Disclaimer: The Hobbit and its characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkien.
SO SORRY! Sorry to those who might be confused where the Cat & Mouse chapter went. I had posted it, and after awhile I began to feel like things were moving too fast between Evangeline and Smaug. So, that will be the next chapter (Chapter 5). I will have chapter 6 up within the week to make up for it. And please, if you are reading, take a moment to review. They encourage me to write more if I know people are enjoying the story. Have a lovely day, loves! xoxo
Chapter#4: Quiet Conversation
Smaug was furious. He had awoken late in the afternoon when he had become vaguely aware of a prodding at his belly. When he had opened his eyes and lifted his head to see it was the She-Elf, at first he had been curious as to what she was doing. Then he saw it. One of the gems that had been embedded in his underbelly was laying flat in her hand as she examined it with a furrowed brow. In an instant he had been on his feet, the sudden movement startling her as her head snapped up to him with alarmed eyes. She barely had time to move before he had grabbed her, and she was lifted high off the ground to his eyelevel as he growled in her face menacingly.
"You dare steal from me, Elf?" he hissed at her viciously.
"I wasn't—"
He cut her off by snarling in her face. "Do not lie to me! I saw the gem in your hand! An emerald, to be exact. Did you not think I would catch you, thief?"
"I wasn't stealing from you!" she yelled, finally getting a word in. She wriggled her arm until it was free from his grip and held the large gem up for his view. It was the size of her hand, a stunning specimen. "Emeralds are healing stones. They can be used for eye, back, and heart problems. I merely took it, because I was planning to use it on you!"
He glared at her as she pointed down at a spot on his underbelly, where multiple gems and gold pieces still remained wedged between his scales.
"I was hoping to grab a crystal that I had saw, because they help amplify the abilities of other stones. I didn't wake you only because you appeared tired."
"You expect me to believe what you say?" he hissed.
"If you don't believe me, let me show you," she said, her voice having quieted to a calmer level. Her eyes were firm as she stared him down. "I will return the gems to you. I care not for stolen treasure." As she said the last bit, he had taken note of the faint contempt in her voice, and it sent a spark of anger that melded with his pride, together forming a dangerous mixture.
In the blink of an eye, he had her pressed to the ground under his hand, and he saw her flinch as he roared down at her. He glowered down at her, seething, wanting nothing more than to crush her beneath his hand like a bug—but he couldn't. Damn her, he simply couldn't put that extra weight into his hand. Every time he wished to harm her, he remembered her kind green eyes the night she had found him in the cave—staring at him with a gentle compassion. Not a hint of malice could be detected in her eyes, even though she had known who he was. He had sensed her fear when she first saw him as she peeked around the corner, but once she had realized he was hurt her fear had morphed into sympathy. And damn her did he hate her for it. Never before had he hesitated to kill, but then again no one had ever done for him what this woman had. Without her, he would have been dead. Even dragons knew respect in situations as bold as that, and he knew he could not kill her. She had spared him, and whether he liked it or not he was in her debt. And if that wasn't enough to make him hate her with his every being….
She was a strong-spirited little thing, he had to admit. He could tell when someone was lying to him as if there were a large red sigh painted across their fronts, but he knew she was telling the truth. She hadn't been stealing from him, and he almost wished she had been. Then at least he could unleash his rage upon her. Yet once again it turned out she was only trying to help him. It never ceased to baffle him, and after another long few minutes of him staring at her he had at last set her down on the ground—but he didn't release his hold on her just yet.
"You will put them back once you are finished," he said, and although his voice was calm anyone should be able to detect the threat in his voice. When she nodded in agreement, he loosened his hand, and she wriggled out of his grip.
It was amazing to Smaug how easily she recovered from his bursts of rage. It had always left others cowering in his presence, but not her. It was like she knew him. He did not like it. After she had done some sort of ritual with the stones, uttering quiet words in Elvish, she had proceeded to apply the leaves to his wound. By now the skin was practically healed, as was his wing. He could move around without feeling like he would tear the skin open, and after she had returned the stones as promised, she had sat down in the wagon, which she cleaned after every hunt.
Evangeline could sense Smaug's confusion as she sat against the back of the wagon, a leather-bound book in her hands. She had been working on a sketch of him as he stared out the cave, seemingly unaware of what she was doing. It was when he was staring outside like this that she could see his true colors—when he wasn't aware she was watching. One of the first things she had come to realize was that he was incredibly homesick. He wanted nothing more than to take flight back to the Misty Mountains, but he could not. She had seen an array of emotions as he had her pinned to the ground just hours ago. It was clear from the red fire that swam in his golden orbs that he had wanted to crush her, but something had held him back, revealing the confusion, frustration, and even compliance that lay within him. All who knew him knew him as a creature of pure evil, but Evangeline did not believe any creature was capable of true evil. Dragons were highly misunderstood creatures, but she was one of the few who did understand. They were very prideful—more so than most kings—and were very easily insulted or angered. They were a dominant race. That was all. Dragons were not mindless killers. Like any other species, they marked their territory, and once they had claimed it they left others alone unless one dared to challenge them. The humble Lake Town had been left untouched until the Dwarves dared to enter the mountain. Of course, she could not blame them for wanting to reclaim their homeland, but if they had never come along the people of Lake Town would have probably never seen Smaug ever again. If Smaug was truly pure evil, he would have taken out the men of Lake Town simply for sport.
And he would have killed her by now.
She knew. It had not evaded her attention how he had struggled with himself when pinning her beneath his claws. She knew he had hoped she hadn't noticed, so she had not commented on it. It had become clear to her then that he was restraining from harming her, because she had saved his life. At first she had been shocked he would even care to acknowledge her mercy, but apparently even dragons had morals—if hazardously limited. She was helping him, and so he had given her a shred of his respect in return. To most it would seem like nothing, but to her it meant more than the worth of any gold piece.
"What are you working on, there?"
His voice caused her to blink from her little reverie, and she looked at him. It took her a moment to realize what he had said was a question, but she had been so lost in thought that she hadn't caught it. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought. What did you say?"
He nodded loosely to the book in her lap. "What is that in your lap?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Just a few sketches."
"May I see?"
Frankly, it surprised her he gave a rat's ass, but she knew there would be no denying him. So, she scooted off the wagon and walked over to stand before him. He waited patiently as she flipped back the page and held it up for him to see, and he leaned closer. The first sketch she showed him was the one she had been working on, and she watched silently as his eyes scanned over each individual detail. She had seen the brief flash of surprise cross over his features when he saw she had drawn him, and it had quickly turned to fascination. She had transferred his every last detail onto the page, right down to the missing scale on his left breast. It was amazing to him how much she had taken in, capturing traits even he didn't know he possessed.
"Show me more," he commanded softly.
She nodded and smiled before flipping the page. The book also included an extremely detailed close-up of his eye, as well as multiple sketches of a kingdom he could only guess was an Elven kingdom. Multiple elves were also featured—probably relatives or close friends. Her perspective on the world around her was fascinating. She could capture the entire forest in a single picture. He commented here and there on her skill, or he would question the identities of the buildings and people, and she would answer with detailed responses. He could tell she enjoyed talking about these things, often laughing or smiling when the image would remind her of a humorous story, which she would share with him. It was a bit surprising to him how willing she seemed to be to share her life with him, but he listened to every detail with genuine interest. As she talked, she would draw little shapes and images in the dirt to give him a better perspective, and she made an array of different motions with her arms and hands. The woman was a natural born story teller, and at one point he had almost smiled at her enthusiasm. Slowly, he was beginning to grow faintly fond of the woman, even if he did not know it yet himself.
"Why didn't you run when you saw me?" he asked later that night, with an edge of interest.
Evangeline looked at him from beside the fire she had made. "I did at first."
"What made you turn back?"
She considered him a moment. "When you didn't follow me… I assumed something must be wrong. I went back to investigate and saw you were wounded."
"But what made you assist me?" He couldn't hold back his curiosity. "Surely you must know that once I am healed I will travel back to reclaim the mountain."
Evangeline bit her lip at his words, but she answered his question nonetheless. "I guess I made myself see past the fact you were a dragon. I saw you as a creature of this earth, and that was enough for me." At his stare she could tell he was not fully satisfied, so she continued, "I have seen many things in my days. I have seen a lot of death, and I have seen a great deal of love, peace, and beauty. People fear what they don't understand. I have seen them kill and destroy anything they do not understand, because it scares them. Dragons, for example… they are the tyrants of the sky. When your kind was in numbers, I watched many fall when they had done no more than pass by… because people fear them. I once heard a group of hunters ruthlessly kill a nest of hatchlings that hadn't so much as left their nest yet. Poor little things. You are the first dragon I have seen for nearly two centuries. Men accuse so many creatures of evil… but that is not what I see. If anything, I would say men are the worst of them all."
Smaug, who had been listening intently, eyed her with a calculating gaze. She couldn't quite decipher what she saw in those brilliant eyes, but she had a feeling he was trying to figure her out.
"You were alive during the age of the fire drakes?"
She set him with a curious stare at his sudden change in topic. "Yes."
He considered her with a quiet interest, but he did not question her further. Turning his head, he returned his gaze out into the world outside the cave once more. Evangeline knew it would have been wise to leave him be after that, but her own curiosity was beginning to get the better of her. She had seen something in his eyes when she had mentioned the dragons, and if she didn't know better… she would have said he almost looked poignant.
"Do you ever grow lonely, Smaug?" she asked quietly.
He turned his head back to her.
"I mean… for sixty years you were in that mountain. Did you never miss the outside world? Did you never grow bored or crave conversation?"
He stared at her, seeming confused she would even care to ask. "Even if I did, there aren't many on this earth I would care to have a conversation with."
That wasn't an answer to her question, but she took the hint and didn't press any further. The corners of her mouth did lift the slightest bit, however. "Too bad. I rather enjoy our conversations… when you're not trying to kill me, that is."
Realizing she was trying to lift his mood, which she had apparently noticed had darkened, he once again found himself eyeing her. As he understood she was trying to cheer him up, he almost went so far as to smile at her. Almost.