Prologue

Hundreds of thousands of years ago, the land of Alagaesia was formed by the true gods. From the very stone, they crafted two mighty creatures, with wings and talons and the intelligence of any normal humanoid. These came to be known as dragons to the newer peoples of Alagaesia. The gods made one male and one female and told the Great Dragon that the world was his and his mate to use as they wish. They charged the Great Dragon to establish the climates of Alagaesia, for it was a barren wasteland, devoid of any life. They gave him great power over everything in the world, even life and death.

So the Great Dragon first formed the mountains, and he made them mighty and high, a tribute to him and his mate. They came to be known as the Beors. Then he created the forest far to the north. He made the seas, and islands, and lakes and rivers and vallies. He left the center of his world untouched, for he enjoyed the heat of what was once Alagaesia.

Then he started to mate. The Great Dragon and his mate laid many eggs in the mountains he established as his dominion and the race of dragons grew to amazing numbers. But his mate had no wish to remain in Alagaesia. By this time, the dwarves had appeared and she disliked their presence. So the Great Dragon formed a special home just for the two of them where no living soul can enter. There were locked in together, never again to appear in the world.

But the Great Dragon desired a son, one he could truly call his own, one who could lead the dragon people in his stead, a son who was the true essence of him. For many thousands of years, he looked down at the world from his vault, searching for a female who could bear his son.

to be continued...

OK, here is the first chapter of the epic tale of Faefnir

Naverre had been pregnant for six months. She couldn't explain how it had happened, but she was pregnant nonetheless. Yet the thought disturbed her; she had been breathing fire for months, yet no young dragon she desired wished to take her for a mating flight. The elder couldn't explain how it happened, and neither could her family.

Her pregnancy had become somewhat of a gossip topic amongst the dragons of the mountain. Some of them said that she had finally succumbed to Fowlein, who had been wooing her since she was a hatchling, yet was always met with denial. Some said that she was having an affair, but the theory was laughed at. No dragon had ever betrayed their family and run off with someone else. A few said it was the work of the Great Dragon, yet this theory was laughed at as well. Many believed that the Great Dragon abandoned their world and locked himself away forever in his vault of a home. This had given rise to a sort of savagery amongst the dragons, who had started raiding the dwarven settlements. Dwarves were threatening war and the dragons were doing nothing about it in their cockiness.

Naverre knew only two things about her child: It was a male and he embodied power. She didn't know how, but she could tell that her child would be a great leader to their people, possibly the greatest ever to live on this world. She knew his name also: Faefnir. She liked the name, found it suitable for such a great dragon.

But a name wasn't helping her predicament. She was due to lay soon and she was starting to become very afraid. She had never laid before and she didn't even know how to parent such a powerful dragon. Naverre had long thought about asking Fowlein to help her, for she knew he was devoted to her, despite her feelings against him. But she was reluctant. If she approached him, new rumors will begin to spread, worse than the ones already going around.

One day, as she was flying in the mountain, she made the resolution that she would approach Fowlein and ask for his aid.

to be continued...

Chapter 2

Naverre was hoping the mountain would understand. But she had a feeling deep within her that something was going to happen that could endanger them all, especially her egg. She knew she had to approach Fowlein quickly before the event occurred.

As she landed in Fowlein's cave, she sighed in relief as Fowlein walked out of the back chamber. "Fowlein, I need your help," she said in the harsh, guttoral tongue of the dragons.

"Does it involve the egg?"

"Yes, it does. I can't raise it on my own. This egg is extremely important to me, but I don't know why. It's got an aura of power to it. I was just wondering..."

"If you want me to raise it with you."

"Yes. Exactly." Naverre was shocked by Fowlein's response. She guessed that he would be able to infer her request, but it was his tone that surprised. He sounded like he expected the request.

"Let me explain something to you," Fowlein said as he noticed Naverre's surprised expression. "I had an amazing dream last night. I swear it almost felt real. As a matter of fact, it was real. I was walking to bed last night when I suddenly saw a bright light appear behind me. It was absolutely brilliant and blinded me as I turned around to see what it was. When my eyesight returned to me, there was a large, golden dragon standing before. He held an aura of majesty and age and wisdom. I bowed before him, knowing that he was the Great Dragon."

Naverre stood shocked in her place. She already knew who she was bearing before the story was even finished.

"He said to me that you were pregnant with his son and that you would be due to deliver him in three days. He told me that you would approach me, asking for help raising him. Then he walked towards me. I was very scared at first, but as he got closer, I felt better about it. He told me to kneel again, so I did. He touched his snout against my head. When I looked up, he was gone and the cave was as dark as before."

Naverre then clearly knew who she was bearing, and Fowlein knew as well. "I feel... different, Navarre. Almost as if He is still with me. I have wisdom now. And I know that we are now in serious danger. We have to get you out of here. I know a place where we can flee..."

This is where Navarre interrupted. "Wait, why are we in such a great danger that we have to flee?"

"Because the war is coming and you and I will perish if we stay. We must leave..."

But it was already too late. At that moment, the watchdragon came bugling the alarm from the eastern entrance. The dwarves were marshalling on the gates and were beginning to lay siege. The defenses couldn't be activated, for the leader, Fang, was away in the desert. Naverre jumped as the dwarven catapults began pumelling the mountain's side. Fowlein came close to her and spoke in her ear. "Come. I know a way out. Follow me, quickly."

As the pair flew off into the center portion of the hollow mountain, the armies were beginning to organize and take flight. It took all their skill to avoid the commanders, who were particularily harsh about dragons coming to fight. Naverre wasn't in danger because of her pregnancy, but she knew that if Fowlein were caught, there would be no hope for her survival or for the yet unborn Faefnir. She prayed to the Great Dragon for their safety.

to be continued...

oh, not quite. there is a lot more in store for fowlein and navarre.

lol. well, i'm probably gonna do the next chapter today.

Chapter 3

Navarre and Fowlein climbed upward, closer to the high summit of the mountain. Navarre looked back to her home. She knew she was going to return again, but how long that would be was a mystery to her. It was just as they started leveling out that the dwarven armies crushed the gate and poured into the mountain. The sound of dragon battle roars and axes hitting scale and talon filled the mountain and it made Navarre cringe.

Fowlein led her to an empty cavern close to the top. It appeared very extensive and could possibly extend all the way out to the desert. "This cave leads to a mountain range in the center of the desert. The Great Dragon said we could go there to raise the child. There is enough game and water there for us to at least subsist, although He doesn't guarantee a hearty meal. It will be hard, but at least we will survive. Come on."

So they plunged into the tunnel. It was very steep as it went down the outer edge of the mountain. Clearly, the walls were thicker than any of the dragons had anticipated. Several times, Navarre lost her footing and slid down a long ways before Fowlein could catch her. She was relieved as the tunnel started leveling out as they got closer to the bottom of the mountain.

The tunnel was completely underground when they finally got to the base of the mountain. The air was very old and musty, and to make matters worse, there was no light. Navarre couldn't see even two feet, and neither could Fowlein. They decided to proceed forward, staying close to the wall closest to them.

When they had advanced about 500 feet down the tunnel, Navarre suddenly had an immense pain emanating from her womb. She collapsed and couldn't get back up. But just as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone. She got back on her feet and saw something that shocked both her and Fowlein. Coming from her womb was a bright golden light. It was small, but it was enough to light their way at least 20 feet in any direction.

She knew then that Faefnir really was the child of the Great Dragon, for the light was a magical impossibility for any dragon, especially since they couldn't use magic at will in the first place. She took a look around the tunnel and saw what was in front of them.

About 5 feet away was a huge chasm. The bottom couldn't be seen and on the other side was a sheer rock face about 20 feet away, on the very fringes of the light that Faefnir was clearly making. She leaned down to her womb and spoke words to him, not knowing if he could even hear her. "Thank you, my son. You have saved us both." Then she continued ahead.

to be continued...

guaranteed Star, it's going to get a lot more interesting. I haven't decided if I should involve Faefnir's later life as well, after he comes out of the trance that's detailed in the RPG's. What do you think?

*nods* Include it till he falls into the trance. That would be awesome. Not to mention giving Star here ALOT more info on Feafnir's past. *nodnod* *Nudgenudge*

hahahaha. Well, here is the next chapter for you all.

Chapter 4

There was a path to the right of where they were standing. It was the only way out, but it was also very treacherous. It hugged the side of the cliff they were standing on, with only about 7 feet of walking space between the cliff face and the bottomless chasm to their left. Navarre took the lead, since the light emanating from Faefnir was still active. The path didn't seem to lead anywhere, but it was better than attempting to fly when she was egg-heavy.

Fortunately, the path was untouched by time. It had not caved in anywhere and the path wasn't broken in any place, so the only thing they had to do was keep their balance.

They were walking for 5 hours not making any progress it seemed until the light illuminated a welcome sight: a thin stone bridge about as wide as the path. It joined to a platform on the other side where there were three doors. All of them led to a source of light which poured out of them.

When Fowlein and Navarre had crossed the bridge, they were faced with a difficult decision. One of the doors led down, one remained level, and the last led up. Navarre and Fowlein decided to camp there for what they assumed was the night. Navarre slept in front of the right door. Fowlein slept on the other side.

I was going to introduce that actually. much later in the story though, obviously.

Chapter 5

When the morning, or what they assumed was the morning, had come, Fowlein and Navarre continued their trek through... well, where-ever they were. Neither of them knew exactly where in Alagaesia they were, just the way they should go.

Navarre had the most peculiar, yet ordinary dream that night. It was obviously very far in the future, possibly past hers and Fowlein's time. There was a large golden dragon who looked very old and very wise that was staring out into the sunrise. He didn't seem to be doing anything, just staring, as if in a trance. When he finally moved, a smaller, yet plenty large, dark purple dragon shot out from behind him. She was very fast. The golden dragon took off after her and flew next to her for a while, smiling at her. They were obviously in love. Then the golden dragon fell behind her, initiating a mating flight. He moved onto the purple dragon's back and arched her up into the privacy of the clouds. As they broke the clouds, she turned over. The golden dragon roared in happiness.

Then it suddenly stopped there. She couldn't explain it, but the dream was so ordinary, yet it was so unusual in some way. She decided to let time play it out.

It did not take long for them to start angling up. Navarre could see a small light at the end of the tunnel, and she could feel the heat emanating from the exit. They were both so happy to finally be out of there, and Fowlein was sure that it led to where-ever the Great Dragon had instructed him to take Navarre.

When they went through the exit, they gazed upon an amazing sight. It was a mountain, but a small one compared to the mountains they were used to. It was set in the middle of a barren wasteland that stretched in all directions as far as the eye can see. The only change in the landscape was the unusual mountain.

Fowlein told Navarre that the Great Dragon said that he was supposed to take her to "Oasis in the Sand." It was obviously a reference to the mountain, which they knew would have plant life and water, and therefore animals to hunt.

The mountain was farther away then anticipated, so they had to fly for nearly 4 hours to get to it. It normally would have taken two, but Navarre was starting to having pains in her womb, which signified that she was about ready to lay.

The mountain was exactly the way the Great Dragon had described it. It was an oasis. The mountain may not have been tall, but it was very wide. It had a valley in it and the foot of the valley had a waterfall pouring down it. There was lot's of grass and deer galore. Both of them knew that it could sustain them for weeks while Faefnir grew older until such time he was ready to fly and return to the mountain. Navarre and Fowlein christened the desert mountain Stronghold. Then they found a cave near the waterfall where they could rest. So ended their escape from the mountain and hope for the land of Alagaesia was born.

LOL. Lets just say he is... What would Star do? (I'm going for ripping off both his and her wings, leave them in the desert, and fly off in tears towards the mountain. Only to meet Emrhyst there and... Hey, this sounds like one of the Rp openings we were in. )

Chapter 6

A day had passed. Navarre was basically incapacitated, the effects of her body getting ready for the laying process. She just knew that it was only a matter of minutes before the pain came over her and all her muscles would be working to get the egg out of her body.

She had another dream that night. The old golden dragon was in it again, and so was the purplish-black dragon. Except this time, they didn't seem to be mates, but sworn enemies.

The purple-black dragon had a very malevolent look, and so did the gold one. His eyes were blood-red and he was fighting with incredible ferocity. The fight seemed to last for ages. But in the end, the purple female got over the majestic, frightening golden dragon and tore the wings right out from his body. Navarre had never seen such strength to be able to rip wings right out of their sockets.

The golden dragon plummetted to the earth far below and his eyes became a blue color. But his breathing became very labored and he was quickly losing strength. As the purple dragon landed next to him to deliver the final blow, she could hear the golden dragon say one thing: I'm sorry. I have failed you. Then the brightness in his eyes dimmed and he took his last breath.

When Navarre had awoke that morning, she had tears flowing out of her eyes. Fowlein had to come and comfort her. But he didn't know why she was crying. He thought it was because she was scared. In reality, the emotions were so strong from the dream, Navarre had actually thought she lost something.

Navarre was starting to become prepared. Fowlein decided to leave her alone, since it wasn't his child. She was happy that he wasn't there. She was undoubtedly grateful for his help, but she still had no love for him, so she didn't want him observing the birth of a child that wasn't his.

As she could feel her muscles locking up and getting ready for the birth, Navarre took a tree that Fowlein had gotten for her and clamped her mouth around it. On the first contraction of her muscles, she winced terribly, but it didn't hurt. She knew that it was beginning.

Navarre went through 2 hours of torture and gagged roaring before she was finally able to push the egg out. She immediately relaxed and spit the tree out. She didn't have the strength to get up herself, so she called Fowlein in, telling him that it was over and he could come back in the cave. As he walked inside, she asked him to bring the egg over to her. He rolled it over to her, and what she saw astounded her.

Instead of being gold, like she thought it was going to be, since the dragon she saw in her dreams was golden, the egg was a very deep blue that pierced the soul itself. She was confused for a few seconds, but then suddenly remembered the dream from the night before. His eyes had turned blue. So that mystery cleared itself up rather quickly.

The other thing that astounded her was that the egg was rather a normal size. She remembered the golden dragon in her dreams as being very large. But then she also knew that he was very old. He must have gotten that big because he was ancient beyond imagining. So she then knew that her son was going to grow very old and very wise. This heartened her, knowing that he would last far longer than she or Fowlein or any of the other dragons in the mountain.

She slowly got strength from seeing the gorgeous egg before her. She reached out and took hold of it. As soon as she lay her talon on it, something very strange happened. A downpour of memories came upon her. She could see many things, all from a first-person perspective. She assumed she was seeing her son's life before it was happening. She saw the mating flight, the battle, and many many other things she couldn't comprehend. She saw a foul black dragon and herself battling several times with an evil man riding upon the black dragon.

When it was over, Fowlein was asking her what the name should be. "Faefnir," she answered. "He shall be called Faefnir, and he shall be the greatest of all dragonkind."

to be continued...

it was when the both of them went mad. close to the end of "A Plan Gone Wrong." remember, Faefnir died and then you brought both Eriel and me back from the Vault.

Chapter 7

Navarre and Fowlein both resided at the secret desert mountain for 3 days. On the fourth day, it finally occurred. Fowlein and Navarre were out hunting. She had gained strength enough to resume her normal activities again. When they returned to check on the egg, what they saw astounded them.

The blue egg lay on the floor, shattered, the shards scattered all over the place. Navarre became very alarmed and rushed around the cave looking for Faefnir. Then a little growl came from behind her. It was quite familiar from what she heard from the other young hatchlings that were at the mountain.

She turned around and standing on a small rock ledge jutting from the wall of the cave was a young, golden hatchling. His scales shone like the purest of gemstones and his talons and spikes were absolutely perfect, long and sharp. His wings were perfectly proportional to his body and the tail was just the right length. Two of his teeth came from the top of his mouth, just like a normal dragon, and his slightly triangular head wasn't too big, yet wasn't too small. Despite his premature birth, he was a perfect dragon hatchling.

The thing that stroke Navarre the most, though, were his eyes. Just like his egg, they were a very deep blue that penetrated and paralyzed the soul itself. They had the wisdom of one who knows much and the intelligence of the greatest dragon thinkers, yet they had the playfulness and curiosity of youth.

Knowing they were in the sight of greatness, Navarre and Fowlein both bowed to the young hatchling. Then something occurred that astounded them both.

A voice came into their heads, one who knows much, yet still had youth in it. Rise, my parents. You need not bow to me. The voice resounded of strength, intelligence, wisdom, and magnificence. It reflected the independence of their people and could have been the voice of the Great Dragon itself were it not for that touch of youth.

Navarre and Fowlein both rose, their eyes wide with awe and reverence for the hatchling who shouldn't be speaking, yet was.

My father wants to thank you for everything the two of you have done to ensure my survival. He is especially debted to you, Fowlein. Fowlein was a bit put off by Faefnir calling him "Fowlein" despite the fact that he wasn't his father. And dear mother, my father wants to thank you. You have been given a great honor and you took up the mantle with grace and majesty. Navarre blushed slightly. He blesses you with long life and good fortune. He also wants you to know that although I am speaking, I grow just like any normal dragon, so you will have to hunt for me until I'm big enough to fly on my own. Faefnir then walked up to Navarre and nuzzled against her and fell asleep.

Navarre settled down around Faefnir, a protective instinct for mothers and their hatchlings. She looked down at him lovingly, then beckoned Fowlein to join them. He settled down next to them and looked at the sleeping Faefnir. Based on his current state, neither of them couldn't even believe that he had actually spoken to them.

It was at this moment that Fowlein took advantage of the opportunity. He curled his tail around Navarre's and took her hand. Navarre looked into his eyes and was about to tell him to let go of her. But something came across her that moment. As she looked into his eyes, she understood his affection for her. That affection started pouring into her. As they curved their necks around each other in the dragon embrace, Faefnir smiled in his sleep.

to be continued...

Chapter 8

What Faefnir spoke of at his birth was indeed true, yet not true at the same time. He did grow like any normal hatchling. He was able to fly after about one month and he quickly got the hang of hunting on his own, with advice given to him by Fowlein. He couldn't breath fire yet and his body remained just as perfect as it was when he hatched.

But it wasn't true because although he was growing at the same rate, the things he said were completely unlike things normal young dragons would say. He had a strange tradition of waking up at dawn and staring into the sunrise. He didn't appear to do anything, just space out and look into the sun. Fowlein and Navarre had asked him before why he did that, but he merely told them that it was his duty. He didn't say anything beyond that. This cryptic reason almost frightened the pair, but they knew that however mysterious it was, it was for good. For they have observed Faefnir for that month they remained at the hidden mountain, and they knew that Faefnir had a pure heart. He never enjoyed hunting, and when asked of this, he said that he didn't want to cause the suffering of others. They left it at that.

At the end of the second month, Fowlein and Navarre awoke to find Faefnir observing the sunrise as always. When he sensed their presence, he spoke to them. The dwarves have taken the Mountain. They have found the tunnel and are coming this way now. You two, go to the west. There is another mountain range near the coast. Hide there until I come back to get you. When I find you, the war will be over and the Mountain will be ours again. They asked him where he will go. To settle this conflict. Now go. The dwarven armies are less than a days march away.

Fowlein and Navarre took off, looking regrettably back at their young son, who was staring at them from the summit of the mountain. Navarre turned her head forward to get her bearings, and when she looked back, Faefnir was gone. "Don't worry, Navarre. I'm sure he knows what he's doing." Navarre herself wasn't that optimistic. She was afraid that she was never going to see him again. She didn't tell Fowlein this, although it made her feel bad to hide anything from him.

They had to fly for a whole day to get out of the desert. When they landed for their rest, they were on the far bank of a river. What lay before them was a vast plain. Neither of them with all their eyesight could see the other side. They knew that a long flight was ahead of them if they were to make it across quickly.

The next morning, they took off bright and early. They knew that whatever Faefnir was doing, he would probably be staring at the sunrise now. They flew for the whole day and still no sign of the mountains. The next day, though, they could see a mountain range coming in front of them. It wasn't nearly as high as the Mountains, but still a great place to hide. They camped out in the foothills, thankful that they finally arrived at the place Faefnir told them.

lol. well, Star obviously has something within her that made Faefnir attracted to her.

fantastic. I can't wait.

Chapter 9

After Fowlein and Navarre took off towards the mountains far in the west, Faefnir swiftly turned around and went towards the tunnels. He foresaw what was to occur in them. He decided not to even bother, for time can never be changed, he was taught by his father while he was still in the egg. Faefnir went down to the pitch darkness of the tunnels, then spoke some words. His scales immediately began shining brightly. He was able to see for many yards, and anyone else could easily see him as well. Faefnir proceeded down the tunnel.

It did not take long before Faefnir saw several run towards him. They were armed with spears, clad in armor, and were very short and hairy. Faefnir spoke to the dwarven soldiers. I surrender. Take me to your camp so you can execute me. I will not struggle. The soldiers were extremely surprised not by his apparent communication with them, but by the message he told them. They encircled around him. Then the leader stepped forward. He was a rather young dwarf, about 50 years old. He told his men to march forward with their prisoner. The dwarf kept next to Faefnir, his axe always drawn. "I am Hrothgar, dragon. And how may I address you?" Faefnir, master Hrothgar. "Faefnir, why didn't you struggle? All of your people we have captured before always struggled. We had to chain them down oftentimes. But you are walking unchained. Why?"

Hrothgar, you are young. There are some things you cannot understand yet. But I can give you two reasons why I am walking free, yet remain your captive. The first is because you know that I will mean you and your men no harm. You can see the goodness in me. The second is because this is the way it's meant to be. "But what do you mean?" I mean that this is my first act upon this world.

Hrothgar was completely confused by Faefnir's words. Before he could continue interrogating Faefnir, Faefnir started saying something else. My father wishes to let you know that you will be the next dwarf king. The current king will not be living long and he has no children, does he? "N-no. He doesn't." Hrothgar couldn't explain how Faefnir, who was clearly very young and knew nothing about the dwarves, could tell him that not only was the king was going to die soon, that he had no heir, but that he, Hrothgar, would be the next king. He dared to seek an answer. "How do you know?" Because I do.

The response was not surprise to Hrothgar. He had been receiving nothing but cryptic answers from his prisoner. He couldn't wait to get back to the camp so they could execute the nuisance. I know what you're thinking, Hrothgar. "So now you read minds, Faefnir? What next, you're going to actually use magic? As a matter of fact, yes. Then, right when he said that, the roof started collapsing on top of them. Faefnir spoke several words in the dragon language. The soldiers were about to jab him with their spears when the stones from the roof suddenly stopped in midair. I wouldn't poke me with those spears, Hrothgar. If my attention is diverted, the roof will collapse right on top of us. I suggest you and your men get out of this section of the tunnel. I'll keep it up and join you when you are safe. The soldiers and Hrothgar looked around them warily, then proceeded forward into the tunnel. Stop. You are safe now. I'm coming. Then, while holding up the tunnel at the same time, Faefnir proceeded forward. When he had rejoined the dwarves, he let the stones go. They came down on the floor with a great boom.

One of the soldiers went forward to check the pile. "Sir, there must be at least 5 tons worth of rock here. The dragon just saved our lives!" The men looked at Faefnir with awe and surprise. "Why," Hrothgar asked. Because it's what was supposed to happen. I foresaw that occurrance, so I was prepared beforehand. "But why did you save us?" Because it's what was supposed to happen. Hrothgar then knew that Faefnir wasn't going to say much more. "But if you foresaw that, then why didn't you just run and allow us to be crushed?" Because you can never change the passage of time. Now, enough questions. The camp is close, and I'm sure your king would be happy that you captured another dragon. Hrothgar nodded his head, then told his men to keep going forward. It was at that point that Hrothgar, future king of the dwarves, became loyal to Faefnir.

to be continued...

Eh.. So Hrothgar is... about 49000+ years old?!

possibly. the book never mentions his age. and he said he was old enough to remember a time when dragons ravaged the cities and flocks of his people.

Chapter 10
we're in the double-digits now! hooray!

As the dwarven camp got close, Faefnir could see that the army was a lot bigger than he had anticipated. Hrothgar kept close to him, making sure the other dwarven soldiers didn't get too reckless and try to harm Faefnir.

They were brought to the center of the camp. Most of the high-ranking officers were there. Out of the largest and grandest tent of all, an old dwarf walked out. He was dressed in the greatest armor the dwarven smiths had ever forged and in his hand was the mighty hammer, Volund. Hrothgar and his men bowed before their king. Then, to the surprise of all who were there, Faefnir arched his head down. It looked very much like he was bowing before the king as well.

The king approached them, Volund set in his hands as a precautionary measure. "Who are you, dragon?" My name is Faefnir, king of the dwarves. I am here to establish peace between your people and my kind. The king was clearly very distrustful. "How do I know this isn't one of your tricks?" Then he suddenly noticed Hrothgar and his men standing there still. "What are you standing there for? Leave now, your work here is done." The men turned and left, but Hrothgar remained where he was. "Hrothgar, what are you doing? Leave now!"

"Forgive me, sir, but I can't leave him."

"What do you mean by that?"

"This dragon, Faefnir, saved the lives of me and my men. The tunnel was collapsing on top of us. Faefnir held up the roof with magic while we made our way out of that section. I owe him my life for it, my liege."

The king stared at Faefnir, who's expression remained calm, his deep blue eyes always whirling with wisdom unknown in one of his age. "Why would you save my men like that? Who's business is it of your if..."

"Don't bother, sir. Anything I ask him about that is only answered in riddles."

The king payed no heed to Hrothgar's words. "What interest is it of yours to save your captives? So you can gain his loyalty, because you have clearly gained it." Just as Hrothgar said, Faefnir's response was cryptic and mysterious. Because it's what is meant to happen. "So you were supposed to save him?" Yes, master dwarf. "But why didn't you just fly out of there like the cowards the rest of your kind are?" Because that is not what was supposed to happen. "So your omniscient now? Is that it?" No. I don't know all. I just know much.

The king was starting to lose his patience with Faefnir. "Listen here, dragon. No more of these riddles. Give me the truth now!" I have given you the truth. You just refuse to see it. Despite it's obvious truth, the king became angered by this response. "That is enough out of you! Men! Take this... thing... to the holding grounds. We execute him tomorrow at sundown."

Hrothgar became alarmed when the soldiers came out of the tents armed with chains. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Stop! Those are not required!," but nobody payed him any heed. He pushed out of the onslaught that was approaching Faefnir. From the back of the crowd, he could see the golden dragon start being chained down. His wings were bound to the sides so he couldn't fly away. His legs were tied together so he couldn't swipe at them. A muzzle was fitted over his jaw so he couldn't snap at them. This whole time, he didn't struggle one time, but the dwarves were so hateful towards him, they still treated him like he was struggling. When Faefnir was completely chained down, he was dragged to the holding ground, which was behind the king's tent about 25 yards. Hrothgar followed the people dragging him there.

When he caught up, Faefnir's state appalled him. Not only was the muzzle too small for him, but his golden scales were tarnished by the dirt as well. His blue eyes reflected sorrow, but also expectance. It was almost as if he knew this was going to occur to him. Hrothgar approached his side and removed the muzzle. "Why did you let them do it? You could have fought them. Wait. Don't tell me. Because it was meant to happen." You're catching on quickly, master dwarf. You will be a great king when your time comes around. The statement put him off. "How do you know that I will be king? I am just an officer. I don't know anything about leadership or politics or..." That is where you are wrong. You are a great leader. You are loved and respected by your men. And you are strong, intelligent, and wise. Those are the qualities of a great leader. Hrothgar remained silent about this. "What will you do about tomorrow? At sundown, you will be executed." Let whatever comes come. If my fate is to die tomorrow at sundown, then I will accept that fate.

The words sent a spark into Hrothgar's heart. He realized what Faefnir had actually meant. He looked into Faefnir's blue eyes. He could see the age, the magnificence, the pride within Faefnir. Faefnir then nodded his head. You are learning, Hrothgar. You will be king before you know it. Hrothgar bowed his head to Faefnir. "I will not fail you, great dragon." Then he turned around to deliver the task to his men.

to be continued...

Wow! Best chapter you've ever written
Somehow, this reminds me of the Lion,Witch and the Wardrobe...
Can't wait for more

Much obliged, Eriel. I just make this stuff up as I go along. So I'm glad you like it. I'll come up with the next chapter later. Huuuuge writer's block.

OK, the writer's block is lifted.

Chapter 11

Hrothgar entered the tents very discreetly. For a dwarf, he was unnaturally quiet. He made it to his squads tent without being stopped by any of the night guards.

He awoke his men with much grumbling. Several asked if he had gone stark raving mad, and a few others asked if they had been placed on night duty. Hrothgar merely shook his head. "Men, we are freeing Faefnir. He saved our lives and he's paying for it with his head. I won't let that happen."

His second-in-command, Morgothal, was very nervous about this. "Sir, you can't seriously free him! That would be treason! The king will have our heads tomorrow at sundown!" Morgothal, although a brilliant strategist, was a coward when it came to armed combat. He also had a strong animosity towards dragons, which didn't help Hrothgar any in this case.

Hrothgar easily remembered these faults. "Morgothal, I don't care if you are scared or not, but we are freeing Faefnir. Come men. Suit up, arm yourselves. This could be a long night."

The men obliged, although they didn't enjoy having to do a rescue mission after a long days march. The grudginly put on their armor and got their axes. Morgothal, too, got into his armor. When the men were ready, Hrothgar motioned to them to get in their ranks.

It took a lot longer to get out of the camp then it did to get in, mainly because Hrothgar's men were very noisy in their full battle regalia. It took nearly an hour to get past the tents and see Faefnir again. When Faefnir saw them, a glint came to his eyes. Ahh, I see you have returned with your men, Hrothgar. "Yes, Faefnir. We are going to get you out of here." You do realize this is treason. If you are caught, the king will have the heads of you and your men. "It's a risk I'm willing to take, dragon. You saved us back there, and it would be a bad repayment to let you die because of it." When Faefnir didn't say a word, Hrothgar motioned to his men to unchain Faefnir.

When their job was done, Faefnir stood up and spread out his great wings, stretching them. Ahhh, it's good to be free of those chains. My wings were killing me. Then Faefnir made an observation. Hrothgar, when I saved you, I counted 25 men, not including yourself. You're missing one.

Hrothgar immediately knew who was missing. "Morgothal," he mumbled to himself. "I'm going to kill him." The men looked around worriedly, away now that Morgothal was indeed missing. Just then, Faefnir pushed them all into a small circle and curled his body around them. Just as he did that, hundreds of arrows came out of the darkness surrounding them. Several pierced Faefnir's wings while the others merely glanced off of his scales. They were clearly completely surrounded. Hrothgar thought the odds to himself. 25 dwarves soldiers and a young dragon against 10000 plus dwarves. He knew the odds were not good. No place to fly away, and they couldn't fight their way out of the tunnel. "Morgothal, you traitor," Hrothgar shouted.

When the dwarves stopped firing their arrows, knowing they weren't going to do any good, they slowly advanced forward, axes at the ready. At the very front of the advancement was the king, Volund in his hands, and Morgothal walking beside him. "Hrothgar, you have displayed treason to me," the king said. "But if you surrender now, MAYBE I'll spare the lives of you and your men."

Faefnir spoke to Hrothgar, his voice stronger than that of the king's. Hrothgar, if we advance backwards in this same position, we can escape the armies. You remember the chasm from earlier? "Yes, of course. We almost lost an entire forward regiment to that pit." If we go straight back, we will eventually run right into it. Then I can carry you all to the platform on the other side. "But that's nearly a mile and I know you cannot carry 25 dwarves with your claws and back combined." Try me. I know I can do it. "OK, fine. But what about the bridge?" I will deal with the dwarves on the bridge. I can take them all, the bridge is very small. Hrothgar was clearly very worried, but he had learned that you shouldn't question Faefnir on his logic. Hrothgar rationalized that if Faefnir could hold 5 tons worth of rocks with magic, he could certainly carry 25 dwarves. Hrothgar nodded his head. OK, start walking back.

The king was put off by as the dragon started advancing backwards. Thinking Faefnir was in fact a dumb dragon, he motioned to his armies to advance forward and follow them. They all knew of the chasm just beyond the camp edge, so they knew that they could corner the group there.

After they broke the entrance, Faefnir told Hrothgar to start getting his men to cling to him, absolutely anywhere they could hold onto. The majority of the men grabbed hold of his neck and legs. A few with stronger hands grabbed onto the scales on his side and one clung to his tail. Even on the ground, Faefnir could feel the weight of them on his body. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was confident in his ability to fly them across and in their ability to cling to him.

When he got to the edge, Faefnir stopped. The army was only 5 yards away and were starting to jab their spears at him. The king instructed his army to drive them off the edge. When he said this, Faefnir spoke to Hrothgar. Get ready. Hold on tight. "We trust you, dragon." Then hold on. Faefnir then allowed himself to fall off the edge. The dwarves screamed as Faefnir fell down, trying his best to spread his wings. They plunged into the darkness.

The king looked down into the chasm. "The dragon and traitors are dead, men!" The army started whooping and cheering. As the king raised Volund over his head, they heard an immense roar come from below them. The army suddenly became silent. The king looked over the edge again. As he did that, Faefnir came surging up out of the darkness with 25 dwarves clinging to all parts of him like leeches. The king tried to react in time, but on of Faefnir's came up. It knocked Volund out of his hands, then just as quickly as it had happened, his head was lopped off. His decapitated body fell down and went into the chasm.

Hrothgar saw volund go flying out of the dead king's hands. He shouted to Faefnir as the air rushed past him. "Faefnir! We must recover Volund! It is the treasure of the dwarven people, we can't have it lost!" Faefnir nodded his head, then angled back towards where they had come from. Hrothgar, knowing he wouldn't get there in time, used his short powerful legs to launch himself off of Faefnir's side. Hrothgar! Wait! But it was too late. Hrothgar was sailing through empty space towards Volund.

The whole scene seemed to play out in slow-motion even though it had lasted only a few seconds. Arrows were surging past Hrothgar. Faefnir was close behind him. Hrothgar outstretched his hand and arm and grabbed Volund. He started plummetting towards the chasm. As he fell, Faefnir caught up with him and caught Hrothgar on his back, Volund safely in his hands.

Faefnir angled back up and turned towards the opposite platform. It was not a long flight. 5 minutes had passed before the dwarves were able to jump onto the opposite platform. Relieved of the burden, Faefnir relayed his instructions. Hrothgar, go to the Mountain! Get the support of my people and come back here quickly! I'll hold them off here! Faefnir then angled towards the bridge. Hrothgar could just hear him land on the thin stone bridge. He motioned his men to follow him. They proceeded down the tunnel towards the Mountain.

to be continued...

Woo-hoo!
I take back my words
THIS is the best you've written so far.

Chapter 12

The mountains were quite comfortable to Navarre and Fowlein. They were not nearly as high as the Mountain, but there was a certain homely feel to them, something hospitable and friendly. There was a great deal of game to hunt and some of the creatures in them they could hunt for days, since they acted differently than the animals in and around the Mountain or Stronghold.

Navarre was constantly worried about Faefnir. She was afraid that he had doomed himself to death by dwarven axes. But she always had the feeling that he was alright. She couldn't explain it, but there was still a part of him in her that kept them connected. She was still very confused about everything that had occurred over the past two months since Faefnir had hatched, but she learned to just accept it and let time answer all her questions.

That night, she and Fowlein were about to turn in for the night. They were very, very close now. You could say they were starting down to path of mates. Navarre, however much she wanted to deny it, was falling in love with Fowlein. She had truly seen what kind of a dragon he was and she liked it. He was a bit of a follower and less of a leader, but he had a good heart and strong body and mind.

They slept next to each other for the first time since they fled the Mountain. Navarre was becoming receptive to the subtle things. Fowlein was warm and his scales had a certain electricity to them. He knew this already, so he curled up around her to keep her warm.

She rested her head on his chest and rumbled in her throat. He smiled a toothy, wolfish grin down at her. Then he arched his head down and carressed her. Their necks intwined each other in a dragon embrace.

Then, the big moment. All time, creatures, and gods stood still to watch them it seemed. The stars started raining down from the heavens and the silver moon shined high in the sky. Navarre and Fowlein gave each other a tender kiss on their lips. The mountains seemed to rejoice, for all creatures, great and small, started cackling in celebration. So it was the epic romance of Fowlein and Navarre was born, a love that will be timeless and will only end with their end.

to be continued...

Aww... She finally admitted it!

Well, of course. No great story is truly great without an epic romance aside from the central character's. It's actually going to become a central part to the story later on, so watch out.

Chapter 13

When Navarre awoke the next morning, she knew for certain something was wrong. She dreamed that night of Faefnir. He on a stone bridge, very similar to the one they crossed. He was holding off a huge army of dwarves, only barely managing to keep his balance on the thin bridge.

Navarre awoke Fowlein immediately and told him about her dream. He nodded his head, knowing exactly what she meant. They got a small breakfast, then took off back towards Stronghold.

It did not take them very long to reach the lonesome mountain and find the tunnel. But they became very depressed when they found the tunnel caved in. Navarre tried to claw at the wall, but that did nothing. They returned to the surface and decided to return to the Mountain. Navarre was very glad of this. She had been missing home and she hoped it wasn't destroyed.

It took them the rest of the day to get to the Mountain. They found that the dragons had indeed won the battle. As it turns out, the generals figured out a brilliant way to get the dwarves into the tunnels and out of the Mountain. They found a squad of 24 dwarves being held captive by the dragons. Navarre recognized them from her dream and decided to listen to him.

He constantly pleaded that he was there to get help from the dragons, that Faefnir was in trouble. Needless to say, the dragons didn't listen to him. They never knew that Faefnir had been born. Navarre immediately knew she had to step in. She roared at the top of her lungs. The dragons stared at her wide-eyed, thinking that she was dead. But, she was clearly alive and no longer pregnant.

She told them that he told the truth, that there was a dragon holding off the rest of the army and that he needed help. But it was when she told them that he was the son of the Great Dragon did they stop believing her and laughed at her, deep in their assurance that the Great Dragon had abandoned them. She and Fowlein continuously pleaded with them, but they never paid attention to her.

Navarre now understood how deep they were in their savagery. She stomped her foot, then unlocked the gate. The dwarves all clung to her and she and Fowlein flew off to the bridge, the roars of hundreds of angry dragons following them.

to be continued...

OK, that's fine with me.

Chapter 14

As Faefnir left the dwarves behind on the platform, he suddenly realized that this was the beginning of his ascension. His first truly great deed as the Great Son. He landed on the bridge with perfect ease. The bridge didn't even crack under his weight.

The dwarves met him on the thin bridge. Morgothal was standing in front, clearly the new leader of the armies. Probably a promise given to him by the king in return for his loyalty. Faefnir bellowed out a roar to challenge them. Morgothal signaled for the archers to take aim. As they formed the forward ranks, Faefnir prepared himself. During one of his trances, he had learned a method that could keep the arrows off of him effectively. He cleared out his throat, accompanied by a puff of black smoke from his nostrils.

The archers their shots took aim and fired at him. Just like when Hrothgar retrieved Volund from the abyss, the entire scenario seems to move in slow motion. Faefnir took a deep breath as the arrows came closer and closer towards him. Then, at the last minute, he roared so loudly, the walls shook and knocked some of the dwarves off their feet. The force of the roar was so loud, it stopped the arrows in their tracks, almost as if they hit an invisible wall in front of Faefnir. When he was done, the arrows fell helplessly onto the bridge or into the abyss below him.

Morgothal didn't know what to do. He obviously that to charge onto the thin stone bridge was suicide. If a dragon could roar that loud, who knows what else he could do. He ordered the archers to fire again. They were met with the same result: the arrows falling uselessly to the bridge and the dwarves regaining their footing, rubbing their ears in annoyance.

He knew the same thing would happen if they tried to throw spears and they had no catapults available to them, for they were all destroyed at the Mountain battle. Morgothal had no choice but to either charge and hoped the dragon would tire eventually or wait for the dragon reinforcements he would clearly get. Morgothal screamed to charge the bridge.

The result was exactly what he knew would occur. With such a thin area to fight on, they could only get 2 or 3 dwarves to run forward abreast. Each one was merely batted off by Faefnir, sent flailing and screaming into the dark pit.

Eventually, Morgothal though of an idea. If he could get the archers to fire on him whiel he was distracted with the foot soldiers on the bridge, they just may be able to pierce him with the arrows and send him falling. He ordered the archers to fire.

Faefnir saw them get ready to fire at him, but he knew he had to keep his attention focused on the foot soldiers. He had foreseen this occurance. He continued batting away at the soldiers. He heard the twang of the bowstrings. He counted down to himself. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

ROAAAAAAAR!!!!

Navarre and Fowlein came swooping out of the darkness, with Hrothgar riding on her back along with several dwarves and Fowlein carrying the other. Behind them, with a look of fury in their eyes, were the other dragon soldiers, firing burning flames at them and roaring at the top of their lungs.

The dwarves saw the dragons coming and they started to panic. They fled off the bridge, some being pushed into the abyss by their own comrades so immersed were they in their panic. They ran back to the camp in the tunnel. Navarre greeted her son and landed on the opposite platform. Faefnir ran to her, maintaining perfect balance on the bridge. I thought I told you two to stay in the mountains of the west.

Well, we couldn't leave you to die at the hands of dwarves.

Hmhmhm. Faefnir embraced her. Typical of mothers.

It was at this moment that the other dragons landed on the platform. But just as they were about to attack Navarre, Fowlein, and the dwarves, they noticed Faefnir standing there. They were amazed by the dragon standing before them. He was young, but he seemed... different. almost as if he was blessed with wisdom from, as much as they hated to admit it, the Great Dragon. Faefnir spoke to them.

My brothers, I bring a message from my father. You have rejected his philosophy when he created our race all because you thought he had abandoned. He shames you, but he gives you hope through me. I am the Great Son. Obey me.

Then all the dragons, stunned by his words, started bowing before him, giving him the respect he so rightly deserved. And so the Journey of Faefnir the Great began.

to be continued...

Chapter 15

While Faefnir, Navarre, and Hrothgar had gained the respect of the Mountain dragons, there were still work to be done. They all knew that the dwarves will return and even more vengeful than before. Not just because of their humiliating loss by the hands of one young dragon, basically, but also because of the stealing of Volund by Hrothgar. Hrothgar fingered it it lightly, knowing that they will return swiftly to reclaim the Hammer of the Kings from the traitors.

He looked at Faefnir. "Faefnir, you do realize that they will return, stronger than ever. That isn't the only force they have, the dwarven armies number in the millions. And every single one of them will attack us so they can get this back..." Hrothgar gestured at Volund "...and avenge their king." I know. Hrothgar rolled his eyes. "Of course you know. You know everything. Than what do you propose we do, oh Great Son?" Let them come of course.

Hrothgar was surprised at his remark, as was every single one of the dragons there, including Navarre and Fowlein. Fowlein was the first speak. Faefnir, I realize that you weren't at the Battle of the Mountain, so don't think of this as a put down. One army of 10 thousand dwarves broke the walls and got past our defenses as if there was nothing there. I highly doubt the Mountain defenses can hold against millions of them and I don't think we can win this battle. We took many losses and our soldiers are weakened and tired, not to mention the walls can't be repaired in time...

Faefnir interrupted him. That is where you are wrong, Fowlein. The defenses can hold, and they will hold. And remember that we have dwarves with us.

25 dwarves with patrol axes and armor and one with a hammer! How can that help us out, someone shouted.

Because they have knowledge we don't. Hrothgar and his men know more about dwarven tactics than we could ever hope to learn in our entire lifetime. And also keep in mind that I'm here.

You are but one dragon! The mystery dragon stepped forward. He was very young as well, but clearly knowledgable in warfare. This dragon will eventually become the grandfather of Faefnir's mate, long time forward in the future. You can see the future, OK. What else have you done that could make you think that you can repair the defenses before the full dwarven army comes?

It was here that Hrothgar intervened, as is the temperment of the dwarves. "Faefnir here can use magic. That is why he is so confident."

Murmuring fell over the crowd, minus of course Fowlein, Navarre, Faefnir, and the dwarves. How do we believe you? Faefnir then looked at the wall to his right. He murmered several inaudible words. The wall went collapsing into the abyss. The dragons stared at him in wonder. Proof enough for you, Tylanius?

The dissenting dragon recoiled a bit. How do you know my name?

Hrothgar rolled his eyes, knowing the answer that was to come. Because I do. But enough of this. Carry these dwarves back to the Mountain. We have strategy to discuss. Then Faefnir flew off back towards the Mountain. Fowlein and Navarre flew off next, each carrying three dwarves on their back. Then the other dragons flew off, all of them carrying the other dwarves. But only one stayed behind.

Tylanius started grumbling under his breath. Not only did Faefnir embarrass him in front of about a hundred other dragons, but he was becoming jealous of his power. He wanted the ability to use magic at will. He wanted his glory of being the Great Son. He wanted everything that Faefnir had and eventually get. He mumbled to himself in the dragon language. "Mark my words, Faefnir the Great, this isn't over. I will destroy you when the time comes." After this curse upon himself, he flew off and returned to the Mountain.

to be continued...

Hope it's alright if I use family of yours, Star. This will be a central part of the story for a very long time.

Thank you. I'll keep her grandfather's name in there, since the bio only mentions her father and mother.

Chapter 16

When they returned to the Mountain, Faefnir told Navarre and Fowlein to run the reconstruction of the walls and gate. Then he found a cave for himself, relatively secluded, and invited the dwarves to join him in it. Alright, Hrothgar. Tell me what you know.

Hrothgar was never a brilliant tactician (that was the main reason why he got Morgothal into his regiment), so it was difficult for him to tell Faefnir what their tactics were exactly. "Well, I know all the clans are kept seperate from each other. They have their own generals from their own specific clan to oversee them, unless it's the Ingeitum clan soldiers, who are run by the King. I also know that tactics vary amongst the seperate clans." How so, Hrothgar?

"Well, I know the Ingeitum clan prefers close combat, so they are the heavy soldiers and infantry normally. And the Quan clan use huthvir, so they are more involved in reconnaissance and assassination. But the other clans, I don't know much about."

Then one of the soldiers spoke up. "I know the Tarnag dwarves are specialists in metalworking and engineering, so they are used mainly to run the siege machines and occupy cities after they are taken."

Hrothgar asked, "How do you know that?"

"Not all of us fell asleep completely in military tactics class, sir."

All the dwarves laughed at this comment, then got back into business. Hmm, this is valuable information. What about fighting styles and rank formations?

"The Ingeitum clan uses brute strength, whereas the Quan clan fights with flexibility, endurance, and agility. As for formations, we have 3 main ones that are universally used by the clans."

"The first is the basic row. We normally use this one for sweeps and direct fighting, therefore it is the most commonly used. It allows for everyone to keep track of their neighbor and still gives us plenty of space to move."

"The second formation is the column. We use this one for marching and traveling. It's rather ineffective in battle, so I wouldn't expect to see it in the upcoming one."

"The third is what we call the Hammer. It's difficult to pull off, but if successful, the effect is disastrous to our enemies. What basically happens is that all of our infantry pull together and make the forward flank pointed by angling the left and right flanks up. We bait them in by putting our leader at the very front of the point. If they take the bait and charge for us, our leader pulls back into the center of the army."

"Now here is the difficult part. As he does that, the left and right flanks simultaneously curve in on the point. They will eventually make a big circle and completely surround the enemy. Then we basically crush them by continuously going forward and slowly minimizing their forces until they surrender. This tactic makes it easy for us to win and provides no chances for them to escape."

That is what I needed to know. Superb job, dwarves. Now then, if you'll excuse me, I have a wall to build. Then Faefnir left to assist Fowlein and Navarre and the other dragons in rebuilding their defenses. Hrothgar motioned to his men to go out and help as well. As they left the cave, Hrothgar wondered what the dragon was planning. He caught sight of the golden dragon, pushing up on a large stone. "Hey Faefnir." As Faefnir looked at him, their eyes met. Hrothgar was almost paralyzed and couldn't think of what he was going to say. When the spell broke, he remembered what he was going to ask Faefnir. "Why don't you just use magic on that rock?" Now what fun is there in doing something with magic? I like taking the harder route, it makes me work and keep my muscles nice and firm. Hrothgar chuckled to himself, then helped move another rock into place.

to be continued...

Two words: It rocks.

But, isn't this chapt 16?

This is really good! Loving it, please keep it up.

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I've got huge writer's block right now.

Alright, the block is lifted.

Chapter 17

It was just as the the wall was rebuilt that the scout came back with news of the dwarven army. He reported that they were less than a day's march away. Faefnir took immediate action when he was told this by Navarre. OK everyone! Take your positions! They are almost here! He took his command position near the front, along with Hrothgar, Navarre, and Fowlein taking command of their groups. It was only a matter of a few minutes before everyone, male and female alike, had their ranks formed and completely prepared for the assault.

Several tense hours passed before Faefnir heard the dwarven war horns. Steady, everyone. They are at the gates. Remember, this is for the Mountain. It's time to step up and show the dwarves what we are truly made of! So let's beat back these ravagers, these egg-breakers! He was answered by many roars and scattered dwarves shouting with them. They all tensed back up when the dwarven siege equipment started to ram against the wall.

Faefnir, being the true heir to the throne since his father was the one who made the Mountain, was able to trigger the outer defenses. He reached out with his mind and activated them. Faefnir smiled as he heard thousands of dwarven screams, caused by the impaling spikes that came out of the ground. He also heard the battering rams that were trying to knock the wall down splinter and break. The dragons roared in triumph, but Faefnir knew that it wasn't over.

He heard the defensive spikes be broken as the catapults successfully hurled their debris on top of the deadly and effective weapons. In that moment, it almost sounded as though the Mountain cried, for it started groaning. Soon after the spikes were broken, the wall fell, revealing the massive dwarven force. He spotted Morgothal in the back commanding the dwarven forces. He braced himself as they charged the organized dragon/dwarven army. Faefnir arched his neck and roared loudly, stopping a volley of arrows that was fired at them. This stunned the dwarves for a bit. When they came back to it, they charged again. Faefnir reared and roared a challenge as the dwarven army met him. The battle began...

to be continued...

Chapter 18

Faefnir counted their losses. The battle had been long and fierce, by far the most exhilirating experience Faefnir had had so far in his short life.

But however exhilirating the battle was, their victory did not come without a price. Many of the dragons had been lost, not to mention all but 3 of Hrothgar's men, his best and strongest soldiers. Hrothgar himself had suffered an axe injury into his hamstrings. He was currently riding on Faefnir's back.

Fowlein had taken an arrow to his right eye; there was little hope of saving it. Navarre had taken several axe blows to her hind legs and one on both of her front legs. Even Faefnir, in all his glory, power, and youth, had suffered a broken rib. He wanted desperately to heal those around him, but he knew better; he was too young to attempt magic. Besides, he knew that the dragons of the Mountain were strong-bodied. They would all heal quickly enough.

Morgothal, the king of the dwarves, had called for a meeting with Hrothgar, Faefnir, Navarre, and Fowlein. After his defeat at the Battle of the Moutain, he decided it would be best to try to make peace with the dragons. Faefnir almost slew him during the battle, as did Navarre, but for a coward he was a very fierce fighter. He was able to escape both of them. He escaped the battle with a few broken fingers, a broken nose, and numerous scratch marks all over his body.

When the party entered the dwarven camp, or what was left of it, they made way to Morgothal's tent, which stood in the center of the camp. Morgothal exited his tent and bowed to the party, in particular Faefnir and Navarre. "Welcome, Faefnir. As I said, here is my purpose for this meeting: to negotiate on the terms of the treaty of surrender. State your terms."

Faefnir was selected from among them to speak. Leave the borders of this Mountain and never return. Those are my terms.

"Just as I thought you would say. I will oblige to the terms, but I also want some things."

Then state your terms.

"First, I want the hammer Volund returned to our possession. I also want Hrothgar, along with the remainder of his men, to return with us. Those are my terms."

Faefnir decided it wise if he converse with Hrothgar about those terms. Hrothgar, what do you think we should do? Are those terms alright with you?

Hrothgar had learned how to reply to Faefnir with his mind, although only on a rudimentary scale. He had promised himself to get better with it. I fine it, Faefnir. I want return to Farthen Dur and I don't mind sacrificing Volund. If you say true, I will have soon.

Good. I'll tell him we'll consent. Faefnir did so.

"Good. Hrothgar, we pull out day after tomorrow. You won't face any punishment for your treason, since you made friends with the dragons."

"Thank you, my lord." He bowed his head from Faefnir's back.

"Leave now. I hope to see you again on more peaceful terms than this, Faefnir. It truly has been an honor."

Faefnir rumbled in his chest and bowed his head. As with you, Morgothal. Take care, young one. This put Morgothal off, being called "young one" by a dragon who was, in years, younger than he. But eked out a smile, then retreated into his tent. Soon afterward, Faefnir turned his back and started heading back.

Navarre spoke to him first. Sweetie, I'm proud of you. Barely two months old and you have already achieved that which so many thought could never happen: peace with the dwarves.

Mother, it was all because of you. You carried me, you took my father's fancy. If it wasn't for you, none of this could have happened.

Navarre smiled and said nothing afterward. Behind Faefnir, Fowlein and Navarre entwined their tails together.

to be continued...

Really good!

Please don't spam. So you likey the story of your teacher, eh? lol

Yes I do, very interesting.

Chapter 19 (This is a really important one, so pay attention)

Faefnir flew over the desert and the place where his parents fled while he was still in Navarre's womb. He knew the place by heart, and he enjoyed the heat of the sun beating down on his golden back.

It had been a year since peace had been made between the Dragon Fortress and the dwarven kingdom. Morgothal turned out to be an unpopular king since he made peace with the dragons, and several times during the past year he had someone try to assassinate him. However, despite the turmoil within the dwarven kingdom, the Dragon Fortress was flourishing, especially after the recent marriage of Navarre and Fowlein. Many were saying that their love story was one for the ages, and they were going to have the greatest of "normal" dragon hatchlings.

Faefnir was flourishing as well. His size had increased dramatically over the past year, and he just started to breath fire. Faefnir was not searching for a mate, for he knew just who his mate will be and when she will appear. For now, he was content with flying in the desert, hunting, and preparing.
He also discovered his ice breath talent, which he found very useful.

But while Faefnir was away, Tylanius was achieving nothing but mischief. He was starting to spread foul rumors about Faefnir, the worst of them being that Faefnir was a dark dragon disguised as the Great Son. The dragons were reluctant at first, but very soon Tylanius offered solid evidence: his already-massive size, his ice breath, the mysterious nature of his birth. Navarre and Fowlein tried their best to suppress the rumors, but to no avail. Faefnir was in danger from the very people he saved, and it was only a matter of time before the dragons revolted against their true king and drove him away from the Mountain.

The day came on a seemingly normal day in the Mountain. Faefnir and Navarre and Fowlein filed out of the royal chambers to find literally the entire Mountain at their doorstep, with Tylanius at the head. Faefnir had foreseen this day, and he said:

So this is it. You will drive away your king because of a rumor that is completely false. Very well. We will go without a battle. But mark my words, Tylanius and all of you here. I will return, and when I do, I will act as if nothing has happened. I will return. Then he spoke to Tylanius privately.

Tylanius, from this day forward, I declare a blood feud between me and the rest of your family. You are a dark soul, and a foul dragon. You watch what you do from now on, or I will tear your lung out.

Bring it on, fallen king.

Faefnir snarled at him softly, then left. Fowlein and Navarre followed him, knowing they will never be accepted being the parents of Faefnir. They exited through the main gates, with Tylanius glaring at them the whole way. Fowlein and Navarre looked behind them at what was once their world. Mother, father. Don't look back. You will only miss it more. There is a whole world out there that we have yet to see, and you both get the chance to see it. This should be the chance of a lifetime. Navarre snorted. She realized Faefnir was only trying to help them, but it wasn't working much. The trio took off and angled north. That was the last time Fowlein and Navarre would ever see their home.

to be continued...

Chapter 20 (another important one)

Faefnir managed to convince his parents to take him to where they hid while the dwarven army marched on Stronghold. They were reluctant at first, but eventually they succumbed.

While they flew from Stronghold, which is where their new home in exile was, Faefnir was completely astounded by the vastness of the plains between the desert which he loved and the Spine. Fowlein and Navarre, unsurprisingly, thought the plains were nothing new. It took the exiled family two days to cross the plains, flat and vast beyond all measure.

In the site where they camped, Faefnir saw it as a place of great beauty decaying over time. He knew there was a great destiny about this site in the center of the plains. Faefnir kept the spot in mind.

On the second day, Faefnir and his parents arrived at their hiding place. It was an amazing location, surrounded on all sides by mountains except for a beachfront that went down into the wild and majestic sea. A mighty river flowed to their location from the gigantic lake the dragons crossed just an hour earlier. Faefnir loved this location, but knew that his true love, his only real home for the duration of his life, was in the desert.

The exiles decided that they stay there for a few days so Faefnir could take in the entierty of the wild mountain range. However, the night that they arrived, an amazing and influential event occurred, something that would change the fate of Alagaesia and the dragon race forever.

Faefnir couldn't fall asleep, for he could feel in his gut that something was about to occur. Navarre and Fowlein were fast asleep. For some reason or another, the young golden dragon kept his eyes peeled on the sea. It was around 3 in the morning, when all was silent, that Faefnir saw something come over the horizon.

A massive fleet of white ships that seemed to glide perfectly on the water came within sight of the beachfront, and they all drew closer and closer, relatively quickly, to Faefnir's location. Not sure whether to be scared or excited, Faefnir turned around and shook his parents awake. They awoke immediately. Mother, something is coming from the sea. I want you to see this.

Alarmed, both of his parents arose and observed the coming of the fleet. For safety reasons, they kept themselves hidden. But when the ships landed and their passengers showed themselves, all of them knew there was nothing to fear.

The passengers were fair beyond imagining, but they still showed signs of aging. Their long hair flowed gracefully over their perfectly modeled shoulders and bodies. Faefnir's acute eyes could make out the presence of pointed ears.

He loved them immediately. From that point onward, Faefnir sought friendship and loyalty to the elven people.

to be continued...

This story's really cool, ILS. Are you gonna put Phal in it eventually? (I give permission!)

Of course. This is a complete documentation of the life of Faefnir Goldenscales, king of the Dragon Fortress. It's going to have everything, and it's also going to establish a timeline for the all these RPs that Faefnir has gotten himself involved in.

Yay! Just make sure you get the ones I'm in right. I always say Phal's age when I start, except for now when I just say she can breathe fire. You can use Phal's age in each topic to get them in order, I mean, we can't have one saying she's a firebreather and then the next saying she's a hatchling, now can we?! Oops! I'll go away now, this is YOUR story, lol. and it's an awesome story, too!

Back by popular demand! Here is the next chapter in the saga of Faefnir Goldenscales!

Chapter 21

The dragon exiles of Faefnir, Navarre, and Fowlein had been wandering the corners of Alagaesia for nigh over two hundred years. The Great Son of the dragon race was bigger than even his mother and father, and had grown in strength and intelligence as well. Together, they explored the world of Alagaesia from the valleys and forests of the north, to the vast plains of the south, where heat and dryness reigned supreme.

Faefnir observed the elves whenever he could, learning their odd traditions and customs. He also watched with amazement, along with Fowlein and Navarre, the building of the great city of Ileria, which would soon become the black city of Galbatorix, Uru'baen. He saw their rise into immortality, slowly but steadily, and learned the secrets of magic from watching their spellcasters. How they came to harness this ability, Faefnir did not know until many thousands of years later.

It was while they were resting in the desert fortress of Stronghold that Fowlein and Navarre, at long last, had an egg of their own. The flight had taken place three months ago within a great valley that the elves had made for the purpose of stargazing, and they returned to Stronghold when Navarre's belly was getting too large for her to fly around with.

She endured the pain of egg-birth, this time with Fowlein and Faefnir observing and comforting, for the whole two hours of the process. When it was done, a silver egg was at her feet. Faefnir observed the egg of his half-sister and announced this.

The egg of the Great Sister, a dragoness of the stars. She will be powerful in the ways of magic, and I can see a great destiny for her. Mother, Father, I am afraid to say that neither of you will see her in this life. A war will ensure in a couple thousand years, one which will all but wipe out the dragon race. Neither of you will survive, but your daughter shall. She will hatch when her aid is most needed, and she will be the most beautiful dragoness to ever grace this world. Call her Phalynx, an elven word meaning "guide of the stars," for her power shall be a light for those in darkness, and nothing shall escape her vision.

Faefnir looked at his mother for permission, and she merely nodded after looking at her egg. Navarre was willing to accept that she would never see her hatchling in the flesh, at least not in the way she currently is. The knowledge pained her, but hearing it from Faefnir always seemed to make her think it would be alright in the end. The Great Son had a way with normal dragons like that.

Faefnir flew out of Stronghold and set the silver egg against a red pillar in close proximity to his home, where it could be safe from nomads and desert predators under his watchful eye. Sleep well, sister. You will learn much in your solitude, and you will learn even more in life. The time for your coming is far away, and when it is time, your value will be more than you could ever imagine. Faefnir then flew back to Stronghold and left the egg of Phalynx to await her destiny...

This chapter is dedicated to dracoaestas, one of the most active and finest members of the RPG. Enjoy it, half-sister lol

Well, thank you very much, draco. I have a bunch planned for our great golden friend, I just need to find the right words. Thank heavens for imagination, right? Anyways, thanks so much. Positive criticism is what keeps me going with this.