Merlin's Unexpected Journey

Disclaimer: I don't own any of this

Prologue

Long ago in a land far away to the east, the like of which you'll not find today, there was the city of Dale. Its markets were known far and wide, and full of the bounties of vine and vale. It was peaceful and prosperous, for this great city lay before the doors of the greatest kingdom of the Middle-Earth, known as Erebor.

Erebor was the stronghold of Thror, King Under the Mountain and the mightiest of the Dwarf Lords. Thror ruled with utter surety, never doubting his house would endure, for his line lay secure in the lives of his son and grandson, Thorin.

Erebor was built deep within the mountain itself and the beauty of the fortress city was of legend. Its wealth lay in the earth in precious gems hewn from the rocks and great seams of gold running through like rivers through stone.

The skills of the dwarves was unequaled, fashioning objects of great beauty out of diamond, emerald, ruby and sapphire. Ever they delved deeper down into the dark, and that was where they found it. The Heart of the Mountain, the Arkenstone. Legend said it was meant only for the "Once and Future King of Albion." But Thror little heeded the legend. He named it the King's Jewel and took it as a sign that his right to rule was divine and decreed that all would pay homage to him, even the great Elven King Thranduil.

As one might've expected from all this, the years of peace and plenty weren't to last in Erebor. Slowly the days turned sour, and the watchful nights closed in. Thror's love of gold had become too fierce and a sickness had begun to grown within him. It was not a sickness of the body, but a sickness of the mind, and where sickness thrives, bad things tend to follow, and bad things did.

It was a rather beautiful day when it occurred, not showing the slightest sign or omen of what was to come. But it did. The first thing they heard was a noise like a hurricane, coming down from the north. The pines on the mountain creaked and cracked in the hot, dry wind. But it was no storm that came. It was a great and powerful beast.

Smaug was a firedrake, also known as a dragon, from the North and was as heartless and cruel as he was powerful. He attacked without mercy or provocation with his great and powerful wings, claws and fire-breath. Such wanton death was dealt that day, for this city of men was nothing to Smaug. His eye was set on another prize. For dragons who do not seek knowledge or to help their friends and kin, whose hearts and souls have become black as pitch; covet gold with a dark and fierce desire.

Despite valiant efforts to protect the city, Smaug tore through his foes as easily as one knocks down a house of cards and in the ensuring battle, the Arkenstone was lost. Thorin begged for help from the elves, but Thranduil would not risk the lives of his kin against the dragon. No help came from the elves that day, nor any day since. The city of Erebor fell and all fled. There was little else to be done, for a dragon with a heart like Smaug's will guard his plunder as long as he lives.

Robbed of their homeland, the Dwarves of Erebor wandered the wilderness, a once mighty people brought low. The young Dwarf prince took work where he could find it, laboring in the villages of Men. But he always he remembered the mountain smoke beneath the moon, the trees like torches blazing bright, for he had seen dragon fire in the sky and a city turned to ash. And he never forgave and he never forgot.

Eventually, there came a prophecy which sparked hope into the heart of the dwarves.

The lord of dragons and his dragon companion

Shall come to Middle-Earth when needed most

Though the prince of dwarves shall doubt his skill

His powers and abilities will as great as his pure heart

A great evil shall be destroyed at the hands of his white dragon's fire

The lord of dragons shall then destroy Smaug and help to restore Erebor

And thus shall the Arkenstone be given to the Once and Future King of Albion

It was a great prophecy and it gave hope, to be sure. But no one knew what a lord of dragons even really was or where to find him. So, some gave up on the idea of him ever coming, but as it usually happens with prophecy and destiny and what not, when all seemed to give up and forget, what was foretold and promised, often comes true…