Chapter 18; Games:

Well...hello?

I am truly apologetic to you all. It has been over a year since I have written for this story. Your persistence, your reviews, and the guilt I felt have gotten through to me. Not only that, but my muse returned for this story. Rather, I was able to recover what I had lost. I would have returned to this story much sooner, but the Word doc that had everything saved, and I mean everything, for this story was deleted along with the others that I had not backed up. That left one of my stories to update and comfort me while I tried to recover everything else.

I know, excuses. But I do apologize. I love you all, yes, even the ones that offer less than constructive criticism. I promise to never make you wait so long ever again, as I do truly love Raelynne and Smaug, especially now that we have reached this point in the story. So please, please, enjoy!

The air tasted of fall. True, the last vestiges of summer still clung on; leaves still green, the sky still blue. But there was an unmistakable tang in the breeze, the sweet rot of green. Soon it would be time to close up the mountain, building stones to keep the cold outside. Smaug walked about his kingdom in his human-like form, weaving through the pillars of the Great Hall, now but a collection of rubble since the first day of his rule. He was inspecting his domain, looking for weaknesses, crevasses that would need sealing if he, a cold blooded thing, was to endure the winter comfortably. The mountain could be quite unforgivable when the snows came, and certain parts of Erebor tended to freeze over if he was not careful. It was a domestic chore all dragons felt the compulsion to preform when the change of seasons came. And now more than ever it was important that he do this task, seeing as how he had his delicate songbird living with him. But his mind was not on his task, instead reflecting on his more pressing problem that, of course, concerned his songbird.

For many days now, Raelynne's sickness had left her vulnerable. Certainly, she had recovered far quicker than Smaug had first imagined, but still she was bedridden and only able to eat scant amounts. It was a slow, tortuous thing to watch. Sickness was foreign to one such as him, and it was frustrating to watch his songbird continue to be held in the midst of thing he could not dispel or burn away. When she was unconscious this feeling had been at its sharpest, forcing a helplessness on to him that he could not stand. But now she was on the path of slow recovery, and thus Smaug was becoming impatient to see her restored. While on his inspection, he thought of bringing her a little token he thought might amuse her, or at the very least himself for the time being. He had become quite bored watching Raelynne regain her strengths, despite how curious as it was to see her in this state. Could anything be so helpless? The slightest cough could nearly bring her to her knees. It was almost amusing. But this recent sickness delayed his plans. He would need her at the prime of health if he was to take advantage of the chance that had been given him. Until she recovered, all of his plans were stalled, just as he was starting to find himself all too willing to commit to them. With any luck, they would bear fruit.

That is...if the thing was feasible.

Smaug growled to himself. Of course it would work. It was determined. Despite Raelynne's doubts against all that he told her, it was all true. She was a changeling, for all her protests against such a fact. And with her blood Smaug no longer needed to be the last of his kind. Since she had come to him, Smaug was reminded more than ever how alone he was, the last dragon. She was young and strong, perfect for breeding fine offspring. And despite her shortcomings in her human form, she was more than appealing as a last resort. He had often thought her as a part of his hoard. But in her becoming more, patience was required of him. It would not yield the desired result he sought if he moved to quickly. No, for that, she would have to get stronger if she was to be his mate.

The mere thought made him smirk.

Since his learning that Raelynne was a changeling, Smaug was able to recall all he had ever heard of the creatures. His mother had taught him much about the creatures that shared with them the knowledge of magic. Most useful to Smaug was the obvious. Changelings could shift into almost any creature, and with that came the ability to produce offspring alike to what image they held at the time. Raelynne herself was such an example, believing herself to be human simply because the mother that bore her was. But stories abounded with changelings mixing with all manner of creatures, creating children half-formed of the parents, holding the powers of both. Werewolves, shapeshifters, doppelgangers, all were products of one changeling parent and some other creature. With such adaptability, she could come to bare hatchlings with not only his strength and form but her powers. If trained properly, her ability to change shape would be greater than his own.

This was necessary above all else. If she was to produce proper hatchlings, she would need to take the form of a dragoness before he brought her to bear. Then they would take the image of their father upon their birth, for certainly Smaug would not stand to have his offspring resemble humans any more than what could not be prevented in breeding with a creature who was half human herself. Therein lied the rub. For Raelynne to shift, she would need to believe in her true state. No creature was capable in doing what they could not be brought to think possible. And for this to occur, he needed her to understand, and needed to teach her what she was capable of. Her stubbornness was more frustrating than ever and not half so charming as it once was, if it had ever been. She continued for all his efforts so far to insist on her being human.

She would soon learn otherwise. He would see to it. When she recovered her strength he would teach her the magic, show her, and she would do best to learn quickly. He was not a patient teacher, and he wanted results and wanted them soon.

Too long had he been the last of his kind, the last of the great race of dragons. When she came to him, he had been given a chance wholeheartedly to be snatched. With her he would make a new race in his image, dragons borne of magic and fire. He was the strongest of dragons even when others of his kind lived, and as the last he would bring a new generation. One that would not be hunted to the brink of extinction. Instead, they would make the other races pay for their arrogance, and take all that was theirs back. The dragons were created to be weapons in war, but now Smaug planned to wage his own. He would take his children and burn the world. Burn everything. And in the ashes he would create something better.

A world for him and his kind, with him father to all, and Raelynne their mother. Whether she would be willing or not...

All that was left was to put his plan into action. But that could not be, not while Raelynne, the center of it all, was ill. He knew before he would have to be gentle with her, so as not to overwhelm her. She was such a delicate thing, as her sickness had taught him, and now more than ever she required the greatest care. She must be made strong if he was going to teach her how to change. Stronger still, if she was to be a mother. It was against Smaug's nature to be gentet, but he led himself to believe it would all be worth it. It would. It had better. His patience was coming near to an end. He was not used to waiting for what he wanted, and this was no different.

Worse perhaps, because his songbird offered no relief. Quite the opposite in fact.

"Leave! Your face puts off my appetite!"

Finding himself near to the library, Smaug could not help but overhear the commotion taking place inside. Stopping in front of the large doors, Smaug watched his terrified servant Alfrid run from the library. Following him quickly was a book, which expertly collided with the back of his head. The man fell to his knees in pain, yet miraculously held onto the platter of fruit and meats he held.

"Stupid wench." He grumbled as he made to stand, only to cower as he spotted Smaug.

"O-oh! My lord, I did not expect you to–"

"Has she not eaten yet?" The dragon interrupted. Alfrid shook his head hastily.

"No, my lord. She refuses to."

Smaug smirked. Even in sickness his songbird was as stubborn as ever.

"We shall see." While he admired the fire, he needed his songbird to eat if she was to live. He set down the gift he had brought with him to take the platter form his servant, dismissing him with a growl.

Alone, Smaug strode into the library. Despite the commotion she had just caused, he found his songbird sitting calmly on her make shift bed. She rested underneath a pile of blankets, still finding it difficult to fight off the fever that took to plaguing her in her sickness. Her skin still held a disturbing paleness to it, though her cheeks had regained something of their old color. The blaze that was her hair was loose, flowing down the back of her overly large nightgown that fell open over one of her shoulders. Smaug remembered how soft the locks were when he touched them, awaiting long hours just to watch for her eyes to open. It was pleasing, but more pleasing now was the thought of such softness changing into the solidity of scales.

What would his songbird look like as a dragoness? Small and slender no doubt, with her eyes the same opposing green and blue. Perhaps her body would be as pale as her skin or as red as her hair, either would be just as pleasing. He found himself growing excited at the thought of her altered self. Just because Raelynne was a last resort did not mean he would find no enjoyment in it. In her. She would fly with as much grace as when she danced, and her voice would be even lovelier when he would make her sing with pleasure–

"What are you doing here?" His songbird asked, turning a harsh gaze onto Smaug. Hardly the greeting he desired, Smaug set aside his thoughts to deal with the present trouble that was Raelynne.

"Why are you not eating?"

A frown deepened on the woman's face.

"Because I do not feel hungry." She hissed. Smaug felt a growl working itself up the back of his throat. He came forward with the platter, setting it down on the low table that lay beside Raelynne's divan.

"You need nourishment if you are to gain back your former strength, and that was pitiful enough." He scolded her, only to be met with a harsher glare from the woman.

"I do not want to be disturbed." She said with venom. Over the past few days her tolerance for the dragon had diminished. Apparently his songbird also did not like being bedridden, and found her being tended to even less appealing. This only served to test Smaug, in every regard. She was behaving like a brat, a stubborn unbearable brat. He sat himself down beside her, forcing her to move over to make room for himself. She did not hide her scowl as she shifted over to avoid touching him, but he chose to ignore it.

"What you wish has little sway over me, songbird." He told her as he spotted a bottle of wine open on the table beside them. It was half drunk already, and it took no brilliance for Smaug to figure out why his songbird was more brusque than usual. He could smell the intoxication on her breath. Perhaps she was trying to drown out what happened between her and the Heart of the Mountain? If so, he could hardly blame her. It was a cold thing made living that had corrupted many with its beauty, and no doubt tried the same with his all too innocent songbird. That she was not half crazed from her experience was a miracle, but she still had a long way to recover despite her own impatience with the situation. Daily she complained about her head still aching, and when she slept the dragon could hear her speak in sleep the mad words that no doubt the Heart of the Mountain had shared with her. How a stone could speak, or more importantly how she got a bottle of wine in the first place, he did not venture to guess at this moment.

"Obviously." Smaug heard her whisper. The dragon sighed as he picked up the wine bottle by its neck. Her attitude needed much work. In the sway of her still running fever she had lost all her common sense and she felt free to speak her mind. He could threaten her, put her back in her place, but that would hardly be beneficial to her recovery. For the moment he would allow her pettiness if it made her feel better. But before he had a chance to reprimand her, the woman sighed.

"Very well." She sighed as she relaxed herself into the opposite corner of the couch. Smaug eyed her as he took a sip directly from the wine he held. While he did not like most of the sustenance mortals gorged themselves on, he did have a certain fondness for wine. Of all the food of mortals he found this to be his favorite outside of cooked meat. The wine burned on his tongue with a sweetness that reminded him of his own fire.

Without a word, Raelynne began to eat from the plate he set beside them. It seemed her anger was only towards having her solitude being interrupted, and not for lack of hunger. She started with the fruit, liking them best. Grapes and pomegranate seeds were lifted to her lips and gone just as quick, each leaving a deeper shade of red behind on her lips as they passed. She ate slowly but hungrily, making Smaug wonder why she had forced Alfrid out in the first place if she was this starved. Perhaps what she said was true, that his face put off her appetite.

When she got to the meat, Smaug decided to pour her a glass of wine. There were several empty on the table, and she took what he offered easily enough, though perhaps with less gratitude than he was used to from her. He liked watching her drink the glass, the familiarity of sharing the same taste and fire appealed to him. He had shared food with her before, but now done on purpose it pleased him better. It was a thing rarely done within his own kind, reserved only for mothers and their broods and, of course, mates. As they ate he watched her every move, taking pleasure in how Raelynne paid little mind to its true significance. She sipped and bit with equal pleasure, mostly ignoring Smaug until it seemed she could no longer stand the silence.

"Well?" She asked him with a frown. He took another sip of the wine before bothering to respond.

"Well what, songbird?"

"If you're going to be staying here, the least you could do is talk." Raelynne said, her voice becoming weak. Her stubbornness, though ever as aggravating, only lasted as long as she could keep up her strength. Thankfully for Smaug, in her sickness she was easily exerted. But this request from her was odd, seeing as how before she wanted to be left alone. But she was a fickle thing, as most females were. Perhaps now she desired company, having been trapped in the library for so long now, and seeing as how it was a choice between himself and Alfrid, she made the only choice she could make.

"And what shall I talk about, my dear?" He asked.

Raelynne frowned in thought for a moment, taking another sip from the glass she held. She smiled when she hit upon inspiration.

"You already know so much of my life. My mother, sister, why I ran from home. Why do you not share something of your past?"

Smaug sneered. As much as he was willing to accommodate her and stretch his patience for the shake of her recovery, there was a limit. He disappointed his songbird by shaking his head.

"I do not care to look back. Nostalgia for one's own history does nothing."

"Oh, come now." She pouted, "There must be plenty from your past that makes you proud. Battles won, treasures gained, maidens devoured. That sort of thing."

Smaug's brow rose skeptically. Perhaps she had more wine than he thought. Surly one moment, and now acting like a spoiled child. And like a child she was trying to coax what she wanted out of him by pouting. Even her tone was coaxing, becoming smooth like when she was about to sing. Another smile broke out upon her face when she had yet another idea. In her excitement she edged closer to Smaug, sitting beside him, her hand upon his arm.

"I know, tell me of the first foe you faced."

Smaug arched a brow.

"Pardon?"

"Your first fight or battle or what have you. Knowing you, I am willing to wager you got into plenty of scrapes. Did you win or lose?" She clarified softly. It was obvious what she was doing. She had done it often enough that Smaug knew the pattern. When Raelynne could not get what she wanted from him with a simple request, she would smooth her tone and soften her look and use what weapon she wielded better than any creature he had ever seen. Flattery. Of course, just because he recognized it, did not mean he did not feel that all too familiar swelling in his chest or the smirk that turned the corners of his lips crooked as he answered.

"I won, of course."

Her smile widened, and she pressed closer so that he could clearly see the flush on her cheeks. Yes, too much wine indeed. Though that may not be necessarily be a bad thing. Quite the opposite in fact.

"Good. Tell me about it." She urged with that smooth voice of hers. To add to the effect she looked up at him through her thick lashes, in a move that was all too practiced for his taste. How many times had she used this look to get what she wanted? And more important, who did she use it on? This thought lessened the effect it had on him.

Besides, he was not one to look back on what was past, for it was useless to the present. Upon a moment of reflection however, he wondered if that not might be so pointless. It was not as if Raelynne could possibly understand the traditions of dragon courtship. Not yet at least, so until the moment Smaug revealed his plan to her, perhaps he should accommodate to mimic what she was familiar with. He supposed intimacy and the ability to impress was a common thing between mates, no matter what species. And as he had no other competing males to fight in order to impress his female, telling her, with her love of words and stories, would be the next best thing. But it was not in his nature to confide. He had nothing to hide, other than his intentions, and yet found it difficult to speak other than with a lack of embellishment.

"A fire drake. I was, oh, a century old perhaps? I cannot recall."

Raelynne nodded, taking in the facts with what seemed genuine interest.

"I see. And is a century…young? For a dragon?"

"Barely a child by mortal standards."

"And yet you killed a fire drake." She said with a lazy smile, "That most certainly is something to be proud of."

Smaug thought of this for a moment before replying.

"My mother certainly was, yes." He agreed.

A look of surprise overtook Raelynne. Smaug watched as she slowly shook her head, unable to comprehend what he had said.

"It's so odd. I've asked you about mothers before, and yet to hear you say it…it's just so…odd." She repeated with a laugh.

This caused Smaug to frown, unable to find the humor in it.

"Why should it be? Every other wretched creature upon this earth had a mother."

"Yes, that is true. But you are not like every other creature upon this earth, wretched or not, are you?" The sly smirk on her lips told Smaug that she was teasing him, and yet, he found the insolent expression amusing. He chuckled lowly, taking yet another sip of the wine and pouring more for his songbird. Its intoxication would have no effect on him. Raelynne, however, was becoming more and more liberal with her swigs, fueling her affable and delighted mood.

"Tell me something else." She insisted eagerly.

"Such as?"

"Well, what of your mother?" Raelynne asked after a moment's reflection, "What was she like?"

His mother. He had not spoken of her, much less thought about her, in many centuries. In the smallest part of his heart, he recalled the image of her. A dragoness of red, with eyes like a mountain's core and just as dangerous. He found himself smiling to recall one instance in which a dragon had trespassed onto her territory to woo her, and she, not ready for mating, had torn the unwelcomed male apart for such impudence. When Smaug had killed the fire drake, his mother was bursting with pride, boasting that he made his first kill far younger any of her other hatchlings had. She taught him all she knew, more than what she had with his brothers and sisters, none of whom his mother told him were as adapt as he at fighting or magic. His mother certainly favored him, the strongest, and last, of her hatchlings. And seeing as how he was the last dragon, her words proved true.

"She was strong and wise." Smaug spoke finally, bringing himself away from his musings, "Amongst the other dragons she was a giant of power, and for the mortals a plague. My mother earned the name Azrael, the angel of death."

Out of the corner of his eye, Smaug caught a shudder run through his songbird. No doubt she was conjuring horrible images of violence, though Smaug highly doubted she could imagine the extent of a dragon's full power.

"She earned her name?" She then made to ask. Smaug frowned in thought, wondering how best to explain.

"Dragons had no need for names amongst one another. We never quite saw a point to them, not being as amiable with one another to care to distinguish socially. But when the deeds of a certain dragon became infamous to the other races, they more or less give a name to differentiate that dragon from the others. And if the dragon liked it well enough, it would bear it with pride. A…title, if you will, that distinguished it from the others."

Raelynne's brow lifted incredulously.

"So, you chose the name Smaug?"

"Yes. What of it?" He glowered. Raelynne rose her hands in defense, her voice seeking to placate him.

"Nothing. It's a…lovely name, oh terrible and tremendous Smaug."

Smaug glowered at the woman as, again, she was teasing him. Seemed wine turned her into quite the amiable creature, as she even giggled and patted his hand in jest. She looked perfectly at ease with their sudden closeness, and Smaug took the opportunity to graze his fingertips over her bared shoulder without her notice.

"And what of your father then? What was his name, or did he not have one?"

"I would not know. I never met him, though mother spoke of him being a dragon worthy to mate with for one her caliber."

"What?" She asked in shock, "Never met him? Not once?"

Smaug had to keep himself from sighing in exasperation. His songbird's interest in the subject of his past was beginning to irate him. Next he supposed she would ask of his childhood friends or something of the like. His was not the upbringing of a human, but a dragon. Outside of the bond of mother and hatchling, there was very little interaction dragons had to endear themselves to one another. But, as she would need to learn the ways of dragons, Smaug once more tested his patience.

"Oh, in likelihood I suppose I may have crossed paths with him, there being only so many of us by the time I was born. Though I had no way of knowing him from any other dragon male I fought against once I was of age to compete."

This did nothing to dissipate the astonishment of Raelynne. If anything she looked rather horrified. She leaned closer to him, her eyes affixed to his as if to judge the truth of his statement.

"So you may have…killed your own father?" She whispered.

Smaug, noticing the distance between them becoming thinner, stretched his arm over the back of the divan, lightly grazing against Raelynne's opposite shoulder.

"Perhaps. Dragon males are quite competitive when it comes for vying for a female."

His songbird's expression of horror fell, and for a brief time she was silent. She seemed to be contemplating all he said with such seriousness, it almost amused Smaug. Her interest in dragons had always intrigued him, but now more than ever he wanted her to take what he said to heart. The more she knew of his kind, of his ways, the easier the course of things would be for her in the future. Raelynne broke the silence, and as was her way, she managed to surprise Smaug with her next question.

"A female? So you had a mate?"

Smaug pondered how much he should tell her. The fact that he may or may not have slaughtered his own father was almost too much for her delicate sensibilities. If he was to tell her that he had mated with dozens of females per breeding season, what would her reaction be? Would she not believe him? Would she tease him? He knew that mankind had a tendency to mate permanently with one of their kind, as it was with elves and dwarves. However Raelynne seemed to know the falsehood of such bonds, given her past. So, for the moment, he decided to be honest.

"It is quite possible that I have had over...seventy mates. Give or take a few." He calculated. Smaug watched as Raelynne, quite suddenly, looked flushed. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, but the color on her cheeks darkened as Smaug realized she was blushing. He kept himself from smirking, though he could not help but be amused at her reaction. For all her pretenses and how easily she batted her eyes in flirtation, she was still quite innocent.

"That many?" She gasped as she then came to the inevitable conclusion, "Then you had children?"

"Hatchlings? Yes, though how many I would not be able to recall. Most males have no part in raising the hatchlings, though we do help the females nest. But seeing as how I am the last, it hardly matters now." He told her.

Raelynne's expression changed once more, and Smaug found himself at a loss for what it meant. Her eyes looked at him in earnestness, and her lips curved down solemnly. She looked wounded, as if what he had said had in some way harmed her. Recognizing it at last as a look of pity, Smaug found his irritation growing tenfold. How dare she pity him? How dare she doubt his splendor? Him, the greatest of all dragons. The King Under the Mountain. The very one who sought to give her the greatest of honors, looking at him as if he was a lowly animal.

"The image of you as a father is quite…strange." She said, only furthering Smaug's vexation. This was not what he intended when he allowed himself to share some of his past with her. He wanted Raelynne to think of him as a potent male, as the provider he was to her and would continue to be when he made her come to bear. Not some milksop in need of her condolences. The hand which rested on the back of the divan clenched furiously, his grip threatening to break it under his palm. Raelynne stiffened as she caught the gleam of anger in the dragon's eyes.

"I am the strongest of my kind, the wealthiest and shrewdest. I chose only the best mates, gave them meat and part of my hoard while they nested. I gave my offspring every chance there was. That they did not grow strong enough despite such is not my own failing." Smaug snarled, a resentful rage edging his voice. Raelynne, knowing his moods well, immediately went to mend the mistake she had not realized she made.

"I'm not questioning that!" Raelynne assured, hesitantly reaching out to Smaug's clenched hand in placation. The fear in her was evident by the way her fingers trembled on top of his, but hers was still a look of sadness as she dared to keep her eyes locked with his. A sadness she felt for him, a feeling he wanted to rip out of her and throw away. She would feel no such thing for him, not when she should be basking in the fate he had deemed for her. Sadness and pity had no place in Smaug's world, and that she viewed him with such only could mean in his mind that she saw him as an inferior being.

"I am hardly one to talk on such matters. Please, I meant no offense." With her apology, Raelynne then lowered her face to their entwined hands in supplication. Her bold action caused Smaug to still himself. Her cheek was quite warm against his flesh, flushed with the effects of the wine, and Smaug wondered if this display was more for his sake or hers. But as she then moved to raise her head, her lips by accident grazed the tops of his knuckles, their softness and warmth overwhelming him. He persuaded himself out of his own anger, not wanting to risk his displeasure having consequences on his songbird's already fragile state. If she was in future to trust herself over to him, she must be assured that she would be safe within his presence. To an extent. He would find a suitable enough punishment once she was fully recovered.

"I never imagined what it would be like to be a mother myself." Started Raelynne, letting go of Smaug's hand in favor of reaching for more wine, "The thought never really crossed my mind. And being here…well, I suppose it doesn't matter now."

Hearing her sigh, Smaug was brought back to his original intention. He did not wish her to be wistful for life outside of his domain. And certainly he did not want her to remain under the impression that she was to always remain a maid. This delicate problem that was Raelynne would take more work than Smaug originally imagined. But for now, it looked as if Raelynne had no more questions for him. In the silence Smaug remembered his original purpose in coming here before he saw Raelynne's assault on Alfrid.

"I have something for you." He told her before standing from the divan. His songbird watched him as he went back to the entrance of the library where he had set the thing. Coming back, he presented it to the woman with both hands. It was a lute, gold plated in the front and carved from rich cherrywood. The dwarves prided themselves on making everything they owned as beautiful as they could. The same went for musical instruments.

"A lute? For me?" Raelynne stood as Smaug approached, clearly surprised.

"Of course. I hardly have a use for it." Smaug smirked, causing Raelynne to giggle foolishly. It was such a lovely sound on the rare occasion she made it. She reached to reverently stoke the instrument he held, as if she was afraid of breaking it. She shook her head, becoming confused.

"Thank you, truly. But…why?"

"Must there be a reason?" Smaug easily deflected. He needed her to accept the gift. If she was to grab it from his hands, then it would be enough. The instincts in his blood sang, wanting her to snatch from him in greed. They had shared a meal, and now, as a male, he was presenting her with a gift. If she took it, if she added it to her own little hoard of instruments, then it would be in accordance to dragon courtship. True, his little songbird could not possibly know the reasons behind his actions, but nevertheless, if she played the part of the female then she would be walking down the path he intended to take her.

"I have not played one so extravagant before. I hope the gold does not affect the chamber…" She mused, moving her hand to touch the short neck of the instrument.

"One way to know for certain."

"I thought I was supposed to be resting?" Raelynne rose an incredulous brow at him. She sensed he had a motivation, but clearly she could not identify it. But the wine and her fever lowered her defenses, and Smaug smirked wider as she finally took the musical instrument from him. She cradled the thing, placing her fingers on the strings and giving them an experimental pluck. She smiled as they produced a lovely sound.

"Come now," Purred Smaug, "I think we can afford a little…indulgence."

~o:0:o:~

The hangover Raelynne had the morning after her evening conversing with Smaug left her worse for wear. Never had she drunk so much, having drowned nearly a whole bottle by herself. True, Smaug had taken some of it, but he was not a lightweight such as herself apparently as he seemed unaffected when he woke her. Suffice to say she was even worse company than the night before, her head ringing out in protest to the after effects of both the Arkenstone and the alcohol.

That she survived the experience was just as much a miracle as her test against madness, neither something she ever wished to repeat for as long as she lived. She had only wished to stave off the oppressing gloom that had clung to her since her experience in the vault, wanting to be free of the images it swarmed in her mind. The dream of her father and the whole notion of changelings and so called slyphs. And, worst of all...the voice that entered in her sleep.

She had so many things she wanted to drown out, so she very foolishly chose wine as her means to do so, diving into the supply she had found one day in the kitchen stores. She swore then and there to never touch another drop as long as she lived.

Over the next week Raelynne continued her prescribed mending. Outside of her headache she felt fine after her hangover abated, but Smaug was having none of that. Worse than any healer or nursemaid, he forced her to rest, eat, and repeat. The feeling of her cage grew smaller and smaller with each passing day she was forced to stay in the library. A routine was set for her by the dragon himself. In the morning, he would bring her breakfast and stay with her to ensure she ate it all, something Raelynne found infinitely aggravating and patronizing. Then Smaug would either leave to hunt for himself or stay and talk with Raelynne depending on their moods.

Whenever they talked, Raelynne could not help but notice things were...less formal between the two of them. She could not exactly put it into words, but the dragon seemed to be willing to listen to anything she had to say. Often times he would even reciprocate and talk about things they had never touched on before; how he hunted, foes he had killed, and even what had occurred the day he took Erebor. How he boasted about all of these things sent shudders through Raelynne. The blood he proudly spilled, the corpses he made, she could not help but think of them when he talked of such things. And yet, she was fascinated by his stories. As an entertainer how could she not? She knew well and good the only stories worth telling to a crowd had to have either tragic lovers or much bloodshed, and Smaug's stories had plenty of the latter.

But why did he talk of these things now? Why bother to share them with her? After all, she was just his songbird, not his friend or family. A pet, nothing more. Then why? Was it to impress her? To frighten her? To simply talk with her? It was almost as if something unspoken occurred between the two of them that night he told her of his past, something that made Smaug want to absolve himself to her. Perhaps it was her, when she showed him something she never, even in her worst dreams, thought she would ever feel for the dragon.

Pity. The most horrible of four letter words beside 'love'. She had felt such sadness for the dragon when he told her of his mother, his mates, his...children. Even now, knowing that Smaug had no reason to lie to her, Raelynne could not really bring herself to see Smaug as a father in any respect. And yet, he had been, once. Raelynne could not imagine his loss, being the last of his kind, faced with promise of extinction and loneliness every waking moment. It surprised her more that she still felt the same. It welled up in her, like some awful malignancy. It tainted her hatred for the dragon, dimming it against her will, this and her confusion of his delicate care.

His tending to her, his stories, they only served to perplex Raelynne. Never had he shown such care and gentleness towards her. The nights she had been swept up in her fever, she could recall the sensation of warmth and tenderness in his arms. He held her, fed her, spoke with her. It was almost as if, in some black twisted way he cared for her. Was this the only way a dragon could show kindness? Was it kindness, or simply his diligent tending to his property? Raelynne kept assuring herself that the dragon only did these things out of selfishness for what he viewed as his, but some niggling doubt had crept into her. Something that whispered a most forbidden thought. One she would never allow to come to the surface of her mind. It had been there when she first awoke from her nightmare, and was there every time she fell to sleep since. A voice, her name, and the hope she had felt when it called to her. Not even the madness of the Arkenstone could keep her from answering when he called her out of the darkness…

By Eru, she could use a drink.

Even if she had not sworn herself off of wine, the dragon would hardly allow her to have any. He hardly allowed her to sit up from the divan. Raelynne practically felt smothered by his presence, which did nothing to help keep her confusion and doubts away. The only times she was allowed out was when she needed to bathe or go to the lavatory. On several occasions she attempted to sneak out, wanting to stretch her legs, but every time she was discovered by Smaug who would force her back into the library. He saw fit then to remain with her there, watching her as if he half expected her to faint at any moment. It drove Raelynne to the point of madness, something she was more familiar with than she ever wished to be. All she wanted was some fresh air and some solitude, but the dragon was set on denying her both until he was certain she was recovered. And in her opinion she was, as fit as a fiddle in fact. After the tenth day of her recuperation she felt entirely restored, and yet the dragon would not let her be.

She decided to risk doing something about it.

Slipping into one of her elven dresses, the blue one, she left the library. She needed to get out of there, even if just for a moment. And, knowing that Smuag was with his hoard, she went there. He had left her to go counting some time ago. She would show him she was fit as a fiddle now. With her health recovering, so too was her experience with the Arkenstone becoming less of a horror and more of a curiosity. What the Arkenstone had told her and what her father spoke of sounded like an impossible riddle. She had run it through her mind and yet she could find no answer. She wasn't certain if she really wanted to, but her curiosity grew with every day. And that was why she needed to do something. Anything. She wanted to distract herself, and the dragon was the only way she knew how to at this moment.

"Good morning master." She chirped as she made it into the vault of treasure. The dragon was nowhere to be seen, but Raelynne knew he was here somewhere. Walking over the beds of coins, she saw one of them shift as an eye emerged to stare at her.

"You are misguided songbird, it is past noon." He was glaring at her. No doubt he had heard her coming long before she arrived and he looked annoyed.

"Is it?" Raelynne laughed, "It is so hard to tell here. I'm afraid you're turning me into a nocturnal creature."

The dragon shifted more, and his whole head rose from the sea of gold and jewels. Raelynne knew to keep her distance, but still she had to duck to avoid a few coins from striking her.

"Is there a reason for your coming here? You are supposed to be resting." Smaug frowned, breathing out a heavy sigh of frustration. They have had this discussion a dozen times, but Raelynne was hoping she could win him over with one more.

"I've rested enough. I'm going mad in that room. And now that I have known actual madness I can say it truthfully." Raelynne tried to tease, but what she said was not humorous even to her. She quickly pressed on before the dragon could comment.

"I thought you might would want me to sing."

The dragon shook his great head. "Not this day."

Raelynne felt disappointed. She hoped if she could convince the dragon to let her preform then he would see for himself how much better she was. A little song, a little dance, she could show him that she was fully restored. Physically at least. The reproachful look the dragon was giving her was not enough to quell her, and stubbornly, and perhaps foolishly, Raelynne sat down on the mound of coins she was perched on.

"Well, I'm not going back to that damn library. I'm sick of it." She seethed. Raelynne was a traveling minstrel. The idea of being stuck anywhere for any length of time was repellent to her. And though she had, unfortunately, been forced to learn to remain here in this mountain, staying in one room for so long was a far worse torture to her now. She knew what would happen the moment she went back, she would sit and try to read or play her instruments and her thoughts would wonder despite her efforts. And if she went to sleep...well. Despite the dragon's odd new habits and his tending to her, Raelynne knew that she preferred to be near him than alone right now. She'd almost prefer Alfrid than being alone. Almost.

The dragon watched her this whole time as she debated and scowled to herself. He was looking her over though she was clearly ignoring him. After a moment she could hear him huff a sigh, forcing her to look up at him.

"Then come with me."

Raelynne frowned, but quickly had to act when Smaug emerged himself fully from the bed of coins he had buried himself under. Scrambling she ran as far as she could, quickly feeling herself losing breath. Perhaps she was not as recovered as she argued. When she had pressed herself to the edge of a column for protection Smaug had cleared himself. Carefully she peered around it to make certain it was now safe and saw dragon approaching her.

"To where?"

The dragon gave her an amused look and simply strode past her. Raelynne was forced to follow after his wake, careful not to get struck by his tail.

"Fine. Do not tell me." She muttered, but she knew that the dragon could hear her. She was really pushing her luck speaking to him thus. The dragon had given her a lot of liberties while she had been recovering, she knew this, but she also knew it would not last for much longer. If anything he was probably thinking of some way to punish her for her impudence lately. But she did not care, she simply wanted to enjoy whatever distraction he was taking her to. She swore, tomorrow she would be more careful in regards to her life.

Following after the dragon in his true form was difficult to say the least. He moved exceedingly slow for himself and yet still Raelynne struggled to keep up. It was rather pathetic really. She almost wished he would transform into his human form. But then, she still preferred him as a dragon, because that was what he was. As a man he only confused her, especially when he wrapped his arms around her and held her...

Soon she recognized where he was leading her. The tear in the mountain where he would take off to fly, and she felt hope rise in her like a second heartbeat.

"What are we doing here?" She asked when she caught up and stood with the dragon at the edge, "Are you taking me outside again? To the lake?"

"No. But I believe it will do you well to spend a little time in the fresh air." The dragon told her. Raelynne could not find herself to be very disappointed though as the view was as beautiful as she last remembered it. It was cloudy, and she did not mind as the natural light then did not hurt her eyes. She looked out at the forest that surrounded this side of the mountain. She could almost imagine she saw the reflection of the lake in the distance, but this was perhaps wishful thinking. It was so beautiful, even if she could not go out today. In his way the dragon was right, she needed the fresh air. She needed the sun and the clouds and cold wind that caressed her and made her shiver with delight.

The dragon, seeing his, lowered his head to be nearer to Raelynne. She noticed how the air around her heated up from his body.

"It is autumn. I am afraid songbird that we will not be making many more trips to the lake."

"Autumn…" Raelynne thought grimly, "I've been here more than half a year."

"Yes, and the winter will be harsh for you in the mountain.

Raelynne could not take it any longer. She had been bold lately, but she wondered if she was really bold enough for what she was about to ask him. Only one way to discover.

"Why are you so concerned about my well-being?"

"You are my possession." The dragon started, "Why would I not–"

Raelynne would not let him continue, refusing to hear that line again. "Yes, but why the dresses? The necklace? The lute? And you…you took care of me when I became sick."

The dragon drew his head closer, his eye so close to her she could she herself reflected in it. A low growl was coming from him and Raelynne knew she crossed that thin line that was the dragon's patience. But she had to know. She had to know what kind of game he was playing with her now. She had enough of games and riddles, especially after what happened to her in the Arkenstone. No more. Was he trying to win her over like she had thought to do him? Wrap her around his claws with his cruel tenderness and concern? With his gifts? Why? He had won her pity already. Did he really need her to start to care for him too, even though she–

No! Never say that! Never think that! Raelynne screamed in her mind.

But it was too late. As much as Raelynne did not wish to think of what occurred to her in the Arkenstone, it was this fact and this alone that disturbed her far more than anything else: His voice had brought her back from the darkness. His voice. He brought her back. And she did not know how to feel about this. The words of her father confused her. The story of the sylphs and changelings made her doubt. But that the dragon had rescued her, that he had only to speak her name to have her run to him, troubled her more. She felt almost guilty to think it, but it was true. The dragon rescued her from the worst of nightmares and now, every time she went to sleep, she heard his voice still. That firm, intimate tone that lulled her to sleep, assuring her that she would wake up again no matter what lay in wait in her nightmares...

"Would you have rather remained in your state of madness? Pathetic and unable to awaken?" The dragon seethed, and Raelynne drew her attention back onto him.

"No…"

"Then perhaps you should not question my reasons but simply be grateful." He growled, the warning clear in his voice. Raelynne felt like laughing, but the sound she made was hollow.

"You're right." She smiled and curtseyed, "Thank you, Smaug."

He was right. The dragon was right. She should be thankful and she was. Truly she was. And it made her sick. But…he had called her out of the darkness, and even when she slept the dragon still seemed to be caring for her. Protecting her. He gave her answers she never thought she needed, and gave her things she never knew she wanted. She was his and he cared for her thusly. And, maybe, she was not so opposed to it.

"Smaug?" Raelynne asked to break the silence that had followed. She heard him huff out another sigh.

"What is it?"

"One last question."

The dragon did not answer for a while, probably to make her anxious.

"Very well."

Raelynne turned to the dragon, smirking. She was sick of games, but there was one last one she wanted to play.

"We have a thousand faces and yet no heart. We shine like silver in firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the moon. We are lost. What are we?"

Smaug's scaled brow lifted.

"Is that supposed to be a riddle?"

"I suppose it is." Raelynne shrugged, not bothering to explain anymore, "Do you know the answer?"

The dragon looked away to think. Most of the time he would immediately say the answer, finding her riddles to be of little challenge. But as the seconds wore on, Raelynne knew something was different this time. The one instance she did not want it to be.

Smaug's lips curled into a smile, and he chuckled. Raelynne's head tilted curiously, but the dragon was looking at her with something almost akin to pride.

"For once, my songbird, it would seem I do not."

Raelynne laughed with him. Ah, pity. She did hope he would have the answer to that one. Well, not everything was meant to be answered, and perhaps it was best to leave this one be as well. Still, Raelynne could feel herself smirking.

"Well, looks like I finally win for once."

Raelynne is confused and frightened by Smaug's new attentions to her, but when he reveals his true design behind the actions, she shatters…