You Had Me at "Handkerchief" {Bilbo Baggins/LOTR}

Chapter VI: Misfortune Runs in the Family

Chapter VI:

Misfortune Runs in the Family

We leave Bree early the next morning so as to avoid further suspicion and gasping on part of my title. It is dawn as we cross through the newly-opened Northern gate of the human town, and very few people are awake to see us leave. Indeed, we'll just be a myth of an arrival in this town, remembered by those who saw us last night. To anyone else, we are mere travelers in search of the elvish homeland.

The roads moving out of Bree cross through a forest terrain of remarkable beauty and despite the muddy setting. Rich foliage hangs from the elm and oak trees, hindering the morning sun in a mosaic of light and dark. In date, we are traveling through the autumn months, yet the shrubbery of summer has yet to recognize this change, grasping to their leaves in a dying breath. And thus, the weather is cool and the trees are shrouded in light just as they were in summer.

Bilbo and I speak of a wide range of topics, only controlled by the wild whim of mind. We speak about the chipmunks of Erebor (who are still alive to this day, and much to my mother's chagrin) to the vegetables grown in the Shire. Did you know that Farmer Maggot grows starfruit? I surely did not.

The day wears on into noon, when we take a break to eat lembas bread and keep hydrated. I do, indeed, wonder where the hobbit bought the elvish cracker bread, but have little desire to question the subject. I'd much rather spend my time eating than talking. Hunger is not a force I'll be battling with today.

Through the munching and smacking of our teeth, we drone out the approaching monster to our East. And looking back now, I sincerely question how we missed such a large beast as was this, for even in the foliage, his size was great enough to be seen miles away. It isn't till the huffing of breath that we realized a dragon is leering above our small heads.

"Run!" I scream as I grab a startled Bilbo's hand and leap through the foliage and back onto the path. We careen into the vacant trail, dodging low hanging bushes as the dragon's feet pound behind us. With each step that it takes, Bilbo and I are launched slightly in the air by the tremors of the earth. The dragon's vast weight is like an earthquake at each step.

Whipping my head around for a quick look, I gape at the dragon's enormity and appearance. I have heard the countless tales of Smaug and his desolation, but never did I truly grasp his magnificence. This dragon, despite angry intentions, is a beautiful creature unmatched by any. His armored scales are gold and flawless, eyes a deep blue and serpentine. Fiery smoke blazes from his nose, and his wings are tucked idly at his side. With each step he takes, trees are knocked down by his muscled hind legs, flexing under the dragon's weight. His tail swipes back-and-forth, like a clock counting down the time till our deaths.

Before a moment too soon, the dragon unleashes an inferno upon the forest, right in our direction. Little does the monster know that Bilbo and I are invincible to the flames, so when we come running out of their yellow hues, a look of disbelief colors his dark eyes. Indeed, the danger in this situation is not so much the fire, but the snapping jaws and pounding feet that can crush us in a second. And thus, our escape must be by keeping outside the dragon's range of contact.

Knowing that this running is futile in face of a dragon, I stop in my tracks with arms raised in surrender. Turning around, I give the dragon a hard look unlike my personality, as he slows to a stop as well. Bilbo seemingly realizes I have stopped running, pulling my arm in a gesture to continue.

"Who are you and why do you walk in my woods?" the dragon growls in a very low tone, like Bilbo described of Smaug. Looking at the hobbit, I recognize his horrified gaze and a look of remembrance, as if he's reflecting on his previous conversation with a dragon. Honestly, I think Bilbo has a thing for attracting draconic trouble.