a/n: The full prompt: So, in with the gold Bilbo finds an odd dark blue gem the size of a softball. He takes it as part of his treasure, and later it hatches. Let's see him trying to raise a baby dragon.

Bonus for baby dragon snorting fire into Filis face, no burns

Bonus for it bringing meat back like a hunting hawk

Bonus for Bilbo giving the baby dragon a gold necklace or something to start its own hoard.

Go to my profile to find the fanart drawn after the story that goes along with this fic! My many thanks to the artist still.

Thorin had survived. Bilbo repeated the words to himself as he gathered up a few treasures, and hastily escaped from the mountain.

Thorin- and everyone else- was alive and well. The dwarf, still recovering, had not yet retracted his harsh words, so Bilbo decided that now was the time to get going. He had fulfilled his part of the contract, and he was ready to get to his own, real treasure- a small pipe, a warm bed, and good food.

He had asked the older dwarves to steer him clear of any of the actual treasures of the Mountain- after the mess with the Arkenstone, and all that came with it, Bilbo was done with all of the truly valuable treasure. Just enough to see him comfortably through the rest of his life is good thank you.

That's why he picked up the smallish blue gem that Oin completely ignored. It was slightly warm to the touch, as if something had been warming it, but it was slowly growing chillier despite it being in Bilbo's hands. The hobbit shrugged, gathered up the last, and very shortly found himself on the road with Gandalf by his side, and Sting lightly resting on his hip, blue gem forgotten.

It remained mostly forgotten except for a quick depositing on the mantle in direct sunlight and Bilbo had to once again leave his nice, warm, hobbit hole in search of another type of treasure entirely- mainly his furniture. Some of it was promptly given back, some of it he had to argue for, and most of it, he had to wage a peculiar war on the Sackville-Baggins to regain.

He never did retrieve his silverware, but considered himself lucky with most of his furniture.

So it was, a month passed in this idyllic trough, Bilbo occasionally wiping off the gathering dust from the sun-lit gem. It was rather pretty, even if it was worthless, and Bilbo supposed it could be quite the conversation starter if he ever ran out… but he doubted he would.

So it was, Bilbo was sitting on the low rise outside of his home, smoking on his pipe with a clear view into his window when the gem began to shake and quiver. He was just stamping out the fire with a calloused thumb when a tiny, red scaled figure burst out, still wet from the embryioc fluids. It yawned in his window, a tiny lick of what looked like fire bursting from its maw.

Bilbo considered the very many words that he had learned over the course of his adventures. At last he settled on a rather faint, "Oh dear."

He went to market to go buy some freshly killed rabbit and a pannik of goats milk.

The baby dragon, curled up on his mantle still, hissed at him when he can n through the doorway, tail lashing in agitation. "Sorry little one- I wasn't expecting a dragon." Bilbo had no idea if the dragon could understand him, but he hedged his bets and was polite.

The dragon looked at him tiredly, as Bilbo bustled around, warming the milk and tenderizing the meat to something the small dragon could hopefully digest- Bilbo wondered if Dragons were more like the bird species and hacked up half-digested food for their babes, or more like dogs and nursed the young with milk.

He hesitated, holding warm milk in one hand, and meat in the other. Well… He would feed the tiny dragon milk- no need to whet its appetite for meat any earlier then it needed- "WHOOP!"

Bilbo practically screeched as the dragon launched itself as the tenderized meat, using him as a foothold. "Now you look here! Just calm down and stop climbing me and we can go ahead and sort this all out-"

The dragon buried its head in the meat and began to chew contentedly. Bilbo sighed as he ran a thumb against still soft scales. "I'll have to find you a bed- what would be a good bed for you. Smaug slept on gold, but it seems to me that it would be far too pointy and lumpy."

The dragon chirruped softly, golden eyes swiveling and focusing on him. Blibo looked as unedible as he possibly could. The dragon clicked softly, warbling in its strange tongue, tiny, still-useless wings spreading out to hit Bilbo on the back of the head and still-soft claws sinking into fabric.

"Now don't you think about chewing on me! I'll have to write Gandalf and ask him what to do with you. I'm not overly sure if you can- gwark!" A tail whipped around his throat, tightening uncomfortably as the dragon hissed at the very thought. Or- at something. Bilbo was busy dragging away the long tail from his throat like a second scarf to spare a thought.

The dragon hissed softly as it coiled around his neck, relaxing to a far more comfortable and less choking position. "Very well then, I believe you have made your thoughts clear on leaving- it shall not be tolerated."

Bilbo tried to imagine his neighbors faces when the little dragon began to grow- He really, really needed to talk to Gandalf.

Slit eyes followed Warm One as it walked, murmuring things It couldn't quite understand. The pale, fleshy substance was quite big in its eyes, but It had a feeling that Warm One would not be big when It was older.

It sniffed, tasting the Air with It's tongue- the taste of wood-fire and feathers came back. An irrepressible need to Gather, Collect, and Hold…something rose within It, shaking It with a fierce desire.

A long neck snaked around, as slit eyes began to survey the room for something suitable to Hoard. The Warm One, as if sensing his need, looked to him, and then moved away. That meant new and unnamed something was coming.

Images of glitter things that were soft and malleable under heavy weight, or multi-faceted things glistening in fire itched at the corner of his mind.

Warm One came back with Something- it was white, fluffy. It looked soft- and all thoughts of glittering faded from It's mind as the fluff was placed in front of It, and It placed on top of it.

It purred softly, a quiet thrumming in the back of It's throat. It's wings, still too small to bear It in flight, unwound from its back, naturally resting stretched out from it. Warm One carefully placed Treasure beneath wings, keeping them at a comfortable level.

It yawned, and went to near-sleep, lulled by the warmth of Wood-Fire. The Warm One, satisfied that it had done its job, walked a short distance away, sat down on… another treasure perhaps? to begin making tiny, scratching noises.

The noises were not unpleasant, and It listened to the soothing sound as the thing that Warm One used was dipped in and out of a tiny thing repeatedly, and put to something else where it left marks. That… seemed really cool, and Warm One- Mother? Father? seemed to enjoy it as well.

another treasure to keep safe and warm and all mine except Father, when finished, gave it to another, and was even happier. treasure shared? no share treasure. no.

But Father was happy. He did that Thing that sent shivers down It's spine in pure happiness. Then, the extra warmth was pulled away, as Father went back to its food and began to munch quietly.

It watched Father for a little longer, the warm fire irresistibly pulling it towards sleep, until it at last fell asleep.

Visions of Treasure danced across the sleep land- of fluffy white, and thick, comfortable cloth, of flat rolling things with marks on them, and a good meal that had plenty of Green in it (even if it wasn't as tasty).

Treasure.

To be shared?

…

Perhaps.