Smaug had thought of Susan Pevensie for a few days every month that passed. He found himself thinking of the little girl that glowed like a star in the dark sky with how pale she was. He also heard her voice in his thoughts and remembered her golden hair. It was certainly quite an entertainment that toppled scaring dwarves and destroying villages when he was bored. Boredom was pushed to the bay with recalling young Susan, how she spoke, how she would blush and her nonexistent fear of dragons.

It was a good dream.

Imagine his surprise when after a round about the mountain, he found her sitting on the ledge she was previously sitting on when he entered the treasury. He needed to look closer to make sure, because her hair was darker even when the scent of lilies was the same. She sat there, the music box she found in her first visit on her lap. Grown and her hair now auburn. (He had left it where it was and listened to it when he was too bored, or when he was missing her. He wouldn't speak of the latter though.)

It was a good dream. For her. Now Smaug was sure he wasn't the one dreaming. (Maybe he was hallucinating, but the magic of Middle Earth could conjure anything.)

Even with his entrance of flapping wings and echoing footsteps, she remained bowed. Her hands were gripping the music box too tight and her shoulders were hunched so low. Her tresses was a curtain to the outside world and Smaug contemplated on what action he should do. He would ask himself later why he cared about the girl's emotions when he had destroyed and burned a thousand of little girls' lives. He would wonder later, but his decision was that he was Smaug the Last Dragon of this age, and he could do what the hell he wanted. If that was to spare a lass' life, then so be it.

"Lassie." His voice rumbled and echoed before the mountain absorbed it.

Silence.

"How are you no-longer-little Susan Pevensie?" He tried again and watched her with gemlike eyes.

She took a deep breath, and he saw how her shoulders shook. A few moments passed as they waited for the echoes to be swallowed. Then she looked up and he was surprised that her eyes were red rimmed but there were no tear tracks on her cheeks. He had expected her to be crying, yes, but didn't expect that she was keeping it in. The music box played unceasingly in the background. Her lower lip was chapped from being bitten. There were dark rims around her eyes due to sleepless nights.

Susan Pevensie was clearly distressed and she was doing a magnificent job of hiding it until now.

"Hello Smaug." He commended her in his mind for the steady voice, but he heard through the nonchalance that she failed to cement.

"Hello Susan Pevensie. I am glad that you dreamt of me again." His fangs showed when his dragon lips curled to a smile.

Slowly he watched as Susan Pevensie pushed her tears back and built her walls once more.

"Cheeky Smaug. I am glad that I didn't get lost in this place of yours like before."

"Where did you show up tonight?"

"Where I did last time. Thank you for having the torches lit."

He was quiet for a moment, neither denying nor agreeing to what she thanked him for. "So why did you come Susan?"

Their conversations were a careful dance with steps thought of. He found a pattern in her evasions and how she would pause to think. How her eyes would shift in the golden light as she laid her plans.

A silence that he was waiting to be broken.

"I do not know." Truth.

"Have you thought of it?"

"No." Truth.

"Would you be willing to find out?"

"…Maybe." Indecisive. Smaug nodded, moving to curl up on his stomach on the foot of the ledge. He could wait. He was patient enough to wait for the Dwarf King Thror to fall.

"Smaug?" The silence was broken by her small voice, weak but no longer tear-stained.

"Yes child?" He answered without moving anything except his mouth.

"Have you ever gone and fought a war?" He almost didn't hear it, but his hearing was superior and even if he didn't catch it, the echoes would tell him.

"Yes. I have. We may be dragons but we have ties of our own. We protect our own." Why Susan Pevensie? He wanted to ask but knew that he shouldn't. He knew that patience could lead to the answers he sought. Once again, the music box took center stage in the silence.

"Smaug?"

"Hmm?" He opened his eyes and spied her looking at him. He was relieved that her eyes were no longer red rimmed, but they were still troubled. Her body movements though, were far from the rattled ones she had when he first saw her.

"Have you ever… waited?" She faltered on the last word.

"Waited for?"

"Someone to go back from the war." He finally raised his head and met Susan's gaze.

"No. I haven't."

"Oh."

This time, he didn't let the conversation fade to silence.

"Who will be going to war?" Susan's eyes faltered in their contact with his, and he saw the fear she hid behind her eyes as clear as daylight. Still, she kept quiet. "Do you know that in this world, even younger men… even children had gone to war? In the days of the Dragons, I have seen and killed boys younger than you who wore armor and wielded a sword."

"Killed? Who wouldn't want you killed? Thief of kingdoms who used gold as a bed." He was taken aback by her viciousness. The fear eclipsed into bitterness, and once again he was witness to Susan Pevensie who thought far to the future than any child he had seen. "All the death just because of the whim of one man."

"Was Peter called to war?"

"No! He's too young!"

"Then tell me who? Is it a dear friend?" He knew who it would be, but he wanted to hear it from her lips. He wanted to see the emotions in her eyes more clearly.

"My father. He had been called to war a few months ago." Her voice was dead, resigned. War changed everyone.

"There is something else troubling you." He laid his head on the ledge, his snout just shy from her skirts. She seemed to be more relaxed with getting that out. "Tell me."

"What can you do? Burn all the Axis so the Allies win?" She chuckled. He couldn't help being amused at how her words deemed the world black and white.

"What good would that do? Did you not say that this war was started by a whim of one man?" He scrutinized her with a sneer. "Arms and legs can be replaced. Destroy the head and everything will fall."

"Unless there is someone to take over. The reasons might not be the same but the greed for power would forever be."

"Destroying the head would give you time to take away any chance of replacement."

Like what he did with Thror. Destroyed the head. Incapacitated Thrain. Prevented the chance of replacement. Distracted Thorin. Gave himself time.

"Do you understand now young one?"

"Yes. It does not change the fact that I can hardly do anything." She sighed. "We, Peter, Edmund and I, will be leaving in the morning for boarding school. I fear for my mother and Lucy, all alone in our home. I fear for my friends who are evacuating but I know nowhere is safe. Lucy and Edmund, oh they shouldn't be living in such a time as this."

She took a deep breath.

"There are planes, comparable to small dragons and made of metal, that fly through the clouds and drop explosives to houses. The sky will be so dark and the silence is always deafening. Then there will be death."

He hardly understood the terms she used, but he understood the degree of pain she was feeling, in a way. He wasn't always the destroyer. He wasn't always the Last Dragon.

"What is boarding school?"

"Oh! It's a school. A place of learning but the students would stay there because it is too far away for them to travel to and fro every day. The students can only come home during the holidays or when the term ends."

"You do not want to go there?"

"I do not want to go there. I don't want us to go there and leave Mum alone."

"Do you want to stay here?"

"I would, but this is just a dream. I will wake up and would be leaving soon. Peter did say that we could still see each other since our schools are just nearby. Edmund said that we could write to each other. Lucy, dear Lu, said that we would all see each other in the holidays. Maybe there would be a chance that Father would come home to."

He found no tear but the sorrow in her tone, the conflict in her gaze was enough. No tears.

"What is this holidays you speak of?"

She spoke of it with a smile, talking about socks and a man in red named Father Christmas. Wistfulness laced in her tone for the happy memories of before. The way she scrunched her nose when she speak of Edmund rolling on snow when it wasn't thick enough. Smaug felt a small amount of relief, feeling something light within him, that he was able to chase the darkness even to a small degree.

"Lucy would be so excited when Christmas Evening comes…" She paused in her tale, her eyes jumping to the hallway where they traveled the first time. Of course, he understood.

"Come." He held his paw out for her to step into, knowing that someone was calling her awake. With a small nod from her, she stepped in carefully and her small hands wrapped around one talon. A few moments later, he laid her down to the stairs that would soon become their place of goodbyes. "Are you sure you will be fine?"

She nodded, an impish smile and her hands clasped on her back. "It's not that scary anymore. It is your home, isn't it? I know I'm safe."

"Then till we meet again Susan Pevensie." He carefully swept her auburn locks back. He decided that the color suited her, and he found himself wishing that it grow even darker. "May you stay safe."

"You too Mr. Stupendous."

He found himself chuckling long after her footsteps faded but it didn't reach his gaze. Seeing her mustered smiles that didn't reach her vibrant eyes, he asked himself if it was better that he let her cry.