Author's Note: Hello everyone! I hope you all had a good Christmas - I certainly did. ;) Though I was rather impatient to get this chapter out for you guys, especially after the marvellous feedback you guys gave me on the last chapter, thank you all so much for that! Please know that I am taking each and every comment and vote into consideration - thank you!

Anyway, onto this new chapter! I apologise if there are any mistakes with the story of the Inheritance Cycle, its been a few years since I've read any of the books. Also, this chapter actually has a bit of music to go with a certain section. So, if you look on youtube for: "Wolfsong (Music) - Denny Schneidemesser" then when you see this symbol: (*) - in the chapter, start the music! This was inspired by my good friend Lelouch :)

So, I hope you all enjoy my Christmas present to you all, and Please do not forget to review! Thank you!

Chapter 10 – Promises –

Smaug had to admit that he was absurdly pleased with himself as to the progress he was making with Saphira. Though he had to admit, her stubbornness and sheer determination to frustrate him had almost put him off at several points. She was probably the greatest challenge to mate he had ever faced, and he wasn't even competing for her with other males. Yet he had to say that he was rather enjoying the challenge: the way she made him work for her made him believe that the honey would be all the sweeter once he reached it.

He was also not below using whatever he had to in order to win their little game of cat and mouse. Smaug showed his prowess in courtship, though he was rather amused at her own inexperience. It surprised him that such a feisty creature like her could be so innocent. And such behaviour allowed him to act however he wished, even going so far as to doing acts that other (more experienced) females would never allow. The way Saphira carried herself was like that of a warrior raised for a life of fighting, she was so rigid that Smaug was having a bit of fun tempting her to relax and give in to a more carnal existence. He liked the thought of awakening something in her that had either never been allowed out or had been pushed back by outside forces. But having her body want him was half the battle, Smaug realised that her mind was more in control of her then her impulses – he guessed it must be a female-thing. Saphira still doubted his goodwill and also still longed for her independence. Smaug's second half of his plan was to make Saphira believe that she was only wanted here with him, or that she belonged nowhere but with him. But the trick with manipulation, was that sometimes one fell for their own webs of influence, for Smaug was starting to believe that Saphira belonged only with him. She was a treasure that only he could have, the rarest of all jewels, yet she was a match for him and a worthy prize as his mate. He was under no illusions that she would be a fierce and protective mother of their hatchlings, and the thought nearly made him grin.

And yet, for all his hardships, Smaug could now at least say that he was making some progress with Saphira. He could tell that she was beginning to respond to him, though she was still not performing her own end of the courtship rituals. Though Smaug now knew that if he was learning anything from Saphira, it was patience. And over the past few days, she seemed to be delving further into her own thoughts. She constantly seemed distracted, a focused frown on her brow as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle, and she did not interact with him as much as before. Smaug found this behaviour rather odd and frustrating once again, but decided to hold his tongue until this would eventually border on rude.

Walking back towards the treasure hall, Smaug held his kill that he would offer Saphira as his latest gift. At midday he'd left the mountain in order to hunt a Great Bear, a very large yet rare prey, but not one that he couldn't handle. Smaug had been anxious to return to the Mountain as quickly as possible, as he usually did with the thought of thieves always out to steal his treasure. But he had not been panicked or even worried that Saphira might choose that moment to escape – he'd already given her the chance and she had still come running back to him, just proving to him how much she was falling into his clutches. So now, Smaug felt absolutely no hesitance when leaving the mountain, knowing that Saphira was already too entwined in his web to ever think of escaping.

Entering the treasure chamber, Smaug was greeted with the sight of Saphira waiting for him on the gold, lying there rather invitingly as her body was laid out. Smaug felt something stir within him as he gazed upon her unrivalled beauty. It was not the usual lust he felt, though he did feel that as he noticed the way her wings were folded back to reveal just a peak at the curves of her thin legs. Instead what he felt was… contentment? Indeed it seemed, for as he saw her waiting there for him in his den for the offerings that he provided… to know that he returned to his lair with someone waiting for him who didn't fear him or hate him was rather… pleasant. Smaug's lip twitched in a smile, before vanishing as he noticed that Saphira still had that slight frown on her face, causing his irritation to replace the strange feeling.

Saphira pushed herself up so that she might sit on her hindquarters, watching him with a calm expression, though her eyes were still guarded. She did not say anything to him, and Smaug was a little unnerved by her silence, for usually she always had a comment for everything. As he came close to her, sending out his own appreciative growl to her as he looked into her eyes, hoping that she might respond to him this time, she looked as if she were about to say something. But he heard no words in his mind, and so pushed ahead with his offering, ignoring his flash of impatience. He placed the carcass by her claws, a rumble echoing through his chest, one that a male instinctively made to tell his female that he asked for her affections. He wasn't entirely surprised when he received no answer, and so retracted his head from the kill to stand straight, when Saphira spoke.

"I don't want to be a prisoner any longer." She blurted suddenly.

Smaug froze in place, blinking several times completely caught by surprise as the echoes of the words faded inside his mind. Saphira did not say anything to explain further, merely looking to him expectantly. As the shock wore off, utter fury filled Smaug until he was sure that his chest was shining like an inferno was held inside of him. Had everything he had done been for NOTHING?! This ungrateful, insolent, traitorous female would DARE to cross him?! He wanted to burn her, to lunge at her and slash open her throat, his anger and scorned pride demanded it be so. But he restrained himself, now knowing that he was done with games.

"You DARE to ask for your freedom?!" he asked in a deadly quiet voice, straightening himself until he towered above her, lips quivering with a barely supressed vicious growl. "After everything I have given you, you would wish to throw it away to leave –"

"Smaug." Saphira's voice cut across him firmly. "I never said that I wished to leave."

His mind halted, the anger dissipating within him to be replaced by confusion. He blinked at her again, before his eyes narrowed in suspicion at her. His lips peeled back to reveal his teeth as a sign of his distrust. Had she or had she not just asked to no longer be his prisoner? Wasn't that her asking to leave the mountain so that she could return to her filthy human? Smaug's confusion brought back his anger as he thought of himself looking like a fool for her amusement, causing him to hiss at her threateningly.

"I would quickly explain myself, if I were you," he growled out in a low voice.

"Smaug, I…" she paused, suddenly looking uncertain. Her eyes shifted to him and then to somewhere far away, as if she were deliberating her answer and the words with which to express herself. "You… are right." She said at last. "If there is no way to repair the bond between Eragon and I, then there is no place for me in the world… but here. But if you wish for me to stay then you can no longer force me to." She explained to him, hesitating as he saw the quick flicker of grief and guilt in her eyes at the mention of her previous human keeper.

Smaug was once again taken by surprise. What kind of sense did that make? He leaned away from her to peer at her through each eye, watching her body language. He scented the air, but he could detect no sign of deceit in her. But that still did not belay his suspicions.

"That is awfully cryptic of you Saphira," he commented in a clipped tone. He leaned forward, letting it be very clear as to his impatience and growing suspicion and ire as he leaned forward to glare at her. "I would ask that you clarify your statement. Promptly."

"It is simple Smaug. I do not wish to be your prisoner." She told him as she stood up onto all fours, clearly not liking the way he bore down on her. "I offer you a bargain: a partnership." Smaug blinked in surprise (again), for surely when he had demanded an answer he had never expected THIS. But he reserved his judgement as he allowed Saphira to continue. "What I offer is this: I will stay with you, of my own free will. This Mountain shall be my home, and I will at least consider you as a potential mate. I will hunt to help provide for you. I shall defend and care for your home… including your treasure." She added a little bitterly. "And in return, all I want is my freedom to do as I please. I wish to be able to enter in and out of the Mountain without your permission. I want to be able to come and go as I please, and for my every move to not be monitored by you. I do not want to be your prisoner, I want to be your equal."

As she finished her little speech, Smaug looked at her as if to make sure that she was indeed serious and not some elaborate joke. At seeing the expression on her face that told him of how dedicated to this idea she seemed, he realised that he would need to give an answer, though his first impulse was to brush it away dismissively. He felt reluctance and once again suspicion slither through him as he watched her carefully. He knew that if he agreed to such a bargain, there were many ways in which he could lose. Smaug always liked having the upper-hand in any situation, and so when he was presented with one that had him come out of control, it made him become unstable. And with this situation, he knew that he would never be in complete control again. He was also rather angered by her comment to "consider" him as a potential mate and not be automatically chosen. And yet… he could not deny the appeal. To have Saphira stay with him of her own free will, was a huge advantage as well as a tactical step forward in his plan to court her. If she did not want to be anywhere but here with him, if she trusted him completely with this, he would be all the closer to victory at last! Of course he would need to keep an eye on her at first, just to make sure that this wasn't some sort of trick. And besides what could he say to refuse? If he did reject the bargain, then she would deem him unworthy and he would be back to square one with her, and his impatience was already too great for that. So he decided to do what he had never done before: he took a leap of faith.

"Very well, Saphira," he said to her, though still watching her reaction carefully. "You have a deal."

"Do you give me your word?" she asked with a suspicious glare. Ah, she was a clever if deviant creature.

"I give you my word," he said. "So long as I have yours to uphold YOUR end of the bargain,"

"You have it." Saphira said, seeming to relax slightly. But then, as the silence fell over them, Smaug waited for Saphira to make the first move, and she seemed to tense, undecided as he saw something flicker in her eyes. Smaug did not need her mind-reading abilities to know that she was trying to find the words to voice her next little issue. "Smaug… I would offer –" she paused, a little hesitantly, watching him carefully as if she were concerned he might snap at her. "As a first step in our 'partnership', we need to know everything about each other. There will be no more secrets, if you do not wish it,"

"And how naïve of you to suggest such a thing," he muttered with exasperation.

"Where I am from, it is considered a great honour. To know all of another's history to know them and where they have come from and what has made them who they are." She said a little defensively.

"I'm afraid I have not the hours in the day to tell stories," Smaug waved a claw dismissively.

"We would not be talking." Saphira snapped impatiently, before taking a breath to calm herself. "I will merge my mind with yours, and we will share memories. I will see everything you have lived through as if it were my own life, and you in turn will see mine."

"After what you did the last time, you think I will readily allow you back into my head?!" His nostrils flared in outrage. He saw Saphira fighting to hide a smirk.

"I promise to be extra careful," she said in a slightly playful tone.

Smaug was hesitant, for every instinct inside of him was telling him to refuse, that this was wrong, that he shouldn't trust her! He was inclined to refuse, as he still remembered the pain he'd felt when she'd last attacked his mind all those weeks ago. But he had to admit: he was very curious. To see everything she had seen? It would be a marvellous opportunity to both learn about her… and to know what to use against her. And besides, he would hate to refuse and then be called a coward. He would need to kill something if that happened.

"Very well," he sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, and Smaug blinked in surprise at this notion of being thanked. Why was she thanking him? Did this mean she owed him? Was she just saying it out of the need for manners? "Being the one with more experience in these matters, I will go first and show you mine." Smaug only nodded.

He then felt something probe at the walls he had forced into place around the core of his mind, feather soft as if asking for him to allow it entry. Smaug hesitated for only a moment before he lowered his defences. Immediately he felt the foreign presence wind in and through him, and it took all of his self-control not to tense up and erect the barriers once again. He could tell that it was her inside of him, though he wasn't exactly sure how he could tell such a thing just by the feel of this alien presence alone. It somehow felt like her: gentle with care yet with great strength hidden within, a wise and seemingly ancient entity, yet fluid and graceful like water as she swept through him right to his centre. He felt her go straight to a certain fraction of his mind, as if she already knew where to locate his memories. Once there, she rooted herself in place, latching onto him and the walls of his mind. It was then that he felt her urging at the locks in which he had placed all of his memories, storing them away where they would never bother him. She was soft in her ministrations, coaxing him to open for her, urging to let her into all his little secrets, she applied force where it was necessary but was gentle when needed. It wasn't long before she broke down his barriers and opened the floodgates. At the exact same time, he felt her presence light up like a beacon, and suddenly he felt things be projected into him for him to see with his mind's eye. His closed his real eyes in order to better focus and concentrate on the images he was seeing, closing off his real hearing to better listen to the sounds in the memories.

It was like a flood that flowed both ways between them, a seemingly never ending tide of memories that were traded between them. Whilst Saphira was rummaging through his memories, as he could feel her do so, she was simultaneously projecting her memories onto him as he did not know how he would start to invade her mind to do such a thing. The only way he could think of would be to use the Dragon-spell with his gaze, but sadly that didn't work on other dragons to an extent. And that mainly worked for manipulation purposes and to get others to tell the truth, so it would be of no use to him now anyway. So, he greedily drank in everything that was given to him; and oh, what a delicious feast he had!

Smaug saw everything. He found it rather odd that as he watched, he felt everything she felt, though he still held on to his own opinions. He watched her birth first of all: inside the egg which she had been imprisoned for far longer then was natural, to wait for a special someone. He felt her excitement at finally feeling this one close by, he read her thoughts as she expressed her happiness at finally finding this one and to then be free. It was then that Smaug first saw the one he presumed to be Eragon. A boy, little more than a child, just about to enter manhood; with golden hair and blue eyes. He was a rugged boy, in poor clothing and his chambers could only be described as mediocre, indicating that he wasn't even nobility but a poverty-stricken wretch in Smaug's opinion. Smaug saw the moment when Eragon and Saphira touched for the first time, the little hatchling crooning as she thirsted for affection from him, her head touching his palm. Smaug felt the immense magic that was suddenly undertaken, felt Saphira's mind and soul almost bend itself apart as it was anchored to something else entirely, and then, she was no longer alone. That human, from that moment onward, was connected to the very core of her, Smaug could sense his thoughts and emotions constantly in the distance of her mind and never gone. It was irksome and only further cemented Smaug's belief that this bond between a human and dragon was unnatural.

He then moved on to the next memory, of Saphira's youth, growing up as a hatchling in the woods just outside the boy's farm. He would come to feed her until she was large enough to hunt for herself, and even after that he still came. Just as Saphira had told Smaug, Eragon cared for her, both physically and mentally as he gave her the affection and care that a parent should have provided. Smaug watched as Saphira grew quick and strong, hunting in the mountains, and then learning to speak through the mental connection that she shared with Eragon, and then deciding her own name. The memory was then shattered when Smaug was overwhelmed by one particular memory of Saphira terrified out of her wits as a juvenile when Eragon told her of a strange creature known as the Ra'zac. Saphira had spirited Eragon away with her, keeping him safe in the forest despite the boy's pathetic mewling. Smaug did not understand why Saphira would be so frightened of these creatures, he only had the vague impression from Saphira's instinctive knowledge that these were creatures that were a threat to dragons. Which made him snort disbelievingly. Smaug then continued to watch as Saphira brought Eragon back to his farm, only to find it destroyed, and Eragon's blood-relative dead. Curious, Smaug then watched as Eragon and Saphira had trekked across the land she called Alagaësia in search of vengeance against the Ra'zac. They were then joined by an old man, Brom, who taught Eragon the ways of the Riders – which Smaug found to be utterly infuriating to the further disrespect to dragon-kind.

Smaug skimmed through most of the adventure across Alagaësia, noting only momentarily on Brom's death, the retrieval of an elven princess, and the journey across a desert towards distant mountains to reach rebels that opposed the King. Smaug DID note with interest that Saphira felt nothing but hatred and utter contempt for this King Galbatorix. Curious, Smaug looked back through Saphira's memories to Eragon's which the boy had shared with her, and found the tale of Galbatorix, and quickly grew a healthy dose of disgust for the man. Not only was he one who thought to disrespect the dragons by calling himself a Rider, but he was one who was careless enough to lose his first dragon and then insolent enough to demand another. Smaug thought it disgusting that the mortal went insane so easily and therefore stole a dragon and twisted it with dark magic to follow him. This was enough to make Smaug angry, both at the King and at this pathetic dragon Shruikan, who seemed weak and pathetic if he would allow such a thing! Galbatorix then ruled the land and blah, blah, blah, Smaug thought as he had heard the same story of a tyrant king so many times. But at least now he had a basis with which to know why Saphira fought against him. Smaug watched the Battle of Tronjheim in the Mountain hideout of the rebels, impressed with Saphira's fighting prowess for one of only six months old. Smaug noticed here the growth and maturity rate of Saphira, as at her age she should still have been in the nest, not almost physically mature. He wondered briefly if the dragons of Alagaësia had evolved to mature much differently than his own breed. But that was a question for another time. As the battle continued, Smaug saw the moment when Saphira was attacked by an Urgal who managed to get a lucky shot to her chest. And then the moment when she first breathed fire, and then how she defended her rider and gave him precious time to defeat some sort of demon which Saphira and others referred to as a Shade.

Moving on, Smaug saw the praise that Saphira received after her part in the battle, which oddly made him jealous at the amount of near worship she received. Though he found it amusing how she vainly took in their applause. He then watched as she and her rider journeyed north to an ancient forest to the kingdom of elves. It was then that he saw her memories of Oromis and Glaedr. Smaug felt a spike of jealousy when he felt Saphira's emotions upon seeing the dragon for the first time: surprise, fear, elation, nervousness, excitement, even attraction. Smaug saw the reasoning in her thoughts: she believed that she and Glaedr were the last of their kind and so thought it best to choose him as her mate; also she was starved of the attention of other dragons and practically jumped at the opportunity. Smaug tried to contain his anger, and his contempt, but he couldn't help the bitterness rising within him as he seethed at the old battle weary worm. Not only did he allow an elf to ride him, but he was a cripple, part of one of his front legs missing because of an injury sustained in battle. Smaug watched with growing irritation as Saphira and Glaedr spent more time together as the golden dragon taught her what it meant to be a dragon and a member of their order. Smaug snorted; if he'd had Saphira, he would have taught her more about being a dragon then the old wart would EVER know! Smaug was almost pleased to see the moment when Glaedr rebuffed Saphira's affections and the hurt and rage she felt forced her into a blind fury as she attacked and viciously injured the other dragon, though she received wounds herself.

Smaug then skipped ahead again to what Saphira's memories called The Battle of the Burning Plains. He watched as Saphira battled her way through hordes of Galbatorix's soldiers, and the battle was almost won. Saphira had almost exhausted herself in the fighting, when another dragon appeared. This one was red, young, but unnaturally grown. Saphira's memories revealed this to be Thorn, and his rider Murtagh – who had once been an ally to Eragon. Thorn and Murtagh were forced into servitude to Galbatorix – Smaug snorting that no true dragon could be forced to do anything. But what deeply disturbed him was the knowledge that Thorn was much younger then Saphira, yet had been artificially grown and given great strength which he had not earned. Smaug was rather annoyed to see the younger dragon play on Saphira's exhaustion as they fought, though she still held her own rather well. But her weariness soon became her downfall, and she was trapped. Smaug watched, very much interested at this point, as Murtagh had both Saphira and Eragon at his mercy, yet chose to spare them, working his way around promises that he made to Galbatorix in order to let them go on account of their previous friendship. The rider left, but not before he revealed that Galbatorix wanted Saphira specifically – alive. The King knew that there were no other female dragons on the continent, and he wanted her to breed him an army of dragons. Smaug felt another spike of jealousy strike through his black heart as he imagined the males serving Galbatorix touching what was now Smaug's! His rage was so great that Smaug swore to himself that if these memories did not reveal Galbatorix to be dead then he would fly across the world to destroy the human himself for the insult!

After the battle, Smaug flittered over Saphira's opinions on her Rider's rather pathetic family reunions, only focusing on how she hunted and battled the Ra'zac, she and Eragon finally fulfilling their vows of revenge. Smaug looked in interest at these hated enemies: how the infants looked to be humanoid-bird-like-creatures, whether as the adults were more like the human tales of griffons. He watched as Saphira battled the disgusting Lethrblaka: she took on two at once, killing them in glorious battle that made his blood pump in his veins with the need to join her in such fantastic fighting! She killed one in its cave, their blue-green blood coating the walls, and she chased the other to a lake, her wings speeding her along just as Smaug had seen when she had flown with him.

Smaug then jumped over most of the memories of her dealing with diplomats, of every race and size, or just travelling to and fro after her pathetic excuse of a rider. Though Smaug did find it rather amusing how she fought twice more against the dragon Thorn, and both times the male dragon grew larger yet both times Saphira outmatched him. Smaug was rather proud of her when she used her cunning to nearly bury the male alive when she crushed an entire cathedral down upon him. Smaug then took notice when she fought in a great battle at a place called Dras Leona, where she was almost killed when a spear like weapon known as a Dauthdaert was shot at her – which reminded Smaug uncomfortably of Black Arrows. He then skipped ahead once more to the final battle, where Saphira (and Smaug in turn) first laid eyes upon Galbatorix and his dragon Shruikan. If Smaug didn't know better, he would have sworn that Ancaligon the Black were lying there behind the throne of the human king. The dragon was absolutely gigantic, it would have been almost twice the size of Smaug himself, with scales as black as night. But Smaug saw the madness in its eyes, felt the tight leash that was set upon it by its human controller. Smaug was surprised to feel great pity in Saphira for Shruikan, as she felt his mangled mind constantly angry with everyone, even the world as he stewed in his own misery. Smaug watched in fascination as Saphira and Thorn battled Shruikan together, managing to hold the giant's head down long enough for the elf princess to kill it with the Dauthdaert. And then, Galbatorix himself was defeated with a spell to make him… understand? Smaug sighed in disappointment. Of course a spell of simple understanding would work on a human, on a dragon it would have been much different.

But it was then, that Smaug watched as Galbatorix, in his last throw of defiance even as he committed suicide, lashed out with dark and powerful magic. Smaug felt the moment when the bond between Eragon and Saphira was cut, heard her cry out, felt her pain as her soul was almost destroyed in the process. And then, he felt her grief. Such unimaginable sadness filled her, she felt lost, as if a part of her own body were missing. He saw into her most inner thoughts as she internally wept, her loneliness threatening to drive her insane as she reached out to her precious rider, but felt nothing, as if she were grasping onto one who was already dead and gone. He felt the sadness return anew, and Smaug almost didn't know how to feel about such a thing. He'd seen every memory and felt every feeling Saphira had had towards Eragon, she saw him as a brother, a child, even her own hatchling, he was more precious to her then anything in the world. He now knew that Eragon had been the one constant thing in Saphira's life, how his thoughts and feelings were one with hers, they were always together, such love that Smaug felt himself grow disquiet at such an intensity. Smaug was quite unsure how to handle this now. He still thought of a bond between a mortal and dragon to be an abomination, but he more understood the yearning that Saphira had in her heart to be with the one who had always stood by her, the one whom she should be bound to. He felt her self-loathing at being parted from him, believing herself to blame, that she was now incomplete and her fear of ultimately going mad from such grief that inhabited every part of her soul until she felt like it would crush her.

Smaug discovered that he did not like her human. He was unworthy of her: a whining, insolent, incompetent piece of filth. He forever questioned himself and the superior dragon at his side, never had the guts to embrace his own destiny. And when his precious dragon had needed him most, he had done nothing to help her, when she had risked all to save him. Such sentimentality was perplexing to Smaug, but it still infuriated him to see that his Saphira had been left alone and broken…

And he would fix the pieces, and turn her back into something glorious.

As Saphira projected her memories, she was sure to keep certain parts carefully hidden from Smaug: such as the location of the Vault of Souls and the revealed existence of other dragon eggs, as she had sworn oaths in the Ancient Language that she would not reveal. Saphira also hid her true name from him in her memories, as she knew that she did not want to ever let the dragon have power over her no matter if she was offering him a truce or not. She also thought it prudent to not show him ANY of her use of magic (as she didn't know what his reaction would be) and also the way she had come to here from her homeland, as she didn't want even a remote chance of Smaug ever going there.

Turning back to her task, Saphira began her journey of sorting through Smaug's memories, though she was a bit apprehensive, as she didn't know what she might find within, and was worried about coming across something that she wouldn't like. But, taking in a steeling breath, she ploughed headfirst into the memories that awaited her.

She first watched Smaug's upbringing, how he lived with his mother, a fierce looking black dragoness with eyes as red as Smaug's scales. Smaug had been the only offspring to survive the egg in the place that his mother had chosen to nest, the valley called The Withered Heath. Saphira almost found it adorable to watch Smaug as his younger self, a curious and mischievous hatchling he had been. She watched how his mother had cared for him, fed him, groomed him, though she had a tough time keeping him in the nest at night when he was supposed to be sleeping. Saphira almost felt her lips twitch into a smile as the mighty dragoness tended to her son, allowing him to play with lambs she had found so that he might learn to hunt. She even saw the moment when Smaug fell through the ice that he had told her about, and how his mother had been the one to save him, spending the rest of the night getting him dry and keeping him warm under her wing. Saphira noted how Smaug's father was absent, perhaps abandoning his mate or dead… the later seemed likely, as Smaug's memories of his youth revealed to never encounter a dragon that could have been his father at all. One particular memory Smaug seemed fond of, when he was two years old, and still no bigger than his mother's elbow as he lay beside her, the pair of them playing a game of riddles, Smaug's childlike mind attempting to word a riddle though failing. His mother had taken great amusement in the game, rewarding her son for his hard work with a diamond from her hoard. Smaug had looked upon the jewel with gleaming fascination and greed, his first liking for treasure coming through; his mother had nurtured such behaviour, telling him of the beauties of gold and jewels. The pair of them had then both settled down, and Saphira was entranced as she saw Smaug curl up beside his mother, and the dragoness began to softly hum, a lullaby sounding through the air, soft, haunting yet utterly beautiful.

(*) Though the memories revealed that his mother was also a hard task-mistress, she would expect her orders to be obeyed without question, and her anger was truly something to behold as Smaug grew older. But nothing ever showed of Smaug's resentment for his mother, indeed, he held nothing but admiration for the mighty huntress who never failed to provide for her son even in the harshest conditions and against the most monstrous of beasts. But, Saphira noticed how one memory seemed to have special attention. Smaug has been almost three years old, yet was still too young and dependant on his mother. He was half her size and could defend himself from most creatures, even hunt, though poorly. But he still needed the care and attention of his mother. Saphira saw how one day Smaug's mother sung to him his lullaby, making him tired so that he might sleep whilst she went away to hunt. She left him in their cave, flying down the valley in search of appropriate food for her and her offspring whilst Smaug settled himself down to sleep. He only dozed, which perhaps was for the best, considering what happened next. Smaug was awoken when he sensed intruders in his mother's cave. They were two cold-drakes: dragon-like creatures with no wings and could not breathe fire, with large fangs and great strength as well as impenetrable scales. Smaug had immediately retreated to the back of the cave, knowing that he was no match for such creatures. They were easily as big as his mother, and so attacked him, wanting his mother's treasure as well as the cave for shelter. Smaug had cried out for help straight away, and his mother had come flying to his aid, battling both drakes within her den. She'd fought relentlessly, putting herself between the monsters and her son, though she could not open her wings in the cramped space and her fire was only effective when she had the room. The Cold-drakes fought her viciously, their teeth sinking into her neck, chest, and legs. She managed to kill one by smashing its head against the wall, but the last was more sturdier. Smaug had watched in the back of the cave as his mother had battled endlessly against the threat, never giving in. They were almost evenly matched, the male cold-drake was strong and durable, whether-as Smaug's mother was fast and agile, though the later counted for naught in the cramped space of the cave. Smaug's mother was utterly ferocious, sustaining several injuries in her assault on her opponent though it never seemed to phase her. The battle seemed to carry on for forever, as the hard scales of both combatants meant that it took great force to pierce their hide. Finally, the cold-drake managed to wedge his claws in her scales and sliced open her neck, and driven by rage she managed to rush the cold-drake, getting her jaws around its throat and snapping its neck. Saphira felt Smaug's joy at seeing his mother triumphant… which soon turned to confusion and fear, as his mother sank to the ground. Watching with untold pity and horror, Saphira saw how Smaug came up to his mother, who lay dying upon the cave floor, the wound in her neck too deep, and her blood slowly began to pool beneath her. Smaug had curled up against his mother, tucking himself under her wing, confused by what was happening and began to panic. His mother had then soothed him in her final moments, humming her lullaby even as she began to choke on her own blood, pulling her son close to her dying warmth and soon died. Smaug had stayed with the body for days, waiting for her to wake, though it finally set in to his innocent mind that his mother was dead and not returning. He lay beside her as she grew cold, her blood congealed on the floor beneath him, and the reality of his situation set in. The memory was then tainted with anger, shame, and self-loathing. Smaug blamed himself for the events, hateful to himself for being a coward and crying for help instead of facing the enemy, and to then not fight with his mother and help her. He felt shame for his mother dying and anger at her for leaving him.

It hadn't been long after that Smaug had been forced to leave the cave, leaving his mother's corpse behind. The need for food had driven him into the valley, where he had quickly learned to defend himself completely and hunted until he grew strong. Eventually he learned to block the memory out completely until he had all but forgotten it, and his heart grew twisted and dark as he swore to never again show such weakness. Saphira then watched as his life was brutal in the Withered Heath – every day a battle for survival, and at first the odds had not been in his favour. But with each passing year he had grown stronger, bigger, more ferocious, until he was a force of nature itself to be reckoned with. No longer was Smaug the pitiful hatchling all on his own surviving against wolves, northern bears, other lesser drakes in search of a meal; now he was the terror of the skies itself. He had quickly established himself amongst the handful of remaining Fire-Drakes that were present in the Withered Heath with him. He was by far the strongest one, beating any and all challenges as he came strutting through their territories. Saphira was rather surprised to learn that the dragons of the Withered Heath were not social creatures, but needed to live in close proximity to each other because there was nowhere else in Middle-Earth left for them to go. Saphira felt pity for them, to be banished to the harshest environment, where the snow and ice itself was a daily assault on the body, let alone the lack of food and water. There were only a handful of fire-drakes and other "lesser" dragons as Smaug's memories described them. Saphira had to snort, for he would label another species so. It was during these memories that Saphira also saw Smaug's many experiences with females once he came of age. At first he was young and cocky, but soon grew in experience and tact until he became a master of the game. Unknowing how she was supposed to feel about watching such things, Saphira decided to quickly move on, the prickling irritation in her chest only growing as she continued to watch Smaug conquer his way through female after female.

As he matured, Saphira saw how Smaug grew more restless and more explorative in his wanderings, earning him scars in the battles he fought. He earned a name for himself as the "dragon-dread" as he battled small faction of elves, dwarves and humans, also feeding into his greed as his appreciation for gold only grew over the years. Saphira watched as countless mercenaries or brave knights came to attempt to slay the dragon, who was quickly growing more and more well-known with each of his exploits. Other times it was simple merchant caravans that Smaug cornered and attacked, taking whatever valuables he deemed were worthy. But then, Saphira heard in the whispers of the memory tales of a Lonely Mountain, filled with halls of treasure, hoarded by the dwarves. Tales spread amongst human kind of the wealth that was contained in Erebor, and Smaug heard such talk, and Saphira saw his interest be piqued, until he finally took wing and soared south. Saphira then watched in open mouthed shock as Smaug attacked the City of Dale, bringing to it unnecessary destruction and death to the citizens within as he simply showed off his power. Yet Saphira was interested to see one lone man stood against the beast and the firestorm he brought, mounted on some form of large ballista like contraption. Smaug's emotions in the memory were tinged with outrage at the nerve of the human who began to fire long spear like arrows at the dragon. From the memories, Saphira learned that these were called "Black Arrows", and as the first hit Smaug's hide, although they bounced off, they seemed to hit harder than regular arrows. The second one seemed to cause a flash of pain as it hit Smaug's left breast, and a scale came loose on his chest. But Smaug revelled in his own power as he still remained unharmed, and unleashed his fury upon the lone bowman as he bathed his tower in fire. The dragon then flushed out all inhabitants of the city, as if they were vermin to be brought out of their nest. Smaug had torched the city until it was nothing more than a ruin, his fire burned the buildings, his tail and claws smashed the towers. Smaug had then turned onto Erebor, and taken it for his own, smashing through its defences and killing the dwarves inside easily as he trampled his way through. He smashed his way through the halls until he found the treasure hall, and basked in the gold within. He'd then exterminated whatever dwarves were left in the mountain and barricaded himself inside, burning the surrounding lands and being sure that NONE questioned his rule.

Saphira was quite breathless as the memory ended. She didn't exactly know how to feel about everything she had learned of Smaug. In one claw, she felt her stomach twist in disgust by the greed and corruption that was clearly evident in Smaug. It made her want to spit blue-fire in anger at his blatant disregard for others. His conquests had been pure folly on his part – all the death and destruction, all the misery, both to him and to others, was all for gold? The very idea made her want to snarl in frustration! She couldn't believe that she could even sit in the same room as he, for all that he was and all that he'd done was everything she had fought against when she had been with the Varden and Eragon. And yet… in the other claw, Saphira could not help but feel… impressed. Smaug had endured a lot in his long life, both physically and mentally. He'd fought, he'd been scarred, he'd survived the harshest environments, and had defeated every challenge that had ever been thrown at him. And after all of that, he'd found some peace in this lonely existence in this mountain. He'd never admitted to any sense of loneliness, but Saphira could only imagine that such an existence would be lonely without anything to at least converse with but one's own self. Despite the evil he had committed to earn it, Saphira somewhat envied the peace he had achieved.

She then slowly withdrew from his mind, knowing that she didn't need to see anymore, noting how he closed off the core of his mind from her as she left. As she returned to her own mind, Saphira felt a small creeping feeling enter under her skin as she looked up at Smaug expectantly. She didn't know how to feel in that moment, perhaps a little apprehensive, for she didn't know what his reaction would be to her memories. For a moment she regretted letting him see so much of her past, after all, he had been so vocal on his dislike of a particular subject, and she wondered if he would show only more disgust for her now. And for some very strange reason that she could not explain, she desperately did not want him to scorn her… what did she want?

Smaug slowly opened his eyes, and Saphira was greeted with the familiar warm glow of his golden orbs as they focused on her. She met his gaze openly, knowing that she would never back down from him, to never show weakness to him. Not only was she too prideful and stubborn, but she also sensed somewhere deep down that he didn't want her to cower obediently… that he might like her just how she was… She shook such thoughts aside, playing them as nonsense and focused her mind on the present, as she and Smaug stared at each other for the longest time. They seemed to be searching the other's gaze for something that was completely unknown to the other, and for the first time in her life, Saphira understood the two-legged term of what it felt like to be naked. Smaug's eyes seemed to strip away her armour, her scales, her flesh until he could see her underneath, with no need to crawl his way inside her mind and read her thoughts. In his gaze alone, Saphira found herself exposed to a different type of intimacy that she had never before even comprehended, one that left her slightly confused but waiting on bated breath for whatever came next.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of them locked in each other's eyes, Smaug moved. Saphira was expecting his clever witty tongue to be his reply, but strangely he said not a word to her, instead, he slowly moved closer to her, inch by careful inch. He always kept eye contact with her, as if asking her permission to come this close, though Saphira kept still as some part of her was eager to see what he would do. There was a look in his eyes, a dark and smoked glaze to his eyes that seemed to burn her flesh until she felt prickling heat under her scales that tingled like bolts of lightning. The look was devoid of his usual leer or arrogant grin, instead he looked at her with complete seriousness, yet that burning need still in his eyes. Saphira restrained herself from gulping down air as she struggled to not give him an instinctive growl of approval.

Smaug came close to her, until they were almost chest to chest, their necks arched gracefully, though he looked down on her as she strained her head to look up at him. once again he held her gaze for a long silent moment, before slowly moving until he came to a spot just at the back of her neck, his tongue darting out to lick at a certain spine. Saphira felt her body stiffen as a memory came racing to the forefront of her mind, of when she had been a young hatchling in the spine, and a bear had come to try and chase her out of its territory, its claws had nicked the spine though caused no damage. Saphira then seemed to know from some deep instinctive part of herself what Smaug was doing: he was grooming her scars. Saphira thought it rather redundant as she had no real scars, as they had all been healed by magic. That could only lead her to believe that Smaug must have memorised the position of each of her wounds that would have left scars from when he had been inside her memories… The thought was rather shocking. He moved his head, black tongue slowly drifting over the right side of her chest from where an Urgal had smashed her chest-plate armour at the Battle Under Farthen Dûr. He then moved to her side just under her wing where Glaedr had injured her during their one and only fight. At his cool touch, she once again felt a shiver run up her spine, though not due to being uncomfortable in any way. Then he moved to her left side where Saphira knew he would go, to the place where the Dauthdaert had nearly killed her in the Battle of Dras Leona. And then, he came up to her face once more, looking into her eyes as if he were eyeing her somewhat suspiciously. But then, the look seemed to pass, and he leaned closer to her. For a horrible moment, Saphira wanted to duck away from him, but then, his jaws passed over her, and she felt his tongue run along the length of her forehead to the back of her skull. For a moment, she was confused as to why he would do this, but somehow still felt a sense of… comfort come from the gesture.

"My Warrior," he murmured to her in a soft purr that made her scales tingle once again, his head moving back so that he could regard her once again with those burning eyes of his.

Saphira felt all breath leave her in that one moment, her shock so complete that all she could do was gape at him. She could only vaguely know at the significance to what Smaug had just done, but she still felt oddly unsettled with the motion. A long silence stretched between them as their staring gazes continued to last between them. Saphira felt oddly indebted to Smaug for the act that he had done to her, the attention he'd given her, the subtle affection, it had touched her in a secret way that nothing else had ever done before. Even though she was still unsure of what to make of him, she had made a promise to at least think of him potentially becoming her mate. So, forcing herself all the way, her mind and body at war over: one claiming it wrong, the other too far gone to care. She wanted to return the favour, and so did the same for him. She came to the scar up the side of his snout, what he had told her he had gotten from a fight when he'd encroached on the territory of another male. Saphira slowly licked along the scar, feeling a rumble vibrate through Smaug's whole frame as her soft touch traced along the old scar. He was practically purring for her. Emboldened, Saphira moved to the end of his muzzle where a piece of his lip had been chipped away, her tongue darting against the hole and a fleeting feeling against one fang inside his mouth. He growled, his want plain in his gaze as he held her eyes the entire time. Again Saphira moved to a different part of his face as she came to a broken horn, again running her tongue along the length of the old injury. And so she went on, along each and every scar, and his body was littered with the tales of his hard life, further solidifying Saphira's feeling of appreciation. It took her longer than his treatment to her, but she oddly did not regret one moment. Finally, she came to his chest, her eyes focused on the black hole in his left breast, where one would only need a strong weapon and Smaug would be dead, as she could sense his heart just below the exposed flesh. Her eyes dart back up to meet his, and found that he was watching her from the corner of his eyes intently, an unreadable expression in his gaze. Boldly, Saphira slowly opened her mouth and licked along the most dangerous of Smaug's battle scars. And for the first time, she felt him shiver, a breath audibly sucked in through his nostrils until he released it tensely. Saphira then slowly brought her head up until she was level with him, her eyes staring into his as if she no longer felt the need to hide behind a wall of anxiety or nervousness anymore. She pushed her mind into the edges of his, a purring whisper in her voice as she filled his mind with the emotions that were running through her at that moment.

"My Conqueror…" she murmured.