Meddle Not In The Affairs Of Dragons: Chapter 1
By Nerwen Calaelen
Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction story, so obviously I don't own anything that is recognizable, ie anything from the works of Tolkien. I (possibly) own the plot and any original characters. (Most of the first two paragraphs are directly quoted from 'The Hobbit'.
Rating: PG
A/N: One warning for this story: many people die and almost everyone has a different fate from in canon. However, apart from my initial hypothesis everything is supposed to be consistent to canon, eg geography, characterizations. If I have made any mistakes, please point them out to me. I would really appreciate comments and constructive criticism.
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"Well, I really must not detain Your Magnificence any longer," he said, "or keep you from much needed rest. Ponies take some catching, I believe, after a long start. And so do burglars," he added as a parting shot, as he darted back and fled up the tunnel.
It was an unfortunate remark, for the dragon spouted terrific flames after him, and fast though he sped up the slope, he had not gone nearly far enough to escape the flames.
"And so perishes the thief, who attempted to steal my hoard. But, there in his ashes, what is it that I can see: a gleam of gold!" Smaug determined to add it to his hoard, to replace the cup that Bilbo had stolen. However, as he grasped it in his claw, the Ring - for so it was - slipped onto one of his talons and stuck there. As soon as it came into contact with him, Smaug felt it whispering to him, reminding him of the years past: years when he had been a great dragon in the army of Morgoth, the army that had fought to accomplish the fall of Gondolin. The ring summoned back his memories of these events.
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"So there is news, O Smaug, it would seem that finally we march out against the hidden city." The other, a younger and weaker dragon, paused for a minute and then continued,
"Is this not wonderful news, we go to destroy these elves forever and in the battle there will be many chances to win glory for ourselves."
Smaug ignored her and continued with his preparations for the war. They were to depart that very night.
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The assault force was huge: the majority of Morgoth's forces were to be pitted against the last great stronghold of the Noldor, to crush their strength and destroy them forever.
The battle lasted long, as the Gondolindrim fought desperately for their lives and their city. Arrows hit Smaug's scales, but bounced off as he flew down. He was looking for a target, not for Smaug the Magnificent to kill indiscriminately. He was determined to win renown and to do this he needed to fight a leader of these Elves. His eyes flashed from fighting figure to fighting figure, trying to find one that stood out. He flew lower, skimming the ground, searching, until suddenly he felt a blow to his side. Twisting in the air, he turned to face the warrior before him, who stood there undeterred. Drawing his breath, Smaug spoke.
"Who are you?" he asked, his hot breath billowing over the Elf below. "I see you are a great warrior and request your name so that I know whom I kill."
The warrior laughed, and struck out again.
"O arrogant dragon, you will not kill me. Maybe you should instead tell me your name, so that I may boast of having killed you!"
Furious, Smaug attacked, but the elf moved too quickly for him, getting in a few blows to the dragon before disappearing back into the battle. Enraged at his prey escaping him, Smaug tried to pursue him through to the battle, but the fighting was too fierce to allow it.
But, in the end, all was destroyed: dragons burnt the dwellings, scorched all that was green in the fair gardens, and departed, leaving ruins that told little of the glory and beauty that had once been Gondolin.
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Thus the ring whispered to Smaug, reminding him of the glories that he had been his in the armies of Morgoth, and waking in his blood the longing for war.
And, indeed, I should fight. Am I, Smaug the Magnificent, to allow thirteen dwarves, abetted by the men of Esgaroth, to plunder my hoard as they choose? No! No longer will I allow this! I will fly out against them, this night, covered by the darkness, that was ever our ally.
With this resolve, Smaug flew out into the dark and stealthily approached the camp of the dwarves. Fili, the lookout, heard nothing, and thus the first warning the dwarves got was a burst of flame. In their panic they all died, not thinking to seek refuge in the passage.
Smaug considered returning to his cave, but determined instead to continue onto Laketown and so gain a full revenge.
Esgaroth was slumbering peacefully as Smaug flew silently down from the mountain. His first burst of flame started many fires and left many dead. Bard and a few of the other archers had a chance to grab their bows and fired at the dragon, now clearly visible over the town. But their arrows bounced off his scales. No lucky shot hit his one weak point, for none of the archers knew to aim for it.
When the town was burning fiercely, close to destruction, Smaug flew back up to the mountain, satisfied by his night's work.
As morning broke, Bard gathered up the survivors. Finding that the Master had been killed, and that most of the townspeople were in shock, he took control. He could see that they could not defeat Smaug unaided and so determined to ask for help from King Thanduil of Mirkwood, since he was an ally of theirs.
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