me and I do not know what he will do.
Your burglar,
Bilbo Baggins

Bilbo cursed his uselessness, slamming his fists own on his desk without real force and finally letting his shakes take over him. He quivered and trembled against the steadfastness of his desk, making it rattle against the wall and the floor, and he gasped for breaths through his terrified tears. He had been a fool to think he could domesticate the dragon enough for living civilly in his hobbit hole and he realized it more and more as fear tried to drown him.

He would never make it; Smaug would kill him before his letter ever reached them.

Bilbo raised his head from the desktop, staring at the sealed letter forlornly until a cool draft made him shiver and frown. Turning around, he saw his window, a round hole in the wall he'd always disregarded, but now it was his escape and his freedom and his future all in one circular section of his home.

Scrambling away from his desk and the small sprinkling of tears, Bilbo picked a warmer shirt and pants and tried not to feel squeamish about leaving without any real winter clothes; Bilbo deftly fitted himself through the window and crawled out on his elbows and belly through the snow. When he was finally free, he closed the window almost totally and stood up, already shivering in the cold of his back yard, and he set off for town with his letter clutched in one hand and tucked under his arm.

Wading through snowdrifts and over roads, Bilbo shivered and his teeth chattered by the time he finally made it close to town and realized he looked absolutely mad. He was in no way dressed for the weather and he looked in no way sane; how could he explain that his tall houseguest was actually the dragon from his previous adventure in a magic disguise? His quick pace slowed to a trudge, and then a halt, and Bilbo stared at the clouds of his own breath sorrowfully.

"What am I doing?" Bilbo asked himself, covering his face with one chilly hand. "I'm going to get laughed out of the Green Dragon like this..." He sat down, already too chilled and too sodden to care about the snow. "What do I do now?"

"Mr. Baggins?!" Suddenly Bilbo looked up and there was Lily Rumble, dark ribbons in her hair, and a basket over her arm that steamed gently in the cool January air. "What are you doing outside without a coat? It's absolutely freezing!"

"I was in a bit of a rush," Bilbo smiled, his face tight but his heart warmed by her kind concern. For once in what seemed like a long time someone was paying attention to his needs, and it felt even better than he remembered. "I had a bit of a disagreement with me-"

"Oh, your tall friend? What a shame!" Lily put a hand on Bilbo's arm consolingly in a way that made him jump. "I saw him out with you and you two seemed so close! What ever could have happened?"

"'Comfortable'?" Bilbo squeaked, shocked, and it took him a minute to formulate a good reply. "I was... intending to have you over, actually. I found a few things that would benefit from your skills, and I got some blackberries recently... I was thinking a pie would be a rather good thank you, seeing as how they are your favourite."

"And he disapproved?" Lily's smile became a frown and Bilbo's heart sank a little. "What a shame; he seemed like such a handsome man. Seems like a waste for a recluse to be so good-looking..." She sighed longingly. "I would have loved to make him some good Hobbiton clothes... that cloak of his is nearly a rag."

"And he'd benefit from some clothes of his own too." Bilbo muttered. "Maybe then he'd stop ruining my good shirts." Bilbo stood up stiffly, brushing at the snow clinging to his pants with numb hands, but Lily remained where she was with a thoughtful look on her face. "Lily?"

"Let's go, then." Lily's smile warmed Bilbo's frost-bitten hands. "I bet he's just lonely. I'll come and save your poor wardrobe, and I bet your tall friend will feel a little better."

"He's just fine." Bilbo insisted, but his mind turned to Smaug sooner or later and he wondered if it had only been fear he'd seen in the dragon-man's eyes. His mind wandered to that dead-end, to the expression on Smaug's face, and his stomach twisted.

"'THOSE MEN WITH THEIR SWORDS; BITING AND GNAWING AND HACKING WITH THEIR SWORDS AND THEIR AXES! DRAGON SLAYERS! FAME SEEKERS! BUNDLING THEMSEVLES INTO MY LAIR AND MY NEST AND TOOK WHAT WAS MINE!'"

Bilbo looked down at the snow, his mind working hard, and Lily's smile became more knowing in the time it took for him to look down and back.

"AND YOU... THE FEAR YOU SHOULD REEK OF IS THAT WHICH GIVES YOU COMFORT! YOUR VERY HEART SINGS A LITANY OF FEARS AND DOUBTS, AND THE ONE TO WHICH YOU CLING HAS BETRAYED YOU, AND YET YOU RUN FROM ME! YOU RUN FROM THAT WHICH YOU ALREADY KNOW, LITTLE THIEFLING! WHAT FEAR SHOULD YOU SHOW ME?"

"What do you say?" Lily ducked her head and stared up at Bilbo through her lashes. "Let's go... I bet he's lonely so far from home. There aren't many big folk in these parts, and I'm sure he was just lashing out." Lily sounded so rational to him suddenly; everything she was saying made sense, and it made Bilbo's throat close even tighter at the idea that she was right without even knowing it.

Smaug was alone. As a dragon, at least there had been gold and power to sate him, but as a human Smaug was so very, entirely alone. He was afraid of the empty, the mundane, and he had lost everything; Bilbo's lack on sympathy certainly hadn't helped him either.

Bilbo nearly smacked himself across the face at his own stupidity.

"How could I have missed it?" He asked. "How could I not have noticed? Of course he's lonely! I should have understood sooner!"

"Hindsight is clear as a summer sky, Mr. Baggins," Lily shifted her basket and held out a hand to him comfortingly. "We should get you back inside before you freeze solid. I'm sure your friend would much prefer your company over that of an icicle."

Bilbo shook his head stubbornly, putting his hands under his arms for even the barest shred of warmth. "No... I have to mail a letter right away." He didn't want to leave the dragon alone with Bag End or Lily, but Thorin and Gandalf would know what to do with his 'tall friend', as Lily called him.

"But what about your tall friend?" Lily pressed him hard, taking hold of his shoulder to try and squeeze the severity into him with her weak grip. "Surely, he is more important than some silly letter!"

Bilbo went to reply, but paused for thought. "The letter is about him..." He told her honestly, "And it's very, very important." Bilbo turned away and smiled to himself. "Your idea is excellent, Lily; how does the day after tomorrow sound?"

Lily's face lit up and Bilbo couldn't help but feel proud. Maybe he could have a chance with her, after all. "Splendid. The day after tomorrow... around tea time?"

"I'll have a pot ready." Bilbo promised, and soon they had parted ways looking quite happy. Bilbo took his time getting to town –or as much as he could with his limbs growing so numb- and when he entered the Green Dragon it was like a slap to his everything with red-hot iron.

"Why, Bilbo!" Chided the innkeeper. "You're frozen to the bone; sit by the fire!" The jolly man had known Bilbo since they'd come of age, and he wouldn't take Bilbo's 'no's for an answer. In fact, by the time Bilbo was left alone he was the proud owner of a hot cup of chamomile tea and a warm meat pie- on the house, of course.

"Will," Bilbo chuckled, biting into the little pie with relish. "you're too good to me."

"Nonsense!" Bilbo looked up as the kitchen master –and William's wife, mind you- came bustling out of the kitchen with the rosiest cheeks and an apron on. "Bilbo, you rascal, you stay cooped up all by yourself with no wife to look after you! The least I can do is make my good-for-nothing husband here show you some good Green Dragon hospitality! Eat up, love, and get warm again."

"Don't baby him, Molly," Bilbo couldn't help but chuckle when he innkeeper and his lovely cook shared a quick kiss. "Bilbo's a fine hobbit. If he's ever in want of a lady, I'll shave my feet!" To make his point, William Proudfoot threw one shaggy foot high and the couple laughed at the mass of thick curls for a little while, and then they were back to business and Bilbo had his silence.

And his letter.

Taking it out of his jacket, Bilbo regarded the letter nervously and wondered if he shouldn't just march himself back home and leave it in the fire. It certainly wouldn't be a strange occurrence; if he brunt the letter, it would be like he had never written it.

However, Smaug would not be so easily disposed of. The threat of a dragon in his smials was too big to ignore, literally- how could he trust Smaug not to grow cross with him and melt the flesh right off his frail little hobbit bones?

Feeling a little faint, as he had when Bofur described it long ago, Bilbo signaled one of the young hobbits working for the Proudfoots and gave them the letter quietly.

"Where is it headed, sir?" The girl asked curiously, having heard stories about Mister Bilbo Baggins of Bag End.

Bilbo looked into the fire. "To the city under the Lonely Mountain." He waved away any other questions with a grunt, just the utterance of the name enough to bring back the images in full force.

The fine emerald stone, the rivers and mountains of gold, jewels and precious treasures in the deep, deep dark; the way Balin blew smoke rings with him after a good meal; Fili and Kili's identical good humors and constant teasing grins; Bifur's nonsensical grunts and hand signs. The look in Thorin's eyes when he-
Bilbo stood up suddenly, grim, and took his leave of the cheery inn with his tea gone and the little treat safely in his stomach.

He braced himself for the bitter cold, stuffing his hands back under his arms, and soon he was chilled to the bone and struggling through deep snow to reach his little bedroom window again and dig out an entrance for himself. He dug and dug, ignoring the sharp stinging in his hands until his fingers grew numb and a little tunnel had been made.

Pulling open the window, Bilbo scooted backwards until his rear was in the room and let go, falling to his floor with a 'thunk' and a small avalanche of snow behind him. Bilbo groaned, stiff and cold and so glad to be home, and couldn't bring himself to move until a cold breeze ate through him and his stomach gurgled ravenously.

Struggling to his feet and feeling ice cold, Bilbo strained to close his window and dust himself off, feeling the cloth against his skin only slightly. He grimaced as his fingers tingled, the pins and needles heralding a wave of burning and aching, and struggled out of his snow-soaked jacket and trousers. He threw on his robe, tying the belt tight, and shivered briefly as he crossed his room on frigid feet.

"I'm never doing something so Tookish again..." He muttered, rubbing his hands together and clenching his teeth against the prickling in his skin. "That was ridiculous!"

Throwing open his door, Bilbo stepped out into the hall, his gaze held high, and tripped over a big bump that was haunting his bedroom threshold silently. He cried out in surprise, falling forward, but suddenly Bilbo was face up and clutched in two strong arms.

"Thiefling!" Smaug's booming voice shocked the hobbit stiff after the muted quiet of the snow outside and the fear of attack from earlier. He squeaked wordlessly in reply, too frightened to struggle, and his feet left the ground under Smaug's power. No warning given, Bilbo was spun slightly and he clutched the dragon's shoulders tightly as he adjusted his grip on him and shifted his position. Smaug balanced him on his hip like a child –their size difference was enough for it to work comfortably-, a rumble building in his chest, and the hobbit spluttered wordlessly as he began to rub his cheeks against Bilbo's face and neck.

"L-Let go of me~" Bilbo shouted, struggling futilely. The man's grip was iron shackles and the little hobbit was no match for it. "Smaug! Put me down!" Bilbo's grip on his houseguest's shoulders slipped as they dropped their tense position and he grimaced as Smaug sniffled and snuffed against his skin noisily like he was some fresh-baked pie or pastry. However, despite his sniffing, Smaug seemed content with his abrasive assault on the hobbit's neck and left cheek.

Frustrated, Bilbo shoved at the dragon's cheek, catching a bit of his hair to try and hold him back, but the greasy strands slipped through his fingers until a tangle became a knot.

"Hold still!" Bilbo ordered, leaning as far as he could from his suddenly-affectionate guest. "Your hair is tangled!" Smaug kept pulling and tugging, a grimace growing on his face, and Bilbo fisted his hand and pulled hard to make a point to him. The curls under the rest tugged hard at the nape of his neck, making him freeze, and slowly Smaug shifted to allow Bilbo access t the knot.

He pressed his straight nose into the dips in Bilbo's collarbone, his face warm against the hobbit's cold, cold skin, and he sighed softly as Bilbo set to work with his hair. He engaged his other hand; carefully weaving the dirty curls in and out of one another until his fingers developed a rhythm, they slowly began to unwind under his nimble digits.

And Bilbo was having trouble concentrating with Smaug's hot breath tickling his neck and shoulder like it was.

"...I believe I was a tad excessive."

"Pardon me?!" Bilbo's fingers stumbled over one another at the sentence muffled by his throat. Smaug pulled away, seeming to think Bilbo hadn't heard him, but the hobbit quickly chided him back into position. With his face in Bilbo's neck, Smaug couldn't give him that intimidating stare.

"I... regret frightening you, thiefling." Smaug mumbled, his voice lower than Bilbo had thought possible for that booming sound. "You were no quarry to be hunted, and your fear gave me no pleasure."

"I-I-I should hope not!" Bilbo blurted, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. "That was a terrible thing to do, scaring me like that! I thought you were going to roast me alive and make me second breakfast!"

Smaug pulled away again, locking eyes with Bilbo determinedly, and the hobbit froze. Smaug was so close and their breaths mingled in the lack of space between them.
Smaug's forehead touched his own. "I would never."

Unable to think of anything to say, Bilbo ducked his head and blushed heavily.