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Celebrimbor Helyanwë (suntdracones) wrote in st_margarets,
@ 2015-11-27 20:48:00

Entry tags:

character: ashton hartley, character: leif ragnarsson, location: by the ocean

Thread: There Be!
WHO: The Jörmungandr and Celebrimbor Helyanwë
WHEN: Friday, Nov. 27 - After dark
WHERE: By the ocean

Ms. Menides was wise beyond measure. So much so that, after having a lengthy discussion with Mr. Leif Ragnarsson and his acceptance of the position of staff member, she had seen to it that the newly arriving adult dragon would meet straightaway the adolescent resident on neutral turf - after dark, outside, and away from buildings.

Ashton had been calling the Academy and surrounding grounds his home for two full years. He'd begun to rebuild his hoard of gold, cherishing each piece. His friends were there. His witch was there. He'd defended the territory against a Wendigo, a Warlock, and now an army of Otherworlders. It was both wisdom and common sense to introduce him to the elder, stronger, more mature member of his race before Ashton took once again to battle to clear the threat to his turf.

Ms. Menides summoned Ashton to her office and informed him that he would be meeting the newest member of staff. Ashton could already smell him. He was told in the convincing way that only the Headmistress seemed to be able to hold over her students that he would show this new dragon courtesy and respect. Ashton was also reminded that the cliffs, however much he wanted to claim them for his own and no one else's, were not to be used as ground zero for an epic dragon fight of fire and ice. Ashton was visibly bristled as he left the office, but he was also cowed - another thing only the Headmistress was capable of doing.

He marched outside in human form where night had fallen and as soon as he was clear of the building, spread his wings. Ashton the dragon leaped into the air, black wings beating hard to lift his considerable size airborne and out towards the designated meeting spot near the ocean. Ashton didn't think it was fair, that the ice dragon had been given a considerable advantage being so close to the water, but his protests had fallen on deaf ears. He was meant to be at a disadvantage.

With the castle at his back, Barclay in suspended sleep within, Ashton flew towards the coast already feeling the need to defend and protect what was precious to him. This other dragon, coming up in here like this, how foolish! At the same time, Ashton's earlier experience with a dragon in Alaska had been a good experience for him. Meeting Kaltharta the Icy had been an honor, and Ashton was fascinated with her. But this was a male and he was coming to live with him, not just for a visit. Ashton's eagerness to meet a new dragon was overridden by his instinctive dominance, his territorial nature, and the Dragon Sickness that ignited in him whenever he felt his gold was threatened.

Ashton muttered and chattered to himself, the sounds not unlike bird noises as he circled and tried to spot this invader. Ashton was a black object in the sky and this soon after a full moon he was only marginally easier to see from below. Not seeing the other dragon but smelling that he was near, Ashton's spikes and spines stood up on their ends in an expressively splayed array that made him seem larger than he was. He swooped down and all but attacked the beach, landing on the rocks and sand with claws digging deep. Ashton growled, snaking his neck around to survey the area some more. He left his wings spread, tail lashing at the air like a club with the thickness of a tree trunk, and fire glowed hot yellow in his throat.

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the_jormungandr
2015-11-29 11:41 pm UTC (link)

The meeting of two unfamiliar dragons was a significant thing to be taken seriously, with no shortage of formality, decorum and care. His parents had taught him how to conduct himself and what would be expected of him in his youth, but that had been well over three hundred years past. It had all been in theory, never before in practice, and it was not a new experience Leif had wished to undertake on his first night on campus. For the last three hours, the Jörmungandr had been absent from the St. Margaret's campus in preparation. He had taken to the sea, several miles out until the shore vanished into the blue horizon. It wasn't a needless swim. For creatures of their size, taxing activity without reason seemed to lose more of its appeal with each passing year.

As the sun had begun to sink, the Jörmungandr's long trip back to the shore had been full of questions and curiosities. Would this be a productive meeting, or should he anticipate violence? Would the boy be reasonable, or would he have to exert dominance to maintain peace between them? Leif hoped this would not be the case, but was prepared to be disappointed. And annoyed. Extremely annoyed.

Just beneath the surface of the waves, Leif was getting close to the shore when he spotted the other. 'Ashton," the Fury had called him. Ashton had landed on the dark beach, all spit and vinegar, yellowing at the throat. Leif broke the surface a few hundred meters offshore. From the beach, he appeared to be only a sea serpent then; with a head wreathed in horns, biblical in size and scale, his wings and limbs concealed beneath the waves. When his talons grazed the coastal shelf beneath him, he climbed out of the waves towards the black dragon, the deep booming brass of his first call cracking against the cliffs. His wings unfolded, angling over his back to sluice water away most efficiently as he closed in on the other. A good sized adolescent. Promising.

He spoke an old greeting in Draconic before introducing himself. It felt good to speak his first tongue again. "I am the Jörmungandr. This place is not mine, it is yours," he acknowledged with a noble turn of his head.

The beast's long neck coiled back again, folding against itself like a great, scaled swan's while the older male made a contemplative 90 degree trek around the younger. He would not step between Ashton and his territory yet. It was in bad taste. Leif sat then. A long, lash-like prehensile tail curled around his taloned feet like a cat's, hooked barbs twitching at it's peak, saltwater rising from his scales in coils of steam. He had positioned them on equal grounds - equally close to both the cliffs and water to remove any perceived advantage in location. Now there was only size, strength and experience. If a dragon could have looked smugly pleased with himself...

"I bring you offering, for the hospitality of your lands," he continued. A trespass of territory had to be addressed first, before the respect owed to seniority. Leif opened the talons of his right forefoot, releasing a burlap bag covered in thick algae and slime. He nudged it forward in the sand, then split the rotten fabric with a talon. Inside, glittered a pile of priceless Spanish bullion. It was not much, but it was all a youngling was owed and a vast fortune nonetheless. It was also a test.

The Jörmungandr waited with eyes glowing a deep predator's blue, anticipating the response.

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suntdracones
2015-12-01 08:30 am UTC (link)

Ashton's silver eyes caught sight of the thing out in the water and his nostrils flared wide to snort hot air as he watched the enormous ice dragon emerge from the water. Ashton stood his ground, but every spine on his body was raised in a threatening bristle and his muscles were coiled to either attack or dodge if this creature dared attack.

More and more of the other male emerged from the water and Ashton stared in growing wonder. Kaltharta had been large, but not like this. It was not often in his life that Ashton experienced doubt in himself. But this was one of those times. If this became a fight, Ashton knew he would lose.

The other dragon greeted him in the language that Ashton had only ever heard uttered by one other dragon since he hatched. It was a language Ashton had always known, deep in his bones. The black dragon's tongue flicked out, tasted the air, breathing in to stoke the flames, and then he gave the slightest incline of his head to acknowledge the introduction.

Ashton turned when the Jörmungandr came to shore, never taking his eyes off the great icy one, and it was fortunate that Leif didn't continue to make a move towards the shore. Ashton was prepared to make a threatening move, but the need never came. The other dragon came to a stop, steaming, and then spoke again.

The familiar, loving sound of gold chimed sweet to Ashton's ears. The black dragon had not expected this, a gift for meeting on another dragon's territory. He'd been so focused on the need to defend his turf that he hadn't considered that this dragon would respect the tradition - rather, Ashton expected him to try and insert himself as the new dominant force here. The new apex predator. But here he was, presenting his offering.

Ashton blinked, the song of the gold calling to his veins, drawing him in, making him step closer to the Jörmungandr. Keeping his head high, posturing like a proud bird who deigned to approach and investigate the gift, Ashton walked forward, closing some space between them. He wanted that gold, but he didn't want to appear to want the gold.

It was difficult to hide his love for gold when he came within range and swiped the bag up into his claws. Ashton made a quick retreat with the prize, growling at the Jörmungandr and holding the bag of gold close against his chest. When he was a safe distance away again, Ashton inspected it more closely. He breathed it in, touched it to his scales, became acquainted with it. Ashton knew it was pure gold by its scent and its weight, knew it was old and most precious and, most importantly, his.

Ashton focused sharply on Leif. He finally sat himself down, spines starting to lay back as he relaxed a bit. Ashton spoke in their shared racial tongue. "I am Celebrimbor Helyanwë. To the humans, I am known as Ashton. I accept your tribute, Jörmungandr." Then, with one more sweeping look over the older male, Ashton added as though it were up to him to say yes or no. "You may stay if you wish." There was a haughty tilt to his head as he said it.

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the_jormungandr
2015-12-06 10:51 pm UTC (link)

Haughtiness where there should have been humility. Disrespect, not diffidence. The older male was rapidly forming an opinion of his younger counterpart. So far, it was not favorable. He sat tall, still as a stone monolith, watching as Ashton feigned disinterest then scurried forward to claim his gold like a starving dog stealing scraps. Leif snorted, curls of air far colder than the winter night puffing from his nose.

The serpent’s spines began to bristle.

He was prepared to overlook the obvious dragon sickness in the younger male and the dangers it posed, but couldn’t stomach an entitled teenager who failed to both respect and exchange a tribute to a visiting elder. The ring of horns cresting his head flared. He looked up over the cliffs, studying the forest and considering the school beyond sight. He didn’t know this land and didn’t want it for his own, but he would have to take responsibility for it, as the apex predator, if he were to put Ashton in his place. More, the wounds that would result would be unpleasant. Another snort followed by a toss of his head to and fro; amusement and annoyance.

“Your permission is not needed, young one.” His spines settled. “I will remain. Indefinitely.” Weeks. Months. Years. He himself didn’t know. Leif pressed forward into the space Celebrimbor had put between them, across that invisible line in the sand between ‘comfort’ and ‘challenge’ to where the other clutched at his prize.

“The gold sings to all of us, but you let it be a siren’s song. Foolishness. Weakness.” His disgust was plain. Dragons were fading from the world for many reasons; the sickness was high on the list. When he’d drawn close enough to hear the hum of the gold again, he veered inward on a circular path around the other, towards the cliffs, reminding himself to practice temperance and not snap at that haughty head. “How have you failed to learn this lesson? Who taught you? Explain,” he boomed.

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suntdracones
2015-12-08 07:00 pm UTC (link)

Ashton's spines bristled out again as the older dragon drew closer and, his first thoughts being to defend his gold from being taken again, spat flame from his throat in a short burst of warning. He didn't quite dare to blow fire directly at the larger dragon, however. The black scaled dragon lifted up on three legs, the fourth still clutching his gold. His growl rumbled in his chest and his expression was fierce, teeth bared.

The hiss was all but involuntary when he was accused of being foolish. Weak. He was not those things! But something about the way the Jörmungandr said it didn't just offend Celebrimbor, it made him want to prove him wrong. Ashton had, all his life, wanted to be the most powerful, the most clever, the most beautiful dragon possible - so having an older and wiser dragon tell him he was anything but, well, it did not sit well with him. Ashton especially hated that he was being called out for his addiction to the gold.

Ashton turned his body on the sand when Leif circled, wings coming up and snapping tight in a threatening pose as his rear end swerved to stay ready to spring into action. Ashton hated that the ice dragon had now put himself closer to Ashton's cliffs. The younger dragon looked between them and the immediate threat, putting his head down in a subconsciously subordinate position. The booming voice had that kind of effect on him.

"No one!" he hissed back. "No one taught me! I hatched alone and learned without need of anyone else." It wasn't entirely true. Ashton had the gold of his parents hoard with him. The comforting presence of a massive treasure that permeated his blood and kept him going.

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