She was woken yet again to something loud being dropped beside her. She sat up to see Smaug sitting beside her eating a deer, and beside him were four other deer he'd killed. She ate two, leaving him half, and he nudged another closer to her before eating the last. She watched him get to his feet, seeing him step closer, and she wrapped her tail in front of her – hiding herself further from him.
He gave her a sharp look, letting her know she was testing his irritation, before he pushed her with his head. She whined at him, not knowing what he wanted – thinking he wanted to mate again, and that she did not want – but he gave a short growl before pushing against her leg making her stand.
He did not know why she was keeping herself from him, knowing after they'd mated she should have stood and bared herself to him – but she didn't, instead she refused. He would find out why, the curiosity of what was different about her being a reason he continued to stay. He nuzzled her, showing her he was not upset, before he lept into the air. He was pleased when she followed after him. He enjoyed flying with her, seeing the strength in her wings as they beat; she truly was beautiful. It was in those times, for a sparse moment, when he was glad he'd found her.
…
It did not happen the first day, nor the next. The fact that she was holding out confused and frustrated him – he could smell she was in heat, it grew stronger everyday. And it left him in such an agonized frenzy that he sometimes could not be near her. He retreated to his cave, where it was free from her intoxicating smell – and just a small enough scent drifted on the wind to let him know she was near.
She heard when he whined, sounding more like whimpers. She could see the need in his eyes when he was near, could smell it on him; a scent that drove her wild. She could not for the life of her draw to mind why mating with Smaug was so wrong. She couldn't think of a single reason why she shouldn't, and so she did.
It was nearing the end of the week that he heard her climbing into his cave, feeling her coming near. He didn't have it in him to growl, or to even turn away. All he wanted was to mount her, and she would not let him. He glowered her at her as she stepped near, seeing the caution and hesitation in each movement. A sigh escaped him when he felt her rub her head against him. A needy purr when she rubbed her entire body against his, whining at the lingering feel of her hips against him.
He stood and turned to her, purring as she went beneath his belly and ran her body against him. She was giving herself to him, a sign of mating in a female in heat. In this she acted as a normal dragon would – for that's what she was, there was nothing human behind her instincts in that moment. There nothing but the animalistic need to mate, and so she lowered her chest to the ground leaving her hips high in the air.
He growled when he saw her, an involuntary reaction at seeing such a tantalizing sight. He did not hold her down, he did not bite her neck – there was no need, she was his. All the proof he needed was in the sound of her screams, matching his own. She was his.
…
They stayed in Gondor for years, for it was Aragorn's rightful kingdom – though he was reluctant to claim it. Instead he stayed with his people, watching them and fighting for them. It was something Erytheia did not understand – she could not comprehend why he would continue to live among them if he would not tell them of his heritage. It was a very human thing, and Erytheia was enough of a human to understand why he did it. Though Aragorn did not know she could change skins, and she was not brave enough to find out if he would hate her for being what she was.
She was given no choice though. Years after they began traveling together, to which Aragorn now understood she did not age as normal men for she looked exactly the same, and they were traveling to Rohan where he wished to spend their time. An orc pack came across the two as they slept, when they were at their most vulnerable. Erytheia smelled them a few leagues before she saw them, to which she alerted Aragorn.
"We have been discovered," she whispered to him, startling him from sleep.
"How do you know?" he asked, unsheathing his sword as he stood now erect and prepared to fight.
She looked far into the dark, not seeing anything. But their smell was so horrid she knew exactly where they were. "I can smell them."
If they had not been threatened by such an enemy Aragorn would have thought more on that – it was not the first time he'd understood that she was not just a woman, he just did not know exactly what she was. He found out that night.
For when the pack descended on them it proved too much for the two of them, and when three orcs held Aragorn down, and another held his sword over the man's throat, she made a choice: she cared too much for Aragorn to let him die. And so she erupted into a dragon, killing their foe in the matter of a minute. There was no other choice for her but to shift into her human form, and she was left staring at Aragorn's shocked face.