vulgarweed (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vulgarweed) wrote2015-02-13 02:31 am
vulgarweed) wrote2015-02-13 02:31 am
Still a while to go on this but
First few hundred words of current WIP:
It had been a long, exhausting flight, made worse by the brutal storms that sometimes wracked the sharp, cruel peaks of the aptly-named Misty Mountains. And periodically there was a need to swoop down low to the ground over the valleys and plains, scanning with keen eyes for any sign of habitation. The long, long forest revealed nothing, and even on a windy plain, there was little to see but herds of handsome horses (Tempting, in his hunger, but he could not trust the consequences. These horses were surely of value to someone).
He managed to catch a deer by the rocky shores of a river, and devoured it quickly, lamenting that there was no time to cook it properly and no loyal chef to marinate it in exactly the way he had come to prefer.
In the end, it was not a human that he found to speak to, but a bird. A raven fluttered to the ground and began to peck at the parts of the guts that the dragon found unsavoury, apparently completely unfazed by the size and huge teeth and claws of his dinner companion.
“Thanks for the offal,” said the raven. “It's very tasty.”
The dragon blinked his huge blue eyes. He hadn't expected the annoying little creature to talk. “You know these lands well. You fly great distances looking for food.”
“I do,” the raven nodded as he jerked his head to get a strip of intestine down his beak. “I am Croäc son of Roäc, and my people have been the eyes in the air in these lands for many, many years.”
“Maybe you can help me find my captain, then,” the dragon said hopefully, though his optimism was not great.
“Maybe I could. A captain? You mean, of a ship?”
“No. Of me. I imagine, I am a ship in a certain sense.”
The raven laughed, a weird throaty cawing sound. “That's something I never thought I'd hear a dragon say. Never heard of a dragon admitting to take orders from anyone.”
“I don't take orders,” the black dragon hissed, affronted. “Captain Laurence is my friend. We are a team. And I am very, very worried about him, so I'd appreciate it if you would tell me if you've seen him, without any unnecessary mocking.”
“What sort of a creature is he? Another dragon? I have to say, I only know of one of those around here, and it's hard to imagine anyone calling him a friend.”
“He's not a dragon,” said the dragon, wondering just how this bird could know so little of how these things worked. “He's a man. A very handsome and well-dressed one, if I say so myself, and I do, because I dressed him myself. Now, where would I be likely to find someone who might know where he is?”
“Well, all the handsome, well-dressed Men are pretty far from here, if you ask me,” said the raven. “You might have to go all the way to Gondor for that.”
“I'm looking for a specific one,” said the dragon, exasperated. The raven hopped away quickly at the expulsion of breath, and then seemed relieved at something that didn't happen. “And I have reason to believe he's come this way.”
“Well, there's nothing for it then,” said the raven. “I'll have my people keep an eye out for him – and keep an eye on you – but you know you can't possibly pass unnoticed. You'll most likely have to answer to him. The King Under the Mountain.”
“That doesn't frighten me at all, and I don't know why you'd think it would,” huffed the dragon. “My Laurence is a prince of a great empire, and we've had extensive dealings with royalty in our own lands. For the most part, it's possible to help them see reason by appealing to their own interests. I'm sure your King Under the Mountain is a rational man.”
“He's not my king,” said the raven with a little click of his beak. “I doubt I would call him rational, and he certainly isn't a Man.”
“What is he then?”
“About the same size as you, I'd say, though it's been a long time since he left his lair.” said the raven. “Can you breathe fire? When you approach the Lonely Mountain, you'll see a burnt city and miles of desolation. He did that.”
Yeah, this is totally going where you think it's probably going. Tonight, 3,000 words in, I finally got the breakthrough on how that happens!
It had been a long, exhausting flight, made worse by the brutal storms that sometimes wracked the sharp, cruel peaks of the aptly-named Misty Mountains. And periodically there was a need to swoop down low to the ground over the valleys and plains, scanning with keen eyes for any sign of habitation. The long, long forest revealed nothing, and even on a windy plain, there was little to see but herds of handsome horses (Tempting, in his hunger, but he could not trust the consequences. These horses were surely of value to someone).
He managed to catch a deer by the rocky shores of a river, and devoured it quickly, lamenting that there was no time to cook it properly and no loyal chef to marinate it in exactly the way he had come to prefer.
In the end, it was not a human that he found to speak to, but a bird. A raven fluttered to the ground and began to peck at the parts of the guts that the dragon found unsavoury, apparently completely unfazed by the size and huge teeth and claws of his dinner companion.
“Thanks for the offal,” said the raven. “It's very tasty.”
The dragon blinked his huge blue eyes. He hadn't expected the annoying little creature to talk. “You know these lands well. You fly great distances looking for food.”
“I do,” the raven nodded as he jerked his head to get a strip of intestine down his beak. “I am Croäc son of Roäc, and my people have been the eyes in the air in these lands for many, many years.”
“Maybe you can help me find my captain, then,” the dragon said hopefully, though his optimism was not great.
“Maybe I could. A captain? You mean, of a ship?”
“No. Of me. I imagine, I am a ship in a certain sense.”
The raven laughed, a weird throaty cawing sound. “That's something I never thought I'd hear a dragon say. Never heard of a dragon admitting to take orders from anyone.”
“I don't take orders,” the black dragon hissed, affronted. “Captain Laurence is my friend. We are a team. And I am very, very worried about him, so I'd appreciate it if you would tell me if you've seen him, without any unnecessary mocking.”
“What sort of a creature is he? Another dragon? I have to say, I only know of one of those around here, and it's hard to imagine anyone calling him a friend.”
“He's not a dragon,” said the dragon, wondering just how this bird could know so little of how these things worked. “He's a man. A very handsome and well-dressed one, if I say so myself, and I do, because I dressed him myself. Now, where would I be likely to find someone who might know where he is?”
“Well, all the handsome, well-dressed Men are pretty far from here, if you ask me,” said the raven. “You might have to go all the way to Gondor for that.”
“I'm looking for a specific one,” said the dragon, exasperated. The raven hopped away quickly at the expulsion of breath, and then seemed relieved at something that didn't happen. “And I have reason to believe he's come this way.”
“Well, there's nothing for it then,” said the raven. “I'll have my people keep an eye out for him – and keep an eye on you – but you know you can't possibly pass unnoticed. You'll most likely have to answer to him. The King Under the Mountain.”
“That doesn't frighten me at all, and I don't know why you'd think it would,” huffed the dragon. “My Laurence is a prince of a great empire, and we've had extensive dealings with royalty in our own lands. For the most part, it's possible to help them see reason by appealing to their own interests. I'm sure your King Under the Mountain is a rational man.”
“He's not my king,” said the raven with a little click of his beak. “I doubt I would call him rational, and he certainly isn't a Man.”
“What is he then?”
“About the same size as you, I'd say, though it's been a long time since he left his lair.” said the raven. “Can you breathe fire? When you approach the Lonely Mountain, you'll see a burnt city and miles of desolation. He did that.”
Yeah, this is totally going where you think it's probably going. Tonight, 3,000 words in, I finally got the breakthrough on how that happens!
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