Disclaimer: The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings are owned by J.R.R. Tolkien, his family, New Line cinema, etc. No money is being made for this fic, which I have written solely for my own enjoyment (and hopefully yours, too).

Credit: www dot Tuckborough dot net

Smaug Lives!

Sam closed the gate behind him and trotted up the garden path to the round green door of Bag End, fingering the gift he had brought for Mr Bilbo.

He lifted a hand to knock at the door, then paused nervously. What if Mr Bilbo didn’t like it? A gentle-hobbit like him probably had far grander examples to be getting on with; he’d hardly need the sorry attempt whittled up by a twelve-year-old neighbour’s lad.

The thought of offending his gaffer’s employer with such a meagre offering made the lad step back. But just as he was about to turn and leave, the big green door opened and Mr Bilbo Baggins himself appeared, looking resplendent in a fine red weskit with shiny gold buttons. Sam closed his little fist around the humble treasure and shoved it behind his back, fervently hoping the older hobbit hadn’t seen it.

“Sam! Good morning, my lad!” exclaimed the kindly hobbit. “I didn’t expect to see you here today; Frodo doesn't return from his visit to Buckland until tomorrow, you know."

The youngster swallowed nervously. "I know that, Mr Bilbo, sir. It's you as I came to see."

"Is that right?" said Bilbo, looking mildly flustered. "I'm afraid you've caught me at a very bad time. I was just on my way out for a walk."

"Oh. Well, maybe I'll come back later then..."

Feeling more than a little relieved, he turned to leave, but Bilbo stopped him with a sudden question.

"It’s your birthday today, isn‘t it?”

Sam stopped, turned to face him, and nodded shyly.

“That’s what I thought,“ said Bilbo with a smile. “Then allow me to wish you the happiest of birthdays! Though I would have thought you might prefer to celebrate this magnificent occasion with your family, rather than visit your crusty old neighbour.”

Sam blushed. Mr Bilbo thought his birthday was a magnificent occasion?

“That’s right kind of you, Mr Bilbo, sir,” he said bashfully. “But it’s ’cos it’s my birthday that I come over, an’ all.”

Bilbo’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? Well, I hope you don’t think I expect you to trim my hedges on this of all days! You ought to be half-way through a nice big roast by now! Or full-way through an even bigger birthday cake! Apart from the generous slice you’ve saved for me, of course.”

Bilbo winked and Sam giggled, marvelling at the way in which Mr Bilbo always managed to put a person at their ease.

“I’ll make certain as you gets it afore Halfred eats the lot. But you’ll have to wait until my mum cuts it, if that’s all right, sir - an‘ she says as she won‘t do that afore dinner, case it ruins my appra … appar ... appat ...”

“Appetite?” supplied Bilbo helpfully when Sam struggled over the word. The youngster nodded in relief. “Very wise advice. All good things come to those who wait, in my experience, and as your mother’s baking is better than any I’ve ever tasted, it’s worth waiting all the longer for it! Now, my lad, if you‘re not come to trim the hedges, or supply one hungry old hobbit with a pre-walking treat, then what may I do for you?”

There was no avoiding it now - he’d have to give Mr Bilbo the gift and hope that he didn’t think it too shabby. Not that he’d show it if he did; Mr Bilbo was a gentle-hobbit after all. He’d no doubt accept it with a gracious smile, then be decent enough to store it in a drawer when Sam was out of sight.

Nervously, Sam pulled his right hand from behind his back and thrust it towards Bilbo.

“I brought you a birthday present Mr Bilbo, sir. I hope you don’t mind an’ all, only …”

He trailed off in embarrassment as heat flooded him from the neck up.

“… only I thought as you might like it. But it’s all right if’n you don’t, sir. It’s not so very grand, after all, so I won’t mind, honest. You can just stick it in a drawer, or something …”

“Stick your birthday present in a drawer?” cried Bilbo in mock horror. “Well perhaps I shall, if it’s a shiny new spoon. I could certainly do with some more! But you didn’t have to buy me a birthday present, my lad. You ought to save your money for something more important - like a sticky bun from the farmer’s market.”

“Oh, but I didn’t buy it, sir. I made it myself. Took me four weeks an’ all, ’cos it was so fiddly.”

He opened his fist and offered the bundle of cloth to his favourite neighbour.

“I had to wrap in a handkerchief, sir - I ran out of brown paper, you see. But the cloth is clean, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt it for a second, Sam,” said Bilbo with a little smile. He plucked the handkerchief and its contents from Sam’s fist and drew back the edges to reveal his birthday present. Sam watched anxiously as he inspected it.

It was a piece of wood, roughly twelve centimetres in length, with a flattened mouthpiece at one end, a long, curved stem, and an oddly shaped bowl at the other.

“A pipe?” guessed Bilbo.

Sam nodded tentatively, his eyes fixed on the older hobbit's face.

Bilbo held it up for closer inspection: the stem of the pipe was rather crudely carved, with many overlapping nicks in the wood. The bowl was painted a bright green colour with two yellow slits, one at each side. The opening of the bowl itself appeared to be some sort of great mouth caught in a very wide yawn.

Suddenly, the gentle-hobbit threw back his head and laughed. It startled Sam so much that he jumped.

“Smaug! You’ve carved me Smaug the dragon! The bowl is his head, the stem his body, and the mouthpiece his tail!”

Relief flooded the hobbit-lad at Bilbo’s obvious delight.

“Yes, sir. I thought as you might like it, what with having been on that grand adventure of yours.”

“Like it? Oh, my dear Sam, I do a lot more than simply like it. It is quite the best birthday present I have had all year!” exclaimed Bilbo with a chuckle. “Who would ever have thought that the old dragon would live to blow fire and smoke once more? And on such a harmless scale at that!”

Bilbo fingered the crude pipe fondly, then turned his bright blue gaze on Sam. His voice was slightly rough with emotion.

“What a very thoughtful gift to have given, Sam. And made by your own hands, too. I am quite touched. Quite, quite touched. And let me assure you of this;” Bilbo slipped the pipe into his weskit pocket and patted it firmly, “my new birthday present is a gift I shall treasure all the more for the thought and effort you put into making it. What's more, it will be far too busy shocking the neighbours to ever see the inside of any drawer in my house.”

He reached out and offered Sam his handkerchief back. Sam accepted it with a huge smile.

“I thought as you might like that part too, sir,” he said happily.

“Oh, I shall like that part very much. I might even take a little detour to Hardbottle and see if I can’t start putting it to good use this very afternoon! What do you say to that, Sam?”

Sam laughed. “I’d say as you’ll be hungry when you get back from Mistress Lobelia’s, Mr Bilbo, sir! So I’d better make certain that slice of birthday cake is waiting for you!”

And with that, a very pleased Sam turned, threw a cheery wave behind him, and made his way back home, leaving the chucking Master of Bag End to enjoy the delightful prospect of tormenting one cantankerous old dragon with another …

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Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed!

Addendum to A/N: You can now hear this fic on YouTube, if such a thing grabs your fancy. Just search under the story title Smaug Lives! Though, be warned, I'm not the best narrator in the world, and the only picture you'll see in the video is a rather dismal one of my living room telly ...

Kara's Aunty :)