Chapter Twenty-Five
A knock sounded on the door to Bard's house. Bard sighed and shuffled to the door. These last days had been eventful. What more could there be?
When he opened the door, there were four dwarves standing there. "No," the man hissed, trying to close the door on them. "I'm done with dwarves. Go away." The elf was still here, and he would not let the dwarves have her again.
"No! No! No!" the kind dwarf called, trying to stop Bard from closing the door on them. "Please. no one will help us!" Bard stopped putting force into closing the door as the dwarf said, "Kili's sick. He's very sick."
Bard hesitated. These dwarves had helped the elf, as little as Thorin would allow, while they had been here. They had been kind, tried not to be a bother. And, this Kili looked as if he might die. He had to help them.
"Come in," Bard sighed, moving aside so that the dwarves could carry their fellow in and lay him out on the table.
Hearing this commotion, Mirilas hurried in from the back of the house where she had been teaching Tilda the steps to a popular elven dance, urging Bard's children to stay out of the kitchen until she knew what was going on. She would not risk children.
The dwarves were already setting about cleaning Kili's wound when Mirilas entered, crossing the room to stand at Bard's side and ask in a whisper, "What are they doing here?!"
"That one is dying," Bard said as the dwarven healer fussed over his patient.
"Kili, his name is Kili," Mirilas said before letting out a huff and striding over to the dwarves. "Let me see the wound," she instructed. "I may be able to help him."
The kind dwarf and Kili's brother, the blonde dwarf, turned to stare at the elf while Bifur, the healer, continued his work. "You would help us?" Kili's brother asked with hope.
"I will do what I can," Mirilas answered, pushing his hands away from the wound. The elf hissed as she recognized the look of the wound. The flesh had turned black, which only happened with one type of poison. "I need athelas," Mirilas said, turning to Bifur, who shook his head with no recognition in his eyes. "Bard, do you know of athelas?" she asked, turning to the man.
"Athelas?" he asked, unfamiliar with the name.
"Kingsfoil?" Mirilas asked, switching to the other name for the plant.
"Aye! Kingsfoil! That should help!" Bifur exclaimed in recognition.
"It's a weed. We feed it to the pigs," Bard said, not understanding why they would want such a plant.
"Pigs?" the kind dwarf asked, "Right."
He was off at a run out the door with the elf behind him asking, "Have you seen pigs here?"
"Aye, I have," the dwarf answered in a puff.
"Lead on, Dwarf," she instructed, easily keeping pace with him. Her heart momentarily lifted at how much better her muscles felt today. She was nearly recovered!
"Bofur," the dwarf huffed out, "I'm Bofur."
"Bofur," Mirilas said, finding that the name fit the dwarf quite well.
Soon enough, Mirilas spotted several pigs with her superior vision. She quickly picked up her pace, easily passing the dwarf and jumping the canal to land beside the happily munching pigs. She plucked a good-sized stalk of athelas from one of the animals and leapt back before setting out at a run for Bard's house with Bofur following behind.
Before they could reach the house, an orc popped out in front of the elf, sweeping its crude axe down toward her head. Mirilas quickly dodged it and sent out a wave of magic, pushing it into the water and pull it down to the depths.
Bilbo hesitantly walked over the gold and jewels of the treasure hold, trying to stay as quiet as possible so that he did not wake the dragon. His eyes scanned the treasure, finding many white gems but none that fit Balin's description. There were many sizes of gems, but none shone with their own life. They were all ordinary.
All at once, the gold coins began to move, flowing down the mountain of gold to reveal a gigantic, reptilian eye closed in sleep. Bilbo hustled to hide behind one of the many pillars. As he tried to become one with the pillar, the gold started to shift around him, sliding this way and that. The hobbit knelt to think for a second, taking a gold cup into his hand to fidget with. As he did, the gold moved again, revealing an enormous dragon head behind him. The eyelids opened, revealing a secondary set of eyelids that quickly opened to reveal a golden eye. Smaug was awake.
Bilbo launched himself behind the pillar again. All was quiet save for the light tinkling of gold from the direction of the eye. Soon, that, too, stopped. As the hobbit lay on his back, he picked the little, gold Ring from his pocket and slipped it on, hoping to disappear before the dragon used his smell to find him.
The gold began to shift again. This time, dragon head rose high up into the air above him as Smaug unburied himself and sniffed at the air. "Well..." Smaug rumbled as his head swung around heading straight toward Bilbo. "Thief..." the dragon accused. "I smell you. I hear your breath. I feel your air."
As the dragon spoke, his entire body shook off the gold and jewels. The dragon slowly lumbered around the pillar, slowly waking. "Where are you?" the dragon asked, wrapping his head back around the pillar and looking carefully for the hobbit. "Where are you?" the dragon asked again, pressing only some of his magic onto the intruder and increasing the pressure until suddenly Bilbo took off at a run.
Smaug followed Bilbo down the mountain of gold. The coins slid around the hobbit, creating a small avalanche of glittering yellow. Bilbo slipped behind another pillar as the dragon slid down the gold after him. However, as he stopped, the dragon stopped. "Come now. Don't be shy. Step into the light," the dragon urged, still looking around for him.
"There is something about you. Something you carry. Something made of gold," the dragon said in recognition, beginning to press down on the intruder with his magic again, this time with more force and compulsion. "But far more precious."
Suddenly, the hobbit yanked the Ring from his finger, no longer able to stand the weight of the dragon's spell. As he stared at the Ring in confusion, the dragon peered down at him and said, "There you are, thief in the shadows."
"I-i did not come to steal from you, oh Smaug the...unassessably wealthy," the hobbit stuttered out, thinking back to the stories of dragons being fond of riddles and flattery. "I merely wanted to gaze on your magnificence. I only wanted to see if you were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them."
Smaug drew up to his full height, flexing his wings out to ask grandly, "And do you now?"
"Truly," Bilbo answered, looking up in awe and horror at the huge dragon before him. "Tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, oh Smaug the stupendous."
"Pretty flattery will not keep you alive," Smaug warned the hobbit before continuing, "You smell familiar, yet I have never smelled your kind before. What are you? Who are you?"
Bilbo thought quickly, but as he did, a glowing white stone caught his eyes. The Arkenstone! Bilbo carefully started walking toward it as he said, "I...I come from under the hill...and under hills and over hills my path has led...and, and, and through the air...I am he who walks unseen."
"Impressive titles," Smaug commented. "Go on."
"I am luck wearer," Bilbo continued. "B-barrel rider."
"Barrels? So, you were sent by those sniveling lake men? And what of your little dwarf friends? And that delightful elf smell? Hmm? Where are they hiding?"
"D-d-dwarves?" Bilbo asked, deliberately sounding as though he had never heard the word before. "No, no, no dwarves here," he refuted. "You've got that all wrong."
"Oh, I don't think so. I know the taste of dwarf, just like I know the smell of wood elf. Those pathetic dwarves are drawn to the treasure like flies to dead flesh! And y-"
Suddenly, the dragon's head pricked up, his attention far from the little hobbit attempted to burgle treasure from him. Smaug had not sensed such magic in over a hundred years. That magic had guided him to this mountain, and here it was again. The flavour of this magic was very familiar. He knew what he sensed, as any dragon would. He had to claim it before any other dragons came to claim the Dragon Jewel! This power would be his!
Before the hobbit could draw the dragon's attention back to him, the dragon crawled out of the hoard, knocking down a pillar in his haste. Bilbo stared after the dragon in confusion before rushing forward to grab the Arkenstone and stuff it into his coat. This was an unexpected stroke of luck.