Fic: Duty
title: Duty
rating: PG-13
summary: A thane, William, is sent to a fiery cave to battle a dragon.
a/n: written for my LotR Literature assignment, Beowulf unit study. Also, William is not meant to be Billy. *g*
The pressing darkness felt unusually hot to William, and he untied his cape and tossed it behind him. He heard it land with a faint splash in what must be a small puddle. The darkness was so thick that he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. The heat in the air even made it hard to hear. The only other senses available to him were touch and smell. Taste was also a possibility, but William didn’t know what licking the cave walls would do for him, besides make him ill. Through the haze of muggy heat, William could smell old, stale smoke, as if something had burned a long time ago and the smoke had never dissipated. He put his hand out and waved it around until he found a stalagmite in front of him. He put his hand on the slightly rounded tip and stepped carefully around the obstruction, his other hand trailing on the wall beside him.
The smoke grew thicker as he went on. William coughed; the sound echoed around the dank cave and replied tenfold. William hoped the mysterious creature was still asleep, if it ever was in the first place. He strained to hear around corners, but heard nothing out of the ordinary. Another few curves in the rugged path, and William encountered a steep incline. He felt around for handholds and footholds and slowly made his way up the wall. The heat was intense; sweat was forming in thick droplets on the tip of his nose. He bent and wiped his face on his sleeve, nearly dislodging himself from the wall. Moments later, the slippery rocks beneath his feet crumbled and he slid down several yards.
Once at the top of the incline, William doubled over and panted into his tunic. The smoke was thicker this high up, and the heat, stronger. He rested for a short time, regaining his breath and relaxing his sore muscles. He unbuckled his sword from his belt and dropped it to the ground with his heavy, round shield. The clanging echoed down the cavern, but William didn’t worry. If the monster heard that, it would have heard his earlier coughing as well. William struggled out of his tunic; the coarse fabric was wet with his perspiration and it irritated his skin as well as retained his body heat.
With a heavy sigh, William hefted his wooden shield and slung it across his bare back. His sword he reattached to his leather belt. The metal was warm against his skin, heated by the air and by its proximity to his overheated body. He left his discarded tunic draped over a rock, hoping he could retrieve it later. If he survived his mission.
He trudged wearily onward; the path had leveled out. If anything, he was heading slightly down again. William thought he saw a faint glow up ahead, an orange light reflecting off the wet rocks. As he continued, the light seemed to get brighter, but William figured it was just his eyes playing tricks on him in the pitch blackness. Suddenly, a burst of flame and smoke shot out of a narrow crack in the cave wall.
William flung up his shield to protect his bare skin from the harsh heat. Seconds later, another burst of flame erupted from the opposite wall. William hid his head behind his shield. His eyes burned with both the heat of the flames and the sudden brightness after being in complete darkness for so long.
“Where are you?” he shouted raggedly. His voice was low and rough with disuse, but it echoed threateningly nonetheless. There was no answer from the monster. “Show yourself, creature from the depths!”
There came a tremendous roar from the caverns, the sound so loud that William had to physically take a step backwards. He huddled behind his shield even as his bones rattled beneath his skin.
“I am not afraid,” he yelled steadily, his voice growing in volume. “I am here to avenge my kinsmen.” William raised his sword and the faint firelight glanced off and magnified, reflecting to the glistening walls. He took a cautious step forward. “I’m here to send you to the fiery pits of hell, monster!” His voice reverberated around the cave and William thought that the echo sounded stronger than his natural voice at the moment.
He finally rounded the last bend. The light had grown steadily and was now brighter than daylight. William kept his shield in front of his head. There were flames all around and the smoke was black and thick, blocking out the light high above. His hair hung in wet strands around his shoulders and the sweat streamed off his body in thick torrents. The heat was so intense that William could feel the density of the air pushing against him from all sides. He coughed from the smoke.
“No king is worth this,” he muttered to himself, the sound lost in the tumultuous flames. But still he pushed onward, through the burning, raw heat. His sword slipped in his sweaty hands. It fell to the ground with a loud clang. The sound provoked a bone-rattling roar from the dragon. William bent to pick up the weapon, but the metal, overheated from being in such close proximity to the flames, burned his hand. William jerked backwards and shouted a wordless cry.
Two more agonizing minutes of walking later, William rounded a corner and came upon the dragon’s lair. At every outcropping, a flame leapt, high and strong. William didn’t know what was burning, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. He finally caught sight of his nemesis.
The dragon was long and lizard-like, but not as thick around the middle as he expected it to be. The creature seemed more of a cross between a large snake and a lizard than the bulky monster the minstrels sung about. Still, when the dragon bellowed, the sound was one of an evil beast. William squinted through the flames and started towards the center of the cavern, where the dragon waited.
“I am here to avenge the land that you destroyed, dragon,” William said gravely, his voice lost to the thundering flames. “My king wants your skin as a tapestry for his mead-hall.”
“You…” the dragon hissed. It sounded as if the creature was speaking on the inhale instead of the exhale. “Shall not…” A burst of flame spurted from both nostrils and the dragon’s breath blew the smoke into gently curling tendrils around its face. “Have me, mortal.”
“I shall fight you and win, monster.”
“You go… ssssir… to your… doom.”
“Then to death I shall go. It is my duty.”
“I… warned… you… thane.”
Without further warning, the dragon lunged forward, breathing a column of fire at William’s exposed chest and head. He flung up his shield to deflect the blast and smelled the wood burning. William hurried backwards and dodged behind a boulder for protection. His sword was lost in the journey, and too hot to handle in such an atmosphere besides. He had no weapon other than his shield, and the dragon would not allow him close enough to battle with his fists. William squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the oppressive light, the stinging sweat, and the thought of certain death. His mission was a lesson in futility. His king had sent him to his doom, that much was clear. But it was William’s duty to fight, and fight he would. The dragon hissed; the sound came from right behind William’s boulder.
William took a deep breath, as deep as he could in the thick air. There would be songs about him. Scops would sing to crowded mead-halls the events of his demise. William still huddled leeward of the boulder. The dragon was directly on the other side. William suddenly stood without warning and scaled the slippery rock face, climbing atop the huge stone. The dragon looked at him in surprise. They were eye to eye, not three feet from each other.
William leapt onto the dragon’s smooth, scaly head, latching on to the spines on its neck. He kicked his feet at the beady black eyes. The dragon roared and thrashed, trying to shake him off. William could see the steaming walls and flaming lava around them, and he tried to steer the dragon toward the burning pools. When the dragon’s clawed foot touched the flame, it recoiled, throwing William off.
The dragon took a hasty step backwards, right into the pit of lava. William could barely see, but he watched in satisfaction as the dragon slid to the ground, screaming in its hissing, accented speech.
When the dragon threw him off, William hit the craggy wall with tremendous force. The sharp, heated rocks tore William’s back, ripping and burning his skin. He couldn’t move; he suspected many of his bones were broken. He blinked hazily at the opposite wall. So this was death.
In his last moments, William took comfort in the bravery he had exhibited and the wealth glory his name would receive. He had fulfilled his duty.
rating: PG-13
summary: A thane, William, is sent to a fiery cave to battle a dragon.
a/n: written for my LotR Literature assignment, Beowulf unit study. Also, William is not meant to be Billy. *g*
The pressing darkness felt unusually hot to William, and he untied his cape and tossed it behind him. He heard it land with a faint splash in what must be a small puddle. The darkness was so thick that he couldn’t even see his hand in front of his face. The heat in the air even made it hard to hear. The only other senses available to him were touch and smell. Taste was also a possibility, but William didn’t know what licking the cave walls would do for him, besides make him ill. Through the haze of muggy heat, William could smell old, stale smoke, as if something had burned a long time ago and the smoke had never dissipated. He put his hand out and waved it around until he found a stalagmite in front of him. He put his hand on the slightly rounded tip and stepped carefully around the obstruction, his other hand trailing on the wall beside him.
The smoke grew thicker as he went on. William coughed; the sound echoed around the dank cave and replied tenfold. William hoped the mysterious creature was still asleep, if it ever was in the first place. He strained to hear around corners, but heard nothing out of the ordinary. Another few curves in the rugged path, and William encountered a steep incline. He felt around for handholds and footholds and slowly made his way up the wall. The heat was intense; sweat was forming in thick droplets on the tip of his nose. He bent and wiped his face on his sleeve, nearly dislodging himself from the wall. Moments later, the slippery rocks beneath his feet crumbled and he slid down several yards.
Once at the top of the incline, William doubled over and panted into his tunic. The smoke was thicker this high up, and the heat, stronger. He rested for a short time, regaining his breath and relaxing his sore muscles. He unbuckled his sword from his belt and dropped it to the ground with his heavy, round shield. The clanging echoed down the cavern, but William didn’t worry. If the monster heard that, it would have heard his earlier coughing as well. William struggled out of his tunic; the coarse fabric was wet with his perspiration and it irritated his skin as well as retained his body heat.
With a heavy sigh, William hefted his wooden shield and slung it across his bare back. His sword he reattached to his leather belt. The metal was warm against his skin, heated by the air and by its proximity to his overheated body. He left his discarded tunic draped over a rock, hoping he could retrieve it later. If he survived his mission.
He trudged wearily onward; the path had leveled out. If anything, he was heading slightly down again. William thought he saw a faint glow up ahead, an orange light reflecting off the wet rocks. As he continued, the light seemed to get brighter, but William figured it was just his eyes playing tricks on him in the pitch blackness. Suddenly, a burst of flame and smoke shot out of a narrow crack in the cave wall.
William flung up his shield to protect his bare skin from the harsh heat. Seconds later, another burst of flame erupted from the opposite wall. William hid his head behind his shield. His eyes burned with both the heat of the flames and the sudden brightness after being in complete darkness for so long.
“Where are you?” he shouted raggedly. His voice was low and rough with disuse, but it echoed threateningly nonetheless. There was no answer from the monster. “Show yourself, creature from the depths!”
There came a tremendous roar from the caverns, the sound so loud that William had to physically take a step backwards. He huddled behind his shield even as his bones rattled beneath his skin.
“I am not afraid,” he yelled steadily, his voice growing in volume. “I am here to avenge my kinsmen.” William raised his sword and the faint firelight glanced off and magnified, reflecting to the glistening walls. He took a cautious step forward. “I’m here to send you to the fiery pits of hell, monster!” His voice reverberated around the cave and William thought that the echo sounded stronger than his natural voice at the moment.
He finally rounded the last bend. The light had grown steadily and was now brighter than daylight. William kept his shield in front of his head. There were flames all around and the smoke was black and thick, blocking out the light high above. His hair hung in wet strands around his shoulders and the sweat streamed off his body in thick torrents. The heat was so intense that William could feel the density of the air pushing against him from all sides. He coughed from the smoke.
“No king is worth this,” he muttered to himself, the sound lost in the tumultuous flames. But still he pushed onward, through the burning, raw heat. His sword slipped in his sweaty hands. It fell to the ground with a loud clang. The sound provoked a bone-rattling roar from the dragon. William bent to pick up the weapon, but the metal, overheated from being in such close proximity to the flames, burned his hand. William jerked backwards and shouted a wordless cry.
Two more agonizing minutes of walking later, William rounded a corner and came upon the dragon’s lair. At every outcropping, a flame leapt, high and strong. William didn’t know what was burning, and he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. He finally caught sight of his nemesis.
The dragon was long and lizard-like, but not as thick around the middle as he expected it to be. The creature seemed more of a cross between a large snake and a lizard than the bulky monster the minstrels sung about. Still, when the dragon bellowed, the sound was one of an evil beast. William squinted through the flames and started towards the center of the cavern, where the dragon waited.
“I am here to avenge the land that you destroyed, dragon,” William said gravely, his voice lost to the thundering flames. “My king wants your skin as a tapestry for his mead-hall.”
“You…” the dragon hissed. It sounded as if the creature was speaking on the inhale instead of the exhale. “Shall not…” A burst of flame spurted from both nostrils and the dragon’s breath blew the smoke into gently curling tendrils around its face. “Have me, mortal.”
“I shall fight you and win, monster.”
“You go… ssssir… to your… doom.”
“Then to death I shall go. It is my duty.”
“I… warned… you… thane.”
Without further warning, the dragon lunged forward, breathing a column of fire at William’s exposed chest and head. He flung up his shield to deflect the blast and smelled the wood burning. William hurried backwards and dodged behind a boulder for protection. His sword was lost in the journey, and too hot to handle in such an atmosphere besides. He had no weapon other than his shield, and the dragon would not allow him close enough to battle with his fists. William squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block the oppressive light, the stinging sweat, and the thought of certain death. His mission was a lesson in futility. His king had sent him to his doom, that much was clear. But it was William’s duty to fight, and fight he would. The dragon hissed; the sound came from right behind William’s boulder.
William took a deep breath, as deep as he could in the thick air. There would be songs about him. Scops would sing to crowded mead-halls the events of his demise. William still huddled leeward of the boulder. The dragon was directly on the other side. William suddenly stood without warning and scaled the slippery rock face, climbing atop the huge stone. The dragon looked at him in surprise. They were eye to eye, not three feet from each other.
William leapt onto the dragon’s smooth, scaly head, latching on to the spines on its neck. He kicked his feet at the beady black eyes. The dragon roared and thrashed, trying to shake him off. William could see the steaming walls and flaming lava around them, and he tried to steer the dragon toward the burning pools. When the dragon’s clawed foot touched the flame, it recoiled, throwing William off.
The dragon took a hasty step backwards, right into the pit of lava. William could barely see, but he watched in satisfaction as the dragon slid to the ground, screaming in its hissing, accented speech.
When the dragon threw him off, William hit the craggy wall with tremendous force. The sharp, heated rocks tore William’s back, ripping and burning his skin. He couldn’t move; he suspected many of his bones were broken. He blinked hazily at the opposite wall. So this was death.
In his last moments, William took comfort in the bravery he had exhibited and the wealth glory his name would receive. He had fulfilled his duty.