@forloveofthestory
The evening air was smooth and cool, promising a bitter night. It felt like silk against his scales as he flew, slow and lazy, out for the sheer enjoyment of it. The falling of darkness was the most beautiful thing; whether there were stars or no, night was a gentle beauty, a gift given to the world. Sunlight was necessary, but night? Night was always a balmā Not to mention it augmented the fears of prey. Smaug purred as he caught an updraft, the air naturally welling up over a large granite batholif. He hovered there for a moment, simply enjoying the feeling of the air, but then he tasted it. Fear. Beasts. There had been something nearby, something that caused the old stone to crumble and fall, for there was dust on the wind as well, the subtle scents of ancient stone newly exposedātoo subtle for the nose of a human, but a clear sign to a dragon. Hunt here. Damage has been done here. Stones fell, earth moved. Fear. Fear andā He abruptly stopped purring, hit by an unfamiliar scent. It was soft and immediately reminded him of feathers, but birds rarely attracted his attention. This was something else. Folding his wings, he turned and dove straight down the rock face. - When he landed in front of the stranger, Smaugās eyes were wide, pupils alternately flaring open and shrinking to mere slits as he studied her. Wings still spread, a line of dark red-gold spines along his neck standing as erect as a dogās hackles, he bared his teeth at her, growling, tail thrashing, waiting for the attack. It was several seconds before he realized she was stuck, that this strange creatureāthis beautiful, luminous creature that seemed to belong perfectly to an evening sky, clear and sweet to look at as any new-risen starāwas the batholithās prey. Smaugās growling stopped. He stopped thrashing his tail and lowered his head, then moved closer, sniffing her. He wasnāt close enough to touch yet, but that hardly mattered; his fires burned hotly, his chest gleaming with the contained heat, and the air shimmered around him. She was not a dragon. Not as he understood. She was not a bird. Not as he understood them, either. She was not starlightā But perhaps she was a fallen star. After all, why not? Why should the stars belong to elven legend and ancient gods? Why shouldnāt they be beautiful, delicate-looking things that did not even need to exert a threat to completely capture and subdue an opponent? For Smaug already knew he was captured; he was fascinated by her, and could never harm her. Part of him resented that, resented being so effortlessly ensnared by a being far more fair than any jewel he had ever claimed, but he was too curious to mind it much yet. āA foolish place to rest,ā he purred, and started to move towards the boulder by her wing, but just as quickly stopped himself, staying out of reach, sure she would lash out. Didnāt all creatures seek to offer violence when frightened? He was incapable of imagining her to be any different.
The moment her eyes scanned the darkening sky, she spotted it. A vast form, with two great wings outstretched, gliding swiftly and fast approaching. Her heart skipped a beat. For a moment it reminded her of home. The way it moved, itās great size, itās shapeā And she dared to wonder, dared to hopeā could it possibly be.... And then her stomach dropped. The wings were leathery, body harsh and jagged, not a single feather to be seen. No. No, no anything but that. She gaped, with eyes wide, her gaze frozen on the beast. She scrambled back up onto her feet and backed up without thinking, until her wing would let her go no further. Sheād been told the great dragons were almost extinct. That this age sheād awoken in was devoid of most creatures of her ilk, and the dragons, like the valkyrens, were nearly gone from the world. She was told if she was unlucky enough to meet one, it would likely be smaller than her; and a mere shadow of the great fire drakes that once roamed here. This creature was huge. Not too much bigger than her, but still. In times past, she was one of the biggest breeds of her species. And she had certainly gotten used to being the biggest thing around, as of late. Nothing prepared her for this. She had been glancing between the dragon and her wing, hoping some miraculous idea would come to her in time. As his massive form came down before her, she snarled, flashing the whites of her eyes. The feathers on her neck stood on end. The ground shook as he landed, and it rattled her to her core. Flashing teeth. Lashing tail, body and wings, all massive, bladed, weaponized tip to tip. Threatening her. But what held her frozen there was those eyesā from the moment they were close enough to see each other's eyes, she was locked there. The way they were fixed on herā intelligence, cunning, interestā no, it had to be a predatory intentā he wouldnāt look away, and he looked ready to strike. His eyes reflected a fire she was sure sheād burn in, if he didnāt maim her instead. Perhaps sheād be lucky if killing was his intent. As he drew closer her worst fate ran through her mind; that he answered to some higher powerā that there was some connection he had to his origin, and heād give away her existence and her location. And sheād suffer the same fate as her kin. Stripped of her soul and identity, and shifted and mangled intoā Heād stopped growling and lowered his head. He drew closer. She mirrored his pose, but pulled away as far as the boulder would let her. Her right wing had started to ache so bitterly from the strain she was putting on it, but she could hardly pay notice. And the heat. The heat he gave off. It wouldāve been so nice, the warmth, if not for the situation. And his colour; it was nothing like what she imagined when she thought of dragons. She had remembered them as dark forms against the sky, blocking out the sun with their wings and consuming the stars, claiming everything around them. She always pictured them as shadows, dripping evil like tar. Or as some pale sickly grey, devoid of true life. But he was bright, and lively, and his scales shimmered in the scarce light, mesmerizing deep golds and reds. It reminded her of the male forest valkyrens with their colourful plumage, stunning and boldā She snapped out of it and snarled again. She reminded herself that dragons were said to be manipulative, hypnotic, would play mind tricks on you. She didnāt know if her kind would be invulnerable to that or not, but she couldnāt let him try anything. She looked desperately around, then up at the cliff above her, as if some answer or help would come, then back to him. She realized how heavily sheād been breathing and how dry her mouth was. Then he spoke. His voice was deep. Low. Sly. It reverberated in a way a valkyrenās voice rarely did. āRest?ā He thought sheād chose to rest here? A jab at her intelligence. Of course. She bared her teeth and rose her voice, though it wouldnāt match his. āCome no closer, spawn of Morgoth!ā She averted her bitter glare from him to the rock, and yanked again,
cringing with the effort of it all. Then she felt a faint prick in her hind leg, and was alerted of something she had completely forgotten. The arrow in her leg. It was small, and she wouldāve been able to just yank it out hours ago, if she could bend around to reach it with her jaws. But she couldnāt bend back like that with the boulder on her wing, blocking her movement. What if he saw it? Heād know there were people in the area. She had to hide it. She unfurled her free wing and rose it, trying to limit his view of her hindquarters. Hopefully it would just seem like she was trying to make herself look bigger. She pulled on her right wing some more, and suddenly a sharp pain tore through it. Sheād strained it too much. She stifled herself from making a cry and leaned against the rock to keep herself upright. Her head hung low. There was no point. She wasnāt going anywhere. Her eyes shut tight, she steadied her breath. āWhat do you want?ā She kept her gaze downward, not wanting to meet his stare any longer.
