The Tales Dragons Tell

[FennWenn]

A whirling, starry expanse spread over the world above, enveloping the world in an alien glow. Tall fir trees sparsely dotted the landscape, lit by moss patches that shone like metal. They twinkled to a lively tune tolled on silver bells. A throng of the strangest beings frisked and frolicked through the forest, bending swaying with the music. Some of them were macabre figures, all fur and horns, gnashing teeth and sharp eyes. A few were humanoid, but were simply too beautiful to be mistaken for human. Others held a mix of wildness and grace that would make any civilized being blush at their own inadequacy.

None of them seemed bothered by the cold. All were masked. All, but one.

In the center of it all sat a sharp-eared Fae with green eyes too big for his face, his freckles of frost twinkling in the unusual lights. Every passing being caused him to prick up his ears in curiosity, and each one passed by as if he wasn’t there. Fenn didn’t know where this place was or why he was here, but he liked it. For a great stretch of time, he simply sat quietly and drank it all in. Awe infused him, his jaw gaping just slightly open as his hungry eyes roved over the celebrations, his heart beating in time with the twinkling music.

He didn’t know how long he was ensnared by sights before he realized that one sight was ensnared by him.

In the midst of the roving beasts and beauties was a small girl with a dress sewn of animal hides and a china-doll pallor to her skin. Not moving, not speaking, perhaps not even breathing, but definitely staring at him. She too wore a false face, her features concealed by a mask fashioned out of the head of a downy grey wolf. All that poked out of it was a crescent-moon smile, sharp as a tooth. Her unwavering attention cut Fenn to the bone.

Once he began to stare back, her grin broadened to reveal jagged teeth. She wove through the masses of unusual beings and glided her way toward him. Her advance stopped short just a few feet in front of him. A frail hand was outstretched toward Fenn.

Her notice of him mystified the boy. He stared at the her offered hand a few heartbeats, before cautiously taking hold of her offered hand in his.

The girl’s silver eyes lit up from behind the mask with something eager and hungry. As soon as their skin made contact, she tugged at him with a strength greater than her waifish figure suggested. Speechless, Fenn allowed her to sweep him off of his feet. He was lifted off of his perch and spirited away into the crowd without so much as a word from either of them. The music seemed to pick up as they pranced through the snowdrifts, and the silver bells were joined by a weightless female wail and soft chanting. The wolf-masked girl led Fenn through an unfamiliar dance, one that smacked of ballroom courtesy and yet spun fast and fierce, full of twisting movements and rapid twirls.

Suddenly, the music slowed to a crawl, distorting in a way that Fenn didn’t know was even possible. This change in tempo seemed to demand that the space between the two was to be closed. A chill grey flush rose in the tips of Fenn's ears as the girl grabbed him around the shoulders and leaned in an inch from his face. She smelled of pine needles and tree sap. The boy’s discoloration quickly turned from a blush of surprise to one of discomfort as her grip tightened, and she held him in her arms for moments too long. There was a new hostility in the eyes behind the wolf mask.

“Funny that you should bare your face here. You are not one of us,” she whispered, her cold breath caressing his lips. His breathing slowed as he blinked back at her in shaken surprise. “You are defective, and you never will be.”

Her china-doll skin suddenly was spread with delicate cracks. The sparkling world shattered around Fenn like a damaged mirror, bits and pieces of breaking off and floating into the abyss of the sky. He could only watch on in muted horror. His fellow snow child’s unforgiving hands had a solid grip around his wrists. No matter how much he struggled or thrashed, she didn’t let go of him, and he screamed voiceless into the crashing abyss of the sky as he too brittled and broke apart like so much fine glass.

~~~

“Wuff.” A cold, snotty nose nuzzled Fenn's face. He winced and turned away from it, fending off the unwanted touch with a limp push. His eyes were squeezed shut. The faerie lights from his slumber still danced behind his closed eyelids. Why bother with the waking world right now? Not when he wanted to bring that dream back. Maybe to ask the girl what she meant, and what made her so angry with him. Maybe to just sock her upside the noggin with a clod of ice for rudely ending the dream.

Maybe for the chance to just dance like that again.

“Wuff!’ This time, a rough tongue slobbered over his cheeks and nose. Blergh! With an inward gasp, Fenn's eyes shot open, and he catapulted into a sitting position. He came face-to-face with a black-furred direwolf with a skeletal face looming over him. Her red eyes were wide with expectation, and her tail wagged cheerfully.

He couldn’t help but crack a smile and give her a pat on the head. In turn, Daugi let out a happy bark and licked his face again. Fenn giggled silent and wiped off the slime before it froze to his skin.Good morning to you too, fuzzball.

[FennWenn]

Fenn had woken up in a sheltered little cave, nestled snugly into the cliffside of a mountain with two peaks, hidden moreso from any unsavory beasts or beings that might roam these wilds than from the weather. Though, Fenn noted, they were far enough north and high enough for the wind itself to seem frozen. His direwolf buddy padding eagerly after him, he peered out of the cave and at the world around them. To look down at the snow-burdened forests below would make one dizzy. To look up at the rest of the mountain, tall enough to scrape the clouds and then some, would make one feel small.

Fenn needed no help feeling small.

An uncomfortable shiver wracked him, and he compulsively pulled out a thick map from his satchel and checked it once more, distracting himself with this slip of paper he practically knew by heart now. It was time to get back to treasure hunting.

There was no trail, no markings in the land to confirm for certain that Fenn was on the right path. His only way to estimate that he was on the right path was by the density of his yeti encounters. Around the silver dragon symbol were numerous smaller symbols of fuzzy humanoids which thinned out once one got near the top of the mountain. For whatever reason this dragon hoard was in yeti territory, Amari had helped him fight his way through the thick of it. What if the yetis had already looted the cavern?

A tired snarl twisted the little Fae’s lips. We didn’t come all this way for nothing, I hope. Fenn yawned and rubbed his eyes, staring blearily ahead into the snow. His back ached from sleeping on the gritty stone cave floor, and pins and needles prickled at his legs. Only two things kept him going at this point. The first was that someone had died for that map, so it damn well had better be worth all this trouble. The second was the promise of treasure and an insatiable curiosity that burned cold in his chest. If he didn’t see what was up with this dragon hoard, this bouncy little part of him was going to drive him off the deep end.

The sun’s light barely bled through the scraggly wisps of cloud that choked the sky. Even so, all this snow was blinding; White on white on white, Fenn mused to himself as he squinted and slogged through the thick powder. As soon as he got the sort of treasure he was looking for, he swore that he and Daugi would take a break from the endless north of Salvar and visit someplace they hadn’t explored yet. Maybe Alerar. Haven’t been there before.

Meanwhile, he knew with a sigh, they were stuck searching endlessly through this winter wonderland. It had been days. If it weren’t for Daugi’s hunting skills, he would have been out of food and forced to turn back by now.

Speaking of the direwolf, Daugi’s nose twitched at the air and her ears pricked up fearfully. A velvety growl thundered in her throat as she picked up a smell too faint for humans to perceive. From the sudden defensive stance she had taken and the snarl that contorted her face, the smell must have been a predator.

A dragon, maybe?

Fenn leaned against the big wolf’s fluffy side and comforted her with with a scratch between the ears. At the same time, her ears swiveled northward to listen in on the whisper of the winter winds. That way, and as he squinted ahead, he realized it wasn’t even that much farther “that way”. Right smack ahead was the mouth of a simply enormous cave. It towered over the two, and Fenn couldn’t help but widen his eyes and grin at it. There were a few silver dots speckled at the edge of the entrance. Misplaced coins. This had to be the right place; how fortuitous!

In contrast, Daugi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and she took a deep whiff of the frigid wind whistling out of the cavern. The fur on her back stood up in spiky hackles. And then, she opened her mouth.

For the life of her, that wold just could not stop yapping at the entrance. They were short, sharp warning barks that echoed loudly around the cliffs and made Fenn want to cover his ears. Instead, he placed a hand on his direwolf’s muzzle, hoping to prompt her to shut her trap and stop calling attention to them. At the touch of his hand, her barking turned into bothered, rumbling growls, and she gave him a sharp glower, as if reprimanding him for dismissing her concerns. He sighed and gave her a sympathetic look back, his hand making a few short hand gestures she knew by now; [/i]Sit. Stay. Stand guard.[i] Surliness came over the direwolf as she obeyed his command. Her bloodred eyes stared past his hands and stubbornly pierced the boy's gaze, sour about his imminent venture into a place where there was clearly danger. Silly. The only dangers here are the yetis.

Fenn gave her a small smile as he began clambering into the mouth of cave, trying not to furrow his brows in worry. As he receded into the half-darkness, Daugi whined mournfully after him. Hopefully she’d be more cheery when he came back with armfuls of abandoned dragon gold.

[FennWenn]

It’d be frustrating to admit that his dog was the one in the right, but something about this sterile grey corridor felt terribly wrong.

The boy sniffed the air as he plodded on, wrapping his cloak closer around himself for comfort. There was an odd reek from inside the caverns, a metallic smell that he hadn’t noticed until he got a few yards in, and he just couldn’t place it. If he had to make a guess, it was the lingering stench of the dragon who used to inhabit the mountains. No wonder Daugi was going nuts. The barest echo of her whimpers still traveled down the length of the cave, distressing to Fenn.

For a place that once housed a dragon, the entrance tapered down into something awfully small. The stone corridor leading up into the cave was speckled silvery and unnaturally smooth. The awestruck Fae frowned as he ran his hands along it, mystified by the shapings. Something had tried to fill in the entrance corridor to this cave, that much was evident, but they had missed just enough space to allow anything smaller than a tree inside. But why was it filled in? And how? Magic? This felt off to Fenn, and he couldn't pinpoint why. As he plodded deeper in, the odd reek of the place only grew stronger, and he only grew more uneasy.

It took a great deal of walking until the boy found his way into the main chamber of the cavern. There were no twists or turns in the corridor, no branching paths or other deviations from the icy smooth rock. Though he had no pebbles to step on or stalagmites to stub his toe on, Fenn had to stop a few times to nurse his achy feet. It made his frown down at his pale toes and wonder if maybe he was relying too much on Daugi to get around lately. This long path seemed to lead deep into the heart of the mountain. Too deep, maybe. Fenn thought through a sticky yawn.

And then, the monotony let up.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Not a metaphorical one; a real light, soft blue and a little too bright for his eyes, which were adjusted to the darkness at the moment. Fenn gasped in surprise when he first noticed the pinprick in the distance.

As he picked up the pace and started off galloping toward it, he had to shield his face from the brightness he was encroaching on. The tunnel came into an abrupt end at the source of the light. He stopped at the threshold of the main chamber, hastily rubbing his bleary eyes to adjust to the glow.

What he saw froze him to the spot. Fenn was left with his hands over his disbelieving mouth, which hung open almost as widely as his disbelieving eyes.

[FennWenn]

A yawning cavern stretched before him, the bottom liberally littered with a thin layer of precious metals and silvery treasures. Much of it was tarnished by age; the surfaces of many shiny things were worn and losing their luster. Translucent blue crystals dappled the craggy ceiling like stars. A pale winter moss crept over the area in fuzzy patches, a grassy field for the false sky. It seemed as if this place hadn't been disturbed for millennia. And people accuse me of hoarding! Fenn internally exclaimed, not knowing where to look next. Until, of course, he realized that he wasn’t alone in the cave.

Sitting in the middle of all the splendor as if it were no more than a cozy cushion was a behemoth of an Ice Wyrm.

Her glittering hide was as pale as ice and blended well into the rest of the cavern. She was all length and bony sinew, as if someone had taken a starving snake and bestowed it with four legs, six wings, and the breath of a blizzard. Slender horns crowned her head, thin and delicate. Silver chains were draped around her neck like pearl necklaces. An amethyst pendant of immense size hung off one of the chains.

It took Fenn a moment to get over the shock of seeing such a beast curled up in this chamber like a scrawny housecat, moss licking her sides. He had to rub his eyes and stare again, making sure that his eyes weren’t telling him tall tales. A nervous smile came unbidden to his lips.

No-one said anything about there still being a damn dragon in here.

Conflict writhed within the Fae’s mind. Fenn paced the short length of the threshold, glancing between the exit and the treasures within. On one hand, the practical and world-weary side of him was kicking and screaming, demanding that he march right back through the corridor and away from this mountain as quick as he could. Fuck the treasure, fuck the dragon, he was in no mood to die today. On the other hand, his twitchy inner thief wanted to rush in and pour through every glitter on the floor of that cavern, to run his hands through the silver and take it all with him.

The relentless glint of countless treasures was upon him. Naturally, the thief won.

As he crept further into her room, his ears swiveled to better listen to the rumbling of her snores vibrating around the chamber. It was a chore to tiptoe his way around mounds of shinies, trying not to step on anything that would clatter as he surveyed everything he passed by.

Trying to list the contents of this place would take ages. Fenn spied rings, gauntlets, weapons of all types imaginable, crowns and headdresses, silverware, aged coins… his head spun from trying to take it in, a delicious deliriousness at his newfound riches giving a spring to his step and a goofy grin. This dragoness seemed to have an affinity for silvery things. One of the first things he noticed about the place was that it was devoid of any metal that didn’t shine like a fallen star underneath the tarnish. If there was any gold to be found here, it was only white gold. He outright avoided any swords or spears that were laying about. Out of all of the jewel-encrusted baubles in here, Fenn figured that the weapons were the most likely to contain iron.

What would he ever do with all this gleaming gilded reservoir of riches? Certainly, he couldn’t carry it all off on his own. Frowning, he stopped in front of a giant font spilling over with necklaces. There was only a limited amount of stuff that could be stuffed into his satchel. It couldn’t be heavy stuff either, as the bag was already laden with Fenn's personal stash of precious junk and memorabilia.

Just the thought of discarding his own hoard to make off with dragon treasure made him squirm uncomfortably and preemptively shake his head. As much as he wanted this shiny stuff, he would have to be conservative in what he took. That was going to be hard. There was so much to choose from.

Maybe I can return again another day and grab more, he thought, rubbing his chin. A rumbling snort interrupted his careful planning, causing Fenn's heart to jump into his chest. The boy flinched, and the entire chamber rattled as the dragon turned over in her sleep. His hair stood on end as he glared back at the great beast. Though she still seemed to sleep, Fenn's jitters went through the roof. Best be moving quickly, then.

He glanced about, his movements fluttery with anxiousness. The nearest pile of shiny was a low pile of dinnerware. Blindly, Fenn reached for a slightly-greenish goblet encrusted with pale sapphires. As soon as his his hand touched the surface though, he lurched back, grabbing at his suddenly-seared palm with a furious grimace.

WHO THE FUCK MAKES AN IRON FUCKING CUP THAT ORNATE?

As he hopped back, vehement curses tearing through his thoughts, some sort of heavy cord draped over the floor tripped him up. Falling ass-first into a pile of pearl necklaces and silver coins, the Fae gasped and gripped his burned hand, inspecting it ruefully. Thankfully he hadn’t been touching the cup very long. His burns were but a tender pink, rather than charcoal-black. Fenn glowered down at whatever he had tripped over. It was a thick coil of something decorated with a delicate pattern of white scales. And it was moving, sliding away from him and through the treasures around. Sudden realization gave way to a fear squeezing at his chest. Oh no.

A cold breeze washed over him, tinged with the taste of blood and raw meat. The boy paled as he rose to his feet. He was afraid to look back; the snores had stopped, and the cavern was silent. It felt as if even the whispers of the winter wind were holding their breath in anxious anticipation. He couldn’t stand the tension any longer. Fenn swallowed dryly and spun on his heels to face what his greed had wrought.

Eyes of diluted lavender speckled with darker purple blinked down at him, the coal-black slits that passed for pupils narrowed in surprise. The dragon was awake.

A soft voice slithered from her mouth, slippery and feminine as her gaze bored into the Fae. “What have we here? A little mouse scrounging for scraps through the riches of Nippariess?” she said airily, blowing a thin mist of ice vapor over him. Fenn choked on it and took a few steps back, giving her a pleading smile in return.

She rattled her horns together, opening her mouth in a way that resembled a toothy grin. Resembled. “It has been eons since my visitor. How tasteful of one to wander right into my claws.”

[FennWenn]

Fenn was nopenopenope-ing his way out of there. If her bloodstained teeth didn't scare him, that comment on being “tasteful” certainly did. His feet slapped against the mossy stones as he tore off towards the exit of the chamber, trying not to trip over any of the hoard underfoot. Really, what had he thinking, listening to his inner thief? That was the part of him that had gotten him into this whole thing with the map in the first place.

“Oh, don’t scurry off,” Nippariess said, almost sweetly. Two immense claws cupped over the retreating faerie, smothering Fenn momentarily in darkness and cutting off his escape. “I just need to have a little chat with you, mouse.”

The boy stamped his foot in frustration and swung around, searching for an exit. There was a crack of light between two of her fingers. Yes! Fenn leapt up in delight and dashed for it, squeezing out of her claws with ease. The dragon stared at his bobbling figure as he took off again, her tail flicking back and forth in muted disappointment and her gaze narrowed. “You are really quite dreadful at listening, aren't you?”

She was actually even faster than Fenn had anticipated. His mad dash had barely gone ten more meters before she flicked her spindly pinky and pinned him to the ground by his arm.

The tip of her nail pierced his flesh effortlessly, and Fenn actually squeaked as it tore through his skin and tendons. He grabbed his arm and bit down on his tongue as the dragon snaked her head toward him. Her breath wafted over him, reeking of frozen meat and cold sulfur.

“You bleed the black of a winter night,” she observed smoothly, studying his squirming as one might watch a dying bug. The forks of her storm-grey tongue poked out from between ivory teeth, flicking against his face and tortuously tasting the blood that trickled from his arm. It made him shudder and still himself, staring up at her in horror. “Sour as an unripe fruit. You’re dreadfully humanoid for one of the Fair Folk. A young one, I suppose.” He gasped and sat up with a strained expression as she lifted her claw from him. Her eyes were bright with intrigue. “Try not to bleed out on me, as this is the most interesting thing to happen to me for - well, centuries at the very least.”

The dragoness didn't once lift her attentive gaze from him as he inspected the damage she had done. His arm hurt like hell. No shit. She put a nice-sized hole in it. With cautious movements, he stuck his left arm into his bag - thank goodness it was his dominant hand - and pulled out a strip of purple fabric. He wrapped it around the wound and fumbled to tie it up single-handedly.

As soon as Fenn was finished, the dragon moved to scoop him up again. She shifted her grip to pinch the back of his cloak and lift him into the air, her claw tips further shredding the already rather-tattered fabric.

It was not a comfortable position for the Fae. Fenn cradled his wrapped arm and glared sullenly at her, suddenly not sure whether it would be more fitting to cower or complain.

“Good. Now that you won't stain my floor any more than you already have, let us have a proper chat about your invasion of my abode.” Fenn sighed and looked down at the floor. He was coming to the realization that Nippariess was a very chatty dragon. She was also surprisingly articulate. There was a thick lilt to the way she spoke that smacked of some long-forgotten Salvarian dialect. If Fenn were to put it bluntly, she sounded ancient. “I do not have to eye you very long to determine that you are no more than a petty thief. I was worried that you were a servant of the Winter Court, but what would they want with me? Hrmm?”

Dangling from her claws as he was, all Fenn could manage was to shake his head and shrug awkwardly. He wondered if by the “Winter Court”, the dragon meant that there were other Frost Fae around these parts. It was disconcerting for him to be teased with what might have been had he actually been raised as faerie.

The tip of her tongue flicked from her lips and stopped just inches short of the Fae, startling him out of his thoughts. She gave a throaty chuckle as he flinched and threw his arms over his head. “It might be well and good for you to know that I don't get food very often in here. Give me a good reason not to eat you, little mouse,” she purred. “Besides how small you might be - I already know you shall be but a breadcrumb to me. And don’t bother to prattle on about how terrible you taste either. Goodness, you don’t know how often I have heard that excuse.”

Cowering was starting to sound like the better option now. He gave her a wavering smile and covered it immediately with his hands, finding no more pleasing way to answer her.

Nippariess seemed unsatisfied with this meekness. Her horns drew back as the frill of a lizard might, and she turned to face the other side of the chamber with an irked “hmph”. Fenn went along with her, sputtering when his cloak collar bit into his neck as he was swung around. Without a warning, he was dropped onto a high shelf of rock jutting out of the wall. To him, it was a vast stage, terrifyingly high above the ground. To her, it was a bedside table.

“Perhaps you can better find your voice on solid ground,” Nippariess reasoned as Fenn rubbed his sore throat with contempt. He peered off the edge and frowned at the sheer wall of rock. There was no quick way of scaling it. “At least tell me your name, Fair One.”

This was more manageable. Fenn bit his lip and prayed that she understood the modern Salvarian alphabet. Or how to read at all, actually. Though she seemed an educated dragon - as educated as a dragon can be - it would be just his luck. He held up a hand pleadingly at her, and leaned down to press his palm to the stone. Frost swirled forth from his touch. The dragon leaned forward in curiosity and breathed on him as he worked to write in it.

FENNIK BUT CALL ME FENN.

Nip stared at his writings one unblinking moment. A sudden roar of laughter escaped her, startling Fenn into skittering back a few yards.

“What a funny thing to call yourself. Feeeeenn. Fenniiiiik. Fenn,” she rumbled, rolling his name around in her mouth a few times as she reread his etchings. “Well, that's an unusual way of telling me. Is that chicken scratch really how letters look these days?”

He shrugged and gave her a narrow look.

“Well. You have awful handwriting. Obviously, you are no scribe. Nonetheless, I want you to write me a little more for me. You are to give me an explanation as to why you are here. How did you find me, and who else knows of my location?”

DUNNO, he wrote wearily. THERE WAS THIS GUY WHO HAD A MAP AND I TOOK IT FROM HIM AND FOLLOWED IT. DID NOT KNOW THERE WAS STILL A DRAGON IN HERE.

“This is… surprisingly straightforward for Fae,” Nip said, seeming a bit bewildered. Clearing her throat and tossing her head as if to shake off her confusion, she changed the subject. “Obviously, there must be repercussions for your audacity in trying to steal from me. Perhaps I shall forgo the punishment, if you can manage to keep me entertained, hrmm? Can you sing? Can you dance, or juggle? Can you perform such impressive sleight-of-hand as to wow me into releasing you without consequence?” He shook his head in reply and hunkered down, making himself a little smaller. She bared her fangs back at him with a smidge too much joy. “Then what good are you?” His icy silence permeated the air. “Still not speaking? Don't tell me. Not only are you talentless, you are mute.”

A cold grey flush colored Fenn's cheeks, and he glowered obstinately back. Did belittling him make her feel bigger? Flipping off a dragon was probably a suicidal move so he swallowed what little pride he possessed and resisted the urge. Another idea came to mind, a more productive one, one that might help to convince her that he was interesting enough to leave alive.

Fenn stood up and flashed the dragon a worried smile, catching her attention with a snap of his fingers; he so often forgot he actually had this kind of magic at his fingertips. Suddenly, his physical form shimmered and vanished in a whirl of glowing snowflakes. Once the snow cleared up, Fenn had seemed to have vanished, and in his place stood a very small version of Nippariess. It was no bigger than a horse, but it was unmistakably her. The little imitation bared it’s teeth and assumed a fierce pose with its claws and fangs at the ready.

That was talented, right?

There was no actual transformation at play here; the dragonish appearance was merely an intangible illusion surrounding the boy. Unfortunately, Nippariess already understood this, and she wasn’t as impressed as he had hoped.

“A miniature of myself? Clever, but I have seen better imitations out of your folk before. How uninspiring.” Billows of blizzardly fog fell forth from the dragons scaly lips. Just the barest lick of vapor pressing up against the delicate illusion tore through it like a hand shredding wet cardboard.

She has worse breath than Daugi, Fenn observed, his button nose scrunched in distaste as the illusion blew apart in a burst of disturbed snowflakes. He slumped a little, worry furrowing his brow. Now what?

It seemed that Nip had that answer worked for him. “That leaves listening, then,” the dragon rambled to herself, uncoiling her sinuous lengths and arching her back like a cat. A mild yawn from her sent a wash of cold air over Fenn. He gagged on the meaty smell of it. “If you cannot talk, then you at least have ears. It'd be nice to have a lended ear that wasn't mouthy for once. The yetifolk do so complain, though at least they are company. Do you know anything about boredom and loneliness, my mouse?” she asked him intently.

It wasn't a hard question. Wandering all on his own for long periods of time had its downsides. He nodded up at her. The boy plunked himself down at the edge of the rock shelf, twisting the folds of his cloak anxiously between one of his hands, his chin resting on the other.

She bared her teeth in another not-quite-a-grin. “Good. Then you’ll understand my plight if I tell it to you. If you want to remain undigested, I would recommend you stop glancing about like a startled deer and keep those pointy ears at the ready.”

[FennWenn]

The dragon’s silky voice whispered over Fenn as he closed his eyes, a gale of information whistling through his ears. Stories were their own kind of treasure. Who was he to spurn them if they were given freely?

”Once upon a time, there was a gleaming silver dragon of the north, who hailed from an age before those wiggly flesh blots that called themselves “humans” or “elves”, or any of the other lesser races even crawled out of the earth. The North was her domain. She was Nippariess the Hunter, and she was I. I laid claim to a great part of the frozen wastes, which included not only the land but those who crawled upon it as well. Eventually, that included the humans as well. With impudence, I took from them. Their land was mine to roam, their beasts and metal treasures were mine to devour, and they knew well to sate me with wholesome praise as I passed through their pitiful settlements.

It was rather nice, I’ll have you know. Being worshipped.

There’s very little work to it and people are willing to give you all sorts of offerings in order to make you leave them alone. The Salvarians under my shadow used to give me grand titles. Icing Death, the Northern Reaper, the Silver Goddess. They feared me, much as you must fear me now. Furthermore, mouse, they revered me.”

There was dubiousness in the tilt of Fenn's mouth. How much of her ramblings were her delusions of own fancy and how much rang true was hard for him to say.

“And if they didn't revere me, the solution was simple.” Nip’s neck snaked forward. until she was but a few yards away from the now wide-eyed Fae, baring her bright teeth once more for him to admire and tremble before. “I devoured them. Human tastes quite like wild swine. Orcs are meatier, and a little more chewy. You snowy Fae are, as I said before, a unique sort of sour. Fascinating, yes?” Fenn only shuddered and placed a queasy hand over his mouth. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Of course, this was all was a great many years before you were even born, an amount of time so vast that just a taste of that eternity would make your head spin, little mouse. It was before I got cocky and declared myself a living god in front of several peons of those irritating, scale-crawling Sway. Dreadful they were, all ‘purity this, morality that’. They nor their followers had no sense of fun. It was easy to underestimate the power those nitwits held.”

Molten contempt dropped from her words. Fenn sensed a change in her demeanor and wisely held still, waiting for her ill-temper to pass. Her expression crumpled inward, her eyes dripping with lavender anger as she drummed an idle hand on the rock shelf.

“The Sway deemed it fit to end my reign by sealing me deep into my mountainside. Not personally, which stung; it took quite a few of their followers to do the deed. They rather did despise having competition. If the yetis didn't bring me sacrifices and relics from the outside world each year, I would have starved and bored myself to death by now. Yeti folk are idiots. But, I must give them some credit for their loyalty. Were I try to push my way out I would be crushed by the rock, and my claws are not suited for digging. Here I lay now, trapped among my own hoard, doomed to die bored, and forgotten, and alone.”

A doe-eyed look crept upon Fenn at the last part. As awful as this dragon was being to him, he could imagine her frustration at being pent up and going mad in the same place for centuries, having once almost been made a slave himself. He reached out to pat the tip of her claw consolingly.

The warm gesture seemed to surprise the dragoness. Her horns rattled together and she yanked her claws back with a thunderous hiss, causing Fenn to wince and clap his hands over his ears. “Don't feel sorry for me, wretch. I need not the pity of any creature I could swallow in one lick.” Still, she tilted her head curiously at him. “Here, you are the pitiful little mouse. No-one really notices the mice underfoot, do they?”

The Fae shook his head with an uneasy scowl. So much for sympathy winning out.

“Ahh, and even you agree. There was something I did not mention when I first met you. When I tasted your blood, it was faerie sour, but you tasted of other things as well. Of humans and trees, of animal and wind. Not that wishy-washy draft that flutters in every so often, but the sort of winds that used to support my wings.” All six of the membranous limbs fixed to her back stretched and flittered weakly at the air. “You tasted different than the other Ice Children I have met. You taste like freedom.”

Discomfort built up in Fenn's chest; where was this going? His skeptical ears flattened back against the sides of his skull.

“I can see that you don’t quite understand,” the dragoness declared, the levity returning to her voice. “I believe I have a proposition for you. If you do exactly as I say, without making a big fuss or a run for it, I may allow you to leave here ungobbled. Agreed?” Leaving ungobbled sounded good to him! Immediately, Fenn jumped to his feet, bouncing eagerly on his heels. Snorting meaty-cold air in his face, the dragon scooped him up in her claws and set him back on the floor of the chamber, onto a bed of assorted coins and musty moss. “Pfft. No need to be so excited about it; you may not be so enthusiastic for long. See that chest over there? The one of elm wood. Open it and pick out a pair of earrings, any pair, it matters little which one.” Something steely glinted in the slits of her eyes. “They all have the same enchantment.”

[FennWenn]

Suddenly, the Fae had his reservations about delving into this treasure. Her mention of an enchantment was worrisome by itself. He glanced over at the chest she had pointed out, biting his lip as he considered its ice-flecked lock. There was something coy to the dragon’s demeanor, and he knew there had to be a catch to this sudden generosity. But, at the same time, Nippariess was watching him closely and he knew what might come of protesting. One snap of her jaws and a swallow.

Fenn slunk over to the chest and inspected the lock. It was positively ancient, stained green with age. A peer inside was enough to tell him that the tumblers were rusted into position. This would take brute force, which wasn’t something the kid had a lot of. The boy clapped his palms together, causing a burst of snowflakes to form in the air around them. A solid chunk of ice grew between his hands. Once it was roughly the size of his fist he took the shard and slammed it into the lock. The shattering was a bit more explosive than he expected; the ice smashed into many shards - luckily none of them flew into his face - and the lock clattered to the ground, busted completely open.

“That’s one way to do it,” the dragon behind him commented bitingly. “I would rather have had you spare my property the damage.” With his back to her, Fenn rolled his eyes and hefted the lid of the chest open.

Dozens of pairs of earrings laid at the bottom of the box. The sight stirred his greed, and Fenn couldn't help but marvel at them, even as he understood that they were probably bad news for him. There was a veritable rainbow of jewels to choose from; amethyst, diamond, sapphire, topaz, and ruby, among others he couldn't identify. He sifted through them with a shaking hand, eventually plucking out a vain gold pair set with dangling emeralds. They matched his eyes, at least, and Mari’s locket nestled under his cloak. Might as well make the most of this.

“Fix them to your spiky little ears,” Nip commanded sonorously, watching as he closed the chest and stood hesitant to do anything with his chosen pair. “And don't keep me waiting. Impatience makes me hungry.”

Fenn gritted his teeth and glared up at her. Still, he clipped on the earrings. The enchantment upon them made his ears uncomfortably warm.

“Good boy,” she cooed, hooking a claw on the chain around her neck. The gigantic amethyst pendant fixed to it gleaned. “See this? Along with your earrings, it is a relic of a time in your past in which I decided to keep human vassals. As they were much more prone to uprisings than the yetis, I liked to keep my favorites on a leash.” The amethyst swung back and forth in a mildly hypnotic fashion. Something shifted in her voice, as if she were no longer speaking aloud. <A very short one. If I choose to, I can see from your eyes when you wear these jewels, and hear from your ears, and smell from your nose. Oh, and I can speak directly to you from them. Aren’t they lovely?>

A spy? Fenn jolted, his hands hovering just under his earrings, now itching to take them off. He tugged tentatively at one of them. Nippariess laughed at his reaction. <It might be prudent to mention that the enchantment on them is as volatile as it is old. They may explode if you take them off.>

Stricken, the little Fae’s shivery hands shot up to defensively cover his ears.

<That’s what I thought,> Nip said. The smug curl to her reptilian maw was almost a smile. <I’m glad you happened along, little frost speck. A gaze into the outer world might be just the thing I need to liven up my dull life… and who knows? You might even be able to help me craft my escape. From now on, I will be your master and your god. You belong to me, as much as these twinkles of metal do.>

Fenn curled his lip up at her and bared his teeth, the air around him seething with resentful snowflakes. He kicked aside several pieces of treasure and strode up to her. His spindly hands were flailing in unspoken protest. No longer was he thinking about being swallowed by her. Now, his mind was bubbling with worried about his life being swallowed by this irritating, formal, dragon in his head all the time. Nip stared him down cooly. She didn’t seem very concerned by his reaction.

<No need to be so abrasive,> she said haughtily. <Did you not come here in anticipation of shiny baubles? These are your baubles. You are lucky to receive even that much. By the way, you can speak back to me now as well.>

His words came back harsh and fast, in a voice some years older than his appearance would suggest. <I don’t take well to suddenly slavery.> Little fists clenched tightly together, his nails digging into his palms. <Last time someone tried to do that, I found an escape.>

<Perhaps I shouldn’t have told you that. I like you far better without the lip. Well, we can talk it over for as long as you need to until you come to terms with your new purpose in life,> the dragon said with a dismissive flick of her tail, her scales glittering coldly as she turned in place.

Frost spread up Fenn’s sleeves as he glowered down at her feet. Not directly challenging her, but definitely getting his complaints across. <I’m fine wandering along without a purpose or master to tell me what to do, and I don’t want to have your voice in my head all the time.>

She snorted, sending a cloud of cold air across the cavern. <You shall warm up to the idea eventually. Won’t you give me a moment? As much fun as it is to toy with you, I have just woken up from a very long nap and am in dire need of something to fill my ill-soothed stomach.> Her tail slid past him and curled around a large pile of silver items. It brushed up inches away from Fenn as she reeled the handful back in toward her mouth. Several of the most expensive things Fenn had ever seen were just gone, swallowed up by that massive maw as if they were no more than a handful of ripe berries.

Horror struck Fenn as he watched her swallow the treasure. <But, but. So shiny. What,> he babbled incoherently to her, clasping his hands to the side of his head.

<What, did you think I collected all this for the hilarity of it? I have scales to keep healthy. I can hardly fathom what you small scaleless worms use these metals for; chain armor fakes the appearance of having scales, I suppose,> the dragon mused to herself, ignoring his quiet freak-out over the loss of the shinier and the inevitable fate of all the glitters of the hoard. <Too bad for you. My earrings are more than enough for your thirsty fingers. And the next time you consider taking from me, reconsider your course of action.> He bowed under the weight of her cold stare, fighting against feelings of sheepishness. <I will not be so forgiving again. If we have no more to discuss, then you are dismissed.>

<No.>

<No?>

Fenn took a deep breath and steeled himself against the intimidating dragon. <How can I be sure you aren't lying about the earring exploding?>

<You can't,> she acknowledged with a yawn. <Unless you so chose to take them off in a brilliant streak of idiocy and blow yourself up. Now leave my presence and go show me the outside world. Your attitude is beginning to bore me.>

As she settled down in her nest of treasure again, coiling up like a snake, Fenn considered his new earrings with a certain spitefulness, twisting the jewels between his fingers again and again. Was Nip to be believed, when she had already shown herself to have a dramatic flair? Or was “explode” an exaggeration of some sort? He already got himself into this mess by way of stupid audacity. I’m fucked either way, so I might as well take the risk.

<What are you doing?> Nippariess chided, one eye cracked open as he swiftly unsnapped one earring from the left side of his head. She let out a great hiss and drew back. Fenn flinched at her reaction and dropped the earring, fearing that he had taken the wrong gamble. <For the sake of my scales, get yourself killed outside of my chambers!>

Pure silence expanded within the chamber for a moment, far more explosive than any sound could be.

Both let out a bated breath. <That is strange,> Nip mused, snaking her head back and keeping a wary distance from the earring. <I suppose this pair must be more stable than the oth->

It suddenly began to buzz in Fenn's hand, the emerald quivering violently and letting off bright flashes of violet light. Both boy and dragon gasped in surprise. The little Fae fumbled to kick the thing away from him and take off, but didn't quite make it in time.

Fsssss, Kra-KOOOOOOOOOM!

[FennWenn]

The next thing Fenn knew, he found himself smashed up against one of the rough walls of the cavern, his body aching all over. If he learned that he had broken a few bones in the explosion, he wouldn’t have been surprised. There was just too much ow all over to pinpoint any particular places though. His skull, he thought dryly. Blood oozed from the back of his head like a sticky sap - he reached back to touch it, his hands coming away covered in black sludge. His head throbbed all over. An incessant static buzz blared in his ears as well, blocking out most other noises. It seemed that the deafening force of the explosion had temporarily fucked with his hearing.

There was a melted puddle of metals a little ways away that were already cracking and freezing up again in the bitter cold. It was a very good thing that Fenn himself had not been the center of the explosive. Else, that puddle might have been his boiled bone and blood.

A mistake had been made with that hasty tantrum, he concluded.

Just as he tried to get up, Fenn was was forced back against the wall by a sulfurous, rotting breath of wind. Nippariess’ furious visage descended from above, fading into the boy’s black-tinged vision like a vengeful spirit. Fenn rubbed his head, staring up at her with a dazed fear and rubbing his head. His hand slip down to finger the lone earring still dangling from his right lobe. Venom dripped from the dagger-sharp glower he gave back.

Nippariess’ mental voice cut through the ambient noise in Fenn’s head. It seemed that one earring was good enough to allow communication. <How dare you attack me with your stupidity,> she boomed at him. <It is impossible to understand you, mouse. You come into my house, attempt to pilfer from my trove, and when I offer you a mercy you instead throw it back in my face. I have no idea how to deal with your impudence besides with death when you do not even follow the rules of your own kind.>

<My “kind” has rules?> The question burst out of his spinning thoughts and into hers without him meaning to ask.

<None that you know, so it seems.> The room dropped a few degrees - which was saying something for a place this far north - as the dragon opened her jaw. Thick waves of fog rolled out from behind her pale gullet and drifted past her teeth. An accompanying sloshing sound echoed from the back of her throat; Fenn was no expert on dragons, but that was probably her breath weapon. <And none that you will ever learn. Perish, little rat.>

Yeah, no. He was about done taking orders today.

<Bye!> Fenn chirped back. With one hand, the second earring was torn haphazardly out of his ear and cast into the rows of gleaming, spindly teeth. It caught in her gums. And good riddance!

The noises choked in Nip’s throat as she realized just what he had flung at her. She shook her head viciously, but still the earring clung to her. Desperation filled her roars and screeches cut through Fenn’s ear-static as she flailed about. Her massive body tore through the treasure in her violent throes, scattering artifacts and shaking the walls of the room wildly. One of her massive, spindly coils looped around behind Fenn, almost crushing him as he made a break for the entrance. He glanced back at the sea of rippling scales as he fled. In a sense, Fenn wanted to say “sorry” for throwing a ticking timebomb in her mouth, but there were two reasons not to. One being that he could no longer speak directly two her. The other was that she had been kind of an asshole to him.

The survivalist half of Fenn may have been the one in charge right now, but his inner thief wasn't entirely aslumber. As he dashed away, he bent down once to scoop up a pile of treasure with one hand, but this he did only once. Reaching the mouth of the unnatural corridor out of the cavern felt deserving of a victory dance. He knew better than to stop, though.

As Fenn’s feet slapped against the smooth floor of the corridor, he realized that his hearing was clearing up. A second explosion had sounded, followed by anguished screaming and a familiar sloshing sound. You are as bad at dying as I am, Fenn observed as he glanced at the cavern behind him. Nip’s mangled and bloody mouth was all he could see at that end of the corridor, spewing white smog. Either she wasn't mortally wounded, or she was very determined in her final moments.

The glittering ice fog that rapidly filled up the cave entrance was very good at persuading him to keep running headlong without slackening his pace. Every surface the fog touched sprouted thick spikes of ice. Being a friend of frost did not mean Fenn could survive being impaled on an ice crystal or trapped like a bug in amber. Light ahead! His lungs burned.

Fenn squinted as he stared into the sunlight ahead and closed his eyes. The echo of his footfalls faded into a gentle crunching of snow, and he tripped to a stop just outside the entrancing, gasping for air.

Now that's what I call a real adventure, he thought, bright-eyed as he wiped a dribble of blood from his forehead. What a mess he was in! Maybe I can come back later. If I need a challenge, if I'm stronger. Maybe with backup next time. Not any time soon, though. His glow green gaze fell past his shoulder, at the entrance of the cave. Spikes of cruel ice curled outwards. Not very inviting. It had missed him by just a few feet. Would the yeti try and dig her out?

Fenn glanced at the fistful of treasure. All he got for his trouble was a plain silver fork and a pair of shiny rings. They’d sell well on the market, but they weren't anything special. Dammit.

“WUFF WUFF.”

Fenn jumped at the stern barking behind him, looking back at the direwolf breathing down his neck; he swore that one sounded like she was cussing him out. How long had the thick-furred direwolf sat patiently, awaiting his return? It was long enough for her ears to droop in worry and her eyes to scrunch up. She was peeved. A look of disgust curled Daugi’s lip as she sniffed him, and she leaned away from Fenn with a crinkle of her nose. I must smell like Nip from hanging around her so long. Ew. Closing his eyes warily he flopped over into the deep of the snow, hoping that some time submerged in the fluffy powder would be enough to dispel the dragon reek. Laying down felt so good. The snow felt good on his wounds; that explosion made him feel like he was sunburned all over.

Daugi flopped down next to him in the snow and licked at a bleeding gash on his nose. He grinned and gave her a fumbling, blind pat on the muzzle, his eyes half-closed. He just needed some time to recover from this.

[FennWenn]

The black-furred wolf breathed heavily with each step away from the danger-laced dragon lair. Daugi had considered the tiny boy that was her self-designated pup with heavy eyes as she pulled him along by the collar of his cloak. He was light, so light, and the oily blood from his wounds streaked the snow black as they passed. Her boy needed to leave this terrible place immediately, before he wandered stupidly into any other crevices he didn’t belong. Foul smells hung around this mountain. Dragon-sulfur, yeti-stank, and the blood of slain creatures.

Another smell hung in the air, one similar to that of her adoptive boy-pup. And yet, it was sharper. More dangerous.

“She carries him like a mother cat would her kitten,” someone unseen observed with a coy sigh. “By the scruff and away from danger.” Just a few cliffs above the two, stood a girl with china skin and a wolf’s mask for a face, the winter gales tugging insistently at her fur dress. A hunched and and hairy white being sat next to her. The Winter Regent, and her snow golem. Neither one of them moved as Daugi passed by with Fenn in tow. In his slumber, the aberration boy could not notice their presence presence, and thankfully neither did the keen-nosed wolf who took care of him as he slept. The Regent looking down on them with unwavering attention.

“Is it leaving?” Her servant spoke up. His thorny teeth poked out of thin lips, gnashing fearfully at the air.

“Yes, Knarl. It is leaving,” she muttered back. Her hands curled into claws around the wooden base of her spear, threatening to splinter it. “But it never should have been here in the first place. I stole a chance to walk its dreams as it slept, and I understood that much. It must have been cast out at some point; it does not speak.”

“I don’t like the look of its aura.” Knarl squinted down at the passing boy with his beady black eyes. “Too wild for an outsider, too uncontained, no control. Bad magic, bad luck. What do we do if it comes back?”

“We’ll deal with it then,” she said with finality. “If it returns, take it to me.”

“Yes, my Regina.”

[Rayleigh]

Thread: The Tales Dragons Tell
Author: FennWenn
Type: No Judgment

Congratulations!

Fenn receives 1,800 EXP and 210 GP.