Emerge the Dragonborn | The Hobbit

Chapter 2 - Dragons Demise

      The thunderous sound echoed through the skies. A fitting sound to go with the rain of fire over the village.

Smaug continued his advance on Bard.

"Is that your child?" Smaugs tongue slithered, "You cannot save him from the fire. You will burn!"

As Smaug continued to approach them an idea sparked in the bowmans head. Bard fixed the two broken halves of his bow into the walls of the bell tower, with the bowstring taut between them. He fixed the Black Arrow to the bowstring and laid the front end of the Black Arrow on the shoulder of Bain, who stood in between the fixed pieces of the bow and facing Bard. Bain panted in fear, hearing Smaug approach from behind him.

"Stay still son. Stay still."

Smaug's voice dripped with contempt as he taunted Bard. "Tell me, wretch; How now shall you challenge me?!"

As Smaug drew nearer, Bard noticed a missing scale on the dragon's chest, the one that had been broken by Girion, Lord of Dale.
A glimmer of hope sparked in his eyes, a small smile crossing his face.

"You have nothing left, but your death!" Smaug howled, his pace quickening. Bain glanced over his shoulder at the advancing dragon, terror etched on his young face.

"Bain! Look at me. You look at me," Bard commanded, his voice firm. Bain turned his gaze back to his father, trying to steady his breathing.

Bard strained with the effort of holding the Black Arrow taut, his muscles trembling from the exertion. "A little to your left," he instructed.

Bain shifted a little to his left, moving the tip of the arrow to the right, toward the spot where Bard had noticed the missing scale on Smaug.

"That's it," Bard whispered, his eyes locked on the target.

Suddenly, with a roar, Smaug smashed his front foot down, causing the bell tower to shake violently. Bard lost his aim, the Black Arrow wavering as him and his son tried to regain balance. Smaug, seeing his opportunity, advanced menacingly toward Bard, his teeth bared. Bard braced for the pain to come.

But before it did, the air was pierced by another thunderous roar. Anaynah, in her dragon form, swooped down from the sky, her eyes blazing with determination. She collided with Smaug, causing the massive dragon to stumble and roar in fury. They grappled, biting and slashing at each other with ferocious intensity.

Smaug, enraged by the sudden attack, struggled to free himself, but Anaynah's grip was relentless. She had him pinned down, her claws digging into his scales with a ferocity born of desperation and determination. Her powerful bite had already drawn blood, the crimson liquid seeping from the wounds she inflicted. Despite the fury driving her assault, a part of her was filled with sorrow and regret. This was her brother, after all.

The clash between the two dragons was a spectacle of raw power and deep-seated anguish. Anaynah's eyes blazed with determination, but beneath the surface, they also held a glimmer of the sadness she felt for the brother she once knew. Each strike, each bite, was a painful reminder of the bond they shared, now twisted and torn by fate.

"Yeild, Smaug!" Anaynah roared with a fury never before heard.

Anaynah's relentless hold on Smaug provided Bard with the crucial moment he needed. With Smaug momentarily incapacitated, Bard took a deep breath, his mind racing as he assessed the situation. The chaos around him seemed to fade, his focus narrowing to the task at hand. He had to make a choice. The smaller dragon, Anaynah, seemed like the easier target, but then he hesitated. This dragon hadn't harmed them, hadn't attacked him. Its sole aim was to confront Smaug.