A Beginning, An End

“Your sorry shortsword slew no dragon on my watch,” she said, her words as biting as the sword she spoke of.

“It drew no blood, I confess, though it’s an insurmountable feat when the dragon has been slain by every man across the land,” Berin countered.

“If only you spoke true, though I dare wager any other man would provide a finer opponent than you,” she scoffed, with no sign of dullness creeping into her words.

“Your tongue is sharp, my dear, perhaps sharper than the ears that bookend your head,” Berin replied.

“I am pleased to hear you admit that I possess something that you lack, a point,” she glanced at him, her emerald eyes burning, “yours expired when you sired our daughter, your one great feat, though I daresay she will grow to regret her heritage from you.”

“How can it be so that such fiery words eminate from a frozen heart such as yours?” Berin continued, “though I do believe the only regret she’ll grow to have is being unable to see you draw your last icy breath.”

With that, Berin’s wife stormed out of the cabin. ‘To the tavern again?’ he wondered, ‘shes done so a lot in recent weeks. One too many nights there, I reckon, and one too many knights!’ A clever riposte, if only he’d thought of it sooner. The self-indulgent smile brought on by his own wit quickly faded to a sudden realisation. For the longest time, he’d felt nothing but love in his heart for her, though now he could feel it laced with contempt for the first time. ‘Is this union worth preserving,’ he pondered, ‘if it shall only lead to more bloodshed as we sling arrows at one another daily? I dread the thought of my daughter being caught in the crossfire.’ He crept slowly, into her room, surprised that she had not been roused by the battle commencing beyond the door. He gazed at her for a while, his wife’s words still yet ricocheting around his mind. ‘Perhaps she’s right,’ he thought solemnly, ‘why ever would she be proud to call me father? Why, I’m but a lowly merchant.’

Lowly, as he may be, but alive nonetheless. Berin retreated to the central room, fixed himself a mug of ale, and proceeded to stare out of the window. Fixated on the horizon, wondering if there was something out there that could rekindle his quenched desire for life. Wonder, he did, until wonder gave way to sleep.