Susan was shooting arrows at a dwarven-carved wooden chair in one of the great halls of Erebor. Smaug had heard her frustrated breathing and the continuous twang of arrows being drawn. The sounds woke him and made him curious. He knew it was Susan of course, few would dare enter the mountain not knowing the ways. Susan was the only one who was ever lost in the mountain, if there was another… then it would be easy work.

"What sin had the chair done to incur your wrath Susan Pevensie?" He approached her with booming footsteps but her concentration didn't falter. Arrow after arrow, she drew and released without pause. Her back was straight and her stance could rival that of the elves. Everything about her could rival the elves and overthrow the mortal women, from her long hair and beauty to her reserved speech and gentle actions. He watched and waited for her quiver to empty, wondering what had pushed her to such activity. Was it because she was lost that she did this to call his attention? Why did she not call instead? Mentally, he counted the minutes and found that her quiver wasn't emptied. It wasn't until the chair's back was filled with red fletched arrows did she stop.

"A magicked quiver, never to empty. Your Father Christmas is someone I would like to meet."

She was quiet and strode to the chair, intent of picking each one of her arrows and stuffing them back her quiver with measured movements.

"What sin had the chair done to you Susan?" She loved evading his questions or maybe loved making him repeat himself. Why didn't he stop with repeating? He needed the answers, because she gave him honesty or at least a degree of it.

"Being there when I needed it."

"What need?"

"A target practice." Her cheeks were red from exertion and sweat dotted her brow. She was wearing green this time and it hugged her figure like a glove. Whoever sewed her dresses knew how to accentuate her beauty even more.

"Whose head were you seeing?" He folded his arms and set his head on it. He let her once again resume her stance and string her bow to shoot.

"A lord's son who thought that butchering poetry and verse would earn him my hand in marriage."

Smaug raised his head and considered her. He shouldn't be surprised (he wasn't) that she would earn suitors. He really should've expected it especially with beauty, wisdom and youth rolled into one. He should've known that she would grow and would seek companions, would've a family of her own. That he, Smaug the Stupendous, was only her dream dragon.

"And how many is your tally of suitors?"

"A good number." Twang.

"Can you give me a definite one?" For all the dreams she had shared with him, he thought that she would at least give her answers easily.

"Twenty-four."

His head raised higher. Three more arrows were released. "Since you have come of age?"

"Some even before."

"And how old are you?"

"I came of age a few days after our last meeting. I was eighteen. I am now twenty-two."

"Your beauty must've been well known. Do you have Kings and Princes as your suitors?"

"Kings, princes, lords, noblemen, merchants, whoever you can think of."

"And you have not found anyone to be your husband? Among Kings and Princes that could and would give you everything?"

"I have everything they could give me. What I want are things they haven't even thought of. Or are capable of, for that matter."

"And that is?"

"Love, but that is too presumptuous for someone like me." She chuckled, once again pulling her arrows off the chair. "A quick mind and an understanding heart would be one… I think. Someone who knows the darkness and knows that I walk among it."

"For a heroine, you have your work cut out for you. You set high standards for men, dear child. For women's beauty as well."

"I am not most beautiful. There is Queen Swanwhite, which the books call the most beautiful. When she look on a lake's surface, her reflection would stay there for a year or so."

"And you believe it?"

"The centaurs remember her beauty and the fauns still speak of her with reverence. Who am I to not believe?"

"A beautiful woman of her own kind, incomparable."

She laughed at his words. "Charming aren't you so suddenly, Smaug?"

"Surely Peter protects you?" He settled once again, her words still echoing in his ears. Charming? Of course he could be.

"Yes, and Edmund. Lucy too. I can fend for myself just fine."

"How fare they? Your brothers and sister?"

She approached him this time, wiping her forehead with her arm and a relaxed smile on her face.

"Life is good to us." She perched on his side like clockwork, echo of all their previous meetings. A comfortable silence that couldn't be thwarted. "Peter was given place in the military. Edmund spends his time in Narnian court. Lucy was granted an opportunity to excel in healing."

"What of Light and Shadow?"

She studied him, which was nothing new since they've been doing that ever since day one, and another relieved chuckle came. "Thank Aslan and Narnia, they exist and maybe even breathe abreast each other. They're a power to behold when they work together. It doesn't mean that they no longer fight, when they do it would be hard to pinpoint unless you know the signs. Peter would be easy, he's open with his emotions, he actually runs with it. Edmund, is indeed like shadow, he would keep his emotions in a little box for as long as he could and his mind would be the one you would see raging."

"And you?"

"Me?"

"You bear weapons, do you join Peter in being a warrior?"

"No. I work with him in some matters, but fighting is rarely one of them. I work more closely with Ed and Lu. I look after the Narnians and make sure that they gain as much allies as they could."

Smaug hummed in approval at the carefully scattered fields that they hold responsibility in. "So this is where the suitors come in?"

She huffed and scrunched her nose in irritation once more. His rumble of a chuckle resonated in the hall.

"Smaug?"

"What is it Lady Pevensie?" She was once again on her feet, looking up to the high ceiling and down to the columns that were ever remarkable from their simple sheer size to their workmanship.

"Can you tell me of stories of this place? Who lived here and what they did? Why this kingdom you stole?"

He told her the answers she sought. Of why gold was always the reason and that no one could covet on it as much as he would, and that he proved it with King Thror. He told her of how he had walked the streets of Dale observing and waiting for the right time. He told her how gold and treasure were a dwarf's life. He told her of the good things too. Of the feasts the King would give to everyone, may it be dwarf or a citizen of Dale. He told her of the trading affiliation of the city and the kingdom. He spoke of peace and plenty.

"And you came as their downfall." Susan whispered when silence was given a chance to reign.

He nodded.

He told her of the gold sickness and spoke of how he could feel it from miles away. How he, as a dragon, was stricken of it too, but not in a madness that could destroy. (Susan chuckled at this, sarcastic and wounding.) Told her about the Princeling and his defeat. He painted their horrified faces with his words and he felt within him a delight so twisted.

"Narnia too has dwarves. They too are great craftsmen. They too are proud of their craft. They are Narnian though, so they are not a separate entity or kingdom so they still answer to Narnian laws. There are many similarities between them and the previous tenants of this place. I am not so sure about the gold sickness though."

"A full grown male dwarf, especially if he is on the taller side, would be your height."

That made her catch her breath.

"Are Narnian dwarves different?"

"The tallest I've met or seen is up to my waist."

"Another notable difference then."

"Do you ever get bored in this place, all alone? I think all you do is sleep and wander around."

"Close, but you also come and go as the wind to entertain me."

"An honor." She rolled her eyes at that and he was sure she would even give him a mocking curtsy if she allowed herself.

"I also fly out and set terror on some unfortunate place when I am bored."

She laughed. "A bringer of death you become because of gold and boredom. What a motivation."

"Do you fear me then? As you fear Death?"

"We do not fear Death, nor do we seek his coming, If it is time for us to meet him, then we meet him as an old friend."

"A perspective worthy of admiration, if only there are more like you in this world."

How hypocritical.

He asked her many things about her Narnia and she provided him answers easily. In return, he let her ask questions of Middle Earth. He painted her the world that was outside the mountain. He showed her through words of the dangers and the vileness. Told her a little history of how there was no Aslan or any equivalent in this place. Whoever made this world had abandoned them. She would laugh and smile, but never did he saw her shed any tear. Sometimes her laughter sounded warped and he relished the sound, delighted to the truth that she too was sinister and that she knew it.

"Would there be anything else you wish to ask?" Because the silence would mean that the time of goodbyes was coming. He had realized that he wanted her here, that his question of her staying was no longer a jest or a speculation.

"I am saving up for next time."

"Do you wish to stay?"

"And die of boredom? I am no dragon."

"You can help me find ways to alleviate it." If he was in his human form, which thankfully he was not, his smile would be too suggestive and roguish. In his dragon form it was all threatening and fangs.

"Visit my reality next time, I'll gladly show you how we have fun."

"Would I earn something in return?"

"Depends on the price." A game. It's been a long time since he felt the anticipation of being challenged and here was Susan weaving a game of her own conscious. Oh, she knew she was setting the game up. "Let me see you in Narnia first, then we'll decide."

"Such a challenge." He purred.

"I hope you victory."

He would make her pay the price.