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tolkienshortfanworks2025-01-04 12:22 pm
hhimring) wrote in tolkienshortfanworks2025-01-04 12:22 pm
Scatha's Bed, by Himring
Author: Himring
Title: Scatha's Bed
Characters: Scatha
Pairing: n/a
Text type / Format: ficlet (with list of ingredients)
Source / Fandom: Lord of the Rings; Collected Poems
Rating: Teens
Warnings: canonical dragonish behaviour
Word Count: c. 120 words
Summary: Like Smaug, Scatha, ice drake of the north, keeps track of his hoard.
Author notes: For the January challenge (small comforts, list of ingredients). Inspired by my discovery of Tolkien's poem about Scatha in the recently published Collected Poems (I'm afraid those bones are canonical even if their exact number is not).
Scatha was icy and silent and he was blind. He advanced like bitter frost, a slow crawling death, and crushed all living things he encountered under his long white belly. In his dark den he rested and licked the bones of his victims smooth and clean.
Seeing nothing, Scatha knew well what made up the pile of spoils that formed his bed, knew it by smell and by feel of tongue and belly:
- one hundredweight of unminted gold
- ten thousand and eleven coins (twenty percent mithril)
- nine hundred and sixty sharp bright stones (colours various)
- necklaces (one gross)
- one ton wrist and finger bones of dwarves (assorted)
- seven score skulls of Men
- one horn (dwarven).
Scatha liked his small comforts.
Title: Scatha's Bed
Characters: Scatha
Pairing: n/a
Text type / Format: ficlet (with list of ingredients)
Source / Fandom: Lord of the Rings; Collected Poems
Rating: Teens
Warnings: canonical dragonish behaviour
Word Count: c. 120 words
Summary: Like Smaug, Scatha, ice drake of the north, keeps track of his hoard.
Author notes: For the January challenge (small comforts, list of ingredients). Inspired by my discovery of Tolkien's poem about Scatha in the recently published Collected Poems (I'm afraid those bones are canonical even if their exact number is not).
Scatha was icy and silent and he was blind. He advanced like bitter frost, a slow crawling death, and crushed all living things he encountered under his long white belly. In his dark den he rested and licked the bones of his victims smooth and clean.
Seeing nothing, Scatha knew well what made up the pile of spoils that formed his bed, knew it by smell and by feel of tongue and belly:
- one hundredweight of unminted gold
- ten thousand and eleven coins (twenty percent mithril)
- nine hundred and sixty sharp bright stones (colours various)
- necklaces (one gross)
- one ton wrist and finger bones of dwarves (assorted)
- seven score skulls of Men
- one horn (dwarven).
Scatha liked his small comforts.
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(also, congratulations on the (probably)-first!
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- Erulisse (one L)
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The poem makes very clear that Tolkien thought Scatha was one of the more horrible kinds of dragon! I added in the counting idea from The Hobbit, of course, but I'm glad that worked for you in bringing out the horror.
(This also was totally not the kind of thing I was originally thinking of when I selected one of Lferion's suggested prompts for this month's challenge!)
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Eeeee. *shudders*
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His creature comforts. I never thought of dragons in that way, but yes, I guess all creatures enjoy their comforts, in whatever form they take. Even those that make other creatures extremely uncomfortable (often to the point of death). I like the way the bones are included in his hoard, not just gems and gold.