Daughter of Beorn: The Hobbit Fanfiction

Fragmented Hope

I blinked to make sure what I was seeing was true before standing up, ignoring the waves of pain ricocheting down my back. "I was catching my breath, but I am not the one you should be concerned about. Are you injured?"

Novalee shook her head and offered me a weak smile. "I was injured before the dragon attack, Kyja. Now we must be off. This is not a place for-" her voice was cut off as Smaug's enormous frame swept over the landscape once more, rattling the already demolished houses and causing a new wave of fire to spread. Before she could respond I had taken her hand and begun to lead the old woman off.

"Perhaps we can find a boat! Surely someone will take you!" I said, flinching as the dragon flew into the top of the bell tower. Novalee suddenly released a cry as the boards beneath us, having been exposed to some flames, started to collapse. Without thinking I pushed her forward onto a steadier platform as my lower half was submerged into the water again, the burnt pieces of wood bobbing alongside me. "I am well! It- it was just a stumble." I said. I dug my nails into the stronger portion of the porch before pulling myself up, Novalee slipping a wrinkled arm around my shoulders to support me.

"Who are you that would stand against me?!" The dragon's voice bellowed.

I turned my head to glance at the bell tower, and was shocked to see none other than Bard's son standing up there with him. "What on earth is that boy thinking?" I growled. Nevertheless, I was soon distracted by the sound of voices, and was relieved to spot a boat going past us. "Wait! Wait, you must take her!" I exclaimed, dragging Novalee along. The boat was filled with various belongings along with a man, a woman who I presumed to be his wife, and a boy no older than eight years old.

"We do not have room to spare! You need to find someone else!" The man replied.

I stomped my foot on the edge of the boat and glared down at him. "I do not need a ride, it is only for her. You can make room!" I set my jaw at the sound of Smaug continuing to taunt Bard and looked evenly at everyone in the boat. "Please. One more person. Surely you can do that." I whispered.

It was either the severity of the situation or the tone of my voice that prompted his response. "So be it. Step in, then." He told Novalee. I sighed in relief as I grasped her arm and gently lowered her into the boat.

"Kyja, I beg of you to be careful. Please. For my sake, and for Fili's."The old woman murmured, holding my hand while taking a seat among some clothes.

I cracked a smile and nodded in reply. "I will. I ask the same of you." I placed an affectionate kiss on top of Novalee's hand before releasing her, and giving the boat extra momentum with my foot. Watching as the boat quickly joined the others, I stood up straight and looked in the direction of land. Getting there on foot would certainly be a challenge.

"Bain! Bain!" A child, presumably Tilda, exclaimed in the distance.

"Tilda, he is with Da! We will have to meet up with him once we reach shore!" Someone else cried out. Eyebrows furrowing, I took off in the direction of their voices only to come to a complete stop. My imagination could have been playing a trick on me, but a black arrow, shot by none other than Bard, appeared to have pierced Smaug's hide... and the dragon was spiraling down right towards me.

I didn't hesitate to start running, hopping over planks and dodging burning barrels in the process. I could feel the gust of wind from Smaug's wings against my back as I tried to increase my momentum. When unfortunately, with my bad luck, the house I was running past exploded into more flames. This caused a bit of fire to scald my arm, causing a "Damn!" to escape my lips. Gritting my teeth, I clenched the slightly burnt portion of my arm while running at my top speed.

The tip of Smaug's head crashed into the icy water, while his enormous limbs and wings spread out and made contact with the remaining houses. Bits of firey debris shot through the air and into the water as I hopped onto the porch in front of me, stumbling heavily in the process. However, I was ignorant to the concept of cause and effect. The impact of Smaug's body hitting Laketown sent a shockwave throughout the rest of the area. Therefore, it was a bit shocking when I was thrown off the porch by a seemingly nonexistent force and into the water again.

The constant exposure to varying temperatures, not to mention the injuries I had gained, were definitely taking a toll. As much as I hated to admit it I could feel my strength and energy diminishing as the seconds went by. Still submerged underwater, I turned my head to and fro and was greeted by the sight of dead bodies floating all around me. The sight of the dragon's head resting on the bottom of the lake was particularly unnerving, but fortunately I had something else to scare me out of my wits.

"What were ye doin' down there, lass? It's a bit of an odd time to go for a wee swim." Bofur remarked, having reached down into the lake and grabbed the back of my collar.

I weakly threw one of my arms over the side of the boat and coughed up a concerning amount of water. "I... I wasn't.... That d-doesn't make sense. Dwarves... dwarves h-have short arms...."

Expression softening, Bofur shook his head. "We'll discuss the bone structure of my kind once we reach shore, lass. Now come on. Up ye go." I groaned when the other dwarves took hold of my arms and pulled me over the side, the action requiring a lot of effort given my size and weight.

"Kyja!" Tilda exclaimed, resting a tiny hand on my soaked knee. Her eyes were tinted red from crying, and I shakily rested my hand on top of hers.

"I- I am fine, Tilda.... You should be proud of Bain a- and your father. They slain the dragon."

They slain the dragon. At last, those words actually possessed some truth. Smaug was dead. And although Laketown had suffered greatly in the process, this was a new beginning. They were free from Smaug's reign, as were the dwarves of Erebor. It seemed too good to be true.

Little did everyone know, there was an even more imminent threat lurking in the shadows. One that would kill just for sport, and take pleasure in the mangled screams of its sufferers.

His name was Azog, and his battle had just begun.