Potential Chapter 15: Earn It Back, a hobbit fanfic

"I would never."
Unable to think of anything to say, Bilbo ducked his head and blushed heavily.

-J.R.R. Tolkien-

Smaug's declaration was endearing -Bilbo felt his heart melt a little from its earlier cold fear- but the hobbit stood fast. He wasn't about to let the dragon huff and puff and then sidle back up to his good side again. Bilbo leaned back, scowling at Smaug deeply, and he wriggled in the dragon's grasp resolutely.

"Put me down."

Bilbo could see it in Smaug's eyes; why should he put him down? He dared the dragon not to comply, crossing his arms over his little chest, and the greedy glint died only until the turn of his head exposed the tiny plait behind his ear.

"What is this?" Smaug caught it between two slender fingers, untucking it from its hiding place and exposing the silver clip to the light. His breath hissed inwards, so serpentine in his disapproval, but Bilbo reclaimed the braid and tucked it back behind his pointed ear seriously.

"It's a braid I received before I left Erebor." Bilbo told him honestly. "I am a dwarf-friend, and this is that mark, among other things." He saw Smaug's eyes flicker across his exposed skin searchingly, though he remained silent to hear Bilbo speak, and the hobbit patted his face to get the man's attention.

He looked up. "Where-?"

"My winter coat bears the crest of Erebor across the back." Bilbo told him. "My name is chronicled in their halls. 'The people of Erebor will not bandy with my name lightly.'" Bilbo couldn't help but smile at the idea that a hobbit would be so famous among the dwarves. "Things like that."

"I see." Smaug muttered, still holding Bilbo tightly.

"Then put me down." Bilbo insisted, trying to keep his new smile in place.

"If you've broken ranks with Oakenshield, why maintain such trinkets?" Smaug was insatiable, and Bilbo's heart dropped like a stone.

"I may have left because of that fool, but I won't disregard the others so lightly." Bilbo explained, "Their friendships with me hold, even if I burned my bridges with their leader." The hobbit was surprised with his own bitterness, but couldn't deny that the dwarf king had earned every venomous scrap of it. How dare he break his promise and expect Bilbo to remain; he knew what the gold and the King's Jewel would do.

"Then why not simply undo this?" Smaug twirled the plait around one finger. "It serves no purpose the others do not from your description…"

"I like it." Bilbo leaned away from the touch. "it's something I value."

"Hm…" Smaug stared hard at the glittering clasp until Bilbo's uncomfortable squirming against his hipbone broke his concentration. "this plait seems most practical, for all it's dwarf origins."

"I agree," Bilbo scowled again and shoved him. "now put me down!"

"I should much like some, thiefling." Smaug said resolutely, tossing his head to demonstrate the great lengths of unbound curls to him. "My hair seems to be in distress."

Bilbo stared at Smaug seriously as his hair filled his field of vision and his lips twitched when he saw that his hair was in great distress. Greasy and long, it hung around him like a great shaggy mane and shone with oil in the hall lights. "Good gracious, it is." Bilbo grumbled, running a hand through the curls and coming away with slippery fingers. "You can't look like this when Lily comes, or she'll think you're some kind of loony."

"'Lily'?" Smaug frowned as well. "Who is 'Lily'? Explain this to me, thiefling. What manner of creature have you brought into our little mountain, thief?"

"Lily is a fine hobbit!" Bilbo protested, finally wriggling free of his houseguest's grasp. He fell to the floor, his rump hitting hard, and he raised an eyebrow at the dragon.

"'Hobbit'?" Smaug repeated curiously. "What is a 'hobbit'?"

"I'm a hobbit!" Bilbo scoffed, getting to his feet and letting a cold shiver run through him. He could still feel the snow on his bare feet, the icy chill of the wind on his face, and he grimaced faintly at it.

"No, you are a thief; a burglar; my little thiefling." Smaug didn't believe him, and Bilbo sighed.

"I was a burglar by profession. I am a hobbit- a halfing. You know, Shire folk. Are you a calamity?"

Smaug snorted, throwing his shoulders back. "No, I'm a dragon." His posturing made Bilbo stare; he needed his wings to complete it, but the proud jutting of his chest was not missed.

"Exactly," Bilbo straightened his robe and dusted it off sourly. "Lily and I are hobbits -respectable hobbits, mind you- and I won't have you looking like a tramp when she comes for a visit! Come on!" Shuffling down his hallway on aching feet, Bilbo waved Smaug along after him without any chance of refusal. He sauntered into the main bathroom seriously, turning both nozzles and kick-starting the water with expert precision, and Smaug lingered behind him uncertainly as he ran a tub full of water.

"What sorcery are you working, little thief?" Smaug hissed, his eyes narrowed as he approached cautiously. "I was unaware that your little mountain had access to the springs below." He peered over Bilbo's shoulder anxiously, barely stepping aside to let him move past again, and raised an eyebrow at the hobbit's departure. "Where are you going?"

"To get towels." Bilbo said shortly. "And another pair of pants." He didn't respond to any of the other questions, too focuses on what he was doing, and soon he had returned to his bedroom and closed the door.

'What am I going to do?' He asked himself. 'Bathe a dragon in man form? Preposterous. What could I do?' Shaking his curly head at the idea of it, Bilbo tugged at the tie of his robe to pull on a new pair of trousers and a fresh shirt. He felt ridiculous, assuming he could just clean the dragon up and get him and their patched-up 'friendship' presentable for when Lily shows up, and he felt even more ridiculous for thinking that Smaug would let him do either of those things.

Slowly Bilbo worked his stiff limbs into the new clothes, his hands shaking a little, and he took a lot longer than he'd expected to put them all on again. He needed to change his pants, since they were soaked with snow as well, and as soon as he slid his trousers up over them he could feel the warmth that a second layer gave him. It also showed him just how cold he really was; his skin was almost entirely numb to the softness of the fabric.

Cursing his own cold skin, Bilbo picked out a shirt and struggled into it harshly, his joints aching and his entire body becoming alive again with the burning sensation of life. He forwent the laces of his shirt, leaving it open and letting the warm air of his hobbit hole flow between his skin and the cotton to help him warm up faster.

That and his fingers were beginning to get so sore that he could hardly do them up.

"I hate the cold!" Bilbo snorted sourly, rubbing his arms with his hands to get his blood flowing again. "Cold… wet… ugh!"

"Thiefling?" Smaug's voice snapped him out of his grumbling and complaining to himself. He stopped in his tracks and looked up, his eyes suddenly wide, and he jumped a little when he saw his houseguest standing there where he didn't expect him. "You are lingering… I believe the water cools if you wish to continue with your bathing ritual."

He laughed at the idea, although the more he thought about it the better it sounded, and he sauntered back toward the bathroom. He let Smaug follow, too close for comfort, and led the dragon all the way back to the bathroom where the bathtub was waiting.

"My bathing ritual?" Bilbo snorted, ruffling his own hair and snuffling slightly. "No, no, this bath is yours." He held the door open as Smaug passed, wanting nothing more than to curl up by a fire, but as quickly as he was in the dragon was out of the bathroom.

"NO!" Smaug was not up for that. "I AM NOT GETTING IN THAT MONSTROSITY, THIEFLING! YOU CANNOT MAKE ME!"

"I very well can!" Bilbo shouted back, fisting one hands at his side and waving an accusing finger at him angrily. "You will not embarrass me in front of my neighbors!" He turned around, trying to grab at the flapping front of his most recently-ruined shirt, but the dragon was quick and he dodged out of the way before Bilbo could come close. "Smaug, come here!"

"NO!" The dragon's voice was already way down the hall. "YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" His footsteps were obvious and you could hear him make his way far from Bilbo, and Bilbo's temper took a turn for the worst.

"COME BACK HERE!" Bilbo took off running, his body protesting the sudden strain almost immediately. "SMAUG!" He tried following his ears, the pitter-patter of his feet nearly drowned out by the louder footsteps, but his hobbit hole was echoing with them and it was almost-totally impossible. "STOP ACTING LIKE A BABY!" He demanded. "IT'S JUST WATER!"

"Water!" Smaug repeated derisively, "'Just water'! Are you utterly insane?! I AM A DRAGON! WATER IS DEATH!" His silhouette briefly passed the mouth of a hallway, his shadow unmistakable, but when Bilbo chased it he disappeared.

"I'm not going to drown you!" Bilbo said insistently, trying to stop their shouting. "I'm just-"

"LIES!" Smaug roared, unseen but definitely close by. "YOU LIE!"

"Why would I lie?!" Bilbo's heart beat fast. "Smaug, you're acting crazy! What reason could I have to-" "YOU WANT ME OUT! I AM NOT WELCOME HERE, AND YOU WOULD OUST ME AT FIRST OPPORTUNITY!" Smaug's paranoia was not unjustified, but Bilbo was insulted all the same. Hobbits were known and respected for their hospitality and good will to their house and dinner guests, and Smaug's complaint was the social version of a disaster. "I SEE YOUR WILES, THIEFLING!"

"'Wiles'?" Bilbo's throat hurt from all his shouting. "Smaug, you said yourself that your hair is not good. It's greasy and tangled, and much too long. I am just trying to help!" His voice cracked near the end and Bilbo coughed a little. "Let's stop this now… I promise I'll be quick."

"Indeed, you would." Slinking around the corner with his eyes narrow slits, the dragon in man form approached him warily. "Why should I trust you, thiefling?" He stood tall, towering over Bilbo imposingly, but the hobbit stood firm in the face of his posturing.

"Because," Bilbo said firmly. "who else will you trust?" He refused to look away from Smaug's golden eyes frowning at his houseguest's distrust, and suddenly the glare disappeared and he leaned into Bilbo's personal space without reserve.

"Tricky, thief, very tricky." He grumbled.

"But no less true." Bilbo said daringly. "I am your host for the time being, and you chose me, don't forget." He wasn't giving up the little squabbles; he had a chance of winning those. "I didn't show up and drag you here. You tracked me down."

Smaug sniffed. "Your riddles intrigued me."

"Uh-huh." Bilbo put both hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Do not patronize me, thiefling." Smaug said lowly. "I do not like it."

"Then don't shout at me." Bilbo snapped back, toeing the line in his mind that lay between them. "I don't like it either."

"I will not be ordered about by you, thief!" Smaug puffed out his chest and stared down his nose at Bilbo, making his knees quiver.

"I must say the same!" Bilbo could feel himself crossing that invisible line now and sweat beaded on the back of his neck. "Don't boss me about! I am not your slave!"

"Aren't you?" Smaug's question was the last straw.

"NO, I'M NOT!" Bilbo declared, waving a finger in front of the dragon's face. "I AM YOUR HOST! YOU ARE MY GUEST! AND MY NEIGHBORS AND I THOUGHT-" Bilbo stopped himself and, screwing up his face, turned his back on the dragon. "never mind. Do as you like, oh _ _."

"What?" Smaug asked, curiosity piqued. "What is it, thief?" He circled Bilbo like a tiger ready to pounce, his curiosity dusting the anger from his brow like salt on a ledge, and his enthusiasm was almost innocent enough to melt Bilbo's resolve. "Tell me, thiefling, what is it?"

"No." Bilbo said sharply, not noticing when Smaug flinched back from the razor edge to his usually-jolly voice. "It doesn't matter. Go… wash your hair, or something." Waving a hand dismissively at his guest, Bilbo tried to walk away from a bad situation, but found his fingers suddenly wrapped in warmer ones and his entire little hand enclosed in warm skin.
He looked back at Smaug and bumped foreheads with him again. "Ow!"

"Thiefling…" Smaug tossed his limp hair out of his face, frowning at it momentarily, and focused his eyes on Bilbo. "I do not know how." His gold eyes are wide, locked with his, and Bilbo sighs heavily as his tense shoulders drop and he gives in to the pleading amber stare.

"Alright, you big lizard," Bilbo grumbled, leading Smaug back to the bathroom by the hand trapped in the dragon's grasp. "I'll help you just this once." He doubts it will really be 'just this once', and he sighs at the idea of washing Smaug's hair every few days but doesn't doubt that it will probably happen.

"Hm." Smaug's little affirmative noise rolls through the bathroom air, making Bilbo loll his head in acknowledgement, and the hobbit gathers a few soaps from his cupboard reluctantly. Should he try and find something unscented? Would the dragon disapprove of the flowery scents or the fruity foams? Should he just skip them all and dive for the woodier soaps?

However, before he could really give it thought there was a great splashing and a wave of warm water lapped at his hairy heels. Bilbo jumped, giving a small yelp, and turned to see Smaug getting comfortable in the too-small basin, fully-clothed, and his fear and surprise turned into a great laugh.

Smaug looked up, frowning. "What?"

"You take off your clothes first!" Bilbo cackled, clutching his sides at the sopping wet shirt clinging to his houseguest and how much of a trial it would be to try and change afterwards. "What are you doing?!"

"I'm bathing." Smaug snorted and held his head high. "You fleshy mortals are so fond of your coverings that…" Bilbo swore pink crawled across the dragon's face, but suddenly a wave of dark hair blocked his view. "Are you going to help me or not?" Smaug muttered.

"Oh, calm down." Bilbo's laugh disappeared. He swept a bottle of soap off the sink and shrugged it off as the best option as he approached the dragon in his bathtub. "I was just finding something to wash it with. No need to get snippy, Mister 'I-am-fire'." He quickly rolled up his sleeves high, firmly putting the soap in Smaug's unoccupied hands and taking it back just as quickly.

"I am not 'snippy'." Smaug said lowly, something Bilbo could only think of as a pout, but he couldn't quite equate pouting with the greatest calamity of his age. "I am merely cross with sitting in this tiny lake."

"Well, I wasn't the one who got you in the tub now, am I?" Bilbo said cheekily, working up a bit of lather with the soap and the bathwater absently. He wasn't really paying attention to Smaug yet, but he didn't feel like he needed to. "I just brought you in here to get ready. You didn't even have to get in it; we just need to fix your hair."

"Now you tell me!" Throwing up his hands in an utterly human gesture, Smaug sank low in the water, sloshing it all over the floor, and Bilbo spluttered as one wave caught him by surprise.

"Oi!" He blurted, "Watch it! No splashing!"

"What are you going to do? Stop me?" Another splash soaked Bilbo's shirt through and he fumed quietly, not warm enough to be able to really disregard being soaked long enough to wash the dragon's hair to respectable standards

"Would you stop being a pain?" Bilbo asked, his tone sugary-sweet. "Just this once?"

"I'd rather not, actually," Smaug purred back, his smile wicked. He wasn't sorry; not in the least. "I'm rather enjoying myself."

"Of course you are," Bilbo sighed, "Why wouldn't you be?" Feeling a wave of childish humor take him, Bilbo leaned in and got his guest right in his smugly-smiling face with a hobbit's handful of warm bath water. Smaug dropped his smug smile immediately, shocked, and Bilbo laughed- he looked like he had slapped him across the face.

Suddenly, another wave caught Bilbo's curls and his retaliation got his wetter than ever. A glint passed between them in a brief moment of eye contact and, drawn to the challenge, they splashed each other until the bath water was all but spent.

"There." Smaug grunted, pushing at Bilbo's head to get his attention away from his drenched clothes. "The water is gone."

"But your hair is still disgusting," Bilbo pointed out. "and now the whole room is soaked."

A droplet fell in the silence between them, impossibly loud.

"Oh…" Smaug looked a little pale. "well then, refill the bath, thiefling." He got comfortable in the porcelain basin, looking quite content with his new white throne, and Bilbo scowled.
And then he turned the cold water tap as far as he could in one turn, sending a rocket of icy fluid all over Smaug's lap and chest.

"COLD!" Smaug scrambled to the far end of the tub, balancing and lifting himself out of the water by bracing his feet and hands on the edge of the bathtub like a spider or a crab. "COLD! THIIIEEEEFFF!"

Bilbo turned it off. "Yes?" His smile was uncharacteristically wicked, and Smaug stared at him for a moment, taken aback and absolutely done playing with him. "Is something wrong?"

"You…" Smaug's teeth chattered as he flipped over, clenching his hands on the rim of the tub. "are most iniquitous. How your species survives, I know not."

"Oh, ouch. Well then," Bilbo shrugged, ringing his shirtfront out calmly and wrung out his longer curls. "I suppose you can wash your own hair." Smaug froze, rearing back a little as he watched Bilbo nonchalantly wrap himself in a fluffy towel and step back a bit, putting more than arm's reach between them. He waited nd waited for Bilbo to come back, thinking he could intimidate the hobbit into the task, but as he puffed out his chest Bilbo only got farther away.

"Thiefling…" Smaug stopped Bilbo's retreat and waited uneasily for him to take the towel off his curly head, spilling the ringlets around his face like handfuls of crisp autumn leaves. "wash my hair."

"No." Bilbo rubbed his curls with his towel again, distracting Smaug's focus for a moment. "I don't want to."

"What do you mean, 'no'?!" Smaug blurted, leaning so far over the edge that it was surprising that he didn't-
Smaug howled shortly as his balance failed him and, losing his grip on te slippery tub, Smaug fell forward and hit the floor hard. He crumpled onto the flor, hi feet still hooked o the rim, and groaned once in the shock-laden silence- the sound drew itself out across the space between them and Bilbo choked.

"OH MY SMIALS!" He was there in a flash, concern lacing his eyes with diamond tears. "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!" His small hands fluttered around him uselessly, shaking with worry, and for all his sassy talk Bilbo was useless until the dragon spoke.

"I am fine." Smaug mumbled, curling up his sinewy body and pushing himself up on his hands with a wince. His weight shifted –Bilbo could see it- and he let his right arm bear all his weight as subtly as he could without making the pain obvious.

"No," Bilbo reached out and Smaug shied away, giving Bilbo his right side like an injured animal. Smaug babied his left arm. "your left shoulder hit hard. Let me see."

"Nonsense." Smaug snorted and tossed his head, the thick mat of wet hair slapping against his back, and Bilbo snorted in return when the hit made the dragon twitch. "I am Smaug. I am a dragon. I am-"

"Oh, stop it." Bilbo got close and fisted a hand in the dark strands firmly to prevent Smaug from getting away. He tugged, drawing a growl from his houseguest, and suddenly Smaug was sitting in front of him and Bilbo had a knee on either side of his hips. He tugged again, the growl fading into the next, and Bilbo forced the dragon to lean back enough for him to see his shoulder blade properly. "I just…" He stood up and pulled the hair to one side. "want to see…" The red mark made him wince, his fingers hesitating above the warm skin. "if you're hurt."

Smaug froze, the red skin tensing, and Bilbo winced with him this time. His shoulder was already quite red and, if it already looked extremely painful, Bilbo couldn't imagine the pain that it must actually have been causing him. "You should be screaming!" Bilbo murmured, struck dumb by the dragon's resilience.

Smaug just made a disgruntled noise and turned his head a little, his shoulders hunched. "I must correct you. I am quite capable of tolerating a simple stumble." He didn't resist in the struggle any more than a scowl and he didn't flinch when Bilbo laid his hand on the swollen skin, but the hobbit felt his body shudder under his hand. "I am merely…"

"Whatever you say, oh Smaug the Magnificent." Bilbo didn't let the dragon find the word he was looking for. "Let's just get you dry. Your hair will be clean enough with all the water we used." The hobbit traded sheltering the man for fetching some towels, and soon Smaug was drier than Bilbo was and he had a set of new clothes to ruin in order to get dry.

"Now, just stay by the fire and I'll make something to eat." Bilbo said quickly, running another damp towel over himself to stop the dripping, and he hurried toward the door with it draped over his head. "You just… don't work your arm. You should keep it still and rest it!"

"I don't want anything." Smaug's fist in his shirt stopped him cold and Bilbo tensed.

He had openly-mocked Smaug.
And doused him in cold water.
And kept defying him over and over again!

"Uh…" Bilbo turned back and looked at him over his shoulder hesitantly, his hands still as stones.

"Come…" Smaug said quietly. "stay with me by the fire." He looked up at Bilbo, the gold hue of his eyes changed by the shadow of his thick lashes, and, in the pause pregnant with tension, he licked his lips. "Stay with me?"

Bilbo's shoulders dropped. Smaug had to be kidding; this was some scheme to lull him down, and then he was going to get it for being such an arrogant thief. Bilbo didn't trust him; he couldn't. Not after Erebor…

"Alright," Bilbo said softly, smiling a little.
Could he?