The Crybaby and the Elf Part 7

And now, we have come to the end of the story! Thank you so much everyone for all your encouraging comments! They really meant a lot, and it was thrilling to know people enjoyed it as much as me! And thank you for putting up with my mean cliff-hangers. ;)

The Crybaby and the Elf

(And also a really mean dragon)

Part 7

By

Hannah Williams

          The location of Fellfang’s lair was common knowledge. If you were anywhere in the area (oh, foolish traveler) you couldn’t miss the rocky mountains covered in ash and devoid of life. Whether you were carrying a pie or not, it was an unpleasant business climbing up the mountain to Fellfang’s cave, carved deep into the peak like a gaping mouth.

            But despite the difficulty, Sharenth made it all the way to the cavern’s lip without dropping the pie, all the while wondering when Fellfang would launch down upon him in a hurricane of fire. Now he stood uncertain before the depth of darkness, swaying in the mountain wind. Fellfang was probably in there—in that burning blackness.

            “Try behind you,” a voice hoarse with fire chuckled.

            With a sharp gasp, Sharenth spun around to look straight into the face of Fellfang. The dragon had come behind him on the silent wings of death. His body lay on the slope of the mountain and his chin and front claws rested on the ledge where Sharenth stood, his eyes flickering. Further down the mountain, his tail flicked back and forth, instigating small avalanches.

            His heart thumping in his chest, Sharenth strove to keep his face calm.

            Fellfang smirked. “I know you,” he remarked blithely. “You’re that elf that spoiled all my fun. Come for the girl, eh? Then come in, come in, welcome to my parlor.”

            As any good psychiatrist will tell you, there is nothing quite so bad on the nerves as discovering that a huge dragon in very close proximity has a grudge on you and has been waiting for your arrival.

           When Fellfang gestured in for him to enter the lair, Sharenth did so and was actually glad it was so dark, for under the noise Fellfang made crawling after him, he was able to take deep cleansing breaths without the dragon’s notice. After several twists and turns in the tunnel, they came out into a great cavern awash with light. It was so bright, Sharenth first thought, Dragons have electricity? As it turned out, there was only a small hole in the ceiling that let down a shaft of light, but this shaft light reflected off the ocean of gold and filled the entire expanse with a glaring glow. There was all kinds of treasure here, anything, you name it; there was even an expensive toaster over, though why a dragon needs a toaster over is beyond me.

            Sharenth saw none of it. He saw only Wailie across the room.

            She was perched atop a huge chest, swinging her legs and braiding strands of pearls. Her head bobbed up when they entered, ringlets bouncing around her face. Her expression of fear switched to shock. “Sharenth!!” she squeaked, voice echoing. “What are you doing here?”

            Before Sharenth could respond, Fellfang slid enormous bulk between them. “My question exactly,” he purred. “What are you doing here? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

            Wailie’s face, pinched with worry, peeked out from behind the dragon’s tail.

            Sharenth blinked and took another deep breath. His and Wailie’s life hung on this crucial moment. Pasting on a dazzling smile, he extended the pie in both hands. “For Wailie,” he said in a commanding tone.

            Fellfang looked back at the princess. “Did you hear that, darling? He came all this way to bring you a pie!” Without warning, a dragon talon flicked out and speared the pie. He popped in into his mouth and smacked his lips in relish. “Delectable. Never tasted better.”

            Setting his hands on hips, Sharenth glared up at the dragon. “Not fair.”

            Wailie stared at him, horrified, for she knew, as everyone does, that it is considered most unwise to say “not fair” to a dragon.

            The dragon’s eyes, which had been closed in appreciation, snapped open. ‘You’re right,” he growled. “It’s not fair. That was a measly morsel.” His neck snaked down to the ground, and he looked up at the elf with malice. “Perhaps I’ll have you for second course.” His forked tongue slithered out and began coiling around Sharenth’s legs.

            Quickly, Sharenth stepped out of the deadly embrace and blurted, “Riddle game!”

            Fellfang’s head jerked up and he frowned. “What?”

            Adopting an arrogant expression Sharenth shrugged. “Who’s smartest?”

            That really tickled Fellfang. The dragon laughed so hard, chunks of rock pattered down from the roof. You see, despite the fact that his elf had thwarted his surprise attack, Fellfang did not really think him capable of dark designs. For carved deep into every dragon heart is an old dragon proverb that goes like this—

Who is the greatest in wits and in

Tongue?

The dragon, that’s who, he’s number

One!

He’s clever and sly, he plays riddles for

Fun,

When the riddles are over, the dragon has

Won,

It’s the dragon that’s standing when all is

Done,

So everyone else is stupid.

           Yep, that’s how it went, and Fellfang firmly believed it. Besides, no dragon can resist a riddle game, and the idea of going against someone who can only speak two words per sentence was a delight. “A riddle game!” Fellfang roared. “Of course, of course, fire away. Hahawhaw! Fire? Hawhaw!”

            “You first,” Sharenth gasped, because he couldn’t think of a single riddle that had two words.

            “All right.” The dragon settled back on his haunches and coiled his tail around him. “No-legs lay on one-leg, two-legs sat near on three-legs, four-legs gets some.”

            Sharenth knew the answer, of course, as any dedicated The Hobbit fan does. Except there was no possible way for him to say, “Fish on a little table, mat table sitting on a stool, the cat has the bones,” in two words.

            Fellfang had sniggered his way through the question and he was sniggering still. Suddenly, he grimaced and held a clawed hand to his stomach. “Well, my bold little elf,” the dragon laughed. “I’m not sure what we were playing for, but I think you lost.”

            Desperate, Sharenth cast about for some diversion, and luckily, he was surrounded by it. “Beautiful treasure,” he remarked.

            A look of suspicion flashed across Fellfang’s scaly face, but the dragon proverb reasserted itself in his mind; anyway, a dragon can’t resist boasting about his treasure. “This is one of my favorites,” he said, lifting up a carpet of woven gold. “It’s worth at least three kingdoms.”

            A long gurgle rumbled throughout the room. Fellfang stared at his bulging stomach from whence the sound had come. “Anyway,” he snapped. “I’m wealthier than any dragon in the world. BWAAAAAAAARRRRRRRP.”

            This last sound was a huge belch that rang in everyone’s ears and turned everyone’s stomach.

            Fellfang looked shocked. A queasy green fog glazed his eyes, and he closed them as he inhaled air fragrant with his breath. When his eyes opened, they gleamed with unholy fire.  He let out a shuddering, steaming hiss. “What did you put in that pie, clever one?” he murmured, his voice sinister. His head snaked back to the ground, and he stalked forward like a cat about to pounce, a growl rumbling in his throat.

            Sharenth stepped backwards just as fast, but he tripped over a box of gold. He landed flat on his back.

            Fellfang delicately placed the tip of his talon on the elf’s chest. “What did you put in that yummy pie, dearest one?” he repeated, expelling a cloud of fume from his nostrils.

            Coughing violently, Sharenth recognized the dragon’s mistake. Enveloped as he was in the cloud of poison, he was hidden. He grabbed the dagger hidden under his belt and slid the blade in between the flesh and claw.

            Fellfang roared in pain and yanked his limb back. Furious at the injury, he unleashed a flood of fire on the spot where Sharenth lay, melting everything to liquid.

            Wailie screamed.

            Only for a moment did Fellfang look satisfied with himself. Then he realized that something was clinging to his wrist. Sharenth had grabbed hold of the claws when Fellfang pulled them back. With a yowl, the dragon bit at the offending elf, but only succeed in biting himself, because Sharenth dropped back to the ground.

            Perhaps if Wailie hadn’t screamed, Fellfang would have forgotten about her. Or maybe he would have remembered her anyways. Whatever the case, the dragon changed course and lumbered towards her.

            “Wailie, run!” Sharenth shouted, sprinting after the dragon.

            Salt-white, Wailie turned to run, but she was up against the wall. Before she’d gone a step, Fellfang grabbed her.

            Sharenth skidded to a halt, fear robbing all his breath.

            Rearing up into the air, Fellfang shook his fist with Wailie poking out of it at the elf. “Sweet revenge, my bold little elf!” Fellfang screamed, grey foam frothing down his jowls. “The dragon’s left standing when all else is done!”

            Then his red eyes rolled back up into his head, and with a creaking of joints, Fellfang the great red dragon thudded to the floor.

            Wailie rolled out of his limp grasp and crawled away on her hands and knees, gasping. Sharenth ran to her and pulled her to her feet. Clinging to each other, they looked down at the dragon sprawled across his gold. “Is he dead?” the princess asked.

            It appeared to be so. Only the whites of the dragon’s eyes were visible and his tongue draped across the ground. Already his red scales were fading to grey.

            With far more bravery than he actually felt, Sharenth strode forward and poked the dragon’s eyes with his dagger hilt.

            Nothing.

            Fellfang, terror of the world, was well and truly dead!

            Waili began to tremble. “Oh Sharenth!” she cried as he returned to her. “I was so scared. Fellfang said all sorts of mean things and I thought no one would come.” Tears shining her blue eyes, she looked in wonder at the man she had so come to adore. Was it real? Was he really here in front of her? “Why?” she whimpered. “Why did you come for me?”

            “Because, Wailie,” Sharenth said.

            “Because why?” she insisted.

            There are some things that no enchantments can hold back. There are some things that break enchantments. And sometimes, they are one in the same.

            “I love you,” Sharenth said.

            Wailie’s lips parted and tears began to spill down her cheeks in earnest. “Wha-what?” she stammered. “You…you…you love me?” She collapsed in his arms, crying, “Oh, Sharenth!” Then she stiffened and jerked back, looking at him like a startle fawn. “Hey!” she yelped. “You just spoke three words!”

            Sharenth blinked. He’d been so pleased with his announcement, he hadn’t even noticed the slip of the spell. But he felt it now, like a weight being cut loose. “I did…I can…I can speak normal!”

            Laughing in delight, she launched herself at him, nearly knocking them both over. “Oh, how wonderful! How did it happen?”

            “Um…dragon poison?” he considered doubtfully.

            “Nonsense!” Wailie giggled. “Haven’t you heard the saying, Love conquers all? It’s true, just as the fairy tales say!” She whirled around, but Sharenth caught her hand and pulled her back, his face serious.

            “Wailie, I came looking for you, because I wanted…to get to…know you…better. I think…” he hesitated, his nose scrunching in an adorable way. “I think your people call it courting?”

            Wailie squeaked. “No way!” Gasping, she clapped her hands to her cheeks. “Yes—yes, of course!”

            Then they both stopped and looked warily at the dead dragon.

            If this was a tragedy story, Fellfang would have only been playing dead, and about now, he would jump up and gobble them both.

            Have we discussed my position on tragedy stories?

            Bah.

            So be assured, dear readers, Fellfang is honest to goodness dead.

            So now we have come to the end of this tale.

            When Wailie and Sharenth left the cave, they discovered his horse had fled. Fortunately, Skervarcalcosious came by on command of Aunt Agatha and carried them back to Zelray, though he complained the entire time that he’d turned into a jolly trolley.

            Everyone was touched and amazed by the incredible story. When the monarchs of Zelray heard of the plight of Pluopia, they set aside their bitterness and offered both financial and physical support. So the kingdom of Pluopia was rebuilt, with much help from the elves since Thancolen (who had suspected true love as the cure all along) guessed that their Head Botanist would rule there someday.

            And he was right again, for Sharenth and Wailie were wed under the trees on morning bright.

            It was truly the beginning of a happily ever after.

            But the couple never forgot that this happily ever after might never have happened without the extra something Agatha had poured into the pie.

            “What was that poison anyway?” Shareth asked one day.

            The trolless smiled winningly. “That? Oh, that was spoiled milk.”

            “Milk!” Sharenth squawked. “But it was purple!”

            “I told you it was spoiled.”

The End