Chapter 12;Wolves:

Hello and welcome! I just want to thank all my lovely readers who have given this story # favs, # follows, and now # reviews! I want to give girl scout cookies to all of you guys! Seriously though, take them, the little green vested monsters came to my house, took my wallet and left me with a ton of cookies and about three extra lbs in my hips.

Anyways, the song for this chapter is a lovely little German folksong titled 'Ich Hab Die Nacht Geträumet' that you can listen to on YouTube. I think I got the lyrics down right, but please let me know if any of you spot language errors!

Also, see if you can spot the Hamlet references. I was feeling the Bard when writing this chapter. There are two.

With wings beating against the sky in a fevered speed, Smaug was propelled along the clouded sky with a gale like ferocity. His eyes were sharp and unhindered by the speeding winds that ripped over his body, gaze steady towards the ground as he searched the forest below in the coming morning light. His hunger guided him and the beginnings of a hunt thrilled his instincts into a heightened sensitivity. He wanted blood and bone, and perhaps, a bit of amusement. Picking up the scent of something promising, Smaug brought his body lower with a dip of his neck, the movement serpentine as his tail lashed out behind him.

Dragons rarely had a need to hunt. They could survive years without a taste of meat, but to do such was vastly uncomfortable unless one was hibernating, in which case it hardly mattered. For Smaug, it was more than a matter of hunger, but of pleasure as well. Though no prey could match him, he was in every way a primal hunter, and every time he gave chase it made his blood sing to tear into another being's flesh. The cut and thrust of battle soothed and exhilarated him in the very same way gold did, though the fresh, defeated screams of a prey was a desired distinction. In his younger years he often made war with everything around him, from other dragons to mortal settlements. The latter was not as challenging, but of course there was no chance of the other, now that he was the last. Warriors want a worthy opponent and to those with pride there is no redress in fighting the pathetic. To be unable to match his talons against his own kin was a wretchedness Smaug would now admit to himself, but if he was to be the last, he was also then deemed the champion, the elite, however alone. He had survived and they had not, falling to the wayside while his instincts preserved and perfected him. And it was by these instincts that Smaug had finally come across what he had sensed before, and now with keen eyes spotted.

With a hungry lick at his jowls, Smaug brought his wings in close for a dive, the sudden action creating a resounding clap in the air. Without the support of his wings, he dropped snout first from the sky, making quick work of the distance between himself and the ground. Nearing a hundred feet, Smaug spread the leathered appendages, slowing his speed to a measured glide. Below him now was a plain that lay many leagues from his mountain, but here abounded a multitude of prey, primarily great elk and bear. Today though there trespassed something quite different, and Smaug found himself intrigued by the wolfing shape of his prey. Wargs were a rarity this far east, and the taste of them was little better than an ogre's, but being larger than horses, they would match Smaug's needs. The pair he had spotted continued to run, they having sensed him as he did them some time ago. Typically the packs they traveled in were far larger, but it was possible these two had been separated from it or were used for riding as some goblins and orcs often tamed them to be. But seeing no rider upon them now, Smaug's curiosity for how the Wargs had come so far into his territory ceased as he made to meet them.

Landing before the pair of them, Smaug's talons ripping the earth with his sudden turn upon them. The wargs halted in their gallop, making to spin themselves around to run opposite him. Bringing his body low to the ground, Smaug gave chase, teeth snapping at their heels. He could easily catch them up now, but the fear that emanated off of them was delightful. His hunger's call for satisfaction won out though, and so Smaug stoked the fire of his belly to boil forth till it reached out to his prey, flames licking at his jaws in exuberance. The fire caught the slower of the creatures, and it fell to the ground, howling and dragging its body over grass and rocks to put itself out. It would be of no use, and all too quickly the warg stopped moving, and Smaug's attention concentrated itself onto the one that still ran from him. Catching up quickly, he merely snatched the beast's side in a sweep of his jaws, teeth sinking into bone. A pained yelp was all that could escape the creature as its limbs struggled pitifully to scratch the scales of Smaug's muzzle. Loosening his grip to only then bite down harder, Smaug heard a satisfying snap, and the creature immediately fell limp in his jaws. Letting the corpse drop to the ground, the dragon set his hunger upon it in full force.

Fur was never appealing to Smaug, it often sticking in between his teeth. But the flesh of his prey was strong and tasteful. Hot blood slid down his throat, coating his insides deliciously. The first warg disappeared all too quickly, and Smaug found himself at the charred remains of the second in little time. Cooked flesh tasted no different to the dragon, but he liked the crunch of it. When he had finished, Smaug felt his gullet filled pleasantly, but his throat now called for drink. Hearing the nearby ripple, he made his way over to a small creek that crossed the plain to enter the nearby forest. Lowering his head, Smaug let the water first run through his open jaws, washing the blood from his teeth to create a trail of red down the rivers' current. Taking in several gulps, he washed down the last remaining taste of his delightful meal. This however, left him with a most unwelcomed aftertaste.

Dianthus, lilac, and hot copper. At its sharp trace, Smaug growled in annoyance, and lowered his head into the creek to try drinking the taste away. It would do him no good, and he cursed the source of this venomous savor. It had been a hope of his to have it washed away by the blood he had just caught, but it still lingered, though not as powerful as before. His forked, black tongue licked the remains that still clung to his washed muzzle, and knew there was nothing for it but to return to his mountain, the taste of his songbird's skin still clinging regardless of his efforts.

She had been on his mind much of late by his curiosity's demand, though now new instances cast strange thoughts into the mix. No human had ever paid him gratitude before, at least with that degree of honesty and he was uncertain how to respond, especially since it had been rather a happy accident he had caught her when she fell from the railing those few days ago. In her eyes, it must have been of a great importance for anyone to want to help her. Given what she had alluded her past to be, it was possibly more hospitality she had ever been given, and he thought her a poor judge of such things if she thought him her savior, even if only for an accidental second. Her body against his scales was also quite strange and he could not recall ever having been touched by anything so gentle before. Being the predator he was, anything still living that ever got the opportunity to be as close as she had struggled, scratched, screamed or bit back. When he had set her down, he almost wished her hands to remain upon him, their delicate sensation enough to penetrate into his scales.

Of course, he had quickly pushed that incident aside, becoming aggravated with her after when she tried to ask his favor to acquire a new dress. To have an affinity in being treated with tenderness, it foretold of a weakness he would not allow. He had been all too content to move past the moment. But when he had chosen to take away the staining scar off of her leg, Smaug had not considered there would be further consequences on his part, namely the annoying lingering of her on his tongue. It had been merely a tending to his possession, as he had told her after she had finally calmed herself down, for he could not stand for imperfection however insignificant. There was another motive though, one that was driven by his curiosity and ultimately satisfied by it, making up for this bothersome aftertaste.

For there were very few who could survive dragon fire, and fewer who could tolerate the powerfully acidic quality of their slaver that was the source of it. She had, and with no sign of irritate or discomfort. There was only one conclusion to be brought from this, and it was a satisfying end to a long and persistent curiosity. It had surprised him slightly, what she had turned out to be, but to have her belong to one of the rarest bloodlines contented his discovery. It excited him to have her as his possession, truly one of a kind. Still, it was strange being that she was ignorant of it and for it to have remained dormant for so long. Perhaps that was what her father wished the last of his lineage to be, ignorant and human, even if she was made miserable by the mortal species. It would be a shame to destroy the last kind of another strange and great species, but it was what he had decided beforehand and would commit to now. Perhaps he would reveal her linage before her end, for full, satisfying closure, or perhaps not.

The true question to be asked though, was why was his songbird still remaining with him in the mountain, and in fact was waiting upon his return to sing to him?

He was unable to answer; or rather he didn't want to. It was a passing thing, something that had lingered longer than anticipated. He had said he would tire of her after he discovered what she was, and still believed it to be true even if it hadn't happened as of yet. The desire to be in control of everything was consistent in his mind and his songbird was another one of those things. She wasn't as submissive and cowering as other humans had been in his presence, which was part of the entertainment. With the way his thoughts were running, he made himself sound as if he would ache without her company and maybe he would. It was ludicrous of course. If he longed for anything from anything, all he had to do was take, and the allurement to do so was growing more arduous to overcome. His pride however demanded a better reason however, and such was already being considered.

There was still entertainment to be had of his songbird, still many curious things to observe. Now that he knew what she was, there were questions to experiment with, still amusement to be had. His curiosity would not die, even with her mystery solved, the reason behind her eyes discovered. Smaug would take whatever remained to be had from her, satisfaction, amusement, her misery. But truly, what was a better reason other than he merely desired to continue to keep her? She was his possession, his to do with what he wished, and if he wished to keep her, there was nothing that would quell it, it being his nature to keep his properties close. His cravings were always to be fulfilled. The songbird just happened to be one the latest. He needed no justification, no one wanted to give up what they had already claimed and put time into polishing. He would keep her, and continue to use her as a source of entertainment, curiosity, and perhaps, much desired company.

Though, if he did ever grow bored of her, he could just devour her, if just to see if her blood tasted as sweet as her skin. Satisfied with his resolution, Smaug spread his wings, and with one graceful thrust took flight.

~:o0o:~

Raelynne walked at her leisure down the long, cavernous path that winded its way through the mountain, mounting stairs and inclines as they came. Her torch did little against the black around her, but thankfully the metal works of the dwarves reflected it back at her and cast the illusion of light around her as she went on her way. She knew she had only a little time left before the dragon would return from his hunt, and she had to be back in the treasure vault before then. She was not escaping, she was not so foolish as to try that again without ridding herself of the beast first, but she was supposed to wait for him to return so as to sing him and his full belly to sleep. But spending several hours waiting for Smaug to return in the cold bed of coins did not appeal to her, and besides, there was something on her mind that needed to be quelled.

Raelynne was looking for something in specific, and she only had an inkling as to where it might be. Having started at the library, she followed the most obvious path, and went on from there. She hoped it would not be much longer until she happened upon what she searched for, but then at the same time she wished she would never find it. The latter wish of hers proved to be fruitless, as when she rounded a sharp corner, she found it.

In the dim light of her torch strange shadows cast themselves upon the dwarven corpse she had happened on in the library. Alfird had not taken it very far when Smaug ordered him to throw it away somewhere it would not bother with its stench. Since then, Raelynne could not get it off her mind. Taking a few steps closer, she kneeled beside it, bringing the torch closer for further inspection. None of her previous shock or disgust from before came to bother her now, she keeping herself practical as she summed up the body. Now she noticed the greying hairs of the extravagant beard, telling her at least the dwarf lived to a good age before he died. And by his multicolored and thickly woven robes, it was a rich life as well. Setting the torch down beside her, Raelynne felt her head bow in reverence. Though it was not guilt or respect for the dead that had brought her seeking the body.

"Apologizes, but seeing as how you no longer need this…"

With fast fingers, Raelynne's hand reached for the dwarf's belt, swiftly removing something from it. Bringing it closer to her face, she studied the item's condition. With a quick flick, she released the long knife from is sheath, it giving out a satisfying ring when free. It was shorter than her forearm but just as thick, meant for attack rather than defense. Its leather bound handle fit perfectly in her hand, and its simple silver blade shown keenly despite the years of being unused. The dwarves really did know how to craft their metals, their treasures and weapons lasting far longer than they. With a few experimental swipes, Raelynne grew accustomed to the heavier weight. She would have preferred not to take from a corpse, but seeing as how Alfrid had thrown her own knife away, Raelynne needed a replacement. She could never take one of the decorated blades in Smaug's treasure, as he would notice even if a coin was missing, and besides they would not have been practical to use being far too heavy for her. But in her panic before at having met the corpse, she had noticed among the relatively few things she had time to, that the dwarf was armed. And having found him, now so was she.

Sheathing the blade back into its decorated leather case, Raelynne then fitted the whole thing underneath her loosened bodice. She had the opportunity yesterday to go back to the room she had found her change of dress to grab the other items she needed, including several other dresses. The red dress she wore now, while long enough to reach her knees, clung to her loosely enough to comfortably fit the blade underneath it. Hopefully Smaug would not ask her to dance before she could find a place to hide it, otherwise the restriction of her movements might clue him into her new weapon. It would be of no use against him of course, but Raelynne's plan required it none the less.

Before standing herself up, Raelynne cast one last look at the wretched skeleton. Without a word or thought, she reached for something else in her bodice. Placing it on to its lap, she grabbed the torch and started her long journey back to the dragon's horde, leaving the dwarf and the child's comb alone in the dark with one thought.

May you both be in peace.

Her sentimentality had gotten the better of her, yes, but Raelynne felt no shame as she walked on, feeling the need to hurry back. Her concentration settled itself onto her next task, that is, finding a place to hide her new weapon before she had to go back to the horde. For all she knew, it could already be too late, and the dragon had already returned, impatiently waiting for her. She did not wish to ever keep him waiting, especially after what happened the last time she did. Unconsciously, the fingers of her free hand brushed against her covered thigh.

That day when he had taken her scar away, she bathed herself so vigorously afterwards that the skin even now was still red from her efforts to wipe the humiliating memory away. She knew the dragon's purpose for the action, him only wanting to see perfection, and she was all too glad he never had the opportunity to see her other marks and cuts. She found it strange that she was angrier over having the scar taken away than she was with the touch itself, however humiliating it was, for she never asked him to do it and in fact if she could get away with yelling at him she would have screamed. It was a memory that was precious to her, an intimate marking on her body, and he just wiped it away. He already tainted her present and destroyed her future, and now he was taking the evidence of her past. Even if it did end up killing her, she would not allow him to change her in such a away again. To have him in her thoughts and dreams was horrible enough to then have him mark her body as well.

But when he had caught her, and then placed her gently on the ground, Raelynne found herself looking upon that gesture still with gratitude. Not that there was particularly anything kind or truly out of character in the occurrence itself, but its individual parts, when observed, added up strangely to Raelynne that she found herself confused. Did he mean to catch her? Why was he so gentle and almost reassuring in letting her down? What was that strangeness in his flame gold eyes as her hand found themselves memorized by the smoothness of his scales, the soft warmth that pulsed from them-

"There you are." Announced a voice from the darkness ahead of her. Raelynne, though happy to be distracted by her thoughts, found her mood turning sour as she recognized the source. She smirked to hide her grimace.

"How now, a rat."

Alfrid's torch joined Raelynne's in the feeble fight to light the dim hall, and as the shadows retreated, she could tell the dragon's servant was not in a pleasant mood. Not that she ever wished him to be, for he was far fouler when he smiled. Their trysts of late had become far more aggressive and unyielding, and Raelynne took outrageous precautions against them escalating further. She did not need to draw any more negative attention to herself from the dragon than she already had. But of course, there was that part of her that desired nothing more than to not allow Alfrid an inch. And of late that part won out more often than Raelynne would like to admit in the midst of her new, fearless self-control. Perhaps when it came to pests she had not an bit of tolerance.

"The master has returned, and he is not delighted at having to be kept waiting." He told her through a sneer, stopping little more than arms' length away from Raelynne, who found the distance disturbingly small. She made to step aside him.

"Well then, no time to waste."

Contrary to the annoyed urgency in his voice before, Alfrid moved to stand in Raelynne's way, forcing her to step back to avoid collision.

"What were you up to just now?" He asked her in a tone she did not at all appreciate, so she gave him an answer she knew that would produce a similar feeling in him.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Alfrid persisted, taking a step closer, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. He always was suspicious of her, especially after the dragon had allowed her more freedom. Though, they both knew that was only allowed due to the fact that it was absolutely hopeless for Raelynne to escape from the mountain's maze. Without the dragon to guide her, she was completely lost, or so, that's what she wanted the beast to think. That being the case she feigned innocence, however tactlessly she applied it as she continued to smirk.

"I was walking. The stale air here is rather invigorating."

"Walking where?"

"About. There about and here abouts, but about none the less."

"You would be smart to answer me straight, girl. I am in no mood to put up with your foolishness."

This time Alfrid spoke with an audible growl of annoyance at Raelynne, and she knew that it would be best to pacific the little man so as not to in turn irritate the dragon by being late. But her patience with Alfrid had run its course long ago, and having had all her consideration depleted by her secret outing, she had none of that to spare either.

"And I am in no mood for your foulness." Raelynne answered him promptly, making again to move past him with slow deliberate steps "I don't have to answer you. In fact, I don't even have to listen to you. You have no power over me."

Raelynne had succeeded in making past Alfrid, and was about to march her way to the dragon, who by this time was most likely irritated by having to wait even this long. But of course the insipid man had to open his mouth to snarl at her back.

"I've wounded you once girl, do not make me take aim again. I don't think your head could take being anymore thick."

"And risk upsetting the dragon? Really Alfrid, do you think that is wise?" Raelynne stopped to speak, head turned back over her shoulder. She so enjoyed the fallen look of pride in Alfrid's face, and it inspired her to continue.

"Who do you really think is of more worth to the dragon? Truly? You warned me that to disobey the dragon was to resign myself to death. Yet I have disobeyed him and lived. If you did the same rat, do you think you would survive the experience?"

To her utmost pleasure, Alfrid's jaw went a little slack, though she hardly liked seeing his crooked teeth. What she said was nothing more than truth though, and it made Raelynne all the more pleased to have stated it. Things needed to change around here. They both knew the dragon was to be utterly obeyed, but the hierarchy between them had shifted almost in the same moment Raelynne had been brought into the mountain. She was the favored pet, the pretty songbird. There would be no harming her, even the dragon refrained greatly from doing so in comparison to how freely and liberally he expressed dissatisfaction to Alfrid. Of the two she had been the one to try to escape and survive that supposedly fatal mistake. It was not because the dragon was merciful, kind, or benevolent. No, it was because she was his prized possession, whereas Alfrid was little more than a glorified pair of hands. It was time that favoritism was made obvious and used to her advantage. Besides, she had dealt with her share of abuses before, and to take it from the dragon was one exception, but from any man, she had not stood for such insults since she gained her independence from the family that never fought for her.

However, when Alfrid reached and grabbed Raelynne's arm as she once more tried to make her way to the dragon, all her enjoyment was replaced with anger. With a harsh yank Alfrid made her stumble closer to him, meeting her discolored eyes with his beady ones.

"I'll say this once, and you will hear it. Never call me that again. I am sick of your insults, you little wretch! It's time you were made to listen to your betters!" He seethed to Raelynne in a low whisper. The jostling movement made her concerned for fear of the new weapon she was hiding might be exposed, but with the rate of this conversation, she just may be needing it sooner than she thought. But rather than test the blade's edge, Raelynne tried to, unsuccessfully, convince Alfrid to her let go.

"Don't touch me! I don't answer to you or your ineptitudes, rat. Now, if you don't mind, I–"

With another powerful tug, Alfrid had managed to press Raelynne to the nearby stone wall, their torches dropped in the movement but burning still on the ground. Pressing his forearm to her neck, he had her uncomfortably pinned, and a worrisome moment came to Raelynne as she found herself struggling for air as he pressed himself close.

"Maybe your ears don't work so well." Alfrid taunted, his face close to hers as his free hand gripped her chin. The contact disgusted Raelynne, and she could feel herself shuddering in rage, and knew there would be no escape from this situation without at least one of them getting a little bloodied. If that was to be the case, then she might as well take advantage of the opportunity presented to her, though it would make her even more late to meet the dragon. Well, she'd make up an excuse afterwards.

"Perhaps. Unfortunately my nose works just fine." Was her smiling, slightly breathless reply, and as Alfrid's face twisted itself in anger, Raelynne again thought about her new weapon. But she had no time for consideration as a hand raised itself in the dim light to strike at her.

"Bitch! You'll–"

Instantly, Raelynne's knee forced itself up into Alfrid's gut, and the rest of his sentence was replaced by a pained gasp for breath as she took his air. Raelynne had been in many scraps during her short life, but in all of them she either won or survived well enough to repay in kind what damage was received by her. This being the case of the latter, Raelynne felt the pressing need not to only pay back what Alfrid had done to her, but beyond, so that a lesson might be learned as well to never touch her again. And so she did not hold herself back when she sent a closed fist blow to Alfrid's bent and gasping face, hearing a satisfying 'crack!' at the contact.

"Words, words, words. That all you have Alfrid." She told him, still smiling as she watched him reel back in pain, grasping his nose as blood began to seep through his fingers. With any luck, it was broken. He looked at his hands to her smile and then back again before he found it in him to react. Face twisting in ugly rage, Alfrid brought his hands down as he prepared to lunge himself at Raelynne. And certainly, if he ever got her pinned again, he would win, being far heavier than her. But she was far too fast, and just as Alfrid found himself clutching at air, she was already behind him, clasping her hands together to bring them down on the back of his head.

Caught off balance Alfrid fell to his knees and unmercifully she aimed for his neck with her next blow. When he was successfully gasping as she once was, colliding against the stone floor in defeat, Raelynne's smile grew in her spite as she kicked him for good measure.

"I however have much more, and a dragon's favoritism besides." She said between excited, breathless pants as she watched Alfrid unsuccessfully trying to sit himself up, beady eyes glaring daggers up at hers, "Next time it would do you well to remember it is you who is at my mercy where our master is concered."

~:o0o:~

Waiting in the cold dark of his vault, Smaug was at his ease buried underneath the heavy weight of his gold. It blanketed him, cooling his scales and soothing his muscles after his satisfying hunt. His head was the only part of him exposed, his eyes trained on the small entrance way nearby. His patience was nearing an end when he finally heard the hurried, light steps of his songbird, and soon she was within the dimly lit vault, out of breath and troubled.

"You were supposed to wait here." He lightly growled in annoyance, having by now come to expect total obedience in his pet. It was her custom to argue with him once in a while over a certain point, but never in the end did she not submit regardless of her resilient spirit. To have her deliberately disobey like this was out of what had recently become the norm, and once more Smaug considered if keeping her was worth all of the trifles.

"Apologies master. I had forgotten my instrument, I went to retrieve it and I thought I would make it back in time." Was her offered excuse, and she lifted a strange, elongated lyre as proof to her story. Her excuse seemed plausible enough, though hardly justified keeping him waiting. About to command her to start without any more delay, he noted that she still was panting, and a light sheen of sweat glistened against her brow.

"You are breathless."

"I fell."

Suspicious, Smaug took in a breath, and tasted something foul about his songbird.

"You stink of my servant."

"I fell on Alfrid."

"You still have his blood on you."

With a quizzical brow, the young woman looked down to where Smaug's sharp eyes was glancing, and saw on her knuckles the red stains that were proof of her lie. Quickly, she cleaned her hand on the back of her dress.

"It really was a terrible fall." She pressed after a minute of silence. She kept herself calm, but Smaug could hear her heart beating ferociously in time, hinting at her nervousness.

"No doubt…for Alfrid." He amusedly replied. It was not in his nature to allow any harm to come to his possessions, and by the slight bruising on his songbird's hands she had caused a lot not only to his servant but to herself as well. The violence was justified on her part it seems, Smaug knowing of the twos' great dislike for one another. Still, this behavior was not to be condoned, especially since it has brought damage to his songbird. Seeing any marks on her, however great and small, was abhorrence to him, especially after having discovered her scar. The dark need to punish the cause of the imperfections on his songbird was strong, and the future of Alfrid looked bleak. But, having the inclination his servant was suffering far more than she, Smaug decided voicing his displeasure to the both, particularly to Alfrid, could wait.

"If the mood is still in you, oh terrible Smaug, may I sing for you?" His songbird asked, no doubt hoping to get passed the fault of her temper. He said nothing, and she took it as his approval as she stepped closer to sit herself down near his bed of coins. She took a moment to make herself comfortable, her legs bent underneath and her dress straightened, before she took up the instrument in her lap, and began.

The amusement he felt for her show of spirit continued as he glanced over her appearance once more, to search for further damage. Other than the light discolorations on her knuckles and neck, she appeared undamaged. Even better, she looked quite content and vivacious. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone with a kind of smug victory that she tried to dim in his attention to her as she played, though there was no helping her visible pride in having come out the winner of whatever confrontation she and his servant had. Its effect was quite palpable, and it was almost endearing how such a brutish act brought out her gentle beauty. He watched her hands playing, remembering them for how soft they felt on his scales, and would no sooner think a lamb capable of delivering blows than she. Perhaps not a lamb, but then maybe perhaps a wolf in sheep's clothes would. He had noted before how distrustful and hostile she acted around the man, and wondered if that was her way with all humans, being a solitary creature. Either way, to see her aggressive spirit at its fullest was somewhat pleasing to him, even if the result of it may require him attaining a new servant. Again deciding to let that particular matter rest for the moment, Smaug contented himself to listen to his songbird sing to him for the first time in a while.

Her words were bizarre, being of another language he was unfamiliar with, but flowed easily in her melody as her fingers plucked the strings of her instrument. The warm, soothing vibrations that she played were soft, yet it carried its weight across the vault perfectly in echo. Her song embraced the gentle pulse of her ethereal voice, and he closely watched her pinked lips parting and smiling, listening for the quick, sharp intake of breaths she needed to continue her song. The song was beautiful, but Smaug found himself almost wishing for a different shape for her lips to take, different sound to be produced. Any other sound. A gasp, a sigh, a deep moan as her head tosses itself back in a craving need…

"Die Blüten tät ich sammeln
in einem goldnen Krug,
der fiel mir aus den Händen,
daß er in Stücke schlug."

"Draus sah ich Perlen rinnen
und Tröpflein rosenrot:
Was mag der Traum bedeuten?
Ach Liebster, bist du tot?"

…

"That language, it is not familiar to me." Smaug commented once she had ended her song, before the silence could return.

"It's Guatisk. It was the language of my homeland before Westron became common." His songbird explained, ready to begin a new song when Smaug continued.

"What does it mean?"

"The song?" She asked with some incredulity, not believing the dragon was interested in such, "A young woman crying out for her lover after having a terrible dream, or so I believe."

At this Smaug let out a snort of derision.

"You did not seem the kind to romanticize."

"I am not. My mother was. It was she who taught me the song, as well as her native tongue." The young woman tartly replied, perhaps taking what he said as an insult to her character or in defense of her mother. Smaug paid no attention to her upset but shrewdly to the fallacy of her words.

"You said you possessed no family. Yet you spoke of a sister not long ago and now a mother."

"I…I-I, well, I haven't seen them in some time. Seven years." She stuttered at his catching her in yet again another lie. Smaug though was far too interested in this new information to find insult in it, though it caused him to become terse in his next deduction.

"A dispute."

The red tendrils down the songbird's back shook as she nodded. She did not look to be enjoying this line of conversation, as often she did whenever they discussed her past. Smaug would ask for full discloser soon enough from her, though he had to wonder whatever could cause shame in her, being as she was. Such a feeling was foreign to those like him, and in time he would make her see that she would have no need for such petty insecurities, as she was one of his possessions, and thus faultless. That he had so far said this to her twice and she had yet to accept it was quite annoying to the dragon, but being that she was raised by those who were flawed beasts, he expected her old habits would take time to die out, and time was as abundant to them as gold here.

"You could call it that master. My mother's husband and I never got along well, and I eventually felt the pressing need to stretch my wings." The dragon's brow rose at this information momentarily before closing his eyes to prepare for the wave of sleep he felt oncoming after his meal and song.

"She remarried after being widowed by your father?"

"No. She was never married to my father. I was born out of wedlock. She mourned for some time after he died, but then my mother married a merchant man and had my sister."

"I see, you were not the favored child." Again deduced Smaug, and he peeked an eye open to judge her reaction. The young woman looked like she was going to protest, her mouth opening to reply, when she found no words to use. It seemed she had nothing to defend herself with, and so she remained silent. That appeared to be the end of the conversation, at least on her part, as she instead walked over the small hills of coins separating them to then sit closer to where Smaug laid his head. Smaug was satisfied with the conclusion and new information he had gained and so he closed his eye again, content for the moment as she began playing once more.

Soon however, a smirk trailed across his lips at a mischievous thought in relation to what she had just shared with him.

"Have you ever heard of a changeling my songbird?" He did not see her reaction but it was clear by the way her playing slowed that the word was new to her. "They are strange, fae-like children carelessly left behind to be raised by humans. They make for excellent substitutes, though the child is often a handful for the mortals, as they do not understand the ways of such a being, abandoned by its own kind."

"My father did not abandon me, he died." She answered him bitterly, catching the connection of his euphemism of what she presumed was a tease from him. However she corrected herself by then laughing, obviously not wanting to offend him.

"But you are right; I was a most troublesome child. Practically a monster, always starting fights and finishing them."

"Of that I have no doubt."

Again she laughed, though this time Smaug could hear genuine humor in it. It was rare for her to laugh, forced or otherwise, and the sound was pleasing to the dragon's waning consciousness as sleep prepared to take him. On the sweet brink, he heard his songbird speak again.

"Was that a clue to your riddle then? Is the answer a changeling?"

His smirk widened sleepily.

"Not quite."

"Damn, I thought I had it that time." She muttered as she then continued to play, making her notes softer for him despite her obvious frustration for being wrong yet again.

Smaug chuckled, almost tempted to tell her the answer. Poor thing, she was quite set on guessing the riddle, but she would never be able to. It was beyond her comprehension, thought really it was very simple. The answer, after all, was just a name. Hers. But before the temptation to spoil the riddle took to his tongue, Smaug had fallen into a light sleep, carols of strings entering the viaducts of his dreams.

I really liked writing the first part of this chapter. Just a normal morning with our dear blood thirsty dragon. And what about all this changeling business? Is that what Raelynne is? Or is Smaug just messing with her, or am I messing with all you guys? Well, we'll just all have to wait for the answers to that.

And yes, finally, after all this time, Raelynne got to kick Alfrid's ass. It's been like, the number one request I've gotten from you guys, far higher than the demand for hot passionate romance or a happy ending. You guys are so weird (but I love you anways).

Note: I believe Gautisk is a Germanic "unrecorded" middle earth language in which Tolkien called himself Undarhruiménitupp (I have no idea what it means but it sounds cool). If my sources are incorrect, please let me know, cause then wiki's broken!

Note a second time: Raelynne means several things. But collectively it means either 'ewe' or 'graceful one who dwells by the torrent'. Guess which one I picked to make a riddle from.

Well darlings, join me next time as Raelynne gets a taste for flying, makes flower crowns, splashes a dragon, and nearly gets herself killed…again. What is that, like, three times now? Wow, she's hopeless. Anyways, it will be something none of you will want to miss, so be sure to keep an eye out! Please review and I'll see you next time!

See you guys around after Spring break! Whoo-hoo!