Sleeping on his bed of gold,
Dragon dreamt of warrior bold;
Taking bitter sword in hand,
Warrior did damage untold.
Then, the dragon up did stand,
When he came to understand,
Missing was a cup of gold,
In anger, he swept the land.
As he came, like days of old,
Boiling all the water cold,
Dwarves, they hauled up all their kin,
But of ponies, they lost hold.
Hearing dragon’s frightful din,
By the tunnel they went in,
And then dragon smote hillside,
With fire that burnt all skin.
Then he scoured the lands, so wide,
Like a fearsome crimson tide,
Finding ponies, he ate six,
And he knew that dwarves did ride.
Smell of dwarf, he couldn’t mix,
Other smell, he couldn’t fix;
Dratted dwarves had ridden there,
With the lake-men’s helping tricks.
Dwarves were scared up to their hair,
And now they cried out in despair;
“Bilbo, foolish hobbit-thief!
Why did you steal from that lair?!”
Bilbo now said, “To be brief,
Of all treasures, this is chief,
Carrying it out of that place
Is imposs, without relief.”
“Now,” said Bilbo, stern in face,
“I’ll sit down, and try to trace
Something like a plan or two,
To get rid of that disgrace!”
Then he sat, and made up mind,
He must go on down to find
If the dragon slept or woke
(Dragon slept, if luck were kind).
Then he went into the smoke,
Dragon breath is not a joke;
But when, to the door he went,
Dragon slept (a lucky stroke!)
But as he peeped, with eyes intent,
Dragons eyelids, slightly bent,
Gave a slight opening glow,
Dragon had now caught his scent!
So Bilbo started to go,
But Old Smaug said, “No, no, no!
Come back here, you little one,
I, my coat to you shall show!”
Then, brave Bilbo didn’t run,
And he faced the big dragon;
Ring had made him quite unseen,
So he thought to have some fun.
Dragon said, “My nose is keen,
I know well, where you have been.
Tell me, who (or what) are you?
What brings you here, to this scene?”
Bilbo, he then riddled through,
Never letting name out true
(This was very, very wise);
And not saying things untrue.
But then Smaug did him surprise,
Speaking tongue of pleasant lies;
“But,” said Bilbo, “Show me, too,
How your coat of diamonds lies!”
Then said Bilbo, “It is true!
Your gold coat is good as new.”
But he laughed out in his mind,
“Master Smaug, this you shall rue!”
For he’d made a brilliant find,
(Smaug had been so very kind)
Smaug, his chest had one bare patch,
And its place was well-defined.
Having seen this, he did snatch
Every chance to go and hatch,
Brilliant plan that to him came,
During Smaug’s small riddling match.
As a parting shot, to maim
Smaug the Golden’s mental frame,
He did laugh, and run away;
Smaug’s fire behind him came.
Dwarves, for Bilbo they did pray,
And looked at the downward way;
Then they heard Old Smaug’s big shout,
And knew not - to go or stay?
But then, Bilbo did come out,
Dwarven-laughter out did spout.
But, the dragon outside flew,
And attacked the mountain stout.
Fiery wind the dragon blew,
And he blocked secret door too,
Then he flew to town on lake,
Leaving dwarves without a clue.
Lake-men did the rumours take,
Some said “Real!”, and some said “Fake!”
But when Smaug did on them land,
Warriors fighting, mark did make.
But soon, few only did stand,
And the leader of this band,
Was the grim young bowman, Bard,
Descendent of Lord of Land.
And as dragon drove them hard,
Leaving live none of the guard,
Raven came to grim Bard’s arm,
Speaking in strange tongue, unbarred.
“Look for dragon’s under-arm,
Arrow there would do him harm.”
And black arrow, Bard did take,
Firing under Smaug’s left arm.
One arrow, with all at stake,
But a great mark it did make;
Smaug the Golden crashed down dead,
Into cold waters of lake.
Thus was killed the mountain-dread,
By a man who kept his head,
And the lake-men mourned for Bard,
“Bard died fighting!” they all said.
Said a voice, “Don’t be dotard!”
Out came one man, weak and scarred;
But the lake men did rejoice,
In the night all mooned and starred.
Bard’s had been that sturdy voice!
And the crowds made quite a noise,
Taking Bard to master’s hall,
They said they had made a choice.
“Master’s bad!” they all did call,
“Master’s a cad, most scared of all!”
But Bard, as wise as kings of old,
Said “He is master, after all.”
Now the tales of dwarven-gold,
Were with newer vigour told;
As the news thus reached the wood,
Elven-king’s elves forward rolled.
And elves marched to mountain good,
When lake-men before them stood;
Appealing for food and aid,
Elf-king did over this brood.
Then he said, “Our path is laid:
It shall be as you have prayed.”
To the lake he now went on,
Elves to help the men he bade.
After days of work were gone,
They started one day at dawn;
Marching on to Erebor,
Over fen and grassy lawn.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.