[Taking a handkerchief from his robe, he deftly wraps the injured hand, showing very little care for how the cloth might irritate the wound. It is enough that he covers at all, really.]

I like to see you suffer, oh great Smaug. [He grins and dabs at the cut on the Dragon's cheek.] For all of those you have slain, it is fitting that you now feel their weakness; their despair.

You reached too high. You never sought to know your enemy. [He manipulated them just fine; Thranduil knows this is a clever beast, but he never understood weakness.] Be fire; be death, however, understand that the tides can always be turned against you.