A Hero of the Day by Robinka

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A Hero of the Day

This is another story written for my ongoing personal challenge "to get Beleg shirtless as quickly as possible" ;)

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The bumblebee that landed on the wooden bench buzzed aloud for a while and its transparent wings moved quickly. Then, the insect stopped as if resting, but soon started an odd ritual of scratching its legs across its striped body.

Sitting on the same bench, Beleg looked down on the bumblebee, stopping mid-motion in his task. He smiled, as if at his small, colorful companion, but most likely to himself because the insect was rather unaffected by his proximity, let alone by any signs of kindness. It just went through its routine, and Beleg sighed, turning his gaze back to what he was doing.

Beleg had a bow placed on the other side of the bench, the bow newly made of ash wood, and it needed a bowstring. He had prepared a sheep sinew for that specific purpose, had tanned and dried it, and now he was about to attach a long string to both ends of the bow, tie the string and try the weapon out at the practice field.

He whistled as his fingers made short work of tying the bowstring onto one end of the bow. The bumblebee buzzed in tune as if it wanted a duet.

Then, the door to his right opened, and out of the corner of his eye Beleg caught a figure stepping outside. The bumblebee flew away with a loud buzz.

“It is way too hot today,” Mablung mumbled, most likely to himself, still Beleg could hear him. Beleg only smiled and said nothing.

Mablung sat on the bench beside Beleg. Here, outside the main quarters of the marchwardens of Doriath on the Northern Marches, the edge of the sloping roof of the building gave a little shelter from the scorching sun. Who, Beleg thought looking up and squinting his eyes, must have wagered with somebody that she would burn everything down to the last tuft of grass. To the last leaf to fall; to the tiniest bit of thirsty soil.

“Where are you?” Mablung elbowed Beleg in the ribs. “I’ve been telling you…”

“I’m sorry,” Beleg said as he turned to Mablung. “You were saying?”

Mablung stretched out his legs as he leaned against the beams of the wall behind his back, and then crossed his legs at the ankles. He took a gulp from the mug he was holding and then he wiped his lips with the back of his other hand.

“Actually, no, I said nothing.” He grinned at Beleg.

Of all his comrades, Mablung had the greatest sense of humor and was prone to joking around, making fun of other people, and had tricked Beleg a few times – well, Beleg sometimes let Mablung trick him, to be entirely honest, but he kept that little secret to himself – so such a response didn’t surprise Beleg at all.

“So what would you want of me?” Beleg asked.

Mablung drank another swig of his beer. As Beleg recognized, it was a light brew made of wheat, very refreshing on such a hot day, but not without a tiny bit of alcohol.

“Some nice company in my miserable life,” Mablung said with an exaggerated sigh as he raised his gaze to the sky. Beleg smirked.

“Why would you deem your life miserable?” he asked.

“Why?” Mablung took a generous gulp and in doing so he drained the mug, looked inside with a look of utter disgust on his face, raised it again and and shook the last few drops into his mouth. Then, he set it on the bench, grumbling, “I don’t like empty dishes.”

“Yes, why?” Beleg continued asking as he kept on attaching the bowstring to the other end of the bow. “Ah, I know, yes.”

Mablung seemed uninterested in Beleg’s assumptions at first. He stretched himself again, put his crossed forearms behind his head as he leaned against the wall, and crossed his legs again at the ankles. In that comfortable position, he turned his questioning look to Beleg.

“You cannot wait until Súllinn comes back from her leg of patrol with young masters Huor and Húrin.” Beleg grinned because he knew he was right.

“It is a miracle that they came back home from wherever they had been safe and sound, isn’t it? And using such an unconventional way at that!”

“Indeed,” Beleg confirmed.

He remembered the quest that he, alongside Mablung, Súllinn and Brandor, had undertaken in their need to find the two Haladin boys. For three handfuls of days, they had been searching for them, looking in every hole in the ground, under every bush, into the lairs of wildlife and down the riverbanks. They had found nothing. And Súllinn had let no one persuade her first to stay at home due to her wounds, then to go back to Menegroth because their search had been in vain. She had told them to mind their own business, mildly speaking, but her wounds, which were still fresh, had finally taken their toll on her.

Beleg had even had a stinging remark about a famed Noldorin temper ready to roll off his tongue, but he had decided to let Súllinn’s words slide. In fact, she had felt guilty, and when the young lads had appeared on their father’s doorstep, clad as princes would be, in one piece, or two pieces to be precise, and the news had reached Menegroth, Súllinn’s guilt had evaporated, but the need to compensate for her so-called failure had remained ever since.

So she had acquired permission to invite the young Haladin to the Northern Marches and she was their guide while they learned about the life in Doriath and on the borders.

Apart from that, Beleg thought, life continued as it should. Wardens went on patrols, scouts went seeking information, cadets learned the craft, and Mablung couldn’t wait to take his beloved redhaired warden into his arms just as much as Beleg would love to see Miniel.

For the time being though, they both sat on the bench, Beleg busy with checking the flexibility of the bow and Mablung, apparently, with daydreaming. Beleg put the bow aside against the wall and walked into the building in search for something to drink, preferably cold, because the heat seemed hardly bearable.

When he found a waterskin, he drank eagerly and left it half empty, then he took off his shirt because it clung to the skin on his back. He swept the fabric across the back of his neck before he tossed the shirt onto his bed.

He could as well continue his task barechested he decided and turned to walk outside.

Once he stepped over the threshold, he saw a woman standing in front of him – someone he didn’t quite expect to see here because she was known for preferring solitude and very seldom seeking the company of her people.

“Beleg.” She gave him a curtsy and didn’t even look at Mablung, who in return didn’t seem to notice her at all.

“Nellas.” Beleg greeted her with a small bow of his head. “What brings…”

But she interrupted him by shaking her head, then she moved as if to go and gestured for Beleg to follow her. He raised a brow at her attitude, still she ushered him on, waving her hand and stepping away onto the path.

Beleg turned his head to look at Mablung, but he only shrugged.

Nellas was already on her way down the path and Beleg followed her, wondering what she was up to. Luckily, he thought, she seemed to be leading him into the forest, or at least toward the outer buildings of the wardens’ settlement, where on the edge of the wood the trees, their branches and leaves gave the most welcome shadow to keep the sunlight away. She was fast, Beleg thought, and quickened his pace. He almost caught up with Nellas when she turned toward an unused, actually almost forgotten, shed that stood next to the fence. A tree had grown through its roof, nearly bringing it down.

“There,” she whispered as she pointed at the door of the shed.

And she simply walked away without further ado, leaving Beleg in the middle of the path and with a riddle to uncover.

Beleg wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He wasn’t really in the mood for mysteries. Yet, if Nellas, who seemed a walking mystery herself, had decided to show up in the wardens’ humble abode, there must have been a reason behind it.

He stepped forward and pushed the door open, walking into the dim light and dust dancing in the few rays of sunshine that fell through the window on the other side of the shed and the hole in the roof. A bird flew up from a branch of the tree with a flutter of wings, apparently scared off by Beleg’s sudden appearance, and left a feather floating down in the dust and onto the ground.

Beleg looked around. And listened carefully. And breathed in deeply.

There was something in the overwhelming smell of dust, something distinct and disturbing at the same time. And it was the scent of blood.

Beleg slowly turned. Very slowly. He made no other movement. Then, he heard it.

Growling.

Quiet at first, but louder and louder as Beleg turned and stood facing something that was making the noise. He couldn’t see it yet, but listened to the threat in the growl and understood it perfectly. If he moved a bit more, he would be attacked. Beleg quieted his breathing and stood, but the growling didn’t abate.

It was an animal, Beleg was sure. And a wounded one at that, which made it extremely dangerous. Beleg was estimating his chances of escaping as he looked out of the corner of his eye at the door to his left, then up the tree. How quick could the animal be? And most importantly where was it since he couldn’t see it, even though his eyesight had accommodated itself to the scanty light in the shed.

The growling stopped, and instead of attacking, Beleg realized that the animal – a wolf probably – was panting. He breathed in deeply one more time, and in the scent of blood he recognized a tang of slime. The sound of panting turned into one of lapping, that lasted for a while. Beleg didn’t move, but in his mind an idea as to what in truth was hiding, and happening, in the darkest corner of the shed, formed. He smiled.

Again, he slowly turned and took a step toward the door. Once outside, having walked back into a wave of heat and bright light, he broke into a run back to his quarters.

A few people moved out of his way in haste as he ran toward the main building. No one said a word. Even Mablung, who was usually first to pose questions and who had started on Beleg’s abandoned work of checking the bowstring.

Beleg walked into his chamber and found the waterskin. Now he only needed a bowl.

Fully equipped, he ran back toward the shed, and this time round, too, a few people moved out of his way, yet they were apparently curious as to what made Beleg run back and forth through the settlement. He didn’t bother to reply though and went on. There would always be a time for answers later.

Approaching the shed, he slowed down and stopped in front of the door. He uncorked the waterskin by pulling out the cork with his teeth, poured the water into the bowl that he was holding, then he stuck the cork back into the hole, pushed it deeper by hitting the neck of the waterskin against his hip, and finally he swung the string onto his shoulder. Then, he opened the door.

Inside the shed, dust was still dancing in the dim light peering in through the window and the hole in the roof, and there was still the scent of blood and other bodily fluids in the air, but there was no growling to be heard. Beleg moved slowly, very slowly into a crouch, and he was faced with a pair of glowing eyes, yellowish in the dark.

“Hello,” he whispered.

He heard a quick, warning growl, but then, when he very, very slowly set the bowl of water onto the ground, there was something akin to sniffing that reached his ears.

A shape moved toward his hand that was still holding the rim of the bowl. More sniffing, and yet more, and the shadowy shape morphed into a snout with rapidly moving nostrils and whiskers, and soon a tongue dipped into the bowl, lapping the water with more speed than Beleg expected. Water splashed, but Beleg didn’t move his hand backward. He didn’t want to scare the animal and risk a bite.

Yet he risked sitting on the ground. He looked closely at the animal and thought it was a dog rather than a wolf. Its head seemed less triangular, he noted, but he couldn’t analyze it further because the dog moved backward, but not too far away, stuck out its tongue and panted.

Beleg pulled the bowl back, slowing his motions as much as possible, but he neither felt nor heard a threat from the dog. He poured more water and set the bowl back on the ground.

Then, he heard rather than saw that the dog moved away and started lapping, and he realized that from the corner where the dog lay tiny whining voices could be heard.

Well, he was right when he had earlier thought that this was a female giving birth to her litter! Hence the smell of blood in the air, and he had intruded upon her time of labor, but she might have accepted his presence now when he had given her some water.

Still Beleg decided to leave the full bowl and get out. He understood that the mama dog needed peace and quiet to nurse her young. It was her business alone, and he had nothing to do here, so he moved onto his knees with the intention of leaving the shed and the mama dog to her own devices.

“Take care,” he said in the general direction of the dog, and her eyes flashed toward him, a quiet yelp could be heard and something that sounded like sweeping the floor. Beleg smiled. It might have been her tail wagging on the ground.

It was when he had stood up and turned to the door, that he heard a scraping sound behind his back and a growl, far more feral and louder than before, guttural and preaching death to anybody in the close proximity. Beleg froze and felt the hair on his nape rising. In the blink of an eye, he imagined, and expected to have, canines sunk in it, ripping his flesh inside out and spilling his blood.

He was preparing to wrestle the dog off his shoulders. Or at least to throw the empty waterskin at her because that seemed his only reasonable way to defend himself. Or to just run for his life, because with no fangs and claws, a fight with a livid female defending her litter was rather hopeless.

But nothing of a gory sort happened, and Beleg heard footsteps coming toward the door of the shed.

The footsteps that the mama dog had heard way before he did.

“Beleg, what are you doing there?” Mablung asked from the outside.

“Stop!” Beleg ordered. He looked down, having heard another noise behind him.

The mama dog had crawled out of her dark corner and came to stand next to Beleg, even a bit closer to the entry than he was, and she was still growling.

“Beleg?” Mablung asked.

“Stay where you are,” Beleg replied. “I’m coming out right away.”

The dog quieted, then she stepped backward, apparently sensing no further danger, and the yelping from the corner, the sound of her young calling out to her, was louder.

Beleg pulled the door open.

“What in the…” Mablung tried to ask, but Beleg only shook his head.

“Be-,”

“Later.” Beleg interrupted by grabbing Mablung’s shoulder and pushing him to turn away from the shed.

Mablung only nodded and let Beleg walk away, but his curiosity remained as if hung in the space between them. Beleg returned to his quarters, pondering whether to let the dog stay with her newborn in the shed or to take her to his quarters. For now, it seemed, the safety of the litter was a priority, so he decided to let her be. She would do her job, and he would give her something to eat, so that she wouldn’t need to hunt, and maybe he would patch up a box for the young to sleep in.

Or maybe he would fix the shed so that she could live there, he wondered. It surely had needed a thorough repair for a time, and there had always been something more important to do than fixing an old shack.

Maybe she would stay on? He certainly wouldn’t mind that.

With that in the back of his mind, Beleg went seeking something for the dog to eat. He found another bowl, into which he put a good chunk of raw meat, a few cubes of white cheese, a spoon or two of porridge, and a little bit of roast vegetables.

When he was on his way back to the shed, behind him a few people gathered and followed, but he still pretended he didn’t see them. Mablung was right behind Beleg when he stopped in front of the shed and turned back to those who had come in his wake. Beleg looked around and shook his head smiling.

“There is no way to keep anything in secret here for a long time,” Mablung admonished him. “So, Captain, what’s in there? We would very much like to know.”

“Just keep quiet, all right?” Beleg said and slowly turned. He set the bowl onto the ground, then he pushed the door a little and whistled.

Soon, a nose came sniffing into the doorway, then a brown paw appeared edging the door open, scratching the wood in the process. Beleg took a few steps backward motioning for everyone to step back as well.

The mama dog stuck her head out through the hole and sniffed wildly, then she opened her mouth, panting, and a long, thin stream of saliva oozed from her snout. She must have been very hungry, Beleg thought, but uncomfortable and unsure as well, since she lowered her head, going no further, and sniffed, smelling not only the food, but the people close to her and her litter, too. She drooled and her nose kept on working. Beleg gestured for everyone to back further down, quietly and slowly, and to his surprise the mama dog came out of the shed, without a growl, but with her tail glued to her backside, and did more sniffing.

She was a big dog, honey-brown, with long feathery coat and ears flat on her skull. Slowly, she stepped toward the bowl, but halfway there, she lowered her head again, then she sat down and exposed her swollen belly, with glands heavy with milk, yawning. Then, she panted.

Smiling, Mablung gave Beleg a few pats on the shoulder, then he nodded for the rest of the wardens to go away, leaving Beleg and the dog alone.

“All right, mama, you can eat now,” Beleg encouraged her, to which she responded by wagging her feathery tail.

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Chapter End Notes

Cast:

Súllinn – one of the marchwardens of Doriath. She is half Noldorin. In the Battle of Brethil, she was in charge of the group that was with Huor and Húrin when they were attacked and the boys were lost. Mablung is in love with her.
Miniel – a librarian and pastry chef in Menegroth. She is Beleg’s love interest.
Brandor – one of the marchwardens of Doriath and Beleg’s subordinate.

Thank you for reading!