A/N: Google 'Abyssal high dragon' if you want to know what he looks like. I've been writing this thing on and off for years and currently, I'm stuck at a writer's block, so I'm just going to post it and see if inspiration drops in. I have 40 000 words ready to go, I will release them as I finish editing. Expect about 1 chapter a week.

...

Belladonna Baggins was surely the oddest hobbit in the Shire, but even to her, finding thirteen heavily armoured dwarves on her doorstep was not a common occurrence. Although, it was not entirely unprecedented, so the old hobbit recovered quickly and straightened with surprising ease, "My household will not be entertaining any thrill seekers today, thank you. Find your sport elsewhere. I hear the bears are reliable this time of year." She waggled a finger because that made the proclamation sterner, somehow, and went to shut the door.

"One moment, dear Bella."

She paused and craned her head. A tall figure leaned in from the side. She smiled, "Gandalf, I should have recognised your hand in this." But honesty it was tea time and of all the rude ways to interrupt a meal… well, Gandalf should know better.

"You are brighter every time I see you, my friend. Might we discuss matters indoors?" Gandalf's eye's crinkled deeply.

She huffed. "Flattery will get you scones at least. Come in. Though, might I know why I'm entertaining this evening?" she dryly suggested. A dwarf muttered something about food and the flood commenced. "Just a suggestion," she yelled around the corner at the retreating figures.

When Belladonna received no reply, she followed with a shrug.

…

"When will we meet our fourteenth member, Gandalf?" Balin asked.

"Bilbo doesn't keep facilities to accommodate guests, I'm afraid," Gandalf lit his pipe and sat back with a sigh. "But Belladona and Bungo Baggins are his family and very good friends of mine, I thought they might put us up in his stead."

Balin frowned. "Thorin won't like it. He had planned to set out early. When will we meet him?"

"Soon." When there was not enough time to back out. "After Thorin arrives, we will meet Bilbo for dinner. That should break the ice nicely. He does a good roast. Just don't get gravy on the books."

"The books?"

"Bilbo lives in a library." Gandalf eyed the tarts and apples sailing through the air between dwarves, and frowned thoughtfully. "It may be safer to eat outside."

"I'll say," Belladonna scolded. "He'll knock you flat if you get crumbs between the pages."

Dwalin straightened, with the look of a person who'd just caught an unexpected break. "He has some fighting experience, then? Does he prefer an axe or sword?"

The hobbit blinked slowly. "He dislikes both. Why do you ask?"

A dwarf on the sidelines turned a guarded look on the wizard, "You said he agreed to the quest."

"I said he would, Master Balin." A smoke ring merrily circled the lantern.

"Aye, and I assumed that meant you would ask."

"All in due time."

A red haired one hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the foreign trinkets on the mantelpiece. He turned to the host. "Is burglary a family occupation?" Belladonna had collected them on her travels many years ago, but that wasn't the point.

Dwarves had a history with Bilbo's kind and, shall we say, 'disputes over the of ownership of valuables'. They sought him now on the word of a cagey wizard who'd labelled him a – "Burglar? Really, Gandalf, don't you think that's a bit insensitive?"

The wizard puffed out a smoke ring and nodded gravely. Belladonna suspected he wasn't listening.

It was just as well Bilbo could handle himself, or Belladonna might feel guilty letting him sort out this mess.

Perhaps she'd go watch.

…

It was late, and Thorin still had not shown. Gandalf measured the consequences of dropping in on Bilbo while he was sleeping against Thorin's ire, and easily decided to leave directions with Belladonna.

Twelve dwarves and a wizard set off into the night. "This may require some diplomacy," the wizard warned them. His voice invited no objections. "You will let me greet him first."

The jovial chatter dropped off, many of the Company reached for their weapons. Gandalf quickly clarified; "Not dwarven diplomacy."

They grumbled, disappointed.

"A library," Dori muttered disparagingly. "What kind of thief makes such a place his den of inequity? It's unnatural, and that surely must be worse than the regular kind. Nori, get away from Ori."

"What kind indeed," Gandalf muttered. "It's a lovely place, cut into the side of large hill. Very spacious. It's the greatest collection in a thousand miles, you know –"

"What's that?" Kili interrupted.

"Those green spots? It looks like the glow-worm cave. Do you remember the one?" Fili answered. "It's moving though. What's that silhouette?"

"Dragon!" Dwalin roared. He shoved the princes, "Go! Run for the ponies, I'll buy you time!"

"Brother!"

"Cousin!"

The dwarves charged.

Gandalf swung his staff out to trip them, but he was too late. "No, you fools!"

It was one thing to hear stories of a dragon's great strength and size. It was another altogether to unexpectedly encounter a beast that could squash a dwarf with a single finger.

The dragon was heavily armoured, only it's belly was slightly weaker than the rest, though that mattered little because even a tall man would have trouble reaching it.

It stood, balanced on its four legs, and stretched a pair of vast wings out wide. It tilted its head, framed by bulky horns that swept out and forward, pointing to the sky. It opened its jagged mouth, showing many sharp teeth in a mighty – yawn?

Bilbo felt an axe glance off his scales in a shower of sparks. That would need sharpening later.

He squinted down at the panicking little creatures running around between his legs. Clearly, they weren't locals, but Bilbo did not have much experience with the customs of other races, it was very flustering to be put on the spot like this. He cleared his throat, bemused by the whole situation, and for lack of any ideas, decided to just treat them like hobbits.

He crouched and tilted his head, offering a horn. "May I hang your cloaks?"

The dwarves froze in various threatening poses, gaping at Bilbo like he'd handed them something they had no idea what to do with.

Oh dear. Perhaps dwarves didn't greet like men or elves, what if the axes held ceremonial significance and Bilbo had misread the whole situation?

This organised gathering smelt of adventure. But then the wizard arrived, which by itself removed all doubt.

"Put that away," the tall man rapped his staff against a sword as he passed, slightly out of breath. "There's no need for weapons here."

"Gandalf," the dragon said with ire.

His wrinkled face relaxed into a smile, a warm hand came to rest on the dragon's talon with surprising strength. "Bilbo," he said fondly, "it has been too long."

"Yes, yes, you never visit, you don't write. But there is hopeless communication between friends, and then there is springing twelve dwarves on a poor fellow without warning."

The infernal wizard coughed into his beard in what would've seemed like contrite, had Bilbo not known him so well. "Thirteen."

"Pardon?"

His eyes positively twinkled with mirth. "Their leader has yet to arrive. Come now, if I thought it would truly upset you, I would have given you at least enough time to flee. If not just for my own amusement."

Bilbo sighed. "I suppose you gave these dwarves as much consideration and warning. Honestly Gandalf."

Bilbo's front lawn was in a terrible state. His mailbox had been knocked over, the garden beds had been trampled with no consideration to the flowers. One dwarf had ripped a tree up to use as a club. Gandalf considered how much carnage one more dwarf could cause, and ceded the point. "Perhaps it would be best if someone warned our leader, Gloin, if you would locate him?"

In the end, nothing was broken, only trust and feelings were hurt, but Bilbo dragged out two boars and a deer, which went a way to mending bridges.

Bilbo sat himself away from the others out of curtesy – most beings didn't appreciate his table manners. He managed to pack down half the buck and some pastries (wherever those had come from) in record time, before his attention was required once more.

"What is the meaning of this?" Some of the Company had just started to believe they weren't the second course, but a glare from the late arrival set them straight. He was bristling with fury and suspicion. His followers dropped their food and hurried guiltily to his side. "You lead us here, under false pretences, to drop us in front of a dragon without warning."

"False pretences, why, I never!" The wizard twinkled. "Ah, Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Bilbo perked up with a squeak, "Oakenshield! Oh you ridiculous wizard, why didn't you say so!"

Bilbo's instinctual grab at their leader didn't help interspecies relations at all.

Thankfully, Gandalf's dry remark stopped him before he could give chase. "Bilbo, some people do not appreciate being snatched up. Most people, actually."

Bilbo's cheeks flamed. He deliberately sat on his hands, cleared his throat, and settled for pinning the dwarf under his unnerving gaze. "Welcome, King of Durin's Folk. It's an honour."

Bilbo suspected Gandalf had known exactly how badly the surprise would fluster him. If Gandalf had wanted to save Bilbo's dignity, he would have given the dragon a week to get it out of his system.

But Thorin Oakenshield was on his front yard! Still! Bungo would club him with a frying pan if he caught wind of it.

"Come in, can I get you anything? Take your coat? I'm sure there's some food left – there's another chair around the eastern study, could you just – thank you, Master Dwarf, that's most helpful." Bilbo made good use of the confusion to herd the dwarves back to the fire before they knew what hit them. "You can leave your weapons on the table, or – yes, I can see why you may wish to keep them with you – guests' prerogative!"

Oakenshield shot Gandalf a disturbed look.

"Well, like I said, no being knows dragons better. Aside from personal experience, Bilbo is something of a scholar by trade," here the wizard gestured to the books and scrolls pilled on every surface. "Stories are his great passion. Adventure, intrigue…"

"Adventure, pah! That doesn't make a story." Bilbo snorted derisively. "I could recite a thousand tales along those lines and none would be as interesting as yours."

"Interesting?" Oakenshield repeated menacingly.

Bilbo winced. Bad choice. Mustn't trivialise the darkest period of recent dwarven history. He quickly rephrased. Behind him, Gandalf chuffed merrily and got out his pipe. Sure, leave the dragon out to dry.

"When people lose both king and country they almost invariably crumble and disperse. But even a generation on, your people still name themselves dwarves of Erebor. It is purely due to your strength that your people withstood apathy and hunger, and your kingdom survives to this day. Somehow – remarkably – you carved out a new place in the world for an entire nation. That is the part I find interesting."

Bilbo could smell agreement and pride on the Company, though they remained stubbornly frowning.

Thorin wouldn't quite meet anyone's gaze. Gruffly, he moved the conversation along. "We did not journey all this way for stories."

That certainly broke the mould of Gandalf's visits. A suspicion formed as more pieces were revealed to Bilbo's mind. He didn't think he was going to like it, but he reserved his judgement, hiding behind a genial smile, "So you're not seeking information; that is highly irregular. Why did Gandalf bring you here?"

"That, I would like to know," Thorin turned his glare to a party that was slightly more deserving of it. "Are the troubles that plague my kin a joke to you, wizard?"

Oakenshield was still poised to fight. Bilbo felt like a terrible host, making a guest so uneasy, but the wizard owned a share of the blame. The dragon clenched his fists and glared at Gandalf until he had the decency to look regretful, and then some more for good measure.

Bilbo was going to hang a low chandelier in every hall. See if he didn't.

He couldn't erase the dwarf's experience with his kind, but at least he could stop looming so much. It was a bit degrading but, well, someone had to make up for the dreadful treatment they'd put up with and the wizard clearly wasn't planning to. Bilbo stretched out his neck and lay his heavy head on the ground. That was as nonthreatening as it could get. He was still looking down at them, but that was something only Mahal could rectify; they only reached his nostrils.

"Do not let your preconceptions blind you, Thorin, if any being has a chance of winning victory for your quest, it is Bilbo." Thankfully, the dwarf didn't noticed how Bilbo twitched at the 'q' word like and exited faunt. Bless Gandalf; he brought the most interesting people when he passed through the Shire. "Would you have come this far if I'd told you everything?"

"That should have been our choice!" Thorin roared. He had a point, so Bilbo didn't remind him to use his library voice. "What of the backdoor, the stone, the entire plan you compiled to justify hiring a burglar in the first place? A hobbit. One that does not even exist."

Now, that was interesting.

"You have spewed naught but trickery and lies. Why should I trust your words? You clearly have your own plans and agendas that you keep to yourself."

Didn't he always. Bilbo waved away that small issue, "Oh never mind him, he has to find his amusement somewhere. Tell me about this venture of yours!"

"I trust your intentions even less than I do his. We owe you none of our secrets, dragon."

Rude. "Well, how about we establish what isn't a secret and go from there?" Of several reasons he could imagine Thorin Oakenshield leading a quest, only one was remotely likely. "I suppose you're returning to Erebor to slay a dragon and restore your crown?"

Thorin glared at a pair of young dwarves, who piped up indignantly, "We didn't say anything!"

"It is obvious," Bilbo dismissed. "I just can't quite work out how you might do it. You have one idea, Gandalf clearly has something with more horns and fire in mind; it's very confusing, you understand." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You can't possibly hope to kill Smaug with only a dozen soldiers. Most would not commit an army to such a task. Well, that's probably your problem; you have none, and you're certainly not on a quest to barter aid from men or elves. You'd need divine directive to move the dwarf lords – that, I assume, is what you seek. The Arkenstone?"

Silence. Beautiful, astounded silence. Slightly smug, Bilbo pointed out, "I can see I am correct. Fury is written all over you."

The game was up. "That's the gist of it," Balin confirmed.

"He will warn Smaug of our plans," Thorin bristled.

Gandalf signed exasperatedly, "You needn't fear them both. There is only one group that the dragons fight with more than dwarves, and that is with one another. They are so fiercely territorial that, if Bilbo was near, the rest of us would not even register in Smaug's attention."

"Assuming Smaug is still alive," another added. There was a smattering of optimistic agreement.

"There's definitely a live dragon in the mountain," Bilbo dismissed. If they were lucky, it would be a different, less peckish lizard, but he didn't hold high hopes. "Regardless, I cannot help with what you have in mind."

Thorin scoffed. "You wouldn't even fit through the entrance."

Bilbo ignored the interruption. "And I doubt I will be much good at whatever the wizard has is mind, either." The wizard must know this, what was he playing at? Bilbo decided to probe the area with the proverbial stick. "Really, Gandalf? You want to pit me against another dragon, in an enclosed space with no room to manoeuvre?"

"You've fought other dragons?" this time, there was a tinge of hope.

"And won?" Thorin supplied with his own special flavour of doubt.

"Do you think I got these scars from hobbits with pitchforks?" Some were wide enough for the faunts to use as slides. His enthusiasm took a sudden dampening. He sighed. "Even if I thought it was possible, I'd still have to decline. Best case, the round trip will take six months. I can't leave my home for so long."

There was silence, apart from a quiet sigh of that brief hope deflating from one of the youngsters that made Bilbo feel quite guilty and selfish. Which was just ridiculous.

"Look, I'd like to help you –" oh and that just made Bilbo feel worse. How many times had these dwarves heard those same meaningless words? He grit his teeth. He should never have had to deal with this. "There are conditions around my residency that Gandalf is well aware of. So unless he proposes we fly to the mountain and back…"

"Out of the question." Thorin shot it down.

"Then I suppose you should find a hobbit. Take heart. If you succeed in fighting Smaug rather than feeding him, it will go down as one of the most unexpected coups in history."

He rose, stretched, and walked away from the bickering. It was shame that Oakenshield's story would end so badly.

…

"I had plans, Bilbo." There was a note of weariness, a certain droop to Gandalf's inflection that bequeathed tiredness more than anger. That, more than anything, convinced the dragon that he was serious. But he wasn't about to concede to the wizard without a fight.

"I suppose we don't always get what we want." He buried the worm of guilt under bluster, rubbing his shins for good measure. He was going to have bruises. Who'd have thought dwarves packed such a punch. "You know the consequences. For me, for the Shire."

"I do."

Bilbo tilted his head. "But you ask me to leave anyway." Silence. He sighed. "Why are you getting involved with that dusty old drake, Gandalf? Really?"

"The importance of the outcome of this quest cannot be put into words."

The dragon glared. Anger bubbled up and he spat it out. "You're asking me to die, wizard. I sincerely hope I'm worth more effort to you, than that."

"I'm asking as a friend, for you to trust me. I believe we can defeat him. I believe we must, before it is too late, or else all will fall to the shadow."

Well that certainly was a depressing outcome. The anger vanished as quickly as it rose. "What are you trying to avoid?"

Gandalf cocked an eyebrow.

"Sending a hobbit in after the Arkenstone might have worked," Bilbo said, optimistically. "I will only save you the necessity of using the Arkenstone and armies. So which is it?"

"It is not so simple. There are many fell things to be avoided, and not all of them start and end at that mountain."

This was bigger than Erebor. Much bigger.

"I… I suppose my rein was coming to an end anyway. It's best to go out with a bang, you know."

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows lowered over sad eyes. "I will do my best to protect you, my friend, never doubt that."

"I don't," he confessed, like it was a weakness. "But some things even wizards can't prevent."

The stars were lovely, that night. Bilbo studied them meticulously. Would they look different from the East?

Gandalf smoked until the embers burnt through their fuel. The dwarves probably still hadn't calmed down.

"I fear there is little chance that Thorin will agree to take you along."

Bilbo snorted. "After that introduction? I am sure of it."

"My plans work out in the end."

At that defensive answer, Bilbo was forced to hide a grin in the guise of grooming his wings. "It doesn't necessarily follow that they're always good plans. How you imagined that anyone would be comfortable after such a surprise, I have no idea."

The disappointment dripped away. "Forgive me, my friend," the wizard backed away and sat on the bench with great care. "I feared Thorin would be incurably stubborn if he knew the truth. He will not succeed without you."

"Well, if you're to convince them before we all turn to dust, I suggest you get started. They're not very pleased with you, either."

"Cheeky," Gandalf muttered sourly, and bopped him with his staff with surprising speed. "You helped get us into this, and so you shall brave the stubbornness of dwarves with me."

Bilbo wasn't concerned. The wizard always got his way eventually.

Although, Bilbo had never seen him face someone like Thorin.

…

Gandalf made an affronted noise, a pout made audible. "Bilbo could succeed where legions of dwarves will fail."

"Armies sufficed in the past." Stubborn as a mule, that one.

"At unimaginable cost, and with enchanted arrows that have ceased to be made. Individuals with the skill you require are now as rare as dragons themselves." Gandalf was losing rein on his temper. The dragon found himself leaning forward unconsciously, eager to watch the spectacle from the outside for once.

Balin hummed. "He has a point, Thorin. If a dragon could fight with us, it would go a long way to occupying Smaug's attention and strength."

Perhaps sensing a loss in that direction, Thorin neatly avoided it by changing tracks entirely. "We will worry about the dragon under the mountain when no longer in danger of –"

"Of the dragon under the hill? The dragon that hasn't attacked you yet, though you've spent hours in his home, eating his food and insulting his character. Any reasonable person could see he clearly has no intention of doing so." The wizard wore a look he was only brought to in extreme circumstances. The one that seemed to say; 'I know you're not that stupid, because no one can be that stupid. You must be trying especially hard today. So why don't you try again and rephrase that?'

Yes, that look.

Bilbo was impressed that the dwarves had managed to summon it on such short notice.

"He wouldn't enjoy the attempt," Dwalin promised, muscles tense and defined, as he glared at Bilbo suspiciously.

Bilbo was ready to wash his hands of this business. "Would not or could not; either way are we agreed that no one is getting killed today?"

"Hgrmmm."

"Then move aside, Mister Dwalin, we have a schedule to keep."

"Indeed. We now have to find another burglar when we should be moving on the mountain." Judging by the direction and intensity of his scowl, Thorin blamed Gandalf for this, and he planned to deal with Bilbo by pretending he didn't exist.

Dwalin had no such qualms. His stare never left Bilbo's back as they made their way to the patio once more, his hand didn't leave the handle of his axe.

Gandalf refused to say a word until they were all seated. He ignored the weapons at the table, and how bodies shifted whenever the dragon twitched. He sipped his tea, which must've been stone cold by then, with dignity.

Once the wizard could pretend he was surrounded by more civilised people, he continued as if he'd never left off. "Nonsense. Bilbo will make a fine addition to your company."

"I agreed to allow a Halfling. And we will find one."

"Actually, why didn't you approach Belladonna, Gandalf? She'd be thrilled to travel beyond the mountains," Bilbo piped up. Only the slight tapping on his talons betrayed his ire. Oakenshield glared at him for breaking the happy illusion of his non-existence.

Gandalf sighed. "The task requires, at the very least, spry knees. She is getting on in years, and after Bungo's sickness I doubt she would leave his side."

Bilbo had to grant him that one. "Well I'm hardly as young as I was, either."

The wizard rolled his eyes. "In all my years I will never understand the standards of dragons, Bilbo you are perfectly fit."

The candid reminder caused several dwarves to twitch. Balin interrupted loudly, "Are there not more Halflings in the Shire that may help us?"

"Hobbits do not leave," Bilbo shook his head. "You'd be lucky to find one willing to escort you to Bree, especially if you called them a Halfling."

"I'll not chase a dragon off its hoard just to make room for another." Thorin looked down his nose and his face darkened. In response, Bilbo just rolled his eyes.

"You have my word that I won't keep your mountain or treasure. Gold holds little of my attention, Oakenshield, I assure you."

A scoff. "All dragons are obsessed with treasure."

"Now, Thorin –"

Bilbo waved it away. "No, he's correct, Gandalf. Beings with the power to get whatever they wish tend to be worse than others. But it is a drive most people on this earth share. Do you not have things you treasure?" As he looked around the gathering, he didn't see many faces that looked like they might concede his point. Some looked vaguely sick at the implication that they had something in common. "Heirlooms, knowledge, power, your family, the continued happiness and wellbeing of your people? You're in my home, look around you, and you will see what I treasure."

Oakenshield pulled a face like he was shitting marbles. Thankfully Ori was willing to answer, or they might have been there all night. "Books?"

Close enough. Bilbo offered the young dwarf a nod. He paled immediately, leaving the dragon to wonder what happened to that 'dwavish iron up his jacksie' business. It was a shame; he'd quite liked the imagery.

"We are nothing alike," Thorin spat.

Bilbo's eyes switched targets and they visibly narrowed. He didn't buy it for a second. "There is obviously something at stake here that you are willing to die to collect. Is it your nephews you fight for, to secure their legacy and future, regain a home and culture for your people… or have I misjudged you?"

Was is it merely the gold and prestige they sought, the dragon wondered. Perhaps the dwarves turned towards the mountain for the same reason Smaug the Destroyer once did. Bilbo would have liked to ask, but he stayed his tongue. Gandalf had firmly insisted that he avoid a bloodbath.

Thorin's eyes were cold. The prince broke contact first, standing suddenly with a scrape of his chair.

"This detour has been a waste of time; clearly, we are destined to undertake this feat alone. Allies meddle behind our backs, all the races of Middle Earth cannot be counted upon," he shook his head, braids twisted and silver beads clicked. He didn't sound defeated or angry, or much of anything besides disappointed. Like the world had just lived up to his low expectations once more.

"We're leaving. Perhaps the Bagginses will be willing to provide shelter for the night. We will not harm or disrespect your hobbits. That is more curtesy that you deserve."

Bilbo's lips stretched with the serene smile he wore for Sackville-Bagginses, "Please mind the tomato patch on the way out."

Bilbo decided to let the Company gather their belongings in peace.

"Where do you think you're going?" Gandalf demanded.

Bilbo shrugged. The atmosphere wasn't to his liking. "The forest. I take it you'll be gone by morning?"

"I will go with them, yes. They're rather lacking the sense to make this journey, I only hope I can make up the difference."

"What will they do about their burglar?" he wondered.

"Nori is a capable thief."

A dwarf with very dramatic hair looked mighty uncomfortable having that pointed out so blatantly in a dragon's lair. Bilbo grinned at probably-Nori and hummed noncommittally in answer to Gandalf. "Let him know that dragons can tell when thieves palm their belongings. Do that pointed look of yours while you're at it. I quite like those bookmarks."

The dwarves made a suddenly hastened departure. Silence descended on Bilbo and Gandalf, and it was unusually awkward.

"Well, you tried," Bilbo managed, and though he didn't quite mean it, he added, "Wish them luck for me."

Gandalf just looked at him. Yes, with that look. Bilbo held fast. He averted his eyes and bit his lip.

He caved like bad bread.

"Fine! I'll follow them. Stop looking at me like that, you infernal creature."