Disclaimer: La la la, it's not mine, la la laaa, too much caffeine......
wheeeeee!
30 years after the invasion.
Little had changed in the thirty years that Smaug had dwelled in Erebor. The dragon was as large and magnificent and fiery as ever, if a little fatter (but don't tell him that!), the Thrush was still cynical and haughty, and Carc the raven was just as ancient and snooty. The only real change was Carc's son of thirty years (young for a raven), Roäc. Who was perpetually curious of and unabashedly friendly with the dragon, something the other birds were disgusted at. This particular day found Smaug and Roäc passing time in the dragon's lair.
"No, down a bit.... Ow! Watch it! Just to the left a tad... that's it!" Observing Roäc hopping about on his belly in his usual leisurely fashion, Smaug watched as the bird slotted pieces of gold and jewels together to form a mosaic on the dragon's underside.
After a while the young raven flapped back to admire his work.
"There! Nearly done!" he chirped energetically, in direct contrast to the dragon's relaxed conduct.
Smaug ran a scaly hand over his newly decorated stomach.
"Hang on! It's not quite ready! Just a couple more pieces...." Said Roäc, frantically sorting through the gems and fitting them together on the dragon's chest.
"Don't sweat it, Feathers... I swear all you birds are on something. You're so stressed. Lay off smoking athelas for an evening; see how you feel without that in your system." Smaug yawned at the preoccupied bird.
"Ok, finished" said Roäc finally. "Do you want to see how it looks so far?"
Smaug moaned lazily. "Does that mean getting up?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Ugh... alright. Just because it's you." Smaug unfurled his great black wings, stretching them the entire length of the cave. He manoeuvred onto his stomach and climbed shakily to his feet, and with one mighty flap of his wings he was up and soaring from the cave, something he had not done in thirty years since invading the Lonely Mountain. Passing silently through the enormous dwarven tunnels, quite a feat for a creature of his size, he burst out of the Front Gate in a blaze of red and gold, and flew down over the River Running to inspect his bejewelled underside.
Flying low over the river, he read the message the jewels tattooed on him, which read 'Thirty Years Unconquered: Erebor I Spy Champion- Melkor Would Be Proud."
"Brilliant!" the dragon growled approvingly. "But you'll have to change it when I get to 'Forty Years Unconquered', you know."
"Agreed." Smiled the young raven cheerfully. He did not understand why the Thrush and his father disapproved of the dragon; for all Roäc could see, Smaug was very friendly, if a little spaced out.
Smaug circled around high over the mountain for a few moments. It had been long since he'd left the lair, and he was particularly hungry. Eventually he flew leisurely down to where Roäc was perched on an outcrop of rock near the summit of the mountain.
"Say, young Roäc, what does a dragon have to do round here to get a bite to eat? Slay an elf lord or ten?"
"I don't know. My father always finds plenty to eat down by Esgaroth; scraps from the men mainly." Replied the raven.
"Yeah, right. What about something bigger? Horses? Cattle? Fifty young virgins?"
Roäc looked disgusted and shocked.
"I'm just joking, don't worry!" Grinned Smaug. "Horse meat gives me wind, I don't touch the stuff."
Roäc decided to ignore this.
"Well, there are plenty of fish in the Long Lake..."
"That's more like it! Watch the fort, would you? Any dwarves show up- come and find me!"
Cackling at the idea that the dwarves would ever return, Smaug swooped low, trailing the path of the river as it ran down towards Esgaroth; the Long Lake.
--------
Meanwhile, in Laketown, Odi and Freálf, the current occupants of the guardhouse, were engaging in a little I Spy of their own.
"I Spy with my little eye.... Something beginning with... 'L'" Said Freálf proudly.
"Lake?" said Odi monotonously.
"How did you guess?" said Freálf incredulously.
"Seriously, Fre', you have to get a new word." Sighed Odi.
"Aw, come on, just one more go!" begged Odi's fellow guard.
"Oh, go on then."
"I Spy with my little eye...." Began Freálf, looking around for inspiration. Suddenly, looking past Odi, his eyes grew wide with terror. "D... D...D...!" he squeaked.
"D? Adventurous, aren't we." Said Odi sarcastically.
"Dra... dra..!"
"Alright! Alright! I can guess it, you know. Let me have a go!" said Odi impatiently.
"Dragon!" cried Freálf, pointing a shaking finger at the sky behind Odi.
"Now what did I just say.... Dragon!?!" cried Odi, spinning around and squinting at the sky.
And indeed there it was; a speck of red and gold soaring towards them at a great speed, the mighty beating of its wings audible from even that distance.
"ARGH!" Cried Odi.
"DRAGON!" Cried Freálf.
Soon the word spread and an alarmed mass of people clustered on the narrow streets of Laketown, all pointing and shouting at the rapidly growing red dot in the sky.
Smaug, as usual, was oblivious to the terror he was inspiring far below him, and was only concerned with how he could get a large amount of fish without getting doused with a large amount of water. Smaug disliked water as much as the Nazgûl disliked... well, water.
Eventually swooping down to the lakeside and perching on the shore, he gazed thoughtfully for a few moments into the dark waters of the lake.
Presently he heard the beat of wings much smaller than his own, and looking up he saw the Thrush and an apologetic-looking Roäc flying balefully behind him.
"What are you doing?" Cried the Thrush half angrily, half in amazement.
"Fishing." Replied Smaug confusedly.
"You're terrifying the townspeople!"
Glancing up, Smaug for the first time acknowledged the cries of horror coming from the town on the opposite shore.
"Oh. So that's what they were screaming at! I thought it was a festival of some sort."
The Thrush shook his tiny head disbelievingly.
"They think you've come to burn and pillage!"
Smaug looked shocked.
"No!" he looked wide-eyed over at the town, and stretched his wings. "Well, I better go and explain, then!" he smiled.
"NO! No! I'll go! You stay here!" said the Thrush. "You! Keep him here." He said to Roäc.
The Thrush flapped off towards Laketown, hoping frantically that someone there could speak Thrush.
Eventually, after much searching, explaining and reasoning, the Thrush flew back to Smaug and Roäc with an ultimatum.
"They said that if you never attack them or anything, they'll send half of the fish they catch monthly to the mountain."
"Was that all they said?" Said Smaug curiously. "No grovelling? No marvelling at my magnificence?"
"They said a great deal more, most of it unrepeatable in front of Croak Junior here." Replied the Thrush, nodding towards the young raven.
"It's Roäc."
"Well, if they're sure." Said Smaug finally. "Can they start right away?"
"Don't push it." Threatened the Thrush, fixing his eyes on Smaug's, before flapping back to the Lonely Mountain, followed shortly by the dragon and the young raven, already deep in discussion for the dragon's next jewellery slogan- 'Forty Years Unconquered- Erebor Thrush Pissing-Off Champion'.
A/N: Please ignore the names Odi and Freálf. Totally made them up. Most likely influenced by Rohirrim names. Look authentic though, don't they? No? Just me, then.
30 years after the invasion.
Little had changed in the thirty years that Smaug had dwelled in Erebor. The dragon was as large and magnificent and fiery as ever, if a little fatter (but don't tell him that!), the Thrush was still cynical and haughty, and Carc the raven was just as ancient and snooty. The only real change was Carc's son of thirty years (young for a raven), Roäc. Who was perpetually curious of and unabashedly friendly with the dragon, something the other birds were disgusted at. This particular day found Smaug and Roäc passing time in the dragon's lair.
"No, down a bit.... Ow! Watch it! Just to the left a tad... that's it!" Observing Roäc hopping about on his belly in his usual leisurely fashion, Smaug watched as the bird slotted pieces of gold and jewels together to form a mosaic on the dragon's underside.
After a while the young raven flapped back to admire his work.
"There! Nearly done!" he chirped energetically, in direct contrast to the dragon's relaxed conduct.
Smaug ran a scaly hand over his newly decorated stomach.
"Hang on! It's not quite ready! Just a couple more pieces...." Said Roäc, frantically sorting through the gems and fitting them together on the dragon's chest.
"Don't sweat it, Feathers... I swear all you birds are on something. You're so stressed. Lay off smoking athelas for an evening; see how you feel without that in your system." Smaug yawned at the preoccupied bird.
"Ok, finished" said Roäc finally. "Do you want to see how it looks so far?"
Smaug moaned lazily. "Does that mean getting up?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Ugh... alright. Just because it's you." Smaug unfurled his great black wings, stretching them the entire length of the cave. He manoeuvred onto his stomach and climbed shakily to his feet, and with one mighty flap of his wings he was up and soaring from the cave, something he had not done in thirty years since invading the Lonely Mountain. Passing silently through the enormous dwarven tunnels, quite a feat for a creature of his size, he burst out of the Front Gate in a blaze of red and gold, and flew down over the River Running to inspect his bejewelled underside.
Flying low over the river, he read the message the jewels tattooed on him, which read 'Thirty Years Unconquered: Erebor I Spy Champion- Melkor Would Be Proud."
"Brilliant!" the dragon growled approvingly. "But you'll have to change it when I get to 'Forty Years Unconquered', you know."
"Agreed." Smiled the young raven cheerfully. He did not understand why the Thrush and his father disapproved of the dragon; for all Roäc could see, Smaug was very friendly, if a little spaced out.
Smaug circled around high over the mountain for a few moments. It had been long since he'd left the lair, and he was particularly hungry. Eventually he flew leisurely down to where Roäc was perched on an outcrop of rock near the summit of the mountain.
"Say, young Roäc, what does a dragon have to do round here to get a bite to eat? Slay an elf lord or ten?"
"I don't know. My father always finds plenty to eat down by Esgaroth; scraps from the men mainly." Replied the raven.
"Yeah, right. What about something bigger? Horses? Cattle? Fifty young virgins?"
Roäc looked disgusted and shocked.
"I'm just joking, don't worry!" Grinned Smaug. "Horse meat gives me wind, I don't touch the stuff."
Roäc decided to ignore this.
"Well, there are plenty of fish in the Long Lake..."
"That's more like it! Watch the fort, would you? Any dwarves show up- come and find me!"
Cackling at the idea that the dwarves would ever return, Smaug swooped low, trailing the path of the river as it ran down towards Esgaroth; the Long Lake.
--------
Meanwhile, in Laketown, Odi and Freálf, the current occupants of the guardhouse, were engaging in a little I Spy of their own.
"I Spy with my little eye.... Something beginning with... 'L'" Said Freálf proudly.
"Lake?" said Odi monotonously.
"How did you guess?" said Freálf incredulously.
"Seriously, Fre', you have to get a new word." Sighed Odi.
"Aw, come on, just one more go!" begged Odi's fellow guard.
"Oh, go on then."
"I Spy with my little eye...." Began Freálf, looking around for inspiration. Suddenly, looking past Odi, his eyes grew wide with terror. "D... D...D...!" he squeaked.
"D? Adventurous, aren't we." Said Odi sarcastically.
"Dra... dra..!"
"Alright! Alright! I can guess it, you know. Let me have a go!" said Odi impatiently.
"Dragon!" cried Freálf, pointing a shaking finger at the sky behind Odi.
"Now what did I just say.... Dragon!?!" cried Odi, spinning around and squinting at the sky.
And indeed there it was; a speck of red and gold soaring towards them at a great speed, the mighty beating of its wings audible from even that distance.
"ARGH!" Cried Odi.
"DRAGON!" Cried Freálf.
Soon the word spread and an alarmed mass of people clustered on the narrow streets of Laketown, all pointing and shouting at the rapidly growing red dot in the sky.
Smaug, as usual, was oblivious to the terror he was inspiring far below him, and was only concerned with how he could get a large amount of fish without getting doused with a large amount of water. Smaug disliked water as much as the Nazgûl disliked... well, water.
Eventually swooping down to the lakeside and perching on the shore, he gazed thoughtfully for a few moments into the dark waters of the lake.
Presently he heard the beat of wings much smaller than his own, and looking up he saw the Thrush and an apologetic-looking Roäc flying balefully behind him.
"What are you doing?" Cried the Thrush half angrily, half in amazement.
"Fishing." Replied Smaug confusedly.
"You're terrifying the townspeople!"
Glancing up, Smaug for the first time acknowledged the cries of horror coming from the town on the opposite shore.
"Oh. So that's what they were screaming at! I thought it was a festival of some sort."
The Thrush shook his tiny head disbelievingly.
"They think you've come to burn and pillage!"
Smaug looked shocked.
"No!" he looked wide-eyed over at the town, and stretched his wings. "Well, I better go and explain, then!" he smiled.
"NO! No! I'll go! You stay here!" said the Thrush. "You! Keep him here." He said to Roäc.
The Thrush flapped off towards Laketown, hoping frantically that someone there could speak Thrush.
Eventually, after much searching, explaining and reasoning, the Thrush flew back to Smaug and Roäc with an ultimatum.
"They said that if you never attack them or anything, they'll send half of the fish they catch monthly to the mountain."
"Was that all they said?" Said Smaug curiously. "No grovelling? No marvelling at my magnificence?"
"They said a great deal more, most of it unrepeatable in front of Croak Junior here." Replied the Thrush, nodding towards the young raven.
"It's Roäc."
"Well, if they're sure." Said Smaug finally. "Can they start right away?"
"Don't push it." Threatened the Thrush, fixing his eyes on Smaug's, before flapping back to the Lonely Mountain, followed shortly by the dragon and the young raven, already deep in discussion for the dragon's next jewellery slogan- 'Forty Years Unconquered- Erebor Thrush Pissing-Off Champion'.
A/N: Please ignore the names Odi and Freálf. Totally made them up. Most likely influenced by Rohirrim names. Look authentic though, don't they? No? Just me, then.