CHAPTER ELEVEN
~ Bothersome ~

Bilbo was surrounded by soothing, searing heat. It had sunken into his bones some time ago, burning away the chills that had sought to make camp there, but now it was burning through him slowly like some kind of pleasant torture. The hobbit shifted uncomfortably, but some enormous limbs were enough to pin him under the blanket and to the floor.

"Nnngh." Bilbo groaned, wriggling in the confines of his sheets. "hrrk. Ugh-" He froze; a shattering headache rocked his world, making him curl up tighter against the wall of immovable heat. "oww..."

"Thiefling?" Bilbo's world shifted, uncoiling and suddenly he was free. Cracking open crusty eyes, the hobbit saw his dragon houseguest looming over him in the light of the dying fire. His face caught the shadows like a trap and it gave his features a harsh outline of pitch black.

In the boozy, delusional fog, Smaug's eyes seemed bottomless.

"Oh..." Bilbo flinched when a log broke and closed his eyes tight. "shhh." His head throbbed like a second heart, pounding against his skull for release, and it felt like the bone was beginning to split. "What's going on?"

"We were sleeping," Smaug murmured, settling down on the floor and staring at him keenly. "however, you grew restless and woke me."

Bilbo grunted wordlessly, clutching his head with both hands, and he sleepily tried to comfort himself by stroking the backs of his pointed ears. "My head hurts..."

"Sleep,"

"The floor is haaaard..." Bilbo whined, letting his arms go limp. "I need to go to bed..."

"And what do you think this is?" Smaug rose to his full height, his eyes lit, and spread his arms wide to gesture to the mass of coverlets, quilts and throw pillows. Bilbo sat up woozily, holding his head, and examined the pile; all the guest beds had obviously been stripped, his as well, and each shiny coverlet was face-up and glistening in the fading fire.

Pillows provided support and stability, a little circle to contain it all, and Bilbo soon realized that it wasn't all that uncomfortable. He was warm, and cozy, and the pile felt safer than his bed did sometimes; there was no possibility of falling off it now.

Bilbo looked back up at Smaug, looming and simmering in the silence, and he felt his head spin again. The man-shaped dragon was trailing smoke from both nostrils, looking both annoyed and anxious, and a loud snarl made a puff of black hide his face.

"Well, thiefling?" He rumbled, leaning forward until his belly scales –the few patches he'd retained- caught the light.

"A nest."

Smaug practically dove down into the covers, burying himself in them like it was gold beside the hobbit, and chuffed: "Exactly."

"'Exactly'? What?" Bilbo's poor mind didn't quite understand.

"A nest is perfectly natural for sleeping in, my thief; only those filthy men seek other comforts than those of their brooding." Smaug rolled and slithered into a more comfortable position, sighing faintly, and popped his shoulders. "It is barbaric, really,"

"What is?" The dragon's vague, condescending speech didn't help Bilbo's hangover. "I don't understand."

"To leave your brooding instincts behind so carelessly." Smaug snorted, "The sires of mankind must be foolish indeed to let their young seek shelter already provided. All that could be needed is within the walls of a truly respectable nest."

"Food?" "It comes." Smaug simmered, "Seekers of fame, lazy and fat."

"Gold? What about treasure?" Bilbo tried.

"The nest is treasure, thiefling." Smaug looked at him and, even from upside down, it felt like he was being treated like a child with obvious questions.

"Mates," Bilbo tossed out casually. "there must be something a nest doesn't have."

"It is the nest that attracts the mate, thiefling." Smaug's eyes gleamed golden. "The gold, the jewels, a waistcoat of diamonds... the nest is all things. Surely your hole here is illustrative of such wisdoms, even if it lacks the finery of my mountain."

"Well," Bilbo frowned at the dragon, unable to deny that the heap of blankets was comfortable, and got up queasily. "you may be right. For now, I'm off to bed. I need to sleep this off,"

"WHAT?" Smaug was up and around him suddenly. A nose brushed his hair and limbs held him close. "No!" The roar was almost fierce, but the outrage and disappointment caught Bilbo's attention. "You are not allowed!"

"Shhh..." Bilbo whined, covering his ears as best he could.

Smaug lowered his thunderous voice to a hiss. "I refuse to allow you to migrate to your little thief bed and out of my surveillance, thiefling. As my host, you are to attend me."

Bilbo groaned: "Don't be such a baby."

"I am not a baby!" Smaug growled, his chest hot against Bilbo's back. "Stay here! You can't leave!"

"Stop it, Smaug," Bilbo sighed. "this is ridiculous."

"Noooo..." Smaug's weight leaned hard on his back and the hobbit's drunken temper flared.

"You're whining, Smaug. You're supposed to be the greatest calamity of my age and you are whining." He looked over at the chin resting on his shoulder and scowled crossly: "You know who whines? Babies. Now get off me."

To the hobbit's surprise and pleasure, Smaug allowed him to get up and gaped mutely at him from the floor. As the dragon's silence continued, Bilbo decided he'd take advantage of the rare opportunity. "I am going to bed." Bilbo said firmly. "I cannot sleep on my living room floor again. My back will ache. If you need my help, sniff me out, or whatever dragons do, and wake me up." Bilbo turned on his heels, trying not to gag, and shuffled back to his room. He heard the dragon follow a ways, not giving him any attention, and tossed himself onto his bed with a sigh.

He was quickly floating on his soft mattress all the way to sleep. However, his blissful smile fell when something warm coiled around him and roused him. He turned to see what his houseguest could want, but as soon as he met Smaug's eyes Bilbo froze.

He looked like a predator. His diamond-like pupils were narrow and they were both breathing so shallowly it was as if no one were moving. His head suddenly cocked to one side –the most dragon-like thing he'd done in all the time he'd been there- and a thin spiral of smoke left his nose as he stared wordlessly at Bilbo like he was a steak.

Bilbo waited, his chest tight, until he couldn't take it anymore, and then he sat up. Smaug's eyes practically pinned him down but he managed to scoot up a little and, steeling himself for the worst, reach out a shaky hand.

"Smaug?"

"..." That dazed, predatory stare and his guest's silence made the hobbit nervous. Was he sleepwalking? Could dragons sleepwalk? He kept his hand out, licking his lips to wet the parched skin, and he let a stillness fall between them like wet mortar.

Suddenly, Smaug's head dipped and Bilbo's fingers met rich, if not greasy, curls; the man pushed forward, letting Bilbo's hand trail along the pronounced vertebrae of his new skin with a long, deep rumble. Bilbo was stuck with a dragon throw blanket and, tracing the vertebrae instead of combing through curls, the hobbits weary mind soon turned the spines to mountains.

And from mountains to their king.

"Balin," Bilbo called to the white-bearded dwarf as he caught sight of him. "Where's Thorin?"

"You checked the throne room?" Balin asked,

"And the library." Bilbo nodded, "And I asked Dwalin. And I checked the treasure hall. I can't find him." The hobbit hadn't exaggerated; his rounds of Erebor's restored areas had been all for naught, and the rest of the dwarves had been of no help in locating the leader of their company. "It's like he's hiding from me or something."

"Well," Balin frowned slightly and glanced down. "I don't know, lad. If he's not there, he could be... no, not at this age."

"What?" Bilbo pressed the old dwarf for information. "Please, Balin, someone needs to rein Fili and Kili in, and Dwalin won't help me!"

"As a lad, Thorin was always skipping stones across the buried river below the main halls." Balin said reluctantly, leaning closer as if it were some great secret. "He might be down there, if you really need him."

Bilbo smiled: 'Thank you, Balin! I'll go check right now!"

"Do you want me to take you down?" Bilbo shook his head as he hurried back toward the descending staircase. "Are you sure?"

"No, no!" Bilbo cried, starting down the steps. "I'll be fine!" Or so he'd thought. The deeper Bilbo went, the darker it got, and soon Bilbo was quite lost in the deep darks of Erebor's buried chambers. He wandered a little further, seeing no end to the darkness except behind him, and groaned loudly at his misfortune. "I'm lost!" He shouted, biting his lip as his voice echoed. "HELP!"

His echo was the only reply, a forlorn, faded rendition of his plea that made his stomach twist uncomfortably. No one was nearly, and Bilbo had told only Balin where he was going; it could be almost the entire day before they realized he was gone and then maybe two more before they located him! Bilbo took a deep breath: "HELP! HEELLL-" "Bilbo?"

The hobbit jumped, turned around in the near-total darkness, and broke out into a tight, relieved grin. "Thorin! Oh bless my smials, it's you! I thought I was going to be lost down here all day!"

"What brings you all the way down here?" Thorin questioned, his broad shoulder set hard. "I don't remember showing you this portion of the halls... why are you here?" His question was sharp, as Thorin always was, but Bilbo winced a little unseen as the bite of his companion's question caught his heart in its teeth.

"It's the boys." Bilbo said quickly, "Fili and Kili are-" "What happened?" Thorin hands fell on each of Bilbo's shoulders, gripping tight, and suddenly a small lamp illuminated their faces- the light cast deep grooves in the anxious face of the King Under the Mountain. "Are they alright?! Are we under attack!? I heard no alarms or-"

Bilbo put a hand over each of Thorin's, feeling his fingers dig in harshly. "No, no! Everything is fine! They're just being a nuisance, and Bofur and I need your help setting them straight. You said they needed to take responsibility for being princes, and they're acting more like animals today. They're absolutely uncontrollable." He felt a deep dread for scaring Thorin so badly, but soon the fear burned away in the lamplight and left only wise understanding.

"I see." Thorin said, releasing Bilbo to pick up the lantern. "Then let us go. It's no use letting them terrorize the company when so much work is still needed to be done. Perhaps a few hours of breaking stone will even out their temperaments." He took off steadily into the darkness from which Bilbo had come, his bulk disguising the lantern glow, and Bilbo squawked wordlessly when he lost sight of the king after only a few minutes.

"THORIN?!" Bilbo tripped in the dark, unable to see the offending stone before one hairy toe struck it hard. He tumbled forward with a short shriek of terror, expecting a harsher attack on his little person, but strong hands kept him off the stone.

"Be careful. The floor is uneven," Thorin said, holding the light nearer.

"-and your lamp is not bright enough." Bilbo insisted stubbornly, pulling back out of the dwarf king's grip. "I can't see a thing!" He pushed his hair back from his face, frustrated by the long curls in his eyes, and was surprised to see Thorin smiling at him. The gesture smoothed the worry lines of his forehead and crinkled the corners of his eyes gently, lighting up his face like a lamp. "What's so funny?"

"Hobbits," Shaking his head, Thorin caught one of the hands tangled in his curls and zipped his fingers into Bilbo's casually. "let's get moving then, before my sister-sons run the others into the bedrock." His palm was warm against his –weathered and harsh, but comfortingly rough with calluses and work- and he pulled the hobbit close to walk alongside him.

"I-I... right." Bilbo nodded shortly, feeling curls fall in his face again, but was too embarrassed to push them back. "You're right. Up we go. Ori must be fed up with them by now..." He let the king lead him down the dark tunnel, his eyes cast down from the warrior's face, and Bilbo couldn't help but notice that Thorin was trailing his fingers along the wall instead of lighting the way, He held him curiosity silent for a few minutes, walking hand-in-hand with the kind under the mountain as if they were hardly of age and courting behind their parents' backs.

Eventually Bilbo couldn't help himself. "Why do you have a lantern if you're not going to use it?" He spared a glance at the dwarf's face; it was calm, younger-looking than it had in years, and made Bilbo feel all warm inside.

"I need no light. These halls were my womb- my home, Bilbo Baggins, shows me the way when the lights go out. This lantern is of no more than habit," To make his point, Thorin snuffed the dim glow and led Bilbo on in the black. "but as you can tell, I had little use for it in my halls. My heart remembers this stone."

"Really?" Bilbo shouldn't have been surprised, but he was, and he groped blindly for the other wall out of curiosity. Thorin didn't let go, but he let Bilbo venture out, the tips of his fingers brushing against smooth stone. "Thorin, that is... brilliant. I've never heard of anything like that before, not even in all of my books!"

"'Brilliant'?" Thorin stopped, sounding so shocked, and Bilbo could almost feel his companion's eyes when they fell on him. "It is expected of any dwarf male to speak to the Mother Mountain, Bilbo. There is nothing so 'fantastic' about my skill... I am hardly the most skilled." Bilbo nearly laughed. "It's been a long time. I need my hand still to hear Her speak to me... I once knew how to merely walk and let Her guide me."

Bilbo snatched his hand away from the wall and laughed quietly. "It's still amazing to me. I can't do anything like that; I'm almost useless in the dark." He could feel Thorin watching, and they were just standing together i the dark; Bilbo's palms began to sweat. All he could think of was how indecent it was to be in their positions and he swallowed harshly.

"Thank you, Bilbo," Thorin said, his voice as rich and warm as Bilbo knew his smile would be. "it has been a long time since someone beyond the line of Durin has spoken so sincerely to me." Flushing up to his ears, Bilbo muttered a reply nonsensically and looked down where his hairy toes should have been. Something brushed a few ringlets from his face and Bilbo wondered briefly how well the dwarf could see, but then they were walking again and his tongue was tied. He decided privately that, even if he couldn't see anything, this would be one of the memories of Erebor that Bilbo would treasure.

Bilbo didn't realize he'd started to hum until, roused from his thoughts by the growl of his stomach, his throat protested. He left the dragon's curls alone, rubbing his sore throat gingerly, and cleared it twice.

"Did I bid you to stop, thiefling?' Smaug asked snarkily, opening one eye. He had piled himself and his nest onto Bilbo and his bed, settling in, and Bilbo had to admit that the extra warmth in the cold winter was very welcome.

"No," Bilbo scowled. "but I don't sing for you."

"Don't you?" Smaug rumbled.

"No." Bilbo stood firm and sat up, pushing the dragon man's head from his lap resolutely as he swung his legs out over the edge. "I have only sung for one man," –Images of Thorin flooded Bilbo's brain and made him pause. "and you are not him."

"Oh?' Smaug's nostrils flared as he sat up, following the hobbit around his bedroom as he collected a set of clean clothes for himself to wear.

"Bilbo blushed: 'None of your business!" and he secluded himself in his bathroom to bathe and change in some semblance of peace and normalcy.

"IS HE A THIEF LIKE YOU?" Smaug shouted, interrogating him through the door.

"NO!" Bilbo shouted back, singing down low in the bathwater with a scowl.

"A WARRIOR, THEN!" Smaug sounded a bit amused by the idea. "ONE TO DEFEND YOUR HONOUR, PERHAPS!" Bilbo, on the other side of the door, was not.

"WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?"

Smaug chuckled. "A warrior, indeed. HE MUST BE GREAT TO HAVE EARNED YOUR AFFECTIONS, THIEFLING! A MAN OF LAKETOWN?"

"GOOD LORD NO!" Bilbo cried, disgusted. "I WOULD NEVER-"

"AN ELF?" Smaug asked persistently. He wasn't taking the 'no' very well, it seemed. "IS THIS MAN AN ELF, THIEF?" He was too determined to get answers and Bilbo picked up on the dragon's intentions almost immediately after he tried to narrow down Bilbo's mystery man by his race.

"I'M NOT PLAYING THIS GAME WITH YOU, SMAUG!" Bilbo declared loudly s he abandoned his bathtub angrily, toweling off and tugging on his clothes with a hot face and a furrowed brow. He threw open the door, missing the tall man by inches, and stalked past him. "I'M GOING FOR A WALK!" He took a coat from one hall closet, passing the dragon by sourly, and stomped toward the front door moodily. Smaug followed him, easily keeping pace with the hobbit's tiny legs, and smiled wickedly when Bilbo glared up at him. "I'll go with you."