Danica Stormfighter

Chapter 2

Danica lived in the shadow of The Lonely Mountain. She frequented the Greenwood, despite the chill that was descending upon it, in order to forage for plants, supply herself with firewood and to hunt. She had a sledge and a pony for transporting her goods. She knew she could reduce her effort if she simply lived in the wood, but the Wood Elves were territorial and didn't particularly like Dwarfs.

Her home was a cave; a lovely, dry cave low down in the roots of the mountain. For more than 20 years she had been living there, where it was quiet and peaceful. The mountain was a place where she could be a dwarrow, for at the back of her cave was a narrow entrance to the mountain.

She spent many hours wandering the halls and caverns of Erebor, always careful to avoid the lowest level. The fire drake knew she was there.

The first time he spoke had scared her more than a line of armed Orcs, "Who are you and what are you doing in my mountain?" She did not respond, she simply ran away.

But, she was a warrior, and worked up her courage to, once again, enter the mountain. Once again, Smaug questioned her, "Who are you? Dwarf! I know you are there. Leave my mountain or face my wrath!"

Quietly, stealthily she made her way down the stairs, down the ramps to the lowest level of the city. She stood enthralled, looking at the enormous amount of gold before her. When the piles started shifting and the reptilian head emerged from the coins she followed the head upwards with her eyes, astounded at the beast.

"You are magnificent," she breathed.

"Who are you?"

She made a small bow and replied, "Danica Stormfighter, at your service."

"At my service, hmmm?"

"Well," she chuckled. "That's more just a turn of speech."

"A turn of speech?"

She tilted her head and scrunched up her face, "Do you only ask questions?"

The dragon laughed, tendrils of smoke curling from his nose. "You are a brave little Dwarf." He swung his face close to Danica and bared his teeth, "Tell me little dwarrowdam, what would you say if I ate you?"

"Obviously, I wouldn't say much."

The dragon cocked an eyebrow, confused by her answer.

Danica crossed her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes, "You'd be eating me; I don't think I would be doing much talking."

The dragon laughed heartily, this time coughing up balls of fire which shot from his mouth.

Danica waited patiently for the dragon to calm down. When he did, she explained herself. "Look, I come from the Iron Hills, but I was banished many years ago. I have travelled Middle Earth," she reached out and caressed the stone wall, "but I missed the mountain. I'm a warrior; I'm not interested in your gold. I just want to be free to wander the dwarven halls and live as my forebears."

The dragon considered her for a time, "You are very eloquent young dwarrow. You promise it is only you? There are no other stinking dwarves out there with you?"

She placed a hand over her heart, "By Mahal and the lives of my Amad and Adad, I promise."

"Very well. I will mark your smell. Now be off! Before I set you aflame!"

From that time forward, Danica was free to roam wherever she wished throughout the mountain, so long as she stayed away from Smaug and his horde. She was content living in her cave; she was more accustomed to having close access to the outdoors, but being free to see what her people could accomplish filled her heart with joy.

***

For only a couple of days past Durin's Day it was still considerably warm in Mirkwood. Every day the forest felt sicker; Danica was anxious to get back home after a week of hunting and stocking up for winter. She never saw the spiders, but she could see their webs and kept a keen eye out for them. Just the other day Tauriel had told her about a nest they had destroyed.

Hot and sweaty, she was piling the last of her split logs onto the sledge when she saw black smoke billowing into the sky. It was far off to the southwest; as if it was coming from Laketown. But that wasn't possible, how could a town built on a lake be on fire?

She hooked the sledge to her pony and, taking him by his lead, started off in the direction of the Lonely Mountain. As she exited the wood and came to the area known as the desolation of Smaug she could see, as clear as day, the town was, indeed, on fire. She had no comprehension of how this could have happened. However, Danica considered things carefully and thought, before investigating, that she should return to her cave with her supplies.

She looked up at the mountain and saw pale smoke rising from the great chimney holes in the mountain. Her concerns were growing. Had someone awakened the beast? Has someone hurt the beast? She hurried her pace toward the cave.

She made her way around the base of Ravenhill and around to the small bridge she had built over the Running River. As she looked to her left she stopped and stared at the open maw of the gates of Erebor. She felt her stomach sink to the pit of her belly. The gates...they were blown out! If they were blown out, that would mean...

She stood in shock for what seemed like hours.

In a daze, she continued on to her cave. She unloaded her wood supply, stacked it all neatly and started preparing her meat for drying. She kept thinking about the gate and could not fathom what would have prompted Smaug to leave his horde unprotected. She made sure she had plenty of arrows and that her knives were sharp. Once word got around that the mountain was open, there would be all kinds of folk trying to get in.