Author's Note: Merry Christmas! This was super fun to write, and I love the end result! I hope you like it! It is a sort of tame Crack-fic, but Christmassy! There are dragons and dwarves and wizards and hobbits and fun! I have spacers labelled as chapters for scene changes since the fanfiction format hates me. Also, to those who already looked at this fanfiction, it glitched when I posted it, so I had to resubmit it. Anyway, Enjoy!

Next to the Misty Mountains, there was a small city called Lakedtown. It was a cold, cold place which shivered in the shadows of the strange Lonely Mountain. Now the main reason for all this gloom was the mayor of Laketown, a mean old grouch everyone referred to as the Master of Laketown.

One day, while gorging himself on feasts bought with the money he had squeezed out of the townsmen, his assistant, Alfred, came rushing into the room, calling his name. With him, he brought a gust of cold air that was warmer still than the heart of the Master of Laketown.

"Master, Master!" he called, hurrying over. "Look what was discovered on your front stoop!"

"What? What, Alfred? The milk? The Daily Paper?" he questioned, examining the glistening gravy that spilled over the turkey leg.

"No, sir…a hobbit!" Alfred said excitedly. He had never had a hobbit before. It might liven the place up a bit.

"Oh, is that all-" Master said before gagging on the roast mutton in surprise. At least he got a thrill of glee when he spit some on the stupid Alfred. "A hobbit?!" he demanded, looking down at the small, child-like hobbit standing quietly next to Alfred. The hobbit looked up at him with curious yet frightened eyes.

"There was a note," Alfred explained, hoping that the hobbit wasn't afraid. He pulled out the crumpled paper. "Please, sir, take care of this hobbit, and protect him from the dangers of the Lonely Mountain. He will be exceptional if only given the love he needs. Signed, Lebilia, whoever that is," Alfred said, though he remarked the scowl now worn by the hobbit.

Master abruptly stood and pounded his fist on the table. The gravy spilled and he resolved to mop it up with Alfred later. "I, Master of Laketown, take care of a hobbit?" he shouted in outrage. "What's its name?"

"There is only one clue on the note, sir," Alfred examined the paper. "Baggins."

"Oh, take the little…uh…baggage to the work-house. The proper place for lost hobbits anyway," Master decided, turning his nose up at the lost little hobbit. The hobbit gave him a pout.

"Away with it!" Master shouted, prodding Alfred with his fork. Alfred quickly picked up the hobbit under his arms and hurried him out of the room.

While the hobbit didn't look like a child hobbit, he definitely had the position of one. Thus, Alfred stuck him in a side-boat and began to sail towards the work-house. Oh well, no hobbit for him.

Suddenly, a large ship scrapped into the side of Alfred's little boat. "Bard, you oaf!" he shouted right as he heard the snapping of wood. Whirling around, and almost tipping the boat, he saw that the hobbit's canoe was swiftly sailing away, having been broken off in the accident.

"Oh! Come back, little hobbit Baggins! Come back!" Alfred shouted.

But it was no use as the little boat with the little Baggins was carried by a swift current across the cold late…towards the Lonely Mountain.

Chapter 2

Well, that strange current blew the little boat right up to the shore of the Lonely Mountain. For you see, the mountain was the home of the awful, the terrible, oh I hate to even write his name. That mountain was the home of the dragon Smaug. A strange dragon who lived alone in the ghostly palace of gold and stone, sleeping and dreaming evil dreams.

The Eagles, who had spotted Bilbo sailing lonely towards the mountain, knew that they had to hide that Hobbit, and fast. They knew where the hobbit belonged, so, quick as they could, they snatched up Bilbo and started on their journey. Bilbo, who was quite warm, bundled in his blanket and clasped in a giant bird's claws, was quite put out by the whole situation. But, grumpy or not, there was not much to do about it. His nose began to run, and he wished desperately for one of his handkerchiefs. Lebilia was probably rubbing her grubby little nose all over his right now. But abruptly, tiredness washed over him. He felt his head sink as the lull of the wind and the movement of the bird sent him off to sleep.

Chapter 3

Just beyond the Mountain was a valley and there, by a bend in a magical stream was the home of a family of little people called dwarves. While they might not have all been under the same name, the last name of Oakenshield had been placed over the door.

Chapter 4

The Eagles gently rested the sleeping hobbit in front of the door. The eagle who had carried him tapped on the door before flying away in a burst of feathers, feeling quite proud of himself.

Chapter 5

The door was answered by a dwarf named Balin. Balin opened the door and peered out. On seeing no one, he stepped onto the porch. "Yes? Who's there?" he questioned before looking down and seeing the little lump of Bilbo. "There's who? Ooh! Wiggle my ears and tickle my toes, me thinks me sees and Hobbit's nose! It's more than a nose," he said, pulling up the blanket. Bilbo, by the sudden noise, had woken up and was sitting, cross-legged under the blanket. He looked up at Balin with big, curious eyes. "There's a whole hobbit attached to it!" Balin exclaimed. "Better call my brothers! Dwalin, Bifer, Bofer, Bomber, Oin, Gloin, Ori, Nori, Dori, Fili, Kili, Thorin!" he called. Each dwarf appeared in the doorway, some looking much grumpier in the light than the others. Bilbo watched them all, unsure how to proceed.

"What is it, Balin?"

"It's a Hobbit, Dwalin!"

"A Hobbit what, Balin?"

"A Hobbit, Hobbit, Bifer," Bomber explained.

"I don't like Hobbits," Thorin put in, but no one listened to him. Except the Hobbit, who stuck out his tongue.

"Our hobbit is the best hobbit of them all, Balin!" Ori said, poking Bilbo's nose.

"Let's take him inside, so he does not freeze in the cold, Ori," said Dori.

"He has a blanket," Kili observed.

The dwarves rolled their eyes.

Balin picked up the little hobbit and brought him to their leader: Gandalf.

Bilbo was surprised to see such a large being in the small house. His hat scrapped the roof, and his forehead would easily bonk on any of the door frames.

"A hobbit!" Gandalf shouted in surprise. "What a splendid idea! Might liven up the place a bit. He shall live with us and drink warm beer with us."

Bilbo wanted to interject that he would much rather have tea when Nori interrupted his thoughts. "What will we call him, Mr. Gandalf?"

"My name is Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins," Bilbo said, crossing his arms, which was quite difficult to do since Gandalf was holding him under his arms.

"He does speak! Good! That will make it much easier!" Fili said excitedly.

"Unusual name," Gandalf said. "But it is what he has. He is one of us now!"

The dwarves all bellowed cheers, which made Bilbo cover his ears. Except for Thorin.

Chapter 6

Well, those little dwarves took that Hobbit to their hearts. Except for Thorin. Soon, they taught him everything they knew (except for Thorin), like the important things if carving and etching and weighing and bartering. The taught him how to survive, fight with a little sword, and to find his way by counting the stars on a crystal night. Except for Thorin who, if you hadn't guessed already, was, in general, a very grumpy person. Most importantly, they taught him how to sculpt metal and jewels. This practice, Bilbo didn't quite understand since he was a hobbit, and riches did not please him. Yet, he did this to make them happy for they had found a place into his heart as well. And, making riches was the dwarves main occupation. The only problem was that there was no one to trade with. The metal and jewels they used were simply iron or steel and quartz which they found in the river. Nothing precious. You remember that Laketown was on the other side of the Lonely Mountain. And the dwarves couldn't make it past the dragon and into their homeland to craft and trade. So, their trinkets kind of stacked up some.

"It's really quite sad," Thorin remarked to Bilbo. Bilbo was quite startled since Thorin usually wasn't the remarking type. But, bilbo had just returned from adding one of his works to the pile. "We will never be able to transport our work over the mountain."

Bilbo could tell that Thorin had been brooding again. Suddenly, he got an idea. "Someday, when I am better at travelling, fighting, and crafting, I'll take them for you, Thorin!"

"Oh, that will be the day," Thorin said ruefully.

"We would be great crafters again, as we once were," Balin said, walking into the room.

"When was that, Balin?" Bilbo asked.

"Oh, years and years ago," he explained, tugging his white beard.

"The dwarves of Erebor were world-renowned, for, you know, we were the very first royal crafters," Thorin interjected. "The first crafting dwarf kingdom."

Suddenly, all of the dwarves seemed to appear around Bilbo and began to sing.

"It's a difficult responsibility!" the sang.

"When you accept an appointment as his majesty," Thorin's baritone voice rang out.

"You must strive for just the perfect quality," Balin and Dwalin harmonized.

"When you're the first crafters with a king," they all sang out.

"All the spears must be erect for the kingdom they protect," Gloin sang.

"The jewels must gleam brighter if they are to please his royal sire," Balin chimed.

"And the metals must be in perfect rows," Ori hummed.

"And diamonds shine like fresh snows," Dori sang.

"To make the king forget his kingly woes!" the dwarves harmonized.

"The goblets must always klink!"

"And the jewels always wink."

"The necklaces must never be dirty."

"If they're to gay his royal curry!"

"The gems must always pop!"

"And the work must never stop!"

Altogether, the dwarves sang out.

"It's a difficult responsibility!"

"When you accept an appointment as his majesty!"

"You must strive for just the perfect quality!"

"When you're the first crafters with a king!"

Chapter 7

Of course, Bilbo had other teachers. The animals. The spiders taught him to scurry around the forest. The pony's taught him how to laugh, really hard like he meant it. And Gollum taught him to catch fish. But, the most important of all, was his ring, which would gift him with invisibility when he really needed it. Of course, he had no idea that it was the evilest object to doom the world to eternal darkness. But, wrong story.

Well, years went by, and finally, Bilbo was a fine burglar.

"I'm a burglar now, Gandalf," Bilbo said. "I can find the Arkenstone of the Lonely Mountain."

"It would be nice if someone could wear our jewels," Dori remarked.

"If only one of my swords could be held tight by a warrior," Dwalin dreamily said.

"Besides, it's will be Durin's Day tomorrow! We will have to wait another year if we miss it!" Kili pointed out.

"It's decided then! Tomorrow, I leave for the Lonely Mountain!"

The dwarves cheered excitedly before giving him the key to the secret door!

Late that night, as Bilbo was in his dark room, packing, Thorin knocked on the open door. "Thorin?" Bilbo asked in surprise. "I was just packing. Did I wake you up?"

"I was awake anyhow," Thorin said, hiding the fact that he loved brooding in the dark. "I wanted to bring you this for your trip."

Thorin held up a chain-shirt that sparkled like the stars above.

"A real Mithril shirt!" Bilbo exclaimed. "Thank you, Thorin!" he said, donning it. It was a little big, but it would work perfectly.

Chapter 8

Bilbo said good-bye to all his friends, dwarf, wizard, and animal. Just as night was falling, Bilbo was making his way through the dismal woods of the elf king Thranduil. Suddenly, he felt a hard knock on his head. Bilbo wondered what it had been as he fell over onto the ground. Scrambling onto his hands and knees, he peered onto the ground to see a little sword laying there.

"Why…why, you're a sword! Well, what is a sword doing here?" he questioned. "You're just about as lost as you could get. You better travel with me. You need someone to take care of you," he said, polishing the blade on his coat. "My head stings," he said, rubbing his aching noggin'. "I'll call you Sting!"

Bilbo began walking when suddenly, a booming voice rang out.

"Who nears my kingdom!" Thranduil shouted. "Go back! Or you are doomed!"

Bilbo quickly slipped on his magic, evil ring, disappearing in an instant. He quickly scampered away!

Chapter 9

In no time, Bilbo was at the base of the Lonely Mountain. "I made it! And look!" He noticed the large dwarves carved into the side of the mountain. Luckily, he was an expert climber (thanks to his spider friends). He soon stood in front of the secret door, though he wasn't sure where it was. "The Lonely Mountain! Just sitting there waiting for me and my dwarf friends!"

That's what he thought. But what he didn't realize was at that very moment, in the great hall of Erebor, Smaug was reveling in his dark dreams.

In his dreams, he thought of the dwarves. They were tasty, but when they weren't being eaten, they were nasty. "I hate dwarves, and dwarves hate me," he thought. "Either they get eaten or I get eaten. And I am certainly not getting eaten."

In his evil dreams, Smaug began to hum a song.

"It's a difficult responsibility. That I accept from the ruler of Erebor, me!"

"Have it known through the land from sea to sea."

"Any dwarf in the land will be eaten by me!"

"All the little soldiers, melt them down!"

"Eat the inhabitants of every town."

"Each puffed up leader, deflate it!"

"No, I won't debate it!"

"And all the sneaky dwarves, fry their tipping toes."

"Grab all the jewels and sink their boats!"

"They bring me only woes!"

"Every entrance must be sealed."

"Until my arrow wound heals."

"And all the golds, I steal them!"

"When a dwarf complains, I eat them!"

"No more sparrows rat-a-tat-tat!"

"No more trumpets root-a-toot-toot!"

"Don't let me see another dwarf!"

"Or they will face my brute!"

"It's a difficult responsibility. That I accept as the ruler of Erebor, me. Let it be known through land from sea to sea. Dwarves are hereby declared, illegal, immoral, unlawful, and anyone found with a dwarf will be roasted and eaten!"

"There will be no more crafters with a king!"

Smaug rumbled evilly.

Chapter 10

As soon as the Moon came out, Bilbo fit the key into the door. It pushed open rather easily, but he still stumbled inside. He felt a slight shiver go down his spine. It was as if the mountain was watching him. It might have been because of the wind which seemed to breath in and out as though it were from a large beast. Bilbo shivered even more when he realized that it was. But, he continued down the hall. Within a few steps, the hall opened up, and the air cleared. Bilbo's jaw dropped as he saw a sea of gold beneath him. Waves of jewels sparkled at him like stars set in a golden sky. This was going to be a lot harder than he had thought. He scampered down the stairs and began to walk careful along the crest of a golden mountain. He kept his eyes pealed for a sparkly white jewel which the dwarves had helpfully described for him. However, the only thing he could see was endless coins. Suddenly, a goblet caught his eye. Maybe it was in the overturned goblet. Bilbo quickly pulled on it before realizing his mistake.

Smaug twisted around and dug deeper into his pile of gold. "Ah, a perfect day," he thought. "The castle is glum, something's alive in here, and my goblet is gone."

Smaug gasped only to choke and snort out a few coins. "MY GOBLET IS GONE!"

Smaug suddenly burst out from his mount, extending his wings. Gold and jewels flew out from his wings, falling to the ground like precious snowflakes. His jaws opened and he roared in hate as flame erupted in his belly. He snarled, whipping his head around, trying to spot the offender. He growled deep in his throat before inhaling deeply.

"Well, thief…I smell you," he hissed, his voice echoing through the empty halls. He sniffed again, to emphasize the point. Then he smelled a tang in the air. Something both extremely familiar, but much finer and potent. It tickled his senses and he closed his eyes. "You carry something…something made of gold. But far more precious."

The word echoed around the hall, terrifying Bilbo and he felt as though it rang through his bones. Somehow, he yanked the ring off his finger only to see a fiery orange slitted eye starring right back at him. "How dare you! You must be a nonconformist and a rebel! You've disturbed me for the very last time. Now I have you! You'll never get away!"

Smaug's terrible laugh pounded in Bilbo's chest and he shrank away as Smaug's wing claws clenched around him.

Chapter 11

Bilbo suddenly got an idea. Swallowing the lump of fear in his throat, he choked out, "Look, uh, before you do me in, would you let me loose for a second?" he asked.

Smaug's evil laugh died and he glanced at the hobbit oddly.

"You see, I have something for you," he squeaked.

"What is this, a trick?" Smaug demanded, eyeing the hobbit.

"Oh, oh, no, sir, Mr. Dragon, or may I call you Smaug?"

"Mr. Dragon if you please," Smaug growled.

"Oh, well, I managed to save one little trinket I've made with my dwarf friends. I'd like you to have it," Bilbo said.

Smaug puffed up his chest in anger at the mention of dwarfs, but lost his steam when he heard the rest of the sentence.

"You…you wish to give me…a present?" he asked, his wings lowering slightly till Bilbo's feet touched the floor. "A…a trinket?"

"Yes, sir," Bilbo affirmed.

"But…nobody ever gives a mean old dragon…a trinket," he said, sniffing.

"I'd like to start a new custom," Bilbo responded. "If you'd just…" Bilbo looked down at the claws.

"What? Oh, oh, yes, of course," the dragon chuckled, gently setting Bilbo on his feet.

Bilbo took a deep breath to steady his horribly shaken nerves.

"And, no tricks now," the dragon warned, his voice taking a bit more of an edge.

"Oh, oh, no!" Bilbo agreed. "No, sir, Mr. Dragon."

Bilbo pulled out the gift.

"M-Mithril?" the dragon asked softly. "I've always wanted some!"

The dragon sniffed, and Bilbo suddenly heard the sound of a steaming tea-kettle.

"What's that?" he asked.

The dragon seemed to deflate a little, and the fire melted from his eyes, turning them more gold than orange. He was no longer as fearsome. He sat like a cat with his tail curled around his less sharp talons.

"It's…my fiery heart," the dragon whimpered. "It's cooling."

"Well, look, Mr. Dragon-"

"Please," the dragon interrupted. "Please, call me Smaug."

"Smaug?"

"Oh, yes, yes! Suddenly, my whole outlook has changed from bad to good," the once fearsome dragon admitted.

"Great!" Bilbo jumped in the air with glee.

"Ah, but will it last?" the dragon questioned, lowering his head. "I really am a mean and despicable creature at heart, you know. It's so difficult to…really change."

"Difficult?" a new voice asked.

Bilbo's face lit up with excitement as he recognized Gandalf.

"Why look here," Gandalf said, shaking his stick. "Changing from bad to good is as easy as taking your first step."

Suddenly, all of the dwarves, who couldn't help but follow their beloved hobbit, burst out from their hiding places to sing.

"Put one claw in front of the other! And soon you'll be gliding across the floor!"

As the dwarves sang their new song, Bilbo beckoned for the dragon to follow. Smaug shakily stood but walked after Bilbo, keeping his wings steady. The dragon yipped excitedly before rubbing against Bilbo.

The dwarfs' cheers filled the house.

"Well, there's…there's all kinds of ways we can help each other," Smaug said, beating his wings. "I can work the furnace and heat the castle! And you can give me gold to play with!"

Thorin came out into view and crossed his arms angrily.

"Oh," the dragon said. "Here, I'll start."

Nosing around in the piles a little, Smaug quickly found what he was looking for and dropped the Arkenstone on the ground in front of Thorin.

"Can we keep him?" Bilbo asked.

Thorin sighed. "I suppose. He might liven up the place a bit."

Chapter 12

The Mountain was alive again. Smaug kept his word and he became a staple of the mountain. And, once they discovered that the ring was a powerful evil, Smaug gladly melted it with his fire, extinguishing the evilest being in Middle Earth and saving the world. And, as the years went by, animals delivered letters by the thousands from the people of Laketown. It turned out that they were very in need of help as their master was cruel. So Smaug ate him. And the people of Laketown prospered. Smaug travelled constantly to Laketown to give them the supplies they needed. Soon, after a particularly gusty and cold flight, Smaug flopped down in front of Thorin's throne. Thorin, who had actually grown less broody and fonder of the dragon, allowed this. The dragon plopped his head onto the dwarf's lap. "I can hardly keep up with the orders," the dragon said sleepily. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to limit my journeys to…one a year. But on which night should I go out?"

It wasn't a hard decision to make. They chose, of course, the holiest night of the year…the night of profound love, which was the perfect night for giving. It was Thorin's idea for Smaug to travel on Christmas Eve.

Thus, it was the first Christmas Eve of Smaug's journey that the dwarves, hobbit, and wizard came to wish him good luck.

"How goes it, Gandalf?" Bilbo asked.

"I've got my magic power working just fine. I can cast up a big freeze. I think I can guarantee a white Christmas!"

"Wonderful!" Balin shouted.

"Then let's be off!" Smaug said.

And as Smaug flew out of sight bestow jewely gifts on Laketown, he roared, "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"