Bilba dislikes heights. She had come to this conclusion in the Misty Mountains and climbing a stone staircase hidden in a gigantic statue of a dwarf has only served to cement that idea in her mind. She has every intention of keeping her feet very firmly on the ground from now on as soon as they are done here. Which is something else that she dislikes immensely. They are stood before a hidden entrance into Erebor, with only a couple of feet of stone between them and a fire-breathing dragon, preparing to enter said deadly overgrown lizard infested mountain to try and get back a pretty rock. She knows that the Jewel of Durin is more than that, though she doesn't entirely understand it, but at the moment she can't see that it is more important than their lives.
Apparently, this is not a sentiment shared by the rest of them.
The light of the rising moon has revealed the keyhole for the door to them, just as Thorin had insisted it would, and a wave of putrid air hits them as it is opened. The smell is thick with a musty scent which can only be that of a dragon, undercut with the reek of burning flesh that makes Bilba gag. Just behind her Fíli coughs as the smell hits him, along with a wave of heat that would be welcome in the chill of this late autumn night were it not for the fact that it has to have come from a dragon.
"Does that feel too warm to you?" Thorin asks Gandalf and the wizard makes a noise that Bilba dislikes. She longs to point out that there is a dragon in the mountain but holds her tongue.
"Indeed, it does," he replies. "I believe our quarry may have discovered the true nature of a dragon's gratitude."
"What do we do now?" Dwalin demands. "We had little enough of a plan on the way here and without other living dwarrow in the mountain we're hardly going to be able to sneak in."
"I would have us all go inside," Gandalf mutters, "and once inside, I would have Bilba go ahead. The mountain will be thick with the smell of dwarf so hopefully he will not notice half a dozen more, even if they haven't yet been incinerated. We need to know what has happened, but should he spot one of you Smaug's reaction will be swift and deadly. Curiosity about what Bilba is will keep her alive until we come up with a plan."
"That isn't exactly reassuring," she grumbles to the wizard.
"Do you have a better idea?" Gandalf inquires. She shakes her head. "Then that is how it must be. Come, before the stirring of the air alerts him to the fact that the door has been opened."
They follow the wizard in, Thorin pulling the door closed behind them in a way that feels vaguely ominous. Bilba huddles tightly against the nearest dwarf, Fíli from the feel of his coat, blind in the darkness. She has only the shuffle of their boots, the rustle of their clothing and the tiny pinpricks of light where their eyes are to reassure her that she is not entirely alone. Fíli once told her the strange light in their eyes when underground is to do with dwarven stone sight and now she finds it vaguely comforting when before she found it terrifying. She shuffles along next to them, her feet silent on the smoothly carved stone floor.
All too soon she can see the flickering light of fire and she feels her companions slink into the shadows as she is urged forward by the wizard. Not for the first time she finds herself wondering why she ever left home.
The heat, which had been stifling, quickly becomes unbearable and Bilba is increasingly aware of the ache in her hands and feet as they warm too rapidly after so long in the cold. Her fingers drift to her pocket where her magic ring lies waiting for her to slip it onto her finger. The wizard and the dwarves are still watching her, however, and she doesn't want to let them know that she has it even though Fíli is already aware. The ring is her secret and it is one that she intends to keep. Besides, putting it on still makes her feel ill and she isn't always sure that being hidden from sight is worth the resulting nausea.
"Where are you, little thief?" She hears the dragon purring and she darts behind the nearest pillar with a barely muffled squeak. "You cannot hide here forever," he continues, "I will find you and take it from you."
Smaug isn't talking to her, she realises, he must be talking to the one who stole the Jewel of Durin.
"It isn't yours," another voice calls back, distant and indistinct. Smaug turns, however, and Bilba darts in the same direction. Perhaps they can avoid confronting the dragon at all if they can get the one who has the stone out before Smaug realises they have left.
"You can't take it back," Smaug replies. "The dwarves will kill you just as I will. At least I will be quick about it."
Bilba hears a shuffle down a small corridor, far too small for the dragon to get into even if he were to smash his way through. She slips through an opening as the dragon's gaze turns her way, skidding into a darkly robed figure and gasping at the muffled clink that comes from him. She looks up and her apology dies on her lips.
It is a dwarf, as she has heard the others speculate, one who is probably around Fíli's age though her experience of young dwarves is limited. She has never, however, seen a dwarf look like this one. He has no beard, barely even has a hint of stubble, and even in the dim light reflected off the gold on the other side of the archway into this dark passage she can see that his jaw is littered with scars. His hair has obviously been hacked off, standing in tufts in places or shorn to the skin. There are more vicious scars as evidence that it has been done more than once and never with any care. He stares at her with dark eyes that are wide with obvious terror and she takes a step back.
Of course, now that she has found him, she has no idea how to convince him to come with her.
"I'm not going to hurt you," she whispers, acutely aware of the dragon stomping over the gold in the next room. The smell of dwarf must be so thick still that he cannot find this one. If, however, he catches her scent he will find them in a heartbeat. She tucks a stray curl behind her ear, at a loss for what to do, and his eyes follow the action.
"You're a hobbit," he breathes. She gives him a small smile and a nod, amazed that he recognises her kind when so few outside the Shire know hobbits exist. "What are you doing here?" He hisses.
"Some others and I, we've come to take it back where it belongs," she pauses, though he must know what she is referring to, and he stares at her warily. "Back to Khazad-dûm." She adds.
"I hear you, thief," Smaug roars. "I hear the coward's beat of your heart. I hear your accomplice and smell her scent."
"Come on," she gasps, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him deeper. "This has to come out somewhere and I don't think we want to be in here when he gets tired of waiting." He follows, though whether for lack of a better plan or another reason she doesn't know. "Do you have a name?" She asks.
"Not anymore," he mumbles. "The White Wizard took it from me when he-" The dwarf trails off, but he doesn't need to say anything else. Bilba can tell that the last several years of his life must have been deeply unpleasant.
"Alright," she replies, her breath beginning to come in gasps as they trot along, their speed hindered by the chains that link her companion's ankles together. "I'm Bilba. Once we get back to the others, I'm sure they'll have some idea of appropriate names for a dwarf." She stumbles and he moves like he might try to catch her before shrinking away.
"But your friends are hobbits," he whispers.
"My friends are dwarves," she corrects, finally spotting the end of the tunnel. Her companion freezes.
"They'll kill me."
"They won't," she insists. He shrinks further away. "Did you want to take it?" She asks and he shakes his head frantically. "So, why did you?"
"He said he would kill my family if I didn't," the young one says. "And I couldn't have disobeyed his order if I wanted to. His voice made me want to do his bidding."
"Yes," Bilba says distractedly, "I've heard about that being one of his abilities." She glances at him. "My friends will listen," she adds. "They'll understand. Please. I know you have no reason to, but please trust me." She holds a hand out to him and he stares at it in silence. Finally, he accepts it and they both duck through a second archway to find that they have emerged at the other end of the treasure chamber.
She recognises where they are, not far from the hidden entrance, and she tugs her companion's hand lightly. He follows obediently, the clink of chains lost in the clatter of gold coins as they skitter from under their feet. As they draw closer, however, they see Smaug's tail as it swishes at the bottom of the stairs they need to climb. There is no way for them to make it past without being caught by it.
"Smaug!" A voice roars and Bilba looks up to see Thorin standing at the top of the stairs she has been aiming for, Gandalf at his side and a sword in his hand that blazes with light.
Beside her the young dwarf lets out a strangled gasp and tugs his hood over his face.
