Olwe keeps his eyes fixed on the dragon, watches Dometis warily as he walks up to the dragon. Close up he can see the creature is in pain. "I think you are right, my lady, he is hurt."
Slowly Olwe kneels in the sand, reaches out, fingers outstretched to touch a dragon. Dometis flinches as the elf comes close and gently touches him. Dometis gently presses back at the touch. Nole is amazed at what he is watching. A great beast and his king reaching out to each other.He has seen lots of things on his voyages, but nothing like this. Gently the Lord of Alqualonde brushes his palm across the muzzle of the dragon before him. His blue eyes are wide with wonder, and his brow creases as he turns his gaze to the eyes of Dometis. "Know you were you are?" he asks softly.Apakenwe watches curiously. From the stories she has heard of dragons, this is not at all how she expected one to act. Dometis stares as the Elvish prince rubs his maw, amazed at the Lords bravery. "I haven't the faintest, Lord Olwe," he answers.
Nole is glad this beast is friendly. He expects this dragon could easily destroy the entire city and everyone in it. Why would he come to Alqualonde, a largely empty city, than anywhere else? Where is the dragon's kin? Olwe raises his gaze to glance up at Apakenwe's face, his eyes searching hers to see her reaction. His hand absently strokes the long ridged snout of the dragon. Apakenwe returns Olwe's gaze, her eyes wide with her own questions. Olwe takes a deep breath and turns back to Dometis. "You are in the Swanhaven, the home of the Teleri elves. You are in Alqualonde." Carefully he watches the dragon, waiting to see if the information sparks a reaction. His eyes lift only long enough to take in the massive size of the dragon before him.
Apakenwe runs her non-physical perception down the surface of the dragon, but there is very little she can perceive without forbidden prying. Dometis's eyes drift to a close as he searches his vast memory for those names. He tries desperately, but to no avail. His eyes reopen as he answers, "I am sorry, Lord Olwe. At this point in time I have no recollection of either of those names, but thank you informing me of my whereabouts" He looks up, gently nuzzling the hand that is stroking his muzzle.
Olwe nods absently, for there is nothing in the tone of the voice, the shift of the eyes that would indicate the dragon spoke aught by the truth. "How came you here? From whence came you?" He leans back a little the heel of a boot. "I think that your landing is not one most of your kind would seek."
 |
| Nolë |
Dometis chuckles, then winces in pain. "Aye, that landing was not one to be proud of. I cannot tell you from whence i came as I myself do not know the names. However, I have been travelling for days on end, in search for allies. I have flown many leagues for many moons."
 |
| Apakenwë |
"By all means, Lady elf. May I know of thy name?"
"My name is Apakenwe. I fear I am no trained healer, but I will see what I can do."
Olwe looks up at Apakenwe's question, his eyes watching her face carefully, even while his hand remains upon Dometis' muzzle. He looks back at Dometis, the sounds of the swans and seabirds, still shrilling their protests high overhead, rise and fall with the rolling sound of the waves against the shore. He waits for Apakenwe to answer the dragon and then asks, "How came you to be injured?"
"Thank you, Apakenwe. Any help, great or minor, is most welcome."
Olwe turns and waves for Nole to step nearer, now that the dragon seems to be of little present danger. Nole walks up beside his king, and stands beside him. He is still uneasy but his king's actions have called him. He asks, "How did you discover Alqualonde? Were you en route somewhere and happen to find us?"
"Ah that is a lengthy tale, Lord: however, to be brief, I blacked out from exhaustion, only to awaken but a foot above the canopy of the forest. I crashed into the trees, never a good thing for any species. I also believe the landing in the harbour didn't help a great deal."
Olwe glances up at Nole and catches his eye. Olwe's gaze reflects the incredulity at the thought of any creation falling asleep in flight. His face grows contemplative as he looks back over at Dometis, a thousand questions in his mind, but for now, he must ponder how extensive were the injuries of the being before him. He looks over at Apakenwe's kneeling form. What drove this dragon to such extreme measures?
Dometis eyes the elf who had hung back, but now steps closer, "I have my keen sense of smell to thank for the discovery of Alqualonde
Nole sees a wounded spot on one of the dragon's front legs. He drops down and starts to bandage it. His knowledge of healing is not especially helpful but he could bandage wounds. "A cooking fire? That could be our kitchens. Estelin has been trying to ... cook again, I suppose you could call it." Olwe tries to suppress a groan at the words "cook" and "Estelin."
Apakenwe places both palms against the dragon's shoulders, feeling smooth scales. She extends her awareness through his body... yes, this seems to be an entirely physical creature. Perhaps a very clever and skilled Ainu could mimic this, but much more likely this is a mortal dragon. Following the connections of the bones ... up the neck, down the spine, into the legs ... plenty of bruises, and some cuts in the skin. More serious, a broken rib, and a broken bone in the right foreleg. She walks around to the affected side of the dragon.
"Careful, Nole, there is a broken bone in there. And a broken rib as well...though..." She eyes the girth of the dragon and says, "the rib will not be easy to bandage."
"Oh?" he looks questioningly at Apakenwe. There are a lot of injuries. "I don't think he will be flying again for a while," he remarks.
Dometis winces in pain and growls a little in reaction, more of a reflex. The rumbling causing even more pain to course through his body, making him stop and grit his teeth.
"It is hard to imagine any creature flying until they dropped from the sky, " says Olwe gently. "I think when you are more rested, we shall need to hear what drove you to such measures," Olwe tells Dometis. He jerks his hand back at the sudden growl, as much by reflex, and eyes the dragon as he seems to shudder in pain.
"This bone here" she explains to Nole, holding a hand over the spot on the dragon's leg. You can tie it together, or something?"
"My apologies, my lord, just a reflex to pain." He turns his head to eye the unnamed elf. "As much as it saddens me, i do believe you are correct, elf. What is thy name?"
Nole looks at the giant bone that needs mending: it is longer than he is tall. "I am Nole, and serve Olwe as the master of sailors. I think it would do you well to rest for a while," he says as he turns back to the bone.
Dometis slowly nods. "Aye, it is for the best, Nole."
Olwe looks up at Nole and nods his agreement. "It seems, Dometis, that you are our guest here, for I cannot see you continuing your journey onward. Especially," he pauses to look up at the skies, so clear, so fair, and then back down to the dragon before him, "since you have no destination in mind. But mind you, I think I need to hear why you would exhaust yourself so and take such risks."
Dometis turns back to Olwe, dipping his head a little in respect. "Aye, King Olwe. Thank you for..." he pauses searching for a better phrase "...well, not killing me on sight. Believe me as soon as I am rested and well, you, and all who wish to listen will know of my story." He gently preses his snout to the King's forehead and then lowers it. His breathing deepens as his injuries drain his energy. he tries to fight back the pain
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Olwe turns and waves for Nole to step nearer, now that the dragon seems to be of little present danger. Nole walks up beside his king, and stands beside him. He is still uneasy but his king's actions have called him. He asks, "How did you discover Alqualonde? Were you en route somewhere and happen to find us?"
"Ah that is a lengthy tale, Lord: however, to be brief, I blacked out from exhaustion, only to awaken but a foot above the canopy of the forest. I crashed into the trees, never a good thing for any species. I also believe the landing in the harbour didn't help a great deal."
Olwe glances up at Nole and catches his eye. Olwe's gaze reflects the incredulity at the thought of any creation falling asleep in flight. His face grows contemplative as he looks back over at Dometis, a thousand questions in his mind, but for now, he must ponder how extensive were the injuries of the being before him. He looks over at Apakenwe's kneeling form. What drove this dragon to such extreme measures?
Dometis eyes the elf who had hung back, but now steps closer, "I have my keen sense of smell to thank for the discovery of Alqualonde
Nole sees a wounded spot on one of the dragon's front legs. He drops down and starts to bandage it. His knowledge of healing is not especially helpful but he could bandage wounds. "A cooking fire? That could be our kitchens. Estelin has been trying to ... cook again, I suppose you could call it." Olwe tries to suppress a groan at the words "cook" and "Estelin."
Apakenwe places both palms against the dragon's shoulders, feeling smooth scales. She extends her awareness through his body... yes, this seems to be an entirely physical creature. Perhaps a very clever and skilled Ainu could mimic this, but much more likely this is a mortal dragon. Following the connections of the bones ... up the neck, down the spine, into the legs ... plenty of bruises, and some cuts in the skin. More serious, a broken rib, and a broken bone in the right foreleg. She walks around to the affected side of the dragon.
"Careful, Nole, there is a broken bone in there. And a broken rib as well...though..." She eyes the girth of the dragon and says, "the rib will not be easy to bandage."
"Oh?" he looks questioningly at Apakenwe. There are a lot of injuries. "I don't think he will be flying again for a while," he remarks.
Dometis winces in pain and growls a little in reaction, more of a reflex. The rumbling causing even more pain to course through his body, making him stop and grit his teeth.
"It is hard to imagine any creature flying until they dropped from the sky, " says Olwe gently. "I think when you are more rested, we shall need to hear what drove you to such measures," Olwe tells Dometis. He jerks his hand back at the sudden growl, as much by reflex, and eyes the dragon as he seems to shudder in pain.
"This bone here" she explains to Nole, holding a hand over the spot on the dragon's leg. You can tie it together, or something?"
"My apologies, my lord, just a reflex to pain." He turns his head to eye the unnamed elf. "As much as it saddens me, i do believe you are correct, elf. What is thy name?"
Nole looks at the giant bone that needs mending: it is longer than he is tall. "I am Nole, and serve Olwe as the master of sailors. I think it would do you well to rest for a while," he says as he turns back to the bone.
Dometis slowly nods. "Aye, it is for the best, Nole."
Olwe looks up at Nole and nods his agreement. "It seems, Dometis, that you are our guest here, for I cannot see you continuing your journey onward. Especially," he pauses to look up at the skies, so clear, so fair, and then back down to the dragon before him, "since you have no destination in mind. But mind you, I think I need to hear why you would exhaust yourself so and take such risks."
Dometis turns back to Olwe, dipping his head a little in respect. "Aye, King Olwe. Thank you for..." he pauses searching for a better phrase "...well, not killing me on sight. Believe me as soon as I am rested and well, you, and all who wish to listen will know of my story." He gently preses his snout to the King's forehead and then lowers it. His breathing deepens as his injuries drain his energy. he tries to fight back the pain
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