These chapters are getting longer and longer, and everything in this story is getting so goddamn adorable! *rolls around and flails arms* I can't even- ugh! *covers face and gurgles* I love this so much! My precious baby!
It was rough morning for them both.
Bilbo, set on not humoring Smaug and his moods, did his damnedest to keep himself busy and away from his main room. He rearranged his deepest rooms, dusting and airing out every room possible, and moved ripening foods to more accessible larders for prompt use. Clothing was aired out, refolded, mothballs were changed, and closets were emptied of ill-fitting or unwearable articles with a keen eye. Bilbo knew a seamstress in town who would help take in and mend them, maybe even stay for supper, and the idea of inviting her to his home put a spring in his step.
He crossed the hall, arms full of the offending pieces of his wardrobe, and into one of his more central rooms he hoarded it all. It was a sweet enough little study; high ceiling that rolled with the hill, light-coloured decor, some good lights to provide what the skylight could not. It would be the perfect place to woo her a little more; some fragrant tea to permeate the air, perhaps a little tray to nibble on, and she would be charmed for certain.
Bilbo had never thought himself a ladies' man, but it was a good plan and Bilbo liked it more and more as he set out the clothing carefully for later. He liked it so much, in fact, that he paid little attention to where he wandered in his hole.
"Hello, thief," Smaug rumbled, moodily glancing over one bare shoulder at him and looking altogether unpleasant. "awake at last?" A faint haze of smoke hung in the air, making Bilbo frown immediately at what it would do to his things.
"I've been awake for some time." Bilbo said shortly, coughing as another plume of smoke rose unchecked from the man's nostrils. "Could you stop that? You'll-" He gave up his reason when, staring right at him, Smaug released a darker snort and made it quite clear he would not stop it any time soon no matter what Bilbo said. "Fine. Be that way. I'm going to have lunch."
"What about me, thief?" Smaug grunted, throwing on a log from the dwindling stack beside the hearth. Bilbo sighed wordlessly and shook his head, padding into the kitchen calmly and assembling a few sandwiches for himself, cutting up some apple for later.
He took a seat near the fire –not too near, mind you- and dug into one half with a small, contented smile. It took a moment for his chewing to attract attention but soon, after quickly scanning the floor close to him, Smaug was watching him closely.
"Are you eating without me?" Smaug demanded, his eyes wide and his eyebrows shooting up into his messy curls.
"Dunno, let me check." Bilbo said around a bite of sandwich, chewing it thoughtfully, and then he swallowed. "Yeah, I think so."
"You can't!" Smaug insisted, pushing up on his hands. "You're not allowed!"
"Well, bloody hell," Bilbo said dryly, liking having the upper hand for once. "I might go to jail for this then." He took a good bite and groaned appreciatively for emphasis. "So worth it." Bilbo stopped chewing when Smaug rose to his feet, puffing out his naked chest, and lifted his head.
"You- GREAT FIRES!" The man cracked his head off the slope of the ceiling, hitting it hard, and his hands flew up to cradle it as he sat back down.
Plaster fell a little, making Bilbo choke, and the hobbit struggled to swallow as he got to his feet and let the plate fall to the floor unchecked. His sandwiches spilled apart without a care, and Bilbo was quick to approach the groaning dragon-man.
"My soul!" Bilbo cried, barely Smaug's kneeling height as he stood next to the dragon in man skin to check his head. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Smaug grunted, clutching his head and squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as he clenched his teeth. Bilbo could see the thick vein in Smaug's neck standing out with effort and felt his crankiness with his guest withdraw a little; that blow had to have hurt.
"Come on now," Bilbo sighed and moved a little closer. He reached out a hand toward the dragon's head, "let me-" and suddenly he was on the hearth not for the first time that week. The man's hand pressed down on his throat, making his pulse quicken, and Bilbo stared up into eyes filled with dragon-like malice through a sheen of pained tears.
"Do not touch me, thiefling." Smaug growled, the glow of his throat unmistakably fire.
"I-I was just-" Bilbo choked on his own explanation as the dragon applied more pressure. "w-worried! I-I'm sorry, Smaug, I didn't mean to-"
"'Worried'?!" Smaug drew back from Bilbo as if he had been burned, and suddenly Bilbo could breathe easy. He watched the dragon in man form skitter back on his hands, eyes fixed on Bilbo with feral rage and confusion obviously present. "I am a dragon, little thief! What should you worry about, other than how you should please me!?" The bluster was loud and powerful, but the shaken expression was not so easily masked on Smaug's human face and Bilbo sat up slowly, rubbing his sore neck. "I am Smaug the Terrible! Chiefest of Calamities! My claws are swords! My teeth are spears! My armour shields tenfold! My very breath is death, thiefling! My wings are a hurricane!"
"..." Bilbo let the dragon-man wind himself with his shouting, grateful that he was farther from his neighbors than most, and gave him all the patience he possessed. God, he thought, this is the stupidest thing I've ever done. "You were, indeed, all those things, Smaug the Terrible," Bilbo crept a few steps closer, monitoring the dragon's tense posture in case he might pose another attack. "but you said yourself this flesh is vulnerable... I just want to make sure you're alright."
Smaug snorted, one hand pressed to the back of his head again, and grimaced at Bilbo when the hobbit took another step closer. "You still have those nice manners of yours, thiefling."
Bilbo nodded and made a noise of agreement, bending a little at the waist. "May I, oh Chiefest of Calamities? Our heads can be extremely fragile... we lack the dazzling spines of your most powerful of forms." Slowly, Smaug sat against the wall nearest the door, his eyes never leaving Bilbo's bowing form, and Bilbo began to sweat that the dragon would deny him- or worse, scald him for his trouble. The golden pools and diamond pupils narrowed, making Bilbo swallow hard, and the sudden beckon of his hand made Bilbo stiffen. "The-Thank you, oh Smaug the Great."
"Hn." Smaug turned his eyes away from Bilbo, lifting the suffocating pressure, and the hobbit took an uneasy breath as he was given consent to approach and took it. He moved slowly and warily, not wanting the dragon to lash out, and he watched as Smaug bent his head to allow him access.
"Now..." Bilbo said cautiously, trying not to sound at all cautious. Smaug always got so angry when he was frightened, and then the whole thing went wrong. "I'm just going to touch it a little. Tell me if it hurts, will you?"
"Hn." "Oh, would you stop it?" Bilbo grumbled, stepping over Smaug's knee to get closer and frowning when the dragon lifted his gaze to his face. "I'm trying to help you, and you're sitting her sulking like I'm pulling teeth!"
"I see not what you will do to aid me, thiefling." Smaug grunted, clenching his teeth as his head continued to throb. "This is folly and a waste."
"Oh, don't be such a baby." Bilbo grunted back. "Bend your head a little, I can't reach." To his surprise, Smaug bent his head down, letting his curls fall as they may, and Bilbo could feel the hot dragon's breath brushing over his feet as he stood there between his legs. He set to work deftly, carefully parting tangled curls and letting his gentle fingers search the dragon's scalp for the goose egg he presumed was there.
Smaug hissed wordlessly as Bilbo's fingers ran over a hot patch of raised skin and the hobbit froze, feeling a hand grasp his ankle. "There." Smaug rumbled, slowly unclenching his bruising grip, and Bilbo cupped Smaug's head with his free hand while he traced its edge to grasp the size of the bump.
"Alright," Bilbo said, "I'll be right back." and suddenly he was in the kitchen and chipping a few flecks off the great block keeping his larder cool. He packed them into a piece of linen, quickly returning, and he rested it carefully on the area of curls he'd parted to ease the pain. Smaug gripped his calf tightly, not tight enough to bruise, but it hurt and Bilbo let it because he didn't doubt that the pain in Smaug's head was worse. "Keep it on until it melts, otherwise you'll have a great goose egg tomorrow." He tried to back away, lifting his hands from the dragon's head, but he had a fast grip on Bilbo's legs and the hobbit was stuck.
"Keep doing that." Smaug growled, glancing at Bilbo through a curtain of hair. "I enjoy it immensely." He turned his gaze away, nudging Bilbo's chest with his head, and the hobbit hesitantly brought his hands back to the mass of dirty curls in front of him. He waited a few seconds of toying with them, feeling the grip on his legs loosen but not release, to make a protest.
"I can't stand here all day." Bilbo said quietly, carefully tracing the bump. He expected to be released, not manipulated into sitting on the floor. He expected to be allowed to go on with his day, instead of spending his afternoon toying with the curls of a sleeping dragon. Most of all, he never expected to be given a lap full of dragon wanting to be petted and coddled while the ice melted and soothed his throbbing head.