tar_minyatur | And love grew between them, as little might be thought

There's both grizzled veterans of the War of Wrath in his train (although they were young, when the War was fought), as well as young stalwarts, still untested but valiant and true. Elros is the only one of them to have fought a dragon before, however.

(Admitedly, against the advice of his foster parents, who would much have preferred their fosterlings much further behind the front line, if it had been at all possible. Gil-Galad had had conniptons when he learnt just when the twins had seen their first true battle. Elros is pretty sure Earendil did the same, but since his father was not permitted to land during the War, he doesn't know. By the time Earendil led them to Numenor they had other things to say instead of hashing out old greviances that could not be changed. In that, Elros knows, he is far more like his father than his mother, who he will never see, for Elwing goes no further east than the Lonely Isle.)

Don't give your true name - they like riddles, and can be distracted that way, but only for a moment. He had warned them. And above all, do not look into their eyes. You all know the tale of Turin! Let it be a warning. The Enemy's creatures are cunning and dangerous, and their powers are great. Have a care what you say to them, and have a care what they say in return.

The creature bellows a challenge and Elros takes a breath and nods to his standard-bearer, the reckless youth falling away to the commander trained by some of the most lethal elves in Middle-earth. His banner unfurls, and the wind comes brisk to Elros' call, the red spears of the people of Hador under the winged crown of the new country flying high and proud.

"You are on Numenorean soil." He bellows in return, riding out just ahead, thankful that Elrond sent him an elven steed, for no mortal one would countenance getting this close. "Go back to the shadows of your master, beast! Or we will drive you hence ourselves."

Edited 2019-10-27 12:08 (UTC)

Ah, that one. The very fact that he rode forward and accepted that challenge was impressive enough, it'd been ages since any single person, upon witnessing the dragon's full outrage, was still bold enough to face him.

Foul his temper might have been, Gold Tooth's own convoluted and twisted code of honor bade him to descend from the clouds, mirrored blue scales reflecting back the angry black sky. After all... it wasn't as worthy of bragging to just hurl lightning from the sky and blow away an army. That wasn't going to get him the attention he liked so much. And the king, in his bold display here, at the very least rendered himself worthy of a face to face battle.

Two hundred plus feet of him alighted upon the ground, his long and heavy, black barbed tail dragging a deep furrow across the ground as he did. Golden chains clattered in a beard that seemed less like hair and more like a long, bristling collection of quills. As if to emphasize the creature's vicious, protruding teeth, one man sized canine seemed similarly to be crafted of gold, no doubt lost years ago perhaps in a quite similar situation.

"Come move me yourself, ye proud fool. I'll stay till I see fit to leave, I'll not be ordered around by gnats!"

Elros bares teeth in what is not a smile. His is the most dangerous job, the part of bait - and he argued long and hard about it earlier. But he is the great-grandson of Luthien, and although he is mortal now, he still has more power than any normal human. And he has the experience of the past to draw on.

(Also he's the king and can overrule them. That too.)

"We've fought greater dragons than you, beast! If gnat I be I have still sting enough to move you, so much lesser than your ancestors!"

Oh excuse you. The ensuing snort might have been powerful enough to blast a few unfortunate men back, as Gold Tooth dipped his head to better put that golden gaze on the level with Elros. Excuse you.

"You callin' me small, mate?" Alright so that was a little less terrifying than the previous speech, a little more personable, but no really.

He's actually, genuinely offended, how dare you.

"You're a fuckin' liar, ye are."

The snort almost unhorses Elros, even his elven steed rearing and bucking in fear, but it was Maglor who taught him to ride, the greatest cavalry commander of the First Age, and Elros not only holds his seat, but he manages to wrestle his horse back to relative calmness. He offers another not smile back, careful to not look directly in the eye.

"I'm calling you tiny, oh lesser scion of great parents! You'd not even make Ancalagon's front claw!"

Which is only a slight exaggeration, and probably unfair to bring up, considering Ancalagon was a monster of monsters and probably very magically enhanced. But hey! A weak spot that the dragon doesn't like. Elros is going to milk it for all it's worth.

He is noting the refusal to look him in the eye, and tilts his head some, trying to force the matter. Not unlike an aggressively curious eagle trying to peer down a burrow.

"Well fuck him, aye? He ain't 'round but here I stand instead. I dinnae see no goddamn country sized dragons gallivantin' about so on the off chance ye ain't a filthy reekin' liar, then it still don't matter to me on account of him bein' fuckin' absent." Doesn't matter he said, as it obviously clearly does. He's not gearing up to attack now, quite the opposite, as he lowers himself to the ground to lay, haunches first then forelegs.

"That's an awful lot of keech you're talkin' for someone who ain't even the size of me own teeth, you wee dafty bastart."

Edited 2019-10-29 17:04 (UTC)

Nope, Elros is not planning on getting enspelled and wind up sleeping with his non-existent sister, thankyouverymuch!

Also this is hilarious, how sensitive this dragon appears to be about his size, so Elros is going to keep on keeping on.

"I am no liar, O Lesser Beast, for was I not there when my father threw him from the sky? There are others of my kin who can vouch for the size of him as he broke the mountain peaks in his death throes!" He shrugs. "As small as I am to you, you are really not that intimidating, comparatively."

"So he's fuckin' dead? Well now I'm even less impressed by him. The wanker was hundreds of kilometers across an' he still got done in, couldn't have been too brilliant. What'd have in that big ol' head of his, bloody rocks?

Your da slew a dunderheid." YES HE IS MAD. His pride's been damaged here, that's probably his most vital organ. The outright declaration that he, in all his obvious size and grandeur and magnificence here, wasn't that intimidating, was like an arrow shot straight through it.

This would have been the point, in far more serious stories with far more professional dragons, where the great beast would lunge and make it's fatal flaw. Expose it's soft belly, open it's mouth wide and have a sword jammed into the roof of it's mouth.

And to be fair, that's kind of what happened!

Only instead of having a two hundred foot long dragon trying to snap it's jaws around him, there's suddenly a very, very angry pirate with some very intimidating dentistry swinging a huge, beringed fist right at his face instead. FUCK YOU.

... That's different.

Elros throws himself backwards, off his horse (his poor longsuffering horse, who is fortunately used to his rider being An Idiot and pulling stupid stunts, and so just backs away with an upset shake of his head) to avoid the punch, rolling to his feet to face the.... dragon in human form?

"Far be it from me to assume the intelligence or lack thereof in dragons, O Small One! All I care about is that Ancalagon and it's ilk no longer threaten our people."

But you know what, he's going to just roll with it.

It sure was! The golden horns were still there, teeth and spiked alligator tail intact, blue wings flared in a clear threat display! But everything else? A bulky, tall, heavily tanned human, the scent of salt and ozone clinging to him, as if he'd just disembarked from a stormy sea.

Also, pissy. Very pissy.

"Fine then, I might deign to admit I'm a touch smaller'n some dead bloke," Technically, blue dragons weren't even the largest of the bunch but shut up he's making a point here, "But what good's bein' larger'n a mountain if ye aren't clever enough to not get killed by some wanderin' pillock, aye? I don't even have to be two hundred feet to knock ye about an' I'll face ye here now and prove it!"

THAT'S RIGHT, FINE. He'll kick your ass as a human, FUCK YOU.

Elros grins, and somewhere behind him, his honor guard sighs deeply. Those who have known him the longest will recognise that grin.

"You're welcome to try, O Small One. I'll even put away my sword."

Elros no.

"Toss it or keep it, I'll lamp ye one regardless, mate." Let it never be said that Gold Tooth didn't have at least some form of code of honor. With a metallic whine, his own cutlass was drawn, and then tossed to the side.

"Dinnae even me sword no matter what ye do, 'mon then ye jessie! Step lively an' lets see who the smaller man is."

"I'd certainly like to see you try" Elros taunts, unbuckling his sword belt and kicking it behind him, beckoning.

"Come then, O Little One."

Give him a second, the dragon turned man pauses just long enough to turn the rings on each hand around, and yes he does make a big show out of it. Look at him, getting ready to play fair and not cheat all the way through a man to man fist fight.

He's so nice.

"Gonnae have to mash your food from now on when I'm done with ye, you mouthy git."

Right on cue, at that beckon, Elros would have to think fast. In direct contrast to his size, Gold Tooth was rather unfairly quick on his feet, swinging in immediately with a harsh left hook aimed for the man's jaw.

Elros only laughs, eyes inhumanly bright. He won't call the wind to him again, or the sea - that would be cheating.

But he is King, and this is his land, and it knows him, and the Land holds its breath as it watches.

"I hear a lot of words, but see no action, Tiny Beast!" He retorts, and turns the yank backwards away from the punch into a roll aiming to sweep Gold Tooth's feet out from under him.

And love grew between them, as little might be thought

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