Smaug was much larger than Marie had been led to believe.

She stared out the window of the small jail cell, watching the red dragon flying through the air, his serpentine tail flicking behind him. His wings were spread wide, leathery like a bat's, and his claws glinted as if they were made of the metal of the old Elvish swords. Fire blew from his mouth, setting more buildings of the Lake aflame. In a strange way, the scene was breathtaking.

"I suppose you get your I-told-you-so moment," she remarked dryly.

Bard frowned thoughtfully, ignoring her. He was standing next to her by the window, but instead of looking at the dragon like Marie was his gaze was on the channel below them, where some of the quicker Lakemen were already evacuating, rowing out of the town on their barges. In a few minutes Marie was certain that others would join them, and the water would be filled with evacuees.

She gave him a look, observing his expression. The two of them barely knew each other, but she could tell that he was thinking hard, trying to find a way to get them out of this. "What's the plan?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing, so far," he answered. "If we had a rope we could tie it to the bars on the window throw it out, where it would catch onto one of the barges-"

"-which would then pull the entire wall off, which would then free us," Marie finished.

Bard nodded. "Exactly," he agreed. "The only problem is that we don't have a rope."

They were silent as they tried to think of a solution, but then they both snapped their fingers at the same time. "The blanket," they said in sync. Hurriedly, both of them ran over to the bed. Bard yanked the blanket off and started ripping it into strips, which Marie grabbed and tied together in tight knots.

In a few seconds Marie was holding a rope about fifty feet long, made of the blanket strips. She passed it to Bard, who tied both ends to the bars on the window, making a loop. "Tell me when," he told her.

Marie glanced out the window and saw a handful of boats passing by. "Now!" she shouted.

Without even a second of hesitation, Bard tossed the rope out of the window. "Get back!" he ordered. He pushed her against the far wall, blocking her with his body, and then she could feel his heartbeat, his breath, his warmth against hers. She glanced up at him, but his eyes were crunched up, bracing for impact.

And then there was a loud bang, and rubble went flying everywhere. Bard flinched, but then he was moving the next second, hurrying towards the now-open cell. Marie followed him and glanced out at the town. Houses were burning in every direction that she looked, and Smaug was still flying overhead, screeching his anger. The channels were filled with boats, but her eyes were drawn to one that was right in front of them, already half sunken. At first Marie thought that it was because there was a hole in the boat, but then she realized that it was weighed down with gold. The boat could only belong to one person.

Her uncle.

Sure enough, the Master was standing in the back of the boat, and Marie frowned when she saw him there. She was tempted to throw the urine can at him, but then she noticed that he was coughing, and their makeshift rope was around his neck.

"We almost choked my uncle!" she exclaimed in horror.

Bard scoffed. "Serves him right," he said. He turned to her. "We're still not out of this yet; I need my bow. Where would it be?"

Marie raised an eyebrow. "You're still going to kill the dragon?" she asked. He nodded, and for a second she was silent. Then she squared her shoulders. "I'll lead the way."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Let's go," he agreed.

Instantly Marie was climbing out of the cell, pulling herself onto the roof. Bard followed her, and in a second they were both on top of the prison cell. Smaug suddenly let out a roar, and Marie almost fell off from her precarious position on the roof. But she steadied herself at the last second, then took a deep breath and started hurrying along towards the guardroom.

It only took a minute to reach the guardroom window. Marie gestured to it, and Bard nodded. He looked at the window for a second, bracing himself, then swung his feet at it. The glass shattered on impact, and Bard swung into the guardroom. Marie followed him and landed inside just to see him swinging his quiver over his shoulder. He grabbed his bow and tested the string, then nodded in satisfaction.

The Bowman turned to face her, his expression resigned. "This is where our paths part, Marie," he told her.

She frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked.

He glanced out the window, where the tall bell tower could be seen, standing taller than the other buildings. Smaug had yet to set it on fire. "I have to kill the dragon," he said. "I wouldn't ask you to come with me."

Marie hesitated, her thoughts torn. She knew the noble thing would be to go with Bard, even though it wasn't like she was going to be able to do much; but every survival instinct within her shouted at her to leave, to do as he said and leave Laketown.

It seemed like he sensed her hesitation, because he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Please, get off of the Lake before the dragon destroys it all," he requested. "Find my children, if they survived. Take care of them... until I return."

Marie remained silent for another second, but then she nodded. "Alright," she agreed.

Bard gave her a small smile. "Thank you," he said. "Let's go."

They climbed out of the window and pulled themselves back up onto the rooftops. "Good luck," Marie told him.

He nodded. "You too," he replied. "Be careful."

Silence fell for a second, both of them knowing that this could be the last time that they saw each other. Marie felt that she should say something to the man who she had barely known for twelve hours but who she already considered one of her closest friends, but words suddenly failed her.

So instead of saying something, she pulled him into a hug.

Bard stiffened, obviously not having expected that, but then he hugged her back with his free hand. "You should go now," he said. "Swim to one of the barges and get on board. They'll take you to shore."

She pulled back and looked him in the eye. "You'd better get out of this alive, Bard," she told him.

The Bowman nodded. "I will," he replied. But it was an empty promise, and they both knew it.

Marie hesitated for one more second, then turned and started making her way down the building towards the channel below them. Bard remained where he was on the rooftops, watching to make sure that she made it down safely. Then, when he saw her jump into the water and start swimming, he turned and started running over the rooftops, making his way to the bell tower.

He was going to kill the dragon.

000

The water was cold.

Marie knew full well that it was the middle of winter, so she should have been expecting the sudden drop in temperature when she dove into the water. But it was far colder than she had predicted, and it was all she could do to keep swimming, trying to find a barge that would stop for her. Her uncle was long gone- not that she would have ever gotten onto his barge, even if she could find him. Everyone else in this small town were practically strangers to her; none of them would help her, even if she asked them. She was certain of it.

"Hey, Marie! Marie! Over here!"

She turned around to see a small barge making its way towards her. Rowing it was a red-haired woman dressed in strange clothes, but she knew everyone else in the barge well: Bofur, Oin, Kili, Fili, Tilda, Bain, and Sigrid. They had made it.

The barge pulled up to her, and Fili and Kili pulled her aboard. "Th- thanks," Marie stuttered, trying to prevent herself from shivering from the cold.

Instantly, Kili pulled off his coat and wrapped it around her. "Here," he told her.

She shook her head and tried to give it back to him. "You're sick," she protested. "Keep it. I'll warm up eventually."

Kili grinned at her. "Tauriel healed me," he told her. "I'm fine. You need it more than me right now."

Marie raised an eyebrow. "Tauriel?" she repeated.

Fili gestured to the red-haired woman. "She's an Elf from Mirkwood," he explained. "She saved us from Orcs- it's a long story." Marie nodded to Tauriel, who nodded back.

Sigrid leaned forward, her eyes shining with concern. "Marie, where's Da?" she asked. "Bain said that he was with you."

Marie hesitated. "We-" she started.

"Da!" Bain suddenly shouted.

"DA!" Tilda screeched.

Everyone whirled around to see Bard standing atop the bell tower, his bow in his hands and aimed at Smaug. As they watched, the Bowman shot an arrow, and even though he was far away it seemed to Marie that he had hit Smaug.

"He hit it!" Kili exclaimed, apparently seeing the same thing that Marie had. "He hit the dragon!"

Tauriel shook her head. "No..." she told him.

Kili whirled around to face her, his eyes bright with excitement. "He did!" he protested. "He hit his mark, I saw!"

But the Elf just looked at him sadly. "His arrows cannot pierce its hide," she explained. "I fear nothing will."

Marie looked up at Bard again, her eyes wide when she realized what she had forgotten: the Black Arrow. Bard didn't have the Black Arrow. Without it he had no chance against Smaug. How could both of them have forgotten that he needed the Arrow?

No, he hadn't forgotten. He knew full well that he needed the Arrow, but he also knew that there was no time to try to find it. So he had gone ahead anyway, risking his life on the small chance that he would somehow be able to kill the dragon without a Black Arrow.

Why had she let him go? She should have insisted that he come with her, that he flee Laketown just as everyone else was doing...

Suddenly Bain leaped up, grabbing a hanging hook that they were passing under and swinging clear of the boat. Instantly, everyone tried to pull him back into the boat, but he was out of their reach. "What are you doing?!" Bofur shouted.

"Come back!" Fili yelled. "Bain, come back!"

Marie glanced back up at Bard on the bell tower, and she suddenly had a sinking feeling that she knew what he was trying to do. "Bain, you can't help him!" Marie cried. "Nobody can!"

Bard had tasked her with watching over his children, and she had already failed in the minute that she had been with them.

As they watched, Bain used the hook to swing to the dock, and he ran to one of the boats that were docked under the very statue of the Master that Marie had vandalized two days ago as the Lady. Already it seemed so long ago, like it was in a different lifetime.

"Leave him!" Tauriel ordered. "We cannot go back!"

"Bain!" Tilda cried, one last attempt to change his mind.

But the boy didn't pay any attention to her; instead, he grabbed something from the boat and made his way towards the bell tower. At first Marie couldn't make out what he had just retrieved, but then Smaug made a pass at some nearby buildings, lighting them on fire, and she could see it.

He had gotten the Black Arrow.

000

Bard kept a trained eye on Smaug as he reached for another arrow from his quiver. His hand closed around empty air.

Quickly, he whirled around to look at his quiver, which he had hung up on the bell tower. It wasn't empty as he had feared, but there was only one left.

He only had one more chance.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the arrow and fitted it into his bow. He focused on the dragon again, its serpentine form twirling through the air... and he loosed the arrow.

Smaug suddenly flew past the tower, the wind from his wings knocking Bard over. The arrow made contact with the dragon's hide, and Smaug let out a howl. For a second Bard allowed himself to hope that he had hit the dragon, but a moment later he saw that the arrow had bounced off, just as the ones before it.

There was nothing more he could do.

"Dad!"

Bard whirled around to see Bain there. "Bain?!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?! Why didn't you leave?! You were supposed to leave!"

Bain glared at him, refusing to back down. "I came to help you," he said.

Bard shook his head. "No!" he replied. "Nothing can stop him now!"

But that just caused Bain to smirk, his expression smug. "This might," he replied. He held up his hand, and in it was the Black Arrow.

The Black Arrow...

He felt a sudden wave of gratitude for his son, and he placed a comforting hand on Bain's face. "Bain, you go back," he ordered. "You get out of here now."

Bain began to reply, but then his eyes widened in horror at something behind Bard. "DAD!" he shouted.

Before Bard could fully comprehend what had just happened, there was a cracking sound, and out of the corner of his eye Bard caught a glimpse of the tail of the dragon. But then he and Bain went flying, and Bard landed with a grunt on the floor of the tower.

He pulled himself up, ignoring the stab of pain, and he saw that the entire top of the bell tower had been smashed by Smaug's attack. The bell was gone, as well as the structure that had held it...

And Bain.

Bard sprung to his feet in a panic, but then he noticed a hand clinging to the edge of the tower. "BAIN!" he cried. He scrambled towards the edge and saw that it was indeed his son who was clinging to the tower. He had one hand clamped around the edge, and in the other was the Arrow. Instantly, Bard grabbed Bain's arm and pulled him up on the tower.

"Who are you that would stand against me?!" Smaug suddenly roared. Bard whirled around to see that he had captured the dragon's attention; Smaug's terrible orange eyes were fixed on him and the bell tower.

Bain stood there, shaking, but Bard had no time to comfort his son. Instead, he pulled the Black Arrow out of his hands and reached for his bow-

Only to find that it had broken.

The dragon let out a sound that sounded like a chuckle. "Now that is a pity," he commented dryly. "What will you do now, Bowman? You are forsaken. No help will come."

Bard glanced around frantically, trying to improvise, but there was nothing he could use to fix his bow. He had the Black Arrow, but he had no way to shoot it.

Smaug started walking forward, crushing the buildings beneath him ominously. "Is that your child?" he asked, gesturing to Bain with his head. "You cannot save him from the fire. He will BURN!"

Bain...

Suddenly it clicked, and Bard knew what to do. He grabbed the two halves of his broken bow and stuck them into the walls of the bell tower, with the bowstring taught between them. "Bain!" he ordered sharply. His son hurried forward, and Bard positioned him in the middle of the two walls. Then, carefully, he fixed the Black Arrow on Bain's shoulder.

He tried to aim it at the dragon, but the Arrow kept shaking, throwing off his reference point; it took him a second to realize that it was because Bain was shivering, his eyes wide with fear. Bard grimaced, wishing that he had time to ease his fears, but there was no time. "Stay still, son," he instructed. "Stay still."

"Tell me, wretch!" Smaug shouted, still approaching. "How now shall you challenge me?!"

Smaug continued walking forward, and suddenly Bard saw what he needed: a missing scale on Smaug's chest, the scale that was broken by Girion all those years ago. A small smile crossed his face; he had found his target.

"You have noting left but your DEATH!" Smaug roared.

The dragon let out a howl and started approaching rapidly. Bain tensed and tried to look over his shoulder. "Bain!" Bard exclaimed. "Look at me! You look at me!"

Bain turned back around, and Bard pulled the bowstring taught, his muscled arm already beginning to shake with the effort of holding the arrow taut. He looked at the dragon, trying to aim his shot. "A little to your left," he ordered. Bain did as he said, moving the tip of the arrow to the right and lining it up perfectly with the missing scale.

"That's it," Bard whispered.

And he released the arrow.

He watched as it flew from Bain's shoulder at high speeds, faster than any arrow that Bard had ever shot before. It sliced through the air and embedded itself deep into Smaug's chest, right where Bard had wanted it. He had done it.

Smaug let out a roar of pain, and he flinched, careening into the bell tower. Bain let out a cry, startled by the impact, and Bard reached out and grabbed him as they fell with the tower towards the water.

They landed with a thud.

The dragon screeched and fell to his side, rolling around in panic and crushing all the buildings that he had yet to set fire to. He struggled to launch himself into the sky, his last refuge, and he managed to fly a few hundred feet up, screaming and wheezing in pain.

Suddenly it seemed like time froze. He no longer felt the pain of the Arrow embedded inside of him, or his wings flapping, or the need to breathe. No, he was weightless, floating in midair without a care in the world.

And then his vision slowly started to shrink, the cold, bright stars above him being consumed by an infinite darkness until that was all there was: darkness.

His body fell back down to the Lake, crashing down on the Master's barge filled with gold. His eyes were dull, lifeless.

Smaug the Terrible had met his end.