A/N: Sorry for the long wait! School has been crazy. Here is the long awaited, Chapter Seven:)

A thank you to randomplotbunny, AshesCastle, Antex-The Legendary Zoroark, Amazing-Thalia-Grace, lassenri, MJoern (sorry it's not your cup of tea, although did you ever complain of the mass hoard of Orc armies killed in the LotR series? Come on guy), Mystical-Elf-Of-Sorrow, Wraven, Moonpie, TheWhisperingWarrior, Anonymous Noob the 2nd (here it is dearie!), Britt30, Shadow Wolf 15846, ZARABEARA, Scififan33, Saricaykes, Guest, Noxy the Proxy, and NightlyRowenTree for all reviewing that last chapter! It means the world to me.

Also, I'm going to stop translating what Bilbo says in the dragon language for y'all. Unless he's spouting sentences, i'm sure y'all can identify he's insulting someoneXD

Without further ado:

Chapter Seven: Trolls of the Head and Troll-Trolls

Bryngeir looked at the female dragon who stood before him. She was a general among the Treasure Hunters—that much was obvious. Unlike his simple golden chains that decorated his horns, she beheld jeweled earrings tearing at her ears while embedded diamond tattoos marred her long purple body. In a strange and flashy way only known to the Treasure Hunters and Treasure Seekers was she gorgeous. An admirable mate of high status for any male to be pleased to take. The emerald dragon forced himself to stop staring.

"I do beg your pardon, Ósk." He murmured. "I was not paying attention. A bit tired is all, please run your report over again."

"The work of the king hard, majesty?" She drawled curiously, her tongue darting out for a second.

The king dragon nodded, his ears flapping against the side of his head. "I must admit, it is troublesome. The burden of a king. I would even dare to say I now know why Smaug went insane."

Her gold eyes widened a bit. "That difficult?"

"And large burden with the load, I'm afraid." He answered, settling his head down on his fore arms, hazel eyes blinking tiredly.

The amethyst dragon lay down in front of him, her tail coiling lazily. "As your friend, Bryngeir, would you not tell me if I could help in any way?"

A mirthless laugh escaped his throat. "It is not your place, Óski."

Her nostrils flared with embarrassment. "Don't call me that, we are no longer hatchlings."

"As your friend, I deem whatever nickname appropriate."

"You idiot."

"That wasn't nice Óski."

"Oh grow up."

Bryngeir chuckled a bit. A small set of lightness curling up within his heart. It felt good to confide in her. He had to admit, it had been a while since he'd seen Ósk. With their callings into different sects, staying in contact had become difficult and before they knew it—they'd been estranged. But she'd been the one to help him, that faithful day that Thorin set him free. She'd helped him reach the mountains of their home and helped nurse him to health. She'd been there when Smaug had challenged him to a duel, and it was Ósk who stayed by his side throughout his fight with the Fire Drake of the North.

"You know you can always come to me." Ósk whispered, concern shimmering in her large eyes.

"I know."

As his head shook back and forth, the little black braid delicately decorating one of the gold chains caught the female's eye.

"Is that from your brother, the Dwarf?"

Bryngeir nodded. "Indeed. He offered it up to me in recompense for what had happened."

"I heard that any hair shorn is a disgrace to their kind." Ósk murmured, shooting a questioning glance.

"That's why the buffoon did so." The Great Dragon king snorted. "He offered the greatest form of apology he could think of. The braid was easy enough to sever without it being noticeable, but meaningful enough for it to hurt him when he cut it."

"He sounds like a good man."

"He's a prince."

"You hold him in high regard."

"No…Óski, really. He's a prince. His father is Thrain."

Ósk blinked for a moment, trying to find the jest in his words. But found none. "You…you're serious. Your væng broðir is the next in line for the throne under Erebor?"

"A bit humorous, no?"

"Not just humorous, but also beneficial!" She smiled broadly, her sharp fangs gleaming like ivory. "Don't you understand, Bryngeir? You are a king, he is a prince! The pettiness between at least one of the two-legged races can end. You and him can set up negotiations and—"

"It can't be like that." He growled a bit too harshly. "They've already tried to kill me, you've seen the result of that."

He flaunted his cracked chest plates and his broken horn just to get his point across.

"The minute I step foot near the Lonely Mountain again, Thror will have me ended."

She sighed. "So what, then?"

"Thorin's and my friendship remains a secret. That's what."

She offered him a sympathetic smile, and he couldn't help but lower his ears in affection. Such a kind hearted, beautiful dragon. A diamond in the rough, even though she herself had a few sharp edges. But she was perfect.

And he planned to make her his.

Ósk.

Ósk…

Óski…

"Ósk!" Bilbo screamed, his eyelids flashing open. Her image disappearing in a carnage of crimson as Smaug seized his revenge upon the Great Dragons.

Thorin was there at a moment, his face furious. "Master Burglar, unless you wish to give our position away to Mahal-knows-what out there, I suggest you keep your gibberish to yourself."

The image of Ósk faded away with the remaining twilight. The day had begun to blush prettily, a good start given their past rainy endeavors. Thorin shot one last glare at the Hobbit before stalking away.

Bilbo sighed. "I never get a break do I?"

"Don't worry, Master Boggins!" Kili chirped from his side.

Fili sauntered up next to him, as well. "Yes! Kee used to get nightmares all the time, as well."

"Oh, come off it Fee!" Kili bit back. "I haven't had nightmares since I was fifty! What about you, Master Boggins? How old are you?"

I don't know. He thought bitterly, before responding with the age Gandalf had given him. "Fifty three."

"You're right still young." Fili marveled. "I wonder why uncle allowed you to come. You're just a baby still!"

"Don't go saying that." Bilbo snided, "I could outsmart you boys in your studies any day."

"That has nothing to do with age, mister."

"I know it doesn't. But I does give me more credibility." The Hobbit grinned.

Kili spluttered.

Fili laughed. "Ooh, I like him! He's down right witty. You've lost your touch, Kee."

"Don't go sayin' that!" the brunette Dwarf whined. "I haven't lost my touch…"

Bilbo smirked at them before shooing them away with his hands. "Hey, let me finish packing up, you rapscallions. Unless you want Thorin to be cranky at you again."

"You cannot worm your way out of this one, Boggins." Kili smiled while Fili dragged him away. "We shall return!"

That I don't doubt. He sniggered, packing up his things and rolling them into his pack.

Thorin shouted out the orders for them to mount, and they all reached their appointed ponies. Tacking them took a few minutes, but in no time at all the thirteen Dwarves, one Hobbit, and a Wizard were well on their way again. The sky glimmered with little chances of rain—a welcomed change—and told them that their start was closer to elevensies than Bilbo supposed Thorin would've wanted it to have been.

The old dragon, for the majority of the day, enjoyed a pleasant conversation with Balin and Dori about teas. He was very surprised to discover some of the plants he'd known to be poisonous could be brewed just right to form medicinal remedies. He'd knew it could be done in such a way to build up immunity to snake venoms, but not plants.

"Indeed." Dori nodded. "Jus' shake 'em up, and viola! A good, piping, fresh, hot brew."

Balin nodded. "Served with some dry biscuits and even scones, 'tis a lovely dish."

"I never known that…well…that particular flower could help and not kill." Bilbo mentally added the flower to the growing list the two Dwarves provided him with.

"Most plants are good for you." Dori nodded. "Even if they're poisonous."

"Or some plants like hemlock, those do nothing but ill." Balin admitted.

The other graying Dwarf hummed in agreement.

The Hobbit stuck his tongue out briefly. "Hemlock. Nasty buisness. I'd swallowed some once. Thank Yavanna it wasn't enough to kill me, but it was quite the ugly affair."

"I'm sure!"

"It wasn't bad as we thought it would be. I for sure thought I would've been a goner. But my mother and father stood by me adamantly while I recovered. It took me a little less than half a year to recover, but…"

"It was quite the amazing thing." Dori murmured. "That you recovered so quickly."

"You're lucky to be alive, Bilbo." Balin nodded. "Most would die after the exposure."

"Hobbits are pretty stout." Bilbo shrugged. Although hemlock can do little wrong to a dragon.

"And what other of your adventures?" Balin continued. "I heard from the boys that you had quite the few when you were a wee lad."

"Well, it's been a while I admit." Bilbo laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. "I guess you could say I thought I'd learn from my previous mistakes."

"Mistakes?" Dori echoed.

"We all make them." The Hobbit side, looking over the veranda tiredly—the images of his kingdom burning, flashed before his mind. "I just…I seem to make the worst of them."

"Now, now." Balin reprimanded with a light tone. "You sound like you've been burdened with the world, Master Baggins. Don't go all gloomy on us like our majestic king."

I heard that… Thorin growled from the front of the line.

Balin pretended to ignore the brooding vibes from the younger Dwarf. "Anyways, surely there must be some story you have."

Bilbo tucked his chin close to his chest. "Well…I have a story not about me but a story about a …"

"Oh?" Dori queried. "What race would that be?"

"One that you wouldn't be interested in." Bilbo muttered, with a dismal wave of his hand.

Balin huffed. "Well, you've got our interests now, laddie. Might as well tell us."

"Well…" Bilbo sighed, looking off towards Thorin at the front. I just…I just want him to recognize me in the form…even if…

His eyes widened. Is that what he wanted? Sure he'd felt a companionship to the the leader Dwarf that Thorin would never return, but had he sought recognition. Did he want Thorin to recognize him in the pathetic form of an old Hobbit? Bilbo's fingers tightened around the braid that rested inside his pocket. Things had always been so complicated. He couldn't help but wonder if life would've been simpler for him if he'd never said the young prince from the Orcs in the woods.

"Long ago," the Hobbit began quietly, just so that the two older Dwarfs could hear, "there was a young dragon."

"Dragon!" Both Balin and Dori exclaimed.

"It is not the kind you are used to, of that I can assure you." He tried to amend, his voice forcibly trying to hush them.

"All dragons are evil, Master Baggins." Balin muttered. "With naught but greed in their hearts."

Are we? Do both the Great Dragons and the Fire Drakes of the North share this? He wondered, looking up at the Dwarven king. "I'm…sorry, I shouldn't have tried to tell the tale."

"I'm curious, Master Boggins." Kili piped up from behind him. "Continue the story."

"Yeah," Fili added. "We're on a dragon quest, so we might as well learn about dragons! I want to hear a Hobbit story about the bloody firebreathers."

Dori looked like he wanted to knock them both upside the head. "Nonsense, we will leave the topics of dragons alone."

"What would a simple Hobbit know of dragons anyways?"

The five of them looked forward to see Thorin riding in close proximity to them. His cobalt eyes burned with challenge and Bilbo felt that dragon-pride rise to his throat. How insulting indeed! He knew quite a bit about dragons, thank you very much.

"Ooh, I beg your pardon, Mountain King." Bilbo snapped. "What would a simple storyteller by trade know about dragons? Silly me."

Thorin huffed. His brow furrowing.

"Oh yes, did I forget to mention I'm a trained storyteller?" The Hobbit tilted his head back innocently, although his hazel eyes gleamed with a dragon's mischief. "Must've slipped my mind."

Balin chuckled, his brow lifted with amusement. Who would dare mock their king in such a way. As much as it insulted Thorin's Dwarrow pride, it was amusing to see a tiny Halfling give their king lib.

"Then Master Storyteller," Thorin growled through grit teeth. "Do continue."

Bilbo snorted. I'm definitely not going to subject myself to his Royal Broodiness. Favíti. He'll definitely have to be nicer. "Mmm…I do believe I've actually forgotten the story by now…all this banter, it really did make it slip my mind. Perhaps another time?"

With that he spurred his pony forward, past the Dwarves and up to the side with Gandalf. The Wizard frowned at the Hobbit's very pleased smirk. Bilbo looked at him from under his thick eyelashes, his eyes darkening again with that impish dragon quality.

"I do believe you were right,Töframaður. This trip may be very beneficial for me after all."

Gandalf frowned. "I don't believe that is what I meant when I insisted you come."

"No, but that's what you got as an end result."

"Confound you dragons and your fickle moods."

"Confound you Wizards and your meddlesome plans. Too bad sticking your noses into everyone's business doesn't always get your desired result."

Bilbo tilted his head back, eyes shut as he soaked up the sun. His lips parted as a jeering laugh escaped his throat. "I think I will have fun on this little adventure after all."

"I'm sure you will." Gandalf grumbled, sticking his pipe in his mouth grumpily.

The rest of the journey for the day went relatively well. Thorin called for camp at abandoned ruins, which Bilbo did not like one bit. Even with his dulled senses, the whole place smelled rancid of troll. True, the scent was stale, but nevertheless the smell was only a week old. He made note of any suspicious looking imprints that may have been tracks. But nothing looked fresh. At least, from what he could tell. It'd been a while since he'd been hunting.

The moment he looked up, he noticed Gandalf storming off. Taking his hand off his pony's snout, he looked to the flustered Wizard. "Everything alright? Wait, where are you going?"

"To go seek the company of the only one around with a lick of sense." Gandalf growled.

Bilbo lifted a brow. I'm right here. "Oh, and who is that?"

"Myself!" the Wizard yelled, nearly jumping onto his horse and riding away.

"Well that was rude!" Bilbo shouted after the Wizard. Helvitis Töframaður!

Balin scratched the top of his head. "Thorin should really learn to be more diplomatic."

"If that's Erebor's delegation future, I cringe." Bilbo shivered.

"What was that, Master Burglar?" Thorin hissed, coming up from there side.

The Hobbit had already begun to walk away, sauntering to where Bombur and Bofur were beginning the makings of dinner. "Nothing, nothing."

"He's a bit rude." Balin observed.

The raven head stared at the Halfling. "I feel as though…never mind, a stupid matter. How long do you think it'll be before we reach the Misty Mountains?"

"A few days; at the most a week." The elder Dwarf said. "We're making good time."

"I thought as much." The king responded softly.

"We will reach it." Balin assured. "Don't you worry."

"Will all of us make it, though?"

"You're worried about the Hobbit."

"What? No. I merely made the speculation that we have three near-boys who have just barely reached their manhood. I worry for their safety."

Balin nodded. "Ori knew what he was getting himself into, Thorin. And Fili and Kili have been well trained by you. They also knew what would come of this journey. They did not shirk from it. I'm confident they will return with all the rest of us."

"Or else their mother would have my neck." Thorin murmured, his hand rubbing his throat subconsciously.

"Yes, that too."

~0oo0~

"Mm, dinner smells absolutely delicious." Bilbo admired, stepping closer to the pot.

Bofur grinned. "Aye, I'd 'spect so. Do me a favor and run these to the lads."

The floppy hatted Dwarf handed the Hobbit two bowl of soup. "You'll get yours when ya get back."

"Oh, I have to wait?" He whined with a playful wink.

Bofur flicked the laddle at him. "Get outta here!"

Bilbo chuckled and trotted over to where the ponies and Fili, and Kili were. He approached the two a little worried that they stood stock still. In the makeshift corrals, the creatures shuffled nervously. The smell of troll bombarded his nose, he wrinkled it in disgust. The scent was far fresher here than anywhere else in their camp. Is this what Gandalf and Thorin had gotten into a tiff over.

"What seems to be the problem, boys?" Bilbo asked cheerfully.

"We started off with fourteen ponies." Fili muttered.

Kili finished. "But now there are only twelve."

Ooh, these two are in trouble. Bilbo mentally cooed as the Dwarves escorted him to the fence.

"Yup, Minty and Bungo are both missing." Kili observed.

The Hobbit hummed. "Let's go get Thorin."

"No, no, no need to do that!" The brunette squeaked.

"Actually, we were think, Mister Boggins." Fili drawled out. "Since you're our burglar and all…"

He sighed. Of course. Looking at the tree, he decided to go with a witty response. "Well, judging by these tracks, it was something quite large…and possibly dangerous."

"That's what we were thinking." Kili nodded.

"Hm, of course you were."

The two continued to lead Bilbo, following the tracks. For a moment the Hobbit wondered why he was still carrying the soup bowls but quickly dismissed the idea. If these were indeed trolls, in this form he could do very little that would be helpful.

A dull throbbing light appeared in his line of vision. The two others caught sight of it too and they all quickly trundled over to it. Bilbo's breath stuck in his throat. Not only were they indeed trolls, but they were mountain trolls.

Just my luck. He grouched.

"Look!" Kili hissed. "They've got two more!"

"That's Myrtle and Daisy…" Bilbo identified.

"Right." Fili nodded, taking a bowl. "You hoot once like a barn owl,"

"And then hoot twice like a brown owl." Kili finished. "When you get them back. That's all no fancy business."

Bilbo's hazel eyes widened. "Wait—"

But the two young Dwarves had disappeared miraculously.

"Fordæmdur Dvergarnir." He growled under his breath.

Marching forward, Bilbo pulled up the sleeves on his coat. If push came to shove, he did not want Bungo's favorite coat to get singed. He crept his way through the disgusting troll camp, bones and leaves crunching softly under his large feet. Thankfully though, the trolls were as deaf as they were stupid. So they didn't notice his presence.

He came up to the posts where the ponies were tied and looked at them calmly. They nickered in relief as they recognized him. Bilbo placed a finger to his lips, telling them to shush. The horses still skittered, but now they at least remained quiet. Biting his lip, he cursed himself for not bringing a blade of any kind.

Forcing himself to admit a bit of pain, he licked his tongue of the flatness of his teeth, forcing a bit of the magic concealing him to go away. His jaw began to expand a bit, earning a groan from his bones and a bit of a moan of pain from him. His mouth creaked slightly, reacting to the change immediately. When he ran his tongue over them again, he cut it on the sharpness of his fangs. Shifting to the rope, he placed a cord between his lips, and began to saw. He almost gagged at the oily stinky taste that the fibers bore.

The things I do for you, Thorin. He thought bitterly, moving to the next cord.

In no time at all, only one rope remained for him to chew through. The argument the troll were having caught little of his attention and he did his best to ignore them. Yet, he probably should've paid more mind to them than he did originally, because next moment he knew—he was in the hand of one, used as a handkerchief.

"Oh, foul!" He snapped, wiping the snot off of his coat and vest, his teeth reverting back to their normal Hobbit appearance.

"Oy! Look wha' came outta me hooter!" The troll squealed.

"Wha' es eit?" A mean looking troll growled.

"I'm a bur-dra-Hobbit. A Hobbit." Bilbo spluttered, some of the snot having gotten into his mouth.

"A burdrahobbit?" The third troll cooed. "Wha' es that? Can we eat it?"

"No, you can absolutely not eat me!" Bilbo growled, quite fed up with the imbeciles. "In fact, if you don't put me down this second, I'll lay a curse on the lot of you!"

"Yur bluffin'." The mean looking troll growled.

"Am I?" Bilbo arched his brow.

"'Haps ther're mer burdrahobbits runnin' 'bout." The snotty troll piped up.

"No, there are none like me 'round these parts." The hobbit snapped.

"He's makin' eit up." The foul-tempered one rumbled, picking up his knife. "I bet there's pleny of 'em."

"'Nough to make a pie!" The cook troll yammered.

"Hey, drop him!" came a loud shout.

The four of them looked down to see a very bold Kili baring his sword against the three trolls.

Oh you stupid boy. Where's your brother? Bilbo facepalmed.

"I said, drop him." Kili growled with a sneer.

All havoc broke out as the other Dwarves of the company—Thorin included—rushed from the bushes, slashing at the monster's calves. Bilbo was thrown from the hand and into Kili. They both tumbled across the floor in a jittered heap.

"You never hooted, so we went and got help." He said with a smile. "Wait here, we'll take care of this."

Meanwhile, the ponies ran about, their hooves banging the ground. Bilbo sat down bored, resting his head against his palm. He would like to say hours went by before they ended up getting captured and sacked. The Dwarves honestly couldn't handle three little trolls? Oh, well…they'd used Ori as leverage so that might have been unfair play on their field, yet still. The Dwarves were being roasted and he'd tried stalling using parasites as excuses. That'd slowed the trolls down a bit but not enough, he glanced up sunlight barely streaming over the rock carapaces.

"I should probably end this." He muttered.

Moving forward, he walked into the stormy panic like a calm star. Thorin hissed at him to come back and the other Dwarves approached.

"They'll kill ya in a second!"

"Get back 'ere laddie, yer not really a traitor!"

"What are you doing?"

"Get back here, burglar!"

Bilbo ignored them all, his eyes timing the sun's rays perfectly.

"Trolls, are your heads too teeny tiny for your big fat bodies, or are your bodies too teeny tiny for your big fat heads?"

The Dwarves blanched and silenced as Bilbo's taunt rang through the camp. He smirked, his hazel eyes darkening. Oh, he'd miss this. Somehow that nightmare the other night had reawaken the powerful being that slumbered silently within him.

"Oy ya stinker!" The mean troll snarled, lunging forward.

At that moment two things happened.

Gandalf appeared—albeit ill timed—cracking the stones around the camp allowing the sunlight to flood through. And the second thing that happened was Bilbo opened his fire pit that remained dormant in his belly. Just like he had during the Fell Winter. He cursed the Wizard as the fire fled from his mouth and upon the changing trolls. The Dwarves shouted at the bright light, mistaking the fire for the brilliant light of the sun.

Immediately as he'd opened it, he cut his fire organ shut. The fire dropping from his mouth like saliva. Of course both that and blood followed the course. He looked up at Gandalf his eyes mocking.

"Bad timing, Töframaður." Bilbo hissed, blood slipping past his fingers that had moved to cover his mouth.

"You're the one who decided to use fire, Bilbo Baggins." Gandalf rumbled back.

The Hobbit sank to his knees, the world starting to spin. Gandalf cursed lunging forward to stop the little being from falling on his face. The Dwarves shouted in shock.

"I told you never to do that again! It saps too much of your strength maintain secrecy from any other dragon while using your power!" Gandalf whispered sharply.

"I know…" Bilbo cooed. "But I didn't think…I had a choice…"

"No, you simply did not think." Gandalf cut back, observing the Dwarves who were struggling to get free to help them. "Honestly, you'd do anything for the Dwarves."

"You came back…" Bilbo murmured after a pause.

"Of course I did you foolish dragon, keep your eyes open."

"I…want to winter sleep, Gandalf."

"None of that nonsense Bilbo."

"Too late."

The Hobbit closed his eyes, the world tilting in black…

…before his lids swiftly shot open, his face embraced by a swift pain of sharp coldness.