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*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic; it really makes me happyyy~ =') You people are awesome, and I hope you enjoy this next chapter~! =D ***

*** Note II – Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the too-awesome-for-words Tolkien Universe. I own my ever-growing long list of OCs and my imagination~ :3 ***

*** Note III – I just realized that, whilst finishing this chapter, the title is the same as the title to my Smaug X OC story . . . (O.O) Anyways, for those of you who have read Draconic Supremacy, the Smaug and his parents in this story will kinda be different from the Smaug and his parents in that other story~ Although, his parents' names and physical appearances will stay the same~ (/ô,ô)/ ***

*** Note IV – Okie, so, I'm in a stalemate with deciding between two things on something . . . Just a few notes before I ask me question: In Draconic Supremacy, I gave dragons the ability to choose a secondary form when they turn one hundred years old. These forms can be elves, humans, horses, birds; whatever. Dragons would use this ability to morph and disguise themselves to blend into societies; to learn other cultures or what have you; to create and develop contacts; or, to spy on their enemies (just to name a few things). I'm leaning towards a, "Yes, I think I shall include this ability for this story," but I'm really not entirely sure. Either way will change specific aspects in the story's future . . . Should I give the dragons the ability of the secondary form in this story too; should I not; or, is it fine either way~? (0-0) ***

*** Note V – Just a quick side note (one that I should've mentioned earlier): Currently, the year in this story is Third Age 20~ o.o ***

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~ 008 – Draconic Supremacy ~

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"But it is one thing to read about dragons and another to meet them."

~ Ursula K. Le Guin, A Wizard of Earthsea

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The trio began their travels to Imladris from the region of Rhovanion.

Currently, Thranéal, Aeluin and Lyrial rode through the elf-path, nearing the exit of Eryn Galen, and to the Wilderlands beyond. For now, it was softly snowing – there were a few flakes dropping here and there. It was cold, though due to their elven bodies, the three companions felt cool. Lyrial was very amazed at this; for if she was still human, she'd be shivering from her lack of head covering.

The majestic elven elk Taurhîr, to their surprise, accompanied them. He stood tall and proud at the edge of the elf-path's invisible gate, bidding them a farewell as his light medium brown fur glossed.

Lyrial was the last to pass by the elk, and when she did, her stallion halted suddenly. Taurhîr stepped forward and nuzzled against her neck, his warm breath tickling her porcelain skin. Atop her horse, Lyrial turned her body slightly as she ran her hands along the elk's muzzle and cheeks, eventually trailing down his neck. Soon after, the elk rose his head; and he gave Lyrial an affectionate lick on her cheek before stepping backwards a few centimetres, his shiny black eyes trained onto her. The elleth procured a soft smile for said elk; dug her heels into her horse's sides, and was off to join her companions.

Taurhîr watched the three of them disappear into the open; and as soon as they were completely out of his sights, he turned and strolled into the depths of his sparkling, snowy forest.

It was after a comedic, random debate of which between grapes or bananas were better; that Lyrial wondered about their journey: "I don't think I've asked this before, but how long will it take to reach Imladris?"

Aeluin looked to be in calculation. "Let's see: We are three elves; riding atop well-trained elven warhorses, and are taking the most direct route to said city . . . The journey should probably last for about a week." His jet black mare, Nara, swished her tail for no apparent reason.

"Though, we'd probably arrive two or three days past a week," Thranéal added. "You're not used to travelling like this, correct?"

Lyrial nodded her head. "Yep. Where I came from, we used public transit, cars, or other methods of transportation; in which had us arriving to our destinations from ten minutes to a few hours."

The comely prince sighed. "Ahh, that sounds so much more convenient!" He then snickered. "By the way, Lirimaer, I really cannot believe that you named your horse, 'Honeycake.'"

The princess musically giggled, and Lyrial smirked widely and confidently whilst patting her stallion's strong neck. "How can you not believe it? My horse clearly looks like the equine version of a honey cake."

No really: As soon as Lyrial first laid eyes on this horse – in a quarter of a second – a honey cake popped into her head. Her stallion was golden; and he had a black muzzle, mane, tail, and stockings (his overall appearance also reminded her of that main horse-character from the animated movie, Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron).

Aeluin procured a rather attractive half-smile as he playfully rolled his eyes. "Alright. Whatever you say; though I'm still not really seeing the resemblance."

"Really, Muindor?" Thranéal questioned whilst tittering. "I think the resemblance is quite obvious . . . Alright! We're conducting a comparison once we reach Imladris!"

Lyrial brought her horse beside Thranéal's, as the two ellith then proceeded to high-five each other.

Aeluin simply stared at them; and his eyebrows did that thing where one rose in an arch, and the other lowered in a furrow.

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The late evening morphed into nighttime as Thranduil entered his chambers. He planned to accomplish the last of the day's paperwork in his study; however, he had some corresponding parchments from within his chambers that he needed to retrieve.

After gathering said paperwork into his hands, he made to walk out of his chambers. Before shutting the door completely, his eyes trailed to the sketchbook atop his night table; specifically towards the item that was situated atop said sketchbook.

Lyrial's detailed origami bird was perched atop the black, leather-bound book. The Elvenking allowed for his gaze to be glued onto the paper sculpture for about a minute and a half.

He smiled almost longingly at it; at the memory. . .

Lips stabilizing at neither smile nor frown, Thranduil shut the door.

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Two Days Later

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"Ohhhhhh

You know that I've been waiting for you

Don't leave me standing all by myself

'Cause I ain't looking at no one else"

A mirthful Lyrial sang a song from her world – "Move," by a four-person female British group who were known as, 'Little Mix' – as the trio rode atop their elven horses, who trekked through the sparkling white snow. The vowels on the final word to each sentence were held quite smoothly and powerfully for a number of seconds before Lyrial began the next line.

Thranéal and Aeluin rode beside one another; and they gave each other a pleased grin as their eyes simultaneously flickered forward, watching the back of their singing companion.

"Heyyy

Get your back of the wall

Don't you get comfortable

Looking so hot

I think that I might fall

Feeling like it's my birthday

Like Christmas day came early

Just what I want

So when we move

You move"

The song that the amethyst-eyed elleth sang to, was generally a fast-beat song – one great for hitting the dance floor. Albeit, she sang it slower; not entirely as a ballad, but relaxed and serene.

The royal siblings mentally agreed that Lyrial's singing was lovely. This was actually their first time in which they have heard her singing; and they were surprised that she hid such a voice for months. It was not as ethereally beautiful nor professional as the other elves' voices; nonetheless, their friend's singing was different, unique and quite pleasant to listen to.

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The three higher-ups of the Greenwood warriors had been sparring quite rigorously. Currently, they lounged about to one of the sides of the indoor training arena. They had been training together for four hours straight; and even as they relaxed to the side for thirty minutes, they were still sweating and breathing heavily.

Himelon's back was against the wall as his legs were unceremoniously extended outwards before him, significantly parted. Siraphin sat in front of him, only slightly diagonally. His legs were extended outwards as he lent back; extending his arms behind himself so that his palms rested comfortably against the ground. And Arayan . . . Slept. Well, he laid flat on his front atop the ground with his eyes closed and using his folded arms as a pillow. But he was fully conscious.

A thought had kind of been plaguing the chocolate brown-haired Silvan. He trained his silvery eyes towards the face of the ellon before him and spoke. "Siraphin, why do behave in such a way towards Lyrial?"

The captain turned his head and fixated his violet orbs to a concerned Himelon. He scoffed. "Whatever do you mean?"

His tone chastising, Himelon responded. "Like that. You are cold to her; you ignore her completely; you push her aside when she is in need of assistance; you glare and scoff at her, right in front of her –"

"Not to mention that you almost killed her when she was first brought to the king," Arayan added from his laying down position, albeit his words were muffled.

Himelon hummed a "Mhmm," before he inaudible sighed. "I realize that she greatly resembles our previous queen; and that did, in fact, come as a shock to us. Though, why do you –?"

"THAT IS EXACTLY WHY!" The golden-haired ellon shouted suddenly, unable to stay level-headed. Himelon stared wide-eyed in shock at the abrupt shout; as the usual calm, cool, collected and ridiculously composed captain displayed a painful array of emotions – something he rarely ever did in public. That shout startled Arayan, and the Sinda captain rose into a cross-legged sitting position. He stared at his fellow captain with an understanding.

"It is because she bears a resemblance to Laarëlas that I cannot help but behave in such a way!" Siraphin continued as he shook his head violently, leveling Himelon with a pain-filled glare. His eyes were glassy, and his voice cracked here and there as he continued speaking. "I loved Laarëlas! I loved her as though she were my sister by blood! I still love her! When Siriel and I were tiny elflings living in Doriath, she would care for us whenever our parents were occupied. Even at other times, the two of us would spend many an hour with her. Laarëlas was a dear older sister to me, and to Siriel. Then she was killed – and I couldn't even know who was more devastated: Myself, or Oropher? Can you not see, mellon nîn? This reality is painful. Someone resembling my 'sister' suddenly appears, and I cannot even look at her properly. It is painful to look at her. I can't just . . . When I first saw her, I was angry; I thought, 'who the fuck does she think she is to resemble Laarëlas?!' Yet I also wanted to cry. I was in the throne room when that elleth first arrived here, and I wanted to cry so very badly . . . It took every ounce of my being to sustain a neutrally unreadable expression . . . Yet my fëa burned with anguish . . . I cannot . . . I. . ."

Speechless, Himelon compassionately enveloped his trembling, teary-eyed friend into a brother-like embrace. "Goheno nin. We did not mean to push you this far. I'm sorry; I'm so sorry. . ."

Arayan felt a tear escaping his left emerald green eye. He swiftly wiped it away. Sliding closer to the two, the platinum blonde-haired ellon brought his right hand gently, though firmly, against Siraphin's back; and he let his forehead rest against the crown of the other ellon's head.

After a few minutes in complete silence, the golden-haired ellon released himself from the two by abruptly standing to his feet. Wiping his violet eyes and retrieving his elven sword, Siraphin mumbled a clear, "Excuse me," before walking out of the arena.

Himelon and Arayan stared after him with their lips slightly parted; as they then turned their faces towards each other and shared a look.

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Three Days Later

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Warming sunlight of a new morning shone on fresh blankets of snow; perceiving the sparkling whites as countless diamonds embedded into ivory fluff.

Three elves and their horses were in a small, yet reasonably-sized, cave within the mountains of the High Pass. They spent the night there due to a blizzard, which lasted throughout said entire night.

Her blankets cascaded into a pool atop her lap as Lyrial rose from her bedroll and crossed her legs. She rubbed at her eyes and turned to her left side, as her delicately pointed ears captured the sounds of low snoring. A few feet away from her was Aeluin lying in his bedroll; and she couldn't help but stare at how vulnerable and cute he looked as he slept.

"Enjoying the view?"

Lyrial almost jumped at the voice, and she turned her head to look across the fire; meeting her eyes with a smirking princess. The younger elleth pouted. "I can't help it . . . He looks so adorable and child-like when he sleeps! I wanna pinch his cheeks."

Thranéal snorted and procured an evil smile. "Then do it. It's very tempting, is it not?" She crawled over to the prince's other side and poked at his waist; and then she lightly flicked his forehead. "Hmmm . . . I kind of want to draw on his face."

Lyrial gaped, then she playfully rolled her eyes. "Awww, that's mean!"

"Perhaps . . . Nyeh heh," the princess tittered, albeit not too loudly.

Lyrial allowed for her right index finger to trail along the prince's cheek. She brought her thumb into position; and began pulling on said cheek, when she suddenly felt a firm grip around her wrist. In a flash, Lyrial was on her back with Aeluin hovering on top of her. He secured both of her wrists and held them against the hard ground above her head. The elleth reddened at the extremely close proximity of this handsome ellon; at his intense gaze; and, his seductively playful smirk.

"You are innocently naughty, Lirimaer," Aeluin purred, although somewhat in a daze from just waking up. "I like it. You should be playful more often. . ."

Before anything else could be voiced between the two of them; Thranéal obnoxiously cleared her throat, and she spoke in amusement. "You do have an audience, you know. Release her, dear brother."

As soon as she spoke, Aeluin's eyes widened; and he chewed his lower lip awkwardly before immediately moving off of her and sitting cross-legged a few inches away. Lyrial noted that the fine tips of his ears – poking through his slightly tangled long, silky, platinum blonde tresses – reddened.

Lyrial's black, knee-high boots crunched through the fresh snow. She decided to take a stroll along the range, to stretch her legs. It was chilly; though due to the very bright and warm sun, she barely felt it – unless she ducked under some shade.

She also decided to saunter around to clear her thoughts from the earlier fiasco. She honestly had no idea regarding what the hell was up with her and male Greenwood royalty. She fancied Thranduil and Aeluin as friends; but sometimes their behaviour was . . . Odd? Peculiar at certain times, that was for sure. Although . . . Occasionally, she would feel strange in a sense. For example; whenever Thranduil hugged her, she subconsciously did not want him to let go (she loved it more than she expected to). Withal, she would inwardly feel a childish disappointment when they parted from said hugs. We're just friends. And besides, I'm not looking for a relationship of the romantic sort. . .

Behind her, a few small rocks tumbled down some slopes, and landed into the snow on the ground. Hearing that, Lyrial spun around; and her eyes nervously spun rapidly in different directions. She heard additional movement behind her, so she spun again towards the direction in which she originally faced. Her right hand immediately went to the belt around her upper hips, two centimetres from her waist; grasping onto the hilt of her stiletto. The elleth was not a combat expert as of yet; however, having a weapon and being somewhat knowledgeable was better than none at all.

Her eyebrows lowered in puzzlement, and she cocked her head to the side as she discerned claw prints embedded into the snow. The eff is that . . . ? Her eyes then widened, and she stood solidly still as she felt warm breathing upon the top of her head.

Lyrial turned around at a slow pace; and when she stopped, she gasped in wonderment as she came face-to-nose with a young male dragon. The hand with which gripped at her stiletto dropped to her side. He was quite cute! He was about the size of a large workhorse; which had Lyrial assume that he was not yet an adult. The young dragon's eyes were a warm and passionate fiery golden, and his scales were a lovely crimson.

The dragon released a friendly cry and took a step forward. Instinctively, Lyrial took a step back. She was nervous: Either this dragon was a friendly, or he will bite her head off. However, she inwardly fangirled in extreme delight. She loved dragons, and she finally met one!

"You're an elf! I've never seen one up close before!" the dragon exclaimed happily. His voice was boyish – not completely childlike, but boyish nonetheless.

The left side of Lyrial's lips twitched upwards in a half-hearted smile. She was about to greet him until a looming shadow hovered above them; which was followed by a baritone, yet smooth, voice. "Smaug, leave the little elleth alone."

The voice belonged to a handsome, colossal dragon. The creature moved over them, and settled onto his underbelly along a cliff to Lyrial's left side. He also had fiery golden eyes; albeit, his scales were a stunning ruby red. His scales shone and sparkled as if they were literal rubies embedded into his body.

The young dragon then whined. "But Fatheeeerrrr! She was just wandering around! And I wanted to greet her. . ."

Smaug's father chuckled before re-directing his gaze onto Lyrial. "So what is a lone elleth doing, wandering about in these parts?"

"I am actually with two other friends – we are heading to Imladris," Lyrial responded. Her voice shook a bit; though no longer from nervousness, but from the fact that she tried not to squeal in ludicrous delight at the fact that she was in the presence of (and speaking with) dragons. She clutched her hands together; as a method to prevent herself from jumping around in excitement. "We camped out in a cave for the night; and I was just taking a stroll. . ." To clear some thoughts. ". . . I didn't know that there were dragons in these parts?"

"We generally stay higher up in the mountains," a feminine voice called out. "Smaug simply wanted to explore the lower ranges." A beautiful, slender female dragon plopped to her feet onto the snowy, rocky ground beside her mate, before lying down on her belly. She was gargantuan, although not as colossal as the male dragon next to her. Lyrial noted that like the dragoness's mate and son, her eyes were the same type of fiery golden. Unlike the other two; however, her scales were a breathtaking ivory, and they shone in the sun as the whitest of the whites.

"Is something the matter, little elf?" the ruby red-scaled dragon wondered. "You look at us with an . . . Odd expression on your face."

Lyrial blinked and closed her mouth; flushing a bit at the fact that her wonder made her face appear to be joyfully idiotic. "I, uh – I'm sorry. It's just . . . I've never seen dragons up close before. I've always admired them –"

She was interrupted as she felt the young Smaug nuzzling against the back of her shoulder. As soon as she turned her body, Smaug nuzzled his nose into her chest. She brought her hands up to pat him; when she suddenly turned her head, and asked: "Are you alright with this?"

The colossal male dragon nodded. "As long as Smaug wants your attentions; I am alright with it. Albeit you shall be in my jaws should one tiny scratch befall him."

Lyrial blinked thrice and saluted. "Yes sir."

As the elleth devoted her attentions unto the young crimson-scaled dragon; the ivory-scaled dragoness flicked her tail lightly against her mate's bottom. "Do not scare her like that; she obviously means no harm! But look! Study her carefully." The tone of the slender dragoness turned from chiding to instant, unnatural excitement. "Does she not resemble Laarëlas?"

The ruby dragon cocked his head to the side as he gazed at his mate. "Greenwood's previous queen?" He turned his elegantly horned head, re-facing the elleth and his son. His fiery golden eyes vaguely widened after a moment. "You're right. . ."

"Apparently the elves' reminders of that fact are rather continuous," Lyrial piped up whilst turning to face the two adult dragons, albeit keeping a hand below Smaug's chin.

"Do you tire from it?" the colossal male dragon questioned.

Lyrial looked to be in thought. "Hmm . . . Sometimes yes, and sometimes no . . . I'm not entirely sure. I haven't even seen a painting of her yet."

It was the ivory dragoness who spoke this time. "You should see one – you'd be surprised at the resemblance. What do they call you?"

The amethyst-eyed elleth pulled her hand away from a purring Smaug, and then respectfully bowed. "I am Lyrial." She then smiled. "And you?"

"Karia," the lovely dragoness replied. "My mate is Saël –"

"And I'm Smaug!" the young dragon adorable called out.

Lyrial turned her head and smiled sweetly at the dragonling. "Awww, yes you are!" she cooed as she proceeded to devote more attentions upon Smaug.

It was in the midst of tickling a jovial Smaug that Lyrial realized that she had been away from her companions for fifty minutes instead of the planned twenty minutes. She bided Saël, Karia and Smaug a cordial and respectable farewell; to which they similarly responded.

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Some Unknown Days Later

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His stormy grey eyes lit instantaneously as he glanced downwards and some distance away from his position on higher ground. The young twenty-four-year-old man laid on his stomach, and he propped his elbows to rest his chin into his palms – not really paying any head towards the fact that the snow slowly wetted the fronts of his dark-coloured thick, warm clothes.

He released a mirthful smile as he recognized the familiar being that was the Greenwood princess, who rode atop the snow white Eryn. His eyes lingered over the other elleth – with whom he has never seen before – for a few seconds before studying the ellon beside her. It was after two minutes that the young man recognized the ellon to be the seeming happy-go-lucky prince of Eryn Galen.

Hopping to his dark brown and leather-booted feet, the young man descended the snowy, rocky slopes; his shoulder-length, wavy black hair whipping behind him.

Now on lower ground, the mortal rounded a sharp, protruding boulder and came face-to-horse with Eryn. The stallion snorted and jolted; though being the well-trained warhorse that he was, he quickly calmed.

Thranéal, however, squeaked in shock (the squeak was actually more of a brief high-pitched scream). The royal elleth huffed with widened eyes, and she tried to ignore her brother's sniggering as she scolded: "Ai, child! Never do that again!"

It took every muscle within the young man to prevent himself from laughing. "Apologies, my dear princess; I had not known that your horse was so close." He did not, although, hesitate to portray his eyes in the dreaded, cutesy puppy-dog effect.

Thranéal rolled her turquoise orbs and turned her head to the side, looking away. After a moment, she broke into a surrendering smile and returned her gaze towards his. "I forgive you. It's lovely to see you, again."

"Likewise!"

"Ah, the little prince has grown!" Aeluin called out from atop the jet black Nara. "I had not recognized you at first; but you seem to have grown splendidly. It is rather nice to see you again."

The human prince grinned – Lyrial thought that the action made him look boyishly innocent – and he replied: "Thank you, my prince; it's nice to see you as well. And yes, it has been awhile since I saw you last – I believe I was but a child. . ."

As they talked, Lyrial was in reminiscence as her eyes trailed along the human's form. He was an actual human! This was the first time since living in Middle-Earth in which she had come across a mortal. She had, to her awkward surprise, almost forgotten what it was like to be in the presence of a human. Sure, she had the memories of her humanized past life; but she was not living in them. She was living in the now, filled with elves and. . .

Her gaze dropped and she blushed lightly right when the attractive man turned his grey eyes towards her. He gave her a light hearted smirk, for he was in full realization that she had been staring. Morphing the smirk into a smile, the man procured a respectful bow from his waist before rising again. "Hello my lady. And who might you be?"

Lyrial lowered her head in respect. "Good day. . ." Her voice quivered a bit; and after clearing her throat, she spoke up clearer whilst procuring a small and friendly smile. "My name's, 'Lyrial.' And you are . . . ?"

"Valandil, the youngest son of Isildur. A pleasure to meet you."

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Lirimaer – Lovely One - (Sindarin)

Muindor – Brother (Family) - (Sindarin)

Mellon Nîn – My friend - (Sindarin)

Goheno Nin – Forgive Me - (Sindarin)

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*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***

*** After Note II – In this chapter, Smaug's currently a twenty-five-year-old dragonling~ In addition, I'm gonna be using the same age thing from my other story – being that two hundred years old marks full adulthood for dragons, and one hundred years old means that a dragon would be considered a "baby" adult (resembling an adult, yet still not fully developed)~ (^ῶ^) ***

*** After Note III – Next chapter: Imladris things; Glorfindel finally makes an appearance (my Glor-feels are tingling; LOL, see what I did there? xD); and some more stuff with which I'm keeping a secret~ =3 ***

*** After Note IV – Been doing some intensely epic hip-hop dancing in theatre class . . . I LOVE IT SO MUCH. O.O It's soooo fun; I'm in love with dancing~ *daydreams with hearts in eyes* Who else dances~? =3 ***

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belladu57: Thank you very much~! :D

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