They stayed together for years – eight to be exact. Many of those years they spent around the Misty Mountains, for that was Smaug's home. Erytheia would coax him to fly farther, forcing them to sleep somewhere new – and eventually he left his cave for days at a time to fly with her. He discovered how truly freeing it was to live outside his cave, to live where he was not always safe. Eventually he stopped caring she was different, that not many things she did were truly of a dragon's mind – he embraced it, he embraced her. She was his mate and she would remain at his side until the end of their days; or one of them fell, whichever happened first.
They retreated to his cave when spring came, when mating season began. For the entire week they mated, Smaug leaving to get them food, and they curled together resting before they began again. And not once, in those eight mating seasons, did she lay eggs. He did not mind, he was not of the age to want offspring yet – but it was something he found odd.
The answer to all his questions came less than two weeks after they attacked the elves, after the season of mating. She had been consumed with guilt from what she had done, the elf with the golden hair and bright blue eyes haunted her – his fear of her so palpable she would have cried if she were human.
She had not meant to, it had been out of her control. She had been a dragon for far too long and her humanity was demanding itself be known. And what a great surprise Smaug woke to when he saw a young maiden in his cave.
She couldn't turn back, no matter how she tried – she couldn't even remember why she was human again. She had lost her memory of the elves, for it was a dragon's memory, not a human's. She stared at Smaug in fear and sorrow as he looked down at her utterly shocked.
He did not understand. The woman's eyes were mate's, her black hair as dark as her scales. Her flesh was sun kissed and completely bare. She smelled of the sky, and burning wood – she smelled like his mate. And so it had to be, she was his mate. "What are you?" he asked her, his voice a deep baritone that she could now respond to.
"A skin changer," she told him, her voice shaky and light – sweet in its youth.
"A skin changer," he said releasing a dangerous laugh. She backed away from him when he stood, towering over her as he leered down at her. "You are no dragon," he hissed, opening his jaws and roaring.
She flinched, her back pressed against rock as she shook, her eyes squeezed shut as she listened to him moving. When she found the courage to open her eyes once more she was alone. She could hear him screaming as he flew, hear the sound of him letting loose a wall of flame at everything in his path.
He would kill her. That is what he had decided, it was the only thing to do. In her human form she could not leave the cave, she was much too small. And he was counting on her still being a human, for she was still unable to change skins. He could smell the fear on her when he stood over her, glaring down at her, opening his mouth to consumer her.
"Please."
Her small voice stilled him, and he was left immobile when he felt her small arms around his ankle. He could feel her shaking, feel how warm her flesh was. The desire for her death left him when he felt her, when he heard her. He growled, wrapping a clawed hand around her and climbing out of the cave, releasing her when he was on the ground.
She looked up at him wondering what he would do. She knew he had been about to kill her, and it surprised her that he hadn't – perhaps he did care for her.
"Go," he growled, nudging her roughly with his head.
She stood from where she'd fallen looking up at him disbelievingly. He was letting her live so long as it was not with him – that saddened her, she did not want to leave him.
He could see she wanted to stay with him, something he wanted as well – only he knew she couldn't. He stamped his feet and let loose such a roar the earth beneath her feet quivered. "You are not a dragon," he yelled, growling as he looked at her. He left her, seeing she would not go.
She watched as he took flight, as he went back to his cave without her. It was then, now that she was human, that the tears streamed from her eyes. And it was then, when she was at her most human, did she change back into a dragon. She screamed, frustrated angry and sad; because she was alone. And so she fled, leaving Smaug behind.
It was hardly a year later that Gandalf stumbled upon her as a human, realizing what she was from her golden eyes and painted wings on her back. And it was less than two centuries after that he called her to aide a company of dwarves. And they met her with mistrustful eyes, wary of her dark and terrible beauty.
I'm not sure if I said this before but she's actually really young when she's with Smaug - think 16-18. She's just barely a woman. So she's still relatively young during the Hobbit; she's about the same age as Thorin.
But this is it for the prequel. Thank you all very much for reading. Please check out the rest of Erytheia's story in A Dark and Terrible Beauty found under the Lord of the Rings category, if you haven't already.