They heard nothing from Bilbo for the next few days. Sometimes Thorin suspected he caught the low murmur of voices, but if the hobbit was actually ispeaking/i with Smaug... that frightened him far more than anything else.

He remembered vaguely a story of Glaurung, Father of Dragons, whose magic bewitched a princess to forget entirely who she was. She knew nothing of the world or of herself, and in her ignorance she went so far as to marry her own brother. The spell was only broken when Glaurung was slain, at which point she cast herself into a river and her body was never found.

Thorin had been told the story as a child, sitting in Grandfather Thror's lap. Dragons were the subject of his favorite stories, particularly the ones in which they ate scores of elves. Great Uncle Fror had been killed by a cold-drake, as well as Great Grandfather Dain. Even tales of Scatha the Worm delighted him, though most of his story was more about Fram, the Man who slayed him and dared to claim the treasure that had rightfully belonged to the dwarves.

What worried him was Bilbo's knowledge of dragons. It was unlikely that fauntlings grew up with the same stories as dwarrows. Hobbits were so much tamer. While Thorin had grew up on tales of war and blood and gold, that was just the dwarf way. They were raised to be warriors and smiths, a stout people accustomed to danger.

Bilbo was anything but, from what Thorin knew of him. He was reminded strongly of that first night in Bag-End, when the halfling toppled over just during conversation of Smaug. The king-in-exile realized for the first time how scared Bilbo must have been when they sent him alone to fetch the cup.

"Forgive me," he had murmured aloud, as though Bilbo could hear him. Kili had looked up in surprise and asked what for, but Fili had silenced him with a cuff across the head.

The progress in the tunnel was slow. The dragon had ensured to collapse it well, and one wrong strike would bring the whole thing down on their heads. As Bofur was the only one who'd really spent a lot of time mining, he had to teach everyone what to look for in order to keep the tunnel from collapsing completely. Thorin itched to do something, to help, but the Company never let him alone for a minute. With his hands in the condition they were in, he was forbidden from using them much, and he had to make do with watching the others work.

Fili and Kili made good company, when they weren't sneaking off. Speaking with them kept Thorin's mind off Bilbo's horrible situation and he focused instead on how very proud he was of them for what they had achieved. Kili had barely reached adulthood before they left, and he had still acted much like a child. While some of that was his personality, Thorin was impressed with how much more responsible and independent he seemed. Certainly, he stuck to his brother like glue, and doing anything without Fili seemed to frighten him, but he wasn't so much of a baby anymore. He was a warrior, with an astounding number of kills under his belt for his age.

Thorin had also come to appreciate and even respect his choice of weapon. While archery was a bit too Elvish for his taste, Kili had saved Thorin's life alone several times with his sharp eyes and quick fingers. When Fili had pleaded for Kili to come on the quest as well, he had named Kili's unique skills as one of the reasons for him to join them. Thorin had been skeptical, but he saw now that Fili had been right. Kili was an excellent hunter, quiet on his feet for a dwarf and still small enough that he could remain somewhat unnoticed. When he wanted to be, he could be remarkably silent. Without him, the Company would have starved to death.

Fili too had proved himself. Thorin had less doubts in his blond nephew than in Kili, but Fili had still impressed him. His skill with his blade and knives had improved dramatically in the face of real battle, and he had adjusted quickly to the task. Between Dwalin and Thorin's collective training, Fili had learned a great deal. But it wasn't just that. Fili was a natural fighter. He was born to be a king, and Thorin had been grooming him into his heir since his childhood. His instincts served him remarkably well. All in all, Thorin was glad to have them both as his nephews.

As for the recent development in their relationship, Thorin kept it to himself. They seemed happy enough together, and he loved them too dearly to wish them anything less than the best. The boys had always been very close since childhood, and he had suspected for some time now that perhaps they were closer than brothers maybe ought to be. Still, Thorin saw no harm in it. Dwarves were slow to love, but once they did, it was with a fierce and unbending passion. He had seen that love in his nephews, and he would not allow anyone to ruin that for them.

Secrets did not keep long in this Company though, and that was just as well. When Ori caught his friends kissing by the river, half naked and flushed, everyone found out. Fili and Kili had been worried at first, that much was obvious. But Thorin was ever their stalwart defender, just as he always had been. If anyone said anything negative against the princes' relationship, they found themselves on their back with a blade at their throat.

Thorin just didn't tolerate that kind of behavior, and the Company learned quickly to keep their objections to themselves..

X

Bilbo had not dreamed in some time, but he did that night. He dreamed he was standing against Smaug. Not the Smaug that held him and warmed him, but the one that he had first seen, the enormous scarlet dragon, his scales glistening with gems and gold. The dragon towered above him, smoke billowing from his nostrils as he let out a huge burst of flame from his mouth. The fire was all around him.

But Bilbo didn't burn or scream or even feel any pain. The fire seemed to swallow him whole, licking at him and bathing him, until his skin began to peel. Frowning, he plucked at the dead skin, only for it to all come off in one horrible chunk. Instead of soft, hobbit skin, his arms were smooth with dark red scales, identical to Smaug's. He turned, horrified, to face the dragon once more, only to see that he was once more at his smaller size, pushing a clump of dark hair back behind his curled horns and smiling at him.

"Mine," Smaug told him, and kissed him.

Bilbo woke with a cry of terror on his lips, jerking upright. His eyes immediately went to his arms, rubbing against them to be completely certain that there were no scales there. Smaug grumbled as Bilbo pushed away a leathery wing that had been outstretched over him, sliding down the immense pile of treasure.

A golden eye opened, watching him lazily. "Just where are you going, my succulent little hobbit?"

Bilbo pulled his knees up to his chest at the bottom of the pile, letting out a sigh. "Nowhere," he replied softly. "Nowhere at all."

The dragon slid down after Bilbo, pulling him into an embrace. The hobbit didn't fight, trembling slightly as Smaug's arms wrapped possessively around him. He could feel his breath on his shoulder, and despite the nightmare, despite everything, BIlbo found himself curling closer, seeking out warmth and affection.

iDespite all his faults/i, Bilbo found himself thinking hazily, ihe certainly does keep me warm and taken care of/i.

Scaled fingers brushed across the hobbit's lips, and he looked up into those entrancing golden eyes. A sudden feeling of immense calm washed over him, and he relaxed completely into Smaug's arms.

"Tell me what's on your mind," he purred.

Almost distantly, Bilbo heard himself spilling his heart out to his captor. "-and Thorin actually seems like he's iworried/i about-"

Smaug stopped him with a look. "Thorin?" he questioned, his curiosity peaked. The name seemed so familiar.

"Thorin Oakenshield," Bilbo informed him. "Son of Thrain, son of Thror, all of that nonsense. You know how dwarves are."

Smaug really did have the most lovely eyes. Gold, but at just the right angle, they were scarlet. It was fascinating. Bilbo was quite certain he could stare at them forever. His lips too were surprisingly red. Funny how it took the hobbit so long to notice how pretty they were, twisted upwards just a little in that amused smile.

"The supposed next King Under the Mountain," Smaug commented, and Bilbo nodded.

"He's terribly full of himself," he babbled. "Though I suppose he has reason to be. Balin told us the story of how he came to be called Oakenshield, and I think-"

Smaug cut off the chatter with a wave of his hand. Bilbo immediately fell silent, watching the dragon with wide eyes.

Smaug fixed him with another long stare, his gold eyes boring into the hobbit's very soul. He was surprised it had taken this long to really drag Bilbo down under the dragonspell, but the little creature was completely under his power now. "I am King Under the Mountain now," he intoned.

Bilbo frowned.

"I am King Under the Mountain, am I not?" Smaug pressed. There was a pause, and the hobbit nodded reluctantly, looking a little puzzled.

Strange. Perhaps Baggins wasn't quite as under his spell as he thought. Well, it wasn't as though they didn't have plenty of time to remedy that. Still, Bilbo was accepting it. It was time for a little brainwashing.

"They are not coming for you, little hobbit," he informed him. Bilbo's brow furrowed, but he didn't break eye contact. Good. "They would not dare risk their skins for you, not like you have for them. Dwarves are terribly ungrateful. Believe me, my dear, I know."

The hobbit looked more confused than anything. It wouldn't be difficult to pull him over to Smaug's side, and the dragon continued, thoroughly enjoying the power he had over him.

"It is so much better this way," he purred into the halfling's ear. "All this treasure is yours. The dwarves promised you a share, did they not? They would have never given it to you. Dwarves are so horribly greedy. You have seen it yourself, haven't you, Bilbo?"

The more Smaug spoke, the more Bilbo realized he was right. He nodded again. He ihad/i seen it, hadn't he? He remembered so clearly now how Thorin had stolen a golden button off his waistcoat, how Kili had tried to snitch Sting while he wasn't looking. They iwere/i so greedy. This whole journey they had just been trying to take his things. They had given him the smallest rations they could, even! And after all the times he had gotten their necks out of danger. They were ungrateful, and rude, and greedy. Bilbo could see now they would have never let him touch even a single golden coin of the treasure.

"They have been lying to you, halfling," Smaug told him quietly, and something hardened in Bilbo's face. The dragon suppressed a victorious smirk.

"Tell me where they are," the dragon hissed to him. "I will drive them off, and they will never lay a finger on your treasure. You earned it. They mean to steal it from you. Will you let them continue to plot and scheme against you?"

"It's mine!"

Good. Smaug had finally got him. He smiled dangerously, brushing a kiss across Bilbo's lips. "Tell me where they are."