Chapter 6 – Similarities

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Eating the strangest creatures that Smaug could drag up from the depths of the mountain, Saphira was slowly regaining her strength, bringing herself back to full health. When all she did all day was doze on her perch, groom herself to keep herself in top shape, and eat whatever Smaug brought her, it only took about three days for Saphira to get back to full strength. But she thought she would soon die of BOREDOM. Smaug tried to talk with her and at least be civil with her, but she was still incredibly bitter with him, and honestly didn't find a single thing in common with him, she didn't want to give him the time of day, but when she tried to ignore him, he threw a tantrum and began to smash a column or two and breathe fire in his rage. It just made Saphira's life easier to just speak in blunt and snappy answers, he soon gave up and did his usual laziness.

But still Saphira felt a restlessness in her bones that she couldn't quite disperse, and it was slowly driving her mad. She wanted to fly, to hunt, but both were impossible seeing as Smaug wouldn't let her leave the mountain. The only other option to sate her restlessness, was to fight. Saphira loved to fight, and if she could fight her captor then she would have been more than happy. But alas, common sense was not in agreement with that thought.

So, one morning, in an attempt to quell her restless mind, she had wondered if she could contact Glaedr or even any of the other Eldunari from the Vault of Souls. They may have all been dead and their bodies reduced to dust, but their minds had been placed in that of their heart-of-hearts, and so could be contacted via a mental link. Saphira spent the best part of a morning reaching out with her mind, stretching as far as she could, passing the minds of many dumb animals and even those of humans and some bands of dwarves. But she only made it until the ocean, when her mind was seemingly crying out from the pain of stretching herself so, her physical body was shaking and she felt as if she would snap. With a snarl of frustration and pain, she gave up and withdrew back into her mind. Sulking now as she felt the sting of her failure, realising what she should have known; that any help she sought was very far away.

She only then became aware of Smaug picking his claws through a certain mound of his vast treasure, looking through a particular spot, as if he was looking for something very specific. With a single long talon of one of his two fingers, he flicked aside jewels, coins, cups and trinkets as he searched and searched. Finally, with a self-satisfied sigh, Smaug retrieved a belt that Saphira supposed once belonged to a very large and round mortal, and he turned to find her watching him; a smug smirk spreading across his muzzle as he locked eye with her. Saphira snorted at him, lifting her head and arching her neck to look down on him with disdain. Holding the belt in the claws of one hand, Smaug made his way towards her, climbing the wide steps to her perch until he was at the top but not on her level. Saphira turned to face him, seemingly relaxed and unbothered by him as she peered down her nose at him, though her tail was curled around her talons and the muscles in her legs were ready encase he tried something like last time. But instead, Smaug just looked at her, his bright eyes roaming her body as he took in every scale, ever feather, drinking in her beauty. Saphira felt her pride swell slightly, even though her irritation and caution only grew.

'Is there something you need?' she snapped at him impatiently.

"In all my years," Smaug purred, and it was not a pleasant sound. "I have never encountered a dragon who was not immediately taken by the mere thought of treasure. Do you tell me, Saphira, truly: you do not find even a single coin to be utterly dazzling?" he gestured out to his hoard with a flick of a finger.

'I have told you before.' She grumbled in his mind. 'Your trinkets are pretty, but have no practical use,'

"I can find one," he murmured, eyeing her. Saphira raised a scaly brow at him as she regarded him with one eye, curious but also growing suspicious.

'Oh? And what would that be?'

"To accentuate your beauty," he said simply.

Saphira was so taken aback by this sudden statement that she had to blink in surprise and was momentarily speechless.

"Saphira..." Smaug tested out her name as if it were a rich taste upon his tongue, and Saphira was unsure of what to make of the shiver that ran down her spine. "It is a name befitting of one who is made of the brightest sapphires, and yet as ferocious as a fire storm. Despite the fact that you can very difficult on my patience, I cannot help but marvel at the sight that you are. I have never encountered a female of your splendour or fierceness."

'In Alagaesia, I am the most beautiful of all creatures, dragon or no,' Saphira said proudly, allowing him to play to her vanity as she felt her back straighten and she lifted her head regally. Though she still looked at him with open suspicion, for what was the point to all this flattery?

"I have never flown so far to a land such as that. Is that where you have come from?" he asked, actual interest brightening his eyes.

'Yes,' she replied. 'It lies far away, and beyond the reach of most. Yet I flew across the ocean until I found myself here,' Saphira dared not say more about her homeland, for she did not know what a dragon like Smaug would do with that information in the future.

"Then surely one as beautiful and powerful as my mate, should be adorned with nothing but the greatest jewels in all the world. If only for all to see how such treasures pale in comparison to your lovely scales," he then held out to her the belt, and Saphira managed to get a good look at it: it was a large creation, made of gold metal links studded with diamonds that sparkled and in the centre was one very large sapphire.

'What is it?' she asked with narrowed eyes.

"A gift. If you will allow it." he said simply.

Saphira studied the contraption, unable to take her eyes off of the sapphire, Smaug's words seeping into her mind and repeating inside her head, whispering to her as she stared at the gem that matched her own scales. Was Smaug correct? Should she wear such things in order to show off her beauty? She knew that mortals found gems to be the most beautiful thing of all; when she wore it, would they see how inferior such a lifeless object was when compared with her magnificence? It was an intriguing thought to say the least. Looking up to meet Smaug's eyes once again, she found that he was oddly unreadable, his eyes locking with hers in a pitiless stare. His mind was closed off to her, so she could not read his thoughts on what his plan was. But her interest was now piqued, and so she nodded to him, and leant her head forward, offering him the back of her neck.

She heard a satisfied noise escape Smaug, and she gave a low growl of warning. She then felt the cool touch of the belt around her neck as Smaug slipped around the thinnest part. His claws worked with surprising dexterity and swiftness as he clipped the belt into place and not a moment had passed and he was done. Saphira lifted her head, feeling the odd weight of the belt pressing against her throat, not uncomfortably, but enough to keep it in place. It was odd to feel, and not something she could ignore, for it staid tight on her neck, like a "chocker" necklace she had seen Nusuada wear before. She couldn't bend in the right way in order to see it, but from the look in Smaug's eye... her pride felt another swell as he gazed upon her greedily.

"As I suspected," he murmured. "The beauty of treasure is only marred by the beauty of dragons,"

'But I cannot see it,' Saphira pointed out.

"Then come, and I shall show you," he commanded, and turned from her in order to walk back across his hoard. Saphira watched him for a moment, a battle waging inside of herself as caution warred with curiosity. But unable to deny herself, she carefully began to descend the stairs and follow after Saphira across the heaps and piles of treasure that shifted and sank beneath her like dunes of sand in the Hadarac Desert. They made their way across the vast room, Smaug seeming to know exactly where he was going. As they moved, Saphira cast her eye over the many treasures at her feet, a new appreciation forming in her mind as Smaug's words continued to haunt her, and she looked on strings of pearls and jewels of rubies and emeralds with ideas on how they could help to enhance her own magnificent beauty... even if such thoughts quietly made her uneasy.

Finally, they seemed to reach their destination, as Smaug suddenly plucked up what appeared to be a golden disk as tall as three two-legs, inscription written into the outer edges, a shine to it that reflected the world perfectly. Saphira raised a scaly eyebrow at Smaug doubtfully.

'And what is so important about this one?' she asked him.

"This holds the greatest shine than any other, and will give you a perfect reflection," he told her as if a simpleton should know this. Saphira had to restrain her growl in response.

'And you know that, how? What makes this one any different from the others?'

"A dragon with any pride must know his treasure down to the last ounce. I will know if even a single coin is missing from its place." Smaug told with a smug smirk. He then held up the large golden disk in his talons and presented it to her until her face was reflected back to herself.

Saphira inspected her own image, and was rather surprised to find her own beautiful face, her long elegant neck, was as it should be. But below her head, at the thinnest part of her throat, was the belt that looked like a choker necklace. The diamonds sparkled with an almost magical gleam, causing her own scales to glitter as they reflected the light; the sapphire in the centre matched her eyes and scales, drawing the attention of the eye. And Saphira had to admit, even if only for second to herself, that she could see the appeal that Smaug had for such treasures, for he was right, it did show off her beauty rather expertly, and Saphira even found herself thinking of trying those strings pearls to decorate around her horns perhaps. She could imagine she would be the envy of all those who laid eyes on her, and there was enough pretty little things in this vast treasure hoard to make her a living jewel...

She frowned slightly as she looked upon her reflection again, disturbed by her sudden thoughts. Saphira had never desired treasures before, for they had no purpose during a war; how fast had that sudden burst of greed taken hold of her that she had contemplated having all the jewels in this Mountain, and what price would she have paid for them had such madness continued within her. Glaring at her reflection, Saphira couldn't help but suddenly look at the belt... and compare it to a dog's collar.

In one fast movement, she seized the belt in her talons and wrenched it apart, breaking it easily as the golden links snapped from one another and the jewels fell to the ground. Instantly, Smaug's eyes widened as a strangled roar of outrage erupted from him, and he leapt for the gold that fell from her throat, fury in his eyes at what she had done. But Saphira was already retreating away from him, making sure he knew that she had no interest in his "offerings". But she only made it a few dozen steps before Smaug's voice cut across to her.

"Are you mad?!" he snarled.

'You cannot buy my affection with pretty baubles,' Saphira muttered stiffly, only turning her head slightly to show him her teeth.

"You're trying my patience Saphira with this ignorant stubbornness! Are you imbecilic or simply incompetent?!" his voice echoed around the chamber angrily, cutting to Saphira and her own temper.

'What is that supposed to mean?!' she turned to face him, eyes blazing as she settled into an aggressive pose, even as Smaug stood straight and tall in a dominating fashion.

"Do you or do you not know the mating rites?" he demanded icily. Saphira hesitated for only a moment, but that was enough as Smaug snorted, his eyes narrowing to look down his nose at her as if she were a simpleton. "A male will offer a piece of treasure to a desired mate, showing her a piece of the wealth she might receive should she chose him." He snorted in her face derisively. "I thought you had not been mated before, but I had suspected that it was due to your insufferable stubbornness. Do you mean to tell me that you have not even been courted before?"

'Of course not,' Saphira snapped, stung by his words to the point where she felt utterly furious, shaking in place as she struggled to contain her emotions at the sore spot that Smaug was unintentionally (or possibly intentionally) provoking. She suddenly felt an odd need to explain herself, and so rushed ahead: 'Where I have come from, I was born the last female of my kind. I had no mother to teach me, I did not even meet a dragon until I was mature. And besides, I was surrounded by males who didn't exactly have the time to court me,' she muttered the last part rather bitterly.

A sound filled the air, and it took Saphira a moment to realise that it was Smaug's laughter, he was chuckling to himself. It only fuelled Saphira's anger as she growled at him savagely, baring her teeth.

"I thought that was a joke," Smaug explained as his mirth dried up and he gave her a hard look. "I find it quite improbable that any male would not want you. You are young, capable, a fierce warrior, a beauty, seemingly of good breeding, and powerful. I was actually surprised that you did not even hold a single mating scar, new or faded."

'Then what of you?! I am to assume that you have mated before?' she asked hotly, turning the conversation quickly back to him as she felt her insides twist as the sore spot threatened to drown her in sorrow. How could Smaug, a creature she despised who barely knew her, see her worth as a mate where no dragon had wanted to see before? She had been alone all this time, thinking herself somehow at fault for this reason, and yet she was told that she was practically perfect? But of course, she was being ridiculous, she told herself, for there hadn't been much time to mate and raise eggs in the middle of a war.

"Of course," Smaug replied smugly. "I have won many females in my time, some I even fought had to fight for... the fools that were my opposition didn't last long."

At his words, Saphira's eyes were drawn to the scars that riddled his body, from claw marks on his chest to scratches on his muzzle to even chipped scales and spikes. He was a living record of his hard life, and Saphira could sympathise with that, for she was a warrior herself, but she didn't have a single mark to show for it.

'From your battle scars I can see you have faced many enemies,' she said in what was perhaps the most civil tone she had used with Smaug yet, as she were speaking in an afterthought.

"Battle is a song in my blood, I kill where I wish, WHEN I wish. Each scratch and scar is a testament to the battles I have fought and won. I think my first mark, was this one," he pointed to a grove on his muzzle that went from the top of his snot, over his lip and almost to the bottom of his jaw. "I had only just left the nest to make my own way in the world, I had wandered into a rival male's territory, and he found me alone picking at my recent kill in a gorge. He thought to corner me and fight me, he was older and bigger then I, he believed it would be easy. This scratch was his first blow, when he dropped out of the sky without warning and raked a talon across my face. Perhaps the fool was half blind, for I think he meant to get my eye." As Smaug told the story, Saphira found herself turning to look at him, her eyes watching him with interest. "However, that was the only hit he landed on me. despite the blood and pain, he had made me furious; I unbalanced him when I smashed my tail into his legs, almost fracturing one of them. Even as he tried to bite me, I was smaller and quicker, I easily found my way underneath him, my teeth easily found his throat. He tried to shake me off, but I held firm; I pushed him until his head smashed onto some nearby rocks, dazing him. I then ripped out his throat."

'I commend you for your quick thinking,' was all Saphira said.

"Have you seen battle, pretty one?" Smaug asked as if he doubted it. Feeling her pride be prickled by his words, Saphira lifted her head high, as she gave him a glare.

'I was six months old when I entered my first battle,' she explained. 'My first battle-wound, I achieved when an Urgal smashed his battleaxe into my chest-plate armour. It bent the metal and almost crushed my ribs, preventing me from breathing. It healed rather well,' she added as she thought of how Eragon and Aria had worked to save her at the battle of Farthen Dur.

"And Urgal? I have not encountered one of those before," Smaug mused as he settled onto his haunches.

Instead of explaining, Saphira sent him a mental picture from one of her memories: that of the hulking, grey skinned, muscled creatures that towered over humans, with large ram-like horns on their heads, charging as they roared into battle. She saw Smaug blink nodding to say that he had seen the image, and then to rub it in, she sent him a picture from another memory, that of her fighting hordes of the creatures in battle. She was pleased when Smaug grinned with approval.

They talked for a while longer. Finally, the two dragons seemed to have found a topic that they could both agree on and speak without any hostility, as they exchange battle scar stories. Saphira even found herself enjoying it, the only similarity between her and Smaug so far not being any lust for treasure, but their lust for blood.