[General POV]
-Bilbo-
"Boom" "Boom" "Boom"
Distant thunderous sounds echoed, and the ground beneath his feet wobbled as if it were made of jelly. It was extremely difficult to take a step in this immense chamber filled with gold, compounded by the constant tremors shaking his soul. Aldril was locked in battle with the dragon while he stole all the treasure he could, a task that would be remarkably easy were it not for the continuous quakes and the difficulty of moving through so many gold coins.
"What should I take?" he wondered. There were so many treasures that their glow illuminated the room, which should have been shrouded in darkness. However, that dwarven engineering allowed a subtle hint of moonlight or sunlight to filter through tiny holes, imperceptible to the naked eye, letting particles of light reflect off the golden hue of the treasure.
"This necklace looks nice," he said, lifting a ruby-laden necklace. "Yes, let's keep this, and this." Bilbo wasn't just an ordinary hobbit—no, he was quite skilled at identifying valuable gems, a quality he had acquired as a child. His family was wealthy, so it was natural for him to grow up seeing jewels and gold coins.
Besides, our dear Mr. Baggins was humble by nature, which is why so much wealth seemed to him like just a pile of random trinkets. Yes, Bilbo could live with just the essentials and be perfectly happy with them.
"Yes, this set of cups would look good in my collection," he said as he picked up a silver teapot, utensils scattered around due to the tremors. But a serious question, why did Bilbo remain calm despite the distant booms? The answer was simple: his unwavering confidence in Aldril.
""I will handle the dragon; you handle the gold," he had said. And in Aldril's eyes, Bilbo saw a fierce concentration that was intimidating just to look at. He trusted his friend, yes, his friend. Though his nerves gnawed at him, making his steps unsteady, he had heard the dragon roar in pain, which told him his friend was keeping his promise.
"If Aldril showed courage by facing the dragon, then I must also remain steady and keep my promise," he had said, which helped our dear hobbit to stay calm.
As he inspected his surroundings, a soft, whitish glow caught his attention. There, among the immense piles of gold coins, lay a necklace that shone like a star, with white gems that illuminated his face. "What a beautiful necklace," he murmured before stowing it in Aldril's spatial ring.
Yes, Aldril had given him this ring before the battle so he could gather treasure more quickly and in larger quantities. "I trust you, Bilbo," he had said while handing him the ring. "You're my friend, and I know you won't steal from me," were his final words before they took separate paths.
"What else should I take now? Oh, that gem..." Whatever he was about to say got stuck in his throat, for he felt an immense attraction to a helm resting atop a mound of gold. Up high lay a helm, with golden bands and a dragon engraved on the crest that caught his attention. With small, nimble steps, he moved through the pile of gold. "This helm..." a fleeting thought crossed his mind as he held it. "Yes, I'm sure Aldril would like this. I'll save it for him."
-Aldril-
As a warrior, he demonstrated unmatched bravery; only a few in this Third Age could say they had the will to stand before a dragon, and even more so, to confront it! Anyone witnessing this battle would exclaim, "What a brave warrior!" And even more so, if he managed to kill the dragon, he would be acclaimed by all. Songs would be sung of his great feat, he would no longer be in his mother's shadow! But did this matter to Aldril? No, on the contrary, he didn't care about fame; he longed only for experiences, adventures he could later share with his children.
He aimed for the highest honor: "To be remembered." He didn't want his name to disappear into the mists of time; he wanted to be remembered.
As King Leonidas once told Dilios before he died, "Remember us." He didn't desire monuments or songs, just one simple thing: "To be remembered." And now, he was fulfilling that purpose. He had gone on a grand adventure with the dwarves, and now he would achieve his set goal, slay this dragon and be remembered as the one who killed the largest dragon of this age! Just as Eärendil was remembered.
"Boom"
The enormous, scaly tail crashed into yet another pillar. This was beginning to annoy him. This place was no fit for him; these pillars gave far too much cover to the human-elf. His massive size allowed that cursed rat to harm him little by little.
"Stop hiding like a cursed rat!" he roared in frustration, only to receive a cut to his belly that made him roar in pain.
The wound on his belly alarmed him. Now he remembered that this sword was capable of cutting through his tough scales, so tough that a special alloy had been created just to penetrate one of them. Now, this sword, forged in Gondolin, demonstrated that in ancient times, the elves were superior to the dwarves in weapon crafting.
His body began to heat up, and a flickering reddish light glowed on his wounded belly. Aldril noticed this and quickly moved with agility toward a column, a natural reaction to the move Smaug was planning to make.
"Fuuuuuuh"
That flickering light on his belly was a clear sign that the dragon's fiery breath was coming, a fire so hot that it instantly melted the gold coins in its path. Even the pillar where Aldril hid was visibly heated, the stone turning a vibrant red as if it were a piece of metal fresh from the furnace.
The fire spread to the sides, passing like embers. Smaug delighted in this sight, hoping that foolish human would suffer from the heat of his flames. But now, with his anger subsiding, he wondered, why had he come until now? That elf had hurt him, yes, and he wanted revenge on her, and what better way than to kill her son? But still, he had noticed this young man wasn't as strong as that woman. He had inflicted wounds, from which he could easily recover. His initial arrogance returned, and he didn't take him too seriously; he knew he could kill him, but not here! He had to be smart and lure him to a more open area.
These dragons bred by Morgoth were intelligent; they weren't idiots. Their arrogance and bad temper would be their only flaws. A plan took shape in his mind; he had to distract and deceive him.
Once his fire stopped spreading, he asked with his majestic voice resonating through the hall's echo, "Tell me, boy, why have you really come?" he said. "I smell dwarves and men; don't tell me they're paying you to kill me?" he mocked.
'Why is he talking now? A distraction to make me lower my guard?' Aldril wondered, still staying alert. In the reflection of his sword, he watched Smaug's movements. He wouldn't be foolish enough to run out now.
His silence was the sign Smaug was waiting for, and he continued talking to distract him. "So, I'm right. But are you sure they'll pay you? Dwarves and men are usually greedy. If you manage the feat of killing me…" he sneered, "I'm sure you won't come out unscathed. They'll take advantage and stab you in the back to avoid paying you anything."
"What are you talking about?" Aldril said out loud, still hidden by the pillar. "I came without needing a contract," he lied, not wanting to give Smaug the satisfaction of being right about being hired to kill him.
"Don't lie!" Smaug roared. "I recognize the smell of humans from that lake town. Now…" It was then that he felt it. The countless years he had spent with this treasure had allowed him to imbue it with his magic. He knew every ounce of this vast hoard, and now he felt it, he'd been robbed! Now he understood: the elf's son was only a distraction! Those filthy dwarves and humans were stealing his gold! (To him, Aldril had both the scent of dwarves and humans.)
"THIEVES!!" he bellowed in fury. He no longer cared about Aldril; he turned around and moved at great speed in the direction where he sensed his treasures disappearing.
"As if I'd let you," Aldril muttered, running. His speed couldn't be compared to human standards; his heightened attributes and physical training with Malenia had allowed him to reach a speed equal to or even greater than Smaug's.
Don't be fooled by Smaug's great size, he was a dragon! A creature of magic! Though dark, it was said that before being corrupted by Morgoth, the creatures from which dragons descend were spirits just below the Maiar. Because of this, despite the corruption, they retained some of their original power, and that magic allowed Smaug to be swift and agile despite his great size.
-Bilbo-
Our little hobbit was stretching out his tiny hand. His objective? A shining stone from which different colors danced like a folkloric dance. Its colors combined with each movement, a gem that enchanted the usually indifferent hobbit. But it wasn't for this reason he was trying to get it; on the contrary, he had recognized it! "The Heart of the Mountain," a brilliant gem greatly beloved by Thorin Oakenshield. This gem was a family relic, and eager to have it back in his hands, Thorin had told him to search for it with vigor.
"Boom" "Boom" "Boom"
Heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, so heavy they caused the stone to fall into Bilbo's hands. "Finally!" he exclaimed with joy. He hadn't noticed the footsteps had ceased; when he turned around, he came face-to-face with the dragon's snout. It was at that moment that he felt terror. His body trembled, his eyes opened wide in disbelief, and cold sweat ran down his body.
'I'm dead' was the thought that crossed his mind, for Smaug was enraged. This time, he wouldn't speak; he'd go straight for the kill and murder the thief. It was a sure death sentence for anyone daring to steal a dragon's treasure.
"Filthy thief," he said furiously, lifting his head as fire accumulated, ready to fry this dirty thief. Oh, how he would enjoy burning him to ashes!
Instinctively, Bilbo took a step back, watching with dread as the dragon gathered his fire. 'Why did I accept this task?' he wondered, now fully realizing the danger. Even Aldril would have a hard time against a dragon.
"Boom"
The expected flame didn't come. Instead, Smaug had stopped building up his fire, as Aldril had arrived just in time. With a thunderous leap, he lunged toward Smaug's head, making a witcher sign with his hands.
A telekinetic wave struck Smaug's face, causing his head, once raised high, to crash down, hitting the piles of gold. It was an effective blow, and the dragon was repelled for a few seconds, enough time for Aldril to look at Bilbo and shout,
"Get out of here!"
Without a word, the hobbit ran toward the entrance, occasionally looking back, only to see his friend standing fearlessly before the figure rising bit by bit.
"I'm sick of you, cursed child!!"
***
15 Advance chapters in "p@treon.com/Mrnevercry"