Chapter Text
Bilbo still remembered laying eyes on the great dragon. Terrified of saying the wrong thing, but fascinated by the great reptile, he thought quickly. But the dragon had surprised him. The dragon enjoyed his words, enjoyed his presence. Even if he threatened to kill him more than once. It took long to get away from the dragon, with his pocket full of treasure, and even then, he knew it was because the big reptile allowed him. Even if he had taken a piece of its treasure. Even if he was a burglar. Even if he travelled with a pack of dwarves.
He had convinced the dwarves not to go further into the mountain; it had taken ridiculous amounts of persuading and something about the dragon being a sociopath and burning everything that was not either gold or Bilbo himself instantly. Especially dwarves. Then he re-entered the mountain hall where he had left the great dragon. But the dragon was not there.
Surprise, and to some extent relief, washed over him, and he went straight to looking for the real prize.
“Looking for this?” A voice, very similar, but less guttural, to the dragon said.
Bilbo turned around to see a smug looking man with a dark mop of curls and pale skin specked with red scales… and wings! He yelped, tumbling over a goblet. The dragon… man… something took in the hobbits form, splayed on his back, both calculating and somewhat amused.
“H-how did you know..?” he asked stuttering, but baffled.
The dragon-man raised an eyebrow at him. “It was painfully obvious,” he drawled, “You travel with dwarves, but you are not one yourself. In fact, you are a hobbit, and a long way from home… not entirely uncomfortable with it. You obviously have not travelled this long before, so you were invited, most likely by a wizard, probably Gandalf. You care for your companions, even if they don’t need your sentiments. How utterly foolish, sentiments,” the dragon laughed, “all one really needs is gold and knowledge.”
Bilbo was utterly baffled by the dragon’s deductions, but upset because of his ridiculing of values. “No it’s not! It’s not all one needs at all, Smaug, and you know it!” he was up and the words out of his mouth even before Bilbo realized he had said them. Immediately regretting his words, he clasped a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut, waiting to be incinerated. It never happened. The dragon looked at him. Emotionless as it may have seemed, the reptilian eyes flickered with brief emotion. Then he scoffed. Bilbo peeked at him, seeing the dragon actually laughing, like he was the funniest thing ever. Poor Bilbo, however, did not understand what was so funny. “Oh dear me,” he though, honestly thinking he would be the main course of a barbeque feast.
“Tell me more about this other things then. Why sentiments are important to you, little Hobbit. I believe you know something about it.” Smaug looked honest with his words.
Bilbo finally dared to open his eyes, looking at the half-man half-dragon creature, “Really?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yes, really,” the man answered, looking at him intently, somewhat annoyed, “anything is better than this tediously dull existence.”
“Oh, okay then,” Bilbo answered, swallowing heavily, trying to gather his thoughts. “You need something like… a form of… companionship. You know… friends, family, people you care about and who care about you.”
Smaug scoffed. “My family is long dead. Not my fault they died. They were not careful enough. And emotion seems dreadful-”
“No, no, you don’t understand!” said Bilbo. “They will love you back and support you and make everything worth it!” He was baffled with the sudden surge of courage.
“I have my doubts about such a thing. Things with minds on their own betrays without a second thought.”
“And then you should be hurt and angry and treat them like traitors! But nobody can live all alone..!”
“I can,” the dragon stated.
“But… everyone needs friends,” Bilbo tried weakly, “People with hearts of gold.”
Smaug’s eyes lit up at the last statement. “Hearts of gold, you say. And would you have a heart of… gold..?” he raised an eyebrow.
Bilbo trembled, “Figuratively speaking, maybe,” he muttered.
“How can figures mean anything!” Frustration. “Unless…” Smaug traced the hobbit’s chest with a long nail. Bilbo shivered under Smaug’s touch, part because the thought scared him, and part of something he could not quite place.
Suddenly, Smaug was a lot closer. At this range, he could clearly see the dragon-man’s scales. He could also see how attractive Smaug was, with his yellow reptilian eyes and high, sharp cheekbones and the texture of the dark messy curls, the horns and wings. Everything. And suddenly, the thought of getting ripped apart because of the prospect of a gold heart seemed less important than the fact that the dragon was naked, nude. Maybe it did not count, since he was not quite human, to say the least.
“I-“ he started, trying to be even braver than before, “I could be your friend.”