Dragon One-Shots

(Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit) An Act of Vengeance(Smaug x Human Reader)

This is for Azureman136 who requested I do a Smaug X Reader.

Hope this is ok

Emma

*Fifteen years before the events of Erebor*

No POV

Smaug stirred in his mountain. He lay upon thousands upon thousands of gold coins, chalices and gems, though not under them, just on them; he didn't have enough treasure to immerse himself in. Not yet, anyway. His mountain at the time was nowhere near as large as Erebor, nor was his treasure. He had rested here, in this mountain, for two months, after destroying his last one while trying to get out of it. He had slept for too long and had grown too big to get out of his cave. And so, he spent months upon months scouring the land for an alternative place to call home.

When he first came here, his chamber was devoid of riches, so he made it his job to pillage as many villages as possible in the area. Then, the lords from farther away towns, but still near enough for Smaug to pillage with an hour of beating his mighty wings, would drop enourmous amounts of gold and other wealthy possessions at the base of his new mountain. He smirked at the thought; men were so scared of him, they gave up their wealth to keep the fire-drake at bay.

So, he did not need to leave his chamber. Until now.

Something had disturbed him from his slumber.

A sound echoed through the chamber. The dragon stirred again. It sounded like a choked sobbing. And then another sound found its way into the chamber. This time it sounded like sniffling. The sobbing and sniffling rang through the chamber again, and again, and again. It was never-ending.

Smaug snapped open his amber eyes. His pupil narrowed down to a black slit in the middle of his orange sapphire eye. Who dared whimper and weep in his mountain? Who dared to disturb his slumber with their sorrows?

He rose to his feet, tail whipping through the air, knocking his treasure about. It displeased him. His lip rolled up into a snarl as he growled. He walked towards the wide tunnel into the chamber, the pale moonlight beamed down the steep slope of a tunnel. He had noticed the sobbing had turned into whimpering, but it still bugged him. It itched at his sensitive ears as he climbed up the tunnel, his front claws gripping the walls, his back ones pushing him forward.

He emerged onto the platform at the yawning entrance of the tunnel. His large red-gold head poking out of the entrance. He heard the shuffling of tiny feet to the side. He smelled the air. He could smell a human youngling. He looked in the child's direction, seeing its shoulder poke out from behind one of the spiking stones by the entrance.

Smaug emerged further out of the tunnel, curious why a child, of all things, was up here. He'd had knights, lords, the odd woman, come before him with offerings, either that of death, treasure or food. He'd only ever taken the treasure and eaten the knights, though--they never stood a chance against him. But never had he had a child in front of him.

He moved his head to see the child, his long neck moving as elegantly as a snake through the air. He looked down at the child with a large orange-yellow eye. The child was curled into a ball, trembling with fear and the cold, sniffling. He/She/They were young, about six or seven years old. He/She/They were dressed in a dirty, torn tunic. He/She/They had long, matted hair and his/her/their skin was as filthy as their clothes. He/She/They trembled on the ground as he looked over him/her/them, looking at his/her/their skinny dirty knees.