Monster - [Smaug the Magnificent]

4. I was Never One for Pretenders

Dinah couldn’t help but sneak off, away from the chamber of gold. She felt like a child, sneaking out of their bed at night when they weren’t suppose to. How would Smaug know? She reckoned, smiling to herself as she explored the dwarven ruins. She had heard legends of Erebor, how majestic it had once been...until the fire drake took it.

She came to a long corridor, crumbling from age and previous damage. It looked like it was a once great ballroom, and she imagined herself in an elegant dress, floating around with a man...

She’d never been with a man. She’d been too busy taking her mothers place while her father slaved away to support the family. And now, under these circumstances, she’d never have a man, or a husband, or a family. She’d be forever tragically alone with a dragon as her only companion. Without realizing it, Dinah had been spinning in circles, making herself dizzy. She laughed, finally feeling free to do so. She never even laughed, before she was captured. Her life was such a tragedy, but in that moment, she didn’t care anymore.

She danced and twirled her way across the ballroom, and towards an open doorway. She imagined herself dancing hand in hand with a gentleman, her hair twirling with her, a ballgown swirling too. She danced and danced and danced, until she’d made it to the other side of the room, and now stood at the corridor.

She gazed up at it, catching her breath as she did. The archway was so intricately detailed, carefully crafted with steady hands, apparently. This is what Dinah loved; art, not hordes of gold. She ran her hand along the carvings, following them down the corridor, which was beginning to grow dark. Dinah pushed on, despite the dimly lit hallway. She felt along the wall, her fingers running within the curves of the designs.

Suddenly, her foot jammed on something, and she stumbled to her knees. She felt the sting of the scrape, but that was the least of her worries.

What had tripped her up?

She felt along the floor in the dark, her fingers dipping into a hole, along something rigid and then something rather hairy. She jerked back, fearing she had dipped her fingers into a spider’s nest. She continued her venture in the dark, thinking that whatever she would find in here, would be much better than the dragon out there.

She would prove herself wrong.

Dinah walked until she could see just a hint of light off to her right, leading into another room. Dust was heavy in the air, tickling Dinah’s nose, and she peered into the dorm. The light was being given off by a high window, covered in dust. This must’ve been a bedroom, for the stone bed frame was still standing. There was a pile of rubble stacked up in the middle of the bed, intriguing her. If only she could see clearly.

She made for the nightstand, hope maybe there would be an untouched oil lamp, or match that she could strike. She could feel the glass of the lamp, and she gently shook it, listening for the liquid inside. She reached inside, feeling for a wick. She held it in one hand, and felt around for a match within the drawer. In the far corner of the drawer, she felt a small, splintered piece of wood. Just one. She pulled it out, and scraped it against the wall.

Nothing.

She did it again. This time the match ignited, and she dipped it down, pressing it again the wick and the flame spread. She blew the match out, tossing it to the side, and turned.