Superfreaky
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The scene that inspired the fic. "Nice manners for a thief. And a liar." I loved Smaug. He was so badass and full of himself.
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Wow, the wind is still howling. I was laying in bed this morning hoping and hoping for a snow day, which we can only get if the temperature drops below -40. The windchill did. The temperature didn't. It hardly seems fair. I'm just hoping I don't have bus duty again today. I did yesterday. My feet were aching and I was trying to figure out why as I stood in the howling wind and then it occurred to me that they were just cold. Really cold.
I usually have warm little feet. There's only so much warmth you can generate standing in the snow with the wind off the arctic ocean tearing at you, I guess. Maybe all the cold is why I did today's 31_days fic about dragons.
Title: Burning
Day/Theme: February 27: thieves and liars
Series: The Hobbit
Character/Pairing: Smaug
Rating:
They would pay for this.
It might take a hundred years, a thousand, but they would pay. He would rise from the water and block out the sky. He would turn the lake red with their blood. It would boil beneath his wrath. Their children would be ashes and smoke on the winds from his wings. Their warriors would be blackened bones on the lake’s bottom. Their riddles would be forgotten. All they had worked for and built would be cinders.
Not yet. He wasn’t strong enough yet. The arrow might’ve killed him if he hadn’t been so blazing in his own fire. He had been raging. The air around him had ignited. He had descended on Laketown like a comet. The arrow had hit him, digging deep, a cold, stabbing pain in the midst of fire.
His heat had burned the arrow away, even as it struck. The pain of dwarf-made steel in his fiery heart had stopped him for a moment. He had fallen, from blackness of sky into blackness of water. He had screamed jets of flame, but the black water had poured in and he had sank to the bottom.
He was there still. Waiting. It took more than an arrow to kill a dragon. The arrowhead had melted long ago. The thieves would burn. The liars would roast in his belly for every bit as long as he waited on the lake bottom. He had been robbed, but he would take back. He had been lied to, but now he knew. He was hurt, but he would heal. They would pay. They would burn. Every one of them.
In the meantime, marvel at this. Mixed genres are fun! (Thanks blackvelvetclad!)
Click to viewThe scene that inspired the fic. "Nice manners for a thief. And a liar." I loved Smaug. He was so badass and full of himself.
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Wow, the wind is still howling. I was laying in bed this morning hoping and hoping for a snow day, which we can only get if the temperature drops below -40. The windchill did. The temperature didn't. It hardly seems fair. I'm just hoping I don't have bus duty again today. I did yesterday. My feet were aching and I was trying to figure out why as I stood in the howling wind and then it occurred to me that they were just cold. Really cold.
I usually have warm little feet. There's only so much warmth you can generate standing in the snow with the wind off the arctic ocean tearing at you, I guess. Maybe all the cold is why I did today's 31_days fic about dragons.
Title: Burning
Day/Theme: February 27: thieves and liars
Series: The Hobbit
Character/Pairing: Smaug
Rating:
They would pay for this.
It might take a hundred years, a thousand, but they would pay. He would rise from the water and block out the sky. He would turn the lake red with their blood. It would boil beneath his wrath. Their children would be ashes and smoke on the winds from his wings. Their warriors would be blackened bones on the lake’s bottom. Their riddles would be forgotten. All they had worked for and built would be cinders.
Not yet. He wasn’t strong enough yet. The arrow might’ve killed him if he hadn’t been so blazing in his own fire. He had been raging. The air around him had ignited. He had descended on Laketown like a comet. The arrow had hit him, digging deep, a cold, stabbing pain in the midst of fire.
His heat had burned the arrow away, even as it struck. The pain of dwarf-made steel in his fiery heart had stopped him for a moment. He had fallen, from blackness of sky into blackness of water. He had screamed jets of flame, but the black water had poured in and he had sank to the bottom.
He was there still. Waiting. It took more than an arrow to kill a dragon. The arrowhead had melted long ago. The thieves would burn. The liars would roast in his belly for every bit as long as he waited on the lake bottom. He had been robbed, but he would take back. He had been lied to, but now he knew. He was hurt, but he would heal. They would pay. They would burn. Every one of them.
In the meantime, marvel at this. Mixed genres are fun! (Thanks blackvelvetclad!)