I do not own anything! it all belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien! Happy birthday to J.R.R. Tolkien! This chapter is dedicated to him!

Ch.1

"Smaug!" A long, black, wingless dragon came hurtling through the dry, open grassland of Angband.
"What is it Scatha? Another Warg bite your tail?" Smaug replied. Scatha slid to a stop and started whipping his tail back and forth.
"Very funny Smaug. I was just letting you know I spotted Gostir again on the other side of the Iron Mountains." Scatha said. Smaug considered this and shook his head, "He was snacking on a bunch of lost Orcs" Scatha continued.
"I will go check this out myself." Smaug bunched his muscles and launched into the air, feeling satisfied as his wings stretched to catch the air. He his small for his age of 400, but his is considered a Nimbin Anlug (small dragon) and won't be full grown until he is 500.
Ever since the War of Wrath when Ancalagon the Black was killed, Gostir was driven mad and stared going on a rage where nothing stands in his path. He is centuries old and can not breath fire because he is a common Cold-Drake.
Smaug easily spotted the white dragon with ice blue scales and no wings as he climbed up the grey/ black sides of the Iron Mountains. Smaug also spotted the pile of Orc bones that Gostir must have been snacking on.
"GOSTIR!" Smaug roared and breathed fire into the evening sky. Gostir the White opened his mouth like he was breathing fire but nothing came out. Smaug flew in closer and breathed fire on Gostir's tail turning it charred black. Gostir yelped lashed out but missed Smaug. Smaug started to swoop in for another breath of fire.
"Get out of here Fire-Drake! Angband is mine for the taking!" Gostir roared at Smaug. Gostir jumped off the cliff and grabbed the base of Smaug's tail. Smaug roared and folded his wings to dive toward the ground. Gostir swung his body to off balance Smaug and sent them both tumbling toward the ground at rapid speed. Gostir's years off war and fighting practice is a formidable opponent for young Smaug who flapped frantically to catch the air.
They both hit the grassy ground hard and Gostir the White released Smaug as they hit the ground. Smaug rolled on the grass gouging deep cuts in the soft dirt as he lashed out to try and stop. He hit something hard and scrambled to his feet. Scatha stood in front of Smaug, flaring his moveable spines. Gostir was still tumbling on the ground and roaring loudly.
"Let's get out of here!" Scatha hissed. The sun was just beginning to set as they made their way back through the only gap in the middle of the Iron Mountains, The Gates of Angband. It's only half mile wide, and fallows a winding, steep, and dangerous (if the dragons doesn't have wings like Scatha) path. It use to be underground but collapsed in the War of Wrath. At one point Scatha slipped and yelped with surprise, but Smaug helped steady him.
Night came from the death of the sun, covering the land in a dark blanket. Stars dotted the sky and a full moon hung on a thread of darkness. A howl echoed through the land as Smaug and Scatha reached their camp, which was just a few miles east of the Pass.
"Werewolves will be out tonight." Smaug growled. He lit a small fire in the grass.
"We will have to watch our backs tonight" Scatha said. "I will take first watch" with that he jumped up onto a big boulder a few yards from camp.
Smaug curled up, bringing his tail around his body, and covered his body using his giant wings. Smaug breathed more fire onto the little grass fire next to him, and soon fell asleep.

"Wake up Smaug!" Smaug woke to a claw prodding his exposed neck. He opened his golden eyes which were flaked with green and looked up at Scatha standing over him. The thin, four legged, black dragon stood over Smaug staring at him with yellow eyes.
"Your turn for watch" Scatha hissed, flaring the spines that start at the tip of his nose and fallow his spine till the tip of his tail. Scatha could breath fire but only for a few seconds and it wasn't very hot flames.
Smaug unfurled his wings and stretched them far as he can. Smaug only has 2 hind legs and uses his wings as for-legs. He shot some flames at Scatha for the fun of it to made him yelp.
"Not funny Smaug" Scatha said but Smaug could see the laughter in his eyes as Scatha curled up like a cat to sleep.
Smaug glided to the look out rock and listened to the howl of the Werewolves as he stared at the full moon hanging by its thread of darkness and stars.
My father is one of those stars way up in the Darkness. Smug thought Ancalagon the Black. My father and dear friend of Gostir...He trailed off as a howl sliced though the crisp, cold, night air. Werewolves never came past the Iron Mountains, but they do come close. These mountains have a bad history. Morgoth had his strong hold here called Thangorodrim, which was destroy by the slaying of Ancalagon the Black. Smaug remembered that day, the day the mountains fell under the crushing weight of Ancalagon. Smaug was only a baby only about 150 years old.
"Smaug run! Run and never come back!" Ancalagon roared at Smaug as the battle raged on around them.
"I can't leave you!" Smaug cried.
"Just go!" Ancalagon hissed and breathed fire at his son. Smaug yelped and took to the sky shivering from pure fear and dread. A howl ended his flashback.
Smaug's watch ended as soon as the sun came up. When the sun did rise the howling stopped, and Scatha stood and stretched each leg one by one.
"What is your plan for the day, Scatha?" Smaug asked as he glided down toward camp. Scatha finished stretching and turned to face Smaug.
"I'm thinking of going to the Blue Mountains. Remember I told you I saw dragon sign? I feel I should check again." Scatha said.
"While you do that, I will go Beleriand and hunt for food." Smaug said glancing at the Iron Mountains.
"See you later" Scatha said as he slithered away keeping low in the grass.
Smaug took to the sky and headed toward Beleriand. But first a quick stop along the way. A stop that Smaug must go and see again. Next to the Gates of Angband, where Thangorodrim use to be was a skull of a dragon. It sat on the ground like a lost iceberg, shining silverish white in the dawn sun light. It was massive, almost as tall as the mountains themselves. It was the skull of his father, Ancalagon.

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~Smaug