As he moves to draw Nasi away from the dragon, to join their fellow travelers, Fafnir reaches into the pouch hanging from his father's belt. He twists his waist to dig inside and curses under his breath as the burns, pulled in the process, protest loudly. Pulling out a small tin, he turns and pulls off the top, extending the tin toward the others. Inside a white lard based mixture of pungent herbs glisten wetly. "While we cannot perfume yonder beast, we can dab a bit of this under our noses and make the air a little bearable. The stench will trail us for a fair bit, I thought, so I made this last night," explains Fafnir. While I sewed bits of jewels onto the underside of father's belt, he thinks. But this they need not know.
Aztryd
rocks back and forth on her feet, impatiently. Nizl jabbers excitedly
in the early morning sunshine, glad to be outdoors. Scanning the
clearing, she mentally counts heads. All too few, but everyone is
here. Some of those hobbling determinedly now will probably be riding
in the cart before the day is done, but let them start the journey on
their own feet. "Perfume for a dragon?" she asks wryly. "I'd as soon
just put a few miles between us and that carcass."Nasi feels his face grow hot at the word "DragonsSlayer,"yet it seems that dragon slayer he is, for there the beast lies. He turns to call after Fafnir, "I'll be along in a moment." He steps toward the dragon, swallowing hard against the stench. There it was. A small length of shaft and fletches protruded from a blind, unseeing eye. Such a small thing to quench the fire of life in such a beast, and yet it had.
For a moment he is tempted to try to retrieve the arrow, to keep as a reminder of what he'd done, but then he snorts and mutters to himself, "A reminder of playing the coward too long, and acting too late." With a small shake of his head he turns away. Let it remain there as mute testimony that even something as mighty as a dragon can be brought low by the determination of one such as a dwarf. Two dwarves, he corrects himself and smiles as he remembers Fafnir standing by his side, whispering courage in his ear. His eyes are drawn instantly to the tall dwarf standing with the others as he walks towards the wagon. Thoughts of cowardice and being too late fall from his mind as he steps next to him and slips his hand shyly into his. "I am ready," he says simply.
Fafnir offers the contents of the tin all around to the others before extending it to Aztryd one last time, "Well, sweetling, if not for the dragon, a touch behind each ear, hmm?" He lifts the tin up towards his own nostrils, under which the streak of lard gleams in the weak light of the new day. "Might catch a new husband in the elf port with this. They might consider it the elixir of the Valar, eh?" His amber eyes lift to meet Eilif's as she stands by the horse, suddenly watching transfixed as a shudder runs through the beast. "Does he...does he need this?" Fafnir asks Eilif. "Or something?"
Then he feels the warmth of a hand in his, and turning to see Nasi step up beside him, the tin tumbles from his hand and lands, upside down in the dirt. Fafnir, blushing, starts to bend down, but as he bends his knees, the weight of the belt drags at him. "Well, " he says instead. "I suppose no one really needed it anyway?" His cheeks flame hotly, and inwardly he curses himself for his clumsy, uncontrolled reaction to Nasi's touch. But he holds the hand that holds his all the tighter.
Eilif does not hear Fafnir's words as she stands at the pony's head lost in thought. To her they are just part of the general murmur and hubbub of the preparations to leave. She stares back at what has been her home all her life. As a child she had walked these mountains with her father, tripping along beside him as he taught her about the rocks and the lie of the land, how to look for mineral seams and spot the hidden caverns where gems gleamed dully in the light of their lanterns. It was here that both her parents were entombed. This is home. For a dwarf, home, tradition, hard work, these were everything, and this is home. No. It had been home, but it is home no more. Her eyes narrow as they rest on the dragon, and her lips become a thin line of distaste. She has no way of knowing if it were the same one who was involved in the first attack on their home, but it does not matter. To her it represents its kind, and its kind has destroyed her home.
Eilif casts one last look over the desolate remains of Gamilfûn before turning on her heel to look down the track. It is time to go. To an elven port, she thinks, to meet an elven king and sail, by the Seven Fathers, SAIL, to an elven land. Which was worse, the open and obvious danger of dragons, or the sly, invidious untrustworthiness of elves? She snorts and spits in disgust at the ground. "Let's just hope the elves don't stink as much as the dragons," she mutters.
Adelsteinn looks on as everyone gathers around the cart. Finally everything seemed to be in order. It is time to leave this place behind. Nodding to Nasi's "I am ready." he then says, "Then let us be off. Lets start out." He then takes steps forward, and does not look back. The quicker they got to the port, the quicker he could have some more drink.
Fafnir tugs on Nasi's hand as they start off walking, pulling him closer to say, in a mock whisper, "You know, Handsome, I hear that elven males find our dwarf females irresistible...especially young, fertile widows with a gosling or two. Instant family and all. You know elves...smart and pretty, but blood a little on the thin side."
Then he matches his stride with the handsome dwarf beside him and tries to forget the pain of the burns, the pull of the belt and the stench of the dragon.
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