@teardownheaven Asked: "Mighty Smaug! Golden One! Master of the Lonely Mountain!" His voice echoes clearly from the gates of Erebor, pitched to carry as well as possible to entreat the dragon deep within. Lexaeus takes a deep breath, and continues his address. "Bringer of fire and destroyer of Dale! I bring you gifts, and beg an audience! Grant me permission to tread within your domain!"
The sound is more than enough to wake him, voice echoing off the cavernous walls of Erabor and carrying itself to him. He listens close as he rouses, a deep breath enough to bring the flame in his chest to a full burn and begin to heat the damp air of the halls to something far hotter than the comfortable cool of shadowed stone.
He stretches under the sea of gold coins, wings sending them sliding in all directions, both back down onto his back and further away from him as he repositions himself into a place more fit for... Company.
“Enter, bearer of gifts!” His volume is sure to be heard even by human ears, rattling scattered pebbles with it’s depth. “Leave all where it lies!” A warning that few would get, but one he gave regardless. It has been quite some time since he was woken so graciously, after all.


















