Life is Precious

AN: I didn't quite finish this last night, which is why I'm a day late. I got distracted by something yesterday, and before I knew it, five hours had passed, and...well... I ran out of time. On the bright side, I did get an extra thousand words done, so this is a bit longer than usual.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

Chapter Seven:

THIS WAS AN OUTRAGE!

As if being bound to a mere slip of a girl wasn't bad enough, now she was riding upon his back as if he were some overgrown horse! Did he even deserve to be called a dragon, anymore!? He was a proud drake once. 'Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities' he'd been known as. Now, though...

Now he was this girl's plaything, forced to obey her every whim.

Death would have been a far more choice preferable to this life of servitude. At least then, he would have died with his pride intact and his reputation unsullied. But he'd been given a choice, and this is what he chose. Fear of death had won, in the end, so he had chosen life with all strings attached.

He was not so proud as to deny that. This was his choice. But he still blamed the wizard for even giving him the choice. And he blamed the man who shot him with the black arrow for downing him. And he blamed the dwarves for ousting him from his mountain. If they hadn't come, he wouldn't have had to leave the mountain, which meant the man of Laketown wouldn't have shot him down, which meant the wizard wouldn't have found him, which meant this wouldn't be happening!

So yes, he was, in part, to blame for this situation he found himself in. But all the others held the majority of it. If not for their meddling, he'd still be sleeping comfortably upon his hoard in his mountain!

He growled his frustration to the world.

After that, he made no other noise. Instead, he simply fumed silently. The girl's physical weight was infinitesimal to him, but his scales seemed hypersensitive to her presence. What should have been an easily ignored nuisance was instead making his scales and skin crawl from the sheer wrongness of it all. And it was just in that one, singular spot! Everywhere else was fine, but all that served to do was to keep him hyperaware of her presence and how utterly wrong it felt.

Worse yet, he could feel every little fidget, every little shiver, and every little movement that she made. It was like an itch that wouldn't go away and that was impossible to scratch! Eventually, after only ten minutes of flying, he couldn't help himself. "Would you stop moving so much!?" he snapped, glaring back at her.

"Well, I'm sorry, but it's cold, and your scales are uncomfortable!" she replied.

He huffed and narrowed his gaze at the insult. "Dragons are not meant to be ridden," he reiterated, as if that explained everything, before looking ahead once more. Silence reigned for a while after that save for the wind whipping past his face and the occasional flap of his mighty wings. For a few minutes, she managed to keep still save for the odd shiver from the cold, but then he felt her lean forward and press her entire body into his neck as if...hugging him. "Now what are you doing!?"

Looking back, he saw that, indeed, she was laid flat against his neck. "It's cold, and you're warm!" was her muffled response. "Deal with it! Unless you want me to freeze to death!" He barely suppressed the urge to roll right then and there. Already that wrong feeling was spreading, but he didn't want to risk not catching her in his claws...or squishing her. She was quite small to grip with his feet. They were more meant for swooping down upon buildings or grabbing much larger animals like oliphants or even other dragons. "Why do you care so much, anyway? I'm tiny compared to you!"

"You make my scales itch and my skin crawl! And every time you move, the feeling amplifies!" he growled in response. "Dragons are not meant to be ridden," he repeated for the third time. "I am no beast of burden! I am a dragon! And dragons are proud creatures." He huffed again, a small plume of smoke leaving his nostrils. "Though I doubt very much that you care about my pride."

She was quiet for a moment, and he almost thought she wouldn't answer. But she did, and it was certainly an unexpected response. "I do." The simple reply took him by surprise, for sure. So much so, that he glanced back at her once more with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. She was sitting up again, the wind making her hair blow every which way. Even still, he could tell that she was looking him in the eye. "I do care about your feelings, Smaug. Why do you think I didn't force you to leave? You were afraid..." He bared his teeth in a snarl at that. "...even if I don't know why. I respected it, though, and allowed you to stay. I swear to you that I will do my best to keep your feelings in mind in the future, even your pride. But I have to save my father, and...well, I don't trust you enough to let you go alone."

He studied her for any sign of falseness but saw none. Her words were genuine, and he began to see her in a new light at that moment. He was beginning to see why he was bound to her out of every other being in the world if she actually cared about his prideful nature. And she respected his feelings. "You...intrigue me, girl." He left it at that, not bothering to wait for her reply before he turned away once more. She may be a nuisance, but at least she was an intriguing nuisance. He doubted there was another human in the entire world that would respect the feelings of a dragon of all creatures.

He still hated her, obviously. The fact he was bound to her was reason enough for that, and that wasn't even including all of the other slights she'd made against him. Like forcing him to sit in that valley for weeks on end, for example. Or simply daring to order him around and talk to him as if they were equals. That, in and of itself, was an insult. He was superior to her in every way, yet she believed them equal!? Preposterous!

At least she was interesting enough...for a human, anyway. This whole situation would certainly be much more unbearable if she was some pompous, arrogant windbag that constantly bragged about how she'd 'tamed' him.

Or if she was a male of any sort.

With her being a female, the insults were a bit more bearable. A man would try to dominate him, force him to bow and serve like a slave. Plus, male dragons simply cannot coexist with other males, of any race. This girl, however...if anything, he'd say she was trying to befriend him. A laughable and contemptuous effort, to be sure. She was nothing to him. Less than nothing, in fact! The only reason she was alive was because of this accursed bond!

But being stuck with her wasn't quite so bad as it could have been, he supposed. He could afford an ounce of gratitude for that. It still wouldn't stop him from killing her whenever this spell was broken.

Then again...maybe he would keep around. Let her live out her days as part of his hoard in suffering and grief knowing that everyone he killed during his vengeful rampage would be her fault. ...Having her harp at him endlessly might prove annoying, especially if he was trying to sleep.

Decisions...decisions...

As much as he loved plotting his revenge, he imagined that would be quite a while away. For now, the Anduin River was fast approaching. Spotting a mostly clear area from above, he turned and prepared to come in for a landing. The usually fearsome waters were nearly at a standstill. Only a small stream still flowed near the center, the rest frozen over. The snow, likewise, was deep enough for his wing-claws to sink into. It provided a soft enough landing for the girl when he tilted his neck enough for her to slide off with a short shriek.

Maybe he had been so deep in thought that the strange sensation had faded to the back of his mind, but now that he was thinking of it again, it began to itch so badly that it felt as if it burned. He hissed in discomfort, reaching his wing up to rub the spot with his claws. Suddenly, something small and cold impacted his neck, and he froze, a growl tearing its way out of his throat as he began to realize what had just happened. He turned his gaze to her slowly, his nostrils flaring in anger. "You would dare!?"

"Oh, lighten up, would you? It was just a snowball!" She huffed and crossed her arms in defiance. "Besides, you dumped me into a snow drift. Consider it my revenge."

He glared at her, incredulous and enraged. "You would speak to me of revenge?" he hissed. She had no chance to reply before he used his wing to throw a veritable mountain of snow on top of the impudent girl. He snorted derisively at the spot where she once stood. "The human dares to speak to me of revenge..." he muttered.

His victory was short-lived, however, for soon it began getting harder to breathe. After a few seconds of confusion, his heart stuttered. He snapped his gaze back the snow mountain in mounting terror as realization dawned upon him.

She couldn't breathe...and now, neither could he!

After a mere twenty seconds, he could barely get in enough air to keep conscious, and his heart seemed to skip every few beats. If he died because of this, and there actually was an afterlife for dragons, he'd be too ashamed to show his face there! Killed because he dumped a pile of snow onto a girl who threw a snowball at him! His name would be mocked for millennia to come!

With a swipe of his claws, most of the snow was flung away. With time running out and no better idea, he simply shoved his snout into the snow and rooted around until he found her, his panic increasing by the second as his vision began to dim. After a few more seconds, he felt something different in the snow, so gently, gently he clamped onto it with his teeth and pulled.

As soon as he saw her legs dangling above the snow, he set her down carefully. She began to cough violently, but air was coming back to both of them. Likewise, he felt his heart begin to beat steadily again. That...had been way too close. To think he almost died because of his own carelessness...

But he didn't let her see his fear. "Have we learned our lesson?" His voice came out as a hard rumble, as if he was scolding her for doing something stupid, which he technically was. She shouldn't have attacked him, after all.

"It was just...a stupid...snowball!" she shouted between coughs.

He slammed his wing-claws on the ground next to her, and she snapped her surprised, and somewhat fearful, gaze up to him as he looked down upon her imperiously. "An attack is an attack, no matter the weapon! And I do not allow such challenges to go unpunished!" he scolded her. Then, he moved his head until his eye was mere feet in front of her, and his voice dropped to a furious hiss. "I have killed men and boys for even drawing their weapon in front of me. Keep that in mind the next time you wish to test me, girl!" He glared at her for a moment longer, taking in her solemn expression at the reminder of what he was, before he snorted derisively and moved away from her to take in the landscape. The light from the half-moon wasn't particularly bright, especially with the occasional cloud blocking it, but he was a dragon. Dragons had excellent night vision.

The trees, save for the evergreens, had long since shed their leaves, their bare branches covered in snow and drooping icicles. The air was bitter cold, though the wind was calm save for the occasional light breeze. The snow was thick, up to a few feet deep in some spots. It reminded him of the northern winters, of the blustery conditions within the withered heath. Surely, these extremes were uncommon this far south. In fact, he decided to ask about it. "Are the winters in Rohan normally this bad?"

When she didn't answer immediately, he glanced down at her. She seemed surprised that they were back to civilized conversation so soon after his outburst. He couldn't help but snort in mild amusement. The girl had much to learn about dragons. Eventually, she shook her head of whatever thoughts were in it and answered. "No. I've seen bad winters, but nothing like this. Mother said this has been the worst winter in her memory."

He hummed in thought at that. Perhaps it was an omen. A sign of the Dark Lord's return? It mattered little to him. He had no intentions of being involved in any wars, especially not now. For the right price, he might have allied with Sauron had he succeeded in driving off the dwarves, but the girl changed things. Anyone who found out the truth could use her as leverage to control him, so he would take her away from those who would try. As long as she was safe, he was free.

Mostly.

Speaking of which, "Is there a specific area we need to search, or do you simply plan to wander up and down the river's banks aimlessly?"

She looked at him, then upstream, then downstream, then at him again. "Umm...I'm not sure. We flew straight north from Edoras, right?" He just glared at her in response. If they had flown straight north, they never would have reached the river, so he'd flown almost straight northeast. When he didn't answer, she shrugged. "All I know is that they rode north to the Anduin from Edoras. Beyond that, I have no idea where to go." He honestly wasn't sure if he should be angry or not. He was certainly surprised by her clear ineptitude as, apparently, she had expected them to wander the entire river aimlessly. "You know Middle-Earth better than I. Do you have any ideas?"

Of course she expected him to have all the answers. Why was he not surprised? A quick glance at the river confirmed that the banks here were too steep to make crossing easy. Even if they weren't, the ice near the center of the river was too thin to walk on. "If orcs are crossing the river into Rohan, they are not doing it here. They are likely coming from Mirkwood as Mordor is directly east from Edoras. There would surely be a safe crossing in the forests of Lorien, but I highly doubt they would be so foolish as to try there. Crossing too far upstream means they would also need to cross the River Limlight, so it is more likely that the crossing they used is farther downstream." He paused, realizing something. "But all of this is under the assumption that your sire was attacked near the river. There remains the distinct possibility that he wasn't."

"The soldiers that arrived in Edoras said they were attacked less than a day's ride from the river," she countered. "If we find where the orcs are crossing, we should be able to find where the attack happened. Right?"

He glared at her once again. "This is a waste of time, girl. The chances of your sire still drawing breath are slim at best."

Arms crossed, her expression shifted to one of defiance once again. "You said it yourself. There's still a chance. I'm not giving up so easily, and neither will you. Not while I'm here. Now lower your neck, so I can get on again." He growled but had no choice but to comply with her order. He remained motionless as he felt her climb up onto his neck once again, the feeling of wrongness and disgust coming back with a vengeance. "Alright, I'm on. Let's follow the river upstream."

Wordlessly, he took to the air once more.

They followed the river upstream as she wanted—by his own suggestion—at a leisurely pace. Since she couldn't see very well in the dark and from so high up, he kept his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. Not that he cared for her sire, obviously, but the thought of hunting orcs did appeal to him. At this point, that would be the only thing to make this entire trip worth the trouble.

Within his mind, he could picture the map of Middle-Earth perfectly. They had originally stopped just downstream from several large bends in the river. On a map, it looked like an 'S'. The River Limlight connected to the Anduin at the top of that 'S'. The large bend at the bottom, however, is where he suspected the orcs were crossing. It was a thinner part of the river, which meant strong currents when the river was flowing. With it frozen, however, it would be a perfect crossing.

Sure enough, as they approached that area of the river, there were signs of activity. Trees from the southern bank had been felled to make a crude bridge. There were no orcs there at the moment, unfortunately, so he made a sharp left turn, circling the area for the moment. There were very faint scents on the wind, but he couldn't tell what they were. They were simply too old and faded to make use of.

There were two possible choices to make here. Either he started flying as if heading back to Edoras and perhaps come across the site of the attack, or...he go north towards Mirkwood. It was the only place for the orcs to take prisoners that made sense. To buy himself more time to think, and perhaps find any further clues upon the ground, he landed upon the north bank. This time, the girl was hanging on too tight for him to dump off, so he let her stay where she was for now. Besides, they wouldn't be here long.

The scents down here were a bit stronger. Orcs were definitely here at some point, but not for at least a few days. To his genuine surprise, the scent seemed weaker to the north. He even took a few steps that way, wondering if the bridge was interfering with his sense of smell, but no. The further away he went, the weaker the scent became. A quick hop to the other side of the river confirmed it. The scent was marginally stronger on this side. The orcs hadn't crossed back over.

"What is it?" the girl asked.

"They haven't crossed back over the river," he replied absently. Then, to himself, he mumbled. "Where are you going? What haven have you on this side of the river?" The only possible answers he could think of were that they were heading for the Misty Mountains, but they could have gone straight west from Mirkwood if that were the case. Or they were heading towards Mordor and only crossed the river for easier access to food...which they already found. "I do believe your sire's fate is to be the orcs' next meal, girl...if he hasn't been eaten already."

"E-Eaten!?" The utter horror in her voice and expression made him grin. "No! There's still time!"

"Time?" he snorted. "What time do you think he has?"

She looked away, and he could tell she was trying desperately not to allow her emotions to get the better of her. "Even if he is dead..." she began quietly, her voice growing harder as she continued. "The orcs will die."

"Oh?" he chuckled darkly. "Well, I do so enjoy a good hunt." He lowered his neck voluntarily, taking her by surprise. No doubt she expected him to be stubborn about it, but there was no point. She'd simply order him to lower down, anyway. It was easier to just speed things up right now. They had orcs to hunt, after all.

Once she was back on, he took to the air once more, following the river downstream in Mordor's general direction. A quick glance at the moon's position showed it was maybe two hours past midnight. The orcs wouldn't be able to travel far on foot, and the scent on the bridge was only a few days old. Then again...the timing didn't coincide. It would have taken those riders a week or two to return to Edoras from the site of the attack. Perhaps the scent was from a more recent group?

The chances of finding the girl's sire alive were becoming slimmer by the moment, but he wasn't about to turn down an opportunity to hunt orcs.

They did have a massive head start on them. He guessed they could go anywhere between thirty and fifty miles a day on foot. If they did have a two weeks' headstart, that was between five hundred and seven hundred miles that they could have traveled. If that was the case, they'd definitely be in Mordor by now.

He explained his calculations to the girl as they flew, but she was still in denial. She was still defiant in her hope that they'd find him alive. "I will not go into Mordor, girl," he warned her. "To do so would be the death of us both." It wasn't the orcs that concerned him, though they did craft many dangerous weapons, some of which may pose a threat to even him, No, it was the master of those lands that he wished to avoid. The moment Sauron learned of his survival, the Dark Lord would send his minions after him to secure his allegiance. Perhaps he had a way to break the spell binding him to the girl, but it was far more likely he would use her to secure his obedience. That was a risk he was not willing to take. As humiliating and infuriating as this situation was, he would much rather deal with the girl than the Dark Lord himself.

He continued to predict the orcs' path as he continued to fly, now at a much faster pace. There was difficult terrain to pass on foot along this bank of the river. Hills and the falls meant they would have to detour further inland. The delta, also, would make travel slow as they attempted to find suitable crossings at all of the smaller branches of the River Entwash. It was equally possible that they walked all the way around, which would still slow them down. He chose to follow the river.

Eventually, the orcs would need to cross the river once again, and he knew no other obvious crossing than at Osgiliath. As far as he knew, Gondor still controlled the western bank. Rangers doubtless patrolled the area, looking out for stray orc packs like the one they were currently chasing. If the girl's sire wasn't dead yet, perhaps he'd be lucky enough for a ranger patrol to rescue him.

It was an hour later with still no sign of their quarry when he finally broke the silence once more. "We have crossed into Gondor, girl. How much farther do you expect us to go?"

"As far as it takes," was her immediate and resolute reply.

He growled in annoyance. His wings were just beginning to feel the first hints of fatigue. He normally didn't fly so fast for so long. When he did fly longer distances, he usually kept a more leisurely pace, and they had flown clear across Rohan twice now. Even if he hadn't been going full speed for the first half of the trip so far, that was still a lot of flying for one night. "If he yet lives, it is far more likely that a Gondorian patrol will find him than we. Osgiliath is the only place the orcs can cross, and dawn is quickly approaching. Or do you propose we allow all of Gondor to witness us flying overhead?"

There was no immediate reply. Then, he felt her smack her fist upon his neck, and just as he glanced back to snap at her for that, she yelled out in pure frustration. After that, she slumped forward, hiding her face from him. Small drops began to fall upon his scales, and he snorted in derision before focusing his gaze back upon the horizon.

Making a decision, he turned around. He'd follow the River Entwash this time as he returned to Edoras. There was nothing more to be done, and the girl was finally realizing it.

AN: Well, the hunt took them all across Rohan and even into Gondor, but their quarry managed to slip away. Or did they? Maybe something unexpected will happen in the next one. You never know.

Anyway, reviews are appreciated. I read them, I swear. I even respond to them with PMs.

Until Next Time

AdmiralCole22