King in Exile

Chapter 1: The Attack

[Picture from The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug]

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Far over the Misty Mountains cold...

The Dragon heaved his tail against the barricaded doors.

To dungeons deep and caverns old...

We felt the heat as fire diminished the gates of our home.

We must away ere break of day...

The doors wouldn't hold much longer...

To seek the pale enchanted gold...

We gripped our swords and prepared for the impact...

As I sat in front of Bilbo's fireplace, smoking my pipe, I reflected on the last time I truly felt safe. It was hard to believe that it was over 170 years ago.

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The year was 2770 of the third age. I was coming back from a seven-day hunting trip with the Prince of Erebor, Thorin Oakenshield. The men of Dale had asked us to help clear out their forests of wolves. Dale was a town located to the south of the Lonely Mountain, our home. The men of Dale had helped us in the past, so we had agreed to the task. The trip had been successful- we had cleared out all the wolves that were threatening the people of Dale. The only disappointing part was when the wolves had gotten into our food supply. We had had to ration our food on the second day.

Hungry, tired, and cold, we started back for the Lonely Mountain. Thorin was leading the hunting party back to the Mountain. His black hair was tangled with leaves. He was wearing a blue hunting robe with a wolf pelt coat. His belt was fashioned out of silver, and aquamarine stones were embedded in its center. His boots were made of leather with engraved ivory at the tips.

Thorin's stormy grey eyes sought me out from his place at the front of the line. "Balin, how much food do we have left?" he called to me.

I checked our supply. "About enough for one more meal," I replied.

"Good, because we should be home after lunchtime."

We had just arrived at the top of the Mountain when we felt a hot, dry wind coming from the north. The sound it made was like a hurricane. The pines were creaking from the sudden gale; some were blown down. I turned to look at the city of Dale, where the wind and noise were coming from, and I'll remember what I saw forever. All I saw at first was a ball of fire headed into the heart of the city. I expect that the people who were right under the fire were burned to death even before it hit. We could smell the burning pine and cedar trees. I heard the sound of glass and metal exploding from the intense heat. The crackling of the fire could be heard even from where we stood all the way up on top of the mountain. But the worst noise of all was the terrible, dreadful cries of the people who were being burned alive.

I finally made myself look up. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but then Thorin yelled to the company: "Everyone into the Mountain! Smaug the Fire-Drake has come!"

If you ask me, I'd say Fire-Drakes are the worst kind of Dragon there is, but I may be a bit biased. Fire-Drakes are like huge lizards with wings. This particular Dragon, Smaug, was about 80 feet long. Most of the famous Dragons throughout the ages were Fire-Drakes, and most of those served Morgoth, the Dark Lord. Dragons of all kinds have a queer desire for gold.

Thorin's ancestors had been stashing masses of gold and precious gems in the heart of the Mountain for decades, and already they had an astounding sum of around three and a half thousand tons of gold. If you take that and pair it with the fact that Thror's family- the house of Durin- was the wealthiest clan of Dwarves in Middle-Earth, it is understandable that a Dragon would want the treasure for his own. Naturally, we had been expecting an attack on the Lonely Mountain for quite some time.

We made into the Mountain's stronghold just in time to see Smaug turn away from the ruined town of Dale. Thorin ordered weapons to be brought and handed out to everyone. I didn't see how swords were going to help us this time, but I took one anyway. Thror, the King Under the Mountain (also Thorin's grandfather), ordered for the gate to be barricaded. Some Dwarves had bows and arrows. Most had swords. But I think everyone knew it was hopeless. What could we do against so much power?

I couldn't see the Dragon, but I knew when it arrived. Fire was blown on the gate. The doors were crafter from a mithril-steel alloy; they were supposed to be fire-proof. But I knew it was only a matter of time until Smaug would break in. I cringed every time Smaug would slam his tail against the gate. I looked over at Thorin. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, King Thror stood unflinching at the front of the dwarven ranks. To the king's left and right, his son and his grandson stood resolutely. Thorin had a determined look on his face. Although Thorin wasn't king yet, he loved the kingdom like his own. I knew he wouldn't let the Dragon take the Lonely Mountain without a fight. The doors began to melt from the heat. Finally, the gate cracked. There was a silence which seemed to last forever. Then, I saw him. Smaug the Dragon burst through the doors.

Whatever you picture when I say "Dragon," it isn't scary enough. Smaug had a body like a long snake with legs and wings. His interlocking scales were golden, and as the light reflected off them, they seemed to have a red glow. His teeth were as long as the sword in my hand. His claws scraped the floor as he entered the Mountain. His tail made up a third of his body length, and as it swayed behind him, it sent trees toppling over the mountainside. His wings, when spread to full length, would reach about thirty feet wide. But the thing that scared me most was his eyes. Beneath the golden color, they were almost glowing with emotion. I saw arrogance, pride, hunger, cruelty, and violence. But there was one sensation that was stronger than the others – intelligence. I'll never forget the moment he stared into my eyes. I had a feeling that he was looking straight through my brave expression to see my doubt and fear inside.

The Dwarves with bows attempted to injure Smaug, but the arrows just bounced off his impenetrable scales. Anywhere he looked, Dwarves froze in fear. He was crushing our army under his feet and burning us before we got a chance to fight. After Thorin almost got flattened by a Dragon foot, he knew it was a losing battle. He ordered everyone to evacuate. No one wanted to leave the mountain, especially Thorin's father and grandfather, but Thorin forced them outside. Looking back on it, if we had not retreated when we did, the line of Durin would have ended right there.

Once everyone was a safe distance away, we looked back. I could see fire shooting out from the exits as Smaug burned his way through to our masses of gold in the center of the Lonely Mountain. We were not strong enough to challenge Smaug yet, but I knew Thorin, Thrain, and Thror were already thinking of a plan to take back the Lonely Mountain.

A/N: And that's the end of chapter 1! How'd I do?? Thank you SO MUCH for reading! :)