Chapter Eleven.
Gandalf held tight to the dragons crest and the sharp hair behind it, his mind focused on Aragorn, he was slipping... but he seemed fine, at least for now. With a sigh he focused on the ground before them, this had been a very good, and also very bad idea... She cannot understand, he mused, what she has unleashed... A dragon such as this...
"This is not wise Elrond... to create such a thing..." The Elven lord turned silently to the others. "None of this was wise my friends, but all of it was necessary. Ancalagon the Black has left Mordor, and some other dragon must stop his rampage." A low muttering rose from the Elven council. Gandalf and Saruman exchanged glances. In the middle of the circle the egg had already begun to crack. "We took it from a nest in the outskirts of the Misty Mountains, and have kept it alive since then, my friend, if you would please." The Wizard brought his staff down hard, and the egg shattered into slivers. For a moment there was silence, then a soft hissing sound. A pale claw, with talons of midnight, eyes like embers, there was a great cry. "By the Valar! It's Ancalagon's spawn!!" Elrond nodded, carefully, he approached the hatchling.
"You are henceforth known as Anantaboga the White, you will grow to be greater than your sire, and one day, you will take his hoard as your own." The eyes sparked with the intelligence that a dragon has even before its birth, the jaws spread slightly. "If left alone, you will die. For your brethren would kill you fearing what you may become, I will keep you alive."
"And for my life... you will ask what of me, I am no fool elf lord," Elrond nodded, "For your life, and for all you will gain under my hand, your oath I claim. To serve me, and whomever I may one day entrust you to, until you are released by their hand, or the hand of their kin." The dragon raised itself, just large enough to look down on Elrond, it seemed amused, its tail twitching slightly, but its eyes were like ice. "...Very well, Elven Lord, I swear myself to you and those you chose... however..." Its eyes flashed. "I have things I desire as well, and in our agreement, you shamelessly take advantage of me..." The council dared not stir as the beast spread its wings, letting the air dry them. "After my sire falls to my claws, you shall control me no longer, pass me to the ones you will. But our business together, will be finished!"
Elrond stood silent, then nodded lightly. "Very well, after that, you will be passed to another." A low growl filled the air, and they burning eyes glowed red.
"We pass over the Great River; soon we will reach the Dead lands." Gandalf nodded, "Do not go all the way, we must locate the others first. Keep your eyes open for a small company of riders." The dragon roared, and pulling its wings to itself, plummeted toward the river.
Ancalagon the Black: First winged dragon on Middle Earth, bred by Morgoth in the pits of Angband.
Anantaboga: King of the dragons in Javanese wayang tradition. Ruler of the kingdom of the dead.