authors note: This is the longest chapter yet, and I took a bit of artistic license with it, but for the story to really progress it would eventually be necessary. Please review!
Chapter Six:
There was no way of knowing the time of day. Maybe she could measure time by the intervals at which Smaug slept, but it was unlikely the dragon did anything on a reliable schedule. He didn't seem the type to be ruled by basic needs like sleep or hunger. In truth, there was no true reason for Nalene to need to know the time of day. Her days were empty of responsibilities. Nothing demanded her attention besides her dry throat, curling stomach, and dropping eyelids. Being able to measure time only appealed to her because it would be settling, it would be a fragment of how her life used to be.
Smaug was sleeping again. She tiptoed around him. He hadn't woken since she'd shared her name, and that had to have been at least a day ago. While she appreciated the tentative peace that filled her as Smaug slept, a part of her also wished he would wake on his own volition and spare her from doing it herself. She was torn- was it better to starve in safety or risk waking the slumbering tyrant?
But she was so hungry. How stupid had she been to pretend she could last without food. Already she felt weak and tired. Even more distressing, her bones protruded from her skin in the worst ways. This sort of condition couldn't be good for her skin. Valar forbid there be any lasting effects. Still, she was hopeful. If, for whatever reason it ended up being, she got food, Nalene still believed she could regain the weight she'd lost.
Vain, yes, she had always been, but how could one not cherish their appearance when they looked like she did? Besides, she was a princess now wasn't she, and who was more vain than them?
Starvation would be a wretched death, even she, who never before had hungered for more than a few hours, knew this. For obvious reasons beyond her beauty, she never wanted to go that way. Childishly, she would prefer she never have to 'go' but she knew better now. Nalene had learned a thing or two in the past days. Including how heavily all people relied on food. Nalene wouldn't wait any longer. Before she had clung to pieces of her pride and pretended she could live on the water. A fool in denial, she inwardly swore. Now it felt as though her insides were chewing themselves up. She was so hungry.
"So hungry," she complained aloud, clutching her grumbling stomach. The gold around her was worthless if she couldn't have any food. Worthless. How long could Smaug go between meals, Nalene wanted to know. Much longer than her, she'd bet.
Famished and irritated, she hovered beside a massive wing. The proximity had her on edge, like standing on a cliff, it brought forth an alertness she was unused to. The heat on her face was almost uncomfortable. He was sprawled out, not an inch of defensiveness in his position. She spent her nights curled into a ball, fearful and uncomfortable, but he was stretched out, a massive wall of gold and red scales, all perfectly grooved together. He was no less intimidating in his unconscious state, but in a way when he looked more like a massive, simple-minded animal than the cunning creature she knew he was. At a first glance Smaug looked like a dumb, but dangerous beast. First impressions were famously incorrect, though- Nalene would not underestimate his intelligence.
Most people she knew hated to be disturbed in their sleep, herself included. How would a dragon react?
She reached out to poke him but held back at the last second, considering. Nothing had happened to her when he'd carried her in his claws the first day they'd met, but scales were different from claws. How wise would it be to touch him without knowing the potential consequences. She'd heard of toads and other vermin with poisonous skin. Who knew what lay in a dragon's. It would not be wise at all, she surmised, eyeing the scales skeptically.
But she did not retract her hand. Instead she steeled her nerves. She was hungry. Too hungry.
The scales felt like stones heated by the midday sun, and her whole palm covered just a single scale. The heat soaked right through her makeshift bandages, making the torn skin tingle. Not wholly unpleasant.
With a deep breath she pushed.
Smaug didn't move.
It'd admittedly been a feeble shove, and when her hand didn't burst into flames she risked a second stronger push. Again, nothing happened. In her unease a discomforting idea came to her. Then, a faint sense of astonishment filling her, she gave a third, a fourth, and a fifth shove, each one stronger than the last. Not believing it- with her luck, her misfortune, was it good if he was dead?- she scrambled to where his head rested, coiled up near his tail.
Immediately, her face fell. He was very much alive; warm air still escaped his nostrils rhythmically. Feeling incredibly silly, she took the moment to study him.
Nobody, Nalene thought, could ever honestly call Smaug unimpressive. Her guard down- it was apparent he would not wake easily- she leaned forward, face scrunching in her examination. To her wonder she noticed each scale had small curves to it. Like fingerprints, Nalene thought as she followed the contours of his face. The ridges surrounding Smaug's eyes curved smoothly into horns, and none of the scales looked frayed or disorderly. The way he was built was almost systematic, each scale or horn exactly where it belonged.
"Sort of... pretty," she muttered. A moment later her words registered within Nalene and she blinked, pulling away from the sleeping dragon with a frown. He wasn't some finely crafted statue to marvel at, she inwardly scolded, he was a killer. Besides, she silently retorted, pretty was hardly the word for him. She'd already called him impressive, but what other word described him better? A second later her lips pursed. Evil was apt as well.
Then, to her horror, Smaug moved. It was only a faint movement, and for a split second Nalene thought maybe it was nothing, but she was not that lucky. His nose twitched, and with an ominous exhale, Smaug's eyes snapped open. He shifted, gold cascading down with the faint clink's around him, and his eyes found hers.
"What are you doing?"
Her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Valar kill strike her down if he'd been awake to hear her call him pretty. She wanted to run away and pretend he'd never woken, pretend she hadn't been curious about him, but Smaug was waiting, and there was nowhere to hide. She did her best to compose herself. He didn't look angered, at least, but there was an underlying wariness in his demeanor.
"Nothing." Her previous boldness was gone, and she began fiddling with the edges of her bandages while she tried avoiding his eyes. It was impossible though, they were nearly half her size in diameter, and they followed each of her movements with a hawk-like watchfulness. His attention unnerved and annoyed her; one minute it seems he's forgotten her and the next she can't escape his study.
"Nothing?" Disbelief mingled with scorn in his tone, but she said nothing in reply. He eyed her in muted contemplation before he snorted, huffing a cloud of smoke into her face. "Don't waste our time with your lies. You clearly have something to say, so say it."
She didn't.
"Ask me," he coaxed. "The hardest part is over. I'm awake, that's what you wanted, isn't it? And now I'm curious. What lured the mouse to the dragon? Should I call you that: mouse? I did find you in a field. Speak up, field mouse, before I fall asleep."
She struggled within herself. Despite his mockery, there was an undeniable reason to his words. There was no reason aside cowardice to not say what she'd come to now.
"I am in a dilemma," she admitted, and a glint appeared in his eyes.
"Go on."
"It's been a few days since you...brought me here...and even longer since I've eaten..."
"You try so hard not to offend me. Were you taught to always retain your polite manners? I never use them, never had any, never needed to. You flatter me with your 'O Smaug the Magificent's,' and your talent for skirting around the topic. Do you think this will save you?" He smiled, a malicious display of teeth that negated whatever benign amusement he felt. "Did I never tell you? I have no intention of killing you."
"You don't?"
"I don't think so," he mused.
She wrung her hands, surprised by the turn in the conversation. "Think is still a very tentative term. Will you forgive me if I wait for a more definite answer?"
"Yes," he said wryly. "I imagine I could forgive you."
"That is... good to hear... but as I was saying, it has been many days since I've eaten and there is no food here..."
There was a pause before he spoke. "Are you saying you're hungry?"
His phrasing made Nalene hesitant as well. "Yes?"
"It hasn't been a week," he objected.
Nalene blinked, bewildered by his apparent confusion. A week was plenty long- but then Nalene remembered. He didn't seem like the type to be ruled by basic needs like sleep or hunger. Sure, he slept, but when was the last time he'd eaten? More than a week ago.
"So you didn't know?" So he didn't know she was starving in front of he?
"Know what?"
She backtracked quickly, composing herself. "Nothing, I was just- nothing." But as she spoke, she found herself inspecting him, looking for something she hadn't seen before. She'd been fuming and worrying over what she would do if her captor intended to let her starve- fuming because how dare he, how dare anyone, why did this have to happen to her, worrying, because even she knew starvation was a painful way to die. And now she learn was learning that he might not plan to let her die at all, that she'd be wrong.
But even as she felt relief washing over her, she refused to feel grateful. She wouldn't be without food in the first place if it weren't for him.
"So you'll get me something to eat?"
He propped his head against the gold as he assessed her. What was he looking for, she wanted to know. "It doesn't take you long to return to your royal roots. Audacious enough to suggest that I serve you," he said snidely, but his harsh words were accompanied by a layer of amusement. "I think I preferred you when you were too timid to form complete sentences. "
"No, I wasn't-"
Her cut her off, eyes scanning her skeptically. "Are you really so helpless?"
"I don't..."
"Don't understand," he finished. "Yes, I'm not surprised."
His condescending tone was not appreciated, but she was beginning to suspect he always sounded that way.
"So you need my help?" If not for the constant growl in his voice he might have sounded pleased.
As he spoke it resonated within her that she was helpless. She was relying on him to keep her fed and it was an appalling prospect. Nalene had to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything she would regret. He was enjoying this, she thought, but she masked this bitterness as she nodded to him.
A low grumble came from his throat as he stared at her unblinkingly. Nalene stared back, taking in the collage of colors in his eyes. Amber, bronze, copper, gold. Mesmerizing.
Suddenly remembering herself, Nalene jerked back, puzzled. It was like staring at the sun, she thought as she rubbed her eyes to avoid Smaug who was still watching her. Worried about what expression she'd worn in her moment of... distraction... she schooled her features into a more fitting petulance.
"So you'll help me?" She prompted, disliking the intensity of his stare. What was he looking at? Seconds ticked by, and she grew increasingly uneasy. Was he doing it to annoy her? Scare her?
"I will," he agreed, and then his eyes closed.
It was clearly a dismissal, but Nalene had gone this far and her stomach was still growling.
"Excuse me," she said, breaking the silence. When one tawny eye peeled open she cleared her throat, praying he'd keep his word and not flippantly kill her. "I would, um... well I'm hungry now. I was hoping you would get my food now." The eye narrowed, and she quickly amended, "or soon?"
Now his other eye popped open, and she had his full attention.
He thinks you're a princess, she reminded herself. Act like one.
"I've never gone this long without food. Maybe you can, but I can't." He continued to stare at her, and Nalene wished he'd say something. She would prefer his mocking to this unreadable silence. She tucked her hands behind her back to hid their shaking. "When I alerted you to my hunger I was expecting you to help me, um... right away."
He finally spoke, his voice laced with steel as he challenged, "Is that a command, little princess?"
She gulped. Had she been too assertive, too princess-like? Behind her back her fingers dug into the the material of he dress, making her cuts sting. "A suggestion," she whispered. She stared at her feet, waiting for him to erupt in anger when she heard him hiss, "fine," accompanied by the sounds of him moving.
Confused, Nalene forced herself to look up and was just in time to see Smaug rising to his full height, Nalene craning her neck to see treasure cascading over his bulking sides as he emerged from the gold he'd been half buried in. When the last of the treasure finally hit the floor, and it was quiet again, Smaug shocked her by laughing.
It was half a growl, half a snort, and it sounded like a rock slide doused in chuckles. Nalene was bewildered. Of all his reactions, she had not expected laughter, and she suspected her eyes were nearly as wide as his as she stared. He was clearly mad, Nalene found herself thinking, not seeing another explanation for his erratic behavior. The years of solitude and cruelty had driven him insane.
"A suggestion," he mimicked as he peered down at her with renewed interest, and Nalene was dimly wondering if she would prefer him angry. "So you suggest I go find you some food, is that it?" He snorted again, apparently infinity entertained by this. "And have you even thought about where I'll get you food?"
He found his answer in her dazed expression. She hadn't given it any thought at all. In retrospect, maybe she should have.
"Our definitions of food are a little different," he warned her, something sinister in his tone. "Don't look too worried, little mouse. I can get your food. I could. Do you want to see? I've seen you talking to yourself- I've heard you. You humans are susceptible to solitude, always falling ill from something, driving you insane."
"As insane as you," she shocked herself by saying, even as she struggled to comprehend him. Smaug sneered, puling his teeth on display as his neck slithered around her. There was a wing to her left, a claw to her right, and hot air was puffing down at her. She was trapped, enclosed in a cage of red scales.
"Oh I'm completely sane. Only one thing turns dragon's insane," he said darkly, weaving around her as he gazed at the glittering ground beneath them both. "And it isn't loneliness." In a flurry of motion, waves of scales were suddenly whipping past her as Smaug unwound and shot in front of her, Nalene nearly giving herself whiplash as she tried following his movements. Finally, he stilled, and Nalene could focus in on him, was close enough to reach out and touch him. Then Smaug was gone, and right in front of her eyes the space he'd previously occupied became empty of scales, claws, and wings.
Without a massive dragon filling in the chamber's halls it's size was magnified, it's depth overwhelming, and it was suddenly very quiet, very empty.
She was frozen, all her blood simultaneously feeling as though it was rushing towards and away from her face. Then she was blinking, and she it occurred to her that if this was a story or play she would be fainting. Only this was real, and Nalene stayed firmly on two feet.
It was him, still somehow managing to tower over her in a mountain of muscle and arrogance. How he managed it she'd never understand, but even reduced to these six or seven feet he radiated the same strength he had moments before; he was a smaller Smaug, condensed into a human form, but it was utterly him. The dark skin he wore was clearly his red and gold scales, a hue rarely seen this far north, and the teeth revealed by his grin were not the meter long spears from before but they encouraged the same uneasiness from her.
He'd somehow made himself a person, and he was gorgeous.
"Surprised?" He was shaking out his shoulders and experimentally making his hands into fists, watching the tendons flex and then disappear.
"You..." she was at a loss.
"Me," he crooned, pleased with himself.
"But- you-"
"Yes, me."
"No-"
"Yes. " he was growing impatient.
Now Nalene felt like she could faint, she couldn't find her breath, and her hand had found it's way to her chest, her heart pounding beneath it. "But- I don't- you can't..."
"No, you don't, but I can. Now will you-"
"No no no! You can't just-" she gestured frantically towards him, feeling so many things at once but too speechless to communicate them.
"Enough!" He caught her flailing hands, his face bizarrely human and bizarrely, blatantly frustrated. "Enough," he repeated, giving her hands a jarring shake. "You're being ridiculous and ungrateful-"
"Ungrateful," Nalene screeched, growing more and more hysterical the longer she saw this too new, too human Smaug. "Why should I be grateful? You can't just- it's not possible- ungrateful!"
"Yes," Smaug's grip was squashing her bones together, but he didn't even seem to notice her attempts at tugging her hands away except to tighten his grip further. "You think it's easy to do this? Anyone can force themselves into a smaller, pathetic body for any flippant reason? You think I want to be like this?" He released her hands with an enraged huff, and his chest heaving as he stepped back.
"I don't understand," she tried, "you're a dragon."
"Of course I am," he sneered, witheringly. "But I can't very well fetch your food for you as one can I?"
Nalene opened her mouth to speak, then paused, the words lost. It was just so hard to focus. His expressions were so... so human now. Before it'd been like conversing with a fire-breathing statue, but now he was bewilderingly familiar, personable.
"You're gaping." He snapped, pulling her from her thoughts with a glare.
"But... how can you...?"
"How articulate." He waved off her question. "You wouldn't understand." Nalene narrowed her eyes, and was considering arguing when he spoke again. "Besides, I don't have time to explain to you, I thought you were hungry?" He arched a brow.
In the excitement of it all Nalene had forgotten, but now that she remembered the ache in her stomach came back full swing, and she realized how tired she was. Their conversation ended after that, Smaug ignoring her in preference for returning to his natural state. Nalene assumed it was faster to travel with wings, but minutes after Smaug left it occurred to Nalene that she had just let Smaug loose on some poor village or town... or something. Not that she could have stopped him, but she was the one who needed food, so wasn't it partially her fault? She didn't know where he was getting her food, but there would be people there. People like those in Dale, like the dwarves from here. Nobody deserved a visit from him.
But even so, she found she didn't regret seeing him go, the allure of finally having a meal was too appealing. A small part of her was horrified- didn't she care that Smaug was out there, possibly terrifying villagers again, but most of her was hungry, and was glad to be free of him for at least a little while.
