Naturally. Stories of the like rarely end there...
He went out himself, wanting to know if that face were that of his child and then needing, after to take the responsibility.
Walked right up to her, and spoke, all the strength of his voice in his words, and she replies, the roar echoing over the hills shaking him in his place. They say it lasted some three days between them, a battle of wits and will, where he just barely held onto his life, keeping himself from walking into her open jaws...
In the end, he had to flee, not a single strike done to her, but he had tricked but one single piece of information from her... what she were still scared of, even as a god.
Now, there's a big long bit here, a bit of wrestlin' with morality, chattin' on with the various gods and finding him bits of magic that would keep him safe from the hottest of fires, I aint gonna get into it since we aint got none of those about anymore.
But it were in the end, that he stood in front of the most ancient dragon, sitting high above the planes of Canis, in a woven cloak of harpy hair of Lepus, and surrounded by the feathers of the firebirds of Corvus, and bearing a sword wrought of Pavonian steel and Cephean forging, he begged of the dragon for his fire and rage, the very essence death itself.
He stood in that blaze for nearly half a minute, the ground crumbling down beneath him until he stood at the bottom of what would later be the greatest lake of the region.
And the sword, it glowed, full of the power of the dragons, and blessed by the eldest of them. So much power within it there weren't to be another of it's make for thousands of years.
I'll skip forward a bit, since those journeys back aint never quick things, but when he cornered her back in the swamp, he told her, he had forged of a weapon that even she should fear.
She laughed and told him it was too late, and soon she would feast upon the king of the gods himself soon.
Now here's where the storytelling gets all fancy and tricky like, and a proper silvertongue'd have you right wrapped up in the deception, but we WERE just talkin' bout time, yeah?
She pricked her finger, just a touch on it, and bled away entirely through that tiny cut. He took off her head, much like the scales were butter and returned it to the kingdom, to be the next ruler of Cygnus, and a holy man besides. Start of a monarchy and all that.
Not the most useful of a story for thems without a dragon, or for thems that can't stand in the middle of a dragon's fire.
Course, now if you had someone who could charm a crazy lady dragon, and one who could keep a slab a metal big enough in the air.. and not be in the same place... I wonder if it might work out just fine.