A/N: Let me be very clear – I am absolutely not an expert on "The Hobbit" or "The Lord of the Rings". What I know comes mostly from the movies and the internet, and I am just now beginning to read the books. Don't be mad if I'm not entirely accurate, and constructive criticism is always desired, but please, no flames.
This is Smaug/OFC, and the OFC's name is Amara.
Disclaimer: I do not own "The Hobbit". If I did, the OFC would have been
Everything has beauty, but not everybody sees it. – Confucius
Dale – TA 2770
It was a beautiful day in the city of Dale, and the streets were bustling with activity. For the past week there had been nothing but rain, a terrible storm rolling through, but now the sun had returned to dry the streets and bring forth the people from their homes.
Amara loved sunny days such as this one, and she tilted her head towards the sky to let the sun warm her face, idly picking at some of the flowers she had purchased. She only had a few minutes left to lean against the merchant's stand in the street before her brother, Theldon, came searching for her. Once found, he would pitch a fit about how unsafe it was for her to wander around on her own as he dragged her back to the home he and his wife shared with her. Theldon was not only her brother, he was her best friend, the one person who had never left her. Their mother died giving birth to her, their father died when she was only ten when he and his hunting party was ambushed by Trolls, and they'd not heard from their eldest brother in many years.
It had been only them for so long, and she knew that he just wanted to keep her safe, but he was beginning to suffocate her! She was no longer the little girl who couldn't venture out of the house for fear that she would become lost the moment she walked three feet, she had turned twenty-two this past Spring and knew quite well how to find her way around Dale.
More than her own discrepancies with her brother's over-protectiveness, she knew that his wife longed for it to be just her and Theldon. Linzana – her brother's wife – was the sweetest woman Amara had ever met and was perfect for her brother, and never did she tell Amara that she didn't want her there. On the contrary, Linzana constantly reassured her that she could stay until old age should she so desire, but Amara knew better and had heard the truth many times over.
She would listen in on Theldon and Linzana's private conversations when in another room, and always when they thought she could not hear they would argue about her still living there. Linzana swore she would never throw her out or force him to choose between her and his sister, but she insisted that Amara needed to learn how to get along on her own, how to handle being so different on her own. Theldon would have none of it, putting his foot down on the matter – as long as he lived, he would look out for Amara.
Oddly enough, Amara always found herself wishing that Linzana could convince him to let her have some space… some freedom. She herself had argued with him about the matter, stating that perhaps she could begin working at the Inn in exchange for housing since the Inn keeper there was a family friend – she'd be on her own but would still have help if she needed it.
As always, Theldon refused, and she wasn't in a position to just up and leave.
She began to grow a little too warm standing in the sun after a while so she backed up a bit until she felt the coolness of the shade created by the tree the flower merchant had set up by.
A light breeze stirred up a menagerie of smells and she sighed in contentment, breathing deep. Of course she could smell the flowers from the merchant's stand as well as the bouquet of flowers in her basket, but it was more than that. A mouthwatering aroma went past her along with the gentle humming of a woman, and she took another breath through her nose – the smell was that of an apple pie. Heavy footsteps sounded in the distance, metal clanking, and tobacco smoke tickled her nose ever so faintly – the city guards were going on their rounds through the city and the tobacco in their pipes was very fresh, so they must have stopped only minutes earlier to get some.
Everything in Dale smelled so fresh and…
Amara frowned, angling her head slightly into the breeze and the oddest scent reached her.
The scent of a fireplace was wonderful no matter what wood was used, and while this new smell was similar that it was very different. It was not unpleasant, just… different, and it made no sense to be smelling it at mid-day and she threw out the notion of someone cooking when the smell gradually grew closer and stronger as if someone wearing the scent was steadily approaching.
Biting softly on her lower lip in concentration, she struggled to pick up on every single sound, every single voice, and every single step coming from those walking by.
There it was!
That scent was directly in front of her, passing her in synch with a pair of sure footsteps.
Her tactic for getting someone's attention when she was unsure of their identity was to call out something about them that she noticed – their scent or a sound they made – and most knew her personally or knew of her to where they understood the oddity of her question. This scent, however, was not one she ever associated with a Human or Dwarf before, not even with cooks and the like, so she ruled out the individual being someone she knew personally.
Undeniably curious, forgoing how strange or rude her question might sound, she called in the direction of the scent, "Why do you smell like a fireplace?"
A single pair of footsteps stopped, so clearly they were aware of the smell as well.
"Is it a proper custom in this city for young maidens to go around asking men why they smell as they do?" the stranger asked, his rich, baritone voice sending a shudder down her spine.
She wasn't typically a shy woman, nor did she have a difficult time speaking to strangers, but this man… his voice… she suddenly felt her nerve waver a bit.
The sharpness of his next words did not help matters any. "Lost your tongue, have you?" he hissed, walking towards her.
"I, uh…"
Witnessing the exchange, the elderly woman who was also the flower merchant snapped at the man, "Can you not see that she is blind? Have a look at her pale eyes!"
Amara felt her cheeks redden and she turned her unseeing gaze to the ground instinctively out of embarrassment.
"Blind?" the stranger repeated, coming ever so closer until he was standing directly in front of her. "Let me see your eyes."
Amara hesitated a moment too long and she felt the air shift a second before the man grasped her jaw firmly in his calloused hand and forced her head upwards in his direction. Considering how far back he tilted her head, he was about 6ft and towered over her. Not a Dwarf then, but a Man.
"You brute!" the elderly lady nearly screeched, stomping towards them, and Amara heard a few other footsteps approaching them. "Do not lay a hand on…"
Whatever she had been ready to say died on her tongue and Amara heard the woman slink away, and silence fell a moment before those who had also been approaching hurried off in other directions, much to her dismay. What had made this woman so quick to defend her just walk away along with others?
Her thoughts returned to the man holding her jaw so tightly when he turned her head from side to side, looking her over, and he huffed in realization, "So, you are blind. Interesting. Tell me, have you always been this way?"
No, she hadn't, not until she was eight, but damned if she was going to let this brute in on her personal life. "What does it matter? I am blind, end of discussion. Now, let go of me."
"Or you'll what?" he asked, amused. "What could a little defective maiden such as yourself do to me?"
The way in which he asked that made her think he was someone of importance.
"I can scream," she replied. "The guards will surely hear me if I do."
"Yes, your guards. Such screams from a pitiful creature do in fact attract equally pitiful protectors," he mused, but he did release her jaw, taking a step back.
Amara brought her hand to her face, massaging the tender skin.
"Now, I will ask again – have you always been blind?" he repeated.
She bit her tongue.
"Answer me, you defective little maiden!"
Name-calling?
Now, that was funny.
"No, I went blind from sickness when I was just a child," she bit out, leaving out the details of the sickness purposefully. Then she stood a little taller, regaining a bit of confidence, and she added tightly, "So, if you think that names such as 'defective little maiden' and 'pitiful creature' will have any effect on me, all you will succeed in doing is making me laugh. Many have poked fun at my blindness, and I have been called many things. Do not think that your harsh words are anything but repeats of what I've already heard."
She expected him to erupt in anger – he was clearly a man accustomed to violence and getting his way. Her little snap might get her slapped at the very least.
But he didn't lash out at her, nor did he shout.
Instead, he did something completely baffling.
He laughed!
Frowning, she demanded, "Have I said something to amuse you?"
"Oh, you have indeed," he chuckled darkly. "Brave words for such a maiden. The first, in fact, to speak to me with so very little respect. One look sent that miserable old woman and your so-called protectors scurrying away with their tails between their legs, yet here you stand."
She held her head high. "Then perhaps my blindness is a blessing in disguise."
"How right you may be," he murmured thoughtfully, as if he read something else in her words.
Swallowing, acutely uncomfortable, she asked, "You're not from Dale – your accent is different. You're not among the Men who came from the East – they all smell of fish. So, who are you? Where are you from?"
He walked past her slightly, and she heard him pull a few leaves from the tree. "I am from the North."
"Not very specific," she argued. "What brings you here?"
"I heard rumors that the Dwarf king had accumulated enough gold and jewels to fill the halls within Erebor," he explained casually, crushing the leaves in his fist. "I wish to see for myself if the rumors are true."
That was hardly surprising news to Amara as many had come in recent days to gush over King Thror's accumulation of gold, jewels, and other riches, especially the treasured Arkenstone that was proudly displayed on the Dwarf King's throne.
"From what I've gathered it is quite spectacular," she commented, brushing her fingers over the rough but healthy bark of the tree.
"Yes… it is."
She snapped her head in his direction. "You mean to say that you've seen it?"
He chuckled, a low hypnotizing sound, and replied, "No, I've not seen it."
"Then how do you know –"
"I know gold," he interrupted sternly. "I know it when I've not seen it."
She blinked. "That makes absolutely no sense."
"It would not make sense for one such as yourself."
Shaking her head, she said, "Regardless, if you did wish to see it, I suggest that you attend the party being thrown tonight in the King's honor. All from Dale have been invited into Erebor, and many have come from far around as well to attend. Should ever a time arise where you could catch a glance at the treasure, it is now. Once a year he hosts a function in which all may attend simply so he can brag and boast about his great accumulation of gold and jewels."
"Yes, I've heard whispers of the function. It is what has brought me here this day," the man commented, a note of disapproval in his voice. "A fool's attempt to show off his gold to those who may be tempted to steal it out from under his nose. A true king would not allow but a few select souls to come so close to his treasure."
"Perhaps," she started with a slight nod of agreement. "There are certainly a few within Dale who would not mind to have even a few gold coins from his great halls."
"Are you among those with the desire for gold?"
She shrugged. "I would not complain if I came into the possession of gold, if that's what you are asking. But I do not steal, nor have I ever come so close to his gold that I would be tempted to take a single coin."
"So you've not attended these functions in the past?"
She shook her head and explained regretfully, "My brother fears there are too many chances for me to get lost or hurt considering my… defect, as you and so many others have seen fit to call it. It's rare that I get a moment to myself such as this, in fact."
"You are a treasure to him?"
"I suppose you could say that," she confirmed with a nod, though she'd never considered herself to be a treasure.
"Then your brother is as foolish as the king for letting you out of his sight."
"Excuse me?" she demanded, insulted that he would dare call her brother a fool.
"Should a treasure be of such great value, it should be guarded with your very life and not let out of sight for a single second, nor should anyone be permitted to touch it." As if to prove a point, she felt him take her chin between his fingers far more gently than he had moments ago. "Anyone could come up and steal you from his grasp."
Amara swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, the intense heat of his touch and low tone of his voice clouding her mind.
And then, just like that, one voice several feet away snapped her out of her daze.
"You! Get your hands off my sister!" shouted Theldon, hurrying towards them.
The stranger removed his hand from her face and took a few lazy steps back. "My apologies," he said to Theldon with false sincerity.
Ignoring him, hands going to her shoulders and urging her to face him, Theldon asked Amara, "Are you all right?"
"Y-Yes," she stuttered, shaking off the effects of that man's burning touch and deep hypnotic voice. "I'm fine. We were just chatting, is all."
His tone changed then from concerned to angry, and he demanded, "One minute! That was all! I told you to wait for one damn minute! What were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt!"
Before she could utter another word, the stranger spoke up and said, "Should you be so concerned for the safety of what is precious to you, you should not have let her venture from your sight."
"And who are you exactly?" Theldon demanded angrily.
Unfazed, he replied cryptically, "The man your blind sister was chatting with."
"Your name!" Theldon hissed. "Now!"
"My name is of no importance to you. Now, I have more important matters to attend to and will not have my time wasted further," the stranger said curtly, pausing for a few seconds and Amara felt the hairs standing up on her neck that came with the distinct sense that he was staring at her. In a tone lower and far softer than the one he'd used to address her brother, he said in farewell, "I doubt Dale will ever see a day as lovely as this one again. Do enjoy it while it lasts… Amara."
Never had the use of her name sent her heart pounding before, but something about the stranger was just so different.
Growling under his breath, Theldon took her by the arm, startling her out of her trance. "Come on, before you make any more friends," he grumbled, pulling her back down the street in the opposite direction of the stranger.
If there was one thing that Smaug detested most it was wasting his time on a kingdom that had nothing to offer him. And so whenever a rumor of gold reached his ears he would undergo the uncomfortable process of Changing from that of a mighty Dragon to a mere man.
The Change, as his kind called it, was quite painful, his scales falling from his body like ash as his very wings and tail disintegrated. Bones would break, skin would tighten… it was just downright painful, and it felt so degrading to walk in the form of such a pathetic creature. But it was necessary hassle in order to see if what he was after was worth his time.
And so when he heard whispers of King Thror's gold and the great Arkenstone, he was quick to make the journey south during a massive storm that masked his presence in the sky. When at last he reached the dense forest far from Dale, he chose a spot large enough to hide his bulk and dropped onto the ground a trunk filled with clothes fit for a king from his last hoard that he'd clutched in his claws. In the throes of unbearable pain as the Change took over, Smaug had dug his sharp teeth into his gums, drawing blood in an attempt to prevent a roar from escaping his throat.
It was not long before his form had Changed, and he'd peered at his reflection in a stream – black short curly hair, pale skin, and ice blue eyes. Unbearably ordinary in his eyes, though many women had fawned over him in this form. He supposed he could take comfort that he was at least not hideous as a human. Quickly he dressed in fine black and blood red garments, a black cloak to shield him from the rain, a sword of elvish design strapped to his belt, and before long he made the long trek to a ferry that took him across Long Lake where he continued on into the city of Dale.
As it was night at the time of his arrival, he'd had to seek refuge in the Inn, grudgingly parting with a few coins in his pocket. Handing away what was his was enough to make him ill, but it was well worth the pain if what he sought in the Dwarf kingdom was as great as he hoped.
All that gold…
He could feel it in his very bones – the gold was very real, and it was so close, but he wanted to see it first with human eyes. He wanted to walk into the Lonely Mountain as a man with the Dwarves and Men unaware of the danger before them, unaware that they were little more than walking ghosts.
But there was more than gold and jewels that had captured his attention.
Such an odd girl, that Amara, he noted as he walked along the streets.
Never had he encountered a blind individual before, and it was disconcerting to say the least for someone not to fall under his Dragon-spell when he looked them in the eye. Though his voice and touch had a clear effect, she had not reacted as she should have. She had not bent to his will, had not shrank before the very sight of him because in fact she could not see him. She was also rather impressive for a human. He doubted many others could detect the underlined scent of ash that was reminiscent of burning wood as a result of the Change, yet she had called him out on it, the scent catching her attentions.
Oddity and defect aside, he supposed she would be considered beautiful by human standards – dark brown hair pulled back in a long braid, lightly tanned skin, petite in stature, even her pale blue eyes were alluring. More importantly, she appeared to be treasured by some, and Smaug oh so loved treasure. He hadn't a use for a maiden, though, but had he come a few days earlier, he would have perhaps allowed himself to learn more about her if only to sate his curiosity.
A pity he hadn't, he thought with a sigh.
Regardless of his fascination of her, come morning, Smaug would lay waste to Dale and claim the Lonely Mountain as his kingdom.
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