Written for the weekly prompt of the 'live-love-write' group on deviantart, "Desolation Comes Upon the Sky". It reminded me of dragons, and so I couldn't resist writing a piece about Smaug destroying Dale. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Smaug is a character created by brilliant J.R.R. Tolkien.
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The wind blows strong and cold on my wings, soothing in the way only it can be and lifting me even higher up in the air. Higher, always higher, and never high enough. I close my eyes for just a second, letting myself enjoy the moment. I can feel my power surging inside me, wild, rough and untamed. If my muscle structure allowed me to smile, I'd be grinning at the prospect of liberating it and letting all the joy that was stacking inside me out. Of showing what I, the greatest calamity of the age, felt and could do. However I'm a dragon, and such a thing is impossible.
I look down onto the human town below me and scan it. It shines bright, and if it wasn't for the screams of sheer terror that reach me I would have been certain that it was at complete peace. It would be like that soon enough too, as soon as the plague of humans that infested it were gone. A pest: that's all they are. A pest that gets everywhere, overconfident and cruel. Doing whatever they want and completely unknowing of the degree to which they are one of the weakest things in existence.
As I start descending upon the town I roar, and listen in delight as the shrieks become louder. I am fire. I am death. There is no escaping, not for anyone, and certainly not for the pest of humans within the town's walls. Not before, not now or not in the future. I look briefly to the side, and spot the dwarven kingdom which was the real reason for my presence here. I would get to that other useless race as soon as the humans have been dealt with.
I breathe in and prepare my fire, wild and hot, and I spit it out once I'm close enough to the town. It is relaxing, in a way. Towers fall onto the streets as I fly close to the town, and I would have laughed if I could as arrows shot by the humans bounce against my scales. I can hear their shouts, calling for bravery and for my defeat. They are accompanied by many other shouts and screams, as well with the unique sound of the destruction of a city. I start breathing in again, ready to spit dragonfire again, and as I do this the indistinguishable and particular smell of burnt flesh reaches my nostrils. Yes, I would be definitely grinning if my muscle structure allowed for it.
I am fire, I am death. I am the desolation that comes from the sky and is impossible to stop.
I breathe out more fire. Soon enough the city will be calm again.