Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: I am SO sorry for this taking forever! I'm slow. I know. Also, I don't have a beta, so I apologize for any mistakes I have made. Feel free to point them out to me!

I didn't mean to, but I seem to be merging Smaug more with Sherlock than I ever had the intention to. Guess it's just my headcanon, then?

Bilbo moaned in misery. He much preferred to be unconscious if being awake meant having to deal with a head-splitting ache. He recalled his skull connecting with a wall with such force that it might have been considered a lucky thing that he had woken at all. Something Bilbo couldn't bring himself to appreciate at the moment.

Managing to open his eyes, Bilbo found himself still in the crystal adorned cave. The ground he was lying on was cold and uncomfortable, small pebbles pressing against his back in a way that got onto his nerves. It made him groan and moan and yearn for his own comfortable bed back at Bag End.

"You quite done lying there?" Someone suddenly asked from the vicinity of his pounding head, making Bilbo's mind jolt into alert even when his body was less able to do the same. It took an effort, but he managed to tilt his head enough to peer in the direction he assumed the voice had come from.

A man stood there, draped in a felt that Bilbo vaguely remembered snatching from somewhere within Erebor with the prayer that no one would miss it in its absence. The man was tall –as all humans were, but this one seemed to be particularly so- pale in skin and dark in everything else. He kept looking at Bilbo in an annoyed kind of familiarity even though the hobbit couldn't say he had ever seen the man before.

And what was a man doing inside the mountain in the first place? The absurdity of it all was starting to make him wonder if his headache had been acquired from a night of heavy drinking and the man as a poor decision made during the wee hours of the night.

"You wearing any pants?" Bilbo asked just to make sure.

"No," answered the other without blinking.

A hysteric kind of laugh escaped the hobbit, one that turned into a whine when it managed to double his hurting.

"What is going on?" Bilbo moaned.

"You hit your head," the man said, both uncaring and annoyed at having to state the obvious. "It is not fatal enough an injury to kill you, though I cannot be sure if other unsavoury ailments will occur."

"That is… good to hear. Sorry, who are you?"

The man narrowed his eyes as if he attempted to look down at Bilbo in every way possible. "Perhaps you suffered a drop in intelligence?"

Bilbo wanted to feel insulted, he really did. But instead he found his energies better used for trying to sit up and see where he could go from there. Perhaps starting by exiting the mountain would be a good idea? All the trouble he had gotten into was starting to wear on him, not to speak of the depressing darkness that continued on forever. With Kili awake, the dwarf would be sure to see his brother get better as well.

No reason for him to stay if fate seemed to be so against it, then.

"Again, I am sorry, but I have no idea who you are," said Bilbo irritably while working the palms of his hands against his eyes in an attempt to straighten his thoughts. "There was no one down here besides the dragon and I, how did you even find-"

Suddenly his eyes grew impossibly wide; a trait of hobbits' that got them out of trouble a lot of times. Bilbo scrambled to stand, looking around frantically.

"Where is the dragon?" He asked dumbfounded.

"Have I made such a fleeting impression that you will not recognise me even if I stand right before your eyes?" The man questioned, amusement starting to peek from somewhere within the irritation.

Bilbo's throbbing mind was already putting two and two together without his consent after noting the absence of an injured dragon and knowing the impossible odds that a man would wander down to the roots of the mountain. The more the man spoke the more he heard the similarities in their manner of speaking and the feeling of arrogance radiating in waves over him just felt so familiar. The conclusion came and hit him hard, knocking down any rational thought behind which he tried to hide it.

Shaking his head, Bilbo breathed, "It cannot be. You can't be Smaug."

"Did you rule out the impossible?" Asked the man while looking almost pleased at Bilbo's wild conclusion.

Head still shaking, Bilbo was starting to feel a tad nauseous. "A dragon turning into a human is impossible."

"Improbable, maybe," relented the man. "But nonetheless possible."

Improbable, Bilbo thought, had been a man who could turn into a bear. But then, even as a man, Beorn had very much resembled a bear to begin with. To him the impossibility was the difference in body mass between Smaug and this man.

Other than that, though, there really was starting to be a lack of reasons for him to think it untrue. All the studies of dragons he had consumed had failed to mention a word of shape shifting, but then, all of the information in them had been observed from afar for obvious reasons and he doubted the situation he had currently managed to land in was a repeat of history in the first place.

"So you are Smaug, then," Bilbo accepted, thinking that it could be argued that no hobbit ever came this far from the Shire and thus Bilbo couldn't claim to be one. So maybe Dragons could shift their shape as well as he could abandon all reason and run off to a mad adventure. "Is there a reason you chose to look like a human?"

"Of course there was a reason for this," the dragon said, scrunching his nose in disgust as he did so. "Why would I choose to dishonour myself like this if it could be avoided?"

"Dishonour?" Bilbo asked, not understanding the other's complete dislike towards his alternate form.

"Having lived all your life as you now are, you would not be happy if you turned into an orc, I imagine," Smaug said, looking Bilbo up and down as if he still couldn't quite figure out what a hobbit was supposed to be.

"But surely there is a difference between being turned into a human and an orc," argued Bilbo.

To which Smaug only huffed, "Our enemies might differ in looks, Bilbo Baggins, but their intentions towards us are the same."

Which was of course true. Though Bilbo doubted the dragon would have so much enemies could he mind his own temper and lust for gold. He didn't mention any of it to the dragon, though.

"Men are by far the bravest race, do you not think?" Looking down at his new body, Smaug let out a mocking laugh. "And by brave I mean stupid. They come in ones, did you know, with such reasons as half a perishing kingdom or to save a damsel I have long since eaten. And while I much like the shine of their armour, it often gets stuck in my teeth."

The tone in which the dragon was talking with was so casual that Bilbo might have completely missed how he was talking about slaughter and eating men. An involuntary shudder ran through his body as he wondered whether or not this all could end up with Bilbo himself on a dinner plate. Then again, he had faced this situation a couple of times before, all from which he had managed to talk himself out of.

Be it trolls in the forest or odd creatures at the bottom of mountains, this was just a repeat of his earlier lived experiences, and if those had taught Bilbo anything, it was that distractions and changes of subject worked like a charm.

"Why is it then that you chose to take the form of a man if you dislike it so much?" Bilbo asked, not having to feign curiosity since he really kind of wanted to know.

"This is the only other form I was given," Smaug muttered while inspecting the pale skin of his new arm.

"Given? By whom?"

"The one who made me," seemed to be the only thing Smaug was willing to say about the matter.

Exciting as all the new information was for his academic soul, Bilbo decided not to question the dragon any further on its heritage. The time and place were all wrong for that, if there would be a right time for it at all. Besides, more than he was interested in taking notes and writing books, Bilbo was keen on keeping himself as much in the good graces of creatures that were terrifyingly dangerous as was possible.

Which brought other problems for him to talk himself out of. For now that his head was clearing and curiosity held at bay, there came the inevitable question of what was going to happen next. Bilbo knew he needed to get out of the mountain and start his way back home now that he had had quite enough of sneaking around in the shadows, and while that alone would be a bit problematic, there was quite a bit bigger of a problem staring at him not from many feet away.

He just had to save the dragon, didn't he?

"Your reason for using your human form, then?" He barely dared to ask, continuing on from their previous conversation.

"It is the only way for me to leave this mountain with you," came the answer, almost word to word what Bilbo was dreading to hear.

"I suppose you need stealth to leave, but how you got down here in the first place is what I'd like to know."

"I fell into the lake when I was shot," shrugged the other. By following the dragon's gaze Bilbo noticed the edges of what he assumed to be a pool of water. It was in an area he had never dared to go to because that would have meant having to walk past Smaug. "I was ready to die at the bottom of it, for I would much rather be out of their reach than be hacked to pieces in their attempt to rid me of my waistcoat. But then I saw an underwater cave and decided to see where it led. It took all of my strength and put out my fire, but I found myself here, at the bottom of the mountain."

"Sorry, put out your fire?"

"I was a Fire Drake from the North. Surely you know what water tends to do to fire?" Smaug said dryly, look darkening as he continued, "And now I'm not even a dragon anymore."

It was hardly something Bilbo could sympathize with, or even grasp the severity of the other's losses. So he just stood awkwardly silent, stretching his fingers in and out of fists with a troubled look on his face until Smaug out of the blue asked, "Shall we go then?"

Smaug didn't seem to understand his situation as he walked through the deep, dark tunnels of Erebor. His legs were long and he walked in a brisk pace, leaving Bilbo struggling to keep up with his injuries and other disadvantages given in birth.

They were a sight of insanity, he was sure. A naked man prancing through a dwarven kingdom like he owned the place! Followed by an invisible hobbit, no less.

"Thirteen dwarves were once trapped in elven dungeons, did you know this?" Bilbo whispered as loudly as he dared after the dragon, a bit out of breath from the exercise. "And do you know how they escaped? Do you? I helped them, that's how!"

"Fascinating." Smaug allowed, tone dry enough to emphasize his lack of interest in the matter.

"Isn't it though? Because they couldn't have just strutted out of there, no. See, that's how folk get caught."

"Have you got an actual reason why you are telling me this?" Stopping absurdly, Smaug kept his gaze forward even when Bilbo couldn't stop in time and ran into his back. His instinct to apologize furiously took the bite out of Bilbo's earlier complaining, but he did his best to continue as he was now that Smaug had finally stopped to actually listen to him.

Or if not him, then the very faint sound of footfalls that could be heard echoing along the hallway. Which was bad news. Very bad news indeed. Though not entirely unexpected.

"We need to hide," Bilbo said while doing his best not to panic, taking a hold of the dragon's elbow and shaking it like it could help the other understand the point of his words better.

"And where do you suggest we hide?" The dragon asked, standing still unblinking while he stared on into the direction of the approaching sounds.

It was a long, straight corridor they had been walking in without any turns or twists anywhere. Being dwarven made, the walls of it were smooth and polished and kept in such symmetry that there were no crooks or crannies where they could hide in. The only two options they had were to either go back from where they came or to be caught.

Bilbo was opting for the first choice, no matter if he knew that they would most likely end up falling into a loop where they tried and tried to exit the mountain while more and more dwarves became to populate its hallways, gradually narrowing their chances of ever succeeding.

Smaug on the other hand seemed to be completely blind to their lack of options, gaze hardening with each step the dwarves took in their direction and nostrils flaring as if his body was trying to breathe out fire.

"They are in my mountain," it hissed, a manic look growing in its eyes as fury had him take a step in the opposite direction to which Bilbo was desperately trying to pull him into. "The filth that dare to call my treasure theirs."

No matter how Bilbo struggled, holding onto the dragon's arm and digging his heels to the stone floor to stop him, it was all in vain. He was hardly a match to the strength that kept dragging him along like he didn't exist.

"Calm yourself! We'll get caught," he pleaded.

But Smaug wouldn't listen. He only raised his voice and quickened his pace, all sense of reason gone when he yelled, "I will kill them! Every last one of them!"

By now they had been heard. The footsteps came to a brief halt, after which they began to run. There was shouting and the clanking of armoury and weapons. Smaug seemed all too ready to face the guards; as if his blind anger alone could somehow compensate the fact that he had been recently severely injured, was in an unfamiliar body and had nothing but a felt draped over that body, hardly protecting him even from the cold touch of air.

Bilbo had no idea whether or not Smaug could carry out his threats. But he did know that if the dragon tried to, then the dwarves would respond in kind and someone would end up dead. To stop it from happening the hobbit's panicked body –quite by its own accord- ran up to Smaug's side and rammed itself against the dragon's. Unprepared and in mid step, Smaug's balance gave out and he slammed against the unforgiving stone wall.

"Calm!" Bilbo shouted at him even though his own heart was in his ears and breath coming out in quick hales. Smaug turned to face him, eyes and pupils wide.

"Calm," Bilbo commanded again, putting his hand flat on the dragon's pale chest where his heart lied, pressing down hard as if he could calm it down by reducing the space in which it had room to beat in. "You're the underdog now. You can't take them on."

"They took my treasure," Smaug chocked like his human body was trying to grieve without the mind understanding the concept of it. "They took everything. I hate them. I resent them!"

"Not everything," Bilbo tried to assure him, desperately thinking of a way out of their situation before the guards reached them. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

"And what is the point of living like this? Dishonoured? Disfigured?" Smaug laughed like a man who had given up.

"None of that now," Bilbo tried to scold even though his voice was cracking. "Here is what we are going to do: When the guards come, you are going to let them take you. Don't struggle, don't fight them, and for the love of all, don't provoke them."

The sound of the guards running came already from uncomfortably close, and Bilbo had to take a step back and slip his ring on in order to avoid being caught. Smaug said nothing, just kept on staring at the place where Bilbo was and suddenly wasn't.

"I will come and get you," Bilbo continued. "I promise I'll come for you and we'll leave this mountain together. And you will see that there's much more to this world than a mountain full of treasure."

Still Smaug said nothing, but Bilbo had no other choice but to take it as an affirmative that he had been understood.

Then, just quiet enough that the guards couldn't hear it from their own shouting, Smaug said, "Perhaps I was wrong about you, Bilbo Baggins."

"You are cruel after all."

Bilbo found himself in a familiar situation where he was running through the dark paths of Erebor as quickly and quietly as he could. The increased number in population did not ease his attempts, nor did his lack of stamina which had him wheezing and panting even after short distances. At one point he even nearly suffocated himself while trying to hold his run out breath when four guards walked past him.

Dangerous business, that.

Still, he had to hurry, because the dwarves were bound to jail Smaug for being beyond suspicious, and dwarven cells probably meant being surrounded by twenty tons of rock in every direction. There would be no sneaking out of that monstrosity, so he had to somehow get to the dragon before the worst happened.

The thought of apologizing, knocking out the guards and then apologizing again came to his mind, but while he probably could do it to a couple of them while invisible, more would come and become aware of his existence. Besides, that could give Smaug some ideas he wasn't willing to see the consequences of.

So hated it as he did, Bilbo had to go to the one ally he had in the mountain. It felt like taking advantage of the loyalty Kili had pledged him, forcing him to take part in a mess which Bilbo would rather keep him well away from.

But he was running out of both time and choices, and so he took in an involuntary breath of relief when he found Kili standing outside the old medical room where he slept with his brother. He wanted to shout all the way from where he was approaching to get Kili's attention, but knew he couldn't, so instead he kept approaching silently as always.

Kili seemed to be out of it. He was staring at the door of the room without really seeing it, shoulders in a slight slump instead of his usual straight and confident posture. It was an odd sight altogether, Bilbo realised, seeing the prince just standing there on the hallway instead of being in the room from where he had had difficulties leaving for so long.

"Kili?" He asked hesitantly once he had reached the dwarf, his sudden appearance out of nowhere startling the other. Kili's body jerked and his head whipped to the side, eyes frantically searching for the source of his name being said.

"It's Bilbo," he whispered to state the obvious which had somehow escaped the dwarf. Hearing the name of the hobbit seemed to snap Kili out of whatever daze he had been in, and a small smile grew on his face like it was an automatic reaction.

That was when Bilbo noticed the state of Kili's face. The stretch of his lips tore a cut open, and it started to bleed, a narrow, red line starting to make its way down Kili's chin. He had a black eye and a variety of other bruises on his face. His hair was more of a mess than usual.

"Look," Bilbo said hastily. "You know I'm going to probe you for answers as to why you look like you've just wrestled a lion, but there is a really urgent matter I need your help with!"

"I'd prefer if you didn't probe me at all," Kili said quietly while wiping his chin on his sleeve.

Needing to get a move on, Bilbo took Kili's hand and started to drag him along the corridors towards the direction he imagined they were taking Smaug into. Considering the lack of customs in the only recently reclaimed kingdom as well as the on-going negotiations with the humans, Smaug would probably be taken straight to the King Under the Mountain to be heard and judged. It was his best guess anyway.

"There's a man I need to get out of this mountain," Bilbo started to let Kili in on the situation. "He was already taken by the guards. Will they take him to see Thorin? Can you help me if that's the case?"

"A man?" Kili frowned. "Why would a man wander around our mountain?"

"Never mind why," Bilbo snapped, frustrated by how unable he was to tell the whole truth to anyone and impatient to hear the answer to his earlier questions. "The thing is that I got him into this trouble and now I have to get him out. He means no harm to your folk. Will you help me?"

It took many a step and unsure moments before Bilbo could hear Kili's quiet, "Yes."

"What is this?" Thorin asked with an icy tone, already weary from long negotiations and in a foul mood from hunger. He had been ready to retire for the day when a matter of urgency had been brought before him.

A matter that looked incredibly ridiculous with his lack of clothing and a look in his eyes that spoke of insufferable superiority despite his situation.

The guards shifted a bit uneasily before one of them spoke. "We found him from the lower level corridors that haven't been explored yet."

That perked the king's curiosity and suspicion even more than the guards bringing a naked human draped in a felt before him had done to begin with. The man didn't seem to have any interest in looking at any of his captors, instead opting to let his eyes run along the walls of the temporary meeting room he had been brought into.

"Who are you, then?" Thorin started by asking, narrowing his eyes when he got no answer or even the man's attention. "Speak!"

"He won't say anything," the guard on the man's right said.

"We heard him shouting before we caught him but he hasn't uttered a sound since then," the one on the left piped in.

"We think he might be a bit, you know," continued the other, exchanging looks with his fellow guard before continuing to address their king. "Deranged."

The man snorted, a smirk on his lips and gaze still anywhere but at any of the dwarves.

"He seems to find your thoughts amusing." Thorin muttered from under his breath, gaining second-hand satisfaction from the way the offence made the guards tighten their grip on the man to purposely cause discomfort.

"Are you here to thief from us?" Approaching the stranger with his hands held behind his back, Thorin spoke with a clear, carrying voice that demanded respect. The question seemed to at least cause a reaction, though it was far from the one he had been expecting. The man didn't look like a hare caught in an inescapable trap. Instead he looked angry as he turned to look at Thorin, his brows drawn together like he had been wronged.

Still, the man continued to say nothing, so Thorin spoke for him. "Or are you here to spy on us?"

"The assumptions you are making are quite wild," the man finally said, his voice a deep baritone and gaze like stone while he stared down at Thorin.

"And what else would a solitary man be doing sneaking around our well-guarded mountain during a time of negotiations?" Thorin threw back.

"But I am hardly just a man, am I?" The stranger smiled a smile that bordered on cruel even though it seemed like he was only trying to jest. "I am a naked one, and I have to agree with the brutes by my side here and consider the sight of me a bit deranged if anything."

Again the guards found him offensive enough to allow their fingers paint bruises on the man's arms, tugging on them like one would do to a beast they wanted to know had misbehaved. It didn't seem to bother the stranger at all. He kept staring on like there was no one in the room besides him and Thorin.

Thorin took a while to consider the other. Upon seeing the man his best guess would also have been that something was off balance inside his head. But he had heard him speak now, and the same insanity which he bore on the outside was not in his words. Rather, the man seemed to be fully aware both of his surroundings and situation.

And he didn't seem at all phased that he was bound in place by iron grips of annoyed dwarven guards. It was like he knew he had the upper hand. Like he was waiting for something to happen.

"Why is it then that you don't have any clothes on?" Thorin kept questioning just to keep the other answering.

With an easy shrug the man said, "You didn't have any in my size available."

"We should just cut his head off!" The guard on his right growled.

"You found that offensive?" Quirking an eyebrow the man turned to look at the walls once more, as if only the king was worth his stare. "I was not supposed to provoke you."

"What do you mean?" Thorin demanded. "Did someone tell you that?"

Ignoring anything the dwarves did or said to him again, the man turned his head to look straight ahead of him, gazing in Thorin's direction like he could be staring into his eyes were he as tall as he was. That if anything was insulting, but while Thorin was really starting to feel like death would be a suitable punishment for his insolence, they really couldn't afford to kill a man of Laketown while the negotiations were still on.

They could maybe jail him and use him against the humans, but that would probably just put more strain on their already feeble alliance. And they did need one another, the dwarves and the humans. The men needed wealth to rebuild what Smaug had burned to ashes, and Erebor needed to find an ally in a wealthy, growing human city that would assist them in both defence and trade.

Worst of all, they still had the Arkenstone.

Thinking about the treasure of treasures in the hands of men made Thorin lose whatever patience he had left, a blinding anger taking its place. He strode up to the man, drawing out Orcrist and pointing it at the man's throat.

"Who told you not to provoke us?" He asked so loudly it was bordering on yelling. "Do not think I will hesitate to cut your throat if you choose to ignore another of my questions, human."

"I told him!" A familiar voice suddenly boomed as the doors of the room were pushed open. There stood Kili, breathing like he had just run a distance, looking beaten down in every possible way. He took a few calming breaths at the doorway, ruffled his hair a bit in an attempt to make it more tame and stepped fully inside the room before he closed the doors behind him.

Everyone in the room stood still, watching at the young prince. Even the man chose to stare at Kili instead of the wall.

"I brought him here," Kili said without a waver in his voice, making eye contact with everyone in the room as if daring them to question his truth. Finally his gaze stopped on Thorin where it stayed.

"Kili," Thorin said lowly, expression indecisive between anger and concern as he took in the stage of his nephew's face. "Did Fili-"

"In fact," Kili interrupted him loudly, his right hand jerking the slightest as if something unexpected had just touched it. "The practical joke I was playing on Mister Holm here just got a bit out of hand."

"You find this funny?" Thorin said so coldly it surprised even himself. He didn't know which was worse; the feeling that he wasn't entirely in control of his temper or Kili's lack of reaction to it. Like he was expecting it. Like he was used to it.

Sighing heavily, Thorin brought his fingers to his temples and tried to calm down. "Look, I know that things with your brother are-" he tried to amend, but Kili wasn't willing to hear any of it, grinding his teeth in a way that looked painful before interrupting his king again.

"I shall escort him out and sort out this mess after which you may choose a suitable punishment to bestow upon me for my foolish actions," Kili spoke eloquently, purposely appearing very disrespecting even though his words were well tailored. He finished his speech with a little bow that made Thorin want to smack the back of his head.

"Very well, then," the king said instead through gritted teeth. "I trust you to sort this out and afterwards come to me with a full explanation."

Kili nodded, the absence of a mischievous smile on his face worrying his uncle. But perhaps this was not the time and place to talk about what was running through his nephew's mind. Not when there were so many near strangers present.

Nodding at the guards, Thorin gave a silent command for them to release the man. The human was still staring at Kili when he was freed, saying nothing to him even when Kili jerked his head in the direction of the doors, turned around and started to walk away.

Then both of them were gone and Thorin, during that time, was glad to see the back of them.

"Why did you call me Mister Holm?" Smaug asked Kili as he was being escorted out of the mountain.

Kili gave him an odd look from over his shoulder. "To make it seem like I actually knew who you were?"

"But Holm is not my name," frowned the dragon.

"It's not like our mutual friend ever mentioned your actual name to me," Kili answered.

"I think Holm is a fine name," a voice coming from thin air joined their conversation before Kili could ask Smaug for his real name. "We have holm oaks in the Shire. They're strong trees and ever green. Very nice indeed."

"An oak?" Smaug seemed displeased by it, if the way he scrunched his nose in disgust was anything to go by. "You named me after a tree?" He asked Kili accusingly.

"Trees burn to ash. That is all they ever do. I do not appreciate this."

Shrugging, Kili said, "I made my first bow using holm. Turned out to be a poor decision on my part."

The fact that Kili had more or less just said how much trouble helping Smaug had gotten him into went completely beyond the dragon's comprehension, and he kept on sulking over the name instead of appreciating the trouble a stranger had gone through to help him.

"You could have called me Platinum or Mithril," he said moodily. "Even something as hideous as Brass would have been better a name."

That made Kili actually stop and turn to look at the man with his eyes wide in disbelief. "But those are endearments! Calling you Mithril would have been like I was presenting you to my uncle as someone I was courting!" He blurted out, then narrowing his eyes in suspicion. "You aren't trying to flirt with me, are you?"

"I do not know," said the dragon honestly, tilting his head to express his curiosity. "Am I?"

"Enough of that," Bilbo butted in, manhandling Kili to continue heading into their former direction. "Look, we're almost out. Let's just keep walking."

"I don't mean to question the company you choose to keep, Bilbo, but this is some strange man you have befriended." Kili muttered when they finally made it outside through the huge gates of Erebor, gathering all the looks of the dwarves they passed but not bothering to respond in kind.

"I am painfully aware of that," Bilbo assured him, breathing in deep the fresh air of the outside world. Oh, it had been such a long, long time since he had last had the opportunity to do that!

They continued to walk in silence for a while, Kili obviously lost deep in some thought, Smaug looking curiously all around him like a newborn and Bilbo just relishing the feel of sun against his invisible skin. Only after quite a lot of a distance had been put between them and the gates of Erebor did Bilbo dare to take his ring off, sighing in relief the moment he became visible again.

"I cannot thank you enough, Kili," he said before turning to look at Smaug expectantly. "You as well, Mr Holm. We both owe him your well fortunes. I rather think a word of appreciation might be in order."

Smaug looked down at the hobbit, sniffing as he said, "You must be delusional, my dear Luckwearer, if you honestly think I am ever going to show gratitude towards a dwarf."

"You-!" A nerve had been struck if the enraged look Kili was sporting was anything to base an assumption on, leaving Bilbo to roll his eyes on the stubbornness of both dwarves and dragons.

"Try and behave, children," the hobbit chided them, trying to look very stern and disapproving since he was lost at being scary and threatening.

It failed to get him the obedience he was after, as the dwarf and the dragon both turned to look at him to say, "I am older than you," at the same time, then peeking at their echo from the corner of their eyes.

"Couldn't really tell," sighed Bilbo, sorting his priorities so that first on his list was getting these two as far away from each other as possible. "Anyway, I think Mr Holm and I can continue to the settlement of men from here by our twosome."

"I see." Looking defeated, Kili's gaze dropped to the ground. He stole a glance of his kingdom which loomed behind him, every ounce of him seeming reluctant to return there. Bilbo noticed this, of course he did, concern growing within him as he let his hand rest on Kili's bruised cheek in order to make the dwarf look at him.

"Will you tell me what happened?" he asked gently, running his thumb in soothing circles.

Kili swallowed thickly, trying to laugh it off but not succeeding when the sound broke on its way out and made his eyes water. "I-" he tried to say, not finding the words from behind the growing lump in his throat.

"It was the brother," Smaug suddenly said from the background, earning himself a startled look from Kili.

"Mr Holm," Bilbo said warningly after seeing nothing but confirmation in the way Kili looked crushed and vulnerable at the mention of Fili.

"My past experiences and what Bilbo has muttered to himself about dwarves being stubborn and borderline masochistic hints that this emotional response to being a victim of abuse is more psychological than it is physical. Which in turn means that the wrongdoer was most likely someone he was close to. Someone he trusted." Scrunching his nose, Smaug spat out the last word, "Loved."

"That's quite enough, thank you." Stepping closer to Kili to both comfort him and to keep the dwarf from attacking the dragon in blind rage, Bilbo tried to have Smaug stop before something got broken.

But the dragon wasn't done with his analysis. "Furthermore, the leader I was taken to mentioned a brother named Fili. When the leader suggested that the brother was the cause of the damage, our victim here was quick to change the subject, unsubtly trying to protect his abuser because of some emotional attachment. This much was obvious, Bilbo Baggins. What has me puzzled is your need to ask when the answer is right in front of your face."

"How-? Why-?" Kili almost chocked on his words, voice trembling from either rabidly building anger of absolute mental breakdown. Either way, Bilbo found it alarming.

"How? I paid attention and drew my conclusions. Why?" Smaug looked pensive for a moment, scratching his chin before shrugging like he'd lost all interest in the case. "I know nothing of your brother's possible motives. Maybe he despises you? That is something I can relate to."

All the fight that had been building up in Kili vanished at the mention of Fili's motives. His legs gave out and he fell down on the heavy ground with a look of utter disbelief on his face. Bilbo knelt down beside him quickly, offering whatever comfort he could while glaring daggers at Smaug.

"You said too much," the hobbit hissed.

"I only voiced the truth," Smaug countered, crossing his arms in a show of defiance. "Not all of us make well-mannered liars unlike some."

"It's all right, Bilbo," Kili interrupted them, speaking to the ground while his hand came to rest on Bilbo's where it was rubbing his arm to soothe him. He tried to laugh again, but the sound of it was weak and defeated, though heartbreakingly accepting. "Mr Holm was right about everything."

"No. No, he wasn't," said the hobbit while placing a hand on Kili's shoulder, searching his eyes before continuing. "I can't deny that it was Fili who hit you if that is the truth, but he does not despise you."

"You haven't seen the look in his eyes whenever he sees me," Kili smiled at him, held back tears reddening his eyes.

"No, but I saw the looks he gave you throughout our journey together."

While he never knew exactly what to make of those looks, he was absolutely certain that they were promises of utter devotion and eternal loyalty. He'd seen the brothers fight exactly the amount of time he had seen them make up and laugh it off, and while the damage of this fight was considerably more severe than he had ever seen before, Bilbo wanted to have faith in what he had witnessed of their brotherhood during their travels.

Kili didn't seem to agree, still completely lost no matter how Bilbo tried to tell him that Fili would never hate him.

"You're leaving, right? Going back home?" Kili said against his murmured assurances.

When Bilbo nodded, the dwarf suddenly grabbed a solid hold of his forearms, desperately pleading, "So take me with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Bilbo said shaking his head.

"I can't stay here!"

"You need to be there for him in case he needs you."

"I cannot be there for him if he does not want me to be there for him!" Kili almost roared, shaking poor Bilbo like it would help him drive his point through. "They say that I trigger the madness in him, that I should stay well away until it passes. But I'll keep going back as long as I am here, wanting to see him even though I know the consequences of it!"

"And these consequences are sure to pass, I assure you," Bilbo murmured, gently prying Kili's hands away from him and going to stoke his hair to calm him down. "One of these days he'll snap out of whatever nightmare he's trapped in and cry for help-"

"I cried for help when I could not fight his weight off me and his hold on my throat tightened enough so that I could not breathe!"

The bruises already told their own story, but hearing from exactly where they had come drained Bilbo of arguments.

"Please, I can't stay," Kili asked again, not knowing he had already won. "Be my reason to leave while he will remain my reason to return."

"Yes," he agreed with a hitched breath. "Yes, all right then."

And the smile he got in return was like sunrays trying to push through a heavy mass of rainclouds, barely there but still a strong reminder of what there would be after the storm passed.

They had agreed to meet at the edges of the human settlement at the break of the next day. Kili had said that he needed to retrieve his weapons and other equipment for their travels and had headed back to the mountain.

Smaug on the other hand had been a great source of amusement for the humans with his need of clothing. They kept asking uncomfortable questions like where on earth he had lost them in the first place, to which the dragon answered the obvious which was that he hadn't had any to begin with.

Once again thinking it was more trouble than it was worth, Bilbo tried his best to come up with suitable explanations and have Smaug behave long enough to get him clothed. Once that tedious task had been over and done with, the dragon now dressed in dark fabrics, leather boots and a long coat instead of a measly felt, they sought out food supplies and other necessities.

When morning came, they met with Kili exactly where they had agreed. The dwarf had more bruises on his face than he did yesterday, but the weight on his shoulders seemed to be lighter now than it had since he had woken up after the Battle of Five Armies. His steps were lighter as well as he came down from the mountain humming, stopping absurdly when he spotted Bilbo and Smaug.

"Don't tell me he's coming with us?" he asked with his brows furrowed, looking at Smaug from head to toe.

The hobbit and the dragon shared a look.

"At least some of the way?" Bilbo hesitantly said, not having given it much thought. The shrug he got as an answer signed that the dragon didn't know either. Perhaps they'd just see where their unexpected companionship ended. Wherever that might be, Bilbo just prayed it'd be well before they reached the Shire, as he was positive that a peaceful life in Hobbiton could hardly be appealing to a former calamity.

All of the hobbits, he thought, would probably agree with him.

"Guess I'll just have to tolerate you then," Kili huffed, matching Smaug in his lack of pretence that they'd give getting along a shot.

"Oh, do not worry, dwarf, for it is I whose tolerance will suffer the worst strain," was all the peace Smaug had to offer.

"If I have to listen to this the whole way we travel together then mark my words, I am going to inflict Lobelia upon you and watch from the sidelines as you slowly start to crumble," Bilbo swore, glaring at them before promptly turning around and starting to walk towards a man he had managed to persuade in giving them a ride to the edges of Mirkwood in his carriage.

"What is a Lobelia?" Kili asked once they were on their way, sitting snuggly in the midst of a variety of uncomfortable things to lean onto aside from each other.

When Bilbo said nothing, having grown an attitude after all the not getting along business, Smaug gave the answer a go. "Sounded rather like a disease. Perhaps one that affects our outer appearance if it will have us crumble."

"Yeah, right!" Snorting, Kili grinned at the hobbit. "Like Bilbo would ever threaten us with something like that."

"Lobelia is the plague of the Shire," Bilbo murmured lowly, eyes empty as he shivered. "One that slowly drives you to insanity."

He managed to conceal his grin well enough to let the knowledge of Lobelia set into his two companions. Oh, they still doubted him, but it had them quiet down and that was really all Bilbo was asking for.

Smaug looked at the forest like he had never seen one before. The trees were tall and thick and just as dark and looming as they had been the last time the Company of Thorin Oakenshield were about to enter them.

"What's the matter?" Kili asked from beside him, having chosen to stay with Bilbo's odd friend while the hobbit had gone to talk to some elves. Apparently their burglar had some suspicious businesses to deal with before they left, thus the reason they had come to the edges of the forest to seek out the elves that preferred the greenery over the human settlement despite the distances it had them travel.

"I have never seen trees from this point of view," the man said, neck straining as he kept looking at the treetops.

"The more I spend time with you the odder you get, Mr Holm." Keeping himself from chuckling, for that would almost feel like he was being familiar with the man like he would be with someone he actually got along with, Kili shook his head and tried not to wonder about all the things queer about his new companion.

"Maybe I should be a forestful of them?" The man said absently.

"What?"

"Mr Holm in plural."

"Holmes, is it?" Kili asked with a raised brow.

"I think the plural is either holm oaks or holm trees, actually." They turned around to see Bilbo approaching with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about this. There's a little matter that needs to be dealt with before we leave."

Completely dismissing the apology and their reasons for stopping where they had, the man turned to look at the forest again. "I will take Holmes despite its grammatical inaccuracy."

"Well met, Mr Holmes," grinned Kili. "I suppose there's no asking what your real name is?"

"I suppose not."

"Look at the two of you getting all chummy!" Clapping his hands to express how delighted he was about it, Bilbo paid no mind to the looks of utter disagreement that his comment received. "Perhaps there is hope that our journey will be a pleasant one after all."

"Remember how you believed the worst to be behind us after we had escaped the Goblin Town?" Kili asked while giving the hobbit a pointed look.

It led to an argument about many a thing that had happened on their journey, mostly concerning the stupidity of dwarves and the suspicious natures of hobbits.

Smaug stayed quiet while his two companions kept remembering, having nothing to say of what had happened during the time he had been asleep. It was all fee information, besides, getting to just listen to their personal affairs. Idly he wondered if what he was hearing and learning could be later on exploited against the dwarven prince somehow. His reactions to verbal abuse were quite amusing, after all.

A certain amount of restlessness could be spotted among the elves to which Bilbo had been talking earlier, Smaug being the only one to pay enough attention to his surroundings to notice it. They halted their talking and bowed down deep when an important looking elf made an appearance, nodding to his subjects before starting to make his way to the trio of mixed races.

Bilbo and Kili were still very engrossed in their conversation about why a handkerchief would be an essential part of traveling, when the tall elf stopped beside them, clearing his throat meaningfully to get their attention. Somewhere behind him a redheaded female covered her mouth and swallowed down a laugh.

"Thranduil!" Bilbo more or less squawked in his surprise, ears reddening from the embarrassment of being borderline rude. "I mean- apologies, your highness, and thank you for coming to see me."

"There is hardly any need for such formalities, Bilbo Baggins. I am always delighted to see you," said the elven king with his monotone voice which made him sound even more formal than Bilbo. "Especially if you have come to deliver the payment you promised me in exchange of healing the dwarves."

Kili's ears twitched and he grew very attentive indeed, having heard from his uncle how the elves had come and healed them while someone else was apparently paying the fares for it. Immediately his distrust towards the elves grew no matter if they had saved his life as well as the lives of the ones he held closest to his heart.

"About that…" Looking sheepish, Bilbo's hand went to rub at the back of his head. "I hadn't the time or opportunity to find anything suitable. I'm sorry."

"These are ill news indeed," Thranduil said, although there was a small twitch at the corner of his mouth.

The signs of mirth were so miniscule and passed so quickly that Kili had missed them completely, stepping protectively in front of his hobbit friend to face the threat of an elven kingdom for him.

"This is not a debt Bilbo should be paying you in the first place," he growled, glaring at the king while receiving no hostility in return.

"Perhaps not, Crown Prince Kili," Thranduil agreed, tilting his head as he asked, "Not if you are willing to pay the price yourself?"

Gulping before gathering himself into a spine straight posture of utter defiance, Kili nodded, "I am."

The elven king hummed low in his throat, holding his hands behind his back as he started to slowly circle the dwarven prince, assessing, considering. Not once letting Thranduil out of his sight, Kili tilted his head just enough so that he could glare at the other from the corner of his eye.

"Well?" he demanded impatiently. "Name your price!"

"The ornament in your hair," Thranduil finally said after a small stillness. His answer had Kili's eyes widen, and hesitantly he took a step back, hand going to cover the clip at the back of his head.

"Why?" He asked.

"I named my price," was all the explanation the elf gave. "Are you unwilling to pay it?"

"But it's just a piece of scrap metal!"

"I rather think the elf is after the obvious sentimental value of it," Holmes said from somewhere well away from the conversation being held. The comment had Thranduil raise a brow at the human, his gaze soon returning to Kili who was obviously struggling with whatever was going through his mind.

"I understand if you find yourself unable to give it away. It would not be the first time a dwarf has gone back on his word." There was both consolation and taunt in the way Thranduil spoke, though none of the witnesses found themselves surprised when Kili could hear nothing but the latter.

"Fine!" the dwarven prince shouted, ripping the ornament off his hair and holding it in a tight fist in front of the elf. "Have your payment, and do keep in mind that the line of Durin keep their words and pay their debts!"

"Kili, you don't have to. I'll just-" Bilbo tried to come between them when the piece of metal exchanged owners, Thranduil looking oddly pleased at having acquired such an item.

"It's fine, Bilbo," Kili said through a forced grin full of teeth. "Nothing but a piece of scrap metal as I said. Best I let go, right?"

Bilbo could not agree less, but there was no time to argue when Thranduil bid them a quiet farewell before leaving, and Kili turning away from him in an obvious mood of not wanting to talk about it. With a sigh, the hobbit accepted the situation for what it was and allowed his thoughts to be consumed by the thoughts of home and how to get there.

Bard the Bowman sat down at the opposite end of the table, sighing gratefully like a man who was finally done with a long and tedious task. Thorin too had been anticipating this one last meeting, having reluctantly supervised a large amount of treasure being transported out of Erebor just to lead to this day when he finally got what was promised to him in return.

"I thank you for your cooperation and wish that our alliance will thrive in the future," Bard said as he took a bundle of cloth from out of his pocket, placing it on the table in front of Thorin.

When Thorin showed no sign that he was going to touch it, Bard started to unwrap it, keeping his eyes on his task while casually saying, "Word is that a hobbit was seen leaving with a young dwarf and a man."

The cloth was drawn away from what it had been hiding underneath it, revealing the shine of the Heart of the Mountain, its beauty and brilliance making many a dwarf gasp at the sight of it. Still, Thorin made no movement to hold it in his arms when Bard gave one last nod and stood to leave.

For looking at the Arkenstone now, it seemed to be just as its name suggested: A stone.

Nothing more.

To Be Continued...