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Thorin had watched for years as his grandfather hoarded the vast wealth of his people, and though he was young by dwarf standards he knew in his heart there was only one way for things to end. That was why he wasn't as surprised as some others when the dragon Smaug invaded Erebor, and he was far more prepared for it. Now, however, he was regretting all of that. Yes, staring up into the inhuman golden eyes of the dragon he knew that it had been foolish to rush back into to halls and make sure everyone had cleared out. It was stupid to have thought that he could save anyone who might have been trapped by the crumbling stone the dragon left in his wake.

Claws gripped tightly to his hair, pulling back the dwarf prince's head as he tried to look away. His head throbbed from some kind of wound on the right side, Thorin could feel the blood slowly trickling from it. Likewise his lip stung from another bleeding wound, and several places on his body ached from bruises and what he was sure was at least one broken bone somewhere. Thorin thought to himself that if he ever made it out of this place alive it would be a miracle, for he was sure that his kin would think he died in the halls of the great city when he did not emerge. Even if they thought that he lived they would not come for him, everyone was too afraid of Smaug and would not go near the dwarven city again for many years.

"My my, what a bold little prince you are." Smaug teased, bringing his face closer to Thorin's so as to better see the fear in his eyes.

No longer was this the great beast that had broken down the great stone gates and trampled through the halls. Smaug now appeared to be mostly human, a detail that unsettled Thorin as he flinched when the melded abomination brought his free hand up to gently stroke a finger down the wounded side of the dwarf's face.

In his own terrible way Smaug was beautiful like this. He was tall and slender, parts of his body still covered in miniature versions of the scales his larger self had possessed. His hair was black streaked with a flaming red, shorter around the top with a little bit of the bottom left to grow so long that it hung over one shoulder and almost to his midsection, contained with a single golden bead near the end in a sort of mock ponytail of sorts. It perfectly framed his face, human in appearance but bearing the bright golden eyes and sharp teeth of his dragon form while his ears seemed to be elongated and covered in scales, resembling more the horns of a dragon than ears without looking too strange. His hands bore the scales almost up to his wrists, the long claws remaining and sharp as ever - something Thorin could attest to since he could practically feel them leaving marks on his scalp as Smaug continued to hold a tight grip on his own dark hair. Though smaller now, Smaug still had his wings; wider than Thorin was tall, black around the tissue that overlaid the bone structure and the same red as his hair in the thin membrane that connected them. A long, slender, scaled tail swished back and forth behind him, often curling around some of the various larger golden objects that were within reach as if studying them. From the glimpse Thorin had been able to catch when he attempted to look away it appeared as if Smaug's feet, however, had not changed much. As with all the other dragon features he retained in this humanoid form they were smaller but still clearly the three toed and clawed feet of a dragon, scales and all, though it was harder to tell where that ended and his skin began since the dark blue pants obscured the point where dragon became human.

"What's the matter, hm? Dragon got your tongue?" Smaug laughed, knowing full well that he was in control now and nothing Thorin did would change that.

Still, Thorin said nothing. He would not give Smaug the satisfaction of a reaction if he could help it, he would not back down in the face of this enemy. If he died it would be honorably, having given others the chance to escape the dragon's fury so that they could carry on, and perhaps someday rally to reclaim Erebor.

"Very well. You must be in pain, I can see it in the way you breathe. Rest then, and I will have some fun with you later." Smaug released his grip and Thorin fell to his knees, hissing under his breath as his body protested the movement with a stinging sensation from almost everything that hurt.

There was no place to go, no way to escape. Smaug had made himself at home amongst the vast mountains of gold, sitting upon one to watch over Thorin and ensure he did not try to escape. Not that it mattered, Thorin doubted he would get far even if the dragon was not staring him down. Darkness was settling in at the edges of his vision, and even if he could make it out of Erebor there was nothing left. Dale was in ruins, the humans were long gone and the dwarves would have fled as fast as they could to escape the dragon. There would have been no one to help him for more than a day's journey, a day that Thorin would not survive with his wounds. Now he was to become a plaything for the dragon, looked upon not as a living being but as simply another treasure within the hoard. The only consolation Thorin had as he fell into unconsciousness was that he would likely die of starvation before long and not have to endure too much of whatever torture Smaug had planned for him. After all, dragons were cruel creatures that owed their allegiance to no one but themselves, they thought nothing of humans or dwarves or elves.

As Thorin's mind tuned out his body and unconsciousness took over, Smaug left to search through the enormous dwarven city. He needed a way to contain his prize, ensure that the pretty little prince would not try to sneak off or worse yet try to kill him when he needed to sleep or go in search of food for himself. The dungeon was as good a place as any to start, the doors no match for the immense strength Smaug held even in his hybrid form and gave in without much effort. It took a little bit of creativity, but eventually Smaug had what he was looking for and returned to his newly claimed treasures. He wanted to contain Thorin, yes, but at the same time he needed something that would be easy to remove just in case and something that would not restrict the dwarf too much. This was remedied with a single shackle fitted around the ankle, its chain long enough to give Thorin some room to move around while the other end wrapped around a nearby pillar and another shackle clamped over the chain. It created a sort of choke collar around the pillar, but since the great piece of carved stone ran from the floor to the ceiling there would be no way for Thorin to remove it thus keeping him tethered and yet free to move around to some extent. What a lovely surprise for his little dwarf prince, and so Smaug allowed him to sleep as his wounds healed. It gave the dragon more time to think, to plan, and to have something ready for when Thorin awoke. Something fun, something that would ensure Thorin would never forget the time he spent there.

Description
Thorin had watched for years as his grandfather hoarded the vast wealth of his people, and though he was young by dwarf standards he knew in his heart there was only one way for things to end. That was why he wasn't as surprised as some others when the dragon Smaug invaded Erebor, and he was far more prepared for it. Now, however, he was regretting all of that. Yes, staring up into the inhuman golden eyes of the dragon he knew that it had been foolish to rush back into to halls and make sure everyone had cleared out. It was stupid to have thought that he could save anyone who might have been trapped by the crumbling stone the dragon left in his wake.

Claws gripped tightly to his hair, pulling back the dwarf prince's head as he tried to look away. His head throbbed from some kind of wound on the right side, Thorin could feel the blood slowly trickling from it. Likewise his lip stung from another bleeding wound, and several places on his body ached from bruises and what he was sure was at least one broken bone somewhere. Thorin thought to himself that if he ever made it out of this place alive it would be a miracle, for he was sure that his kin would think he died in the halls of the great city when he did not emerge. Even if they thought that he lived they would not come for him, everyone was too afraid of Smaug and would not go near the dwarven city again for many years.

"My my, what a bold little prince you are." Smaug teased, bringing his face closer to Thorin's so as to better see the fear in his eyes.

No longer was this the great beast that had broken down the great stone gates and trampled through the halls. Smaug now appeared to be mostly human, a detail that unsettled Thorin as he flinched when the melded abomination brought his free hand up to gently stroke a finger down the wounded side of the dwarf's face.

In his own terrible way Smaug was beautiful like this. He was tall and slender, parts of his body still covered in miniature versions of the scales his larger self had possessed. His hair was black streaked with a flaming red, shorter around the top with a little bit of the bottom left to grow so long that it hung over one shoulder and almost to his midsection, contained with a single golden bead near the end in a sort of mock ponytail of sorts. It perfectly framed his face, human in appearance but bearing the bright golden eyes and sharp teeth of his dragon form while his ears seemed to be elongated and covered in scales, resembling more the horns of a dragon than ears without looking too strange. His hands bore the scales almost up to his wrists, the long claws remaining and sharp as ever - something Thorin could attest to since he could practically feel them leaving marks on his scalp as Smaug continued to hold a tight grip on his own dark hair. Though smaller now, Smaug still had his wings; wider than Thorin was tall, black around the tissue that overlaid the bone structure and the same red as his hair in the thin membrane that connected them. A long, slender, scaled tail swished back and forth behind him, often curling around some of the various larger golden objects that were within reach as if studying them. From the glimpse Thorin had been able to catch when he attempted to look away it appeared as if Smaug's feet, however, had not changed much. As with all the other dragon features he retained in this humanoid form they were smaller but still clearly the three toed and clawed feet of a dragon, scales and all, though it was harder to tell where that ended and his skin began since the dark blue pants obscured the point where dragon became human.

"What's the matter, hm? Dragon got your tongue?" Smaug laughed, knowing full well that he was in control now and nothing Thorin did would change that.

Still, Thorin said nothing. He would not give Smaug the satisfaction of a reaction if he could help it, he would not back down in the face of this enemy. If he died it would be honorably, having given others the chance to escape the dragon's fury so that they could carry on, and perhaps someday rally to reclaim Erebor.

"Very well. You must be in pain, I can see it in the way you breathe. Rest then, and I will have some fun with you later." Smaug released his grip and Thorin fell to his knees, hissing under his breath as his body protested the movement with a stinging sensation from almost everything that hurt.

There was no place to go, no way to escape. Smaug had made himself at home amongst the vast mountains of gold, sitting upon one to watch over Thorin and ensure he did not try to escape. Not that it mattered, Thorin doubted he would get far even if the dragon was not staring him down. Darkness was settling in at the edges of his vision, and even if he could make it out of Erebor there was nothing left. Dale was in ruins, the humans were long gone and the dwarves would have fled as fast as they could to escape the dragon. There would have been no one to help him for more than a day's journey, a day that Thorin would not survive with his wounds. Now he was to become a plaything for the dragon, looked upon not as a living being but as simply another treasure within the hoard. The only consolation Thorin had as he fell into unconsciousness was that he would likely die of starvation before long and not have to endure too much of whatever torture Smaug had planned for him. After all, dragons were cruel creatures that owed their allegiance to no one but themselves, they thought nothing of humans or dwarves or elves.

As Thorin's mind tuned out his body and unconsciousness took over, Smaug left to search through the enormous dwarven city. He needed a way to contain his prize, ensure that the pretty little prince would not try to sneak off or worse yet try to kill him when he needed to sleep or go in search of food for himself. The dungeon was as good a place as any to start, the doors no match for the immense strength Smaug held even in his hybrid form and gave in without much effort. It took a little bit of creativity, but eventually Smaug had what he was looking for and returned to his newly claimed treasures. He wanted to contain Thorin, yes, but at the same time he needed something that would be easy to remove just in case and something that would not restrict the dwarf too much. This was remedied with a single shackle fitted around the ankle, its chain long enough to give Thorin some room to move around while the other end wrapped around a nearby pillar and another shackle clamped over the chain. It created a sort of choke collar around the pillar, but since the great piece of carved stone ran from the floor to the ceiling there would be no way for Thorin to remove it thus keeping him tethered and yet free to move around to some extent. What a lovely surprise for his little dwarf prince, and so Smaug allowed him to sleep as his wounds healed. It gave the dragon more time to think, to plan, and to have something ready for when Thorin awoke. Something fun, something that would ensure Thorin would never forget the time he spent there.