#i honestly thought this update would be late considering i hate a horrible headache before

[d3-iseefire]

To Chase The Rising Sun

First Off: CHECK IT OUT. I MANAGED TO CREATE A TITLE WITHOUT THE WORD “SHADOW” IN IT. :D :D

Second: This is a prompt request from @lottelorelei asking for a dragon trainer Bilba. A story popped into my head and I tried really hard to make it a oneshot but it was like “No, I am a full story, WRITE me.” I sent the idea to my beta and she wrote back with “That sounds like a full story, not a oneshot.” SO, full story it is and now I have five going BUT I draw the line at that cause I don’t want a ton of incomplete stories on my account, but five it is! :D

I’m going to be posting a Christmas related fic next week (I’ve posted a snippet it on here - called “A Very Frosted Christmas” so if the beginning sounds familiar it’s cause you saw it when I posted part of it on here!). After that I have one more prompt request I’m super excited to do and then I shall be switching Writing Wednesdays to Writing Updates Wednesdays so I’ll be back to updating my ongoing stories and you’ll all know when to look for them! :D Thank you all for your patience and kind words as I got everything all sorted out! :) :)

Bilba sat on the edge of her desk in her late father's study and tried to think of a single reason why she shouldn't kill the idiot dwarf that Gandalf had insisted she speak with.

So far, the only thing she could come up with was said wizard, who was currently standing near the door looking increasingly exasperated, might not like it.

That reason was becoming less and less of a deterrent with every word the idiot spoke.

As if he knew what she was thinking, the idiot heaved a sigh that was probably intended to be insulting, as if he hadn't already been doing that from the moment he walked through her front door. "Axe or sword?" he asked derisively. "What's your weapon of choice?"

Bilba allowed her lips to slowly curve into a slow smile. "Teeth."

The idiot, Thorin as Gandalf had introduced him, looked to her shoulder, where Mandar currently perched. The small, mottled brown dragon tilted his head and hissed at the obnoxious dwarf. His tail uncurled from where it had been loosely wrapped around Bilba's throat for balance and he started to move forward to stop when Bilba held up a hand.

The dwarf chuckled in derision. "Looks more like an oversized lizard." He turned his gaze on the wizard. "I was told the Shire held those who trained dragons, not exotic pets."

Bilba propped a foot on the edge of the chair the dwarf sat in, earning her an entertaining look of annoyance, and deliberately turned her attention to Mandar. "Did you hear that?" She retrieved a strip of dried meat from a pocket and held it up for the tiny creature to delicately take from her hand. "He thinks you're a pet."

That earned another hiss from Mandar, but he obediently curled back up across her shoulders and settled for glaring at the dwarven idiot.

The dwarf crossed his arms and his lips twisted. "This was a waste of time," he complained to the wizard. "We should never have come."

Bilba rose fluidly to her feet. "Then I suppose you should leave, Your Majesty." Her tone was purposefully mocking, and she could see by the glint in his eyes that he'd caught it. Honestly, the sheer audacity of his behavior when he'd come to her for help.

She went to her living room and dropped into her armchair set before a roaring fire in the fireplace. Heat from the flames soaked into her skin and she sighed, relaxed into the chair and lightly flexed her hands against the armrests in relief. Her head throbbed and she closed her eyes with a grimace.

Mandar carefully picked his way down to her lap and pushed up on his hind legs, bracing his front claws on her chest. Bilba could feel his face mere inches from hers and absently lifted a hand to scratch the small ridge between his eyes. "I'm all right. Having to deal with outsiders just gives me a headache."

Usually, the Thain dealt with them, on the rare occasion there were any to deal with. Living in Hobbiton, at the heart of the Shire, Bilba rarely ever had to see them, much less speak to them and she preferred it that way. She'd only agreed because Gandalf, an old friend who was soon to be an ex old friend, had asked her and had caught her in a generous mood.

She cracked her eyes open to mere slits as Gandalf sank into the armchair next to hers. "I'm not accustomed to being insulted in my own home, Wizard. He behaves as if I should be honored to be in his very presence."

Gandalf sighed, staring into the flames. "Thorin has been sorely tried this day, and his mood is foul."

"That's no excuse." Mandar chattered at the wizard, adding his own opinion, and Bilba put a hand on his back to settle him. "He should have better control.

Gandalf chuckled. "This from a Shireling?"

Bilba's eyes narrowed. "I'm not the one throwing my rank around. If the dwarf cannot master his own emotions, how can he expect to master anyone else?"

"At the moment he cannot," Gandalf admitted. "As his own lords have refused him the aid he needs to retake their home."

"Given his temperament, it's little surprise." Bilba grumbled.

Gandalf stayed still for several long minutes, studying the fire.”The share of treasure you would inherit is quite substantial,” he finally said. 

Mandar's head popped up, but Bilba remained silent, eyes on the flames. It was true that the Shire could use the gold. The fact the dwarf was so openly offensive proved the Shire's reputation had fallen of late and treasure would go far to rectify that, restore them to what they had once been.

But even so...

"Whatever gold there is has undoubtedly been contaminated by that worm." Bilba's lip curled in distaste. "It probably reeks with his stench." She frowned, remembering some of what Gandalf had told her. "Did you say the thing speaks?"

Gandalf nodded. "He does."

Bilba closed her eyes and dug the fingers of one hand into her temple. "A high dragon," she muttered. "I'd thought they were gone."

"He appears to be the last," Gandalf said but Bilba scoffed.

"You've no idea if that's true. Those in the Withered Heath clearly protected him, or were simply too terrified to give him up." She sighed. She'd always hated the speaking ones. Not only were they a pain to deal with, but they were forever prattling on about their own self-assumed importance. Bilba was quite certain they could bore someone to death just as easily as kill them with flame, tooth or claw.

"It isn't worth it," she decided. Having to deal with the dragon would be bad enough, but having to deal with a mouthy dragon and a petulant king-in-exile? No one should be made to endure that.  

A knock on her front door reverberated through her house, and Bilba ground her teeth together. Why had she agreed to host his entire Company again?

Oh, right. Gandalf. The wizard had been a friend of the Shire a very long time and had come to their aid on more than one occasion. Bilba couldn't remember him ever asking for a thing in return so when he'd come to her and requested she hear out this Thorin and host his company for a night she'd felt duty bound to agree.

Next time she'd send them to the Thain no matter what. He had little enough to do as it was. The Shire had no need of anything outside its own borders, and interaction with outsiders usually didn't make it much past a polite "thank you, but no."

She heard the heavy bootsteps of the dwarven idiot heading toward her door and then the loud chatter of far too many dwarves. "How many did you say again?"

Gandalf's look was far too innocent and Bilba grimaced. "You try my patience, Wizard."

"At least speak to them," Gandalf insisted. "You might find yourself surprised."

"I spoke to their representative," Bilba growled. "And I'm considering allowing Mandar to eat them."

In her lap, Mandar lifted his head and puffed out his chest. He was tiny, but motivated, and would do his very best to eat all the dwarves if she wished.

The idea was deeply tempting, but might also give Mandar indigestion so, instead, she stayed silent while Gandalf went to deal with her barely invited guests. She'd prepared food, because she had manners even if they did not, and could soon hear the clatter of dishes and cutlery. The thought she might end up with chipped or broken dishes had her curling her fingers back into the armrests again.

They were invaders, her mind informed her, bursting in and touching her things without permission, disrupting her quiet home with their obnoxious chatter. The insult from earlier rose back in her mind but now it made her even angrier, to think that anyone could feel they had the right to come into her home and disrespect her and...

Another knock sounded on her door and Bilba twitched.

There were more?

Just how many was she expected to put up with?

Mandar gave an unhappy peep as she lifted him and set him on her shoulder. She rose from the chair and headed toward the door, fire flickering in her eyes. She sensed the idiot and the wizard approaching and sped up, intending to reach her door before either of them could.

She was going to throw them all out, starting with the ones on her stoop. They could go on their stupid quest without her and, a few months from now, she'd enjoy hearing all about how Smaug had eaten them.

She reached the door steps before the dwarf or wizard, grabbed the handle and flung it open, still picturing all the horrible things that would happen to the idiots, and how utterly entertaining she'd find the retelling.

Granted, the downside would be Smaug becoming even more insufferable, meaning she'd probably have to deal with him at some point but, even so --

Her thoughts trailed off as her mind registered the dwarves standing on her steps. The first was young, dark haired and resembled the idiot far too much in her opinion. She shifted toward the second, planning to dismiss him as quickly as the first -- and her mind went utterly blank.

He was young and well built as most dwarves were, but that was where the similarity to other members of his race ended. Rather than the shades of brown, black or white hair she was used to seeing, this dwarf featured golden blond hair that settled about his shoulders and face. A beard and mustache of the same color covered his jaw, creating an almost halo like effect about him and, Yavanna, why had no one told her dwarves could look like that?

Did any others, or was he just an aberration?

He had to be an aberration. She'd seen dwarves. The Blue Mountains were right there. The snarky bastards were forever using the paths that skirted the Shire's boundaries to get from place to place. Bilba hated outsiders, rarely interacted with them, but she did enjoy walking the paths from time to time and had seen them over the years.  

She'd never seen one like this.

A low heat began to snake through her veins, leaving fire in its wake. Her heart began to pound and her breaths grew short.

Dimly, she felt Mandar slowly rise from her shoulder and, ever so carefully, begin to inch his way down her arm. He paused about halfway down, readied himself, and then leapt -- only to squawk in protest as she caught him around the middle with both hands.

The dwarves were talking...someone was talking at least, but she had no idea who or what they were saying over the roaring in her ears. She couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from the dwarf who stood on her doorstep.

On.

Her.

Doorstep.

In the open.

Where anyone might see him.

Where anyone might have already seen him.

Bilba let out a low hiss, transferred Mandar under her arm and then reached with the other to grab his sleeve and yank him in. It was full night outside, which meant everyone was probably inside, but all it would take was one night owl wanting to watch the stars and she'd end up with half of Hobbiton on her doorstep.

Mandar was complaining loudly under her arm and squirming to get out. Suddenly she felt his body puff up and looked down in time to see him throw his head back and open his mouth wide.

Quickly, she grabbed his jaws between her thumb and forefinger and pushed them closed. He glared at her, but she simply stepped fully inside the house and kicked the door closed.

When she turned back he was still there, as were the rest of the dwarves who'd apparently come out to greet the newcomers. It was the first time most of them, aside from the idiot and the wizard, had seen her and, as she continued to stand there holding Mandar, the chatter slowly died off until they were all staring at her.

Mandar was complaining, the sound muffled with her still holding his jaws closed, but the meaning clear enough.

"That what passes for a dragon in the Shire?" A balding, tattooed dwarf asked. Mandar hissed, not appreciating the insult and, normally, Bilba might have responded to it as well but her mind was still stuck on her recent revelation.  

"Apparently so," the idiot-in-exiled rumbled. "I don't believe she will be joining us, however." He crossed his arms and fixed her with a blank look. "We were unable to reach terms."

Bilba twitched, mind suddenly snapping back into focus. She smiled at him, broadly. "That was before I realized you were providing surety. I've changed my mind. I'll take the job."

The dwarf king's eyebrows narrowed in confusion. "Surety?"

Bilba settled Mandar back on her shoulder to sulk over the closed door and his lack of opposable thumbs, and pointed to the golden blond dwarf. "Him."

For a few seconds dead silence reigned in the small foyer.

Then bedlam, and Bilba found herself wishing she'd simply let Mandar eat them after all.

Well, almost all of them.

Mandar heartily agreed.

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