To Where and Back Again? A Hobbit's Journey

by HudsonHornet51

Bilbo Baggins thought his adventure was over. He and the Company had survived the might of Smaug and now they had walled themselves in. Quite by accident, he stumbles onto the greatest secret of the world, and is thrust into a whirlwind of wonder on yet another grand adventure. Unfortunately, what the adventure entails will leave him a very different Hobbit than ever before.

5. The Dragonets' Burglar (IV)

Dragonet's Burglar

---

He did not know just how long they had been flying, or just how far they had traveled since fleeing the now ruined Sky Kingdom. All he knew was that they had since left sight of the mountain range, as if the memories of that terrible place were nothing but distant and unwanting. Any sight of the kingdom was lost as they flew over the vast ocean.

Bilbo had never seen the ocean at any point during his life or adventure, the closest being the lake of Esgaroth. He felt that flying over the vastness of trees and rocks and mountains was no different than flying with the Eagles. There was a feeling of isolation, that if he fell off and into the forest he would never be seen again—left to the mercy of wild beasts—or into the rushing river and carried away to sea, then there would not be anyone helpful or friendly around to save him. No dwarves, no Gandalf, no hobbits of the Brandywine River, only dragons that he had sworn his service to; no one back in Middle-Earth would believe this story even if he tried.

At the same time, he was focused on the dragon that had likewise been rescued along with Sunny, who was called Kestrel. He got the feeling that she was not a friendly dragon like the dragonets, maybe she in fact hated them, with how she behaved and responded towards them. He didn't think she was like Scarlet or Smaug—most definitely not Smaug, only grumpy and hardheaded, like Thorin.

…

Actually, she was not like Thorin in many ways. She was not the old Thorin, the one that Bilbo wanted to remember his friend by, rather…

In all honesty, he still had no clear idea on what to think of her. Mainly because of how much he was put off by her attitude.

Soon, Clay began swooping downwards to the nearest deserted island where the others had already gathered. He let go of Bilbo, gently setting him on the ground. From the exhaustion of the new adventure he had been caught up in, along with flying over the vast array of the land twice now, he set himself on a ledge of a large rock overlooking the waterfall. He listened to the calming water as it rushed beneath his feet, it was like the air of it all was soothing to his mind and soul.

He only wished that he had his pipe of West Farthing tobacco, it was the most perfect moment for such an occasion for a calm smoke. This entire day had been too much for the hobbit to fathom, and the pictures of his recent memories clashed so hard and bloody that he was able to think of any soothing thoughts.

It was not helped by how much heated the argument between Kestrel and the dragonets had gotten. He chose to remain apart from their business. If they had wanted him involved then they would have said so. It was only polite, as a burglar or a hobbit; he gave the same treatment to the Company of Dwarves, and only asked questions that were relevant to the quest at hand.

Still, he kept quiet and a listening ear to the conversation. At first, it was mainly Kestrel insulting and belittling the group with Tsunami giving her an earful. Then it turned to the possibility that Peril may be the missing SkyWing egg from the prophecy, something of which Glory was angry about. At least Clay tried to keep their spirits up enough, until Kestrel shot it down hard, explaining that Peril hatched a year before the "Brightest Night"; another element of the prophecy, it seemed.

She then offered Peril to go with her, even placing a claw on her shoulder despite getting slightly burnt. Peril then said something about needing black rocks to stay alive, then Kestrel rebuked that claim saying that Scarlet's favorite trick was poisoning food. It seemed that Scarlet was just as crafty and maliciously cunning as Smaug; the perfect pair. Peril must have suffered the worst if she spent her entire life until now in the twisted care of the SkyWing queen. She was truly out of her element beyond the kill ring, lost and confused on what to do or where to continue with her life.

Finally, it turned to the topic of where this "Talons of Peace" group had found their eggs, asked by Tsunami stopping Kestrel from leaving. Bilbo could have done without the nasty bickering, but the part about finding their eggs intrigued him.

So they are all orphaned, he thought. Stolen from their families for whatever this forsaken prophecy entailed for them.

For Tsunami, Kestrel explained that another dragon named Webs had stolen her egg from the Sea Kingdom's royal hatchery, with Sunny excitedly exclaiming that the SeaWing was, in fact, of all royal blood. Perhaps that was where her fierce aggressive personality came from, he had seen it all before in Thorin, even that same exact steely gaze as she eyed Kestrel.

For Starflight, his egg had been brought to the group from another dragon named Morrowseer. Just the very sound of the name made Bilbo's body shiver, as if a worm was sliming its way through his mind. He hoped that whoever this Morrowseer was that he was not like Smaug or Scarlet.

For Sunny, another dragon named Dune had found her egg lost in the desert, near a place known only as the Scorpion Den. Did she truly have no family? Was she abandoned even after birth? Even if dragons hatched from eggs, that did not mean that abandoning a child was any less wrong and cruel. It was a thought that the hobbit dared not to even ponder.

For the big MudWing Clay, his egg was picked up by another dragon, named Asha, from the outermost region of the Mud Kingdom known as the Diamond Spray Delta, where, as she put it, "where the lowest born MudWings live." The dragon in question did not seem at all interested in her belittling, rather he had a thoughtful look on his muzzle. Bilbo paused at the mention of it as well, remembering that his captors flew him over a region of MudWings; perhaps that was indeed the Diamond Spray Delta.

And lastly was Glory: Kestrel said that the dragon Webs had scrounged her egg when the SkyWing egg had been destroyed, again belittling the RainWing, calling her unimportant. Glory rightfully had a look of disdain towards the female SkyWing, though it was neutral at the same time. It most likely was not the first that Kestrel had been cruel and demeaning to the grumpy RainWing. Tsunami stepped in to defend her friend, while Kestrel remained unfazed from her stance.

Has she been belittling Glory all her life since her childhood? Bilbo thought. It's no wonder she is always so cold.

Even Peril was in disbelief at Kestrel's attitude, with the non-flame scales rebuking that claim without a care. Did that imply the two were mother and daughter? It was not a pleasant thought, as Kestrel was a horrible dragon to begin with, but leaving her in the twisted claws of Scarlet from the egg? There was no way the hobbit could forgive or even pity the angry SkyWing.

Thorin was at least one of the most honorable creatures, dragons or dwarves or otherwise, after he had slowly gotten to know his character. He would fight to the death to defend his kin, and was always giving praises where they counted. Bilbo felt he had a good grasp on Kestrel's character, and just looking at her blood-red scales was putting a perpetual frown on his face.

Bilbo huffed, looking away from the gathered group, which unfortunately caused the dragon in question to finally notice his presence. Oh, how the misfortune.

"And why did you bring along this creature?" she sneered. "Are you planning on eating it for a snack?"

The hobbit ignored her voice, having grown accustomed to such mockery. Sunny however, stood to defend his honor. "Don't you dare say that about him!" she said. "We would never even think that. He saved our lives!"

"Sunny, please. It's not worth it—" Glory began.

"No! He is worth it!" Sunny interrupted. "I will not let anyone slander him when he saved me from that…that…w-whatever his name was!"

Now that he was put on the forefront of them all, there was no way he could hide away even if he wanted to use the ring. He noticed that even Sunny's friends were surprised at her outburst. Despite her cold demeanor, there was a hint of actual shock on Kestrel's face.

To her further surprise, Starflight spoke up as well. "She's right. Bilbo spared mine and Tsunami's lives in the kill ring. He promised that he would help us and not kill us."

It was clear that Kestrel was not used to the dragonets she assumed to be standing up against her cruelty. Clay looked impressed at their courage for the hobbit's honor, and he could have sworn that there was a smirk on Tsunami's muzzle.

When Kestrel finally got around to gather her thoughts, she spat, "Bilbo? Is that what you call it? Is it your pet or something?"

"Bilbo's not a pet, he's a friend," Sunny replied, much calmer than before.

"Really?" Kestrel leered. "Well, if he isn't a pet, then what does he want with you all?"

When Sunny was not able to respond, she turned to Bilbo for help. The hobbit looked to Kestrel's condescending sneer as it slowly morphed into a satisfied grin. Glory rolled her eyes in annoyance while Tsunami furrowed her brow. Even Starflight expected Bilbo to say something, anything even. The hobbit did not take long to think up his response.

He looked Kestrel straight in the eyes and said, "Some West Farthing pipeweed would be nice. Maybe a good book to read while sitting in my armchair with a nice warm hearth. Even a nice dinner with some fresh cucumbers and tomatoes, and a nice cooked fish to go down nicely."

To an ungrateful creature like Kestrel, it was amusing to watch her face contort to complete shock at being greeted with a creature that she had long believed to be nothing but food, now realizing that that exact food was actually a smart and complex thinking being. Moreso, Glory and Tsunami took pleasure in the SkyWing's growing confusion, especially at how panicked she appeared to be, from just staring at the neutral-faced little hobbit.

"This…this can't be possible," she emphatically said. "I must be dreaming."

"Believe me, if you were dreaming then you would actually be nice to us," Glory grumbled.

There were a handful of light laughs and chuckles from the group at the SkyWing's expense, even from Peril, despite the suspicious eye she was giving to the hobbit. It occurred to him that Peril may or may not actually know that it was his voice that set her on Smaug back in the Sky Kingdom. Most likely she would threaten his life again, she still retained her bad temper and could look to burn him alive. Despite her ill nature, he saw hope in her becoming a better person through her friendship with Clay.

Even so, Kestrel merely shook her head, still in disbelief. "I'm surrounded by dragonets who have lost their touch." With that, she left a parting message for them to send for help should they need hers, saying they all deserved the trouble that would come to them. Before she left, she said to Clay that he would need to kill in order to protect his friends. The MudWing gave no reply, she took off into the distance.

"Good riddance, I say," Bilbo grumbled.

"You said it," Tsunami agreed.

That left only Clay and Peril off to the side away from the others. Bilbo figured they would be needing a heart to heart on their own, so he turned away back to the calming waterfall, wishing that he had his pipeweed of West Farthing tobacco.

Presently, Sunny came over to sit next to him. At first, he didn't know what to say, and neither did she.

Then she said, "So uh, your name's Bilbo, right?"

He nodded. "Yes. Bilbo Baggins, that's my name. Proud hobbit of Bag End."

"Is that what you are? If you're not a scavenger, then you must be whatever a hobbit is? What is a hobbit?"

"A hobbit is about half the height of a Man, or scavenger as you call them, so that is where we get the name Halfling. Hobbits are what we call ourselves. As you can see, we have curly hair and don't generally wear shoes. We don't need them, really, as we have naturally leather-padded soles at the bottoms of our feet."

"Really?"

"It's true." He brought up his left leg, showing off his fully soled leather on his feet. "See?"

It was adorable to see Sunny's face lighting like a firework of excitement. "Oh my gosh! That is amazing! So you don't feel anything painful while walking along these rocks?"

"Or tree branches. But maybe the hot sand and the cold water; there are limits after all."

"Wow! That is so useful! And you're so small, it's no wonder you were able to remain hidden."

Truth be told, Bilbo was never used to purely positive praise. "Well, being small does have its advantages and disadvantages, depending on the situation."

"Well, anyway. I just wanted to say thank you for saving me back there." Her face dropped so low it may have been a rescinding tide. "I can still hear his voice, telling me lies about how worthless I am, and that my friends keep me around because they pity me."

Bilbo remembered the exact words Smaug had told her, and her tail looked like it wanted to fall off along with her depressed wings. He of all creatures knew just how powerful and destructive Smaug's words could be, and the exact feelings he experienced.

"Sunny, listen to me, because you need to hear this," he calmly said. "I know just how destructive his lies can be. He knows just how to perfectly play on your weaknesses, get them to stick in your mind like the slimy worm he is." The next part he anticipated was a painful memory. "I should know; I fell for his words myself, and it came at a heavy cost."

"Wh-what do you mean?" she hesitantly asked.

"I was hired as a burglar to steal from his treasure hoard, unfortunately he woke up as I was inside. I became overconfident in my abilities, causing me to give away information I wasn't meant to. And the last I saw of him, he declared that he was going to show us revenge as he flew off towards Laketown: a city of Men built over the middle of the Lake."

He anticipated that Sunny would make a reply, and when she did not, he continued. "At least, that was what I thought would be the last of him, until he appeared out of nowhere in Scarlet's kill ring."

He heard her gasp. "You were in the kill ring?! Wait, is that how you met Tsunami and the others?"

"Yes, quite by accident."

"It's amazing that you were able to survive something like that! I'm just glad Tsunami didn't kill you by mistake."

"Hey!" the SeaWing indignantly shouted.

The hobbit laughed at both instances.

"She almost did, actually," Starflight put in. "Didn't even allow him to say anything before she pounced on him!"

"Tsunami!" Sunny indignantly shouted back.

"Oh, come on! Not you too, Sunny! And I thought we were hallucinating!"

"How can more than one dragon have the same hallucination?" Starflight dryly remarked.

The banter between the dragonets was refreshing to the hobbit's mind, especially after the destruction in the Sky Kingdom. It was like he was back with the Company of the dwarves, without the horrific table manners of course. It was an amazing feeling to know that there were familiar things in this world of dragons: friendship, love…all that was good in any world, and more valuable than any kingdom hoard of gold and treasure.

In between the bantering between Sunny, Starflight, and Tsunami, he noticed that Clay and Peril were having a little heart to heart. The flaming SkyWing was looking very depressed, possibly she was confused about her place in the world now that Scarlet was no longer in power. And Clay, bless his heart, was doing all he could to keep her spirit as positive as it could be. Truly, they had both come to care for each other in the short time they had interacted, despite the vicious brutality of that situation.

He then noticed that a certain RainWing was missing from the group, and despite her bright colors could not be seen anywhere. He stood up from his rock and walked into the wooded area, right next to the waterfall.

"Glory?" he whispered into the trees. "Where are you?"

He got his answer when a noise caused him to turn around, right into the floating scowling head of Glory the RainWing. She immediately shushed his stifled yelp.

"What do you want?" she asked him.

"I just…" Bilbo took a moment to regain his composure. "I just want to know if you're doing okay."

He did not like how she deadpanned at that. "I've been held prisoner as a trophy displayed in front of bloodthirsty dragons to watch as they battle to the death. How do you think I'm doing?"

The hobbit now felt silly. "You're right. That was silly of me to ask. Honestly, I'm still at a loss for how to comprehend all…" He waved in general directions around his head. "This."

"You just gestured to everything around you," Glory deadpanned again.

"Exactly." Despite his embarrassment, he felt confident at his recovery. "Here I am having, thankfully, a friendly conversation with a dragon that is not looking to kill me at first sight."

"Well, I guess you could say that's a good thing."

"It is a good thing. I owe you dragonets, all of you, my life. And I vow to repay that in any way I can."

At that, Glory snaked out of the tree, changing her scales to match her original coloring. Her cold look was gone, replaced with immense confusion. Bilbo was likewise confused, except with how she managed to make herself invisible without the aid of something magical.

The RainWing noticed it. "Oh, yeah. I can camouflage myself to hide among anything. It's like RainWings are part chameleon."

"Oh." Truthfully, Bilbo had no idea what a chameleon was, but he felt that was not relevant to the current topic at hand.

"But anyway, I just wanted to ask: why?"

If Gandalf were present, then he would have said something like: "What do you mean, why? There are many ways to ask a person: why. Is something relating to yourself? Myself? Or how about the clouds in the sky and how they move on their own?"

Which is exactly what he asked her, much to his amusement at her confusion. "Really?"

He chuckled. "My apologies. I was just remembering how…an old friend of mine would say the most ridiculous things to the simplest of questions."

Glory cracked a grin, albeit faintly. "Yeah, I've been there."

Despite the amusement, he honestly did not know the whole truth as to why he decided to join this company of dragonets. "But really, in all honesty…I don't know."

"'Don't know?' What do you mean?"

"I mean…" He sighed, sitting down on a stray rock beneath a tree. "I'm a long way from home, and I have no idea how to return to it. It was by complete accident that I fell here, and bad luck that I was captured and brought to the SkyWing Kingdom. I would have been made into a stew had I not escaped in time."

"How did you escape, anyway?"

He thought about telling her about the ring, but something nagging at the back of his mind said that it would not be a good idea. Friendly dragons or not, the thought said, the ring belonged to him and him alone.

"It pays to be small," he replied. "And while I cannot change my skin color on a whim, I have been known to turn invisible on occasions."

"Magic?" she simply asked.

"Yes." He was surprised at how easily she replied with that. "How did you guess?"

She shrugged. "Lucky guess, I suppose."

"Oh."

So this world is also familiar with magic, he thought. Is it a different kind of magic or is it similar to that of Gandalf's or Elven magic? Is it maybe both? Neither?

He put the inquiry about magic away though, once he noticed the distress on Glory's face. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," she immediately replied. "It's nothing serious."

"Is it serious enough to warrant concern, or not at all serious to where you need a nap?"

"Will you stop it with the nonsense riddles?" she snapped.

"Sorry."

Glory then double backed. "No, wait, I…I didn't mean it like that, okay? It's just that…" She sighed, pinching her claw at the bridge of her muzzle. "You heard what Kestrel said, right?"

Bilbo nodded, choosing not to speak.

"Yeah, I'm basically the replacement for the SkyWing egg. And we both know that Peril's not coming along, for her sake as well ours. It feels like I don't belong anywhere, and everyone's always looking down on me. And besides, what can I do? I was never a part of the prophecy to begin with."

To Bilbo, there was a familiar story in her words, one that he knew all too well. It was something that he heard from his own words, as well as from someone else.

"Why should that matter?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Why should it matter that you are not a part of whatever this prophecy is you speak of?"

She was about to make a reply, but only got as far as opening her jaw before slowly closing it. "I…never thought about that," she replied.

"You want to know something else? I once thought that about myself."

"Really?"

"I was hired to be a burglar for a company of thirteen dwarves; quite unexpectedly, I might add. I know nothing of fighting, and had never been outside the boundaries of the Shire prior. Thorin himself said that I had no place among the Company."

"Who's Thorin?"

"He was our leader, and heir to the throne of Erebor; that was the kingdom that Smaug had taken from the dwarves many years prior."

"Oh. Wait, taken as in conquered?"

"Dwarves are about my height, maybe slightly taller. They are the fiercest warriors I have ever met, and their armies stood no chance when Smaug came. He either burned them alive or crushed them beneath his claws, and all to get the treasure."

Glory was silent for a while before she replied. "You said that before. I…actually thought you were joking. Guess not, I suppose."

"You can see why I was very reluctant to join," Bilbo grimly nodded. "I actually fainted at first."

He expected the embarrassment from Glory's chuckling, though he was grateful at relieving the tension from his story. "Yeah, I can see that happening."

"Yes, yes, have a good laugh. I really needed that, honestly."

The RainWing calmed down, evenly breathing to retain her composure. "Me, too."

"Anyway, I actually came very close to leaving the Company at one point."

"You did?"

"And I would have left, even if Bofur had not stopped me. Bofur was another one of the dwarves of the Company, only one of three members—besides myself—not descended from Erebor."

"So, what stopped you?"

"We got ambushed by goblins and taken far underground, where they would have killed us had we not been rescued. I got separated in the chase but I managed to catch up with the Company. It was then that I heard Thorin declaring that it would be best that I had left back for the Shire. I didn't blame him then, his reasoning was perfectly sound."

He shifted his sitting position as he paused, placing his chin against his palm. "What did I know of the world outside my door? I think the dwarves would have been perfectly fine with me leaving them right then and there."

Glory then sat on her haunches, sitting attentive to the hobbit's story. "So why didn't you leave? Thorin wasn't very kind to you; I would have left at that myself."

"I almost did, until I remembered something, something very important that made me very ashamed of myself."

Even now, that shame had returned for a vengeance as he regaled his memories to the confused RainWing. He had that same look on his face during that moment: behind the tree, listening to Thorin's anger, but there was also despair in his voice. It was that same despair that stopped him from leaving.

Glory was respectfully silent, nodding for Bilbo to finish.

"The dwarves had no home to return to. Erebor was their home, and it was taken from them. I had my armchair and my garden, all they had was each other: all longing to return to their true home underneath the Lonely Mountain. It wasn't fair that they had spent many longing years, just waiting to finally reclaim their homeland.

"That was exactly why I chose to remain with the Company. I chose to accept the job as a burglar even though I knew the dangers, because I wanted to do all I could in my power to help as much as I could."

He said no more, politely waiting for Glory's reply. Her cold nature did not allow much of her emotions to be displayed from her face, though he could see the confusion in her. He could not blame her; he saw a bit of himself in her: unsure of his place so far from home.

As he continued to think, as all hobbits do when they are resting in a single place for more than five minutes at a time, he thought about the other dragonets, and how he could relate to them all.

Tsunami was steadfast and strong, usually trying to take the lead when it came to life or death situations, though tended to be more impulsive. She was more like Thorin than Kestrel ever was, maybe even the spitting image of the Dwarven King in dragon form.

Clay was the largest of the five and could easily crush his enemies if he tried, but his heart of gold held him back from becoming the monster that everyone was calling him. He remained true to himself and therefore to his friends and loved ones, which were his friends.

Starflight was the bookish one of the group, usually the one with logical input and acted on thought more than emotion. Even if he was the more timid of the five, he was never afraid to stand up for himself, even to his friends.

Glory was the biggest mystery out of them all, yet there was the most of himself standing right before him. Lost in the wide world that does not want her, she is constantly reminded of how worthless she is in the grand workings of the world. A RainWing was never meant to be a part of the prophecy, nor was a hobbit to go sneaking into the treasure hoard of a dragon, so far away from the peacefulness of the Shire.

Sunny…oh, Sunny. She always tried no matter what to keep a positive outlook on the world despite the cruelties she faced from it at every turn. She was a precious creature…yes, the most precious of them all. He would protect her, no creature alive must harm her…no more. She represented all that was good in the world, in any world. She would love the beautiful sanctity of the Shire, where nothing could harm her even if they tried.

Bilbo suddenly shook his head. He did not like his thoughts of things being precious; it was like he was becoming Gollum: lost underground with no one but yourself and your grievances to talk to and about.

Sunny was a good dragon, maybe the best of dragons; maybe even of any creature. They could all be good friends if it came to that. They did not care for gold or power, they valued only the good things: friendship and peace.

His heart then fell into his stomach as he realized something else: his size matched his helpfulness. All he wanted to do was to finally return home and be done with adventuring for the rest of his life.

Can I return home after everything I have seen and done? he thought. Do I even want to return home? How can I return to what I have done before for years after all of…this blasted adventuring?

The Shire seemed so far away, practically unattainable, like a distant memory to be forgotten through the perils of growing up. The thoughts seemed to be a fantasy, passing by with the whispering wind, his childhood slipping through the rushing stream under the bridge.

Gandalf was right: I am not the same hobbit I was when I left.

While he was lost in his thinking, he saw that Clay had approached the two of them, with Tsunami right behind him followed by Starflight and Sunny.

"You okay, Glory?" he asked concerningly.

"Not at the moment," the RainWing replied, still frowning. "I'm having a hard time deciding where my place in the world is. All I know is that it's definitely nothing to do with the Dragonets of Destiny."

"That's not true!" Sunny immediately cried. "We want you to be with us!"

"Sunny, please," Tsunami sighed.

"I don't care if you're not a part of the prophecy, Glory," Clay said with a growing smile. "I'm still going to look out for you, because you're our friend as well."

"And it would really not be a great idea to split up," Starflight added, pointedly, "seeing as we're now Wanted dragonets."

Through her cold exterior, Bilbo saw a visible warmth that grew into a smile; he even saw her scales change color to match her mood, even if she attempted to suppress the moment. It was an interesting quirk, more so interesting than having naturally leather-padded soles. He stood up from his rock and walked out of the wood beside Glory, who gave him a thankful grin; like her other emotes it was subtle, but nonetheless appreciated.

"Thanks for that, Clay," she replied, sighing.

"Does this mean that you're staying with us?" Sunny asked hopefully.

Glory paused for a few moments, as if combing through the finite details of the major decision she was about to make. She looked across the faces of her friends, making contact with each of them. Bilbo did not want her to leave them, for her sake as well as for her friends; they all truly cared for each other.

At last, she nodded. "Yes. I am staying."

"Hooray!" Sunny cried, leaping into the RainWing for a hug.

Bilbo jumped clear just in time before the large bodies of the dragonets nearly crushed his own.

"Careful, you almost crushed Bilbo," Starflight chastised.

"Ah!" Sunny yelped, leaping off of Glory. She gave the hobbit a bashful apologetic smile that just about melted his heart. "Sorry."

How could he say anything to that? It would be beyond shameful.

"It's alright, Sunny," Bilbo kindly replied, dusting the sand from his coat. "There's no damage."

"Oh. Okay." She helped up her RainWing friend, looked at her grumpy expression and mute colored scales, and then hugged her again. "I'm so glad that you're not leaving us."

It was clear that Glory was not used to such affections, as evident from her scales changing colors once again, reflecting the embarrassment of the situation. Aside from Glory, everyone else found the scene to be heartwarming, affectionate, and even adorable.

In no time at all, the remaining friends joined in. "Uh, guys? Wh-what are you do—ing!"

Poor Glory was being smothered and crushed under the weight of each combined dragon, leaving nothing but her gasping head sticking out from the top of her affectionate friends. Her scales turned bright pink when she eyed the hobbit looking up, with the stupidest grin on his face.

"Thanks a lot, guys," she groaned. "Now Bilbo's laughing at us."

Unfortunately, that was what set Bilbo off onto a laughing tirade. It must have been one of the most hilarious moments of his life, because he could not recall a moment before when he had last laugh unabashedly at the expense of another. Thankfully, he kept himself balanced on his legs even with the uncomfortable grainy sand between his toes. He finally calmed himself when the dragonets broke apart their hug of friendship.

"Sorry about that," he said, clearing his throat.

"Sure you are," Glory mumbled.

"So, where are we going?" Bilbo asked the group.

"First, we are going to find someplace where we can be sheltered from any possible SkyWings tracking us," Tsunami replied, before pointing an accusing talon directly at the hobbit, "where you are going to tell us everything: who you are, what you are, where you come from, and more importantly, how much you seem to know about that…that—whoever that was that attacked us in the Sky Kingdom!"

He figured that course of action would have put itself somewhere into the mix of everything. If they were going to bring him along on their adventure, then they would have to know just how dangerous Smaug was; to them and their world itself. He owed them that much, considering that the fire drake had directly attacked them.

"Then…" Tsunami placed a talon over her face, taking a few calming deep breaths before continuing, "then we'll follow the river to the Delta, where we'll find Clay's family in the Mud Kingdom."

There was an array of excitement and dread that flushed all over the MudWing, from his muzzle down to the tip of his tail. He was going to meet his family for the first time in his life after spending years hiding underneath a mountain.

Did they not have any sun down there? Bilbo wondered, shuddering at the thought.

"Be nice to Bilbo, Tsunami!" Sunny chastised.

"I am being nice!" the SeaWing argued.

"Guys, guys," Starflight spoke up. "We should discuss this when we get to somewhere hidden and secure. There could be way too many dragons after our heads and wings."

"Right," Clay nodded. "Let's go."

The MudWing offered to pick up the little hobbit, but Bilbo politely refused. He followed the other dragonets behind Clay as they followed the shoreline around the calm wood from the waterfall. He could only wonder what the Mud Kingdom would look like at a closer level.

There is so much of this world that I have not seen, he thought to himself. I wonder what else is out there, and what other kinds of dragons exist?

Of course, there was still the problem of being hunted by the SkyWings. Or why were they hunting them? Maybe they were remaining loyal to wherever Scarlet was and acting on her behalf, or they were on orders from Smaug. Both possibilities were likely, and neither was an outcome he wanted to see happen.

"So, I know Glory can turn invisible like I can—" Bilbo said.

"Camouflage actually," Glory interrupted.

"…right, sorry."

"No, it's alright. I understand why you'd say that. I'm not offended by any means."

The hobbit was relieved at this. "Okay. So I can turn invisible and Glory can camouflage, but what about the rest of you?"

"I can camouflage, too," Tsunami replied. "Not like Glory, of course, but I can hide underwater and it will look like I'm not even there."

She was talking about her dark blue scales, he realized. It made enough sense for it to work.

"I can hide in the shade of the wood," Starflight said, "so long as there aren't any open clearings or eagle-eyed SkyWings."

How I wish the Eagles were here to help us, he sadly thought.

His attention was brought over to the shoreline where he saw Sunny rolling around in the sand closest to the waterline, getting her entire body soaked in the mucky material. Gone were her bright yellow scales and in place was nothing but mud; more so than Clay MudWing. She looked so happy at the sensation, not caring if it was ridiculous or not.

"I feel all goopy!" she exclaimed.

"You look just like the mud, though," Clay responded.

Bilbo was not sure if that was a compliment or not, so he added one of his own.

"A SandWing in the sand, her natural home."

Sunny looked up with wondrous eyes at the little creature. "Thanks, Bilbo! I feel right at home here: lots of sand, all my friends are together, and we're going to fulfill the prophecy along with our helpful little hobbit!"

"And it is an honor to be your 'helpful little hobbit', Master Sunny."

He even made a kind little bow, which caused Sunny to giggle. He liked hearing her laugh, it reminded him of how much good there was in the world, even in such a cruel one as this.

"Great, now he's Sunny's servant too," Glory remarked.

"Wait, how is Bilbo going to stay invisible and keep up with us at the same time?" Clay asked.

"I was hoping you would carry me, Clay," Bilbo replied.

"Yeah, well, to hide I'm going to swim in the river the whole way through, which may take ten, twenty, or even thirty minutes."

"Oh."

"As a MudWing, I can hold my breath for up to an hour at most, which I don't think is good for you. Unless there's something about hobbits that can help—"

"No, no, there's no such thing," Bilbo replied, shaking his head.

He sighed. This was becoming less easy of an escape than he had hoped.

"And I don't want to get Bilbo dirty," Sunny added.

Bilbo honestly did not want that to happen either. He could not even remember the last time he even bathed; all this adventuring was becoming more and more aggravating by the day.

Then, he got an idea. "I'll go with Starflight and see if we can find a safe place to hide," he suggested.

"Yeah, I'm good with that idea," Starflight nodded, agreeing.

"I'll find us some food while we're at it," Clay offered.

"Nice that you're thinking with your stomach, but thanks anyway," Glory said.

"Can one of you perhaps breathe fire?" Bilbo asked, "because I can't eat any food raw."

"Yeah, I can," Clay said.

"I'm sure there will be plenty of firewood in the wood you can find," Starflight added.

"Thanks, you two."

With that, Bilbo and Starflight went their separate ways with the rest of the group, if only for a short time. The wood was calm, much more greener than Mirkwood, with plenty of comfortable and welcoming plant life. The trees were green and growing instead of sickly brown, and the air was more open and clear, like a sunny day in a warm and loving dream.

It was as if he was back in the Shire.

He took a deep breath in. "This feels so good," he sighed happily.

"What?" Starflight asked.

"All of this," the hobbit waved a hand in a general manner all around them. "Everything here is so calm and peaceful. It's places like this that make one reflect about it all, and to me it's a reminder of everything that is good in the world. In a sense, it reminds me of home."

It was not the first time that he had reminisced about his home in the Shire, fact is it was both a comfort and a curse: it kept him going forward so far beyond what he knew, and it caused him to become severely homesick. Just remembering all the comfort and leisure that his life once was was confusing; was it good that he wanted to go home?

No, of course not, he admonished himself. Everyone wants to go home. It's not terrible to want to.

"What's it like?"

In his distracted thinking, he stumbled across a few twigs and sticks in the undergrowth. He had a growing pile beneath his arm, and was just reaching down to pick up a small log when Starflight interrupted him.

"What did you say?"

"I was just wondering what your home was like," the NightWing dragon answered.

Home, and all the comforts of it all; something of which Starflight had most likely never properly experienced, and by extension neither of the other dragonets.

Bilbo picked up the log, feeling ashamed with himself. He understood plenty now that the dragons had never had a home, and it would not be prudent to be constantly on the mind about that one singular topic. And besides, he felt like he needed a distraction from his own worries as well.

"I come from a village called Hobbiton, in the land known as the Shire. There you find simple creatures known as Hobbits."

He paused, trying to gather all his memories in one place. Sometimes it was a much easier task, and other times his being was still reeling with very high energy, making it easier to forget such memories.

"We hobbits are simple folks. You would usually find us tending to our fields of crops: carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes, potatoes, and so on. We would also tend to our farm animals: chicken, pork, mutton, that sort of thing. Not a lot happens there, there's nothing unexpected about any of it; that's where I find true beauty in the world.

"It's very calm and comforting: the kind of place you would want to settle down and raise a family, or to get away from all the…"

"Crazy, exciting, and unexpected adventuring?" Starflight suggested.

They both chuckled at that, Bilbo more especially, considering all the ironies of his own life and how they had all brought him here to this one moment.

"Yes, exactly that, Starflight. You would mostly find us hobbits living in holes beneath the ground."

"Holes? Seriously? You?"

Bilbo heartily laughed. "Don't worry, they are not nasty, dirty, wet holes filled with oozy smells and stink of dirt, nor are they filled with sand uncomfortably shifting between your toes. They're quite comfortable, with a nice pleasant kitchen and dining room with a wide open pantry that has an array of wonderful food, a nice bed to sleep the whole night in and dream happily about the day's adventures, and a cozy living room with a warm hearth to sit down and read a good book, or just talk about things in the world with the best friends you could ever have."

He found himself remembering his own unexpected party of dwarves: how they made a mess of his dining room and cleaned his pantry bare, made fun of his valuable dishware while singing rudely about his misery, and sang the most wonderful song he had ever heard after scaring him faintly about the coming adventure. So many little stones had been laid on the stream, and he had not realized just what would truly become of his own life, that it had been changing all around him in that one night.

"We keep to ourselves in our own little pocket of land in the world, content with what we have and not becoming involved in business outside the Shire that do not concern us halflings; that's what everyone else calls us, we call ourselves Hobbits."

"This is all very interesting information," Starflight grinned. "If only I had my scrolls, I could write all kinds of notes. Your world sounds amazing, Bilbo, and I love how you tell your stories; they appear to be simple but you make them sound…wondrous in a sense."

Bilbo was so flattered that he could not speak a single coherent word for a few moments. Maybe it was because he had just been given a genuine compliment from a dragon, or perhaps it had to do with what he was complimented on. It was a rarity of a feeling for the hobbit; it was more than a simple "well done" or "wonderful job, Master Baggins".

"Heh, t-thanks, Starflight," he politely replied. "That's the first time anyone's ever told me that."

"Well, it's true," the NightWing continued. "I've never heard anyone tell a story like you did."

"I was only describing the Shire; it wasn't anything more than that."

"Nonsense, I can tell you have a wonderful story to tell; maybe involving how you arrived in Pyrrhia in the first place."

"Pyrrhia?"

"Yep, that's what we call this land. It's nowhere as welcoming as the Shire…in fact I've never seen much of the world; neither of us have."

"Really? Why is that?"

Starflight shrugged. "As you heard from Kestrel, our eggs were stolen from our nests and we were raised inside a mountain by the Talons of Peace as the fabled Dragonets of Destiny. I don't think either of us liked living inside that mountain, or any of the dragons of the Talons of Peace."

"I can see why, with a dragon like Kestrel for a guardian."

"We never did find out why she hated us. Frankly, I don't care; I've got other things to worry about."

"I can see why you would think that."

How amazing that a hobbit, probably the smallest of the big folk, would be having a civilized and friendly conversation with a dragon of all creatures. Even after burgling from a dragon, this simple walking through the trees and talking of past memories would be completely unbelievable to the hobbits back home.

"I could use some pipeweed right about now," he sighed.

"Pipeweed? What's that?" Starflight asked.

"It's a kind of plant that is mostly used for smoking tobacco."

"So…you guys can actually breathe fire?"

Bilbo chuckled. "No, it's only smoke. What you would do is fill the head with the tobacco, set it alight—not too much but not too little, mind you, and you would calmly inhale the smoke in a few breaths at a time. It's very soothing to the nerves, but a bit overwhelming for your first time."

"Wow," Starflight awed. "I don't think I would ever be able to do that."

"Perhaps you could. All you have to do is make a pipe that's big enough for your…claws. The only problem is that there may or may not be any tobacco plants in this world."

"It sounds like something that would seriously mess with your lungs."

"Only if you're still growing. It's not so bad when you're all grown up; at least around when you would come of age."

"When would that be?"

"I don't know about you dragons, but for us hobbits we don't come of age until thirty-three."

"Thirty-three?!"

Starflight's outburst had been so sudden and loud that any surrounding birds suddenly took flight up and out of the wood. The silence of the wood hung over the pair like a raincloud about to burst open, except for the hobbit trying to stifle his amusement.

"Then…then how old are you?"

"I should be around fifty-two years of age," Bilbo replied. "It seems that in all my adventures I had missed my own birthday."

"I don't even know when my birth—hatchday, I mean, was. I meant to say 'hatchday'." The dragon pinched his talons at the bridge of his snout. "Moons, sometimes it's easier for me to talk with my scrolls instead of actual dragons. Don't get me wrong, I love my friends—we're practically adopted siblings, but you know how it is."

Bilbo could only agree many times over. "Believe me, I understand. The dwarves of the Company were all friendly, hardstrong, and dependable in a conflict, but there were many times where I felt I needed some peace and quiet from their…pigheaded stubbornness, and very poor table manners."

"That sounds a lot like Clay," Starflight chuckled. "That MudWing is always thinking with his stomach."

As the two continued on their little walk in the woods, they soon happened upon a larger open mouth of a deep cave. At the offset, there was not much to be seen, aside from a few rocks scattered across the ground—though they appeared to be more smooth than rugged. Still, Bilbo remembered the last time he had slept, or at least tried to, in a darkened cave, and that ended with himself and the company being ambushed and captured by the Goblins of the Misty Mountains; then again, was the thunder-battle any better?

Starflight took a step in, peeking his head into the darkened mouth, causing Bilbo to tense up. "It seems big enough to fit all of us," he said.

"Make sure to check the entirety of the cave first," Bilbo advised, his hand tightly gripping Sting. "You never know what might be lurking in the darkness waiting to pounce."

The NightWing tensed at his words, but nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that…that sounds like a good idea. Thankfully, it's still daytime so it shouldn't be as dark."

Starflight began slowly walking into the cave, and if it was not for the sunlight seeping through the roof of the forest the pair may have been completely shrouded in the shadows. With his other hand, Bilbo ran it along the walls checking for any sort of crack in the walls or on the ground, or hole or slight dip in the rocks; anything that could act as a potential secret place for monsters hiding from the sunlight.

"It looks very dark to me," he murmured.

"You know," Starflight mused, "us NightWings can actually see in the dark better than most other dragons."

"Really?" Bilbo awed.

"Yeah, though not as good as SeaWings."

"Why is that?"

"I suppose it's because they've adapted for the deeper depths of the ocean, where the sunlight barely reaches, even on a cloudless day."

Just the mere thought of the deep depths of the ocean caused the hobbit to feel crushed by the shadows all around him. And there was the fact that many monstrous unknown creatures lived in the ocean and survived by hunting all of their prey, and a lone hobbit would be the perfect choice for a meal.

He shook his head clear and walked outside, checking the surroundings of the cave. "It looks like it's well hidden from the canopy of the trees," he said to Starflight.

"Good thing that the cave's empty," the NightWing replied. "It's the perfect place to hide from the SkyWings and spend the night. I'll be right back with the others."

Starflight left Bilbo alone in the cave. The Hobbit hesitated where he stood, remembering full well the last time he spent the night in a dark cave; hopefully being on the ground instead of inside a mountain would work to his benefit this time. Through the thick canopy he could see the setting sun waning into twilight, hoping that the others would not be long in case of unsavory creatures or beasts that potentially lurked around.

Thankfully, Starflight returned sooner with the others than he had expected.

"Are you sure about this?" Tsunami asked.

"I checked to see if it was empty, which it is," Starflight replied, "and the thick canopy should add some protection from any potential hunting groups for us while we sleep, both from the sky or in the trees."

The SeaWing looked annoyed at Starflight's persuasive logic but said nothing more. Bilbo took his cue to follow behind Tsunami and Glory into the cave with his load of firewood. As his eyes adjusted, he placed his load in an open space big enough to fit all six of them and got to work setting them in the proper shape for a good fire. Behind him, he heard the sloshing of muck, followed by Sunny prancing into the cave and sitting down in a favored spot, where Starflight also sat down. Clay then arrived, carrying the largest animal in his claws, but the most extraordinary part was that it looked like a pig.

"Is that a pig?" Bilbo gasped.

"Yeah," Clay replied, placing it down by the firewood. "There should be plenty for everyone."

"That has got to be the biggest pig I have ever seen."

"Really? It looks normal sized to me."

"Are all animals dragon sized in this world?"

"Well, unless you count scavengers, and possibly insects—but I'm not too sure about that—then I would say yes."

"Are animals hobbit size in your world, Bilbo?" Sunny eagerly asked.

He chuckled at her wondrous personality. "Well, that would depend on the animal itself. Pigs, burrows, chickens, dogs…usually they are about up to our waist or knees, though we only concern ourselves with farm animals mostly. Horses however are much taller than hobbits and much too large for us to ride, so instead we can ride ponies which are younger horses."

"What are horses?" Starflight asked.

"Hmm…how can I describe? They are magnificent creatures that are as strong as rock and fast as the wind, and immensely loyal to their riders."

"They remind me of dragons," Sunny chipped in.

Clay then lit the firewood, giving off a beautiful orange and yellow glow that illuminated the darkness with a welcoming comfort, as if he had returned to his hearth of his hobbit-home. Bilbo sat back like the rock was his very own sitting room armchair.

Sunny took a leg from the pig and held it over the fire. Once it was cooked enough, she broke off another piece and gave it to Bilbo.

"Thank you, Sunny," he said politely.

"You're welcome," she smiled in reply.

Admittedly, it could have used some seasoning to improve the flavoring, but as he was lost in the wildness of the outside world, it was a part of the same storyline of adventuring; at least it was filling to his stomach and that was what mattered the most.

"Okay, now that we're all hear," Tsunami called to attention—

"Aren't you going to eat something, Glory?" Sunny interrupted.

"You know I can only eat fruits," she countered.

"Excuse me!" Tsunami growled.

"So, Bilbo," Clay interrupted as well, biting off a chunk of his meal. "What's your world like?"

"You know," Starflight put in, "he's been telling me about his world and it sounds very different and interesting."

"Really?" Sunny beamed. "What's it like?"

"Oh, come on!" Tsunami growled again.

Bilbo chuckled at the antics of the five friends. Taking another bite, he told the dragons what he told Starflight about his home of the Shire and the simple livelihoods of the Hobbits. Something about sitting around the campfire and eating while telling stories was comforting to the Hobbit, like a reminder of simpler times. To his surprise, the five dragonets were captivated by his storytelling; it was kind of embarrassing.

"Wow!" Sunny beamed. "You actually live underneath a hill?"

"I can almost taste the smell of your garden food," Clay smiled. "I didn't even know you could grow your own plants, and get food from them."

"I'm kind of jealous of you, Bilbo," Glory admitted.

"Are you okay?" Sunny softly gasped.

"How so?" Bilbo asked.

"I'm fine, Sunny. Really, I am," Glory said, then sighing. "I mean, you lived in the most comforting and loving place imaginable, and you seem so content with…yourself."

"I'm…sorry."

"It's nothing, really." The RainWing shook herself, hiding away her growing misery to present an inquisitive face. "So, how'd a hobbit like yourself end up all the way out here? Did you suddenly want to go dragon-hunting one day?"

Despite his concern for Glory, Bilbo actually chuckled at her question. "You know, there's a funny story behind that. At the time, I was very…annoyed about the whole affair but in hindsight, it was quite funny."

"Come on, we don't have all day," Tsunami droned.

"Sorry. Well, anyway…ahem. It started one day while I was sitting outside my home and smoking my pipe weed. Minding my own business, I was not expecting anything unexpected to happen, until something unexpected did happen, because who should come walking along the path up to my house but Gandalf the Gray."

"Gandalf?" Starflight asked. "That's an interesting name."

"Is he also a hobbit?" Sunny added.

"Oh, good gracious! I would never hear the end of him if he was," Bilbo laughed. "No, he's a wandering wizard. Much taller than the average hobbit; about as tall as a Man, or Human if you prefer. Kind of like your Scavengers; why do you call them scavengers?"

"I think it's because they're so small and they scavenge around, usually stealing stuff from dragons, and they are hard to catch because, you know, they are much smaller than us," Starflight explained, shrugging. "I guess we never thought to call them Humans because we can't communicate with them."

"Fair enough." Bilbo put on a thoughtful look. "Though I never had any trouble communicating with Smaug. You see, in Middle-Earth there are many races each with their own language. However, there is also what we call the Common Tongue: a language for which most races can speak and understand each other with no troubles."

"What other races are there?" Starflight asked.

"There are Humans—which I have just explained—Dwarves, Elves, Orcs, and probably many others that I don't know about. Dwarves are just about my size but only a little bigger, and also more stronger and hard headed, and are more prone to…extensive facial hair. They are the greatest miners and blacksmiths and very much loyal to their kin. Then there are the Elves. They are as tall as humans—sometimes taller—with more refined features making them more…fairer than humans. They are also the wisest of the races, are immortal, and are capable of using…some kind of magic."

"Immortal? You're serious?" Tsunami remarked.

"Well, I can imagine that some Elves have been around long before the First Age," Bilbo countered, "and I have seen Lord Elrond being very knowledgeable about weapons just by examining them. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"My story begins one day when Gandalf happens across me while I was minding my own business. I say to him, 'Good morning,' and he replies with, 'What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning or that this is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or perhaps you feel good on this particular morning, or this simply a morning to be good on?'"

"Gandalf sounds like a weird…uh, wizard you called him right?" Glory remarked.

"I like Gandalf. He sounds funny," Sunny giggled.

"Well, yes, Gandalf is a particularly strange fellow. Always whisking away young lads and lasses on grand adventures and all that sort." Bilbo chuckled at his own joke. "We hobbits have no care for adventures. They are nasty uncomfortable things that make one late for dinner, and you are bound to leave something behind when you leave."

From the way he shook his finger for emphasis most of the dragonets laughed at the humorous story. Tsunami and Glory were the only indifferent ones throughout, though there were possible ghosts of smiles on Glory's face; Tsunami looked kind of despondent for some reason.

"Although there are the Tooks: a hobbit family that is known for their adventurous natures and vast sums of wealth accumulated because of them. My mother, Belladonna, was a Took, which makes me half-Took, hence why I am more adventurous than my Baggins side of the family. Anyway," Bilbo continued, "Gandalf said that I was to expect some company by dinner time, which I was not pleased to hear, but as he left shortly thereafter I forgot all about what happened. And then…" he paused, as if for dramatic effect.

"And then?" Sunny pressed, shining bright.

"Go on. Tell us!" Clay added.

"Well…that night, while I was preparing for my dinner, I heard the doorbell ring. I thought it was Gandalf at first, and then I opened my door. Instead, it was a Dwarf. 'Dwalin, at your service,' he introduced himself…what's so funny?"

"Nothing! It-it's nothing!" Sunny giggled. "It's just…did he really sound like that? 'At yourrrr serrrrrrvice?'" And that giggle became a complete laughing fit, joined in by Clay while Starflight was scratching his confused head. The two dragonets in the back were beginning to look as if they were actually enjoying the story, though not by much considering the ridiculousness.

Bilbo laughed as well. "Okay, so my dwarvish accent is not something I expected. Anyway, I was confused about Dwalin's arrival, but being the gracious host that I am, I welcomed him inside, and he helped himself to my dinner…the one that I prepared for my dinner."

"So you just…let him eat your dinner? Just like that?" Tsunami incredulously asked.

"Well, not only was he larger and stronger than me, he did arrive with an assortment of sharp and…deadly weapons. Definitely a trained warrior."

"Ah, now it makes sense," Glory nodded.

"Then my doorbell rang again. I thought it was Gandalf for sure, but instead it was another Dwarf, though slightly older than Dwalin. It was his brother, Balin."

"Dwalin and Balin? That's an odd naming convention," Starflight noted. "But I guess it makes sense, considering that they're brothers."

"And then the two of them started rummaging through my pantry, picking and choosing whatever food they liked and not bothering to clean the mess they were making. Then the doorbell rang again, and I was sure that it was Gandalf this time. Instead it was another pair of dwarves: brothers Fili and Kili. They knew Dwalin and Balin, as the four of them started gathering up my tables so they could, ahem…'fit everyone'.

"The next time my doorbell rang, I was just at my wits end, thinking that some clothead was playing a very unfunny joke on me. Imagine my surprise that the remaining dwarves had all piled on my door and all over my parlor, and who should be behind them all and out of the way but…Gandalf."

All of this reminiscing on past events at the hobbit's expense was, surprisingly, a source of entertaining mirth. Even despite the memories of the dwarves making his poor head spin at every chance they got.

"So, all together I had one wizard and thirteen dwarves for company for dinner that evening. Dwalin, Balin, Fili and Kili I already mentioned, and there was also Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and finally Thorin."

"That's a lot of dwarves for one hobbit to keep track of," Glory snarked.

"You right," Bilbo nodded, "especially since they cleaned out my pantry, made a mess of my dining room from all the food they threw about the place, and they didn't even bother wiping their feet on the doormat so my house had mud tracks all over the place."

"Sounds like Clay after his third course at dinner," Tsunami remarked.

"Don't blame me if I'm a hungry MudWing!" Clay rebuked.

"Sure, but we can blame you for having the fattest stomach," Glory added.

The group all shared a bout of laughter at the MudWings expense, which he took in stride as he ate his second morsel of the pig in embarrassment.

"As you can tell," Bilbo chuckled, taking deep breaths as he calmed down, "I was very frustrated with all the dwarves making a mess of my home, and to add further insult to injury, they started singing a song while they were throwing my antique dishes and silverware over my head. I thought for sure they would have broken something valuable."

"And did they?" Glory asked.

"No, thankfully, no they did not, even if they mocked me to death in their song."

"And can we hear the song?" Tsunami smirked sinisterly.

"Oh, yeah. That's something I just gotta here," Glory added, likewise maliciously.

Under the scrutiny of the dragonets, the poor hobbit's face burned brighter than his tomato plants during the harvest season. If the dwarves were (somehow) present, they would have laughed at him and sang regardless.

"I don't know," he sheepishly smiled. "It's a…rather embarrassing memory for me, even if it is…slightly hilarious in hindsight."

"Seriously?" Glory snickered. "Even after what happened in the Sky Kingdom, you're embarrassed because of a silly little song? What's there to be embarrassed about?"

"Well…it-it was about…blunting my knives."

"What was that?" Tsunami asked. "I didn't catch that."

Bilbo grumbled to himself. These dragons will be the death of me. "Blunting my knives," he repeated, much louder this time.

As expected, there was a short silent moment before the cave was filled with the sounds of laughing dragonets. Even Sunny laughed with her friends, which melted the poor hobbit's heart at such a precious thing.

"Blunt knives? Seriously?! Of all things, you were worried about blunt knives?!" Glory laughed.

"Well, that and smashing my plates," Bilbo replied, attempting to save grace. "And treading my carpet, and smashing my wine bottles, and pouring my milk all over the place."

It took a long time for the dragonets to stop laughing, some more than others. The infection of it all caught the hobbit in the fit of it all, which probably went against his honor more than anything else. In all honesty, Bilbo had a weakness for music, a weakness that had developed that very night in his home, whether he would admit it or not. The dwarves could sing the most jovial music fit for a party, and then one of great sadness and tragedy, of longing and hope.

Hobbits could never sing as wonderfully as dwarves or elves.

The dragonets must have noticed his change in mood. "Is something wrong, Bilbo?" Sunny asked.

The hobbit sighed, then continued his story. "After dinner was finished, and my plates and knives were cleaned, polished and stacked, we got down to business. Apparently, the reason why Gandalf called the dwarves to my home was to hire my services as a burglar, or as I prefer to call it, expert treasure hunter."

He paused, knowing what was coming next. Despite the pain and terror that was from the Sky Kingdom, he knew he had to continue. He ran a hand through his burly hobbit-hair, breathing in to calm his nerves.

"Is something wrong?" Sunny asked concerningly.

Poor dragonet: she had put others before herself at every instance. Could she handle this sad and grim tale? Would she be forever haunted by the evil of Smaug?

Bilbo shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, Sunny." He breathed in again, ready to begin. "After supper had been cleared, all fifteen of us gathered around my dining table to discuss logistics. Their plan was to infiltrate the Lonely Mountain, wherein resides the kingdom of Erebor. For years, it had prospered under the rule of Thorin's father Thrain and his grandfather, the king, Thror. From what Thorin told me, his family is descended from one of the first dwarven kings: Durin the Longbeard, they call him."

He smiled as he remembered his adventure into the kingdom. "The halls are larger than life, they are so large that all of you could explore and still find new things to discover for days at a time. Dwarves are great miners and skilled craftsmen. The kingdom's prosperity came from the vast wealth they mined underground which they used to craft fine quality weapons and further expand their kingdom. All would come to bring gifts to honor Thror's rule: men and elves alike. In fact, there was a city of Men just below the halls of Erebor that shared in the kingdom's prosperity. The city of Dale endured a long alliance through trade in return for defending the kingdom from destruction.

"The mines never once halted in their production, and as the kingdom grew they kept finding all sorts of valuable jewels and treasure: from rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds, iron, gold, and many many more. They would add them all to their halls, and their accumulating treasure was something they were most proud of, but there was one jewel in particular that they valued above all else."

He feared that the mention of treasure and untold wealth would cause some deep instinctual desire to erupt from the gathered circle of dragons. Perhaps he expected them to be drooling from their mouths as if they were staring at the most delectable they had ever seen in their lives. Nothing much seemed to happen, which he took as a good enough sign. The prospect of greed was something that made him very uncomfortable, with the knowledge and experience having seen it all for himself.

"What jewel are you talking about?" Glory asked. Bilbo hoped that she did not catch him wincing at the question.

"Was it some kind of family heirloom?" Clay added. "I know stuff like that's very valuable to dragons."

"In that case, you are mostly right," Bilbo replied. "The dwarves kept mining into the Mountain as I told you, and that…was where they found it."

By accident, or by some hidden purposefulness to it, he paused for dramatic effect. The intention was realized by the looks of wonderment from most of the dragons. Gandalf would be impressed, or at least hopefully he would.

"There was no other jewel like it. It was so unique it was given a total of three names. The miners that discovered it named it The Heart of the Mountain. King Thror named it The King's Jewel, a symbol of his family's right to rule and ensuring the kingdom's eternal prosperity. It is mostly known to all as the Arkenstone. Neither a diamond or emerald, it glows with a light that is unlike the sun, and reflects like the surface of a lake."

His face fell, his hands firmly gripping his legs. "But all of this wealth came at a heavy cost. Thror's mind had become clouded as his love of gold overtook his common sense as his mind became sick."

"'His mind became sick'? That can happen?" Starflight asked.

"Greed can make a person do terrible things, Starflight," the hobbit answered grimly. "It can make you go mad, forget all that you love and care about, and drive you to do terrible…horrible things. And where sickness thrives, bad things will follow."

This is it. There is no turning back from the point of no return. Be brave, Bilbo, for this story carries great tragedy.

"Doubtless that is what brought him."

"Brought…him?" Sunny winced, her voice cracking with fear.

The mood of the entire cave changed with that simple sound. Even Tsunami and Glory were apprehensive about what they were about to hear. If it was enough for the dwarves to curse his name and all of dragon-kind, who knows how they would react?

"The first thing they heard was noise like a hurricane coming down from the North, as that was where they found their home. The pines groaned and cracked on the Mountain as the winds moaned further on into the night. And then he came out of the sky as he rained fire down on the city of Dale. The Men stood no chance against his might, and the entire city was destroyed, but they were not what he was after.

"Dragons of Middle-Earth are not like most I have seen in this world. They care not for the little creatures that are smaller than them, not even as they are crushed beneath their claws or burnt to ash from their dragonfire, as it is the most destructive force that I have ever seen. They are drawn to gold and other such precious things like flies to dead bodies—"

"Oh, that is so wrong to think about," Tsunami cringed, placing a claw over her eyes.

"And they covet them for as long as they live. But aside from their fire and near indestructible armor of scales, they have two wicked and deadly abilities. I don't know if I would call them magic, but I don't doubt it. If you but look into their eyes, then they can take control of your mind and steal your memories, using their slithering voice to worm their way in."

"Honestly, that's not so different from what Scarlet was doing," Clay offered, shaking his head in remembrance. "There was something about the way that she spoke that caused her words to stick in my head, even when I didn't want them too."

Bilbo continued. "Perhaps it is not as exclusive as I thought, but then there is this. As I said, a dragon covets their gold for as long as they live and guards it with their lives, and should they be killed they leave behind a curse on their treasure hoard."

"A curse? You're telling me that your dragons can curse their treasure?" Tsunami asked disbelievingly. "What are they: animus?"

Yet again, that word was thrown around. From what he could gather, he figured that animus was referring to a type of magic that was a part of this world of dragons. There was a possibility that Middle-Earth dragons possessed their own magic, but the only magic that he knew of belonged to the Elves and from what he had seen of Gandalf on occasion.

Then again, there was also his lucky ring, and most rings were not known to cause the wearer to become invisible.

"I don't know what is this animus you speak of," Bilbo replied, "but Dragon Sickness is a very real curse. It fills a person with thoughts of greed. I've never cared for gold, so I praise my luck that I never experienced it.

"Anyway, Smaug had destroyed Dale, leaving the kingdom defenseless. He burst through the front entrance, crushing the guards beneath his claws. Nothing could stop him once he was set on having the treasure for himself, not even an entire army of strong-headed dwarves. Erebor was taken, and the dwarves were driven out of their home by the ferocity of Smaug. By complete luck, Thorin had been outside the kingdom that day when he attacked, and his father and grandfather had escaped using a secret entrance. The dwarves had never forgotten that day, and they sang and told stories of the day when they would reclaim their homeland from the dragon."

Poor Sunny was on the verge of tears. "Those poor dwarves. Would no one help them?"

"The Men of Dale were scattered, having been nearly wiped out completely. Erebor also had good trading relations with the Wood-Elves of Mirkwood, but their king Thranduil brought them no aid. I don't think even an army of elves would have stood any better chance against Smaug than the dwarves or men. Thorin has resented the Elves ever since."

"That's…just like with the MudWings and SeaWings," Clay said, despairingly.

"How so?" Bilbo asked.

"I don't know much, but apparently there is some kind of land dispute at the border where the Mud and Sea Kingdom cross. And…that's all I really know. Hey, Starflight, do you have any insight on this?"

"Well…it's just like you said," the NightWing shrugged. "That, and they are on different sides of the War."

"Oh, right I almost forgot. The SeaWings are allies with…Blister, right?"

"Yeah, I think that checks out."

"Uh, pardon me?" the hobbit asked. "Did you just say…War? What…what sort of a war is it?" The subject of war was a topic that deeply scared the hobbit. He knew nothing of what the untold destruction it caused, having only heard about it from stories from others. In truth, he had hoped to never experience it for himself for as long as he lived. What scared him the most were the motivations behind it all: land disputes, decades-long feuds, and even hatred. They were all completely ridiculous, and that was what frightened him the most. And now these poor dragonets were at the forefront of a war, spanning across who knows what?

Starflight answered with the most sincerity. "The War for the SandWing succession," he explained. "It's been going on for more than thirty years."

Thirty years?! Bilbo internally screamed. I cannot even fathom how wars can go on for so long.

"It all started one night in the SandWing kingdom when a group of Scavengers—or humans, sorry—broke into the palace to steal their treasure, but while they were escaping, Queen Oasis caught onto them and in the chaos one of them killed her. I don't know if they ever found those humans."

"After that, there was an opening for the throne, except it was between her three daughters: Burn, Blister, and Blaze," Tsunami added.

"Well, now that Burn's dead, it's now just between Blister and Blaze," Glory interjected.

Already, the politics of this dreadful decades-long war were confusing the poor hobbit. It didn't surprise him that a dragon queen had been killed by a human, nor any less that they had attempted to steal her treasure. He had an image of a larger sized Sunny sleeping on a pile of gold with a little sized figure of himself sneaking forward towards the hoard, when suddenly the sleeping Sunny woke up as her piercing golden eyes caught him in his tracks. He shook himself clear of the dreadful dream; Sunny was absolutely not that kind of dragon, she was much too kind and precious for that.

"So, I'm confused," Bilbo said. "If this war is between the three—well, two—heirs to the SandWing throne, why would they ally themselves with the SeaWings and SkyWings?"

Glory shrugged. "Maybe the SandWing throne is that prominent and involved in everything in Pyrrhia."

"Blister is allied with the Sea Kingdom, Blaze is allied with the Ice Kingdom, and Burn is—was—allied with the Sky and Mud Kingdom," Starflight listed off. "As you saw, Burn was well known for her immense strength and aggressive intimidation; it's no wonder she and Scarlet were allies. Blister is the more intelligent and manipulative of the Sisters and has been rumored to be trained as an assassin. Blaze is well regarded for her beauty but is known to be…ditzy, so to speak."

SeaWings, IceWings, SkyWings, MudWings, and SandWings thrown into the middle of it all, Bilbo processed. But, wait: aren't there some that are missing?

"What about the NightWings and RainWings?" he asked.

"No one's seen any trace of the NightWings for years, except for Starflight," Clay answered, nodding to his friend in support. Then he turned to Glory, and suddenly he became apprehensive about his answer. "And well…the RainWings…"

"No one really cares about the RainWings," Glory huffed angrily. "We're regarded as nothing more than lazy scraps of fruit; we can't even eat meat either."

"But you're not lazy, Glory," Sunny insisted. "You're one of the strongest dragons I know, and we can't finish the prophecy without you."

The redness in the RainWings scales disappeared almost immediately as Sunny gave her unwavering support. It did not look as if Glory was put off by it, even though it was hard for her to look at Sunny's smiling face directly. It was easy to understand that she was embarrassed by the unfortunate and rather unfair names that were given to her race of dragons, which did not apply whatsoever to Glory herself.

And to Starflight: what could have happened to the NightWings that caused them to go missing for countless years? And even stranger still: if the NightWings had been missing for so long, how had the other dragon races known about them and that they existed? Surely they would have been regulated to only being named in stories or legends, and yet the other dragons knew of the NightWings as a point of fact instead of an embellishment.

"I agree with Sunny," Bilbo nodded. "I see great strength in you, Glory, and not one hint of laziness in your character. You remind me of Thorin, in a sense: very strong, loyal to his kin, and very no-nonsense."

Once again, he gave the RainWing a supportive kindly smile, the very same that his father, Bungo, had burrowed into his mind as a child. He remembered that his father and mother always told him to respect everyone with kindness and to never look down on anyone that would be considered lower than him, like the Gamgees. The Gamgees and Baggins' were like comparing a great tree of magnificence to nothing but a small brush; a lesser hobbit would treat the family like cattle. But the Gamgees had serviced his father with great excellence and the most quality gardening on his side of the Brandywine: every weed was uprooted like it was never there, the grass was always kept at an even length, and the flowers provided vibrant colors to split up the otherwise dull scene of nature.

It was heartbreaking to think that these wonderful dragons were drowned in impossible expectations all the while their supposed guardians would hammer over the heads with hurtful words heavier than the largest boulder in the Misty Mountains.

Glory twitched her wings while scratching the back of her neck as she thought over Bilbo's compliment. She gave a little chuckle, easily missable. "I don't know how I should feel about being compared to a dwarf."

Bilbo hastened to further explain his reasoning. "W-well, as I said, Thorin is Thror's grandson and therefore heir to the throne of Erebor. Fili and Kili are the sons of his sister, and would usually confide in Balin."

After Clay licked his talons clean—something Bilbo was placid about but remained politely silent—he smiled. "I guess that's kinda like Tsunami, too."

The SeaWing made no comment. Instead she kept looking in Bilbo's direction as if accusing him of a dreadful crime. He supposed that Clay made a point, and perhaps she did remind him of his old friend. Or perhaps he was just missing his friends.

"So, what happened next?" she asked. "You must have taken the job anyway."

Bilbo amused her. "Yes. By the next morning, the dwarves had eaten breakfast and left, and thankfully they cleaned up after themselves. But I also found they had left the unsigned contract on my table, and…well…" He took another long ponderous pause. "My father was a Baggins but my mother was a Took, as I said before but I may as well offer a further explanation. Belladonna Took was descended from the Old Took, the oldest hobbit ever to have lived and I remember that he would host these wonderous Midsummer Night parties. The Tooks are a family of Hobbits that are well-known for being extraordinary and more adventurous. In that moment, the Tookish side of my blood won me over, because I soon found myself running out of my door as fast as my hobbit-feet could carry me with the signed contract in hand. I caught up to the Company as they were traveling through the forest bordering the Shire and handed the signed contract to Balin, welcoming me into the Company of Thorin Oakenshield."

When was the last time he had ever referred to Thorin by Oakenshield? It must have been back in that forest all those months ago. A much more worthy name to his accomplishments than "Son of Thrain, Son of Thror" could ever contest, and a more proven representation of the character in every perfect way imaginable: a pillar of strength despite what has been dropped on his head or tried to smite his arms off.

"And that was how your adventure started? That was very brave of you, Bilbo," Sunny beamed.

Every time she smiled it was always with a compliment or an uplifting offering of support, the perfect ray of sunshine for the garden to grow to its fullest potential. Bilbo scratched an itch on his nose while failing to conceal his embarrassment.

"Yes, well, as you can imagine I was rather…irritable at the start, seeing as I rushed out of my home without a hat, coat, walking stick, any sort of coin or food, or even a pocket handkerchief."

"What? No food?" Clay gaped. "How could you survive without food?"

"Technically, the wilderness provides all sorts of nourishment in the form of animals and plants," Starlight suggested.

"Like nobody already knew that," Tsunami exasperated.

Starflight hung his head like he was trying to shrink to a size smaller than Sunny. It was best that the hobbit kept his reservations to himself when confronting an aggressive dragon like Tsunami, regardless of their first meeting.

He cleared his throat in an effort to continue. "Well, uh…ahem, anyway…that was how my adventure began. We traveled for a few days until we left the Shire behind us with the Wild Land ahead of us. The world outside the Shire was…astonishing, to say the least. The land was less greener from all the waylaid rocks and boulders scattered all over the place, and the plants and trees were given more freedom to populate however they chose. But the most surprising aspect was the Misty Mountains. At every turn and everywhere I looked the Misty Mountains were always in range."

He scratched his head in remembrance. "Actually, as I was being taken to the Sky Kingdom, I looked down at the mountain range and it was like I was flying over the Misty Mountains all over again. It was…quite an experience, let me tell you. But I am getting ahead of myself.

"About a week into our adventure we had stopped to camp on a peak overlooking a dense forest. It was a clear and calm night—as calm as sleeping without a comforting bed and pillow and instead over hard dirt can be. And, well…I suppose that the moon provided a welcoming glow that fairly relieved some of my distress. As you can guess, I was far from comfortable so I struggled for sleep, as did most of the Company. Thorin was especially high-strung compared to the rest of us; he took the watch that night and would not stop looking over the wood below, listening for every sound and wisp of noise."

He scratched behind his ear, then hung his head in reverence. "I don't blame him, considering what he has been through. Not just from Smaug, but from Orcs."

"Orcs?" Tsunami asked no one. "That's a new one."

"They're nasty disgusting fell-creatures. About as tall as Men they live and sneak through the darkness that birthed them. You can't reason with them and have no concept of morality, and are willing to fight to the bitter end regardless of their losses. They are the essence of monsters and live in the nightmares of their enemies."

"I'm guessing Thorin didn't have the best experience from Orcs," Starflight added.

Here you go again, Bilbo trembled. "Balin was the one who told the story, as himself and his brother, Dwalin and a few of the other dwarves were there when it happened. After Smaug had taken Mountain, King Thror led his people to retake the ancient Dwarven kingdom of Moria: another vast mine built into the depths of the Pass of Caradhras, as Gandalf told me.

"Except that…the kingdom had already been overrun for years beforehand by legions of Orcs. And their leader was the most vile Orc to have ever lived: a giant of an Orc from the Northern region of Gundabad, pale as snow with piercing ice blue eyes and covered in scars from all the battles he raged. He was known as Azog the Defiler. Taking the kingdom of Moria wasn't enough for him. He had sworn an oath to destroy the ancestral line of Durin."

"Why would he…want to destroy a family line?" Sunny asked.

"I don't know. Maybe the dwarves of Erebor and the Orcs of Gundabad have an ancient grudge and Azog vowed to uphold that grudge. But regardless, the battle elevated to such a ferocity I can't even imagine—or maybe I just don't want to stomach the horrible thought of it all. Azog was on a rampage. Swords and armor of iron metal clashed on either side, and many dwarves were slain. Even…"

Once again he made a painful pause, if only because he remembered the pained expressions on the Company from those that faced the horrors of that battle. It took such great strength for those dwarves to keep from tearing at the haunted memories.

"Even Thror…the King; beheaded by Azog."

He could hear the triumphant roar of that monster as he held the King's head aloft over the battlefield for all to witness, and the horrified scream of Thorin as he looked to see what was left of his grandfather. It would be unbearable for the natural hobbit, it would be unbearable for Bilbo on any given day. Seeing the beheaded Burn was terrifying to see, but all it did was make his nerves insufferable. To have seen it was not enough: to have felt what Thorin did in that moment would shatter his entire world in the snap of his fingers.

"That's…that's so horrible!" Sunny cried.

"Three Moons…I can't imagine how terrifying that must have been for him," Clay pained, looking like he was about to throw up.

The rest had very sullen looks of despair. Starflight shuffled closer to Sunny, trying to relieve her sorrows as well as his own. The color of Glory's scales changed to a deeply sullen dark color albeit very faintly as she tried to suppress it further down. And Tsunami…once again her expression was hard to read but it was clear to see that the story of Thror's death had shaken something fierce. Perhaps she related it to herself being stolen from her own mother as an egg; maybe it was something else entirely.

The hobbit rallied to continue. "Thorin's father, Thrain, had been driven mad with grief. Nobody knows what became of him after that, if had been killed or captured. The dwarves were without a leader, and the Orcs had made a sudden push forward against them, cutting them down like weeds in a garden. And even worse…Azog had set his sights on Thorin."

"Oh, Three Moons," Tsunami seethed, cursing.

"That is not good," Glory added.

"The size and strength of his opponent had beaten Thorin to the ground," Bilbo advanced. "He had no weapons but the armor on his person and only an oaken branch as a shield against the vicious onslaught of Azog."

"Only a tree branch? That must have been a very sturdy tree branch to survive that onslaught you mentioned and still be intact to protect his entire body from harm," Starflight surmised.

"It was lucky that he found it in time otherwise…" Sunny sighed, desperately trying to hide the pain on her face. "What…what happened to Thorin?"

After what felt like the longest moment of his life, the hobbit felt a relieved smile itching across his face. "The oaken branch kept Azog at bay for just enough for Thorin to grab a wayward sword from a fallen dwarf and swing it wide, smiting the Pale Orc's fighting hand clean off his arm. That was the moment that the tide had turned, and the dwarves had pushed the Orcs back into Moria and won the battle."

His face became sullen and remorseful. "But there was no grand feast with songs of victory that night for the dwarves, for their death was too high for them to grieve. Brother lost brother, father lost sons…I can't even imagine how horrible it must have been for those that survived the massacre. And at the end of it all, the dwarves looked to Thorin, as he held the very same oaken branch that protected his life by the smallest of chances, to lead them forward. He had lost his father and grandfather, he was suddenly made into the apparent King, but he did not drown in his sorrows. He pushed forward, taking whatever work he could find, leading his people further and further West, settling into the Blue Mountains, close but some distance away from the Shire. That must have been about ninety years ago, a long time before I was born. Goodness gracious, now that I am saying all of this out loud it really puts all of these things into a perspective that I did not see before."

His face full of emotion, he reached down and unsheathed Sting, laying down across his lap with the light of the fire emanating a wondrous glow across the metal that could only come from an Elvish weapon. The size of his face in the metal was the perfect image of how insignificant his life of comfort was compared to the never ending hardship that Thorin had lived for more than a century of Dwarf-years.

"Thorin toiled for years upon years, a lifetime of work to provide for his people to become the king that he was always meant to be, and they rallied behind him when they needed him the most, and he needed them the most. He sacrificed so much…and in all that time his mind would always turn West, never forgetting how his ancestral home had been stolen from him and his people."

Sunny was almost crying. "Poor Thorin. Thrust into becoming king after losing his own father and grandfather after their home being taken by…by that…" She swallowed, fighting back tears. "By that monster!"

Clay and Starflight reacted immediately. Rushing to her sides, she calmed significantly. Glory visibly tensed with rage induced anger as her scales turned a faint shade of red again. Tsunami was visibly shaken by the story, which came as a surprise. Perhaps her realization of being of royal blood had changed her perspective about herself; may she remain humble and not follow the darkness that consumed Thorin.

The hobbit was near in tears himself at the sight of Sunny. He could not remember the last he ever felt so much shame. Goodness knows what Gandalf would have done in his place; he was only a simple hobbit, lost outside his front door. How could he have been so callous as to cause poor Sunny even more grief?

"Do you feel better?" Clay calmly asked.

Sunny sniffed, wiping her eyes with a claw. "Yeah, I'm…I'm okay. Thanks, guys."

"Anytime," the MudWing smiled.

The hobbit's fingers masked the little Elvish runes forged into the steel. He wished the moonlight would shine even so deep into the cave, but he knew it was an impossible one; perhaps the moon would shine so brightly that it would have disguised the shame on his face.

"Bilbo? Are you okay?"

Sunny's voice pulled Bilbo out of his clouded mind, only to be ever more ashamed at how concerned she was for his own care.

"It's alright," he sighed. "I was simply lost in my own thoughts; remembering my many adventures."

"Hey, Bilbo?" Starflight asked.

"Yes, Starflight?"

"I was wondering about that little sword of yours. It doesn't look like any sword I've ever seen."

A hint of pride flashed in the hobbit's eyes. He held Sting more aloft for them to view, smiling broadly at the fascination in most of them. "You would be right on that, Starflight. This sword was forged from metal and fire unlike your world. In the hands of any of the Big Folk—Men, Elves, Dwarves and the like—it is but a simple dagger, but it is the perfectly sized sword for a hobbit. This…is an Elvish Blade."

"Wow! That sounds cool!" Sunny beamed.

"It looks about the size of a claw," Glory remarked.

"The shape of the blade is very interesting. I have not seen another weapon with its exact shape," Starflight analyzed.

"So it was made in another world. Big deal," Tsunami scoffed.

Bilbo counted on that sort of reaction, for it further fueled his growing pride. He actually chuckled, much to the SeaWing's confusion. "That may be true, Tsunami, however this very sword has very special qualities…and is in fact much older than myself."

"Seriously?" Glory arched her brow.

"It was forged during the First Age of Middle-Earth in the high-elven city of Gondolin; whoever used it before me I don't know. It was forged for the Goblin Wars, made of the sturdiest steel, highly durable…and it glows bright blue whenever Orcs are nearby; Goblins and Orcs are basically the same race, the names are used interchangeably."

Starflight stared in awe. "I can't believe that such a small weapon has such an intricate history and abilities."

"Okay…that's pretty cool," Glory mumbled, scales slightly turning pink.

Tsunami, however, grumbled even further still. "Greeeeaaaaat. More animus objects."

"I'm still unfamiliar with this 'animus' magic you keep mentioning," Bilbo remarked back at her.

"Animus magic is something that dragons inherit from their families," Starflight explained. "Essentially, animus dragons use it to create spells that they can use however they want with whatever or whoever they want. Although, if they use it too much…it can destroy their very soul."

A sudden chill shivered all around the hobbit. After traveling for months on end with Gandalf, he should have feared that there was a dark side to the magic he wielded. Surely, for how long the wizard has lived, that his soul would be just fine? Unless there were wizards who thought to use their magic for ill-use? But there were only five wizards… All in all, this particular ponder was too much thought inducing, apt to lead the poor hobbit to the bottom of the deepest lake,

"Oh, my goodness. There is magic from where I'm from, but there was never any mention about 'soul-destruction.' Could keep one up for days on end."

"Yeah, that's…that's it," Glory mumbled.

"So where did you find it?" Tsunami asked.

"It's…not one of my proudest moments," Bilbo replied sheepishly, "but I found it in a troll hoard."

"Trolls?" Clay asked.

"Trolls are giant brutes, about as big as a house—human-sized, that is, immensely strong, but dim-witted. We actually encountered three trolls on our adventure. We were a few days out on our adventure and had stopped to make camp. Gandalf had gone ahead, and in the meanwhile we were searching for anything to eat for the night. It was then that we spotted the light of a fire in the forest, where three large trolls were arguing over what to eat. Thorin had ordered me to burgle something from them, which went very poorly, unfortunately; they caught me almost immediately, and in no time had rounded up the rest of the dwarves, trapping us in sacks."

"Oh, no!" Sunny exclaimed.

"Hmph, that figures," Glory mumbled.

"Well, as you can tell, it was quite the predicament," Bilbo continued. "The trolls continued to argue further and further about how they wanted to eat us: either skin us, boil us, cook us, eat us raw, or sit on us one by one and squash us into jelly."

"Oh, that is just disgusting on a whole other level," Tsunami groaned.

"Eating raw meat is a very surefire way for a dragon to get very sick," Starflight noted. "Unless you're an IceWing, I suppose…"

"But the joke was on them," Bilbo snickered, "because they were arguing for far too long that—thanks in part to Gandalf—the dawn had creeped over them and in an instant…had turned them all to stone."

Just for the fun of it, he waved his hands in open fashion like he was putting on a magic show for a crowd of children. He fought to suppress his laughter again at the faces the dragonets gave him. Now why couldn't he have this much fun on the adventure before this one?

"The sun turned them to stone? Was it some animus spell?" Starflight asked.

"Not that I know of," Bilbo shrugged. "Creatures of Middle-Earth such as Trolls, Orcs and the like, prefer to stalk during the night and resent the day; perhaps their bodies physically cannot stand the daytime. I might have to ask Gandalf about that, he would know more about it than I would."

"And…how do we know you're not exaggerating?" Glory asked.

"The statues of the Trolls still stand in the same position when they were frozen when we left them. It was good timing that Gandalf came back when he did; he had gone ahead to look ahead, you see. With that, we decided to loot around their horde."

"They had a horde?" Clay asked.

"A very small one, but with a sizable amount of treasure, gold, jewels, and an assortment of armor and weapons." He grimaced at the memory, nearly gagging. "Augh, the stench was completely unbearable."

"Clay and Tsunami could have taken them on, and defeated them no problem," Sunny said.

"Well, the Trolls would definitely pale in comparison to Clay's size specifically," Bilbo added.

"Aheh…well, uh…maybe we would," Clay blushed.

At last, Tsunami stood to her full height. "Alright, so long as that was the last of the storytelling, we all need to get some rest."

"One of us should keep watch outside the cave, just in case another dragon comes too close to finding us," Starflight noted.

"Agreed," Bilbo nodded. "I'll take the first watch. I had the best eyes of the Company. The rest of you get as much as a good night's sleep as you can. We certainly will need it in the coming days."

The hobbit stood to his feet, dusting off his coat and stretching out the joints in his bones that had gone slightly stiff. Clay lightly stamped out the small fire, careful with the glowing cinders and residual smoke. The rest had spread out around the small space to lie down: Sunny nuzzled under Clay's giant wing while Starflight nestled down next to her, Glory went off a little ways away in her own little corner, and Tsunami was slightly reluctant to lie down. Bilbo offered some comfort to her, but she brushed him off and went away, finally settling down on Clay's other side, with Glory on her other side as well.

The hobbit stepped outside the mouth, sitting down on a small rock near the edge. Under the cloudless night and through the canopy, he could see the twinkling stars dotted all around the crescent moons…wait, there were three moons. Perhaps that was where the saying came from: the literal three moons in the night sky. They served as a reminder to the hobbit that he was indeed in another world away from his own, but despite the heartache sinking his soul he thought they looked beautiful.

I wonder if they have magical properties as well, he pondered. He remembered the last light of the moon of autumn on the doorstep, how it shone upon the rockwall displaying the keyhole to the secret entrance.

He wondered if perhaps this was what Mirkwood was supposed to look like, before the monstrous spiders took it over, spreading their sickness among the natural order and beauty of things. It was a wonder the Wood-Elves were able to thrive for so long in the center of all that rotten ugliness; perhaps the constant vigilance of all the attacks from the spiders was the reason they were so untrusting of strangers to begin with. Looking ahead into the trees, there were faint small glows of yellow light, which grew in quantity as they continued to approach him. They were faint light bugs, though dragon-sized—about the same size as his palm; lighting up the forest floor like little candles on a birthday party.

Bilbo leaned back against the rockwall, chuckling at the memories of the Old Took's Midsummer Night parties. He dug his hands into his pockets as he looked to the sky, until his fingers touched something slightly larger in one. It felt smooth, but unlike the smoothness of the ring. Curious, he opened up his coat to peek inside, only for a faint glow to emanate from inside, a glow that he recognized all too well.

No…it can't be. Please let it be a trick of the mind, he pleaded.

Swallowing everything inside, he reached a hand into the pocket and pulled out a small stone. It glowed unlike the surface of the sun—a blinding glow as white as the snow in the winter—and reflected like the surface of the lake. Images of seeing the glow under piles of golden treasure flashed in his mind, and the slithery voice of the Great Dragon of the Mountain taunting him over the little gem. And then he saw the face of Thorin—his angered face at not having the stone in his very hand, and all his cursing over the gem having not been restored to its proper owners; he remembered as those thoughts had slowly consumed his waking state, to the point where he would remain awake at the late hours and barely allow himself time to eat.

The sight of it sitting in his hand made Bilbo want to be sick.

He cursed himself for taking it out of the pillowcase he used to hide it in.

Confound everything, Bilbo Baggins, he seethed. You should have given it away when you had the chance, now I shan't dare part with it.

Somehow, someway, he had to return the Arkenstone. Neither it nor the poor unfortunate hobbit belonged in this world.