Author's Note – Written for a writerverse challenge – to write from the villain's point of view. Part of my main Hobbit-verse. See my profile for reading order.
The Dragon's Fury
How dare they! How dare they!
Do they think I would be so weak as to be affected by their molten gold?
He breathed fire!
He was fire!
He was death!
Smaug fought to shake off the last of the liquid gold coating his scales and wings as he clawed for air. This handful of insignificant Dwarves, the last remnant of a forsaken Race thought to destroy him? What pathetic fools! He would sear the very flesh from their bones.
First things first, however. The flimsy excuse for a town those Men built on their little lake. They thought the water would keep them safe, but he would prove them wrong. For so many years he had ignored them, allowing them to scuttle about like ants – little stings that meant nothing more than minor annoyances to one of his age. How had they repaid him for his forbearance? By aiding the enemy!
He should have destroyed them when they first began to build!
Well, now he would leave none alive. No descendants would remain to become an enemy in the future. Their town would burn and their lake would boil and they would become a memory spoken in whispers for fear of drawing equal devastation. He would not be mocked!
And the Greenwood?
Thranduil sat too comfortable on his throne. These Dwarves came through his forest to the lake. He too would pay for his foolishness. If the Dark One's spiders could not do the work, then Smaug himself would handle things. The trees would burn! They would burn – root and branch. Smoke from the burning fire would be seen for miles and be a reminder to all Peoples.
One does not interfere with Smaug, great fire drake of the North.
Then, when the Men and the Elves were destroyed and routed, then would Smaug return to the mountain and his treasure.
Then he would feast upon the last of Durin's sons.
Then he would sink his claws into the odd little thief and tear him apart.
"I am Fire."
"I am…Death."