Final Chapter: His Last Act

'Someday when the pages of my life end, I know that you will be one of its most beautiful chapters.' - Unknown

After my serendipitous parting with Gandalf the Grey, I arrived at Esgaroth just as the final rays of the sun were making their descent behind the Lonely Mountain. I was relieved to note that the lump in my throat felt smaller and the thumping in my chest quieter as my eyes rested on those snow-capped hills in the distance. The air was growing frosty but I felt warm and giddy inside as I stepped off the barge onto the wooden deck of the wharf.

The town was slowly emptying when I arrived, the busy bustle of merchants and traders having left for the day. A few people were still packing up their stock in the town square, but the streets were otherwise quiet and lanterns were being lit one by one to brighten the path where the moonlight could not reach during the night.

It was not difficult for me to find Bard's home, for I was just as familiar with his place as my own, regardless of how many years I had been away. Time had passed but little had changed as I walked up the stone steps towards his front entrance.

I paused in front of the door for a couple of seconds before knocking on the wooden pane a couple of times, my heart thumping so hard against my chest I could hear the sound bouncing inside my head. For a few moments I felt doubt and worry sink inside of me. What if Bard had moved on? What if he no longer felt the same way about us and I was making a big mistake?

But then the door finally opened after a few more agonizing seconds, and I was greeted with Bard's surprised face. His brown hair was untidy and he was wearing a thin, grey shirt over his trousers, yet to me he was perfect. The surprise on his face quickly melted into a smile and I couldn't help grinning back as the grey eyes locked its gaze on me.

"Lari? Are you back?" He asked me as he stepped out onto the porch where I stood.

Before I could reply he wrapped his arms around my back, enveloping me inside his chest. I breathed in the crisp scent of his cotton shirt as I lifted my arms to return the embrace. The background noise quietened to a low buzz in my ears.

I felt warm inside, waves of relief flooded through my veins. I had found him. I had found home.

The night was long as we stayed up late together. Bard wanted to know where my journey out of Esgaroth had taken me, and I finally felt ready to tell him everything. I didn't try to hold back as I recalled every page from my memory, right from the moment when I first tumbled down the tunnel into the dragon's lair. I did not stop even in the parts about my mother and the confessions Smaug had shared with me. I tried hard not to miss any details about my visions of father and Addy slowly dying in my home that I had seen in the all-knowing eye, although my voice quivered and my hands that were laid in Bard's ones trembled uncontrollably. Bard squeezed my fingers tight and listened quietly to the very end never interrupting once.

"Do you think Smaug is still watching you?" He asked softly, and I felt no suspicion that he believed perhaps all this talk of magic and dragons had caused me to lose my mind.

I shrugged and managed to crack a small smile.

"If he does, he will only see how far I have come away from him. I will show him life has gifted me with happiness," I replied.

When I had finished my story, Bard asked no more questions but he held onto my hand for a long time afterwards. When we eventually decided to retire to sleep, Bard opened the door to his bedroom for me while he spent the night in the living room. I remember sleeping well that night, for my heart was full of peace and the bedsheets were warm.

The next day, we stayed inside Bard's home until the late morning, when we could no longer ignore the strokes of sunlight that slipped through the curtains of the window.

We rode out on Bard's barge out to the land on the other side of the lake, where we used to visit as children and pretend we were on a great adventure. We locked hands as we walked up the bank together towards the clearing of trees where Bard had taught me archery.

I welcomed the warm breeze as it danced past us. The trees seemed taller and lush, the spring air doing well for their deep roots and leaves.

Bard picked up a couple of bow and arrows lying beside a roughly painted wooden target. It appeared as though he had come out by himself often to practice.

"Shall we play a match?" He asked cheekily and I grinned at his playfulness just like old times.

"What is the point when we both know you would win?" I asked in a mocking offended voice.

"A wish for a win," Bard pressed on and I chuckled at his eagerness to win.

"What will you wish for?"

"I would ask for your permission to kiss you on your perfect lips," he answered without a pause although his eyes suddenly became serious and bright.

"And if you lose and I win?" I asked in amusement even though my cheeks tinted a telltale rose, and my heart fluttered like it had its own wings that were ready to take flight.

Bard turned around to gaze at me. His eyes glittered like the reflection of the lake, and crinkled into a smile that I could not help but return.

"Well, I would still ask you anyway," he replied with a sheepish grin that made my heart flutter with affection.

We played the match, although neither of us cared much for the results (the scores would have been wildly stacked towards his side than mine anyway). I had been standing under a widely shaded wisteria tree. Bard walked over and gently cupped his hands around my cheek. I closed my eyes as his lips touched mine. They felt warm on my skin and my breathing felt like it wasn't mine anymore. My body tingled as Bard stroked my arm with his fingers. My mind slowed down so that I was thinking about nothing else except how perfect the sun's rays dropped through the tree leaves, and how I was totally and helplessly in love with my best friend.

We were married shortly afterwards. It was a quiet ceremony with just myself, Bard and the town's minister present under the tall bell tower.

It has now been eight years since we exchanged our vows, and we are no longer a family of two, but of four with another child on the way.

When I think back to those early days, I find myself wondering why I had hesitated for so long.

I got lost and stayed lost for a long time before the path became clear again. Bard believes I needed to be away to learn that we let go of people because we love them enough, not because our love wasn't strong enough to hold on to them. I do agree with this theory, and, after journeys across Mountains and bantering with dragons have I finally learnt.

Years have passed, yet I am still in love.

And I am at peace.

Even before Smaug had fully awoken from his slumber, he could smell the burglar from a mile away. The sneaky, little thief reeked of barrels, fish from the Long Lake and an unusual hint of rosemary, all contained inside the earthy scent of a hobbit. He hadn't smelt a hobbit in a lifetime, and the entire situation seemed somewhat entertaining, to say the least.

"Well, thief!" Smaug growled into his blanket of gold as the hobbit scuttled across the chamber.

"I smell you, I hear your breath, I feel your air. Where are you?"

The hobbit gasped and ducked behind the pillar. The coins rolled noisily around his hairy feet and Smaug thought it was foolish of the dwarf group to elect such a clumsy and loud creature as their burglar.

"Where are you?" Smaug hissed again and the vibrations that bounced off the floor tightened around the hobbit, "Come now, don't be shy. Step into the light."

There had been no other outsider allowed into his chamber since she had left. Smaug had blocked the tunnel and melted the gaps just to be certain no other girl would be sacrificed to him. She had called him a monster for killing those children of men, and he had spent his days in secret shame ever since.

He longed to see her face one more time. Over the years his power over her had waned away, and his eye could no longer reside within her shielded thoughts. But this hobbit could bring him news of his Storyteller. After all, the creature had come from Esgaroth. He reeked of leather and bows and arrows. The stench of the bowman wafted into Smaug's reptilian nostrils and he scowled.

"There you are, thief in the shadows!" Smaug growled as the hobbit crawled out from his hiding place like a trapped, pathetic mouse.

The hobbit, trembling and shaking, did not run.

'Brave but a fool you are,' Smaug thought to himself as he watched the little creature bow down so low that his nose almost touched his hairy feet.

"I did not come to steal from you, oh Smaug, the unassessably wealthy. I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them," he blubbered in a jumble, the sweet fragrance of his lie coating each and every one of his words.

"Truly, tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, oh Smaug the stupendous-"

"Do you think flattery will keep you alive?" Smaug cut him off swiftly as he lifted himself to his full, menacing height.

"No, no..." Strength left the hobbit's voice and his eyes darted left and right uncontrollably in fear.

"No, indeed!" Smaug growled as the fire hissed dangerously inside his thorax.

He could smell the dwarves. He could hear their padded feet run across the ceiling of his hoard of gold. Anger and rage broiled inside of him, but he kept his voice cool so that he could ask his question smoothly.

"Tell me, thief," he said as he slithered through his beautiful, hateful gold, "what news do you bring me of Men?"

The hobbit frowned at his question, "what news do you seek to hear?" He asked.

"Tell me about the Storyteller. She left to be with that bowman boy. The boy who played with arrows."

"There is only one true bowman in the village whom I have crossed paths with. He is no boy but a man, and a good one at that," the hobbit answered and Smaug noticed the respect in his eyes as he spoke of the bowman.

"And the Storyteller?" He asked impatiently, "what of her?"

"If you are asking about his wife, I cannot give you an answer, great Smaug. For I do not know of her whereabouts myself," the hobbit replied before looking away quickly, but not fast enough.

Sadness and mourning flashed in the hobbit's eyes. And at that moment, Smaug felt something inside of himself that he believed to have lost over the years, change.

He heard a 'crack' from deep within his chest, under his diamond scales and steel hide. Something as fragile as glass. What Smaug heard was the sound of his heart breaking cleanly into two pieces.

"Is she dead?" Smaug asked into the silence, even though he knew the answer to that question already.

The hobbit remained quiet, his lips trembling for a woman he had never met. Rage erupted out of Smaug, along with fire and heat.

"You think you can deceive me, you thief?" He roared in fury, "Do you think you can get away with your lies?"

"I speak truth, I swear!" The hobbit begged but Smaug would have none of it.

"This is some sort of scheme hatched between these filthy dwarves and those miserable tub-trading Lakemen, those snivelling cowards with their Longbows and Black Arrows! Perhaps it is time I paid them a visit!"

The hobbit's face drained of colour and he dropped to his knees, paled face.

"Oh, no... This isn't their fault! Wait! You cannot go to Laketown!" He yelled in a desperate plea.

"You care about them, do you? Good! Then you can watch them die!" Smaug rumbled, the heat making him grow larger than ever, "Revenge? I will show you revenge!"

Treacherous waves of scarlet crashed against the walls as Smaug ignited the entire chamber on fire. He cared little for the hobbit that scuttled away frantically as the heat licked at his heels. Smaug roared and roared as molten fire burst out from his mouth without any sign of weakening. He could not stop until he had released everything, for he knew that if he did then the fire would burn him up from inside. He continued to beat down the walls with his ferocious fire, even as the gold coins and jewels melted down to a metallic stew.

But the flames eventually lost their flare. And when the fire died down to a still, Smaug found himself once again alone in the darkness. Within the final, dying breaths of the ashes, he could see the orange blood harden to black coal.

With a deafening roar, Smaug flew up through the ceiling of the gold chamber. The pesky dwarves and hobbit were already a mile away, unable to keep up with his powerful wings. He hardly had to make any effort as he bolted through the locked doors of Erebor. Stones and shards of gold flung away from all around him as he breathed in the sharp, mountain air hungrily.

As he stood for a moment from outside of his stolen kingdom, a familiar, clear voice echoed in Smaug's chaotic mind. It was a voice he had not heard in a long time, and one he had painfully missed over the years. It spoke in a voice no louder than a soft whisper but one that was surprisingly firm and refusing to be ignored.

"I am in love."

Thinking of her almost made him smile in fondness.

'Silly girl she was,' he thought to himself amusedly but he couldn't help the diamonds that trickled out from his amber eyes.

"I am in love with life, and somehow that makes all the risks worth everything."

In that moment he found himself wondering if she had ever figured out his secret. If she had forgiven him for what he had felt in his heart before it too died. The possibility that she may have resented his presence until her final breath strangely stung Smaug.

"Always my storyteller. Forever my precious," he hooted gently, soft smoke escaping from his nostrils.

'Those who love shall pay the price' he remembered the quiet words from somewhere deep inside of him.

For years he had sought to find out its meaning but then decided to forget it altogether. And now, he had finally been presented with the answer. For the first time in many ages, he felt an embrace of calm envelope around his body. After all those years of reluctance, he finally felt ready.

"And pay for it, I shall," he whispered aloud to himself as he stretched his wings out wide.

He pushed his iron hind legs against the wall, knocking the stone pillars down as he took flight one final time. He cut through the howls of the mountain wind effortlessly and began his final journey towards the city that took her away from him.

She had been his candlelight, the first snowflake that had braved the path away from the clouds. But no more. Like all other goodness and beauty in the world, she was now gone. Of course she was gone, humanity had never deserved her. And he owed nothing to anyone else in this cruel world.

All tales come to an end eventually. Tonight, the city on the lake would burn. And he would fall into the same darkness he once saw in those emerald eyes of the creature wearing the crown of gold.

"I am fire," Smaug hissed aloud at the empty stars as his wings glided swiftly against the clouds,

"I am death."

"So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings."
― J.R.R. Tolkien

Dear my faithful and wonderful readers,

Thank you so much for reading my story until the very end.

It seems so crazy how long it has taken me, and how my life changed in the process.

Thank you for sticking around and hopefully I will continue to write more stories in the future :)

With gratitude,

Little Gertrude