Chapter 3 - The City
"Here be Dragons" - Early European Map Makers' Warning
Smaug, the Witch and the girl headed towards the south east, towards the country of Dorwinion. They followed the Celduin River from the Marshlands where they had been camped, following it down stream as it headed to the junction where it met with the River Carnen and both became the Red River and flowed to the Sea of Rhûn. The Witch and the girl sold the cart and whatever goods they had to spare when they passed a travelling merchant in exchange for a few food supplies and a horse. Meaning that they now had two. Meaning that Andraya and Freyja were on one horse, whilst Smaug was on the other.
That was an experience that Smaug would rather forget.
Despite Freyja's reassurances that the animal was tame and docile, every time Smaug came within ten feet of it, the thing screamed and tried to bolt, fighting against the restraints around it. Smaug knew that it was because the animal sensed the predator in him, and he would have lied if he said that he didn't find the creature appetising: all plump and juicy, a lot of muscle and some fat to make it so that it wasn't just skin and bones. But, after ten minutes of the beast screaming pathetically – ten minutes past the end of Smaug's patience – he simply stormed over to the creature, snatched its reins in his human hands from the girl, yanking the animal's head towards him viciously, his fingers grabbing the lower jaw, blunt-useless-fingernails digging into the flesh, and he made the creature stare into his flaming eyes. Instantly the horse became eerily still, pupils widening as it fell under the dragonspell. Smaug hadn't been entirely certain if it would even work in this form, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that it had… In fact, he had noticed that he was rather different from other humans – as if he could be as mundane as any other human. His senses were far superior to those of others, for one, even if they were still rather muted compared to when he had been in his dragon form. He could see the wings of a bee flapping in detail, though before he could have seen every single membrane and vein in each wing. He could smell the subtle changes in all the scents around him, and could smell a man out from forty paces away, even if before he could have poked his head into a crowded room and would have been able to tell apart every single separate scent in the space of a single breath. He could hear the heart beats of anyone standing close enough to him, whether as before he could have heard it from across the room. He also noticed that he was incredibly strong for a mortal, as well as fast - both of which pleased him for if and when he was to fight in this form.
Once they were all mounted up, they quickly set off, and despite the fact that Andraya led the way, Smaug set the pace. He was ruthless and merciless, even when the girl whimpered from riding sores, and even Andraya had a stiff posture from constantly riding for hours upon hours, he would not relent, even when he himself began to grow uncomfortable. They carried on, often lapsing into silence - to which Smaug was grateful for, as he did not want to converse with the Witch any more then was necessary. But upon the second day of riding, Smaug was somewhat surprised when Andraya coaxed her and Freyja's horse to trot next to Smaug's. He looked over at them with a cocked eyebrow and a slight curl of his lip in disdain, even if the Witch ignored him.
"Here," she simply said as she handed him something. "I found this with your body, clutched in your hand,"
Curiosity getting the better of him, Smaug looked down at the object she had handed him, and felt every muscle in his body stiffen as he beheld one of his own scales. His fingers clenched around the hard and rough texture, his eyes blazing as he thought of when he had last seen this. He had given it to only one other: Kathryn. It belonged to her as a gift, and as a way for him to stake his claim upon her, a mark so that all knew who she belonged to, and so that she remembered as well. For the sixty years that they had been separated, she had never taken it off, not once. It had only been taken from her by the filthy dwarf Oakenshield before Smaug returned it to her, only to have it separated from her again when that cloaked bastard had stolen her corpse from him.
Smaug thought about that stranger, of the man that had stolen from him when he had been at his weakest and unable to fight back. He had taken Kathryn from him, had walked over him as if he were nothing, humiliated him as he lay dying – or so he had thought – and took from him his dying wish. Something about that character put Smaug on edge, making his hackles rise at the mere memory of him, making his nose burn from the scent and his skin crawl at the thought. Smaug had no doubt that it was most likely that mysterious man who had brought Kathryn back to life if Andraya was correct, but the connection with Dorwinion didn't make sense, and the man carrying Kathryn's body that Smaug had seen in the crystal ball had not been that repulsive insect like figure from that night. However, those were questions to be answered later, when he had Kathryn back, safe and in his clutches. He could only reassure himself that he would find whoever did this, that disgusting creature, and he would thank him for bringing Kathryn back, before quickly ripping him limb from limb as punishment for taking her.
"Something the matter?" Andraya asked, bringing Smaug back to the present to realise that several minutes had passed where he had said nothing and had merely been glaring at the offending scale in his hands.
"Nothing you should concern yourself with," he muttered icily, tucking the scale into the pocket of his coat, before urging the horse further onwards.
It took them a week and a half in order to reach the borders of Dorwinion, and Smaug immediately noticed how green everything looked. There were not many forests but instead shrubbery and vast plains of grass, which soon gave way to farmland and vineyards, what Andraya called the wealth of the land. Smaug could only snort in disgust at such nonsense. The earth itself was rich and moist, and Smaug could feel the life that radiated from it, which explained why everything around him seemed healthy and untouched by woe or trouble. It was as if the lands had never seen a single winter, nor the change of a season, forever suspended and frozen in the form of high spring. He was actually surprised: in the rest of Middle Earth, it was midwinter, and snow storms and blizzards and deep freezes plagued the land, setting everything into an age that no mortal remembered, only the dragons, who remembered a time when the world was covered in ice and snow all year round. But here, the worst Dowrinion had it, was of freezing nights that brought only the frost, some rain and occasionally a vicious wind. Andraya assured him that it was just the climate of this place in particular, as Gondor saw its fair share of winters, but further east into Rhûn, it was blistering heat and even some of the land was desert all year round. It was as if a spell lay over Dorwinion, keeping it in a state of eternal youth, with the peasants constantly reaping the rewards.
After another two days of travelling the country, they finally reached the City of Vathvael, its walls sparkling on the horizon soon growing closer and closer, the height of them becoming impressively larger and larger as they came towards it. The city itself was… impressive. Smaug couldn't think of anything else to say, he cared little for mortal architecture, but he could admit credit where it was due – on this occasion at least. The city itself was protected by a wall that surrounded the entire city, at least fifty feet high, and probably half that thick. The stone was smooth alabaster white, that sparkled in the light of the sun as if diamonds were embedded in the rock. Beyond that, were streets of buildings and fine gardens and sculpted fountains, people flowing all about as if they were ants scuttling about within their nest. Markets teemed with life as vendors sold silks and trinkets and food and wine, the hum of activity could be heard even from outside the city walls. Even the slums and poorer parts of the city were well built, clean and sturdy houses, and Smaug noticed that Vathvael's architecture was roughly the same, there was not much of a difference between the buildings at a glance. But in the centre of the city, a huge structure rose out of the ground and towered above all below, dominating the sky, a Castle stood proud and tall made of the same smooth white marble and alabaster it seemed. It was massive, the spires reaching high into the sky, flying buttresses and towers that would have made a very interesting flying course, Smaug observed with a gleam in his eye as he pictured himself in his draconic form, twisting and flying between the spires as he had his fire rain down upon the city. The Castle was built with beauty evidently in mind, but also strength, as Smaug could imagine no human looking upon it lightly, with lofty halls and tall, stain-glass windows, that allowed in the light.
But with the city being so alight with activity, with humans and dwarves flocking to the gates to push themselves into the city centre, the guards were alert and armed to the teeth as they watched all below. So sneaking into the city would not be an intelligent choice, especially when it was vital that Smaug stay undetected for as long as possible. So that meant going through the main gate, "blending in with the crowd" as Andraya smugly put it. Smaug scoffed at the idea that his magnificence – even in this form – could blend in with the common ugly state of mortals. But, he was here for a reason, and feeling his bones respond to the call of Kathryn, who still lay beyond his reach, even with her so close, he was prepared to do whatever was necessary. And so he donned a hood and cloak to hide his eyes and face and mask the strength in his tall and massive frame as they entered the fray.
They flowed in with the traffic of the city, the gates flooded with peasants and merchants come to swarm the markets of the capital like locusts. Smaug hated it. It took every ounce of his self-control to not snap and snarl at anyone who came to within a three foot radius of him without his permission. Dirty, stinking, miserable humans pressed against him as they all tried to squeeze through the gate, causing Smaug to ball his human hands into fists and set his jaw, trying to distract his mind away from the situation, by thinking through every single piece of his horde at the Lonely Mountain. A Dragon knew and memorised his or her horde down to the last ounce, and so could instantly tell when a piece was missing from its proper place or stolen. Thinking of his precious gold helped to calm Smaug enough, though made his blood pound with the want of death for those who had taken it from him in the first place. But he couldn't, not yet, not when one vital piece was still missing, which was why he was in this situation at this very moment.
Eventually, the three of them managed to work their way past the gates and through the busy market places, towards the more settled districts more towards the palace. Smaug had looked into the Crystal Ball, and had seen Kathryn lying upon a bed, tended by maids and servants in a lush room filled with drapes and exquisitely carved furniture with bowls of fruit and flowers lying about. This had led them to believe that Kathryn was somewhere in the palace, meaning that getting to her would be another challenge. Andraya had then left Smaug and Freyja at an Inn, where they used the last of their coin in order to rent two rooms. Smaug immediately went to his room and locked himself inside, grateful to be away from the rabble and at least calm the noise that assaulted his eardrums from such loud creatures. Even if the room itself stank of smoke and fish, it was somewhat of a relief from being surrounded by people, the threat of attack almost impossible to resist as he had been pressed from all sides, a thousand different scents assaulting his nose, and a thousand different sounds deafened his ears. At least now he could relax a little before he could find Kathryn.
Kathryn lay in darkness...
It coiled around her, like the bodies of a thousand serpents, twisting and writing around her, squeezing the life out of her...
Then she was falling, screaming as she fell through the sky, heart racing and diving as she spun around and around...
She then came crashing to the earth, her bones snapping and breaking, her body crumbling into a thousand pieces. But then, she felt a sting across her skin as her body began to knit itself back together, healing so that she could feel the pain anew as it all came rushing to her mind from where it had been blocked out by the broken bones...
And fire suddenly leapt across her skin, burning her flesh, blistering it and turning it black, the smoke making her cough as it seeped into her mouth and nose, and she was unable to shake it. The burning light seared her flesh, making her scream until she was hoarse from the pain and the smoke, yet she did not pass out from either, instead she was forced to watch as her flesh melted away from her bones, her blood falling into the fire and spitting and hissing like a snake. The flames were everywhere...
And then Kathryn saw a figure come through the flames, his armoured boots not making a sound as the fire parted before him, like a dog standing down for its master, until he stood before her. He was armoured like a king, but Kathryn could not make out any detail other than his long hair and tall stature, for the rest of him was hidden in the shadows cast by the twisting flames. He knelt before her, eyes glittering out from the shadows as he looked into her, a softness in his eyes that made her want to curl against him and let him hold her until the nightmares finally ceased…
"Tharŷliel… Voronwer, cormlle naa tanya tel'raa… Esta sinome…" his voice whispered in her mind, deep and comforting, warm and gentle, ancient yet young, he echoed with fatherly affection as his delicate touch held her face, a look passing over his shadowed eyes…
And then he stood, and Kathryn saw the flames bend and leave him, parting to reveal a great sight before her. A lane of deep banks and great overhanging hedges, beyond which stood many tall trees wherein a perpetual whisper seemed to live. Great glow-worms, not the dark glow-worms that roam some parts of Middle-earth, crept about its grassy borders. At the end of the lane stood a high gate of lattice-work that shone golden in the dusk. The gate opened up to winding paths leading into the fairest of all gardens. Kathryn felt her breath melt away in awe…
But, like always in the dream, it faded, melting away like ink in the water…
Kathryn lay in darkness...
Smaug heard the footsteps along the corridor before the loud knocks upon his door, he grumbled an order for the knocker to enter, already knowing that it was Andraya with the girl close at her heels as he smelled Andraya's perfume that stung his nostrils, and heard the second pair of footsteps behind her. The pair entered, and Smaug had to force himself to look at them, his contempt for them evident as he glared with disdain. Andraya did not seem fazed, though the girl shrunk away from his gaze. Smaug waited for all of three seconds for them to explain.
"Well?" he bit out when they remained silent after that allotted time.
"As you said, the seer is being held in the Castle." Andraya said in her usual smooth and even voice. "She was brought here with a group of travelling merchants, who have ties to Lord Baronor of House Evrine, the most influential noble in the city."
"I care not for his pathetic human titles, he will die the same as any other man if he keeps Kathryn from me," Smaug growled out between clenched teeth, his burning gaze practically glowing with seething hate.
"It is not that simple." Andraya spoke over him. "The merchants brought her here because she was in need of medical help. All that the guards would tell me is that… she was afflicted with a madness of mind and sickness of body that they are not sure even their best physicians can treat. Because of the Merchant's interest in the woman's welfare, Lord Baronor has summoned any healer, both of practical or magical disciplines, in order to try and treat her."
"Then I need to get to her," Smaug stood, towering over everything in the room, his mind spinning with thoughts as images were conjured up into his head of his precious Kathryn, lying broken and sick and reaching out to him, only for him to not be able to reach her or protect her.
"She is being held in the chambers of Lord Baronor's estate within the main complex of the Castle, held as a privileged guest. We can get to her with the setting sun," Andraya explained, as if sensing the suddenly dangerous anxiety of the dragon in the room.
"How will we get in, mother?" Freyja asked, her voice little more than a squeak like a mouse.
"I have made some inquiries," Andraya stated as she turned to look at her daughter. "I have called in a few favours, and have requested that you become a Lady in Waiting to the Queen, that gives us all lodging within the castle."
"Oh," Freyja blinked, seemingly taken aback, opening her mouth as if to say something; but quickly closed it shut again, before bowing her head obediently. "Yes Mother."
"Now, I know that guards will switch their rounds when everyone of the main court goes to dine, that is our opportunity to sneak into the chambers. Another opportunity will not present itself until nine o'clock in the evening."
Unable to simply stand and talk, as humans were over-fond of doing it seemed, Smaug simply growled as he walked straight past them and headed out of the room and then out of the Inn. He was suddenly filled with an urgency he couldn't possibly deny, images of Kathryn laying helpless filling his mind, driving him to the point of hysterical panic and rage at the same time! Kathryn ill? Mad?! Had something gone wrong when she was brought back into the world? Had she had a vision, one that had finally pushed her over the edge, and he hadn't been there to prevent it? He was vaguely aware of the Witch and the Girl following him, struggling to keep up with Smaug's long strides. He headed towards the giant structure of the Castle, the spires reaching high into the sky as the afternoon gave way to evening as the sun began to set, hiding the streets of Vathvael in concealing shadows. Andraya took the lead as they approached the gates, quickly talking to the guards to let them inside – a good thing too, seeing as Smaug was one second away from snapping the man's neck for hindering his progress.
Andraya then led them through the castle, constantly on the lookout for guards and servants that could spot them as they journeyed further into the reaches of the palace where they were clearly not supposed to be. The endless corridors and staircases became a haze to Smaug, who would have usually memorised every twist and turn, but his mind was racing ahead, lost in his own churning thoughts in order to pay attention to anything around him. Sneaking through the Castle wasn't easy, Andraya having to cast a few spells here and there in order to either hide the sound of their footsteps or to place a "glamour" over the three of them, where if wandering eyes did not focus on them then they could not be seen.
But finally, they came to the final corner, and Smaug spied from his vantage point: two soldiers dressed in shining silver armour beside huge double doors. They only had to wait a few moments, Andraya counting down under her breath, before they all heard the bells of the castle toll with the hour. The guards seemed to regard the noise for a moment, before turning and leaving.
Without a word, Smaug swept past Andraya and stormed towards the doors, lifting the latch and slipping inside, Andraya and Freyja soon following, Freyja pausing to close the door softly.
"Freyja, keep watch," Andraya instructed sternly, and her daughter nodded though she gulped a little, but stood by the door out of sight should it open, her ears close in order to listen out for anyone approaching.
Smaug paid them no heed, instead he closed his eyes as he stood in the main room, with tables, desks and cushioned seats and fruit bowls surrounding him. Three doors led out of this central room, and Smaug only had to inhale to know which way to go. Turning sharply to the left, Smaug followed his nose as his heart began to race with anxiety; he could smell Kathryn, she was so close, the scent of pine-needles and clean rain, though he noticed that the spice in the scent that accompanied her magic was gone… and replaced with the heart clenching scent of death that hung over her like a vulture waiting to descend. He stopped outside of the door, the only thing that now separated her from him, he was so close he could practically taste her… but he turned to view Andraya out of the corner of his eye, pausing for only the slightest moment.
"Leave," he commanded in a hushed voice, encase any ears were within range to listen. "Go to wherever it is that you will be staying. I will find you."
Andraya watched him for a moment, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. But unable to do anything to defy him, she nodded, and reluctantly collected her daughter and left. Smaug waited until all was silent, his keen ears straining to hear any sound within the rooms that surrounded him, paying particular attention to the room on the other side of the door he now stood in front of. When all was quiet, he opened the door, slipped inside and softly closed it behind him.
Within the room, lily flowers and bowls filled with burning herbs were placed about the room, a few candles lit in order to barely illuminate the room, wax dripping down the iron candelabras, the heavy scents clouding the air enough to make Smaug sneeze. Doors that led onto a balcony were shut with heavy curtains closed in order to banish what little light remained outside; all furniture was pushed to the walls in order to make room for the bed that lay in the centre. And upon the bed, lay a body.
Smaug had seen many things in his long centuries of life; he had killed, pillaged, burned, waged war, and desolated entire lands, all for his own wants. He had seen so many things, from riches to atrocities. He had looked upon the world with indifference, deeming it and everything in it to be beneath him, all things vile and cruel he wouldn't even blink at. Now, however, he only had to take one look at that bed, and he crumbled.
A choked and strangled sound erupted from his throat, and he had to clasp a hand over his mouth with iron fingers in order seal his mouth shut and stop the noise. His other hand had curled into a fist so tight, that Smaug's blunt human nails dug into his palm so hard that they drew blood, if he had been holding onto anything in his grasp, it would have snapped and turned to dust. His breathing became heavy as his black heart lurched inside of his chest, having to breathe harshly through his nose, the sound ringing in his ears as his eyes went wide in horror. His mind refused to let what he saw alone, instead forcing him to see memories he would rather forget, brandishing it in front of his eyes so that what he saw was layered with visions of death and grief. He could not tear his eyes away though, forced to see, to witness and to mourn.
The body of Kathryn lay upon the bed, the blankets and pillows taken away so that she lay upon a mattress and silken sheet. Her ruby red hair fanning out onto the bed around her head, golden highlights that only he could see, glinting in the candlelight. Her skin was pale, not the beautiful ivory he had known, but deathly pale as if she were ill, a slight sweat upon her brow. Her cheeks were slightly sunken and her eyes hollowing with purple and black discolouration under her eyes; her soft and curved lips open slightly in order to release her rasping breath, her brow puckered slightly as if she were in pain. She lay completely and eerily still, if not for the very slow and slight movement of her chest and the fact that he could hear how slow her pulse was, Smaug would have thought she were dead. She wore a simple white nightdress that covered her modesty though left her pale arms bare, her hands folded over her stomach ceremoniously. She looked as if she had already been prepared for her own burial, the sight causing such distress in Smaug as all he could see was her on that night on the bridge, laying on his snout, feeling her last heartbeat, hearing her last breath, and her eyes… her beautiful eyes… the spark flickering and dying within, leaving him with nothing but her body as she left him in the world, alone.
"Kathryn…" he choked out as he stumbled towards her, taking in a deep and ragged breath as he collapsed by her bedside, his hands like claws that gripped the mattress and threatened to tear it under his grip as he stared at the woman before him. "My Kathryn,"
He wanted those eyes to open so badly, for her to awaken and look upon him in the flesh, as he had been yearning for the past sixty years. But his hopes were in vain, for she lay unmoving and lifeless.
"Look at you…" he whispered, reaching out with a trembling hand, the tip of one finger gently touching her hair, brushed until it was as smooth and fine as silk, and with that finger, he traced a line down the side of her face and along her jaw to her throat, remembering when he had done so before, on the day that she had left him… "All that has happened, I couldn't protect you from it, and for that I am ashamed." After a moment he snorted in pitiful self-mockery. "How pathetic is that? I am the Dragon-Dread and I am brought low by you; why must you do this to me?! I would have given you everything, the riches of the mountain would have been yours, I would've made you a queen within my dominion, I would have given you the world itself, I would burn everything to the ground so that you could claim the ashes, all of it! I would have given you all of it if only for you to give yourself to me!"
He suddenly stood, placing one leg onto the bed, feeling it dip under his weight as he leaned towards her, and slowly sat beside her, an arm holding him up on either side of her shoulders as he stared at her. He remembered when he had found her crying in the night over her parents' death, and he had curled his tail around her to offer what compassion he was able, watching her as he did now.
"I couldn't even die to be with you!" he raged, all of the emotion inside of him pouring forth into an uncontrollable tempest that would have torn him apart if he had kept it inside, so he vented it out, even if it fell upon deaf ears. "I gave you the freedom you desired, I waited, I kept my word, for sixty years! Sixty years I waited! I died and you were dying with me; and if ever I should be sorry for anything in my life, it would be for that one moment, when I brought you down with me. But we were going to be together, at least in death we would not be alone any longer. But then you had to ruin it," he hissed, his voice thick with emotion, his breathing heavy in his lungs. "You, with your stupid human sentimentality. Why did you do this? Why die for me? Was it not enough to be with me? Why leave me alone in this world when all I wanted was you?! I need no saving, not by you or anyone else! It's my job to save you, because you're mine, and always will be."
Shifting his weight, Smaug put one knee on the other side of her body so that he was straddling her, pelvis hovering above her waist, as he quickly scooped her up into his arms, her body weighing no more than a feather. He brought her up by her shoulders, until her limp body resembled that it was sitting, as he held her with one hand clutching the small of her back, and the other cupping the back of her neck, fingers buried in her hair. He softly leaned his head towards hers, until their foreheads touched, noses brushing, and he could feel how cold she felt, as if ice were in her veins that battled the fire in his. He held her there, a memory resurfacing, of her laying draped up his snout as his head lay upon the bridge, her hair splayed across his scales, his cry of grief and agony echoing through the night. Smaug remembered the sting in his eyes, one that he felt now, and was aware of the tears gathering in his glowing amber eyes.
"You were my Queen Under the Mountain…" he whispered hoarsely, his resolve turning to steel once more as he fought the urge to blink and shed the tears held within his eyes. He then slowly laid her pack down upon the bed, gently, his fingers light and tender as he made sure that not a hair was out of place and she seemed to be in the most comfortable position he could imagine, his thumb tracing over the curve of her lips, his own breath shaking with the effort to not hold her in his now human arms. He wanted so badly to have his wings once again, so that he might fly away with her, to hold her against his hot scales and breathe life into her body once more. But he only had one idea as to how he might save her, he wasn't even sure if it would work, he only had a hope, and could only pray that it was enough. "And I WILL see you returned to me once more,"
Leaning down so that he was hovering above her body, one hand placed on either side of her neck, Smaug brought his head until he was directly above her face, only a few inches away. He slowly used his hands to open her eyes forcibly, his heart giving another painful lurch as he beheld eyes of molten gold and not purple. He fixed her dead gaze with his eyes, so that he was looking directly into her soul, and even in this state her body naturally fell under his hypnotising dragon-spell. Smaug had wondered if it would work, for after he had established their connection the first time, she had seemed to be immune to the Dragonspell, perhaps it was because their minds had already been linked, so now that they were not, she fell under its effects once more. As their gazes connected, Smaug allowed his pupils to expand and become wider and wider, the black soon swallowing them both as he felt the electrical charge of his magic push into her body, struggling at first to find purchase, before finally connecting.
And with that rush, Smaug felt himself being propelled from his own body and into hers, and was soon descending into darkness.
Author's Note: Sorry that this chapter took a little longer then expected, but this week has been hell, got a couple of big practical assignments coming up in the next few weeks, so preparing for them has been manic. But anyway, I hope that this chapter was enjoyable, even if not much went on.
And someone mentioned that this reminds them of Game of Thrones, so I will say now to everyone, I take that as a compliment because I LOVE that show, and in a sense, the politics of Vathvael will have a heavy GoT mindset, but will still have the spirit of Tolkien and Middle-Earth (hopefully). So, another note, for the politics and the running of Vathvael, I would like to thank Dagdamor1 in advance for all the help and advice! :)
But please review, and tell me what you think of: The journey to Dorwinion? Vathvael City? Kathryn's madness? Oh, and extra brownie points if people can guess who the figure was in her dream, big clue in the description of the lane behind him ;) and what did you think of Smaug's monologue? I hope he didn't come across as OOC, this scene was a real tear-jerker for me, more so then the ending of HoF. So I hope that you like it.
Thank you my lovelies, I'll see you again soon and will try my best to update as soon as possible! x X x