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Chapter#5: Cat & Mouse

It had been a total of three days since Evangeline had spared Smaug, and he was already making a fair amount of progress. At one point he had grown angry at her again and had strained the wound on his wing, so she had to reapply more sealant. Other than that, his wounds were healing nicely. She would spend the mornings tending to her animals, and around noon she would go on a hunt. Admittedly, she felt a pang of guilt every time she released an arrow on the innocent creatures. Hunting for survival was one thing, but she couldn't help but feel torn with the fact she was hunting for a fire-breathing dragon, who deserved death more than any poor creature in the forest. Every time she would make a kill, she would kneel beside the creature and place her hand affectionately on its body right above its heart, and she would recite a prayer in the Elven tongue.

Smaug was a tough one to please, and his temper was shorter than a viper strike. The smallest of things could set him off, but she had been quickly learning how to calm him down for the most part. It was a relief he was still unable to breathe fire, which removed a huge pressure. All it came down to was a battle of wits. For the most part he cooperated with her, eating the food she gave him and allowing her to do whatever she had to do concerning his wounds. However, whenever she made a move to touch him otherwise, he would reject her every time.

"Good afternoon," she greeted him lightly, when she entered the cave that day.

"Afternoon," he replied coolly.

She walked over to his chest, like she always did when she arrived, and checked his wound. "Does it hurt at all when I apply pressure?" she asked him, as she pressed gently against the healing skin.

He turned his head to look back at her. "No. The sealant works well."

She stepped back and looked at him. "Can you extend your wing, please?"

He blew a small puff of air from his nostrils and shifted a bit before doing as she instructed. Lifting his arm, he stretched out the huge wing as far as the cave's walls would allow.

"Does that hurt?" she asked.

"No."

"Is there any discomfort at all?"

"Nothing close to the original pain," he answered shortly.

"Excellent. I don't think you should try flying yet, but you should be able to walk. Care to give it a go? You should start moving around every day."

He appeared surprised she was suggesting he get up. It was just three days ago he could barely catch his breath. It was pleasing to him that he was healing so quickly. Even he had to admit that the She-Elf was an excellent healer, even if she had a habit of working at his last nerve with her cheeky responses. Her eyes were always calm and kind, never paying much mind to his insults. This he found curious. Elves were a proud race—a race who often looked down on those who defied or offended them in any way. She lacked the arrogance, and her nose wasn't constantly stuck in the air like she was better than him.

With her instruction, he slowly got to his feet, and she watched as his muscles flexed when they held up his immense bulk. Evangeline watched him closely while he moved, walking around to his front as she looked him over with utter amazement. If she had thought he was huge before, now that he was standing he appeared even larger. What a magnificent beast, she thought. And he could very possibly be the last. In spite of his tyrannical personality, she was saddened at the thought.

"Do you feel anything unusual? Any discomfort? Shortness of breath?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his haughty tone and nodded. "Good. Follow me."

He followed her out of the cave wordlessly, ducking his head to avoid scraping it against the lower ceiling. The sun shined down on him in gentle streams once he was outside, warming his skin and face. He squinted slightly, for it was very bright compared to the cave, but the feeling of it was fresh. It was amazing how many smells were blocked by the cave's walls; the smell of the nearby stream, blooming plant life, and the faint aroma of animals. The air was clean, contrasting a pleasant difference from the stuffy, cramped cave. He followed the woman a little ways before she turned back to him and asked him to stop.

"Any discomfort?" she asked again.

"No. I must admit I am impressed by your healing expertise," he mused.

"Don't thank me until you're fully healed." She nodded over her shoulder. "Care to take a walk?"

He eyed her. "Where to?"

"There's a lake not far from here. If you feel comfortable doing so, it's a nice spot to bask in the sun."

She led him to the lake, which wasn't more than a half a mile over the hill. It opened up to a large pool, its waters sparkling in the gentle afternoon sun. The area was wide and open, allowing air to filter through freely, carrying with it all the scents of the land surrounding them. Their side was dense with forest, while across the lake the lands were open and green. A little ways down, a herd of wild horses grazed happily on the lush green grass, tails whipping about to swat the flies that tried nipping at their flanks. Long grasses grew around the boulders sitting at the edge of the water, where various winged insects perched to capture the sun.

Evangeline walked from the forest's edge and approached the water, kneeling down to run her hands through the shallow surface. Smaug followed, coming to stand at her side. He looked out at the open land on the other side of the lake with distant eyes. It was almost symbolic. He was figuratively trapped on the side of the lake dense with trees, while the other remained open and free. In reality, he would be able to cross the lake effortlessly, but he knew there wasn't much point. At least not yet. For now, he needed to remain patient.

"Relax." Evangeline patted his hand to get his attention, and he looked down at her. "I know what you're thinking, but you need to give yourself more time."

Snorting, he returned his gaze forward. "I feel like a finch in a cage."

A light chuckle escaped her, and it caused him to send her a sharp scowl.

"You are hardly a finch, Smaug. I know you are irked by the fact you are stuck here." She turned to him fully. "I also know that you hate me for having to depend on me, but what you don't understand is that injury does not make you weak. It makes you stronger."

He snorted.

"You're still a dragon. Sure, you might not be capable of breathing fire at the moment, but that doesn't make you vulnerable. You know that. You don't have to prove yourself to me, Smaug."

Rumbling deep in his throat, he turned his head, and then lowered it down to give her a closer look. "I suppose you have a point," he purred.

She almost smiled. She had known her words would stroke his ego, and she had done it on purpose. Anyone who knew a thing about dragons knew that the easiest way to remain in their good graces was to flatter them and keep them more interested in your words rather than your flesh. Yet admittedly she also did it out of sympathy. It could be seen in his eyes whenever he stared out of the cave, and now while he gazed out at the open land beyond. His self-image had been bruised, and it frustrated him he was weakened to such a point where he could not be at his full potential. She could feel it radiating from his body. He was restless. He thirsted for revenge—to return to the mountain—but aside from that she could tell he simply wanted to release energy. The tension had slowly been building up as he sat immobile in the cave, and now that suppressed energy was ready to break free.

And although Evangeline was pleased to see he was no longer in the grips of death, worry continued to scratch and bubble at the very back of her conscience. She wanted to see him get better. Dragons were fiercely scarce, and it would be a pity to see them gone forever. It was only her luck that Smaug happened to be the fiercest of their race, and he had a temper to match. In truth, she knew she may have made a very foolish decision in allowing the beast to live. It was clear as day in his bright eyes—he wanted revenge. He wanted to see Lake Town and the Dwarves suffer for what they did to him. Few, if any, had ever survived humiliating a fully-grown dragon. Her mind had been at work since the night she had met him, trying to figure out any possible way to keep him from returning to the mountains. It was a foolish thought, she knew, but something had made her help him. Something had screamed at her from far away, willing her to have mercy. She had never felt a force so strong, but she knew not to question it. It was the one and only thing that gave her hope. There was a reason Smaug had been brought into her life. What his purpose was, she did not know, but somehow—deep down—she knew she had made the right decision.

She watched as he lay down on the lake's bank, and he bowed his long neck to drink from the sparkling waters. Large ripples traveled across the water's surface as he drank, and she couldn't help but wonder what she was to do with him. It was a maddening mystery what was to happen to her and others once he was healed. She barely had control over him now. Dragons. She had finally decided to settle down after years of constant travel, and she is given a dragon. Sighing, she walked to the water's edge and knelt down once more. She cupped the crystal clear liquid in her hands and brought it up to splash it in her face. Because she was preoccupied, she missed the sideways glance Smaug sent her, or the way he shifted very subtly until his clawed hand was positioned behind her. She never saw it coming, and the last thing she knew she was soaking wet after being pushed into the water.

Smaug snorted back a laugh as she sputtered, the sight of her drenched form pleasing him greatly. She looked positively pathetic, as water streamed from her clothes and skin. Her hair hung over her shoulders and down her back in soaked tresses like dark rivers, a few stray strands sticking to her wet face. After a moment, she had turned her head up to him with a frown, her large, forest green orbs piteous. He merely ignored her, acting innocent as he continued to drink like he hadn't noticed a thing. His good moods had been restored.

At least until he felt something cold, slick, and wet smack him right next to the eye. He lifted his head with a surprised snort, and his eyes darted directly to the woman when he heard her laughter. Almost in the same second he saw a small, dark shape darting through the water, and it was then he realized what had just happened.

"Did you just throw a fish at my face?"

"No."

He was about to snarl at her for daring to lie to him, but he stopped when he saw her eyes. They were alight with a strange glow, a glow which complimented the sweet smile that caressed her lips. It became very clear to him at that moment that she knew full well he could see straight through her; that she knew he knew she had thrown the fish at him. For a moment, he did nothing more than stare at her. Once again he found himself bewildered with this tiny creature's behavior, as he realized she was only playing with him. Playing. Not defying—not mocking—merely having fun. He could see it in her face.

"What's wrong, Smaug?" she said, and he could hear the tease in her voice. "Don't you ever have fun?"

She smacked her arm through the water, splashing him. It was a pathetic little spit of water against his size, but it meant all the same. He stood up, looking down at her as if she had grown six heads. His first reaction had been anger, but now he didn't know what to think. No one had ever attempted to fool around with him before, and here this woman was. She knew he could crush her with a single finger, but she continued to display no fear. It was bizarre, if a bit maddening.

"There is something wrong with you, elf," he said at last, his voice holding a blunt edge.

She plashed him again, this time getting him in the face, and he drew back with an affronted expression. Lifting his hand, he slapped the water, and she was swallowed in a small wave of water that knocked her down. He let out a short snort. It served her right. Perhaps now she would leave him alone. He watched with smug eyes as she got back to her feet in the shallow water, his splash having knocked her off her feet. What he had expected was for her to back down, or at the very least be sore he had knocked her backwards, but no. Pushing her hair back out of her face, she splashed him again, her laughter returning. He shook his head when her splash of water went into his nose, which only caused her laughter to rise.

"Woman!" he snapped.

"Have some fun, you overgrown salamander!"

"I will crush you."

"Prove it!" She splashed him in the face, and then she bolted from the water. A hiss escaped him, and he was up in an instant. She ran at a full sprint down the bank, only getting a moment's head start before he was after her. When he came too close, she made a sharp right and dove into the lake, taking him off guard as she disappeared into the water. A series of ripples followed where she had dove, and he was left looking around for her silhouette in the deeper water. He didn't consider that she was waiting for him to lower his head, because he was deeply taken aback when she suddenly appeared and spit a mouthful of water right into his face. He barely had time to widen his eyes before she was gone, and he had swiped at the now empty water in attempt to grab her. Their game had continued for another few minutes before he finally managed to snatch her out of the water. But when she had challenged him to see if he could catch her again, he hadn't been able to decline. Reluctantly, he had let her go… well… more of dropped her back into the water. She had resurfaced only briefly to smirk up at him before diving once more.

This game of cat and mouse continued for awhile. Smaug had caught her again, but the game stroked his ego, so he had released her once more. It became a matter of how many times he could prove he could catch her. Evangeline was more than happy to entertain him, each dive just as enthusiastic as the last. In truth, she had let him catch her a couple times, but she made sure not to make it so easy that he figured out she was letting him win. After awhile, it had become apparent he was starting to enjoy their activity as well. The glint in his eyes was almost playful as he splashed around trying to capture her. Anyone who saw him would probably think he was trying to rip apart the large fish that occupied the lake's water, not that he was toying with a small She-Elf. After capturing her for the sixth time, however, he had decided he'd had enough. He set her down on the ground before lying down on the long grass beneath the swaying vines of the trees. The sun was just beginning to set in the horizon, and he stretched out his wings to his sides. Evangeline knew this was how dragons basked in the sun, their wings acting as solar panels. He was absorbing the last couple hours of sunlight left.

She walked over and sat down at a comfortable distance beside his head, ignoring the clingy sensation of her wet clothes sticking to her body. A refreshed feeling washed over her body as she breathed in deeply, inhaling the smells in the air. Her game with Smaug had left her feeling tired but exercised. She had been a little apprehensive at first, but she had relaxed after he began to enjoy himself as well. It was amazing to her how he could blindly snatch her from the water without leaving so much as a scratch on her. Those claws were like spears. One false move, and she could have been skewered. Smaug laid with his eyes closed, enjoying the gentle warmth of the sun as it warmed his scales. He had felt a little short of breath after his games with the little She-Elf, but it was nothing close to what he had felt days ago. Admittedly, he had enjoyed the Elf's company that day, even though he would not admit it to her. He had never participated in such innocent activities in all his years, and once she had gotten him into it he had even allowed himself to grow a mischievous smirk as he chased her. It had been a drastic change from his usual games, which included death, fire, and mayhem, but it had been a pleasant change.

And so he had humored her, and she had humored him. Now they rested together on the grassy banks of the huge lake in a comfortable silence, watching as the sun gradually set beyond the horizon. The warm oranges, pinks, and gold colors that filled the sky were a vibrant contrast to the dark, grey, ominous shadows the night he had arrived, and he found himself drifting into a deep sleep to the sound of the gentle trickle of the waters and the soft melody Evangeline hummed to herself as she braided her hair.

I realize the first few chapters may have been a bit slow, but they will start to pick up now that Smaug is healing. Dragons are naturally fast healers, and he will be causing more trouble soon! Those who have read the book know that a war is brewing near Erebor. What does that mean for Smaug and Evangeline? ;) I appreciate reviews! It means a lot if you just take a moment to leave a comment. They can be very helpful!