The Last of the Guardians Part 2 - A Hobbit Fan Fiction

Chapter 20 - The Dragon's Lair

His breath coming short and sharp, Bilbo watched as Thorin splayed his fingers over the rock, braced himself, and pushed. 

The first thing Bilbo noticed as the door swung open was the wave of warmth that rolled out of the passage beyond. With the sun gone, the mountainside had grown cold, and the hobbit welcomed the sudden heat. It reminded him of the evenings he spent beside the fire of his hobbit hole in the winter months, wrapped up in a blanket with a large cup of tea cradled in his hands.

But this was not Bag End, and with the warmth came the stench of rot, of stagnant air and burnt flesh. Bilbo covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and waited for Thorin to speak.

But all the dwarf could manage was one word, softly spoken. "Erebor," he whispered. He took a step forward and laid a hand on the inner wall of the passage. The anguish of a hundred years etched itself onto Thorin's face, and everywhere Bilbo looked he could see it echoed in the faces of the company. Tears reigned in the eyes of the dwarves, but not a single drop fell. Balin was opening and closing his mouth, trying to speak, but for once he could find no words to express himself.

Then they went in, one by one, until only Nema and Bilbo remained outside. The hobbit was about to follow when he noticed her standing behind him on the corner of the ledge, as far away from the entrance as she could get without being airborne. She appeared to be deep in thought, her brow furrowed, her eyes on the faint lights of the distant Laketown.

"Are you not coming?" he asked, quietly.

She turned her head and gave him a troubled look. "I am afraid to," she admitted. Bilbo watched her run a hand through her feathery wings. "Men have the open land, dwarves have the mountains, and Guardians have the sky. I am afraid to lose sight of it."

Bilbo moved to her side and looked out across the bleak plain below. "I was afraid to step across my own threshold once for fear of being dragged on an adventure - this adventure. When I had stepped out, I was afraid to leave the Shire without my handkerchief but I past that obstacle. Then I was afraid that a great big eagle was going to tear me from the saddle and eat me, but she turned out to be quite a lovely lass in the end." That brought a smile to Nema's lips, faint as it was.

He took this as a sign to continue. "I have been afraid of mountain trolls, of wargs and orcs, of great stone giants, of goblins that dwell in dark places, of huge bear men that keep bees. I have been afraid of spiders of great size, of elves with platinum hair, of drowning in a raging river, and yet I survived all those things." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "But do you know what scares me the most?"

"What?" Nema asked. She was looking at him with round eyes, as though he was about to provide with an answer to life's biggest question.

"I am afraid that we will fail," he said. "I am afraid that we will fall in this last test and that all we have done will be for naught."

Eyes bright, Nema seized his hand. "We will not fail," she promised him. "We will succeed." So strong was her determination that Bilbo could feel it surging through her hand and into his, up his veins and into his heart. We can do it, he thought.

"He will be fine," Bilbo told her as they approached the door together. 

Nema nodded. "I hope you are right," she said, and after one final, fresh breath of air in the moonlight, Bilbo and Nema turned their backs on the world and followed the dwarves into the passage.

It was magnificent. Having never been in dwarven halls before, Bilbo was yet to experience the wonder of their architecture. They had only just come through the back door, and already he was wide-eyed and open-mouthed. The walls around him were flawless, meeting the ceiling and floor at perfect right angles. Three strips of gold ran through the middle of the passage sides, weaving in and out of each other to form a perfectly measured geometric pattern.