Life is Precious

AN: I can never seem to get these two stories finished on time like the others, but whatever.

For some reason, this chapter seemed to fly by when I was writing it. You might notice that it's not an actual chapter number, and you'll see why once you get into it. I hope you enjoy this Interlude chapter!

Disclaimer: I own nothing belonging to the Hobbit or Lord of the Rings.

Interlude 1:

There was no rush to get back to the Shire. Bilbo had mentioned that he was ready to go home, but he had also expressed his desire to see more of Middle-Earth. And Gandlaf, having no real pressing matters to attend to—and quite enjoying the little hobbit's company—had decided to give him that chance.

Their time in Erebor had been shorter than he had wished it to be, though he didn't blame Bilbo for wanting to leave as soon as possible. They had stayed only long enough for Thorin, Fili, and Kili's funeral and Dain's coronation as King Under the Mountain. And though there was to a feast that night, as dwarven tradition dictated, Bilbo had not wanted to stay for that. It was the way he wished to remember his fallen friends, or so he claimed.

Gandalf suspected it was more to do with the mountain and its inhabitants. Perhaps the sense of loss was too keen here. For his part, every time Gandalf saw a surviving member of the company, he was reminded that three had not. Fili and Kili had both been kind souls, eager and passionate. And Thorin...well, his time as King hadn't been a very good one, but in the end, he triumphed over the dragon sickness and regained his mind. That was no easy feat, and it showed just how deeply he cared for the members of his company. Even Bilbo, the one he had believed didn't belong at first. Perhaps Bilbo felt those losses as keenly as he. And that's not to mention the fight with the dragon and the following battle with the orcs.

There weren't many good memories to be had about that mountain.

Upon leaving, they briefly stopped in Dale for the night. The twice-ruined city did not have much in the way of luxurious accommodations. Many parts of the city were still corpse-riddled, and food was still a major concern, but its new residents were doing what they could to rebuild. Orc bodies were piled and burned outside the city. The elves had gathered their own fallen shortly after the battle, and the Men lost during the battle had all been buried in a new cemetery. Despite the ramshackle state of the city, the Men of Dale were not ones to turn away guests, especially ones that had helped save their lives. Their newly elected lord, Bard, had personally invited them to have supper with him and his family. It was a simple meal of fish stew, but it was the company and conversation that mattered more.

"I can't thank you both enough for everything you did for us. Without your warning, Gandalf, and your timely intervention, Master Baggins, I do not believe we would've been ready for the orcs' arrival." It was a genuine thanks, one which they both had accepted, though not without some resistance on Bilbo's part.

"I told you before that I didn't do it for you. I can't accept your thanks." Despite the hobbit's denial, Bard held no hard feelings.

"Aye, you did," he'd agreed. "And you have my condolences for the loss of your friends, of course. No matter your motives, though, you helped us. And I won't soon forget that."

Conversation had turned to lighter subjects after that, and after the meal, they had been given rooms to stay in. The beds were rudimentary, but they were still better than the stone furniture the dwarves preferred.

They left the following morning, and what they found later that day had made Bard's genuine thanks feel a bit ill-timed. Smaug had survived, and Gandalf had saved him from dying. Bilbo had been understandably upset. The hobbit had watched the destruction of Laketown from atop one of Erebor's old watchtowers. Even before that, he had played a deadly game of cat and mouse with the dragon.

"Why did you save him!?" he'd demanded. "That beast destroyed Laketown and slaughtered hundreds of innocent people!"

It was a valid question, and one Gandalf himself hadn't been entirely sure of. He hadn't blamed Bilbo for his justified anger. "Remember what I told you when I gave you your sword, Bilbo?" Taken aback, he had nevertheless nodded. "There are very few dragons left in this world, of which Smaug is the greatest. I believe the Battle of Five Armies was just a prelude to a much greater threat." He had debated whether or not to tell Bilbo the truth about Sauron, but he eventually decided that he didn't want his friend to be afraid of the Dark Lord for the rest of his life. So instead of explaining his entire reason, he simply said, "A dragon might just turn the odds in our favor."

Bilbo had just stared at him in utter bewilderment. "And you seriously expect Smaug to simply keep to his word?"

"Of course not," was his immediate reply. "Which is why I have given him no choice. I used an ancient spell to keep him in check." For some reason, he didn't really want Bilbo to know the truth behind what the spell did. If the hobbit knew he had tethered the dragon to someone without their knowledge or consent, he imagined Bilbo would be a lot angrier than he already was. "Trust me, Bilbo. I would not have saved the dragon's life if I believed he would pose any sort of threat to Middle-Earth." Admittedly, that was as much to convince himself as it was to convince Bilbo.

He still wasn't happy, but Bilbo had decided to drop it. There was nothing he could do about it, in any event. It was already done.

The first leg of the journey took them back through Mirkwood on the Old Forest Road, though they decided not to stop by the Woodland Realm. Thranduil was still grieving over the loss of his kin and the farewell with his son. The fact the Elven king wasn't very fond of either of them played a part, as well.

So they merely decided to go through the forest, which was considerably less dangerous with Gandalf present. The illusions and hallucinations caused by the forest were easily kept at bay through the use of a warding spell. And no spiders or orcs happened to cross their paths, either, which meant that part of the trip was rather easy. And since the actual road was wider than the path the company had taken from the other way, their mounts were able to make it through, as well.

Their next stop was Beorn's house. The great eagles had been gracious enough to fly the skinchanger back home not long after the battle, which meant he was there when they arrived. He gladly allowed them to stay and was gracious enough to provide some more supplies for the next leg of their journey.

It was the start of winter when they reached Lorien. Protected as it was, the chill wasn't particularly bad. Gandalf himself had been here many times before, but seeing the wonder on Bilbo's face made him look at his surroundings a little differently and appreciate things in a new way. For sure, every place in Middle-Earth was unique. Some places, like Rivendell or the Shire, had a homely feel or quaint charm. Others, like the vast halls of Erebor or the great tree homes of Lorien, were more awe-inspiring. All of them were worth seeing, of course, especially for one who hadn't seen much of the world until now.

The Lady Galadriel, of course, gave them permission to stay for as long as they would like. Though she never said as much, he got the distinct impression that she knew the dragon yet lived. She gave him a knowing look upon their arrival. And Bilbo, for some reason, seemed especially uncomfortable around her. Galadriel's ability was quite shocking for those who had never experienced it, sure, but he kept fingering the ring he kept hidden in his pocket.

Despite that, however, the two stayed for over a week. When they left, however, Gandalf couldn't help but ask, "Now that you've seen both Lorien and Rivendell, which do you like better?" He didn't include the Woodland Realm since Bilbo had only really seen the cells and cellar from his account.

Bilbo thought about that for several minutes. "No offense to the Lady Galadriel, Lorien was very beautiful, but I do believe I like Rivendell better."

Gandalf chuckled good-naturedly at that. "I'll be sure to tell Lord Elrond as much when next we meet. I'm sure he'll be honored to hear that Bilbo Baggins loved his home more than the forests of Lothlorien." The hobbit just smiled sheepishly.

The unexpectedly harsh winter had slowed their progress through Rohan quite a bit, but fortunately, they were able to keep warm enough to stave away the worst of the chill. Unfortunately, the path to Gondor would take them too far out of the way, something which Bilbo regretted but understood, but a quick stop at Edoras would be feasible. Then, after Edoras, they might stop by for a quick peak at Helm's Deep. And after that, he planned to show the hobbit Isengard, though they probably wouldn't stop there. The last thing he wanted was for Saruman to learn the truth about the dragon's survival.

After that, the plan was to follow the Old South Road to the Greenway, and then follow the Greenway all the way up to the Shire. There would be no stopping at Rivendell this time, much to Bilbo's disappointment, but once again, the hobbit seemed to understand that a detour would take too long. As much as he enjoyed the journey, he was growing anxious to get home.

Of course, things are never that simple. It was deep winter by the time they reached Edoras, and it was clear something had happened. They were approaching from the north, and even from a good distance out, they could see part of the wall atop the cliff had been destroyed, and houses near the twin breaches were being rebuilt. "What happened here?"

Gandalf regarded Bilbo with a serious expression. "I don't know...but I imagine we'll find out soon enough." He spurred his horse on, and Bilbo did the same with his pony.

They approached the gates, but one of the gate guards stepped into their path. "Hold there! The city is closed to visitors!"

Their mounts came to a halt, and Gandlaf regarded the man closely. "Why? What happened?"

"That's no business of yours. Now, be off!" This was the second time in a year that he'd arrived at a city of Men and not been recognized. Perhaps he needed to visit the human cities and towns a bit more often.

"Tell King Fengel that Gandalf the Grey is at the gates of his city and would very much like to speak with him." The guard was about to say something else when his partner approached and pushed him out of the way.

He was an older chap. The first guard seemed outraged at first, but when the second guard whispered something to him, he grew silent and seemed genuinely apologetic. "Apologies, sir. Another wizard would be a welcome guest."

"Another wizard?" he asked, fearing the worst.

"Yes, sir. Lord Saruman arrived yesterday. He and the King have been in discussions ever since. I'm sure they were both like to speak with you, as well, about the dragon attack." Gandalf nodded, keeping his expression neutral, and when the guards parted to let him and Bilbo through, they rode in silently. Once past the guards, both him and Bilbo shared a look.

Bilbo seemed to quietly be saying 'I told you so', though neither of them spoke for fear of someone overhearing them. Once their mounts were safe in the stables, the two walked up the main road. The residents regarded them suspiciously, and he could see the clear fear on more than one face. Many also kept glancing at the sky.

At the first inn they found, Gandalf entered with Bilbo in tow. "I would like a room for me and my friend here," he told the innkeeper, who nodded. Once paid, he showed them to their room. It was a cozy room. And clean. Plus, the door had a lock, which Gandalf used as soon as they were inside.

And once the door was shut, Bilbo's mouth was open. "Smaug attacked this city." It was as much an observation as it was an accusation.

"We don't know that for sure," Gandalf responded. "As I said before, there are other dragons that inhabit Middle-Earth. For all we know, it could've been any one of them."

"And if it was Smaug?" Bilbo challenged him as Gandalf placed his bag upon the bed.

He turned and regarded the hobbit coolly. "Then, he must've had a reason. As for what that is," he continued, seeing Bilbo about to speak again. "That is what I plan to find out." He opened the door again, staff in hand, but paused before he left. "Lock the door and await my return. Do not open it for anyone but me." Once Bilbo nodded, he left, and then he heard the door lock behind him.

Through the city streets he walked, nodding or smiling kindly as the crowd parted to let him through. Once up the steps to the Golden Hall, the guards allowed him entry without any fuss. The large doors opened with a loud creak to reveal the Hall was well lit yet nearly empty. Only a handful of soldiers stood guard while King Fengel sat upon his throne. The last figure stood before the King, garbed in a white robe and holding an unmistakable staff.

All eyes turned to him upon hearing the doors open. "Ah, Gandalf...the other wizard I was hoping to see."

"King Fengel," Gandalf greeted him, stopping next to Saruman, who watched him intently, and bowing to the King. "It seems the time of my arrival in your city was a fortunate one."

"It would've been more fortunate had you been here before half of my city was destroyed by a dragon!" he snapped, making Gandalf frowned. He had seen the damage and knew it was nothing that extreme. But King Fengel was a prideful and vain man, not to mention greedy. He probably cared more about how his city looked than the people whose homes were destroyed.

"And I would like to know what brings you here, Gandalf," Saruman addressed him. "Last I heard, you were taking the halfling back to the Shire."

"I was," Gandalf nodded. Then, he corrected himself. "Am. I decided to bring Bilbo home on a different road, one that passed through Lorien and brought us here. From here, we were to follow the Old South Road all the way up to the Shire."

"Hmm...then I would say your arrival is a fortunate one, for I have many questions to ask you." Gandalf sighed quietly at that, but he knew he had no choice. Thus, he nodded. "Many of the witnesses to the incident four days ago say that the dragon resembled Smaug—"

"It didn't resemble the dragon Smaug," The King interrupted, less-than-kindly. "It was Smaug. I saw the dragon with my own eyes. I know the stories as well as any other."

"Yes, of course," Saruman conceded. "But word from the north is that Smaug was slain by a man of Laketown, Bard, who has since become Lord of Dale. Can you confirm that, Gandalf?"

The grey wizard knew he could not tell the truth. Not yet, anyway. Given time and further information about who Smaug was bonded to and where they were currently, he would bring it up to the White Council. Until then, his part in this could not be known, especially by a King as greedy and power-hungry as Fengel. "After Dol Guldur, I made all haste to Erebor, but I arrived after the dragon was felled. Everyone I spoke to, however, said that Smaug was struck by the black arrow and fell upon Laketown itself."

"Meaning the body would be deep within the lake itself." Saruman shook his head, and Gandalf blinked in surprise. "Which means you have no evidence that Smaug is actually dead." Always with the lack of evidence... "What if the people's celebrations were premature, Gandalf? Even a wounded dragon could pose a significant threat to Middle-Earth."

In an attempt to siderail this conversation, Gandalf tried to distract them with a question. "If Smaug did survive, why would he come to Edoras? More importantly, why would he not simply burn this city to the ground?"

Saruman actually stopped to consider that, and though Fengel clearly wasn't happy with the way Gandalf had phrased his statement, he didn't immediately comment, either. Someone else in the room, however, did. "He took a girl."

Both wizards and the King turned to who had spoken. One of the soldiers, a captain, stepped forward. "Explain," Saruman demanded, though his voice remained calm.

Needing no other prompting, the soldier began his tale. "The night of the attack, there was a fight that broke out in the city's inn. Three people, including my son, were killed by a drunken lunatic and former member of the guard. We followed him back to his house and tried to take him in. He fought back. His wife tried to stop him, but he killed her, too. His two kids tried to run, so we gave chase, tried to stop them from doing anything rash. The boy turned to attack us while the girl tried to climb down the cliff. That's when the dragon showed up."

Gandalf studied the man intently, sensing deceit and malice hidden behind his words. There was a spark of rage in his eyes and no sign of remorse in his expression for the death of two innocents and the capture of a third by the claws of a dragon. "And what was this girl's name?" he asked.

"Her name was Earyth," the King informed them. "Her father, Holdred, was a good soldier, at least before he was taken prisoner by orcs. He managed to escape somehow, but he wasn't the same upon his return."

"There were a lot of holes in his story," the captain interjected. "Since we had no way to prove what really happened, though, we just took him at his word, figured he just was remembering things wrong. Then, the dragon showed up and took his girl away. Probably means she got the dragon to save him." He scoffed. "Little witch."

"There's no such thing as a witch," Gandalf scolded the foolish man. "And even if there were and your inane theory is correct, she would've been one you'd want to stay on the good side of." The captain bristled, clenching his jaw at being called out. "It's more likely that she stumbled upon him somewhere in the area and decided to claim her as his."

There were some disgusted looks from the soldiers as they doubtless took that to mean something else than he intended. "There is another option..." Saruman began, and all eyes turned to him. "There exists an ancient spell, one created by Morgoth himself, to bind a dragon to a mortal. It was how his servants were able to control dragons during the First Age." Saruman's gaze turned to him, and he could see the accusation in them before he even spoke. "Though it would require a powerful magic user to cast. Of the five that could possibly do it, Sauron can instantly be ruled out. The enemy was vanquished long ago. The Lady Galadriel has not left Lorien since our meeting in Rivendell. I have not left Isengard since then, either. That means, there are only two possibilities. Radagast...and you, Gandalf." Suspicious and accusatory gazes turned to him, and Gandalf made extra sure not to give anything away through his expression. "So Gandalf...did you cast such a spell upon the dragon?"

The grey wizard looked outright scandalized. "After everything Smaug has done, do you truly believe I would save his life and bind him to a mere girl?"

Saruman inclined his head and narrowed his gaze in growing anger, and the King's grip upon his throne tightened. "I never said anything about saving the dragon's life." Only now did Gandalf realize his mistake, and he sighed in defeat, realizing he was caught because of that slip. "You have much explaining to do, old friend. I will summon the rest of the White Council to Isengard, and you...you will explain yourself." Saruman held out his free hand expectantly, and Gandalf sighed again, giving his staff to his fellow wizard.

He was under arrest, for all intents and purposes. "Of course..." he agreed. "My one request is that someone makes sure Bilbo gets back to the Shire safely."

Saruman thought for a second before nodding. "I will summon one of the Dúnedain, as well. They will see your hobbit safely home." At least that was Bilbo taken care of. It would be quite unfortunate that he couldn't bring the hobbit home himself, but the rangers were all good folk, too.

Fengel, however, was not a good man, and Gandalf didn't like the look of pondering in the King's eye.

AN: Yep, we checked in to see what Gandalf and Bilbo were up to while Smaug and Earyth were doing their thing. Unfortunately for the Grey Pilgrim, Saruman is a rather keen wizard. He'll definitely have a tough time trying to convince the White Council that he hasn't lost his mind, and all the while he'll be worrying about what King Fengel might get up to.

The next arc of the story will have a few more POVs, I'm thinking. Bilbo's quiet life in the Shire wouldn't make for much of an exciting story, so unfortunately we won't see much of him for a good long while. We will, however, check up on Gandalf and even Radagast every now and then to see what they're up to.

Until Next Time

AdmiralCole22