Chapter Eleven
Tony would never admit how flimsy their plan truly was, he would stick by it with an enviable bravado and certainty that it would succeed, edged by a preoccupation and wariness he wouldn't voice. Tim would admit it after some prodding, but, only if pushed, would he finally concede that they truly had no other plan, no other ideas, and that worried him greatly. Jimmy would admit his fear in a nervous halting manner, doubts of the plan (Not even really a plan, more of a very vague, temperamental approach) spilling forth embarrassingly, pushing up the spectacles Doctor Mallard had gifted to him.
But all would agree that there was no other way to go about this. There was truly, no other plan. No path that forked down the middle and offered another way out. That was all they could think about as they stood at the edge of the forest, early morning dew glinting in the long grass, dampening their shoes and pants legs.
They stared into the shadows of the forest, neither making a move to go in.
"How do we even know the creature has returned to the forest?" Tony questioned after the longest of moments, giving Tim a sideways glance.
"We do not, but 'tis our best bet." Tim replied about as firmly as he could with every sense on the highest alert, sirens within his head silently wailing at their stupidity. Again. He shifted the several quivers of arrows slung on his left shoulder. "Thou injured it, how severely we do not know. But, as we did, it will mayhap will go lick its wounds in a safe place. The forest, in its burrow. Hopefully." Tony looked doubtful, but didn't protest. Instead, he drew his bow out and tossed the other to Jimmy, who fumbled but caught it, determination and fear churning together on his face.
"Come, Jimmy." Tony then gave a closed off grin that didn't reach his eyes. "We have a monster to bait. Stay here, Timmy."
"What?" Tim questioned in surprised. All of them froze as his raised voice echoed slightly in the silence of the newborn day, eyes focused on the forest, peering around for danger. After a second, silence returned as powerful as ever. The tension eased a bit, but no one truly relaxed. After a second, Tim continued, a touch softer. "It makes no sense that I stay here, I should go in and draw out the dragon."
"And in what way does that make sense?" Tony asked, eyebrows contracting. "Thou were injured, Tim, after the first meeting with this beast!"
"The remedy Jimmy gave me is working, I do not feel much of the pain." Tim protested. "Doth thou know where the burrow is, Tony." Tony's lips pressed into a line. Tim knew he was pulling ahead. "I only have one arm in use, and I cannot cover thee when thou art drawing the beast out. But, Tony, thou can cover me." Tim insisted. He then added, "Thou art the best shot." Jimmy nodded. Tony looked unconvinced but worn. Tim tried to smile reassuringly but failed. A painful-looking grimace was produced instead "We do not have another option." Tony ran a hand across his face, covering it completely for a fraction of a second, allowing the mask to slip for a moment. The hand then fell away, and the wall came back up.
"Be quick, and do not do anything stupid."
"I never thought that would come out of thy mouth." Tim quipped, and managed to achieve a smile this time, though it was small and rather sad. Jimmy snorted, and grinned. Tony's eyebrows bobbed up but then he smiled as well.
"Oh. Oh no. I am turning into thee, Tim." He took a few steps back, knelt down, and notched an arrow loosely into his bow. "What horrible thing have I done in life to deserve this?" The grin shrank to a small, calm half smile. It was the kind of look one adopts while waiting for an oncoming storm. One knows it's coming, powerful and unpredictable and just plain mad, and one knows one can't stop it. All one can do is roll with the punches and accept that fact. "Go. I will cover thee, Tim, Jimmy. Remember, keep some distance. I would not like to bring thy remains back to the princess and to Doctor Mallard in the saddlebags."
With two terse nods and no glances back, Tim and Jimmy set off into the forest. Shadows crawled across the ground as the sun rose from the horizon and made valiant attempts to pierce through the foliage above them, casting an eerie green tinge on everything. Tim placed a hand on Jimmy's arm and then headed off in the direction he had come last time, Jimmy followed close behind, eyes wide.
They kept going, over fallen trees and deep gouge marks in the earth made by sharp claws. The crouching figure of Tony soon was hidden from sight by dark, moss-encrusted tree trunks. Tim stopped as a hand lightly touched his arm.
"Look," Jimmy breathed out, voice completely stripped of all emotion. Tim turned and looked in the direction his gently shaking finger pointed to. He gaped. A good portion of the forest far to their left was charred and black trees, branchless and skeletal, falling over on each other. "'Tis unnatural." Tim barely caught the two words Jimmy whispered. That wasn't there three days ago. Tim looked to Jimmy, who looked petrified. They weren't ready. "Thou didst not tell me the thing breathed fire." Jimmy said weakly.
"I did not realize it could." Tim responded, and not knowing what else to do, turned away and kept walking, folding his good arm supportively up against his sling. He picked up his pace considerably. Jimmy stared for a few more seconds but then followed Tim again.
After about twenty minutes, they were practically jogging straight through the forest. Tim began to recognize the part of the forest, his heartbeat sped up. He spotted the dead tree trunk he had walked on then fallen from. He didn't want to go any farther. Tim turned to look at Jimmy over his shoulder and nodded. Jimmy closed the distance between them and matched his slowed pace, hand gripping the bow so tightly Tim was slightly surprised it didn't begin to bend and crack. They approached the log and then peered over it. Jimmy flinched back at first but then crept forward again to join Tim, who hadn't moved, a blazing, determined, rather fearful look on his face.
The dragon was curled up at the bottom, it had wedged itself as far as it could go into the depression and was unmoving. Jimmy swallowed.
"Is it…dead?" Jimmy's voice trickled into Tim's ear. The whisper was hopeful, surprised and fearful, all at once. Tim kept watching. A thin, grey column of smoke wafted from the nostrils of the beast, scales quivered and shifted as a slow breath was released and then drawn in. "Fie upon it." Jimmy swore quietly, and then shakily fitted an arrow into his bow. He turned to Tim. "Ready?"
"As I will ever be. I am glad to have met thee, Jimmy."
Jimmy returned a toothy smile. "And I, thee." He then turned forward and the smile fell away to a frown, concentration creasing his brow. He drew back the arrow, muscles straining at the old practice long abandoned.
The first arrow went wild, sailing far over and out of sight.
The second buried itself almost up to the tail in a nearby tree. Both men froze, but the dragon stayed stagnant, apparently not hearing the dull thunk as the arrow entered the trunk. Tim gave Jimmy a, hopefully, reassuring smile. Jimmy apologized, he had never been the greatest shot anyway, and drew another arrow from the quiver offered by Tim.
The third arrow rapped smartly upon the sleeping creature's scaled head, just below the ruined eye, and fell off to the side. Tim and Jimmy stilled, one large, navy colored eye widened impossibly. Jimmy then roughly jammed another arrow into the bow and fired more than a little recklessly, not wanting to lose the will. This one went true as well, nicking the damaged skin around the eye. There was a deep, low growl that wormed its way into their chests, quickening their heartbeats. The next arrow went father from the mark, glancing off the beast's back. Tim glanced at Jimmy, who looked ashen but emotionless, hands shaking as he fit another arrow in. They both began to back up.
The endless purr grew in strength until it was almost a roar, leaves vibrated above them, falling before their time. The next arrow went too far to the right, glanced off of a tree and, with incredible luck (Good or bad, Tim didn't know which), nestled into a bare spot between claws. Tim's eyes widened. He grabbed Jimmy's arm and roughly pulled him away. They began to run, slipping, almost falling, regretting, achieving. The world exploded in noise.
Jimmy slowed to attempt to cover his ears, but Tim didn't release his arm, pulling him bodily forward and forcing him to match Tim's frantic pace. They had a considerable lead, and the beast was injured, but it wouldn't last for too long. Maybe, if they were lucky, long enough to take advantage of Tony's fire. Tim's own eardrums burned but his only usable arm was already towing Jimmy, spikes of pain jumped up his broken arm with every jostle even with the pain reliever. This noise was unlike the ones he had heard before, it was the screech of a creature that had nothing to lose, that would dive over the edge of the world to end its attackers, that would die trying. Despite the pain, Tim picked up his pace.
Lumbering steps far behind and the crash of trees, were strangely reassuring. Something was actually going right. A ragged laugh was torn from him; Jimmy spared him an alarmed look. Tim never thought he would see a day where he was actually glad a gigantic, murderous beast was chasing after him. How strange life was. Or at least his life.
The tree line was in sight now as both men leapt over a fallen tree trunk, cumbersome armor clanking together.
"Tony!" Tim shouted, panting doggedly. "Get ready!" There was no answer but Tim knew Tony had heard and was waiting. They were beginning to slow now, winded and weary. Tim glanced behind them and almost choked. The lead they had acquired was being eaten up at a great speed. He forced himself, and consequently Jimmy, who he had yet to release, to run faster, it felt like adrenaline had replaced blood in his veins now. They broke the tree line, Tim finally relinquishing his hold on Jimmy, and slid across the grass, past a crouching Tony. "Now!" Tim screamed, but he didn't need to, Tony knew what to do.
The beast leapt out of the forest, maw wide-open, single eye wide and burning. Tony waited a second and released the arrow being drawn on the bow, arms quivering slightly in exertion. The arrow buried itself deeply into the unprotected underside of the dragon. As did the next a second after, and the one after that. Dark, skeletal wings snapped open mid-leap, and with a screech of pain and rage, the creature glided up.
Tim and Jimmy lay panting on the grass for a second, Jimmy then sprang up, drawing his own bow, and reaching behind to the quiver hung on his shoulder for an arrow. Every single thing about him at that moment suggested that this was a nightmare he couldn't wake up from, but that he would die before he allowed his friends to get hurt. He and Tony stood side-by-side, arrows aimed at the sky, bows taut. Jimmy, afraid, Tony, resigned. Tim wished they had never come. He wished he had had the backbone to say no, or to slip out quietly one morning and do this alone. Then no one would get hurt. Well, almost no one.
The dark shape of the dragon wheeled around in the grey, cloudy sky and came rushing back, diving toward them at great speed. Tim struggled to his feet, every part of his body crying out, it was still too soon since the last abuse it endured, though his arm was the worst. If he could just lie down and quietly pass out, it would be all his birthdays and Christmases thrown together and wrapped with a red bow. But that wasn't an option. Tony and Jimmy began to fire, Tony with experienced, quick, powerful pulls, Jimmy with novice, shaky motions but enough determination and desperation to make up for it.
The creature was swooping down now, claws extended forward. All three men dived away, last fired arrows spiraling off wildly into the sky. The dragon barely missed them, the tip of a claw just clipping Tony's helmet. It ploughed into the ground, showering dirt everywhere, and then turned, muscles rippling with every step. Tony took aim from the ground, firing at the belly again. Tim quickly moved up to spot close next to him, handing over arrows just as quickly as Tony could shoot them.
There was a low threatening rumble of thunder as anvil-shaped clouds drifted above them, and the first of a thousand raindrops began to fall. The dragon reeled back from the onslaught, tail curling tight around itself, shielding the stomach. It was weakening, blood soaking into the earth. Arrows pinged harmlessly off scales.
"I do not have any shot!" Tony yelled, and Jimmy stopped haphazardly firing long enough to concur with his statement. The creature was learning. Tim handed Tony another arrow and tossed away the empty quiver, taking out another, gears turning in his head.
"Mayhap, I could-" The words shriveled up and died as he saw the dragon open its mouth. It drew a deep breath that ballooned out its body. Burned forest. Tim's eyes widened. "Move!" Surprised, Tony and Jimmy looked toward the dragon. Jimmy understood immediately. Tim grabbed Tony's arm and pulled him one way, Jimmy rolled another, fire poured from the dragon's mouth. The field burned with red flames, spreading quickly throughout the tall grass.
Tim and Tony collided together on the ground and saw, in open-mouthed astonishment, the flames jettisoned forth onto the field. They scrambled back, away from the unnaturally spreading fire. Tim was partially glad, somewhere deep within his mind, that they hadn't been able to really fix his chest plate; cooking to death within his armor wasn't something he would find incredibly pleasant. They spotted a terrified looking Jimmy a few yards away, jumping back to avoid the fire crisping the grass.
The sky took then took this chance then, in a very brief moment of absolutely fantastic luck, to open up and shower. Rain pinged off their armor, soaking them, and dampening the fire, which sputtered to a flicker and was then put out. The dragon saw this and crouched even more, looking furtively from Tim and Tony, to lone Jimmy.
"Thou had a plan?" Tony asked Tim, drawing his bow again. "Because our supply of arrows is dwindling, and we need a good idea." Tony fitted another arrow wearily into his bow. "We need it to expose its stomach."
"Um," Tim's eyes flicked around and then settled back on the dragon. "Nothing foolproof." Tim dropped the remaining quiver of arrows he held and drew his sword, though he felt naked without his shield. Or an arm to actually hold his shield. Before Tony could object, he charged out, sword held high, feeling like an idiot. The dragon watched him as he flew closer and slowly uncurled.
Tim, instead of stopping, kept going forward and slashed down upon the beast's nose and backed up as quickly as he could have come. It lashed out at him with a claw, Tony began to fire. Tim dived away, black dots swarming in front of his eyes as he hit the ground again, resisting the urge to lose consciousness. He swung his sword again, glancing off of hard scales. He rolled away as it tried to crush him. The dragon staggered now, arrows sticking out of its belly. It had turned into a glorified pincushion. Tim retreated, sword sagging to his side. The dragon lurched after him and did a final lunge.
Arrows flew above him, and without thinking about it, Tim drew out Ziva's dagger, rubbed it in his hand, and then threw it with an accuracy he didn't have usually. The dragon collapsed to the ground, rolling onto its side, and gave a final heave of breath. Tony and Jimmy stopped firing, and there was no sound except for the taps of rain on metal. The dragon didn't move, the huge body uncomfortably on its side.
"Tis…dead." Tony said after a second. He approached the body and then nudged it with a toe. It, remarkably, did nothing. Tony turned. "Um, well done, Jimmy, Tim." After a second, bright smiles broke out on wet, grimy, weary faces. Tim found himself in the middle of a mix between an enthusiastic, relieved group hug and a manly, rather gruff handshake. A smile slipped onto his face.
They had done it.
An even bigger smile broke his face in two. He had a wedding to go to soon.