This time, he was sure he was the one dreaming. He stood in front of a wooden door in his human form, the clothes covering his skin reminiscent to the days when he was still surveying Erebor. The wooden door was that of a peculiar house. He knew it was a house, the dark windows were even brighter than a simple room brightened by a candle. The night was quiet, and as much as it wasn't as beautiful or as wild as Middle Earth, Smaug found himself craving, to a degree, the strange beauty that the place had.

Then there was a sound, a strange rumbling that came from above. He looked up and squinted his eyes. Fire dotted the clouds, as well as a whistling that made his lungs constrict. There were blasts and Smaug was witness to planes (Susan told him about them.) as they fired and fell. He was also witness as they dropped big metal cases. He followed one as it fell and felt honest fear when fire erupted the moment it met the ground.

Have you ever gone off to war?

Then there was a commotion inside the house. He could hear, feel, the shouts and panicked movement. He heard a cry of a little girl. The thunder of feet on wooden floor. The fear that was just a scent in the air became a choking hazard. To Smaug it was supposed to be exhilarating, but no it wasn't.

Mum! The door slammed open and Smaug saw a mother, followed by a young lass and then Susan. Susan, completely dark-haired, earth dressed, still pale, holding a light in a weird canister of metal. Two boys followed her in the same streak for survival. A blast came to close and it colored them yellow. Mum! Smaug watched as Susan went through, ignoring Edmund when he turned back and even when Peter tried to stop his brother from a bout of stupidity. He watched as the boys went back in the house as Susan herded Lucy into the shelter. Their mother screaming for her boys to come back.

Another explosion and he heard a window shattering. The planes were lower and their shadows tinted the grass. Smaller Dragons made of metal. He waited for the boys, watching their mother as she waited from the door of their underground house. He moved when the boys appeared, running beside them to get into the shelter with them. Not for his safety, how stupid for him to be hurt in such a dream, but to see what was inside. To see the reality that Susan Pevensie lived.

Why can't you think of anyone but yourself? You're so selfish! You could've got us killed!

Who he watched was Susan, his golden eyes all on her. He saw the understanding in Susan's eyes as she gazed at her brother. Watched as Edmund's gaze was glued to the illustration? Of his father. Susan, huddled with her sister and their arms around each other and Edmund in his mother's arms. Peter, golden haired and a monument of fury, stood there with his brow knit.

Why can't you just do as you're told?

He watched as Susan's face was buried in Lucy's hair. He saw her shoulders barely shaking and knew that she was curving her own feelings, her own fear, at bay. Tears weren't needed at this time, what was needed was an older sister. What was needed was clear thinking and a logical mind. Too deep in his thoughts, Smaug discovered it too late that the noises were softer and the mother's whispers were inaudible to him. All he could do was look as they huddled together and he knew that a decision was made. When they broke away from each other, it was to bed. He was there when they fluffed their pillows. He was there when their mother caressed the frame of the illustration. He was there when Peter turned his back to Edmund. He saw when Lucy caressed her toy and whispered to it. He saw with clarity Susan's face with nothing but unnerving calmness, even when her eyes were that of chilled ice.

He watched, this once young and golden-haired Susan Pevensie, changed by war into a dark haired and distant young woman.

"Smaug?" He stared at their huddled forms once more.

"Smaug?" He blinked, only realizing that someone was calling his name. The sounds became muted and the sharp edges of the objects blurred. "Smaug!"

His eyes snapped open and he found Susan's small form down his nose. Her face tilted up and her expression as calm as she did when she fell to slumber. Her clothes were the same. The curls of her hair were the same. From the shoes to the hair tie, it was all the same.

"You snore when you sleep. Do you know that?" The smile came easy on her face.

"As long as I do not disturb anyone, I can snore all I want."

She chuckled, a simple huff of air and a shake of her head. Her curls bounced, like springs that denied being easily unraveled. "Point taken."

"So why are you here Susan Pevensie?" It was a line that Smaug realized he had repeated every time she would show up in his stolen home.

"Where is the music box?" Evasion. As always. He still hoped that Susan's honesty wasn't a one-time event caused by innocence and young age.

"It is where you left it. Would you like to play it again?"

She shook her head and then started wandering.

"Will you miss me?" She never spoke of her concern face to face. Never spoke of her problems with him so close and he realized it with this one.

"What situation would come that I will be missing you?" His tail hovered close her form, ready to assist as she once again went treasure hunting.

"Well…" Her voice muffled when she bent down to pick a long sash embroidered with diamonds.

"What?" He asked. Her eyes were wide with surprise at the sash in his hand, clearly amazed with the beauty of it. Like before, she was like the moon absorbing the sun's golden rays to make it more stunning.

"We'll be sent away soon. The war is getting worse and Mum cannot take care of us while in Finchley. Father is, thankfully, alive."

"And you think that maybe because of physical distance you will stop of dreaming this place? Dreaming of me?"

"No. Clearly, this place is of a different world. Maybe like Alice, this is all in my head." He clearly had no idea who Alice was and what was inside her head. It hardly mattered though, what was important was her visits may be cut off.

"Then what will stop you from dreaming about me?"

"I don't know, but better be warned than just disappearing. That is proper courtesy, yes?" She wavered, then slipped into the pile of gold. His tail was quick to the rescue in pulling her up, and her giggles when his tail wrapped around her waist was thanks enough.

"I am a dragon. I wouldn't know what is proper for you and your kind."

She laughed and Smaug was relieved it wasn't hollow. When the laughter ended, she bent forward once more and picked up a sword. He felt a brow rose in curiosity. The sword was clearly for dwarves, with its stone handle and heavy blade, and she could hardly lift it. She was too small and too frail for a sword of that build.

"How can one achieve harmony?" Peter. Edmund. Smaug was quick to follow on what was behind her questions. "If two people are clearly light and shadow?"

"One cannot be recognized without the other."

"But one can exist without the other." She started dragging the sword to where he lounged.

He knew that Peter was light and Edmund was shadow, and he could see that as the two clashed they would find a middle ground sooner or later. He had lived long enough to see it happen so many times. "And as someone viewing this clash, what do you think would happen?"

"Like someone being stuck in a room too dark or too bright. It would take some time for the sight to return, but when that happens…everything would be fine."

"Indeed."

She ended sitting beside his giant paw, admiring the sword she had with her and tracing it with feather light fingers. He ended up following her every move with his gaze. (Watching, surveillance, and observation was something he did every day. This was no different.) "I'm scared of leaving."

"You'll manage. You wouldn't allow yourself otherwise." He couldn't see her being irresponsible, couldn't see her not being her bossy self.

"Won't you ask me if I want to stay here?"

Her hair jerked when he huffed. "I was just getting there lassie."

"Ask away." Her smile wasn't the brightest he had seen from her, but it was bright.

"Do you want to stay?" He broke the comfortable silence.

"I am not that selfish to leave them behind." Her reply was paired with a tilted smile of wear and determination.

"Being here is leaving them behind."

"Only for a moment, while I sleep. I always return."

"Always?" She chuckled at his question, mirroring his raised brow.

"One needs to wake when dreaming. Unless you want to end up dead."

"And you wound me with making me ask."

"Oh, you're a big dragon. You can take it." She scrunched her nose, her eyes twinkling. A tease.

"Bigger objects are easier to destroy as long as you know how."

"You aren't an object."

"Tell me a story Susan Pevensie, before your sass or sarcasm kills me."

She laughed again. A mixture of amusement, relief and mocking clearly noted.

She told him of a boy named Arthur who became king because of a sword. Told him of a wizard Merlin and a beautiful woman named Guinevere. She told him of the intricate kingdom of Camelot and he listened. Her voice lured him to slumber and when he woke up, she was gone.

He didn't say goodbye and it was an itch that never faded. Maybe it was better, or maybe it wasn't.