Life is Precious

AN: Is anyone really surprised by this? I just started a King Ghidorah fic, so I couldn't not do one about the single best movie dragon of all time. Now, a couple things everyone should know before going into this:

First, this is only a crossover because of Smaug. For all intents and purposes, this is a LotR AU where he survives.

Second, Smaug is not a good guy. Just because he's bound to a mortal now does not mean he has a sudden change of heart. He's still the arrogant, prideful, intimidating, greedy drake we all know and love.

Third, Smaug is going to remain a dragon. There will be no human/anthro transformations here! There's too many of those in my opinion and not enough where he actually stays a dragon. Smaug is a dragon and a dragon he shall stay.

Fourth, the rating is more just the fantasy violence than anything else. There will be absolutely no foul language in this fic. That's the way Tolkien did it in the books. It's the way Jackson did it in his movies. And that's the way I'm going to do it in this fanfic, too.

Finally, and probably most importantly, I am what you might call a 'normie' when it comes to Tolkien lore. I have read the LotR and Hobbit books, but it's been years at this point (probably closer to a decade, actually), and it's far easier to rewatch the movies than it is to reread the books. As such, this is going to be more based around the movies.

With all that out of the way, enjoy!

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

Prologue:

It was a bittersweet ending to such a grand tale, for sure. The Battle of Five Armies turned out to be a victory for the free peoples of Middle-Earth, though the cost was high for all involved. Thorn, Fili, and Kili were all killed in the battle, three of the thirteen dwarves Gandalf had grown quite fond of during their long and perilous journey. Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills, was crowned King Under the Mountain amidst their funeral, a title he accepted with no joy, for he grieved the loss of his cousin.

The elves, though they received the least amount of casualties, still lost many souls in the fighting. Worse yet, Legolas and his father were now at odds. Thranduil returned to the Woodland Realm with half his number and without his son. The battle seemed to have knocked some sense into the elven king, thankfully, for he no longer seemed to care about going to war with the dwarves.

It was the men of Laketown who suffered most of all. Between the destruction wreaked upon Esgaroth by Smaug and the casualties they took during the battle, a mere fraction of their number remained. Bard and his people were a hardy bunch, though. They would remain in Dale for a time, and Dain had already promised gold enough to rebuild the ruined city and Esgaroth itself. Soon enough, both cities would be returned to their former glory and trade would once more flow in the north.

The orcs retreated after both Bolg and Azog were vanquished and the eagles arrived. A great many survived, which was cause for concern, but Sauron's return weighed heavily upon the minds of those who knew the truth. Gandalf, especially, feared for the fate of those still recovering and for Middle-Earth, as a whole.

It was, in part, why he insisted on visiting the ruins of Laketown before escorting Bilbo back to the Shire. Despite the consistent accounts of everyone who witnessed the dragon's fall, the wizard wanted to make sure for himself that Smaug truly was dead. It would be a weight off his shoulders if he could confirm that the dragon would cause problems for no one else ever again.

"He fell onto the town itself, you say?" Gandalf and Bilbo stood on the shore where the bridge to Esgaroth once was. The hobbit seemed uncomfortable with being here, though the wizard was studying the ruined town with a critical eye.

"Yes. At least that's what I saw from our perch on one of the dwarves' old watchtowers." Gandalf hummed at that. He didn't doubt the hobbit, especially since the men of Laketown said as much, but he had just wanted to confirm it for himself. "How deep is this lake, anyway?"

"Deep enough to swallow a dragon whole," Gandalf answered. "Not even the best of swimmers could go deep enough to catch even a glimpse. It is, then, a fitting grave for a creature of fire and death." Satisfied at seeing the ruins himself, and seeing that, indeed, the dragon had crashed right atop the town itself and been swallowed by the lake, Gandalf turned to smile down at the hobbit standing on his right. However, something in the distance caught his eye.

Seeing Gandalf's worry, Bilbo turned to look in the same direction. South along the bank of the lake, several trees seemed to have fallen, a few even partially submerged in the water. "What could have caused that? Was it the orcs, do you think?"

"Other than the hunting party that attacked Bard's home, there were no orcs this far south. Certainly not enough to cause that kind of damage." His voice was severe, his gaze hard. "No, I fear it was something decidedly bigger."

It took him a moment to catch on, but when he did, Bilbo shook his head in denial and growing horror. "You don't think..."

"I do...though I would be more than happy to be proven wrong." Drawing his sword, Gandalf walked down the beach, Bilbo following right behind him. They were silent during the mile or so trek, both keeping their eyes and ears open for something out of the ordinary. They stopped just outside of the trail of destruction and observed the scene for a moment. Trees were snapped in half like they were mere twigs, and there was a distinct furrow through the dirt, as if something large had been drug through here. "So...he survived..."

Weeks have passed since Smaug's fall. Even if he survived long enough to drag himself out of the water, it was unlikely he was still alive. Even still, he needed to know for sure. Gandalf took but two steps into the forest before Bilbo was all in a tizzy. "What are you doing!?" he whisper-yelled. "Are you seriously going into the creepy forest after a dragon!?"

"We have to know if Smaug yet lives. I dare not think of what may happen should he somehow survive." He turned just in time to see Bilbo about to argue. "You can either stay here or come with me. Either way, I'm going in whether you like it or not."

Bilbo looked around, utterly stupefied, before concluding that maybe staying with the wizard was a good idea. With Bilbo tagging along, Gandalf moved quickly yet quietly into the forest. At least the trail wasn't hard to follow, and though the unbroken trees cast dark shadows beneath them, sunlight poured into this path of destruction unimpeded.

This may have been part of Mirkwood, but it was past the borders of the Woodland Realm. It wouldn't be surprising if the elves were yet unaware of the dragon's survival. Neither the dwarves nor the men of Laketown have been down here since the battle, either. It was, then, a good place for an injured dragon to hide for a time.

After nearly fifteen minutes of walking, Gandalf stopped, listening for something that wasn't there. "Do you hear that?" he asked the hobbit.

Bilbo looked around in confusion and slight fear. "No...no, I don't hear anything."

"Precisely. There are no bird calls. No insect sounds." The fact there were no animals here brought him to a dreadful realization. "Smaug yet lives."

With that utterance, they continued on, the atmosphere of the forest tense and frightening. Neither knew what kind of condition Smaug might be in. Was he barely clinging on to life? Or did he still have some fight left in him? A few minutes later, those questions were answered, and to their utter relief, the former was true.

Though the shadows of the trees hid most of his body, Smaug was crumpled on his side with one wing pinned beneath him. His head lay on the ground, cocked at an angle. The fire in his eyes was dimmed significantly, and his breathing was labored. And there, stuck in his chest with only the fletching visible, was the black arrow. A trail of blood stained the golden scales of his chest and pooled upon the dirt. The wound itself was clearly infected if the yellowish crust around it was any indication.

"I suppose..." the once fierce being rasped, "that helping those...less fortunate...is completely...out of the question. At both of their continued silence, he continued. "If that be the case...you might as well...finish me. You will never...have a better opportunity...than right now." The dragon's gaze landed squarely upon Bilbo, a small snarl of recognition all he could muster.

The sound of a sword being unsheathed caught both the dragon's and Gandalf's attention. Bilbo seemed to be debating whether or not to fulfill Smaug's wish, so Gandalf held his staff out to block the hobbit from moving. "Return to the beach, Master Burglar. Allow me to handle this from here."

Bilbo seemed skeptical that leaving Gandalf alone with the dragon was the best idea, but he trusted the wizard and feared the dragon enough to not argue. As Bilbo sped back down the path, Gandalf stepped closer to the helpless dragon and observed the near-fatal wound despite the warning growl. "Based on the angle and position, I'd say it missed your heart by an inch, at most. With all the blood you've lost and this infection, it's nothing short of a miracle that you've survived this long."

"So...that is why you came... To gloat... Do you wish...to watch me die?" The dragon attempted to lift his head, but he was barely able to lift it off the ground before it fell back to the ground. A pained hiss accompanied his shuddering breath.

"If I did, I doubt I'd have to wait long. I'd say you have less than two days to live. Barely more than one if I was to guess." Gandalf stepped back from Smaug's chest to gauge his expression, and what he saw made him pause. The dragon didn't seem to be afraid at the prospect of his death. Nor did he appear angry. Smaug simply appeared...accepting. He knew he was about to die, and there was nothing he could do.

"End me, then... Release me from...this pain..." Smaug's pride would not allow him to beg, but that was the closest thing to a plea for mercy Gandalf would probably ever hear from a dragon. And he felt something in that moment that he thought he would never feel for this creature, the beast responsible for countless deaths, for the destruction of Dale and Laketown and the fall of Erebor:

Pity.

Conflict arose within him, then. He knew killing Smaug was the best and safest course of action. The dragon would die soon enough, yes, but killing him now would be an act of mercy. But did Smaug deserve that mercy? Should he not be punished for the death and destruction he wrought?

Sometimes, true courage is knowing, not when to take a life...but when to spare one. That is what he told Bilbo when he gave the hobbit his little sword. Ironic then, that his own words would come back to haunt him in this moment. This moment when, by all means, they shouldn't. What reason did he have to spare Smaug's life?

Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But should he side with the enemy...a dragon could be used to terrible effect. That's what he told the White Council in Rivendell. With Sauron's return confirmed, Smaug's death was all the more necessary. Or was it? Dragons were originally created for war. If the dark forces were so willing to set such creatures upon them, should they not be able to do the same? Saruman believes it is only through great power can we keep the darkness at bay...

Well, there weren't many things more powerful than a dragon. But no dragon, least of all Smaug, would side with the free peoples willingly. Even if his beliefs were different than Saruman's, he had to admit, power helped.

"Why...do you hesitate...wizard? Strike me down...avenge the people...of Dale and Laketown." Desperate he must be, indeed, to resort to such tactics—bringing up his own evils to hasten his demise.

Gandalf sheathed his sword to the dragon's great confusion. "Because I could save your life...and I'm debating on whether or not I should."

No hope entered the dying dragon's gaze. Rather, it was only suspicion, for dragons were clever creatures. He knew there had to be a catch to this offer. "Why...would you? You know...exactly what I would...do if I were...spared."

While Gandalf was no expert in the deeper mysteries and obscure uses of magic, he had done extensive research on dragons before setting Thorn on his quest. Many things he learned in his studies. From the dragon-sickness that infested the minds of those who came near their hoard, or the dragon-spell that unwary mortals would find themselves manipulated under, he'd learned much of their natural abilities.

However, their origins had also been of great interest. They had been created for war by Morgoth himself. That darkness influences them to this day, so how could the forces of darkness control a dragon if not through magic? In his research, Gandalf had found a spell that even Radagast, upon consultation, agreed could theoretically force a dragon to submit. Who had created the spell and why was lost to time, but it's purpose was clear.

"I know of a spell that will bind your soul to someone who is pure of heart. That pureness will be in direct opposition to the darkness in yours. You will be unable to kill or control them, yet they will be able to control you with but a word." It was ancient magic that toed the line of darkness, yet Gandalf was reasonably confident he could do it.

Smaug, however, needed to agree. Well, Gandalf wanted him to agree. He didn't wish to force this spell upon him. That was the difference between him and the likes of Sauron. While the latter would've forced Smaug to submit, the former was giving him a choice.

"I would rather die..." the great serpent hissed, baring his fangs in a fruitless attempt to intimidate. "For Smaug is controlled by no one..."

"Life is precious, Smaug. With Erebor now in the hands of its rightful owners, your life is the only thing you have left. Do not be so quick to throw it aside." Sitting upon a nearby rock, Gandalf looked directly into the dragon's left eye, completely unconcerned about any dragon-spell. Smaug was simply too weak to make use of it. "I can save your life, but you must give me reason to."

"What reason—" He was cut off with a shudder of pain, his growing anger actually causing him even more agony. "What reason do I...have to trade...my freedom...for my life? I would rather...die free...than live as a slave."

Gandalf's expression turned grave. "Sauron has returned. You know as well as I what he would force upon the few remaining dragons in Middle-Earth. You are one of the last of your kind, the greatest firedrake of this age. Your death would mean the eventual death of all dragonkind." While he had no particular love for dragons, that didn't mean he would celebrate their extinction. Life was life, no matter its origin. And while dragons cared not for each other, they, like all sentient beings, were concerned about the very survival of their species.

The silence was probably a good sign. At least he wasn't shooting the deal down outright. As it stretched on, it quickly became apparent that the dragon would be pondering this matter for a good, long while. Bilbo would be fine for now, the wizard was sure. Pulling out his pipe, he lit it with a quick flame. He was in no rush.

The dragon didn't seem to mind his continued presence, though that was probably more to do with the fact that he couldn't exactly do anything to drive the wizard away. He couldn't move, as evidenced earlier. And trying to use his fire would no doubt instantly kill him at this point. Smaug did ask an occasional question such as, "Who would I be bonded to?" to which Gandalf answered that he honestly did not know. He also asked for more details about what this spell would do.

Gandalf knew the basics. His partner would be able to control him. He would die if his partner was killed, so it was in his best interest to keep them alive. The opposite of those two statements, however, was not true. Smaug could not control or kill his partner, nor would they die if he was somehow killed. There was also a likely possibility that his partner would become immortal should they not be an elf.

Hours passed. Within the dragon's eyes, Gandalf saw great conflict. The very idea of being bound to another was antithetical to a dragon's very nature. Dragons were creatures of the air, free to go and do whatever they wanted. To take that freedom of choice away was no small ask. And to serve a creature so small and frail, so lesser, compared to him was no doubt an utter humiliation. When death was the only other option, though, what was more important?

It was nearly nightfall when the great dragon finally gave his answer. "I...accept," he rasped, his breathing noticeably weaker than it was earlier. "I...wish...to live." It seemed the opportunity had sparked some hope in him. And now that he was growing weaker, Gandalf could spy that instinctual fear of death that all living creatures possessed in his dimming eyes.

Gandalf pursed his lips and nodded. "So be it..."

He was about to save the life of the most loathed creature on Middle-Earth and ruin some unknown person's life by binding them to a dragon. His friends and colleagues were sure to call him mad for this, and truthfully, he had hoped Smaug would refuse. At least then he wouldn't have to explain himself. But he would not go back on his word now. Utterly unwise this decision may turn out to be, but he had an inexplicable feeling deep down that though it may cause problems in the short term, they would, all of them, be glad for Smaug's survival in the end.

AN: How about that, huh? I don't think I've ever really seen this concept explored, but there are a lot of Tolkien fics out there, and I know I haven't read them all. Let me know your thoughts on the general premise so far.

Also, this is probably the only chapter that will be from Gandalf's POV. The rest of the story will be told from either Smaug's or his new partner's viewpoints. Did Gandalf's reasons make sense? Did Smaug, even on the brink of death, seem too tame? Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated.

Until Next Time

AdmiralCole22