I apologise for my long absence! Unfortunately, real life issues and other stories got in the way, but I have a nice long chapter for you to sink your teeth into ;) I hope you enjoy it!

Please remember to review!

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Chapter 7 – Stories -

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Not a few days later, Saphira was back to full health: she had regained her weight, and managed to keep up her strength by doing small laps of the treasure room, bounding from the columns to the stone beams and then soaring around the room and twisting and dodging as if it were an assault course. It was the only way to keep her muscles up to their peak efficiency, even if Smaug shook his head from the annoyance it caused him, so she did it all the more.

There was method to this apparent random act, however, for Saphira knew that now she was no longer helpless and less then she could give. She was as strong as she had ever been, and now it was time for her to start planning her escape. Brute force – as much as she loved the idea – was a last resort plan. From all the battle-stories that Smaug had told her, she knew now that he was not to be underestimated; the other night, when they finally had found some common ground through their mutual love of violence, Saphira had learned many things about her opponent. Smaug hit hard and fast, using his overbearing strength, size and force to overwhelm his fellow combatant, Saphira knew that he hadn't told her of half of his battles, and she had only told him a few of hers, she didn't want him to know any more than necessary, and she thought that it was the same for him. So that left her with plan B: play on his weaknesses.

But there was only one problem: Smaug had few to no weaknesses. So Saphira had to use cunning to her advantage. She played to her own vanity that she could perhaps trick Smaug, lead him into giving her the keys to her own shackles. Smaug was paranoid and very careful, she wasn't a fool to believe that it would be that easy... or would it?

What if she could make him trust her? What if she could lead him into a false sense of security, make him believe that she was trustworthy, and then escape when his guard was down... It was almost too easy to think that it could work. If anything, Smaug's own arrogance was his own weakness.

She spent a whole evening thinking through every which way her plan might fail or succeed, she prepared herself for every eventuality and any little thing that could go wrong. She attended her thoughts as if they were very complex battle-strategies. And in some cases, they were, for if this went sour, she could potentially end up in a fight – which wasn't a bad thing in her opinion. But it wasn't until the next morning when her careful planning came into practise.

It was time for her to act in the art of seduction.

And she was dreading it.

Her first test began, when Smaug awoke late in the morning from his slumber, arising from his bed of coins like a snake, rolling his shoulders to work out the stiffness. Saphira was already up, and made sure her posture was straight yet not rigid, her neck gracefully arched and her chest puffed slightly, her head cocked only slightly in order to show the soft exposure of her throat. She was trying to look attentive, not suspicious. As Smaug cast his gaze towards her, likely to check that she hadn't made any attempt to escape during his sleep, their eyes met. Saphira made sure he saw how her eyes wandered up and down the length of him, her gaze guarded yet taking in every inch, scale and spike of him. He seemed curious at her blatant analysis of him, yet he made no move to stop or question her. When she was done, she returned her gaze back to his, holding that stare as if she were thinking something over in her mind, before she gave a snort and turned away from him. Smaug seemed to grumble something under his breath, before slinking away towards the exit of the treasure room in order to fetch her food.

Saphira hid her smile, she hoped that her plan was already working. When Smaug returned with one of the dead giant insects for her, he placed it on the stairs leading to her ledge. Usually, Saphira would wait for him to move off before claiming her food, but this time she rose up to her feet, keeping her head and tail held high as she approached him. Smaug did not move, and Saphira gave him a very soft growl, even as she slunk closer, her eyes never leaving his. She didn't want to appear overly approachable, that would be too suspicious for her to suddenly develop a complete attraction to him. No, she needed to appear as if she were considering the possibility of mating him, make him believe that he was slowly winning her over. She lowered her head, sniffing the carcass, and gave a loud appreciative murmur at the clean and precise bite wound to the back of the neck of the prey, appearing to have simply crushed it's spine without tearing at the flesh. She made it obvious that she was impressed by the clean and skilful kill, a sound producing from her that was something between a growl and a purr as she picked up the kill carefully.

All of these little things, Saphira had to check off to make sure she was doing all the right moves. Her instincts told her that these were the signs of a contented female, though she still managed to hold a small sensation of nerves in the pit of her stomach. The last time she had tried to enact the rules of courtship, had been when she had first wanted to mate with her mentor Glaedr: playing, sounds, touching, scenting, all these things she had done to try and make him see her as a potential mate in order to help rebuild their race. But that had ended very badly for both of them. So she only hoped that it wouldn't be the same case here with Smaug.

As she turned around to walk back up to her platform, she knew she was too close to Smaug, and for extra effect, she nonchalantly brushed her tail against his neck. As she moved forward, her hard scales snaked against the softer underside of his neck, scraping his scales backwards against their pattern to be sure that he felt her touch. She could have sworn that she felt him repress a shiver as he growled soft and low and deep in his throat, the tip of her tail tailing up past his jaw and under his chin before leaving him completely as she walked off without a backward glance.

But Saphira seemed to underestimate how such an act may have an effect on Smaug, as she hadn't made it five steps to reach the top of the stairs when she heard Smaug's booming footsteps following her. She ignored him for now, though her heart was hammering with apprehension of what would happen. She felt no fear, and she refused to fear Smaug and give him the satisfaction, but she couldn't help but wonder at what he would do. She stood there waiting for him as he approached, turning her head and looking at him icily. He fixed his flame-yellow eyes upon her, teeth bared in a grin as he let out another low rumble that made it very velar that he wanted her. Saphira dismissed him, turning her head away and ignoring him.

She heard a real growl that time, one that was menacing and threatening, though she still ignored him. Smaug's greatest pet-hate was to be ignored, and she took full advantage of this, though she kept slithering her tail along the floor in a clear show of excitement. But as soon as Smaug stepped onto the platform, she spun around and bared her teeth as she hissed at him loudly, unfurling her wings as she rolled her shoulders in a clear sign of aggression. Smaug roared at her, his frustration and anger very evident in his blazing eyes. She did not back down, stalking closer as she scrapped her talons along the stone floor to draw attention to her wide stance. She kept coming forward, snarling and baring her teeth, eyes narrowing, pupils thinning to blade edges. Smaug growled back at her, but made no move to attack, yet as she came closer he took a step back to give them both room should one decide to lunge for the other. As soon as he stepped off of the platform, Saphira stopped growling, looking completely calm as she turned away from him again. She heard Smaug grunt in confusion, sniffing at the air suspiciously as he made a rumbling noise at her. She continued to ignore him.

Smaug snarled in her direction, before leaping away in a blur of angry red scales, unfurling his wings so that he could glide away and settled down onto his gold some few hundred yards away from her. As he landed, he turned just enough to catch her watching him, sending her a scorned and angry hiss in her direction.

Saphira fought her smirk, and hoped that the rest of her plan would go as smoothly.

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Smaug simply could not wrap his head around the bizarre mystery that was this female! He had half a mind to kill her, for she was quickly proving to be too much trouble for her worth, the slow process of winning her over was beginning to wear on his patience. But then, just as he was getting around to making a decision that morning, she had met his eyes and he couldn't help but feel his interest arise when she gave him such a look... as if she were assessing him like one would when judging the worth of gold. This had caused him to pause in his calculations, an unknown variable affecting the outcome that he had not allowed into the equation. Could the turning point not be far ahead?

She had been giving him odd looks and noises that sang to his own instincts, for he knew that this was a sign of a female that was close at hand to accepting his courtship, and his excitement would win him over. Yet the reason it was odd, was for the fact that before now she had been so hostile to him, or had completely ignored him or would blatantly try to annoy him; the only time they had been civil had been that short conversation on a few previous battles. Yet did he dare hope that his hard work was finally paying off? But then she would completely spin his head in confusion when she would growl and make him back up as if she were rejecting him again. He couldn't understand it! Was she soft in the head? Why keep changing her mind back and forth and send him odd signals?

And then, when she had touched him – rather suggestively he might add – he had been so overpowered by his own desire, he had all but charged up the stairs to her side, only for her to banish him from her nesting area once again, her anger was enough to confuse him and send him back a step. As soon as he had been off the platform, she had calmed as if nothing had happened.

To say Smaug was utterly confused was an understatement. He'd been so angry at her manipulation of him, he had almost lunged for her, if he couldn't have one stress relief then he would certainly go for violence to even his frustrations. He'd just restrained himself enough to storm away from her, hissing when he caught her watching him. It was then that he realised how he had been so out of control of himself, and that only made his own paranoia and temper flare to almost dangerous levels. Smaug hated to be out of control of any situation, and I wasn't until he manages to get some semblance of control of his own hormones that he realised just how out of control of this situation he had become. The fact that just the smallest things could make him want the female so badly, made him realise how long it had been since he had had a physical encounter with the opposite sex of his species. But what made him angry was the fact that he could be controlled like this because of his base desires... and also that the female seemed to be taking advantage of that.

It was then, that he realised what she was doing. He had to commend her with sly amusement on her creative little game. But she seemed to forget, that it was a game that could be played both ways. And if he wandered if this might be the most fun he had had in years!

He pretended to still be in a sour mood for most of the afternoon, though that evening, he made a show of stretching himself out, as if his joints needed to click. He made sure to twist and slither his long tail, sweeping it in powerful strokes across his mounds of treasure. He stretched out his back legs and rolled his shoulders in order to show off the powerful muscles in his physique. He arched his neck and stretched his front legs on his wing hinges, claws digging into the gold beneath him as if it were sand, as he stretched himself to his full and impressive height, puffing out his chest as the spikes on his head stood up in a brilliant display. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Saphira watching him, and slowly turned his head to meet her eyes, a rumble coming out of his throat. Saphira didn't give any indication that she was surprised at his behaviour, but merely looked him over once again, Smaug discovering that he liked the way she was analysing him, and knew that he would not disappoint her.

He didn't make another move until the next morning, when he awoke early enough that dawn was just breaking the horizon in the outside world, when he ventured down into the dark abyss of tunnels beneath the mountain and retrieved a meal for his female. He chose a creature that was not like the hard giant insects he had been feeding her, this time he chose a succulent worm like creature that would have plenty of meat and juices but was not slimy or disgusting. He brought the creature back up to the treasure chamber, still wriggling and very much alive, though it couldn't harm one such as himself or Saphira. As he entered the chamber, he saw that Saphira was already awake and cleaning her scales again; Smaug had to admit that she was very attentive when tending to her own appearance. He did not take the meal to where she would normally reach for it and eat in seclusion, instead he sat on his haunches on one of the nearer piles of gold, and placed a clawed hand upon the squirming prey, the added weight of his wing membranes serving to restrain it as he relaxed his grip. Saphira watched him cautiously, clearly unsure and suspicious of his actions.

"I thought that perhaps it would be entertaining for you to kill your prey today," he told her, his voice rich and filled with light undertones that snaked out to her through air, using the power of his own voice and charm to draw her in. "Would you like that, my fierce beauty?"

His flattery seemed to work, for Saphira straightened her neck with pride, tail lashing with barely contained excitement as she stood and carefully descended down the steps, until she walked onto the many mounds of treasure. She stalked towards him, body moving fluidly and gracefully, her muscles rippling as she walked, neck arched and tail twitching every now and then. She cast her eyes from the prey, then back to him, and his gaze never faltered as he held her stare.

"A living prey to kill yourself, would be so much sweeter to taste, would it not?" he asked her, a smirk playing across his muzzle, his tone almost a purr to her ears. Saphira looked at the wriggling worm-like animal, and he heard an enthusiastic growl rumble in her chest, barely audible where she was trying to keep a lid on her emotions.

"Yes..." she spoke out after a moment of silence, her voice in his mind almost breathy as her eyes remained locked on her target. "That would be greatly appreciated," He could hear the want in her for the kill, and he found himself excited by the prospect of watching her hunt, and so without another word, he released the creature.

Saphira froze in place and waited motionlessly as the prey seemed to sense that it was free and that there were two other life forms close by, and so slithered across the coins in the opposite direction of the predators. Saphira watched it closely, Smaug seeing how she was listening to its every move, her eyes taking in every muscle twitch as the creature raced away as fast as it could. Once it had reached a certain distance, Saphira leapt into the air, and driving down her wings to shoot herself forward, Smaug was almost buffeted by the powerful wind she created with her massive wings. She leapt forward in the air, tucking her wings against her sides in order to speed faster. But she was at a slight angle to her prey. Smaug watched in silent fascination as the prey suddenly turned at a right angle, and as if she had known this would happen, Saphira landed her four feet against a column and pushed away from it, rebounding straight into the prey's path. She hit it first with her front legs, wings flaring to bring her to a halt so that she wouldn't go over her prey. Her talons punctured the skin of the giant serpent creature, and as it flailed and tried to constrict around one of her legs in self-defence, Saphira stamped on the end of the tail with one of her back legs, and then her jaws descended onto the back of the neck. Her teeth easily sliced through the flesh of the creature, and she quickly squeezed her jaws shut until she heard a loud crack as she crushed its spinal cord with her powerful teeth. She stood there, poised and panting from the excitement of the kill, the thrill of the hunt still strong in her veins, though soon she stood, releasing her dead prey, and began to eat as she ripped at the soft flesh.

Smaug watched in quiet fascination and a dark glee, a thrill entering his blood as he watched with mild pride at the effective and quick way his female killed her prey. It was a show of force whilst also easy and not spending unnecessary energy, a divulge into her more sadistic side in her appeasement to her love of the hunt, yet also a clean and quick kill. Smaug had to admit that he found it rather mesmerising to watch her be so... homicidal. There was something about watching this usually calm and collected and wise-seeming creature of beauty give in to such brutality and enjoy the act of it, it made him want to dissect at her mind and discover all her little secrets in order to find the core within. And yet, even when she eating her meal, she seemed so calm and careful with her prey, still so beautiful, even with blood coating her jaws, that made him want to smile in wonder.

He quickly shook himself of such thoughts, focusing on the rush of blood in his veins as he carefully made his way towards her. Though she was only half his size and he could shove her away if he so wanted her meal, he decided to use stealth in order to creep up beside her almost unnoticed until he was standing before her, head bowed low so as not to seem aggressive. When he drew close, she paused momentarily in order to watch him carefully, before attending to her meal. Smaug hid his smirk as he wondered just how far she would go with this little game if he pushed her the right way.

He leant forward slowly, mouth opening so that his hot breath could wash over her face as he leaned towards the kill. Like any predator, dragons became slightly defensive when sharing meat, and Saphira was no exception, growling at him softly, and Smaug kept his pride in check as he paused slightly in his advance, snorting at her. He then leant forward, with her watching his every move with suspicious eyes; he slowly grasped the tail end of the kill, and worked his teeth until he bit off only a small chunk of meat before eating it slowly. Saphira narrowed her eyes, though seemed to disregard him as she continued her meal; Smaug hated it when she did that, made it appear as if he were insignificant, as if he were anything less than the mighty creature of destruction and perfection that he was.

An idea forming in his mind, Smaug leant forward as Saphira pulled away to swallow back a chunk of meat, and he gently breathed the smallest flames he could onto the kill. It was all too easy for a dragon to unleash the explosive power they contained and render all they wished to ash, though it was much more difficult to only summon a chosen amount. Smaug employed that complexity now in order to cook the meat so that it would have more flavour, and also be much more easily digestible. Saphira watched him in surprise, before nodding her thanks and resuming her meal.

Without warning, Smaug brought his head to the kill, his mouth hovering just a few inches from her head. Saphira growled a warning as she eyes his many sharp teeth, though Smaug ignored her as he continued to hover just above her, before suddenly snapping his mouth shut and pushing the end of his snout against her cheek. This was the moment of truth when he would see just how far she might be willing to go to win the game, though he knew that he would be more then prepared to go the whole way. It was a win-win situation in his case. He breathed in her scent, moving his nose across her cheek up to her horns his breath tickling her wispy hair perched at the back of her head. He then moved his way down to the corner of her jaw, touching the sensitive place just behind the hinge of her maw, until he felt her give an involuntary shudder. He breathed in her scent, taking in the spice of feminine anatomy, as well as her own unique scent that was oddly appealing to him, though he could also sense her emotions of nervousness as well as a hidden excitement. So some secret part of her was enjoying this, eh? Well, wasn't that a little development...

He purred into her ear, his teeth nipping at her soft scales, in what he assumed was a slightly affectionate manner. Her eyes turned wide in surprise and nerves, even as she angled her head so that she might watch him carefully. Smaug pressed the bridge of his snout against the underside of her soft neck just behind the hinge of her jaw, allowing the rumbles and growls he made for her vibrate in his nasal chamber so that she would feel them against her throat. Knowing that she had to play along, he watched as she reciprocated the growls and murmurs, and he felt the vibration in her throat against his face, and couldn't help but grin as he turned in order to look into one of her blue eyes with only inches separating them.

"Saphira..." he purred out her name, enjoying the roll of the word as he spoke it, watching her carefully for her reaction to the way he spoke to her. "Such a beautiful creature you are... a living jewel, yet there lies a tempest in your heart,"

For her part, Saphira huddled beneath his fiery gaze, speechless as she gazed into those eyes, slit-pupil to slit-pupil, his words infecting into her mind, and she didn't quite know what to do. Her earlier plan was gone, for she was sure that Smaug now knew what she had been trying to do, but his words and actions called to her instincts, and a sudden nervousness she had never felt before came and swallowed her up. She had never had the affections of a male trying to court her before, and despite all of her wishes for this eventually and all her bravado, she suddenly found herself unsure. Though some part of her was flattered by the idea, and she had a niggling voice in the back of her mind, whispering to her that perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to just indulge herself...

"In my younger days," Smaug was telling her, a proud note entering his voice, one that she knew was accompanied by some form of boast. "I had many females to quench my thirst for carnal pleasures..." he brought his head closer to hers, drawing out the last syllable of the word until she could feel the hiss against her scales. He then reared back, giving her room to sit up, his muzzle alight with his usual smug smirk. "I was the strongest flyer, the greatest warrior, no male could compare with me! I had the pick of the best females in all the Withered Heath,"

Saphira was rather confused at an odd emotion that stirred in her chest as she listened to Smaug's boasting. It was a stir of anger yet not quite so, a bitter taste in her mouth and a feeling of... she couldn't possibly be feeling jealousy?! She had felt the emotion a few times before, when Eragon had given his affection to others besides herself, but that was when she had been younger and more temperamental, she had not felt jealousy in such a long time... she couldn't feel jealous over Smaug's conquests! She refused to even acknowledge such a thought! Instead, she reasoned with herself that perhaps she was jealous of his mating prowess: that seemed more logical, as she had had none.

"You never stayed with these females?" she asked him, ignoring the slight hint of a bitter tone in her voice. "Did you not have hatchlings with them?"

"They were all capable that if younglings came about, then they would manage by themselves," he told her dismissively.

"So why settle for me?" Saphira found herself asking, for it was a valid question: If Smaug had never had a permanent mate before by his own choice, then why would he do so now?

"Call it 'settling-down', if you will," he then gave her a grin full of sharp teeth. "The fact that you and I may be the last of our species; it would seem prudent to not miss this opportunity. And besides, none of those females could hold my attention span for long... but I find you rather intriguing..."

Saphira tried not do anything that might give away the way her heart suddenly constricted and a flash of panic swept through her. Though she quickly gained control of her emotions, even as Smaug cocked his head to look at her with a scrutinizing gaze.

"What secrets do you hide, I wonder?" he murmured in a soft growl.

Once again, she felt the panic turn into dread as she thought of how she could have been so obvious. She needed to keep Eragon's existence a secret, she didn't want Smaug finding out about him, though she knew that it couldn't be put off forever, as something she would do sooner or later would give her away.

"Perhaps it is a good thing you... procured me when you did," Saphira said, trying to change the subject, though a gleam of mischief entered her eyes as she smiled slyly. "Where I am from, dragons are very rare and only a few of us are left. I was the only living female in the entire continent, and there were only three other dragons at the same time, and all were male. My... Enemy..." She paused only briefly to figure out what she would say to describe Galbatorix. "Wanted to bring back the dragon race, yet under his control. He had wanted to breed me with the dragons he had doing his bidding. I would have been the mate of both those males and mother of my race,"

She watched with a sick satisfaction, as Smaug listened to her words that echoed inside his skull, a scowl descending upon his face, muzzle vibrating with his inaudible growl as his lip twisted to reveal the slight gleam of his teeth. Saphira was almost delighted to see his own jealousy arose, smoke pouring from his nostrils, even as he clenched his jaw in an attempt to gain control of himself, though she could sense the images still persisting in his mind. His spell of growing anger, was only broken when Saphira chuckled, both physically and mentally.

"Worry yourself not, Smaug," she said dismissively as she stood to her feet. "Need I remind you that I am previously unmated?"

"There were opportunities though?" Smaug all but hissed.

"Once..." she admitted, a hint of sorrow in her voice. "My teacher... He was the first other dragon I had met, and I thought it had been a good opportunity to rebuild our race together. I wanted to... but my feelings were not reciprocated." She finished in a somewhat bitter tone, tearing her eyes away from Smaug's suddenly interested gaze, glaring into the shadows of the vast treasure chamber. "I was rejected, and in my anger I attacked. We both suffered wounds, though I still remained unmated. He was stubborn in his opinion that he was my teacher and nothing more,"

She then suddenly heard a noise beside her ear, and yelped as she tried to jump away, but was stopped when she felt a body perilously close to hers. Smaug had made a noise similar to a snake as he breathed in that reptilian way of his, his hot breath rolling across her scales and she could scent the rotten meat from his gullet. His neck was arched down, his face just to the side of hers though his muzzle was pressed against the side of her jaw, so she could not turn her head to face him. He did not touch her, and it was through sitting next to him, that Saphira was reminded of how large he was, almost twice the size of herself, he seemed to be checking her for something, and growled in self-satisfaction before he spoke.

"He turned you away?" he asked, his words hitting something inside Saphira that still felt sore like a fresh wound. As if he could sense the sudden unhappiness that coursed through her, she heard the smirk in Smaug's voice as he next spoke. "A fool he must have been to not have taken what was right there in front of him! You were practically offering yourself, and he pushed you aside, as if you were nothing." with each word, Saphira found it increasingly harder to hold onto actual memories of that day, clouded by the hurt she now felt in her heart with caused her own bitter anger to rise at the memory of her humiliation. "I would never reject you..." Smaug's voice cut through the fog of her mind, whispering around her, his words seeping into her soul until all she could comprehend was that massive voice. "I have given you a home, a place by my side, there would never be such –"

Suddenly, Saphira snapped out of whatever trance had held her, shaking her head from side to side, accidently striking Smaug's head with her own. A panic had filled her being, eyes widening as if she had just awakened from a dream, claustrophobia pressing down upon her, with the large dragon dangerously close and the walls feeling too tight. She spread her wings, beating them for a moment as she scrambled away to give herself some room, buffeting the large Fire-Drake as she passed him. Smaug snarled at her, immediately coming after her with teeth and claws raised, anger and hate burning in his eyes as a fire glowed in his chest. But he stopped when he saw that Saphira was not preparing to attack him, nor trying to escape, instead, she sat away from him, her back to him as she seemed to be dealing with some kind of inner turmoil.

She sat on her haunches, tail curled around her feet, head bowed low and wings tucked tightly against her back. She seemed to be trying to make herself as small as she could, tremors vibrating down her spine in odd intervals as she tried to wrestle herself under control. She felt disgust and horror warring with confusion and longing in her heart. In Smaug's words that had played on her weakness of the fear of rejection, promising to never again banish for that part of her that had seemed natural yet had been forbidden in a time of war; and for a moment... she had wanted it. She had wanted to forget everything and simply stay in simplicity where she would never want for anything and would have the mate she always longed for and eventually hatchlings of her own.

But then reality had struck her, and she broken whatever spell had been placed upon, her mind screaming for Eragon, guilt coursing through her for forgetting him... and then she had felt the pain at not feeling him, his absence striking something in her soul like a thousand rejections that drove a sword painfully into her heart. That was what caused her distress, and she wondered if Eragon was still waiting for her; she knew Eragon, and her mind that had always been one with his, told her that he would always be waiting for her, and he would always love her. They were once one being, a bond beyond description between them. But still a nagging voice of doubt whispered that she had attacked him, and that single second of fear in his eyes was enough to say that he could possibly reject her even if she came back with a way to mend their bond.

She then became aware of Smaug watching her intently and suspiciously, and she looked over at him through the corner of one eye, and wanted to snap something at him, but felt too shaken.

"Forgive me..." was all she could manage to choke out.

She was barely aware of Smaug blinking in surprise, as he watched her with greater intensity, something unknown stirring in his belly as he watched her still distressed before him.

"You are troubled..." he growled out softly, thoughtfully.

"It is an old wound that plays on my heart." She murmured quietly.

A long silence followed. One filled with Saphira trying to bury the grief that threatened to swallow her up. Eragon was so far away from her, and she would give anything to have him with her now, it was almost unbearable to have to bear the burden of this pain alone. Could he possibly be missing her as much as she missed him? The silence didn't seem to help her sorrowful mood, and she wanted anything to distract her from her heart-breaking thoughts. And so, without even thinking through her idea, she quickly turned to look at Smaug with pleading blue eyes.

"You spoke of a place called the Withered Heath, is that where you are from? You have not always lived here?" she asked quickly, though a quaver still held in her voice. She could tell by Smaug's narrowed eyes that he knew she was trying to change the subject, but he merely grunted in exasperation and irritably gave in to what she wanted.

"The Withered Heath is a large valley far to the north, past the grey mountains. It is the last place in Arda where dragon-kind are no longer hunted. It is the place where no other mortals dare enter, a harsh environment where only the strong survive." He told her, his voice oddly soothing to her mind as he dramatically described to her the tale of his life. "I was born there, and even in my hatchling years, there were very few of us. As I grew older, I became the most dominant dragon in the valley, and soon broadened my horizons to the world of mortals beyond the valley. Even when I was immature I had a love for gold..." he smirked to himself as he ran the two fingers on one hand through his bed of precious treasure. "I gathered a name for myself as the greatest Dragon of the age!" he chuckled. "But I was perhaps three hundred years old, I think perhaps more, when I heard of the great wealth the dwarves of Erebor had hidden away in their mountain. I conquered the mountain and took the gold for myself, and I have remained here ever since,"

Saphira thought over everything that he told her, trying to digest all of this information. Certainly Smaug was a male worthy of respect in his own right, and one of great prowess. She could tell by the emotions inside of him that she felt in his mind that he had no love for this place called the Withered Heath, which only led her to believe that it was not a good environment to be raised in, further proof of his words that it was not an environment without violence. But she was surprised to hear of his age, perhaps dragons here had evolved so that they aged differently to those in Alagaësia, for like her, he seemed to have grown constantly throughout his life, but perhaps he'd reached maturity later or perhaps the growing process was slower and more consistent. Saphira would go through a growth spurt every few weeks when she was younger, but she now knew that that would slow to a more gradual pace. She guessed that maybe Smaug had grown a little more every year of his life.

"And what of you?" Smaug's words interrupted her thoughts and theories until she blinked up at him.

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"What is your story to tell? I gather that you are from some unknown land, one that I certainly have never come across. And you speak as if you were raised alone, I wonder how a life such as yours could have possibly lead. Do tell," he smirked, though his eyes were alight with interest.

"I can't," she said quickly, panic sweeping through her again as she realised what she had done in asking her questions hastily without proper thought to what she was doing.

"I think you can." Smaug's voice suddenly turned cold though still calm; his eyes determined. "I told you my story, now please tell me yours."

"I am not in the mood," she said, trying to find some way out of this. She knew that she wouldn't be able to lie, for he would sense it the moment she uttered it.

"I still wish to hear it! ... If I may..." Smaug's voice had risen in anger, though died down to a purr of false politeness.

Saphira swallowed her nerves as she tried to rationalise this out in her mind. What harm could come of this? It was not as if Smaug would know the way to Alagaësia, and she was not ashamed of her life nor anything she had done! She would be who she was with pride! And so, with determination back in her spirit, she turned to face him, to tell him her tale.

"I too have fought many battles." She told him, gaze never breaking his. "The land where I came from, was split apart by civil war. I was born with no mother nor father, nor did I think that any other dragons existed when I first hatched. But Eragon, my rider, was there. I hatched for him and we quickly bonded, though our lives were never the same when –"

She was suddenly interrupted when Smaug snarled in surprise and outrage, and she turned to see that he had risen to his feet, sliding slightly in his flustered state, as he stared at her in wide eyed horror and disgust. He was breathing heavily, a look of alarm passing over his features before he stared at her closely, as if he were looking for some fault in her.

"What is this?!" he hissed, eyes still wide and unblinking, pupils thin as blade edges, nostrils flaring wide in indignation. "What do you mean be 'a rider'?! Explain!" he demanded.

"There is nothing to explain," Saphira said plainly, clearly bewildered by the male's strange behaviour. "I hatched into the world when I sensed the presence of the one I chose to be my rider. I was bound to a human that would be my –"

Once again she was interrupted by Smaug's roar that burst from his throat in an explosion of sound, before he suddenly began to pace back and forth, tail lashing behind him, claws digging into the ground in a clear sign of furious anger.

"Disgusting!" he was muttering to himself, revulsion evident in his voice as he spoke, though each word caused Saphira's hackles to rise in her building anger. "Unnatural! Humiliating! This is an Abomination!" he practically screamed as he whirled around to face her, an expression passing over his face as he looked at her as if she were sick.

That did it. Saphira roared in anger, stamping her front limbs against the ground with such strength that the coins beneath her feet shook from the force of the blow. She spread her wings and lashed her tale, appearing as frightening as she could as her rage bubbled inside her until she thought the fire would explode from her maw uncontrollably. She would not have anyone insulting her nor her bond to Eragon right to her face. She would tear said person apart!

"How dare you?!" she screeched inside of his mind. "There is nothing unnatural about the bond I share with Eragon! We are partners to the other's heart and mind, we are the greatest warriors in all of Alagaësia! We are honoured, respected, all mortals bow at our feet!" she roared again, snorting in Smaug's face defiantly. "I had thought that all dragons knew of the existence of the riders, since the days of the war with the elves, we signed the pact, promising our eggs for the cause, for peace between our races."

"Your breed may have agreed to such an atrocity, but my kin would NEVER surrender to such an agreement!" he was absolutely livid, teeth clenched as he furiously spat the words out at her. "We are of a greater race then mortals could ever hope to be! We do not serve them, and we are not subject to them as their STEEDS! Such a thing never has nor shall it ever exist in Middle-Earth!"

"It is more than that!" Saphira hotly defended.

"Did they take away your sanity as well as your pride when they chained you to a mortal?!" he asked disdainfully.

"I am what I am, and I will not apologise for it!"

"You are a deceptive little creature!" he hissed at her with a mocking laugh. "Had I known that you were infected, I would have killed you, lest you shame our whole race!"

"Try it now... I won't go down so easily this time!" she growled out dangerously, hackles rising as she stood her ground, arching her neck and peeling back her lips to reveal her teeth in a ferocious snarl. Even as Smaug readied himself for battle, Saphira was not afraid, in fact, she was more than excited for the fight. She snorted at Smaug's attempts to intimidate her with a muttered: "Though it matters not now,"

"Oh?" Smaug sneered. "How so?"

"Because I no longer have a rider." She said sharply. Smaug paused for a moment, eyeing her with suspicion. "Dark and Ancient Magic undid our bond, and now we are no longer one. I am now as wild a dragon as you are," she tried to ignore how dejected she sounded even in her own mind.

"Hmm," Smaug snorted as he straightened himself to a more natural position, looking down his nose at her condescendingly. "Then it would appear I do not need to find a cure to your disease,"

"ARGH!" she screeched in outrage. "You are a BEAST! An uncouth rock-lizard with only old scars and lifeless gold to show for his accomplishments!"

"And YOU are little more than a human pet!" he roared, teeth bared as he reared up in fury.

Saphira's mind raced across the space between them, and just like before, her anger was enough to blast apart his defences, even if this time she struggled much more in order to wrestle control of his mind. She struck out at him in every painful way she knew how, even as he fought her every step of the way, she twisted his mind and pulled at his very being, as vicious as she had ever been. A mortal would have been screaming from the torture, even as she tore him apart right from the centre of his very self, Smaug roared and growled, trying to fight her, though it was a losing battle. She had every advantage in his mind, for every wall he raised up, there would be something distracting his focus, even for just a fraction that would allow her to work her way around the obstructions. She was lost in her own anger, she just wanted to kill, to maim, to destroy!

Realising the danger that he was potentially facing, even as he felt the imaginary talons slicing at his very soul and threatening to break him apart, Smaug acted in a blind attempt to save himself. He launched himself at Saphira, though she was ready for the attack, and rolled with him down the slopes of treasure, coins flying around them in golden whirlwind kicked up by their wings. He clawed and bit at her, and she did the same to him, though she found all the sensitive spots which caused him more pain. It was almost eerie to respect her training and fighting ability, even when it was directed at him. He found purchase when he bit down on her shoulder, causing her to howl in pain even as she kicked his stomach to push him off. Smaug backed up a step, quickly rearing onto his hind legs, he moved faster than one would think a creature of his size was capable of doing, and in a flash, he swung his wing so that his hand struck her across the face, sending her reeling back and away from him, tumbling down the next slope of coins.

Smaug stood there heaving and puffing with barely controlled anger. He wanted nothing more than to march down there and continue the fight, though something held him back. Something that was both unsettling but also something he could not ignore. And so, with a derisive snort, he turned away from her and marched away.

------------------------------------

Saphira happily avoided Smaug for the rest of the evening, even if she felt a sense of dread in her stomach, for she knew that since her revelation of her true identity, her life now hung in the balance. Smaug was enraged and horrified by her past life as a consort to humans, and her actions to attack him had not seated her in good stead with him. Though she was now no longer bound to a human, meaning that she was more like Smaug, so now it was up to him to decide her fate. Saphira knew that she would not allow him to kill her: she had not survived this long by allowing another to win any battle against her without a fight. But she could not escape for Smaug had positioned himself to sleep right by the exit of the chamber, as if he had predicted her plan.

She did not sleep easily, preferring to doze and simply lay half-conscious in the case that Smaug tried to murder her whilst she rested. But at some point in the night, Saphira did lapse into dreams, though she quickly realised that they were nightmares.

She dreamed of Eragon, he seemed so real, his boyish features maturing into that of a man, though the innocent twinkle in his eyes was still ever present in him. He was in the Capital, accompanying Arya through the streets and speaking with the people. He looked regal and impressive in his armour that shone brightly in the afternoon sun, though he looked tired, bags under his eyes and a slight crease along his brow. The dream was so vivid, that Saphira thought for a second that she was experiencing a vision, and it made her heart ache to see the once-partner-of-her-heart-and-mind again. She wanted to reach out to him, but found she could not, and the restricting force that held her and made her look was infuriating.

And then something happened, from the shadows of the people around them, came humans dressed in dark armour, but a sash of crimson-red tied around their wrists; Saphira caught sight of the emblem of Galbatorix upon the sash, and her mind screamed to Eragon in a warning. The human's descended upon Eragon and Arya, some twenty or more strong, quickly surrounding them with cries for vengeance in their throats. Eragon and Arya quickly responded, fighting back to back as they drew their swords and fought back against the ambush. Saphira wanted to join them, her heart squeezing with fear as she watched Eragon be shoved by a large shield, driving him back and splitting him apart from Arya as the warrior's descended upon him. With wide-eyed horror, Saphira watched as Eragon fought with magic and mind and sword against his enemies; though it seemed that whenever he struck one down it was as if two more took their place. They all attacked at once and Eragon could not fight them from all sides. Eventually, one blade hit it's mark, slicing Eragon's side and drawing blood. Saphira braced herself for the pain to come down, but when she felt none, she couldn't help the dawning horror and wrongness she felt. Her Eragon was hurting, and she couldn't help him! Another blade struck Eragon's leg, and he was brought to his knees, though he still fought them off, defiant until the end!

But as if he knew the situation he found himself in, he looked desperately up at the skies, fear in his eyes and Saphira knew what he was looking for and struggled with all her might to try and get to him.

'SAPHIRA!' She heard Eragon shout out to the skies with his mind, his voice filled with longing, panic and desperation. It was as if he was begging her to come to him, to help him, to save him.

'Eragon!' Saphira shouted back to him, but her cry fell upon deaf ears.

As the humans descended upon Eragon for the final kill, Saphira fought and struggled all the more, and then desperately looked up to the skies herself, as if trying to will the likeliness of herself into being, anything to help her precious rider! But no shadow came, there was no help, and there was no escape. She was not there to help him, and her precious dear-one was dying... She saw Eragon fall to the ground as the soldiers clustered around him, striking with their swords and spears and maces and axes. Saphira couldn't see his body, but she seemed to feel his life ebbing from the world, and a pool of blood spreading under the feet of the soldiers.

'ERAGON!' Saphira screamed, a cry of rage and utter grief exploding from her, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces like shattered glass, along with her sanity.

As if she had suddenly been released from the chains that held her, Saphira found herself diving into the dream, her rage so great that it was all she could comprehend, her grief driving her to insanity, all she wanted was to avenge her beloved-one and to do anything to stop the grief she felt in her soul. She tore and clawed and flamed and ripped apart the many humans in her path, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake that was only recognisable by the blood and bones and mess of flesh left behind.

But as she crushed the body of a human in her jaws, she let him fall to the ground, a snarl in her throat and her eyes mad with heartbreak and rage and she bore blood-stained teeth –

And froze with horror.

She was no longer standing upon a battlefield, she was in a field of long grass just outside of the Capital City of Urû'baen, and there was no great mass of bodies around her, only one beneath her paws, the torso torn apart by her teeth, the insides and blood strewn across the floor. A face looked up at her with pleading and confused eyes, sorrow written upon his face, though all life had been drained out of him and he now lay dead upon the floor. Saphira stared at the face, and willed it not to be so, her denial was so strong she literally couldn't comprehend anything around her, her mind was blank for one split second, before horror completely overwhelmed her.

Eragon lay dead at her feet, his blood upon her talons and up her jaw, the taste of his death still lingering on her tongue. She felt like she was about to be sick, and if dragons could weep tears, then she most certainly would have done, a river would be flooding from her eyes, even as her heart broke inside of her and she desperately tried to take it all back, to undo what she had done. How could this have happened?! How could she have killed the one closest to her heart?! It went against every bone in her body, every instinct she possessed.

She screamed, rearing her head back to unleash her grief and mortified cries to the heavens, cursing Galbarotix, the bond, the riders, even magic itself, she wished she'd never existed, if only to not feel this pain inside of her! Was she screamed until her voice was hoarse and she could scream no more, she looked down at the little body, and curled around it, weeping though she could not shed tears, wanting to die just to be with her dear-one.

Saphira shot up from her lying position, her breathing coming in harsh pants, her heart beating wildly, even as she felt the wrenching emotion of heartbreak still fresh within her soul. She panicked for a moment as she didn't recognise where she was in utter confusion, before finally, she remembered the dark halls and underground lair that she now inhabited, and the one who kept her there. She sighed as she tried to still her raging emotions, though it was difficult, the dream still fresh in her mind. To think that she could kill Eragon... that he was in danger just by being in her presence, it shook her to the core, and it only cemented her belief that leaving was the right thing to do, to try and find a way to fix what had been undone. But the thought of Eragon in danger... that frightened her just as equally. Eragon could be out there now, facing a battle he couldn't handle on his own, he could need her at that very second, calling out her name, begging for her to be by his side once more, and she would not know of it nor would she hear him, all because of the curse that scarred her so.

She sighed as she laid back down and closed her eyes, trying to dispel the despair she felt consume her heart, when she heard an odd noise. She opened her eyes again and looked about the dark chamber, almost pitch black where no light filtered in from the outside world, meaning that it was still in the throes of night. Saphira craned her ears to try and listen to the noise again, and indeed, she heard it faintly. Fast and erratic breathing, broken only by the occasional soft growl, and then ever once in a while, she thought she heard the very odd sound of a whine. Curious yet cautious, Saphira silently climbed to her feet, and walked to the edge of her platform, peering down onto the floor below. She looked around for the source of the noise, scenting the air to see if it were some unknown creature in the chamber. Oddly, the sound led her attention towards the entrance to the chamber, where she could make out the silhouette of the sleeping Smaug draped in front of the steps that led to the door.

On silent wings, Saphira glided down towards the ground and the sleeping dragon, her toes touching gently upon the bed of coins as she carefully settled her weight down, careful not to make too much noise. She carefully stalked closer to Smaug, eyes watching him carefully for any signs that this was a trap. He lay stretched out on his side, one arm-wing pinned beneath him, the other limp against his side, his eyes were closed and his body was still; he seemed to be in a deep sleep. But it was not a peaceful one, his tail twitched on occasion, as did his back feet and his three fingered hands continuously clenched and unclenched themselves. His breathing was coming in heavy pants, his sides heaving as if he were trying to suck in all the air he could, but also fast as if he were exerting himself to a great degree. His face was contorting and shifting into looks of pain and distress and possibly anger. He was obviously having bad dreams. Saphira didn't understand the bout of concern she suddenly felt for Smaug, she still remembered her outrage at his insults, and he shoulder still felt sore and bruised from where he had bitten her, only a few scratches where a few of his teeth had punctured through her tough scales. But she did know that she would have given anything for someone to awaken her from her horrors before they occurred in her dream, if only to spare her from the horrors of it. And so, cautiously and begrudgingly, she softly spoke his name at the edges of his mind.

He remained unresponsive at first, still fidgeting in his sleep as the nightmares continued. Impatiently, Saphira made a grumbling call in her throat, not loud enough to startle him but hopefully enough to rouse him. Though she was still met with the same result. Surely a dragon as paranoid as he couldn't be that difficult to wake! She thought to herself irritably. She flicked him with her tail, and the only improvement was that he growled and shifted his head away from her. Sighing, Saphira lent forwards, making those soft calls in her throat once again as she bumped the underside of his neck with her muzzle. He became still, and Saphira once again nudged him –

Suddenly Smaug launched himself towards her, head snapping round as he rolled onto his belly, talons clenching on the ground as he snapped his jaws at her face, eyes wide in surprise and clearly startled. He was acting on instinct in defence, and luckily Saphira reared her head back and out of reach just before his teeth could slice at her throat. She hissed softly at him, and the noise seemed to wake Smaug's mind enough to bring him back to the present, as he suddenly blinked, clearing the startled fog that still dazed his mind. He shook his head softly, before focusing his angry and distrustful eyes on her.

"What do you want, female?" he growled out in a low voice, spitting out the last word in clear distaste.

"If that is your show of gratitude then you can keep it," Saphira snapped back at him as she looked down her nose at him disdain.

"And what would I need to be grateful to you for?" he asked sarcastically. "Ruining my rest?"

"Is that what you were doing?" she muttered sarcastically. "Forgive me, I mistook it for a hatchling whining for his mother,"

"Don't you dare mock me!" Smaug snapped his jaws at her again as he snarled at her spitefully.

"Then do not treat me like a fool." She shot back.

"It was nothing." he growled dismissively.

"But –"

"Go back to your pedestal female, I do not want your pity," he interrupted her with a growl of warning. Saphira tried to turn and leave, shaking her head at the infuriating male before her as he rested his head down flat upon the floor, effectively dismissing her. But something made her pause as she glared down at the male out of the corner of her.

"All things suffer at least once in their lives," she told him factually and quietly. "It is the way of life." She paused for a moment, something occurring to her as she debated on whether to speak it, common sense telling her not to, though there was an undeniable desire to say it. So she begrudgingly said: "When there are those that are suffering, there is no shame in offering comfort... and seeking it in return," she added quietly, almost to herself, even if Smaug heard the words in his mind.

She saw him look at her in mild surprise, his gaze travelling up and down her face as if judging the sincerity in her words. She simply held his gaze, leaving it up to him what he wanted to do. She didn't know why she had said the words, but she'd wanted comfort to push away the loneliness that had come over her recently, only made more apparent by her nightmares. If she couldn't have Eragon to help her, then she would find it where she could... no matter how unlikely it may be. But Smaug seemed to reach some form of conclusion, for he made a slight grumpy-grumbling noise in his throat, before shifting his body a little away from her, glancing at the spot on the floor beside him. Saphira was indeed surprised: she had hoped for Smaug to simply talk with her, she had never expected this. She looked from the space on the floor and then back to his face, a little hesitant in case it was a trap. Smaug's brow furrowed into a scowl, and he seemed ready to snap at her and renounce his offer, when Saphira suddenly moved closer and laid herself beside him. She shifted to get comfortable on the stone floor, laying her body straight in line with his, though she made sure that no part of them was touching. For her own comfort and peace of mind as well as Smaug's. They lay there in silence for a few moments, before Saphira felt the need to break it.

"It would appear that we have both been afflicted with nightmares tonight," She said thoughtfully, softly. She waited for a response, and when she got none, she looked over at Smaug, curiosity biting her. "What was it that you –"

"Nothing that concerns you," he snapped.

Saphira growled at his bad manners, shuffling her wings in order to get comfortable, though Smaug ignored her in stony silence. She felt awkward to simply sit there, a need to say something burning inside of her, yet her stubbornness refused. But still that lonely feeling persisted, and she didn't know how else to rid it from her soul; but would Smaug even want to listen to her? The subject may put him back in his murderous mood again like earlier in the day. And Saphira defiantly thought that if so, then so be it.

Yet she wanted comfort, and simply laying here was not going to grant it to her. Perhaps a confession would.

"I was not born to simply be, as you were," she began, her tone soft and almost to herself, though she knew that Smaug was choosing to listen to her intently. "And even if I was, I hatched in a human's presence. He could have killed me or left me in the wild to fend for myself. But he didn't. Eragon kept me alive, he fed me, gave me shelter, he cared for me when there was no mother to protect me, and he still stayed with me even once I could hunt and fend for myself. He has been the only constant thing in my life, protecting me as often as I protect him." she explained quietly, her heart seeming to drop with the memories that surfaced in her mind. "The only reason I exist is for him. He was everything to me: my father, my brother, a friend to my heart, the only one who knew everything I was or ever could be, and I in turn knew him and accepted him. We were meant to be bound for all of eternity."

"And now?" Smaug asked aloud, his tone questioning, though Saphira couldn't tell if there was some hidden and potentially dangerous aspect to his question.

"Now... to suddenly be without him... I am lost. I care for him still, as if he were my own hatchling, my own family, as if he were still a part of me." she answered with nothing but brutal honesty. "Perhaps I should accept that that part of me is dead now... I am alone for the first time in my life, and that in itself... is terrifying." She whispered, slightly ashamed, though more for how she sounded weak when the male looked at her with a silent and unreadable gaze. But she had to admit that she felt better for having gotten the truth off her chest.

There was another long silence that passed between them, though not as awkward on Saphira's part, though she could sense that Smaug was having some internal debate with himself. His thoughts churned in his mind, though Saphira didn't want to know what it was that he thought. She kept her wings held tightly against her sides, thinking of trying to doze off once again, when she heard Smaug sigh in defeat.

"It was a harsh winter in the Withered Heath when I was but almost a year old, still a very young hatchling, still ordered to stay close to the cave by my mother." he told her in a quiet and grumbling voice as if he were reluctantly telling her the story, though he kept his eyes trained on the shadows in front of him, not even glancing at her as he spoke. "My mother was out hunting, food had become scarce during the winter, and so I was enticed when a raven flew by the entrance to our cave. It was trying to find food itself, and I tried to stalk it, believing I could catch it. I followed it down from the cave, onto the ice of a river that had frozen over not too far from my mother's den. It was thinner than I thought, and when I pounced, I fell through."

Saphira felt him shudder slightly, though he tried to hide it with a restless shift of his wings. She watched him intently, hooked on his every word.

"I was quickly swept downstream," he continued an angry note entering his tone, though not directed at anyone in particular. "I managed to break through the hardened ice once in order to take a quick breath before I was swept away again. It was enough for my Mother, who had been nearby, to hear my cry and come looking for me. I would have drowned if not for my mother breaking apart the ice and fishing me out." He sighed, evidently trying to release whatever angry emotions he held still inside of him. "That day haunts me. And since then I hate the water and the dream of drowning, I will never allow myself to suffer such a fate." He growled softly to himself.

Saphira could see that he was angry at the weakness he showed, and surmised that fear was not something he felt often – if at all – and despised. But she could not find it in her to mock him, for drowning seemed to be a very horrible way to die, especially for a young hatchling without the strength to save himself. Before she could think better of it, she relaxed her wings, allowing them to fall limp beside her, her feathers gently brushing the leathery membranes in his closest wing. Smaug stiffened slightly and looked at her sharply, though she wasn't looking at him, pretending as if nothing had happened as she seemed to be settling down as if for sleep.

"Live in the present, remember the past, and fear not the future." She whispered in his mind softly, the familiar words she had spoken once before coming back to her easily with a fond memory in her heart. She found the saying to be true for Smaug as well as herself, giving her something to ponder. "For it doesn't exist and never shall. There is only now."

She could feel Smaug's eyes upon her, studying her intently, though she ignored him as she receded from his mind and pretended to be falling asleep. After some time, Smaug seemed to come to whatever conclusion suited him, for exhaled softly, and she heard his scales scrape against the stone as he too settled down for slumber.

And that night, they both slept peacefully with no dreams, side by side, only their wings softly touching.