Work Text:
The Clash of Three Dragons
“I am… fire!
“I am… DEATH!”
A rumbling growl reverberated deeply in Smaug's compact chest as he leaned slightly forward, the great red-and-gold dragon gaining downward velocity as he shot fast towards the distant, wretched rat's-nest of a town upon the vast lake which glittered under the moon. His heart pumped excitedly in his chest behind his impenetrable scales for the well-deserved vengeance he would wreak upon the town's inhabitants tonight, satisfying a drive in his chest which lusted for death, fire and destruction in the droves, leaving a shadow of death upon the lake which its waters would never quite carry away. And all whom he allowed to live within these lands so close to his mountain-home would once more know why he was the undisputed King Under the Mountain, and what he did with traitors and with vermin who forgot their place! Then he would fly back home to the Lonely Mountain, where he'd left the filthy dwarves and their strange thief accomplice who'd awoken him so they could watch all their friends die in flames, screaming. Only then would Smaug end the dwarves' and the thief's long, deliciously drawn-out misery, and his unquestionable rule over the Lonely Mountain and all his sating, beautiful treasures within – every last single coin – would be re-established. Who knew, perhaps in the coming days and nights, Smaug would fly west to Mirkwood to roast its trees and their smug, petulant little elves just to be sure that all the Men, dwarves and elves didn't forget the message so easily this time.
With his size and the speed of his flight, Smaug was nearly upon the Lake-Town within a matter of minutes, the Lonely Mountain that he'd claimed as his from the dwarves more than a century ago now a grand, rocky silhouette behind him, golden light flowing from the breached front gate no doubt rallying the town's human vermin into either excitement or panic. The great fire-drake took cover among the thick, grey clouds – the weather of late autumn to early winter, the dragon noted from the feel of the temperature and the scents of the air. He was not so dumb a beast that he would just come barrelling towards the town and immediately set it on fire. No, he would stalk the Men of Lake-Town like a cat toying with a mouse – he wanted to revel in their fear and anxiety before he came upon them.
A sun upon the horizon bathed the cloudline in bright orange. The low roaring noise gave away the King of the Skies' passage as he slowly rose above the clouds; looking like a bird born directly from a volcano with his rocky skin, and orange-glowing veins along the rear tips of his sail-shaped wings trailing lava and smoke behind him. A unique feature to Rodan, unlike the others of his species, handed down to him by his volcanic home. He opened his jagged maw of a beak in a shrill, high scream, before he tucked his wings somewhat and propelled himself faster with a supersonic blast, the clouds breaking somewhat around and below him to provide glimpses of ocean giving way to land. Rodan was shooting straight for the vast, unnatural cyclone that had formed several miles ahead – a spiralling hurricane which blotted and darkened the sky like a volcanic cloud, yellow lightning flashing near-constantly within its dark, broiling depths and swirls, offshoot tornadoes crawling downward towards the ground.
The orange daylight gave way to grey darkness around Rodan, sheets of endless rain feebly battering him while yellow lightning constantly flashed, the constant electrical charge and particle collisions inside the hurricane tickling Rodan's hot skin somewhat. Loath as he was to seem weak, Rodan slowed his speeding flight, for the great alpha king Gojira's distant call hadn't summoned Rodan from his island throne without good merit. This was a battle against a monster which did not obey nature, which only knew and only cared for conquest and destruction for their own sakes. Ghidorah, the three-headed monster which had come from the stars, which had slaughtered both gods and the small ones, the golden devil from beyond the stars, the One Who Is Many, three minds with one body, a god of death and oblivion. The great alpha, the insectoid queen and others had defeated Ghidorah multiple times before, and Rodan had been involved in one such battle against the evil false god, but it always came back – such was its detachment from nature that even death's grip on it was slippery like an eel in a bird's talons. Ghidorah must have been seeking to force gods on the continent which did not align with Gojira to obey Ghidorah instead, seeking to split the gods of the Earth into two factions for war. The idea of participating in such a war frankly made Rodan's blood rush, but he focused on the present.
There. Rodan spotted the alpha Gojira, with his dark-grey armoured hide and stegosaur-like plates along his back, battling the golden monstrosity on the ground amid torrential rain and yellow lightning, the two gods equal in might despite Ghidorah's wingspan making him larger, their surrounding battleground largely levelled and blasted already. Just as Ghidorah forced Gojira backwards, its three heads streaming yellow torrents of lightning from their jaws to batter him, Rodan made his entrance in a streak of orange lava and smoke, shrieking and splaying his avian talons. Ghidorah's middle head twisted to spot him, then the other two half-a-second behind it, and they screeched the death-god's terrible, wailing war-song from their crocodile-like jaws – as the fiery bird Rodan swooped upon the three-headed monster, lava trailing from the smaller but agile volcano-bird's wings.
Rodan swept upon Ghidorah's right side, jagged beaked jaws clamping down upon the gold-scaled right neck of Ni, the most aggressive of the three heads screeching out to the skies as the two winged behemoths twirled and fought, Ghidorah's footsteps triggering tremors on the ground which were insignificant to the kings of the Earth. Big mistake – while San kept watch, Ichi immediately lunged serpent-like for the bird's exposed throat, fang-like teeth and jaw-muscles fighting to break through the tough, rocky skin, while Rodan's hooked hind-claws scrabbled against Ghidorah's scaly chest. While the two winged creatures fought, Gojira was recovering from the blast and roared his unmistakable cry threateningly.
Something suddenly caught San's attention and senses, making the sentry left head widen his beady scarlet eyes and turn his spike-crowned head, to the white light that didn't belong in their storm.
A violent white flash like a third god had arrived – in an instant, Rodan and Ghidorah had both inexplicably vanished mid-fight. Gojira stared at where the two had disappeared, his harsh and scarred face's features subtly shifting in confusion.
The blinding white flash lasted for a fleeting few seconds, electrical energy that was not Ghidorah's surging around the death-god, displacing atoms all around but not touching him. Then it was gone, and Ichi, Ni and San all quickly knew one-by-one that the single creature they formed was not in the same place where they'd been. Everything their sixth-and-up senses registered about Ghidorah's immediate environment hit them with a surge of altered information in polar magnetics, climate, and planetary alignment. A confused grumble rumbled in Ichi's serpentine neck, the alpha head with the longest horns of the three surveying Ghidorah's new surroundings – and worried for that energy surge that had transported them. Their unexpected transportation by a mysterious force had tasted somewhat of a black hole's edges, which made Ichi somewhat wary. The three-headed devil was amongst mountains that were no more than three or four times its size. The weather here had started temperature and cool, but the first yellow lightning flashed and thunder crashed already as Ghidorah's power seeped into the air, charging the atmosphere's particles and twisting the weather to Ghidorah's image. The heads twisted around with their near-identical serpentine necks that sprouted from the same torso, taking visual stock. While San eagerly drank in the unknown new terrain, Ni uttered a grumbling trill to get the alpha head's attention – Ichi turned his gleaming red gaze to where his more-useful brother pointed ramrod-straight with his snout.
Ichi growled in interest, flaring nostrils sucking in air, while Ni curled his lips further back from his gums in bloodlust. The scents and other information were interesting enough that Ichi ignored San's distraction with something on the ground. Neither Rodan nor Gojira were anywhere to be sensed, the only traces of either being what little of their radiation and scents was on Ghidorah. But there was something else, far across the flat land below the mountain range; where a tiny river opened into a large lake near the horizon, a solitary peak standing slightly closer. Another king, or at least a creature resembling one. From the information Ghidorah's sixth-and-up senses gleaned, it was small and emitted little radiation, but strong and powerful nevertheless. Ichi's scarlet eyes narrowed beneath his large brow, thinking it through, while lust for battle was written all over Ni's face.
San was in the middle of using his chin to unearth tiny discarded metal – pieces much like what the tiny ones under King Gojira and his Queen's protection made for themselves – when Ichi sharply screeched in the left head's ear to get him on-track, bringing his gaze to the sight ahead. Minds made up, Ghidorah spread his vast, leathery golden wings, yellow lightning forking behind the huge dragon-god as his central head screeched his wailing cry and the storm picked up – with a downward-pump that send cyclone-like gales brushing over the mountains' slopes, Ghidorah took off among the broiling, flashing, stormy air.
Smaug flew about the wintery clouds that hung above Lake-Town and the surrounding waters, the dragon King Under the Mountain pleased and relishing in the evident panic of the Lake-people below. He let them rush to pack their belonging and try to flee by boats, so he could bring their hopes of survival crashing down with fire and death – he would dive upon the town, letting the miserable, filthy Lakemen's pitiful wails fill the sky above the lake like a song before he came upon them for the kill…
Something caught Smaug's attention, making him twist his bloodred-scaled, crocodilian head with a growl amid the thick clouding. Something was wrong. Where a Man with their stupid, dulled senses would barely notice anything right away, Smaug could feel the changes on the air. Winds which blew in, lasting several seconds before dying, then sharply starting up again after a second like waves rolling along the sea – it was coming from the north. Smaug turned his fiery golden eyes that way, a possessive jealousy burning in his black heart at the initial assumption that another dragon could be flying south. He was the greatest dragon of this Age and one of the last (if not the last) great fire-drakes, but there were lesser serpents in the Withered Heath and northern mountains. What puzzled Smaug right away about the beating winds was the unquestionable taste of a thunderstorm they carried, and the great fire-drake quickly saw why with his shining gaze. In the north-northeast beyond the Lonely Mountain, a great storm was rolling in, unnatural-looking yellow light flashing inside the broiling wall of dark fog as it rolled forth like a tsunami. With the speed the storm was moving at, it would engulf Smaug's mountain-home in little more than the same length of time it would take him to fly between there and Lake-Town. He'd by this point dismissed the notion that another dragon were coming (for the wingbeat-like winds were much too powerful), but Smaug was loath to let anyone or anything that could pose a potential threat come near enough to touch what was his! Mind made up, Smaug twisted in the cloudy air and flew back the way he'd come; dismissing the sharp new chorus of wails that came from the Lake-Town as its people half-glimpsed his silhouette amid the clouds.
As Smaug flew straight for his mountain, eerie winds whistled in his ears, sounding like ghostlike wails, though the great fire-breather was undaunted, focusing on getting to his front gate. The broiling storm with its yellow phantom-lights was pressing forward, so large that it reached skyward from near the higher ground. The storm was upon the Lonely Mountain's northern side as Smaug increased his speed towards the entrance, ignoring the dwarves gathered at Ravenhill who scurried about the ruins as he soared past. The storm was pressing around the Mountain's east and west sides, to swallow the southern-facing front where Smaug and the gate were. He was almost there…
The great, bloodred dragon landed in a run, bat-like winged foreclaws thumping to the ground as he stood on all fours in front of the half-ruined gate. He twisted his head about, eyes shining like yellow stars as the storm pressed and rolled like fog around the mountain and around him, the unnaturally intense electrical charge inside immediately tickling Smaug's scales. The fire-drake growled, baring his teeth as he twisted his head, sharp fiery eyes piercing through the storm's fog. Smaug roared out challengingly, demanding his visitor show theirself.
THUMP!
And something huge landed in the clearing ahead the gate in reply, triggering an earthquake with its legs' weight, stirring and dislodging Ravenhill's dwarvish squatters as yellow lightning flashed. Smaug's eyes widened and the spiky spurs crowning his head shifted as he stared up at the new beast. The dragon King Under the Mountain was loath to ever admit to feeling fear, and he did not feel it now, but to say he was put on edge would be a vast understatement. The behemoth was huge, multiple times taller and wider than Smaug as it stood on two legs, vast wings half-spread, easily taking up most of the vast space between Smaug and the ruins of Dale. The behemoth was wreathed in the stormy weather surrounding them, so full details of its appearance would've only been visible to dwarves momentarily in the frequent flashes of yellow lightning, though Smaug saw better in the dark. It was like a dragon, but far too monstrous to be any natural-born dragon, or anything short of a monster born in the Elder Days. Smaug took note of two tails which swayed behind the behemoth's enormous bulk through the smoke-like haze of the storm, either tail ending in a spiky club. It had a single body, with three heads on three serpentine necks, each crowned with horns. Three pairs of beady red eyes glinted in a certain quality of light, regarding Smaug – though the necks were the same length, the central head held itself higher than the other two. That head opened its jaws, and the trumpeting cry which came out was disturbingly shrill for a creature of such huge size, almost like a grim song of death. Alien as the sound was to Smaug, he understood the behemoth's meaning clearly, the creature's side-heads adding their calls to the middle head's one-by-one.
Hunt together.
Kill with us.
Join us.
While the horrified, onlooking dwarves were going ignored at Ravenhill, Smaug curled his lip from his serrated teeth and narrowed his glowing eyes. He replied to the monster with his deeper, more bellowing and scraping roar, in the same primal language.
Who are you that would ask that of me?
Both Smaug and Ghidorah had heads pointed on their serpentine necks towards each-other, forelimb-wings spread in an intimidation display. The three-headed creature responded, different heads talking at different times, though the middle head seemed to be the creature's main mouthpiece (or the pack's alpha, the dreadful thought occurred to Smaug, noting the way each head seemed not quite in-sync).
We are…
…your new god.
Smaug growled deeply, the light of his dragonfire shining threateningly between the scales of his chest and up his neck. The behemoth before him was somewhat intelligent, and any fool could see it had most of the physical advantages. Had it said it was alpha, Smaug would have continued the civility, but god?! From anyone other than Morgoth himself, that was too much audacity for Smaug to ever submit to. Smaug roared back his defiant, challenging reply, firelight glowing from his gullet.
I answer to no such god. You trespass on my kingdom.
All three heads – not in sync – screeched back their high-pitched replies of outrage and challenge in turn, scarlet eyes glinting in the darkness between lightning-flashes. And the lightning seemed to be picking up in tune with the monster's mood, confirming Smaug's dark suspicion about its capabilities. Smaug saw the central, alpha head curl its upper-lip in a cruel, confident smirk (Smaug immediately felt the wish to wipe that look off its face permanently) as the head hissed a snakelike reply.
Then you will fight us?
Smaug growled back lowly, shifting his winged forelimbs below himself as he puffed out his glowing, scaly chest, golden eyes assessing the monstrosity for weaknesses. The creature's right head screeched impatiently, and Smaug roared back his challenge at full-volume, then bounded forwards in a running start. The three-headed storm dragon screamed back its piercing, bellowing reply, which forced the ant-like mortals in Ravenhill's constructs to cover their ears as the three-headed so-called god charged to meet the King Under the Mountain.
Mid-run, Smaug pumped his wings to get airborne, and shot straight at the abominable larger opponent, three heads like a nest of vipers. As the smaller dragon collided with the monstrosity, he rammed the full bulk in his shoulder into the right head's forehead to disorient it, latching with his claws onto the head's golden neck, jaws sinking against the scales as the monstrosity screamed. Summoning his fire's heat into his mouth to help him break through, Smaug surprisingly tasted actual gold in the creature's scales. What the storm monster had in size, number of heads and its storm, it lacked in hard armour, Smaug's jaws and serrated teeth easily savaging the scales and the flesh underneath as the right head screamed in pain and fury; while the central head lunged and sunk its teeth against Smaug's armoured hide near his back, the left head screeching in-tune with the forking lightning that lit up the storm around them. The huge golden body stumbled with earth-shaking footsteps like a dog chasing its tail as it tried to dislodge Smaug. Neither dragon noticed nor cared when one of the clubbed twin tails shattered a ruined tower on Ravenhill, sending irrelevantly-tiny dwarves and a hobbit falling down about the hills and yelling.
The central head tore savagely at Smaug's hide between his flank and armoured back, hurting like hell but barely piercing Smaug's scales, the lightning-dragon's fang-like teeth screeching like metal against Smaug. The fire-drake violently tore away a chunk of scales and flesh which tasted nothing like meat on his tongue, prompting the right head to scream. Amid the foul black ichor leaking inside the fresh wound, the right neck's spinal column was exposed. The middle head, still biting down on Smaug, violently tried to tear him free of its fellow. Smaug let the meat fall from his jaws and roared back at the head biting him, the bloodred dragon holding on with all his strength to avoid losing purchase. Smaug streamed his molten fire-breath point-blank at the central head's side, bathing it in flames. After a second of resisting, the head screeched in discomfort and released Smaug, reeling to escape Smaug's fiery torrent, while the right head's neck threw itself up and down attempting to dislodge Smaug. For good measure, Smaug swatted the middle head back with a wing-limb before turning his attention to the exposed spine-
CZHHHH!
A stream of yellow lightning blasted into Smaug from the left head's jaws, lighting up their surroundings, electricity surging through Smaug's heat-conductive scales as he was thrown clean off. The red dragon snarled as his back violently smashed into a rock wall beside the Lonely Mountain's front gate, causing a rockfall around him. Quickly recovering, fireball-like eyes glowing bright in the shadows between lightning-flashes, Smaug roared defiantly and furiously at the golden dragon-monster. Its right head was visibly wounded, before all three heads shrieked ferociously back at Smaug. Smaug ran forward, spreading his wings to take flight – the golden dragon was doing likewise, taking off with a downward-thrust. Smaug sharply arced his flight and barrelled into the monster's chest, and they hurled away from the Lonely Mountain together, disappearing from the dwarves' sights into the lightning-filled storm.
Lake-Town was in a panicked frenzy, its inhabitants rushing about the watery streets, throwing their belongings straight into boats to row away. They had been since the first earthquake from the Mountain hours ago had been followed by golden light bursting on its southern side, before the unnatural lightning-storm (which some thought were the dragon Smaug's magic) had rolled in from the north and swallowed up all trace of the mountain and then all trace of the moon; blanketing the sky in the north, west and east. The people felt the unnatural wind which mixed tropic heat and frigid cold together unnaturally on their skin and through their clothes, and the waters running through the streets went from relatively calm to unnaturally choppy – any one of those things on their own would've been a cause of alarm from the people of Lake-Town. Not long after, rain began falling on Lake-Town. Then bestial sounds had carried to the town from the depths of the broiling, flashing cloud-fog – the terrible roars of a dragon, and an intense, high-pitched sound of greater volume that could have only belonged to a demon of Udûn.
Not least among those panicking was a certain fisherman at a jail cell overlooking a watery street, screaming at the bars urgently for someone to open the door despite the rain soaking him through the window. The demonic wail repeated, and nearly everyone in Lake-Town froze and their heads shot up – that time it had been far closer than any previous sound from the Mountain. An uneasy, stupid stillness hung over the humans, as yellow lightning flashed and torrential rain soaked through their skin and clothes, small waves battering the wooden town. Smaug's raspier roar and then Ghidorah's wailing shriek preceded the two giant creatures shooting out of the storm above the Lakemen's heads, sending everyone into an intense, screaming new panic as the fighting dragons hurtled straight overhead, three tails trailing. They crashed into the lake a short distance away from the town over the rooftops.
The impact of Ghidorah's body in the lake's water, the golden dragon being nearly as tall from head to tail as Minas Tirith, triggered a swell radiating outward. As yellow lightning forked and flashed in the blackened sky, the swell went well above ground-floors' ceilings as it razed through Lake-Town, shattering weaker houses' walls whilst the sturdier buildings' withstood it. Lake-people screamed as their boats were lifted on the swell to be smashed against and through adjacent buildings, causing no small amount of death, while other hapless people in the streets were simply swallowed up and disappeared by the water.
Being in the water had sent Ghidorah into an immediate, instinctive panic, while Smaug roared with flame-like eyes blazing as he lunged for a throat again. The triplet-heads quickly got over it, for the water was not deep enough to fully submerge them. Ni lunged for Smaug's left wing, sinking his teeth into the membrane's underside – though the smaller king roared, the death-god had to work to break the flesh, as with the scales. While Smaug was momentarily distracted, Ichi lunged his jaws viper-like at Smaug's dull-gold throat and San did likewise at Smaug's adjacent shoulder. Ghidorah quickly got itself upright in the lake. Pumping its wings and stirring the water in new waves, the three-headed devil lifted off with the dragon-king in its jaws' grip – then it violently slammed him back down, sending another destructive swell towards Lake-Town. The water had doused the smaller dragon's internal weapon no doubt, as he writhed and roared furiously and tried to fly out of the water. Ichi shrieked at him, as did Ni who dared him to try it. Smaug roared defiantly – a way of making clear he wasn't retreating – before twisting in the water that was deep enough to submerge him and getting his leathery wings above the surface, beating as he fought and struggled to get out from under his foe and avoid drowning. Ichi, Ni and San arched their serpentine necks, yellow light glowing and travelling up to their mouths – unlike Smaug's firelight, flashes and blobs of yellow light flickered and rippled up and down inside the three necks.
Ghidorah lifted off on his wings, and Smaug got his head and open jaws above the water-
AAAAAAAH!-CZHHHHHH!
-just as all three heads blasted him point-black with their lightning-breath. Smaug was driven under the water in a haze of blinding yellow lightning. As soon as Ghidorah cut off his lightning, the waters closed back over where Smaug had been. In the wooden town, running small ones in the streets were glancing up at the storm-wreathed, gleaming-eyed, three-headed draconic silhouette in astonishment. Ni hissed and spat hatefully at where the dragon-king would be choking on water, wanting to do worse to him for that neck-wound (though Ichi wouldn't let him kill such a usefully nasty piece of work just yet), whilst San childishly screeched his glee at their victory into the storm.
In Lake-Town, the imprisoned brunette fisherman was emerging damp and waterlogged from the ruins of his bridge-cell which the swells had torn. He looked out in wide-eyed horror as the gigantic monstrosity wailed its otherworldly cry amid the demonic yellow thunderstorm. Then with the slowness of a stalking predator, the storm-wreathed airborne beast's three heads turned their gazes towards towards Lake-Town, looking like Ancalagon the Black had been reborn as the worst kind of demon to slaughter Men in droves. For a second, Bard's waterlogged boots remained rooted in place as primal terror seized him. He shoved it aside and, his breath panting, he climbed down into an abandoned boat and began hurriedly rowing it away through the rough waters.
Ghidorah came down upon Lake-Town.
CRUN-SHHH!
The monster crushed three or four far-apart parts of the town as it perched on all fours atop the wooden island, and the tiny ones' screams in their already-ruined nest reached a sharp new crescendo while yellow lightning flashed. The devil-dragon's central head screamed its wailing roar to the stormy sky as if in answer to the human screams (though certainly not as any form of comfort so much as to try and urge them on with their screaming), lightning like the works of Morgoth forking and illuminating the storm behind the three golden heads. The left head snaked lower and closer to the wooden rooftops like a cat hunting for prey, while across the town, a gigantic golden wing lifted almost lazily to be visible from nearly anywhere in the town, tearing a spray of wood into the air along with a few screaming, ant-like people. Bard couldn't stop himself from looking up towards the unfathomably-huge three-headed dragon frequently, its wailing shriek making Bard's heartbeat pick up in utter panic, while he ran and staggered along wooden sidewalks and under arches littered with the panicked living and the drowned; demonic lightning flashing near-constantly.
By now, the storm had formed a water-spout a distance from the town. San picked up half-a-dozen of the babbling and wailing small ones between his teeth and gums along with some of their nest's wood, then he opened his jaws to let them fall to the water – sometimes it was so cute and funny to that head, the way tiny creatures just dropped and went plop, and it was one of the few things his alpha-brother wouldn't berate him much for. Ichi screeched loudly in San's ear to get his attention, lifting all three heads' hell-red gazes. Ichi fired his lightning-beam first, blasting away several wooden buildings and disintegrating multiple screaming humans in a line, all pulled apart and gone in a blinding blaze. Ni and San followed example, firing their lightning-beams in different directions, beginning to blast the town away to nothing. The heads eagerly hoped some of the tiny ones would survive and try to flee on the water, so they could hunt them and pick them off.
Bard barely evaded a surge of concentrated lightning which cut through the street behind him. He came upon the town square, where waves crashed against shattered wooden buildings even in the confined space. One of the monster's lightning-torrents was razing a further-away part of the town. Bard immediately began searching, digging through supplies at a couple abandoned boats' bottoms and through crates on a wooden porch, looking for any sign of the weapon he had entrusted to Bain near here. He didn't know if it would be any use on this dragon, so overwhelming was its storm power, but it was their only hope.
The centre head, who'd cut off his lightning beam briefly, fired it again too close for Bard's comfort. A building not ten feet from Bard exploded in a yellow blaze along with everything else in the way, like the wrath of Eru were upon them. Bard staggered away, and he sprinted and jumped over the foamy water's swells, into a swaying boat that had been on the verge of tipping over, frantically searching the bottom.
“Da!”
His head shot up in a panic, soaked hair clinging to his face amid the rain and unholy yellow light.
“DA!” his eldest daughter Sigrid screamed from the packed boat that was rowing through the chaotic, watery street horizontally to him; human, elvish and dwarvish pairs of eyes all on Bard. Bain was pointing and yelling something, trying to communicate, though Bard could barely hear his curly-headed son's words over the crackle of the lightning, the noises of the rain and lake, and the thumping in his own ears, and he even had to blink his eyes frequently just to see through the rainfall.
“Over there! IT'S OVER THERE!”
Bard followed Bain's frantically-pointing finger, and immediately scrambled to a destroyed house which a couple boats had smashed against. He scrambled and searched hurriedly. When he found the long, metal shaft and pulled it into the flashing yellow light, a yell jubilantly burst from his chest as he held it up. Bard wasn't a man who easily cracked under pressure and wasn't easily driven to such displays, but in these circumstances…
CZHHHH!
The monster's lightning-beam hit the street the boat was on from nowhere, blinding light consuming everything from sight. Bard didn't hear his voice as he screamed, only knowing from the muted vibration of his vocal chords that he must've been screaming at the top of his voice. The monstrous dragon was still annihilating the town with the multiple heads' lightning-beams. Bard was numb, sound still didn't reach his ears – time seemed to stand still for him. Then the sound of buzzing, and his hair standing on end like during a natural lightning storm, made Bard's gaze drift – whether aware of him or not, one of the heads was razing its yellow lightning-beam through the town towards where he was. The fisherman experienced a strange moment of detachment. This was it…
With a terrible new cry, out of nowhere a glowing, red winged beast flew at the three-headed dragon and hooked its talons into the central head's double-spined neck, taking the monster by surprise as its heads all screeched, the smaller flaming creature dragging it sideways – the golden monster's wings and claws tore up more of the town as it was dragged, and made the water churn further.
Two of Ghidorah's heads, then three, turned and screeched challengingly at the airborne red creature – a bird-like beast with rocky skin, volcanic-veined wings and a fan-shaped tail, hovering in the tempestuous sky. Rodan, King of the Skies, had returned to continue challenging the god of death. Ghidorah shrieked again, Ichi and Ni all too eager to meet the challenge, as they lifted their huge leathery wings to get airborne-
With a roar, Smaug let loose a torrent of his fire as he shot forward above the lake, twisting out of his beeline as the bright flames blazed over the surprised Ghidorah's back, making the gigantic golden monstrosity shriek in pain (particularly San after the other two heads had gotten over it), the lake's waters around it turning to steam. Ichi twisted around, the heads screeching furiously as they all scoured for any sign of Smaug. Ni screeched loudly to alert the other heads, just before Rodan swooped through the storm upon them again. The bird-king was upon Ghidorah's chest and neck before it could defend itself, the force with which Rodan collided with them pushing the death-god backwards as the beak's jagged jaws were at the main head's neck. Ghidorah's wings hurriedly pumped and worked to get it into the air; Ni immediately started savaging the fire-bird's wing to try and get him off, while San twisted his head and shrieked in time.
Smaug was soaring low above the lake's waters, fiery eyes' light piercing the rain and gloom. While the right and middle heads were distracted and the vast golden wings were working to keep the abomination aloft, that left head fired its lightning-breath to shoot Smaug down – the great fire-breather banked to avoid the beam. Before the storm monster could do anything else, Smaug came upon its back – rearing and splaying his hind-claws, Smaug brutally smashed into the three-headed creature's back in the same second that the bird-creature saw him and detached. The force in Smaug's blow violently shoved their common enemy down, and the behemoth crashed once more to the water and the lake floor below, triggering yet another devastating swell which battered Lake-Town's remains.
The Dragon of Erebor and the new bird-like creature hovered together in the tempestuous sky, lightning forking as they both screeched furiously down at the monstrosity; while Bard pushed on near-mindlessly, climbing down from the tower that had saved him from being washed away in the latest swell that had only just subsided. The fisherman's muscles were working without his mind's input as he rushed amid ruined and flooded wood towards the town hall. He saw the building was half-shredded to a wooden skeleton and was sinking lopsidedly into the lake. He leapt from one island of a sunk building to another – the town itself was noticeably quieter now, whether due to most of the people swimming away or because fewer were now alive, Bard didn't know and didn't linger on it.
Halfway to the hall, Bard heard a terrible crash like that of a great wave, the distant spray visible above wooden ruins along with the dark shape of the three-headed dragon, flying back out of the lake and wailing its death-song.
Smaug and Rodan responded with their own respective war-cries against the rain and yellow lightning, as either fire-king dipped their heads and bodies into a forward-flight.
Ghidorah's side-heads fired lightning-beams at either incoming opponent on either side, though they both acrobatically twisted and dodged. Ichi waited until Rodan was flying close, before he fired his lightning-beam at close range into the bird-king's rocky chest, blasting him backward. Rodan fell towards the lake, but somehow just managed to catch himself with his wings short of hitting the water's surface. Smaug came upon Ghidorah, brutally slashing and knocking down San's head with a wing-claw, before he collided with his full momentum against Ichi and Ni's necks, which were already glowing. Smaug breathed a torrent of fire point-black and the inferno engulfing either head, agonised shrieks muffled by the flames' roar, the orange light so much less sickly-looking than the yellow lightning.
Ignoring the overhead dragon-monster's wailing, Bard grunted painfully as he dragged the huge contraption from the angry waters where only the head and shoulder of the Master's statue remained visible above water. He struggled, the foaming and violent waters at his legs as much as the storm's gales threatening to drag him away – though drowning was a death that never scared a Lakeman, and certainly seemed preferable to fire or ungodly lightning. He heaved the whole dwarvish wind-lance, as long as a man was tall, onto a submerged but solid bit of wooden platform, and he quickly got to work getting something under it to position it – it needed to be angled higher, to the three gigantic monsters that were currently duelling amid the storm.
San screeched painfully as Smaug's hind-claws dug and slashed furrows into his snout, brow and neck, while the great fire-drake cut off his fire, leaving the other two heads horribly burned and blackened and screeching painfully. With all three heads crippled, Smaug lunged with his own viper-like draconic movement for the central head's throat, intending to rip out a chunk and then-
KHHHK-SHHHHH!
Yellow lightning struck without use of the monster's mouths, throwing an electrified Smaug clean off with a pained shriek. Not a moment later, the bird-creature surprise-attacked the three-headed monster from behind, latching onto and tearing into a wing's membrane, and they twirled madly as the behemoth tried to stay in the air and deal with the bird. Smaug's spiky back and long tail skimmed along the lake's broiling surface, but the dragon-king forced his leathery wings to thrust and get him hovering. Taking a moment to let his strength and wits recover, Smaug watched as the three-headed monstrosity and the fiery bird twirled and fought in the air, yellow lightning dancing through the tempest. The bloodred-scaled dragon watched and waited, numb to the rain dappling his scaly brows as he curled his lip, then he leaned and flew forward. Just as the bird-creature kicked the three-headed dragon-creature off and the burned right head ripped away part of the molten wing, Smaug violently barrelled his shoulder into the monster from behind, the sentry left head looking ninety degrees in the wrong direction at the time – it jarred and pushed the whole behemoth somewhat. Its twin tails and half its stocky hind-legs crashed into the water before it pumped its wings to stop itself falling any further. All three heads furiously fired their lightning-beams in differing directions to the stormy sky.
Bard shoved the black arrow all the way into the wind-lance's shaft, helix-shaped arrow-head emerging from the hole at the huge ballista's front, pointed diagonally skyward. He had it pointed in the general direction of the aerial battle, but he had no way to steer the heavy, broken weapon. Stood behind the ballista, hair clinging to his soaked face, Bard blinked to get the falling rain out of his eyes, waiting for an opportunity as the clashing beasts and devil exchanged roars and screeches.
Rodan screeched painfully when one of Ghidorah's lightning-beams caught and painfully seared away the edge of his undamaged wing, reversing the King of the Skies' dive. Smaug, low over the lake, twisted and angled his body to avoid being shot down by the left head's lightning-beam, the dragon King Under the Mountain's chest and neck glowing one second before he bellowed a stream of fire upon the waters in front of him. It caused a violent upward-surge of steam ahead of Smaug which hit Ghidorah, covering the great fire-drake's approach. All of Ghidorah's heads (the scorched two unnaturally healing their burns) screeched furiously, now very riled, before San and Ichi blasted their lightning-beams into the steamy haze to dissipate it, expecting to find Smaug barrelling towards them under its cover – instead, the vicious fire-dragon shot upward into their field of vision from their temporary blind spot near their chest, hind-claws violently swiping through both heads' faces and at least one eye. It made Ni whirl his attention with a shriek back to the fire-king, the aggressive right head's horns flared. Smaug twisted his body just in time to avoid the lightning-blast the right head fired skyward at him, and dived just as Ni tracked the lightning-beam slightly in an attempt to catch him. Then Ichi fired his lightning-beam and it caught Smaug in the thickly-built chest, the Dragon of Erebor screeching in pain as it blasted him backward. He tumbled in a flurry of scales and leathery wing and crashed in the broiling shallows of the lake. With a grating shriek of his own, Rodan shot up, hovered briefly behind Ghidorah, then nosedived and tucked his damaged wings, twisting so his talons sliced painful furrows through Ghidorah's back before the bird-king shot out of his reach. Rodan levelled off low above the lake's storm-fed waters. Ni fired his lightning-beam after the bird-king, causing an explosion where the lightning hit the water, but then Ichi joined his lightning-beam and they painfully blasted the fire-bird, sending him careening horizontally. Their opponents were both strong kings, Ghidorah would give them as much credit, but what were two kings to a god?
Bard pulled the trigger. The wind-lance fired, quadruplet bowstring shooting forward. The black arrow shot whistling through the rain as yellow lightning flashed in the broiling sky…
THASH!
…and it brutally tore through gold scales and flesh on one of three neck, black ichor immediately spraying.
Ghidorah screeched an earth-shattering sound in surprise and agony, no head screeching more so than San whose neck the projectile had shot, his undamaged eye wide. Like a rotting limb dangling with gravity for too long, the exposed muscle and flesh inside San's wound began to tear as the heads still screeched, until San's head slowly tore loose from the damaged neck where his spine had been severed. The lost head fell into the broiling waters, kicking up a small spray (much smaller than the other sprays that had occurred so far). The remaining two heads took a moment to scan for any sign of their two known adversaries returning. There was none, so Ghidorah stopped pumping his wings, and dropped to the lake with the force and sound of a mountain crashing, standing above the water on his hind-legs.
Bard immediately scrambled away from behind the wind-lance, fleeing up a diagonally-misaligned set of twisting stairs into the town hall's remains, before the fresh swell of lake-water once more surged through Lake-Town and ate everything in the streets that was lower than Bard. Before Bard could think about fleeing the half-sunk building to escape being seen, a chitter-like vocalisation made him freeze and turn his head. Over a mile diagonally away from Bard, the monstrosity's two remaining heads had their hellish glinting eyes fixed directly upon the buiulding Bard had fled from the wind-lance to, lips curling above fanged gums hatefully, the severed third neck hanging uselessly. There was a pause as yellow lightning silently flashed and Bard held the god of oblivion's gaze.
Light-filled jaws opened. But the lightning never fired off, as Smaug and the fire-bird suddenly smashed into their shared enemy on either side, throwing it downward. The once three-headed dragon's full weight crashed violently into half of Lake-Town as Bard watched, the colossal monster's impact stirring up another spray – the shudder ran upward through the remains of Lake-Town and through Bard's shoes, sending him falling down.
Ichi and Ni screeched in protest, but Rodan and Smaug were restraining either neck with their jaws, holding firm in teamwork against Ghidorah's furious smashing and thrashing with its body.
KRACK, KRA-CRACK.
Only a split-second apart, Smaug and Rodan wrenched their jaws furiously, and a larger portion of the fight left the monster's necks with the speed of flame being blown out. The fiery kings let the golden death-god's broken necks drop to smash against the water surface, still writhing, gleaming-eyed heads still holding life as they trilled weakly, lying crippled. Smaug arched his neck and growled savagely over the thunder and howl of the storm, whilst Rodan spread his lava-veined wings and shrieked his scream-like roar (no so different from the three-headed beast's own) skyward, a single plume of fire rocketing out. The light of Smaug's fire shone between his chest's scales and up his neck as he began sucking in air, and Rodan turned his beady eyes with a hateful sound back on the fallen god they stood atop. Neither king noticed pure-white light was suddenly shining through the typhoon above and behind them, like Eönwë himself and his eagles were coming.
There was a slightly flash of white which consumed everything. It forced the watching Bard to cover his eyes with a forearm, and he in this second heard a high-pitched wail from the golden storm-monster and heard Smaug's signature screech. The blinding white blast faded after a moment, and Bard lowered his forearm.
Smaug, Rodan and Ghidorah were all gone, water rushing in to the vast cavity in the lake surface that the three-headed devil had left. The overcast sky was beginning to calm like a tiring beast (or a tiring god-beast), the thunder lowering to a grumble, rain lightening.
The morning after Lake-Town's destruction, the three-headed monstrosity's storm had swiftly dissipated, letting in a pale-grey early-winter morning. Which gave the more realistic and practical survivors of Lake-Town like Bard some reassurance that whatever had happened the previous night, the three great beasts were not coming back. The fisherman – now being called a dragonslayer for severing one of the golden monster-dragon's heads, though inwardly he shrugged off that title since he hadn't exactly killed the monster – sought out his family, and found his personal losses were tragically close to home. His son Bain and his youngest daughter Tilda had survived the destruction, but his daughter Sigrid had not. There was no body to bury – she'd perished in the three-headed monster's yellow lightning when it had sunk the boat, and whatever remained had been lost in the water. The dwarves who'd remained in Lake-Town hadn't gotten off scot-free either – Bofur and Óin had survived, but the princes Fíli and Kíli had died like Bard's daughter.
The following events were difficult, as Thorin Oakenshield (now King Thorin) and the surviving members of his Company quickly barricaded themselves inside the Lonely Mountain, while the refugees of Lake-Town's destruction were starving and at threat of disease, hunkering in the ruins of Dale. But on the same morning on which Bard and King Thranduil's peoples were ready to take the Mountain by force, Thorin had simply retreated inside the mountain on his own with little explanation, then emerged devoid of his new crown and robes intending to sue for peace, his eyes seeming clearer to Bard than they'd been before. Whether it was the three-headed storm dragon's menace or the deaths of his nephews that had helped Thorin break the dragon-sickness's snares, Bard could only speculate. Unfortunately, tragedy struck – foul armies attacked the Mountain, led by the Pale Orc and his son Bolg respectively. The Mirkwood elves, Lakemen, and the dwarves of Erebor and the Iron Hills came out victorious, but King Thorin did not survive. Three more members of Thorin's Company died in the battle – Dwalin, Dori and Bombur.
The Clash of the Three Dragons would be referred to in hushed whispers in later years, as no-one ever knew where the fiery bird or the three-headed abomination of a dragon had come from, nor where they and the dragon Smaug had disappeared to that night. Some said the Valar themselves had intervened to prevent a second War of Wrath by taking the creatures away. Not even the wizards who'd examined the fallout on the Long Lake could provide a straight answer, though those who'd spoken to the wizards of it got the impression from the looks in some of their eyes that they had inward suspicions.
While the surviving Lakemen were rebuilding in the City of Dale, the old Lake-Town was left in ruins in favour of rebuilding Esgaroth elsewhere. Had Smaug fallen, his remains resting there would've been enough to keep most Men and dwarves away – nevermind the thought that the storm-bringing golden destroyer's severed head might still be under the water's surface on the lake bed.
Then there was what happened with that head, which was indeed still in the lake, after.
The Devil has three heads…
The King of the Skies Rodan was not spat out to the battlefield where he and King Gojira had been, instead arriving at a territory he was vaguely familiar with (more so than that unknown land with the lake) which was populated by tribal little ones and was a day's flight from his island-throne. Though bewildered by what had happened, Rodan decided to fly back to his throne, lest any rivals try and steal it in his absence – he would only deter from his course if either Gojira or the insectoid Queen called him for some urgent matter with the golden enemy, which neither of them did. Rodan could assume from that that Ghidorah had once more been savaged and blasted back to the shadows until it re-gathered itself. The memory of its golden-scaled necks breaking brought the fiery bird no small amount of satisfaction.
Ghidorah was transported back to the very same planet it had been on before the first blast of light, the planet it had long been trying to conquer from its alpha king. Ghidorah came back crippled and weakened, but was relieved that Gojira wasn't anywhere nearby at the time to further dismember Ghidorah in its weakened state. Its wounds would heal and San's head would regrow once they'd fed on radiation. It had lost a battle, and it would seek to humiliate and torture the alpha-god Gojira, the fiery bird Rodan, and any and everyone it transferred the blame to. But for now, it needed to lick its wounds.
The planet continued spinning, the cycles of life and death among its plants, insects, the small ones and even its kings continued as many days, nights and moons passed. Slowly, new word and new communication was spreading among the kings and the small ones. A new king was gaining prominence and notoriety, airborne and fiery and dark-red but it was not Rodan. This new king drove away or slaughtered what small ones displeased him and those he allowed to live under him he drunk the worship of and ordered about without mercy. He'd even fought for dominance and territorial rights against two other kings so far. Many of Earth's older kings were mildly fascinated once they became aware this new king could communicate so directly with the little ones. He was a king of fire and wind, not so different from the bird-king he'd briefly fought alongside against the Death Song of Three Storms. A dragon of fire, Smaug.