Smaug the Golden
"The King under the Mountains is dead and where are his kin that dare seek revenge? Girion Lord of Dale is dead, and I have eaten his people like a wolf among sheep, and where are his sons's sons that dare approach me? [...] My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death! "
The Hobbit, chapter 12 : Inside Informations, J.R.R. Tolkien
I can't just beliveed that it's being more than ten years since the releasing of The Hobbit the Desolation of Smaug...
That dragon in both the novel and the movie had a such presence, personality.
I have still a clear memory of when I first reading The Hobbit and after in the theater when Smaug finaly rise from the gold ocean. Until Bilbo enter in the Mountains, Smaug is just an invisible threat. We, as Bilbo, know that the confrontation with this character wouldn't be without any risks. A mortal danger ahead . And yet, some times, we forget the dragon... until he woke up. Smaug the dragon of tales and songs became real.
Artwork made by @lucyfloyenworkshop
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A King is a King
A White Calf gift for @babe-bombadil for the @whiteoliphaunt Exchange 2023! Happy New Year!
Rating: G
Characters: Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Dís
Length: 1279
Warnings: None
Summary: Thorin tells his nephews a bedtime story about the Elvenking despite Dís advising him not to. He is less than thrilled with the consequences…
This is also on AO3, in case you prefer to read it there:
“Are you sure they are old enough for this kind of story?” Dís asked quietly. “I don’t want the boys to get nightmares.”
“I’m no longer a baby!” Fíli protested. “Of course I’m old enough to hear it!”
“So am I!” Kíli exclaimed, scared to be left out. “I can even tie my own boot laces!”
Dís raised an eyebrow, remembering how she had needed nearly half an hour today to get him out of his boots due to his completely knotted and tangled shoelaces.
“I’m sure they’re old enough for this story,” Thorin said. “And they do need to hear about certain things sooner or later.”
“Fine, if you are sure. But you will be the one to make them hot milk and sit with them if they do get nightmares. And from now on, you will be in charge of assisting Kíli with his boots if he needs help.”
“I won’t need help!” Kíli insisted.
“Alright, it’s a deal,” Thorin said solemnly, extending his hand pompously.
Dís rolled her eyes but shook it.
“Can we hear the story now?” Fíli asked, bouncing his leg and braiding the edge of his blanket.
“Of course,” Thorin said, settling down on a chair between the beds of his nephews.
“A long, long time ago, when the mountains were younger, the moon was brighter and the kingdom of the Lonely Mountain thrived, there lived an evil Elvenking in a dark forest. He was ancient, and he thought himself wise and just, but the truth was that he was cruel and thought only of his own advantage.”
The candle flickered, bathing the room in warm light. Thorin enjoyed watching the emotions flicker across his nephews’ enraptured faces as he told the story.
A few days later, Thorin returned from the forge, his feet crunching as he walked through the thick snow that was still falling. As he approached their dwelling, he heard the sound of his nephews discussing something in terse murmurs, a sure sign that they were about to start arguing.
“I’m older, I get to decide!” Fíli was saying.
“Get to decide what?” Thorin asked, stepping through the gate.
“Uncle Thorin!” Kíli came running and threw his arms around Thorin.
“You’re back!” Fíli said, hopping down from a boulder that lay close to the entrance to their dwelling.
“I am indeed. And maybe I can help you settle whatever you were discussing.”
Fíli looked sceptical before his face lit up. “You can play him! You’re the tallest person in the settlement!”
Kíli nodded. “Yes! The tallest person in the entire Blue Mountains! And then I won’t have to play him.”
“Who do I have to play?” Thorin asked, rather amused at being able to solve the whole affair so easily.
“The evil Elvenking!” Kíli crowed. “We’re going to play the story you told us!”
Thorin choked on his own spit. “Or I could play… I don’t know… King Thrór? Or perhaps a dwarven warrior… or a man from Dale.”
“No, I’m going to play King Thrór. We need someone to play the Elvenking,” Fíli said.
“And I’m King Girion!”
“We could play something different,” Thorin tried to suggest. “Perhaps how Durin led the first dwarves into battle?”
The dwarflings both groaned.
“We play that all the time!” Kíli protested.
“We want to play the new story!” Fíli said.
Thorin looked longingly at the door to the dwelling and was surprised to see Dís standing there.
“Look, there’s your Amad! We should probably help her get dinner ready.”
Dís shook her head. “Don’t worry about that, the stew just has to simmer a while longer. You go ahead and play.”
“But perhaps I could watch the stew, and you join your sons,” Thorin attempted desperately.
Kíli looked his mother up and down sceptically. “No. She doesn’t fit.”
Fíli nodded. “Amad isn’t elf-like enough.”
“But I am?!”
Fíli nodded earnestly. “You’re tall. And fairly skinny, for a grown-up. You have less beard than Amad too. You’ll make a great Elvenking!”
Thorin spluttered.
“I told you not to tell them that story. Now you get to deal with the consequences,” Dís said in a far sweeter tone than the words merited. “Have fun!”
Thorin sighed, accepting his fate. “So, what do I have to do?”
“You need a crown!” Fíli decided.
“Yes! The leaf crown!” Kíli agreed.
They hurried to gather some oak twigs that still had the brown autumn leaves attached, and Thorin showed them how to braid them into a crown. Soon, Thorin had two leaf crowns sitting upon his head, adorned with additional leaves stuck in where the twigs were too sparse where leaves had fallen off while being braided.
“Now you’re a very pretty Elvenking!” Kíli proclaimed. “And you can fight us.”
“He needs something to ride on first,” Fíli realized.
“We could get one of the goats from the stable,” Kíli pondered.
“I doubt they would enjoy that,” Thorin interjected. “They aren’t battle goats, they’re milk goats.”
“We could build a snow oliphaunt for you.”
“The Elvenking rides an elk, not an oliphaunt,” Fíli said.
“It was an elk,” Thorin agreed. “But building it out of snow is a great idea, Kili. We could use this boulder as the body, then we don’t have to build as much and I can sit on it.”
Thorin showed them how to roll the snow into balls and helped them push them towards the boulder. He kept having to set his crowns back onto his head since they had a tendency of slipping down. Together, they shaped the head and an awkward approximation of the legs. And if the elk was indistinguishable from an oliphaunt in the end, well, it was the process that counted.
Fíli found Thorin a long stick that doubled as both sceptre and sword. Then, Thorin had to mount his white oliphaunt-elk and declare war on all dwarves that had ever lived.
The improvised sword-fighting that followed soon turned into a full-blown snowball fight, which in turn developed into wrestling in the snow. Alliances were forgotten, leaf crowns fell off, braids unravelled and dwarflings giggled.
Thorin suspected that Dís had already been watching them for a long time before she called them in for dinner with a grin on her face.
It took Thorin quite a while to undo Kíli’s snow-caked shoelaces and wrestle off his boots, but even that only dampened the floor and not their moods.
Thorin woke up with a start. He was drenched with sweat, and he could still smell the flames and see the Elvenking’s sneering face in front of his eyes.
He took a deep breath, sat up and lit a candle. Dís was right. He really shouldn’t have told his nephews that story.
Tiptoeing as quietly as possible, Thorin made his way to the door to his nephews’ room. Fíli was sleeping deep and peacefully. Kíli on the other hand was twitching in his sleep. Thorin was worried for a moment.
“Got you,” Kíli mumbled in his sleep and giggled.
Thorin smiled. It seemed his nephews were made of harder stuff than he was.
“Is everything alright?” Dís asked quietly behind him.
“I had a nightmare, that’s all. Everything is fine with the boys.”
“I told you not to tell that story,” Dís said with a wry grin. “I said I wouldn’t be heating up any milk, but I’ll keep you company while you do so yourself.”
Thorin grinned. “My sister is always a woman of principles, isn’t she?”
Dís gave his shoulder a light shove. “You’re lucky to have me.”
Thorin followed her into the kitchen and silently agreed. He really was lucky to have her and his nephews.
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