Calm The Fire: 93

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A cluster of shooting stars or the brightest of fireworks could not compare to the light which came from the fire which swept over and through Lake Town. The shorelines surrounding the rather defenceless town was swept up in flames, the trees buckled and fell from the sheer velocity of the attack and the heat. The grass which sprung up limply in the first place was turned to ash and sprung up no more.

Opening his mouth as wide as possible, Smaug let fire leap up into the air as he circled the town again. The clear cold water which the people had based their life on and around was suddenly swept up in the orange glare of the fire. Flames licked up from the surface along with steam and smoke. Smaug may not be able to fully land without the water affecting him, but that didn't mean the people could get to it either to save their little homes. Anyone who was close by as the burning of the lake was happening was swept up and burned in seconds. Nothing was safe. There would be not one thing remaining if Smaug kept unleashing his revenge on the town below him.

The smoke of his fire was hanging oppressive and heavy over the town, it was so thick now that no one could see through it. If anyone was still out they stumbled through, they either fell into the burning waters or into burning boarding. Everywhere in Lake Town was practically alight. Like one huge beacon it sat burning, the flames licking up at the air as the dragon hovered above admiring his work.

He would have his revenge. He will burn Lake Town. Everyone needed to learn a lesson not to mess with him, or plot against him. This was the consequences of such actions. Fire, death, burning and then nothingness.

As if mockingly, Smaug swooped down, the sound of his wings cut through the air with a loud snapping sound. He was purposely flying through the arrow fire which still remained. He almost gave the pathetic Lakemen credit for their persistence. Did they not know that no arrow could pierce his armour?

He may not have actually given them credit for their persistence, but he gave them credit for their foolishness. Shaking his head as arrows bounced off of it, his great mouth with its sharp dagger teeth opened tauntingly, and from it came a stream of searing flames. Smaug was just seeking to set the town ablaze now.

“The Wind-Lance.” Bard said back in his house. They had been watching rather helplessly at the scene before them.

Náriel turned and looked up at him. “It still stands on the tower.”

“Only problem is,” Bofur said while standing by her side. “Smaug's firing at anything that moves now.” Which was true, whatever his great orange yellow eyes spied he sent fire towards it.

Bard looked deep in thought while nodding slowly. “Is the path clear?” His question got exclaimed voices sent up at him. “Listen now,” he turned and leant down to Tilda who was the main one exclaiming up at him. “I must go. Stay here, stay down, don't look out of the window.” Bard kissed her on the forehead before standing up. He put a hand on his son's shoulder before quickly holding onto Sigrid.

“You're not going alone!” Náriel exclaimed and turned to walk after him. He turned from the door and looked to her. Bofur and Fíli stood. Óin opted to stay with Kíli and the children. This was much to Kíli's annoyance that he was yet again missing out. Tauriel looked from him to the small group. She was torn between following her friend, and staying here.

Náriel walked forwards and looked up at him. “As it seems that it is Thorin's fate to return to the Lonely Mountain, I feel that it is your fate as Girion's ancestor to defeat this evil.” Náriel looked up at him squarely. “But, I also feel that you need help. We can find a route for you, if you can get that arrow.” Bard listened to her words and slowly nodded before opening the door. What confronted them was silence. Earlier on the sounds of terrified screams were no more. All that could be heard was the sound of beating wings, the flicking of flames and the rumblings of the dragon. Walking out Fíli shut the door behind him not before casting one last look to his brother. Kíli looked over and smiled at him. He didn't wish to see his brother leave, or to leave him behind. But he had little choice. He looked up though as Tauriel slowly sat on the edge of the bed by his side. She had opted to stay with him. And he was grateful of that.

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