Bilbo had taken the command to heart, not perturbed by his impromptu banishment, and soon he was coming into the village with a lighter heart. He was back on track; it felt as though he was airing of his mind of the dragon's smoky aura, and it was amazingly freeing. The wind on his face was cool –crisp with winter in the air- and it gave him hope yet to shunt the beast from his smials yet.
"Morning, Mr. Baggins, sir!" Bilbo's ear perked up when Samwise, the Gaffer's son, saluted him from his door.
"Morning, Samwise," Bilbo said, unable to resist the smile he was given. He stopped, leaning on the fence a little, "Where's your gaffer, boy?"
"Bed, sir." Samwise kept tending the flowers his father had planted. "He's come down with a cold, mum says. Can't do nothing but keep under the covers, I reckon."
"SAMWISE!" A round woman came out of the door, drying her hands on her apron, and she eyed Bilbo warily. "Your father's asking for you. Something about the potatoes on the north hill," Sam nodded to her, waiting for her to go back indoors with a shake o her head, and then he returned his attention to Bilbo almost shyly.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Baggins." He said quickly, "It's been a good talk, but I'd better get going."
"By all means," Bilbo nodded and waved the young hobbit away, smirking. "best get going." He waited for Sam to hurry inside, or to wipe his hands and clean up his tools, but the hobbit just scuffed his heels on the dirt and glanced around shyly. "Something else, Samwise?"
"Next time I take the gaffer's time with the hedges," Sam began carefully, sticking his hands deep in his pockets again. "could you- you know..."
"Next time, I might just be working on the part about the elves," Bilbo winked at the young hobbit, his own hands in his pockets as well, and he turned back down toward the village. "or maybe even the dragon slaying..." As soon as he said it, Bilbo regretted it and quickly remedied it with a loud goodbye, hurrying down the hill into the main town with a heavy conscience.
He hoped Samwise didn't come back around before Gandalf did.
When Smaug ventured back to a window, he could see his thief talking to a smaller one and having a grand old time. He was smiling and laughing, and it looked like they were familiar with each other, and Smaug didn't like it.
He could have been telling that little one anything, and Smaug had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was ratting him out as his houseguest. Smaug was quick to pull on his worn man's clothes- a tight pair of dark breeches, worn leather, and the airy cream-coloured cotton shirt he'd dug out of Bilbo's closets.
It fit oddly, the sleeves were just past elbow length, but it draped across his shoulders and left his neck dreadfully exposed. Pulling at the strings as he'd seen Bilbo do, Smaug tried to settle the shirt back into position but failed and gave up with it, tearing the cuff of the sleeve that clung tight to him, and soon it draped over his frame more decently.
Pulling open his host's door, Smaug stepped out into the sun, his bare feet crunching in the snow, and he scowled at a small figure staring at him in awe.
"Begone," He barked, and the tiny round female disappeared into the same hole in the ground as the friend of Smaug's thiefling host. She cowered in her window, her eyes wide and stuck upon him, but Smaug cared not for her stares and amazement. He turned around promptly, bracing a foot on the small bench, and he was quick to climb the hill and disappear into the trees.
He set his noise to the wind, keeping out of sight of most of the inhabitants to the thief's strange land, and trailed him silently. He watched the thief labor down the path with a half-hearted tune on his lips, making it into his town, and slowly but surely he made his way from one stall and house to the next.
Many more of his kind greeted him like friend, offering him good he took and rejected at random, and he even gave a few of the good he accepted to those who offered him more goods. Smaug grimaced as the little man turned down a rather nice cut of meat and instead took the book, smiling gratefully, and then gave the tome away to another stall for some material that he really didn't need.
Smaug just shook his head at the curious little man and kept watching, his eyes narrow and fixed on his host with keen fascination. What on earth was the little creature doing?
He spoke to his fellow thieves –Smaug would expect nothing less- but suddenly he went into a house and didn't come out for a long enough time to make Smaug antsy. What was he doing? What was he saying? How much had he given away?! He left, and he went and got a few more groceries, but then he was surrounded by tiny children and those cakes he had specially requested were given away to bright upturned faces and sticky, grubby hands in a cacophony of laughter.
Smaug's lips twisted at the gesture and he half-sneered at the little creatures as they gobbled down the cakes his host would have brought home, possibly would have given to him later. He watched the thief trundle back up the road, laden with a few less packages since the children, and soon they were back on their way towards the hole Smaug had claimed for his own.
A merrier look was on Smaug's host's face s he returned to his home, carrying things under each arm, and Smaug waited for him to cross into a path with trees to reveal his presence.
"Well, my little thief," Smaug rumbled, slinking out from behind a tree and leaning on the trunk. "what quarry do you carry? Poisons, perhaps? Or did that hovel perhaps contain some manner of covert smithy to forge you some replacement for the blade resting above your mantle?"
Bilbo jumped in surprise, goose bumps erupting over his skin at the thought that the thought that Smaug had been stalking him so closely. "Smaug?!" Bilbo stammered, nearly dropping his goods in surprise. He looked around quickly, hoping no one had seen the dragon in man's form, and stepped in amidst the tree trunks with his houseguest. "What are you doing here?"
"I was watching you, little thief," Smaug said, his tone almost light were it not for the deep gravely rumble of his voice. "and your odd kind. What are you?"
"A Hobbit." Bilbo said shortly, not keen at having been forgotten. "I am a hobbit –you know, halfling, Shirefolk, little people- and what if someone had seen you?!"
"I would have roasted them and returned to the den with my quarry." Smaug waved a hand and tilted his hips, crossing his arms and looking way too human. "Possibly kept it hot on the fire until your return, whereupon you most likely would have shown your appreciation by gutting it and-"
"YOU CAN'T BRAISE MY NEIGHBOURS!" Bilbo insisted, letting his packages fall and fisting his hands at his sides indignantly.
"Oh yes, I can!" Smaug snarled, getting right in Bilbo's face. "What makes you think I can't, thiefling?" He dug his glare into Bilbo's heart, hoping he could instill more fear in the diminutive man creature, but Bilbo just held his ground and scowled back stubbornly. Smaug growled again, heating his throat, and muttered, "You try my patience, thief."
"Well, my God," Bilbo exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "What a crime! What do you think you've been doing since you got here!? I may be being a bit stubborn, Smaug, but I must speak my mind. I'm sorry,"
"Apology accepted." Smaug conceded lowly, unnoticed by the ranting hobbit.
"but you are a pain in the neck!" Bilbo finished, scrunching up his face and shouting. "I've been bumped and bowled over and bundled up and bustled about, and now you're going to lecture me for trying your patience! I'm sorry,"
"Apology accepted." Smaug chuckled, watching his little host work himself up.
"but that is absolutely ridiculous!" Bilbo was nearly red in the face now, shouting and waving his arms and stomping about in the snow while Smaug watched with growing amusement and delight. If his host would get so peaky every time they were confrontational, Smaug would have to pester the puny thing more often; the effort would be well worth the entertainment. "I bought eggs, and more bacon, and I even found someone who would sell me some canned peaches from the orchards last summer! Those peaches were excellent, and the chickens in most coops only produce a few eggs every week! Do you know how much bartering and haggling I had to do to get these?"
Smaug blinked, narrowing his eyes at the packages. Bacon? Eggs? Peaches? Smaug licked his lips at the possibility of more foods he'd like to consume, eyeing his host as well, and slowly the creature worked himself down.
"You don't even care, do you?" He grumbled, running his hands through his curly straw-coloured hair. "Not a single bit." He shook his head, throwing up his hands, and he turned away from Smaug to pick up the parcels bitterly. "You just roll into my lovely hobbit hole like a storm and shake everything up! Commandeer my hearth; patronize me; eat my food; terrorize me! You just do what you want, get what you want, when you want. It doesn't matter..."
Suddenly, Bilbo's things were ripped from his hands and it was his turn to snarl, which rather surprised the dragon wearing a man's skin. "Give me those!"
"Thiefling, your temper is most amusing, however my extremities have begun to feel the cold." Smaug lifted a bare foot to reiterate. "Shall we return to the den? Or would you like to continue your tantrum here?" He shifted his weight, hefting the packages to one arm and over his shoulder, and looked at the hobbit expectantly.
Bilbo gaped, staring with wide eyes, and then looked away. "Let's go."