Chapter One

A brisk morning breeze filled the sails and propelled the elegant, swan-prowed vessel over the choppy green sea. Since the previous evening, it ploughed the waves ever westwards towards Valinor, the Undying Land of the elves, that was to be their destination. The majority of the elves of Middle Earth had already departed for the ancestral homeland, but this one also carried the renowned wizard, Gandalf the White, his faithful stallion Shadowfax, and as bearers of the One Ring, two famous hobbits had also been accorded the rare honor of accompanying them on one of the last ships to depart.

Rising before any of the other passengers, Frodo perched on the stern railing, and watched the craggy peaks of the Gray Banks, and the tallest spires of the elven port city of Mithlon finally disappear over the horizon as the golden morning Sun rose and briefly illuminated them. With quill in hand, the young hobbit jotted down his first impressions of the beginnings of his next grand adventure. He mused that if possible, he would someday return to The Shire, to have a reunion with his friends, Pippin. Merry and Sam, and in the last unfilled pages of the great, leather-bound red book that he had left in their care, add yet another addition to the tales begun by his uncle Bilbo, and which he amended when he chronicled the events of the great War of the Ring, in which he played so prominent a role.

As he carefully put ink to parchment, out of the corner of his eye, Frodo glimpsed what might have been the head of a large fish or even a whale breech the surface and sink quickly back into the depths. He looked to the few crew on deck for some acknowledgment of seeing it too, but they seemed not to notice or care and he was wont to bother them with something probably so trifling to seasoned elvish sailors. But for him, he had never seen a great whale-fish, and if that was what he saw, he hoped it would come closer so he could have a good view, and make a sketch of it for the journal as well.

Another hour went by and now there was only water to be seen on every horizon. What Frodo had first took to be the head of a whale-fish was occasionally glimpsed, but only for a few seconds before sinking again into the sea. It seemed to keep pace with the ship, but always the same distance away and too far away to get a good look at it. By now, there was more activity on deck as passengers emerged from their below deck berths to take in the crisp morning air. The great wizard, Gandalf the White, was now on deck speaking to the elvish nobles and ship's officers gathered at the prow. Frodo was loath to distract him as he seemed engaged in some important conversation, but when the wizard made eye contact with the young hobbit, he politely excused himself and strode back to greet him.

Frodo happily beamed, "Good morning Gandalf, I believe there is a whale-fish following us! I thought I saw its head surface ..."

Frodo stopped mid-sentence as an ominous cracking sound erupted deep below deck, and in the same instant a massive jolt lifted the ship and knocked everyone to their knees or buttocks. An elvish sailor working high in the rigging was thrown from the impact into the sea. Then there was an ear-piercing screech as something hard forced its way through the hull, and with a splintering crunch, a great spike, as thick around as a dwarven ale barrel, erupted from the top deck almost below Gandalf, splintering planks and hurling him into the air and over the side. Releasing his staff, he grabbed the railing with both hands, and hung against the hull, the cold sea biting at his ankles.

Towering taller than a cave troll, it could be seen that the ugly spike was once the tip of a huge tree, shorn of branches, and roughly hewn, perhaps even gnawed by the looks of it, to a sharp point and it was black, as if charred and hardened by fire. With no enemy in sight, it seemed that the ship somehow struck the submerged object, so instead of grabbing weapons, the first concern was to save those that may be trapped below. Frodo leaped to the ship's side to help Gandalf back aboard, but the wizard looked him in the eye and said "I am fine. Seek out your uncle Bilbo, for I left him still asleep in his cabin.". Frodo left him and hastened to an open hatch, as did others in the pandemonium. There was a lifeboat on deck, which the great spike of wood would have also impaled if it had been only a few paces further astern. Several sailors were at work untying and turning it over, when the black spike suddenly took on a life of its own. Screeching again as heavy wood grated together, it move a little one way and then the next as it slowly withdrew below the shattered deck. If the disaster were not frightening enough, it was now apparent this was no accident and some great power was in control of the unlikely weapon.

At the same moment, Frodo grabbed his uncle Bilbo by his night shirt, shouting "Uncle, you must get out of here, the ship is sinking". The elderly hobbit was already awakened by the spike crashing through the hull, and was rifling through his traveling trunk to save some important items. The spike had pierced the hull quite near the berth, and unnaturally began to twist back and forth and recede back into the sea as though controlled by some huge being with the strength to wield it. Grating wood squealed, and fountains of water were erupting from cracks in the ruined hull. Frodo instantly saw the danger of what would happen when the great log were pulled all the way out, not even imagining yet what could be making it move. Shouting above the din of screams and rushing water, the young hobbit exclaimed, "No time now, Uncle", and grabbed Bilbo's arm, put it about his neck, and brought him on deck, an instant before the great spike pulled completely out, and the water came flooding in.

Gandalf had now climbed back on deck and was sprinting towards the forward cargo hatch, where his beloved stallion, Shadowfax, had been secured in the hold. The White Wizard had promised his sapient equine companion that they would never be parted again, and so was allowed to take his friend and mount to the Undying Lands. While the great horse had to be winched down into the hold by crane, there was no way to take him out. In this case, it was fortunate that the hull filled so fast with water, for being a powerful swimmer, the stallion rose with the rising water until it swept over the deck, and with flailing hooves scrambled upon it, only seconds after Gandalf lifted the heavy hatch. "Leap fast and far old friend, lest you be sucked down with the ship, and then swim to the lifeboat." Being a Mearas horse, in fact the very chief of this unique race, Shadowfax understood human speech and complied. Gandalf knew others were still trapped below deck, but nothing could be done now, and he sprinted for the small boat as the cold water swept over his feet.

It was unlikely a ship could ever be sunk so quickly and nary without a trace as this one had, which seemed to be exactly the intention of the yet unknown force responsible. With such a massive hole left with the exiting of the spike, in a few scant minutes the sea swept over the top deck, just as the lifeboat was righted and filled with passengers. Few yet were even very wet, save for Gandalf, and the elvish sailor knocked into the sea and now missing. Others were still trapped below deck when disaster struck, though none but Bilbo had been rescued before the ship so rapidly sunk.

Eleven souls were safely aboard the small boat, all elves, save for Gandalf and the two hobbits. None had time to grab weapons, save for the small belt knives that the sailors carried, and Gandalf himself, was without his white staff, flung from his hand when he was nearly thrown overboard and now nowhere to be seen. Gandalf coaxed the frightened stallion to the boat, and with powerful arms that belied his elderly appearance, held Shadowfax mane up by his front hooves and encouraged him to keep air in his lungs so not to sink. No enemy was yet in view, and spirited discussions raged in the crowded little craft as to what caused the spike to pierce their ship. Then a sailor first saw it off the stern, shouting and pointing in alarm.

Beneath a flurry of bubbles, a menacingly-large shape of a living creature rose amongst the roiling foam. Suddenly the grim visage of what could only be an immense red-gold fire drake erupted from the swirling green water, both terrible and beautiful at the same time. Gouts of steam puffed from pulsing nostrils in the cold morning air, and even more wafted from half-open jaws that bore an array of wickedly-sharp teeth the color of old ivory and some as long as Sting, Bilbo's elvish short sword. While some in the small craft screamed at the rising apparition, a similar wail startlingly erupted from the depths of the dark throat behind the gleaming teeth, ending abruptly as the huge head seemed to nod, and with an ominous gulping sound, a wiggling bulge the size of a man, (or elvish sailor to be exact), rolled smoothly down the inside of the long, serpentine neck for all to see. Then the leering head cocked to one side and a piercing eye, the color of molten gold, bore down on the trapped, near helpless survivors. The beast then spoke, a deep inhuman voice all too familiar, (and terrifying, too), to Bilbo Baggins, even after so many years.

"My, my, my...what an extraordinary catch of fish I have made on the deep green sea this fine morning. In one stroke I seem to have bagged most, if not all of the still living conspirators who had so callously plotted my assassination, though I have never done them any harm. I see we have the noble Lady Galadriel, as beautiful as ever, and the Lordly Elrond, Master of Rivendell, hmm? I knew if I fished these waters long enough I would catch the responsible elves at least, among the many of shiploads of your race that have come this same way on their great migration these past years, and have thus filled my belly." (And he paused to smack his scaly lips and rolled his long pink tongue over the sharp spikes of his teeth). But what luck, I seem to have also netted the conniving wizard, Gandalf the Grey, no, the White, is it now?" Then the great head turned to Shadowfax, "And what's this, a nice plump horse? Could you have been expecting me all along, and this is a peace offering, in hopes of making up for your base treachery nearly a century ago?"

Under other circumstances, even the most powerful dragon of the age would have had a healthy respect for the three most powerful, still-living mages in all of Middle Earth, and bearers of Rings of Power besides, as Smaug could plainly see shining on their fingers but deigned to show too much interest in them. But dragons can sense magic, and this one knew that the power of the rings they bore was much diminished, while his abilities were never stronger. The three ring-bearers could sense it as well, for the dragon was virtually bursting with spiritual energy, seemingly impossible power for a single living being, no matter how large. Though they knew they were virtually powerless before the beast, Gandalf gambled that he might bluff the fire drake into retreating. Standing up in the prow, and raising an open hand towards the beast, (for his staff was nowhere to be seen), Gandalf shouted as authoritively as any wizard could hope to do, "Begone now, Dragon if you value your life! I warn thee that there is more power among this group than you can possibly imagine for we are the bearers of Narya, Nenya, and Vilya, the Three Rings of Power given to the elves! Now return to the depths from whence you came!"

The beast's scaly lips turned upwards into what might have been a gloating grin, and a great paw with wicked black talons, as sharp and as large as scythes emerged from the water to scratch the scaly chin, as if mocking a human pondering a difficult question. "Hmm, more power than I can possibly imagine, really now? If that were true, old wizard, then I am no more than a blue-bellied fence lizard", the dragon contemptuously retorted. "I know well the rings which you and the two highborn elves bear, but can also sense that with the destruction of the One Ring, these have lost their powers and are now mere baubles, just as the Rings of Power which I have acquired. How does it go, one ring to rule them all, is it not?". With a talon, Smaug then touched a thin, but strongly wrought chain of mithril metal that coiled around the base of his neck where there were strung three rings, appearing far tinier than they really were against the massive reptile. "Why lo and behold, for it seems we are evenly matched in useless Rings of Power, for I possess two of The Seven, taken from Dwarves long ago and believed destroyed, and a very recent acquisition – one of The Nine once given to men. It was taken from a Wraith which I had slain at Mount Doom so a certain young hobbit, yes, the very one sitting in your boat, by the smell of him, could destroy the One Ring, and with it Sauron as well, hmmm?" The dragon paused in delight to register the expressions of astonishment on the faces of the small boat's occupants, and then continued. "Oh yes, I was indeed at Mount Doom that day, peering down from the volcano's rim. I saw the One Ring consumed in the fires with my own eyes, and watched the Eye of Sauron fall, before I slipped away undetected in the smoke and fire of the exploding mountain. Who else do you think destroyed the strongly placed guard there, so the young hobbit could complete his task? Or do you really think the brilliant and cunning Sauron would not leave just one of the Nazgul, and a strong detachment of orcs besides, to guard the single place in the wide, wide world where the One Ring could be destroyed? Of course he would and did! This is why your whole plan was mad to begin with, Old Wizard. Imagine, sending a pair of mere hobbits against the largest army ever fielded. A fool's errand to be sure if it were not for Smaug the Magnificent to save the day. Fools! Sauron outnumbered your forces already, ten to one, so why would the only possible method to destroy him be left unguarded? What I didn't eat of the guardians, I threw into the fire, and then retreated to my perch above, as the hobbits slowing ambled up the mountainside. And that was not the first time I saved your Fellowship either. Oh no, I was along much of the way, always in the shadows, destroying other perils you were not even aware of, to insure the One Ring would be destroyed, but all the while never revealing that I still lived – so I might continue waylaying elvish ships much like you witnessed today."

With really nothing to lose, and angered by the beast's self-aggrandizing, Gandalf scoffed, "Since when have dragons, and most of all, Smaug the Scourge, done anything to help the civilized races of elf, dwarf and man? If we indeed discussed the possiblity to make an end of you, as you seem to think, then it was with good cause, for you are nothing but a greedy and cruel monster, and all believed you would have sided with Sauron in the war we knew was coming."

Feigning indignation, Smaug brought a paw to his chest, and mockingly replied, "A scourge am I? I am hurt, truly hurt by such unkind words, and your belief I would willingly support Sauron in the late war. Perhaps I would have been forced to do so, if he regained possession of the One Ring, I cannot say for sure. But this old dragon laid his plans long, long ago, and thought of everything. I tricked you all, White Council and Sauron alike, both sides believing I was dead, dead, dead and gone. But this was not the case at all, at all, as you can plainly see. Quite the contrary, after concocting my mock demise, I just sat back to watch both sides in the conflict kill each other by the hundreds of thousands, saving me the time and trouble to do so later. All I needed was an inept band of dwarves and your gullible hobbit burglar to set my plan in motion, foolish old wizard! I have won, won, won, largely thanks to the stupidity of the very scoundrels now sitting helplessly in this little boat, who once so arrogantly plotted the death of a dragon who had done none of them harm – the very dragon that in the end was your most valuable ally though you never knew it. It was I that used you to rid the world of Sauron and the One Ring, the one power on all the earth that might have vexed me. And you three Ringbearers, the last three in all the world with a chance of opposing me, are now trapped, trapped, trapped like rats, in the middle of the cold, deep sea, in a tiny craft I could capsize with a sneeze. And think well on this, if I wanted to kill you all, I would have already incinerated you with dragon-fire the instant I arose from the sea. No, I am not here to mindlessly slaughter, but to only seek honest justice against those who have wronged me. Now stand down and behave as I come closer, for I mean to get a better look at you."

The talking apparition moved closer, as if the carved, dragon-prowed head of an impossibly large sea raider's ship were about to ram them, yet stopped just short of collision. If the small craft had been filled with mere men, and not elvish lords and a great wizard, they would have likely leaped from the vessel in terror, only to drown in the cold water. But all here were made of sterner stuff, even the two hobbits who had survived many dangerous situations in their previous adventures, and one of them, of course, Bilbo Baggins to be exact, had even faced the very same dragon all alone, many years past. While their present predicament was indeed dire, it was not altogether hopeless, for Smaug the Magnificent – (and there was no denying it was indeed him, despite the popular belief he had died some eighty years previously), seemed to be in a relatively cheerful and amiable mood, given his apparent triumph. It was clear to all that the beast could have destroyed them with a mighty blast of dragon fire, if he had wanted to, but instead wished to converse with them - or at least crow on to them on how clever he was. The only chance of surviving this ordeal would be to indulge the vain monster until a plan could be developed. And besides, all were indeed curious to learn how this dragon had somehow cheated death at Lake Town, how the War of the Ring would have been lost without his help, as he claimed, and most of all, if it were really true he had sunk and devoured the literally thousands of elves that had already departed Middle Earth for their Undying Lands over the many years when all believed he was dead and gone.

Now right above them, the dripping snout dangerously descended, and sucking nostrils inhaled deeply right in front of the terrified Bilbo, pulling his tousled grey hair towards the twin dark orifices. Then the toothy maw opened, and a gust of hot, rank-smelling, steamy breath blasted them all, as the great fire drake deliberately exhaled on them. The deep voice resonated, "Ah, I never forget a scent, for the old hobbit now pissing his trousers must be none other than my old acquaintance, the Ring Bearer, Bear-friend, Barrel-rider, and Burglar, Mister Bilbo Baggins Esquire of Bag End, yesss?"

The terrified hobbit did not answer, but sat with his eyes tightly closed hoping that it was a nightmare that might go away. Gandalf gave Bilbo a hidden nudge, and whispered, "Speak to him Bilbo, or he may simply kill us all."

Smaug overheard this, and imperiously addressed Gandalf, "Silence, old white-beard, you speak only when spoken to in the presence of a dragon, or I can stifle your talk, and even hold you in place as I please. Oh, and you needn't bother summoning your eagle friends, for I sense you are pondering this, though they cannot save you this time. You surely must know that I took care to sink the swan ship too far out at sea for them to reach and ever return alive. It is not that I fear those birds, not at all, but I usually eat what I kill and I am not in the mood for roast fowl today, then he paused, and added ominously, "nor may my belly have room enough for them - as I may indulge in other prey this day, hmm?. And haven't those poor eagles sacrificed enough of their lives already, in fighting the battles of you treacherous and conniving talking apes?"

Both of the Elf-lords and Gandalf attempted to protest the insult, but to their astonishment they could not move or speak, but were pinned in place by some invisible power. Gandalf experienced this before when Saruman overpowered him with magic in his tower, only he sensed this power was even stronger. "Yesss, you can feel it, can't you?" Smaug hissed in triumphant delight. "I am strong, strong, strong! Never have I been as powerful as I am today, and do you want to know why? No, I shall let you ponder on that awhile for I now wish to speak to my old acquaintance, the burglar Mister Bilbo Baggins who played his part so perfectly in my little charade". The scaly snout then pointed towards Bilbo and he hissed, "Well, thief, what have you to say for yourself?"

The older hobbit mustered his courage, opened his eyes and shakily spoke. "Y-y-yes indeed Sir, Your Preeminence, Oh Mighty Smaug, your memory and sense of smell are remarkable as one would expect from so grand a dragon as yourself." He then stood up in the rocking boat, made a deep bow and announced, "Bilbo Baggins at your service milord, and genuinely happy to see that reports of your untimely death seem to have been, er, greatly exaggerated...unless of course, y-you are a ghost now, for it has been reliably reported, I understand, that y-your very b-bones and scales too, can still be seen, deep down in the water amongst the charred timbers where Lake Town once stood."

To this, Smaug snorted a gush of hot steam from his nostrils and had a great laugh, mercifully reeling back somewhat, where his odious breath would not be so noxious, but always keeping a watchful, glittering eye on the little boat's every occupant. To Gandalf's great dismay, one of the dragon's forelimbs now emerged from the water, sharp talons gripping his own lost staff and potent weapon of magic. Like a man with a toothpick, the beast casually took the artifact's bottom end into his jaws, fishing around his back teeth with it until he extricated a sodden, drool-drenched, mass of cloth – obviously the cloak of the ill-fated sailor-come- dragon- fodder they had all watched him swallow in horror. Eying a shining mithril brooch still pinned to it, he deftly plucked it off with two claws that seemed far too large and awkward for the task, opened his jaws wide, and tossed the beautiful elvish trinket it into his deep, dark throat, not bothering to even swallow so small an object. He then irreverently dropped the slime-tainted heap of wet wool into the lap of the immaculately dressed, white-clad Galadriel. Looking back to Bilbo he said, "Ah, at least one of you know how to respectfully address a dragon, though I suspect it is not altogether sincere, hmm? But no, little thief, I am no ghost, but very, very much alive. For one thing, spirits do not eat, and you've just seen me do that, and may yet again this day. This dragon has eaten very well indeed since my little act of deception at Lake Town, in which you, Ring Bearer, Bear Friend, and Burglar, Bilbo Baggins, were so instrumental. While usually not the sentimental sort, I am very, very touched indeed that you seem so happy to see that I am alive and well."

Bilbo's eyes went from the glittering eye to the dragon's broad chest, and strained to see the gaping chink in his natural armor, which allowed Bard's black arrow to pierce the equally black heart of the beast. It was so obvious in the dim light in the depths of Erebor, but now no trace of it could be seen. Smaug knew he was looking for the place, and split a wide grin, that revealed the array of wickedly sharp ivory teeth yet again. "Yesss – oh Barrel-rider, even the weak spot in my armor was a humbug - merely a spot of torn leather and a few shed scales plastered down with a bit of dried blood, yet convincing enough to you because you wanted to believe there was a way to save yourself, just as I knew you would - not to mention putting you a bit underdragon-spell, to make it seem all the more convincing, though you never realized it. Know that I could have killed you at any time if I had wished, even when The One Ring made you invisible, you little fool, for I could still smell your scent and see your every footprint in the loose coins. I only let you think I couldn't take you because I needed you alive, of course, to report the old wound in my breast. Like in a children's fairy story I revealed to you a dragon's secret weakness, for a clever little hobbit to capitalize on, all to make my death seem more believable. Before anyone else, even before the old wizard, I knew you bore the One Ring, and began to lay my plans for the victory I have now attained. I could have taken it from you then, of course, but I knew it might corrupt even me if I dared possess it, just as it did both Galadriel and Gandalf."

The eyes of several in the boat widened in astonishment as Smaug mentioned the corruption of Galadriel and Gandalf. Some prophetic sort of magic, some there thought, though Frodo, who recorded the account in the great red book had a gut-wrenching fear that the reason was far more mundane, and even sinister, but said nothing of it, and prudently let the dragon continue his story.

"Yesss, I knew that a great war was brewing, even at that early date, and that I would be forced to become embroiled in it unless everyone believed I was dead." A deep chuckle arose from his gullet as the dragon rolled backwards, inhaling deeply to fill his lungs and float, belly up to reveal no evidence of any old wound or missing scales on his chest, but also displaying a body much thicker and rotund compared to the lithe, catlike physique which Bilbo remembered from their last meeting nearly over sixty years before. "Not even a scar, as you can plainly see," the dragon boasted. "Oh, and the bones, the physical proof of my sad demise? I knew there would be a few brave souls daring to venture out to the spot where I plunged, wishing to confirm my death. They wouldn't see anything for weeks though because my fall, and the town's destruction would churn up the silt, but as it eventually cleared, down in the murky depths they would glimpse a scattering of large bones and glittering scales – not dragon bones of course, but the bones of some of my larger prey, oliphants and such that would look convincing enough in the dark water, just as you have confirmed. The dragon scales would be real enough, but I had shed a good many of them in all the years I made Erebor my home. "

Perhaps in the creeping senility of his old age,, and despite the deadly danger they all faced, Bilbo was mightily intrigued with the wicked wyrm's tale, and brazenly asked, "I suppose that must all be true for here you are as plain as day, oh Great Smaug, the Most Cunning of Dragons. But there were a fair number in Lake Town that survived the calamity, and many fearful eyes were upon you in the sky all the while, yet no one left alive to tell the tale spoke of Smaug the Destroyer trundling along a great peddler's pack of old bones when he came calling on the unfortunate place."

Chortling smugly, Smaug retorted, "Truly spoken old burglar, but I indeed carried the bones and scales there that very night, all rolled up in one of the long tapestries that hung in the old dwarven king's hall under the mountain, and held the bundle close to my body so no one would notice. I made my first pass over the town with my back to the ground, turning about only at the last moment to drop the packet of bones just above the water, letting my tail splash the moment I dropped them, so no one would be the wiser. I made note of that spot, for it would be there that I would make my dive, after I sufficiently fired the town in rightful retribution for their joining your plot. So after a bit of fun burning the place, I plainly showed my imaginary weak spot to present a good target. Shortly thereafter, I felt the black arrow strike true on the spot I had made up for the occasion, and though it bounced off like all the rest on my hard, hard scales, I gave a convincing shriek feigning pain, and then plunged down just where I dropped the bones. Then I swam underwater to the far shore and quietly slipped away through the dense smoke while everyone watched Lake Town burn."

"Remarkable!" exclaimed Bilbo, "You must truly be the cleverest of dragons, oh great Smaug the Unpredictable. And am I correct to say that you seem even bigger, grander now than I remember, oh Tremendous One."

"Yesss, yesss, dragons really never stop growing, particularly when they feed so well as I have done since last we met. I suppose I'm a good two or three spear lengths longer now. But speaking of old bones, I have one to pick with a certain deceitful hobbit, and perhaps I may pick his own bones from between my teeth after that!" Smaug said with wicked glee. Using the paw that did not hold Gandalf's staff, he gingerly plucked Bilbo from the boat and dropped the hobbit on his own rotund belly. Then the long neck craned down to the hobbit's level, and Bilbo again faced those terrible teeth, and felt the rank, steaming breath on his face, as Smaug's long muzzle loomed close enough to touch.