A/N: wow, longest chapter yet, hope you enjoy it! (I apologize for any grammar mistakes, if you see any let me know and I'll do my best to fix them)
Chapter Nine:
The silence was stunning, the weight of it freezing Nalene where she stood. She stood motionless as her mind whirled with the possibilities of what the sudden silence may mean.
Smaug? What was he doing? What had happened?
Something akin to hope tainted with anxiety swept through Nalene, urging her limbs into motion. Slowly, as if moving too fast would shatter her hope, she unfroze from her shock. Unfurling from her daze, Nalene twisted her neck over her shoulder, looking towards where Smaug rested. The sight that greeted her was unchanged from the last time she'd glanced his way. Buried beneath his gold, only the top curve of his spine crested through the treasure, and like an iceberg in the ocean it hinted at something massive lurking beneath.
Seconds ticked by as she stared, each one passing tensely and expectantly as she all but willed the visible spine to move, shift, twitch, to give any hint at motion. Four days he had slept- Nalene was ready for him to wake up, she was ready for their routine to return to normal. But then she blinked and abruptly time no longer passed sluggishly, but at the regular pace. She let out a puff of breath.
Maybe he wasn't waking up, she thought, and Nalene unfurled from her twisted position to face Smaug completely. She took a cautious few steps closer, squinting at him and watching for any disturbances in the gold pooled around him. She paused, and in the stillness that followed she tried her hardest to listen, to really listen, and maybe hear him. Holding her own breath, she searched for the faint sound of his, growing increasingly confused. Maybe she had assumed too quickly when she'd noted the absence of his breathing. Maybe her human ears were failing her.
Even after minutes of purely listening, Nalene heard nothing beyond her own breaths and the swish of fabric as she inched across the room towards him. She hesitated feet shy of him when she remembered his furious command to not wake him. If he was already awake, she had nothing to fear by going closer. But if he was still asleep...
Discomforted by the uncertainty of it all Nalene gathered her courage.
"Hello?" She ventured, barely raising her voice above a whisper. "Are you awake?"
Silence answered her.
"Alright then," she mumbled, shoulders slumping in defeat. It made little sense to her, but he must have fallen into an even deeper sleep, one where his breathing steadied and slowed to an inaudible level. Fleetingly, only for a mere moment before she dismissed it, Nalene played with the idea that Smaug had died. For an indiscernible reason, Nalene simply knew this wasn't possible. Smaug was too strong, too stubborn, and too impressed with himself to lethimself die a quiet, anti-climatic, forgettable death in his sleep. He would go out with fire and probably a lot of other people dying alongside of him.
Nalene paused, reconsidering her last thought.
No. Noboby would die alongside Smaug. That would imply a sort of shared camaraderie, even just in death, and that Smaug would never do that. If he were ever to die it would be as he lived, with a flourish of drama and terror, and most importantly: alone. Nalene could imagine it clearly. If Smaug was dying, others would undoubtedly also being in the process of dying, but they would be below him burning.
Then Smaug would fall from the sky and crush the survivors.
A story that would recorded in books and told for generations.
This is how Smaug would die, not peacefully in his gold like a cat bathing in the sun. That is why Nalene didn't even waste her time considering any other reason for Smaug's silence. Nalene didn't have to worry about him dying and leaving her alone in the mountain, but there was a tingling uneasiness crawling up her spine for another reason.
Smaug was only falling into deeper sleep, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could afford to let him. Inevitably she would need him- for food, conversation, for something.
"Don't you dare wake me!" The memory hovered clear as day in her mind; his face twisted in anger, shoulders taut and curling, feet furiously stomping away-
There was no point in thinking about tried shaking the discomfort from her skin, but all it did was cause her necklaces to swing, the fine metal chains clinking together every few seconds until they slowed to a quiet halt.
She needed to occupy herself- she would drive herself insane sitting here and mulling over him. Organize jewelry? No, she was bored of that, the allure of gold had dimmed for the moment, the draw towards sparking gems and plates so smooth and clean she could see her reflection had faded. Nalene had her fill of treasure now. Smaug would return to his treasure, he would never grow tired of it temptation. A dragon trait, an obsession she could never match. He could probably sleep in his gold for decades, wake up, and not feel as though he'd been robbed years of his life. His treasure was his life, she suspected.
Nalene would never be liked that. She couldn't, and regardless, she didn't want to be.
She was sick of gold. She remembered the crowds of Dale with their colorful clothing, ranging from rags to wearable art, the exotic languages that could be hear from the merchants- her father and brothers had been fluent in some, passably understandable in many- the food vendors hawking for customers, the children flying kites overhead, rambunctious and always underfoot as they ran underfoot weaving through the streets, Lara, with her easy blush and constant affection for some discussing some young man or another, her servants always agreeable and steady, her guards, especially old Berund, never quite out of sight, always protecting, making her feel safe...
Father had never let her wander into the poor districts, even with her guards. She'd never wanted to anyway, but she remembered them now and regretted not having seen them, a part of her would trade the rings on her fingers for a day in the streets of Dale- even the filthy parts she'd never bothered with. People, even the poor, the smelly, the mean, the old, the ugly- Nalene wanted other people.
A sigh escaped her. Home. She wanted to go home.
A second sigh, this time almost a growl, and she turned towards him. His fault. It was all his fault, she thought bitterly, glaring at the sleeping form. She wanted him to wake up so she could talk so someone- to him.
She wanted him to wake up so she could reach up to his handsome face and slap him so hard he had to spit blood, that his cheek would burn red in the shape of her hand so that even when he shifted into a dragon there would be a lingering ache under his skin.
Nalene's glare faltered, her anger morphing into a uncertain confusion.
Despite it all, everything bad that had happened, her anger had always simmered low, buried under fears. Strangely- or finally- she wasn't afraid.
Nalene was angry.
Killed her father, her brothers, her friends, her guards, her maids-
Destroyed her home, killed thousands, man and dwarf, captured her, terrified her, abandoned her for a nap while she rotted away from loneliness and boredom, ignored her, mistreated her like nobody else had ever dared. Because of him, she was drinking water from a well that had an unmistakable smell of ashes to it, had her sleeping in piles of metal- still bruising, still uncomfortable, still just horrible in every way-
It was good that he didn't wake up, because if he did Nalene would have no self control.
She'd slap him. He'd get angry. Furious. Then Valar know what would happen to her.
Nalene tore her gaze from Smaug. This was good, she told herself sternly. She was angry, she couldn't handle him at the moment. She'd burst and then he'd explode. Exploding dragons would not help her.
She still wanted to slap him. Maybe in her dreams- her uneasy dreams taking place on a bed of metal- she wouldn't forgive him for making her suffer that- she would dream of slapping him, and maybe when she woke up she would remember and maybe then she'd feel better. More settled. Then it could be simple anger, not this mess of resentment, gratitude, guilt and Valar knows what.
To her dismay, she did not dream of slapping. She dreamt of Smaug but not of slapping, and that was a disappointment. If she couldn't hit him in reality, she should at least get to slap him in her dreams. In fact, Nalene felt entitled to it. Maybe if she pictured it clearly as she fell asleep the sentiment would bleed into her dreamscape. She hoped so. Nalene considered praying for it, but then she was distracted by the humor of it- before she had never prayed, then in the beginning she started praying for her family, for their happiness, wherever they may or may not be, for good, Valar-approved things... now she was contemplating a prayer for the chance to slap Smaug. How things changed.
It was two days later when Nalene first prayed for Smaug to wake up. It was a direct and tactless prayer. Nalene had never been the most devout, never spared the Valar a thought, they'd been too distant, too intangible and unseen- but nw the only thing that wasn't intangible and unseen was Smaug and his treasure. So she sent a few prayers out, doing her best to be respectful as she asked the Valar to please
-turn back time, change fate, let her go home-
wake up Smaug.
Polite and sincere- she did her best to be grateful as she sent her request. She knew not all prayers were meant to be answered, knew that she prayed less because of faith in the Valar and more because of her own desperation to do something, anything, to feel productive, to pass the time.
It was a day later when her prayer was answered. She was resting when the gold beneath her began to shift. Nalene almost fell alongside the gold when whole sheets of treasure began to tumble away. Massive shifts in the treasure only meant one thing- Smaug was moving. Feeling a surge of hope, Nalene whipped around just in time to see Smaug rising up from the gold. Except, unlike the last time he'd emerged, he didn't leave the gold completely. His movements were lethargic and short, and when his upper body slammed down onto the surface of the gold a wave of air blasted Nalene's hair back.
Then it was quiet again. Only interrupted by the familiar sound of Smaug's breathing. She hadn't realized how much she wanted to hear the sound till she did, and it was instantly relieving. Fueled by anticipation, Nalene quickly made her way towards Smaug's head. She would be there when he woke up.
She could see his eyes moving beneath his eyelids, and after a few moments of Nalene eagerly watching this his eyelids snapped open- there was no whimsical fluttering of eyelashes or uncertainty with Smaug. It was a silly thing to analyze, the way his eyes moved, but Nalene couldn't help but notice. The monotonous solitude must have been getting to her.
She stared into his eye, and he stared back. She waited for him to speak. Internally she couldn't stop her mind from racing- had sleep improved his mood? Would he feel more inclined to share what he'd been thinking earlier now that he'd gotten his rest- sometimes she wondered if he just liked to sleep or if he actually grew tired and needed sleep like a normal person… not that he was, or ever would be, normal.
Maybe he slept because he was bored. These past few days Nalene had taken plenty of naps. There was just nothing else to do.
He still hadn't spoken.
The silence of it was too much for her. She hadn't waited days for him to wake up for him to stare at her like this. It was always staring.
Impatient for conversation, she spoke for him. Her voice came out a little squeaky from disuse, but she pretended not to notice.
"Hello."
The eye blinked.
Typical, Nalane thought, pursing her lips. Only ever talkative when it suited him. She would try again.
"It's been days."
Even worse. She hadn't meant for it to happen, but it came out sounding like a scolding. Not ready to deal with one of his moods, she made another attempt, this time keeping the intoned accusations at bay. "Do you feel better now?"
Eyes were meant to be the window to the soul, but Nalene had learned this sentiment applied only to small pairs of human eyes. The giant golden eye drilling into her form was neither small nor human, and if it was a window it was a window that'd been boarded up. Whether or not he deemed her question worthy of an answer was a mystery, but based on the way he stared blankly, Nalene felt it safe to assume she had not asked the right question.
"You weren't in a very good mood before…" she tried, fishing for a conversation he'd partake in. Smaug didn't even blink this time, so Nalene took this as more disinterest. In fact, he may have looked even more bored. Nalene steeled her nerves. She had prayed for this, dammit, and she wanted to talk, so she would talk, and dammit, so would he. "You were actually in a horrible mood, if you can remember."
Her eyes widened and flickered away from his. Oh, he wouldn't like it at all, but if anything was going to evoke an emotion from him, it would be this. There was a risk, she admitted to herself, but when it came to dragons there always was one.
She looked back to him, fighting her lips from twitching into a smile- she never had mastered the art of hiding her emotions, and this just might be fun. "I know you're very old by now," Nalene confided in him, "so I understand if you can't remember. It was a few days ago, and I'm sure sleep would only further muddle your mind-"
His eye definitely narrowed. It was hard to miss when the eye was a few feet in diameter.
"-my grandmother grew quite senile in her old age, and she was nowhere near as old as you. Her hearing faded, she rarely ate, she would talk about the strangest things, hardly proper topics, and always jumping between them as they flashed through her mind, and," she paused, partly for suspense, and partly to study the annoyance emitting off Smaug in waves. It looked like it might be working,"...and she took even more naps than you."
He blinked, and she heard rather than saw him huff, the nostrils far at the end of his snout flexing. Then the scales around his mouth began twitching, and Nalene knew.
Success.
She was relishing her victory, silently applauding her wit, when suddenly her thoughts were drowned out by a loud, crunching growl. It was unlike any other noise she'd heard from Smaug. It wasn't a laugh, snort, scoff. It wasn't even like the soft warning growls she'd heard from him before. Then it stopped, and just as Nalene went to ask him, he gave a loud sniff, and growled a second time.
His head heaved up off the ground, and Nalene had to crane her neck to follow the motion as he readjusted himself. That's when she saw it just for a moment as Smaug's neck peeled off the mounds of gold and into the air; a small bare patch on the underside of his breast. It was far darker than the rest of his reddish scales, almost black, but before she could get a better look, it was gone, and Smaug was peering down at her.
"What is that?" He demanded.
If Nalene had wanted a reaction this was definitely it. He was displeased. If only Nalene knew what he was talking about. That would make this interaction a little more enjoyable.
"What is what?"
He moved closer, peering down at her with one eye again.
"That," he repeated unhelpfully as he inspected her. Then he sniffed again, regarding her suspiciously. "What have you been doing?"
"Nothing," she defended. Then she crossed her arms.
Smaug's eyes snapped to her arms. For one heavy second Smaug eyed her arm, silently. Then, with a speed Nalene couldn't comprehend, he was suddenly human and grabbing her forearm.
"What-" she squeaked, feeling baffled as Smaug shoved her sleeves up to her elbows and began to stare at her skin with a new intensity. Smaug ignored her outburst and Nalene limply let him pull her hands to his face and study them.
Oh. It was only a hunch, but Nalene relaxed. This was about her cuts. Warily she followed Smaug's movement, paying special attention to the minute twitches of tension in his facial muscles. After he picked at her bandages his face hardened, and he dropped her hand. As her hand left his whatever little reactions he'd allowed to show on his face vanished, leaving an unreadable expression behind.
He met her gaze, and Nalene pulled her arms back towards her chest, crossing them to protect herself from his stare. Why couldn't he ever do things normally? If he had something to say about her hands he should just say it. Then, as if he'd read her thoughts, his eyes flickered to her hands, he did it so quickly she nearly missed it, but she didn't. When his gaze returned to her eyes, she stared back. He was studying her.
"I am old."
Nalene blinked. That isn't what she'd expected.
"Very old." He added, and the way he looked at her was almost expectant. His gaze was sharp, drilling into her eyes like he was waiting for her to react so he could study her some more. "Very old," he repeated. "Older than most elves, and without a doubt older than any human and their pitiful lifespan."
Nalene wondered if he was intentionally insulting her. He said lots of offensive things, but she'd learned that half the time it was him being blunt, not purposely mean. But that was only half the time.
"But just because I am old," he continued, "does not mean I am senile."
Understanding washed over her. So she had succeeded in getting under his skin- scales- apparently.
"My memory is perfect."
Now that she knew what this was about, she could clearly hear his voice. It wasn't anger she was hearing. It was indignation. She almost smiled, but dared not smile at him when she'd already offended him. A smile would further threaten his sensitive ego.
"I remember everything- I've told you this."
She couldn't help herself. "I'm sorry," she said, unable to hide the soft amusement in her voice, "I must have forgotten."
The freely offered apology was obviously unexpected, and a long silence settled between them.
"You've grown bolder," he suddenly said, and there was a new curiosity in his voice. He relaxed and his gaze switched from suspicion to speculation.
His remark had surprised Nalene, and the teasing smile faded from her face. The realization hit her hard, and suddenly she was trying to blink through her stunned thoughts. He was right, she was bolder. She'd just intentionally provoked a dragon. What had she been thinking. She was just desperate for someone to talk to, a part of her defended, but the rest of her was still reeling. When had she decided it was okay to provoke a dragon? Clearly the mountain was getting to her, messing with her mind.
"...have I..." She said it faintly and only because he seemed to want an answer, but she did not meeting his eye. She wasn't ready to face whatever he was thinking.
As she was studying the hairs on her arms and not Smaug, she did not know what thoughts went through his mind as the seconds ticked by as he waited to respond.
"I never spent much time around humans," he told her after a moment.
When he didn't add anything else, she lifted her head to look at him, confused. She felt an explanation was incoming, but the the longer she held his gaze and he remained silent, the clearer it became that he wasn't going to provide one. Maybe he simply didn't want to, or maybe he didn't understand she wanted one. At his explanation Nalene wanted to think that he must not understand the intricacies of non-verbal communication, but based on what he'd already done, the idea would be ridiculous. Maybe Smaug hadn't spent time among humans, but that he was still far from unobservant.
So… he was choosing not to explain his thoughts to her.
Nalene shrugged, and with a bravado she didn't feel said, "I never spent much time around dragons."
He thought this was funny. She knew because he actually smiled. It was nice.
It was also suspicious.
She regarded him from head to toe, trying to find some sort of clue, or something to help her understand. He was as big as she remembered, and no human was actually that tall. Her gaze focused in on his shoulders. The proportions were too seamless to be a mistake, though. He must do it on purpose, she found herself thinking. It had to be a dragon thing.
Nalene was still contemplating this when she felt words forming in her mouth.
"I think I missed you."
