Dragon Changer (a Hobbit fanfic)

Treasure and a bit of help from Radagast

"Ugh, what's that stench?"

Stretch was right. If I ever hated my overly sensitive nose, now was the time.

The reason everything smelled so bad was because we were in a Troll hoard. Judging by the smell and amount of treasure inside the cave, the Trolls had certain stayed there for a while.

"Be careful what you touch." Gandalf warned the dwarves.

We had been at the entrance before but as we walked father in, the smell became tolerable. Many of the dwarves were examining the treasure, with secret plans to stash it all already forming in their heads. Thorin, Gandalf and I walked deeper until we came upon a weapon barrel. Several swords, either Troll made or not, lay inside. Two really nice ones caught my eye so I made my way over too them.

Recognizing the blades as Elvish, I took them and handed one to Thorin and the other to Gandalf. Thorin gave me an odd look, probably wondering why I wasn't taking the blade myself. But I would not trade my sword for anything.

"These swords were not made by any Troll." Thorin remarked as he examined his.

"Nor were they made by any smith among Men." Said Gandalf. He opened his slowly. "These were forged in Gondolin," he said, looking shocked. "By the High Elves of the First Age."

At the word Elves, Thorin looked at his in disgust. He made to put it back before Gandalf stopped him. "You could not wish for a finer blade." At that, Thorin ripped his open and examined the still sharp and very shiny blade more closely. Soon he decided to keep it and headed out of the cave along with most of the other dwarves and I. Gandalf stayed behind.

As we got out of cave, breathing deeply in the fresh air, Thorin turned to me. "Why did you hand that sword to me rather than keep it for yourself?" He asked suspiciously.

"Because I already have the best blade in the world." I said. Upon his curious glance, I unsheathed my sword. It glinted blue in the sunlight. "Dragon scale. Fire proof and fitted with a magical grip so it comes when called."

Speechless, Thorin stared at it. Finally, he managed to get out the word "how."

"With the help of an Elf, a Wizard to forage it. The scales themselves I had to find from the lair of a messy dragon." I smirked in my head. Actually the scales came from me during one of my shedding seasons. They happen so often that dragon scales wouldn't be rare at all if we didn't normally eat them after ward. But I had saved these and Gandalf had convinced one of the Elf smiths at the last homely house to forage it for me.

Staring at my blade still, Thorin spoke quickly. "Never ever loose this blade." As all good craftsmen normally are around my blade, he seemed smitten with it. I replied, "wouldn't dream of it." Dragon scale blades were incredibly unique. And mine was definitely special.

A sudden noise in the trees put us all on guard. "Somethings coming!" Thorin shouted as a warning.

"Stay together!" Gandalf instructed. "Hurry now! Arm yourselves!"

Pulling out my sword all the way, I stood in a ready to spring pose. I was ready for anything. Except for a Radagast on a rabbit sled shouting "thieves! Fire! Murder!" I don't think I was ready for that.

"Radagast." Gandalf said in relief as he went to go meet him. "Radagast the brown." I relaxed. Even though he was shouting about some very terrible things, it was just like Radagast to be a bit paranoid. "What on Earth are you doing here?" Gandalf asked.

"I was looking for you Gandalf. Something's wrong. Somethings terribly wrong." Radagast replied.

With a worried look on his face, Gandalf hesitantly asked "yes?"

Taking a deep breath to talk, Radagast stayed that way for a while. He had lost his train of thought, I could already tell. Judging from the time I've spent talking to him, I could tell it happened quite often. "Just give me a minute." He said, looking puzzled. "Oh. I had a thought and now I've lost it. It was right there on the tip of my tongue."

"Oh." He exclaimed surprised. "It's not a thought at all. It's a silly old stick insect." I shook my head. Same old Radagast.

Gandalf took Radagast aside to talk to him, Wizard to Wizard. Most of the dwarves seemed disgruntled at our sudden stop of movement and had sat down to polish their weapons or pass the time in other ways. I walked over and pet the giant rabbits. They were quite fluffy.

Suddenly, a loud howl filled the air. "Was that a wolf? Are there wolves out there?" Bilbo asked.

"Wolves?" Bofur said. "No, that is not a wolf." Growling came from behind as a Warg jumped unexpectedly down the slope. Luckily it was taken down by Thorin before it could bit anyone. Another one came from the opposite direction but Kili shot it before it could do anything. Dealing finished it off.

"Warg scouts." Thorin exclaimed as he ripped the sword from the dead Warg body. "Which means an Orcs pack is not far behind."

Quickly Gandalf questioned Thorin if he told anyone of his quest. Thorin said that he didn't. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"You are being hunted." Gandalf replies. We discuss our opinions hurriedly. Our ponies have bolted (even Firestorm but I know he'll go back to our house later) and Wargs can run faster then we can.

"I'll draw them off." Radagast volunteers.

"These are Gundabad Wargs. They will outrun you." Gandalf says.

Smirking ever so slightly, Radagast replies with "these are Rhosgobel rabbits. I'd like to see them try."

And so begins our cross country run. While Radagast distracts our pursuers, we run across the land, keeping just out of sight of the Orcs.

But half way through, an Orc strays from the pack. We kill it but a loud scream from both Orc and Warg scout alerts them to our position. It was then a race to the finish.

Eventually, the Orcs surround us. The dwarves look to Gandalf for help only to find he's nowhere near. Quickly they assume he's abandoned them. But I recognize the rock he has lead us to. The secret passage that leads underneath these plains goes to Rivendell. I sigh as I realize Gandalf's plan.

He appears again from the passage and motions to the dwarves to join him. Hoping its some escape route, many of them jump in eagerly. I, however, wait outside. There's no going back once I go in. Eventually though, most of the dwarves are in and Thorin, who has decided to be last, motions for me to jump in. So I do, not knowing which option, staying with the Orcs or meeting judging elves,I fear most.