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Smaug seldom dreamed.
Despite the time he spent buried in the sea of treasure, his thoughts circle not on the golden pool he surrounded himself in. He desired freedom, the blue and clear autumn sky, the gray and dull winter days, the golden and the beige of the last of the autumn days. He would have spent day after day covering the endless sky with the shadows of his fearless wings. He would travel through the greenery of the elven kingdom, to let those forest creatures admire what mighty a creation he was, but those proud and stern beings hardly gave him a glance. Dull, coward ones, so Smaug cared not of them and flew on.
The passing of time for him was meaningless. But someday, humans began occupying the realms he once flew freely upon, and humans, the foolish packs of moving flesh and bones, and their fear to those greater than they were, then they saw Smaug. Arrows were shot, canons were fired. Smaug was being exiled from the sky he once trod.
Who was to have any right to exile him of all? The sky didn't belong to wingless beings.
Enraged, Smaug returned the favor. Cities burnt, lives taken, the banishment never ended. The sky was no longer the realm of a dragon. He was angry, his breaths fire to the city of stones, unneeded civilization built by far lesser beings, only he was outnumbered.
The sky was no longer his realm.
He turned his hatred for creatures all across Middle Earth to jewels, treasures desired by all across Middle Earth, and guarded them under his big, fearful wings. Treasures precious to many, he took without mercy. Because his was taken in that manner.
He sunk into the darkness, out of the view of the nauseous creatures, and laid among the many, many jewels taken from them. He swam in the sea of gold, silver and stones, and embraced them out of the resentment deep in his fiery heart.
Time left no trace of passing, Smaug fell into a deep slumber, his dreams filled with empty darkness. A long, long time ago,there was a time when he would dream of the blue and clear autumn sky, the gray and dull winter days, the golden and the beige of the last of the autumn days. His wings were blades cutting through the wind, his magnificent body cast shadows over the valley and rivers. The glistening of the spring water liked stars on the ground.
Now, his dreams shone of harsh golden shimmers, cold light reflecting off diamonds, and shallow greed.