This story is the result of a prompt on Rough Trade. It's my first story in the fandom, I wrote it more or less in one sitting, and it's not been seen by a beta. I feel no shame.

The Prompt:

"Bilbo Baggins accidentally kills Smaug and has to figure out how to tell the dwarrow who are waiting for him to come back with that stupid stone."

Hero's Reward

"Where are you, thief?" Smaug hissed, turning his giant head this way and that in an attempt to find Bilbo. "You might be invisible to my eye, but I can smell your thieving stink! Hiding is futile."

"It keeps me from being eaten, at least for the moment!" Bilbo bravely, and stupidly, called back.

Incredibly quickly for a beast of his size, Smaug turned around, towards the massive pillar construction behind which Bilbo was hiding, and snapped his teeth. "Nothing will save you from being eaten. You should feel honoured; you'll be the first hobbit to grace my palate."

"No," Bilbo said, hastily getting out of the way of Smaugs huge, snuffling nostrils, "I won't feel honoured at all, oh great Smaug. You're too big and I'm too small. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

Smaug broke out into hissing laughter. His deep voice echoed through the vast chamber and reflected off the millions and millions of gold coins when he purred, "Let that be my decision, little thief."

Bilbo's eye fell onto something white and especially shiny. You'll know it as soon as you see it, the dwarrow had said, and apparently it was true. He had just found the Arkenstone.

Carefully, he edged away from his hiding place and toward the stone. His nimble hairy feet made not a sound. However, the same could not be said about the coins and gemstones that slipped at the slightest provocation. Their quiet jingling beneath his feet was enough to attract Smaug's attention.

Snarling, the dragon lunged forward and snapped his huge jaws again. Bilbo managed to leap aside by the skin of his teeth.

That's enough now, he thought, heart hammering in his little chest. Time for Sting to come out. It might not harm him, but I'll feel better!

With all of his might, Bilbo hit the flank of the sliding dragon, just because he could. A gemstone that had been lodged between two scales came loose, which was even more satisfying.

"Take this, you great, ugly snake!" Bilbo cried and smacked the scales again, picking off another jewel. Suddenly, he was more than fed up with all of this. He just wanted the stupid stone and go home, back to his smial in his green little county, where the biggest threat to his sanity was Lobelia Sackville-Baggins.

"You dare attack me?" Smaug chuckled and blew smoke from his nostrils. "You dare diminish my beauty?"

"I dare!" Bilbo growled and hacked a huge sapphire from Smaug's tail. "Even if you kill me in the end, I won't make it easy for you! Snake!"

"I ..." Smaug reared up, his terrible yellow eyes wandering over the vast mounds of treasure in the cave and chest heaving with an indrawn breath, "Am not ... a ... snake!"

Hell broke loose as the dragon breathed fire. Flame so hot that it melted everything it touched missed Bilbo only by a few yards.

"You missed, snake!" Bilbo taunted and ran off, closer to Smaug instead of away from him. With a mad rage, he smacked off even more gemstones and gold coins, for the first time noticing the tiny, dark patches of skin underneath. Not even thinking about it, he rammed Sting into one such patch and was rewarded by a surprised yowl. Fortunately for Bilbo, Smaug's shudder allowed him to pull his weapon free before he was smashed to a clump. "Come and get me, if you must!"

Roaring with fury, Smaug whipped around, horrifyingly long teeth nearly piercing Bilbo's middle. A deadly game of warg and mouse began, Bilbo being the unlucky, yet oddly courageaous mouse. In between bouts of running for his life, he managed to hack more and more gemstones from Smaug's skin, sometimes even getting a satisfying sting in.

It couldn't go on forever, of course. Bilbo was but one hobbit, small and a little soft around the middle and really, really not meant for such hair-rising adventures. Killing orks and giant spiders was one thing, but taking on a huge, ancient dragon all by himself seemed more and more stupid as the minutes went by.

This became especially true as Smaug had, quite ingeniously, managed to drive the still invisible Bilbo into a dark corner of the cavern. The treasure here wasn't coin or jewel, but ceremonial armour and flimsy weapons made of iron and gold and silvered steel. Huge rubies adorned pommels and epaulettes and all of that seemed unbearably ridiculous when one was fighting for his life.

"So many weapons, so little use," Smaug breathed as if reading Bilbo's frantic thoughts, chest glowing again as he heated up for yet another burst of hellfire. "This is your end, thief!"

It must be, Bilbo admitted, exhausted and sad and still angry. He's cut off the whole corner - he's a huge, long bastard. Oh please, have mercy with my soul, Lady Yavanna. May the dwarrow forgive me for breaking their contract.

Bilbo squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the unforgiving fire.

Run, a voice said in his suddenly very quiet head. Run now, little hobbit.

For just a second, Bilbo floundered. Hearing voices in the face of one's death must be pretty normal, he figured, and listening to them might help exactly nothing.

Then again, I have nothing to lose.

Bilbo ran.

He feinted to the right and then sprinted to the left, along a whole wall of those slender, sparkling spears. Something gently but insistently hurried his feet, allowing him to outrun the blast of fire. The bulk of it crashed into the wall and a pillar, harming both so badly in the process that the elegantly hewn rock above both dragon and hobbit began to crumble.

Smaug's roar was terrible, but even worse was the scraping of his scales along the stone floor of the chamber as he reared up and collected strength to give chase once more.

Bilbo had never felt so aware of himself, of the workings of his small body, as he ran and jumped over Smaug's whipping tail tip, and then ran even faster, away from that foul maw and deadly claws.

Behind him, the dragon gave a few beats of his mighty wings, catapulting himself forward as he turned in the corner. The distance was too short, however, and he smashed his massive body into the wall. A shudder went through the floor, and rocks began falling from the ceiling. A piercing shriek made Bilbo stumble but he listened to the urgent voice in his head and kept on running, even though he choked on dust and the sudden burst of soot out of Smaug's mouth. Claws thrashed, flames singed Bilbo's hair and coat tails, and the screaming! It just didn't stop, went on and on, a dying song if Bilbo had ever heard one.

It couldn't be. It couldn't be!

Bilbo kept running, ignoring the pinch in his sides and the cuts in his feet until he had reached the main stairway to the upper part of the mountain.

It is over, little hobbit, the gentle voice crooned. You may rest. For your dwarrow and the Men in Esgaroth upon the Long Lake, you did well. There's just one thing left to do.

"Alright." Bilbo straightened his waistcoat and took a deep breath. He didn't dare turn around and face whatever lay in the dark corner. "What is it?"

You must find the Arkenstone and destroy it. A great wizard once placed a curse upon it. It will destroy the dwarrow if you allow it to remain in Erebor.

"Destroy the ... that silly stone is the reason I came here in the first place!" Bilbo felt the pitiful rest of his remaining composure crumble. "I can't go up there empty-handed. Thorin will never speak to me again!" He took a deep gasp and, to his horror, burst into panicked tears.

My little hobbit, my child ... I understand. Calm yourself, the nightmare is truly over. Yet you will have done your dwarf a far greater service than merely slaying the dragon. Destroying the silly stone will allow the line of Durin to continue, and not just continue but flourish. Is it not the gift of your kind to coax things to life? To nourish growth in its loveliest forms?

"It is," Bilbo admitted, wiping his eyes and nose and sagging a little. The aches got worse as the moments passed, but worse was the mental exhaustion. "But Thorin will be disappointed."

He was smiling when you told him about your Shire and your squabbles with your family, the voice reminded him. Her kindness was so sweet that it made the heart seeds in Bilbo's breast vibrate. He knows the value of life and happiness. You can bring forth all of his deepest desires, if you just allow yourself this one last bout of courage. Turn around, and behold all that you've already accomplished. Then, find the Arkenstone and destroy it.

As if led by gentle hands, Bilbo slowly, so slowly, shuffled around until he could overlook the gold chamber of Erebor. A large amount of the gold coins had been melted by dragon fire, and no doubt countless of precious stones had perished in the heat. And there, in the dark corner, the dragon lay. Despite his half open eyes he seemed quite dead, even though Bilbo could hardly countenance how that could be.

Pushed by that same gentle force, he carefully picked his way back, avoiding the pools of hot gold and sharp-edged rubble.

"Inredible," he gasped, horrified at the sight of so much black dragon blood.

Only up close the true cause for Smaug's death became visible - the dragon had, quite obviously, skewered himself on at least two dozen spears, the exact same spears that had seemed too flimsy to even serve as ceremonial weapons for the stocky, muscular dwarrow. It must have happened as Smaug was crashing into the wall as he pursued his quarry, though how anything could have pierced those impenetrable scales, Bilbo didn't know.

He crept even closer, until one of the wounds was no more than two nose lengths away from his eyes. Then, he understood.

"Oh dear. Oh, that's not good," he mumbled. Quite suddenly, his legs gave out and he sat on the floor. His eyes began to sting again, despite having half bawled them out not a quarter of an hour earlier. "They'll flip."

It took a while to recover, but after eating the last of his lembas, it seemed quite sensible to find the Arkenstone and cleave it in half with Sting. It couldn't get much worse, could it?

Bilbo expected an unearthly scream as the stone shattered, or perhaps a cloud of dark smoke as he destroyed the dwarrow's most prized, cursed possession, but all that happened was that the light within the crystal winked out. A very ordinary broken diamond remained behind.

"Well." Bilbo sheathed his sword and pocketed the stone's remains. "There's nothing for it. I have to go back and tell the others something. But what? How will I get out of any of this?"

Why do you want to get out of it? the voice whispered. What you did is deserving of song and much merriment.

"I like merriment for its own sake, or indeed, in your honour," Bilbo replied. "But never for this. Mahal help me, I took the life of the last dragon in Arda." He bowed his head, touched his hand to Smaug's snout, and whispered a prayer. "I never wanted such a burden."

You defended your life, the voice soothed him. You defended the lives and livelihoods of many others, dwarrow and Men alike. The dragon had nothing good left in him, but dwarrow and Men can now begin anew. You brought upon a new age, but in this case it is far from a bad thing.

"Still, I neither want nor need recognition. I might take a bit of treasure, to live a comfortable life, but this ... this is too much." Bilbo trailed off, swallowing around the sudden lump in his throat.

You fear that you cannot return to the Shire. That the songs will follow you there, and bring strangers to your county.

"My village would hate me for it. But where else would I go? I'm not a dwarf, I can't live in a mountain, and neither would I fit in with Men. Oh Lady, what am I to do? Why did I listen to you? Why did I destroy that stupid, stupid stone? I was mad! Quite mad! But that won't save me now." Bilbo breathed faster and faster until black dots swam before his eyes.

My poor child, rest easy. Your friends will understand, and Thorin will remember that the house of Durin was great long before Thror found the Arkenstone.

"I'm afraid," Bilbo whimpered. "I will lose all."

You will not. Have faith, Bilbo Baggins. Your story won't end here.

With a last loving kiss to Bilbo's mind, the voice took its leave. With nothing else to do but actually coax some air into his constricted lungs, Bilbo wiled away some time in silence. Shortly after, his limbs began to shake, and the sweat on his skin finally dried. He imagined that he must look and smell a fright.

At last, he couldn't keep his friends waiting any longer. As he stopped shaking, banging sounded from the large portal. Weary from all that running and fearing for his life, not to mention the dragon's carrying on, Bilbo trudged up the stairs, one step at a time. There were a lot of those, which gave him too much time to think.

The company was waiting for him right behind the gigantic portal and swarmed him immediately.

"What happened?" Fíli asked, dragging Bilbo into a hard embrace and patting him all over. "The whole mountain shook, and those screams! We were trying to get to for ages!"

Ori was next, although he was a little gentler. "If the dragon woke, how are you still alive?"

Kíli almost burrowed into Bilbo's embrace when it was his turn. "It's good to see you alive, Bilbo. We wanted to come, but just as we made ready to open the door, there was that terrible scream-"

"And the portal wouldn't open for us afterwards," Balin informed Bilbo.

The rest of them descended on the hobbit until only Thorin was left.

"You did us a great service, Master Hobbit," Thorin said quietly. "Listening to that ... not many dwarrow can boast of such courage. That you stand here now, alive, is a true gift from Eru."

All my thanks belong to Yavanna, Bilbo thought, still a little shaky, but I'm glad they're not hating me, yet. I'll probably have to tell them all, but how will they still look upon me with pride when they know what I've done?

"Let us see what happened!" Kíli cried, always the instigator for an adventure. "With me!"

The whole company surged forward, only to stop dead atop the staircase.

"Bilbo ..." Oin choked out. "Bilbo, the dragon ... it is not moving."

"Is it dead?" Bombur croaked.

"How can it be dead?" Bofur asked, voice also suddenly hoarse. Bilbo would've found it hilarious if he weren't still sort of paralized. "I thought wounded, its screams were horrifying enough, but ... dead?"

"Go see what happened," Thorin ordered, and the others all shook off their shock and thundered down the stairs and over the huge piles of gold. "While they're busy, you will tell me what happened, my friend."

Bilbo flushed with embarrassment. "It's a rather inglorious tale, I'm afraid. Not worthy of retelling, really."

Thorin merely raised an eyebrow, which made him look even more unfairly attractive than usual.

"Alright, alright ..." Bilbo took a deep breath. "I went down there and began to look for your silly stone. I was quite light on my feet, if you must know, but mountains of gold and stones do not not lend themselves to sneaking. Smaug woke up."

Thorin sucked in a breath. "And then?" he whispered. He reached out, quite as if he didn't know that he was doing it, and held onto Bilbo's sleeve.

"And then he chased me around. Called me a thief and such. Very rude." Bilbo found some of his spirit and huffed. "It made me quite angry, you see, and I began to hit him with Sting. It helped."

That made Thorin chuckle. "No one could ever accuse you of cowardice! What came after that?"

"Smaug is ... was ... a great beast. He managed to corner me, over there," Bilbo pointed to said corner, "and prepared to melt the flesh from my bones with his dragonbreath. I managed to run, I ... somehow I escaped, and somehow Smaug ..." Helplessly, Bilbo gestured again. "Smaug managed to skewer himself on some pretty spears, and got buried under tons and tons of stone. He's truly quite dead, I'm afraid."

Astonished, Thorin stared at him. "You killed the last dragon. All by yourself."

"Well, it was mostly an accident, and your ancestors helped, in a way," Bilbo said earnestly. "And Yavanna might have lightened my steps and lent me strength. I'm quite grateful for that, too. I'll have to cook a meal in her honour at the earliest opportunity."

"We'll all help," Thorin declared. "What an extraordinary tale! There's the mystery of Smaug's scales, however. How did the spears get past them?"

"Well, that's-" Bilbo began, but stopped when Kíli shouted Thorin's name.

"Balin will write a song about Bilbo Dragonslayer!" Thorin's sister-son exclaimed. "Clever way to kill a dragon!"

Bilbo blanched. "Oh, please no. It was an accident!"

"What do you mean?" Thorin shouted back.

Kíli's grin lightened up the whole cave. Gloin and Nori followed as he scrambled back up the stairs.

"There were dozens of small imperfections in Smaug's hide," Nori began.

"Balin said that there must have been stones or coins wedged between the scales for a long time," Gloin continued. "The scales were pried apart a little, just two or three hobbit fingers far, really."

"And Bilbo removed them when he was smacking the dragon with Sting, allowing the spears to later kill Smaug," Thorin finished the tale, slowly turning back to the embarrassed hobbit and looking him over with unabashed awe.

"I was just angry, I told you," Bilbo repeated, desperately. "I knew I'd die, so I thought why not work out my frustration before that happened? How could I have known that knocking off a few of his glittering stones would cause his death?"

"Bilbo Dragonslayer!" Kíli cried, raising a fist. All the others echoed him, even Thorin. "You deserve your song, Master Hobbit! It will be sung all over Arda, and rightly so!"

Bilbo groaned. "No singing, I beg you!"

"We'll have to stage a reenactment," Nori said, throwing his bag down and fishing for a pencil and some paper. "And a tapestry for our great hall!"

Again, the dwarrow cheered.

"Come," Thorin said and took Bilbo's elbow with heretofore unknown gentleness. "Let's find you a quiet corner."

The touch of his hand made Bilbo's face heat, and the seeds around his heart stir again. "Why?"

"You deserve a rest, Bilbo Dragonslayer," Thorin teased. The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled sweetly. "Here, sit down and have a drink of water. Drink it all, I'll get more later."

Only then did Bilbo notice how thirsty he was. He gulped everything down, still yearning for more.

Thorin stroked the hair from his forehead. "You're tacky with sweat. I can't imagine what an ordeal that must have been. I'm so sorry that we brought you into so much danger."

"I'm happy to still be alive," Bilbo admitted in a whisper. "But I'm sorry that I stole your victory."

Thorin raised Bilbo's face with careful fingers. For a moment, they just stared at each other. "It would've been a hollow victory, if we'd been victorious at all," Thorin answered with quiet conviction. "Dragons are smart - perhaps we truly needed a Master Hobbit to outwit this foe." His frown melted into another of his dangerously lovely smiles. "To tell the truth, I'm just happy that it is over, that the Erebor is back in Durin hands, and that we have enough gold to make it habitable and prosperous again. I don't know ..." Thorin's voice hitched, "I don't know how to thank you. You're the smallest of us all, but you accomplished the most. You accomplished all we set out to achieve."

"Thorin ..."

"No, Bilbo, let me say this. You saved us. You saved the company, and you saved the House of Durin. I owe you my royal gratitude; whatever you desire shall be yours. You need but ask and it will be done."

Unbidden, Bilbo's eyes began to well up again. "Then," he whispered, "I ask for your forgiveness."

And he presented the broken Arkenstone.

oOo

"I'm so happy you survived," Bilbo said and grasped Thorin's hand. "So happy that Gandalf came, and the people of Laketown, and that Azog is finally dead."

Thorin fought to keep his eyes open, but his sunny smile made Bilbo's insides clench with longing. "All thanks to you."

"Thanks to Thranduil, you mean," Bilbo replied. "His arrival tipped the scale."

"He honoured his promise," Thorin rasped, curling his thick finger's around Bilbo's slender ones. "That was all you. The Arkenstone was ... worthless."

"Not to him." Bilbo sighed. "He said it will always remind him that great deeds demand sacrifices, and that some sacrifices are worth it. That silly stone was evil, and it won't be missed."

Thorin smiled indulgently. "No, it won't be missed."

"The elven healers say that you'll heal in time," Bilbo murmured. "Another thing I'm glad for. Your dwarrow make the Erebor ready for inhabitation. The Men from Laketown are helping. Some are thinking about settling close to the mountain to establish trade connections. Farming might be a problem."

"There's time for all that." Thorin's voice lost its raspiness after a drink of water and became silky, almost a purr. "My hobbit, I know that I owe you everything, but may I ask for a boon?"

"A boon?" Bilbo repeated, frowning.

"Just one," Thorin affirmed. "Please?"

Bilbo was powerless against the silly dwarf's beautiful begging eyes and even more beautiful smile. "Name it, then."

"I want you to plant your acorn here, on the Erebor. The one you showed me after I ... after I stopped being a beast about that silly stone." Thorin held Bilbo's hand tighter. "Plant it, and stay to see it grow until it's canopy reaches the clouds."

"You're asking for all my days," Bilbo said quietly. "That's too much, if you won't give the same in return."

"But I will," Thorin breathed. "I will give you all my remaining days, my devotion, and my riches. I will give you my family, and my people, and the promise that I will do everything to make the Erebor as green and lush as I can. I would have my hobbit, my One, live happily until Eru calls us both home."

"You mean that," Bilbo whispered, pressing his free hand against the stirring heartseeds in his chest. "You want me, here in your mountain, among your kin."

"I do." Thorin never blinked, just calmly watched as Bilbo fought against his rising emotions. "The gold sickness nearly destroyed me. I owe you everything; I always will. But if you want me, my love is yours, and I'll endeavor to make you as happy as I possibly can."

Ashamed, yet not, for his tears, Bilbo sniffed. "I accept. There'll be a contract, of course, and the one non-negotiable thing will be that we spend part of the year in the Shire among my kin. I ... Thorin, you must know I love you, but I won't lose my home. I'll endure the stupid songs and tapestries if you'll protect me from them in my county. My sanity demands it."

"We have a deal, Bilbo Dragonslayer," Thorin said, impish smile turning peaceful. "Have Nori write your contract. I'll sign it as soon as I'll be able to stay awake for more than a few minutes. Right now I just want to hold your hand and know that your brave heart sings with mine."

"It does," Bilbo murmured. He leaned forward and breathed the softest of kisses on his dwarf's lips. "Sleep, Thorin. All my days with you have begun and I won't ever be parted from you again."

The End.