Maiden Fair
#5 of Original Stories
Rosalind wants nothing more than for her knight in shining armor to come sweep her off her feet. The problem is that the kingdom seems to have no suitable knights at all. And her problem is about to become everybody else's problem, especially the problem of the nearest dragon.
Another entry in the Maiden, Dragon, Knight series. This time it's definitely not the maiden who needs saving!
One of my rare attempts at doing comedy.
Her skin was as white as fresh cream, pale and perfect. There were no blemishes, not a mole, not a freckle, and not even the slightest hint of a wrinkle. Her eyes were sky blue, cool and lovely as still forest pools. Her lashes were long and lush, and darker than they had any right to be, for her hair was the color of spun gold. It fell in perfect, shining waves around her shoulders, held back from her face by a thin band of metal that was scarcely more bright.
She flipped it over her shoulder, and the perfect pink bow of her lips pouted unhappily.
Her father sighed and ran his hands through his own graying locks, his crown set aside now that the audience was over. "And what is wrong with this suitor?"
"He's just a boy!" she said, with a little stamp of her foot and a look of scorn.
"You're not exactly an old woman yourself, Rosalind," said the king tiredly.
"I don't want a boy. And I don't want a spoiled prince. Or a peacock courtier. I want a real knight."
"Quite a few of your suitors have been knighted, my dear," was her father's mild answer.
"That doesn't mean anything!" she said, her voice turning shrill.
"I would think it means they're real knights, daughter."
"Oh, you just don't understand!" She stamped her foot again and stormed from the room, leaving her father with no possible response but to shake his head silently.
Back in her room Rosalind flung herself onto her bed. "Nobody understands me," she said to the empty room. She pouted in silence for a while, the sat up and looked around. The huge four-poster sat in the center of the room. Against the walls were a wardrobe, filled with expensive dresses, a mirror, that had cost more than all the dresses put together, and a bookshelf, full of books that had also cost a small fortune.
She got up off the bed and pulled a book from the shelf. Sitting back down she opened it, and placed her finger on the first line of text. It was beautifully illustrated, the first letter twined about with flowers, and pictures of the scenes were scattered throughout. "Once upon a time," she said to herself in a dreamy voice, and started to read.
She closed the book when the story was finished, and the pout was back on her face. It had been a wonderful story, about a princess who had been enspelled by a wicked witch, and the trials that her valiant knight had gone through in order to rescue her. That was what she wanted. She wanted her knight in shining armor, a real knight, not the hopeful boys, or the battered, ugly, old men that came to her father's court. A knight in armor that gleamed, who did heroic things like beating evil wizards and fighting dragons. A knight that would sweep her off her feet and win her hand with feats of valor. But her father's kingdom was depressingly boring. There were certainly no evil wizards. There were a few hedge witches, but Rosalind could hardly imagine needing to be rescued from a harmless old wise woman. There weren't any trolls either, or goblins. And the only dragons had never shown any inclination to attack the castle and carry her off. They were disgustingly peaceable, and never carried off anything at all.
"Hmph," she said, irritably. It was just awful. How was she going to get rescued from evil by her knight? She was getting tired of waiting.
"Would you like another cup of tea?" Peter gestured towards the teapot, which sat on a little table just outside his back door. He sat in a comfortable chair next to it, a teacup in his other hand. He was a moderately handsome man, dark of hair and eye, past the first blush of youth but still well short of middle age.
"No thank you, I really should go." Peter's companion sat on the ground on the other side of the table, for he was far too large to fit in any chair. His teacup was actually a mug, and still looked tiny and delicate in his massive, clawed hand. He set it carefully on the table and rose.
His scales were green and glossy, lighter on his belly and darker along his back. His wings were wide and leathery, furled in delicate pleats along his sides. His head was crocodilian, but with a rather more pleasant expression, and it was crowned with a crest of horns and spikes, with a small pair of shell-like ears set low on the sides. He was a bit over twelve feet long from the tip of his scaly snout to the end of his spiky tail. He was quite unmistakably a dragon. A small one, but a dragon all the same.
"I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then," said Peter. He was somewhat dwarfed by his scaly companion.
"Quite likely. Though don't put the kettle on till I arrive. I'm going to be re-arranging my hoard, and you know how that sometimes makes me lose track of time."
"I could lend a hand if you like."
"Oh no, the entire point is to do it myself. I couldn't possibly let somebody else touch it."
"Ah. I'm sorry if I offended."
"No, you're quite all right. Thank you for being so civilized."
"And you as well. It's very pleasant, having such a well mannered neighbor."
They both bowed, smiling, though the dragon's smile was a bit more toothy.
"Tomorrow then," said the dragon.
"Tomorrow," said Peter. He watched as the dragon spread his wings and took off, vanishing over the trees. Having a dragon living next door was proving to be much more pleasant than he had feared when the creature first moved in the previous year.
The dragon was thinking much the same as he winged his way over the forest. Humans could be very bothersome to live near. But this kingdom seemed quite peaceable, and his neighbors thus far had all proved quite pleasant. He landed at the entrance to his comfortably furnished cave, thinking pleasant thoughts about counting his hoard once more, and tea with Peter afterwards.
"There you are!"
The dragon jumped. The voice was shrill and accusing, and it came from inside the cave. Peering into the entrance he was startled to find a human standing there. Female, young, dressed in an absurdly impractical gown that was festooned with leaves here and there from what must have been a rather rough scramble through the woods to reach his home, she was glaring up at him with her hands on her hips.
"Uh..." he couldn't formulate a response.
"I was starting to think I'd found the wrong cave!"
The dragon blinked at her. Cautiously he entered the cave, eying this strange intrusion.
"I'm Rosalind, I'm a princess. And you're a dragon."
"Yes," ventured the dragon.
"Wonderful!" The princess clapped her hands. "Now my knight can come and defeat you in glorious battle, and win my hand."
The dragon blinked again. "What?"
"That's what dragons do, isn't it? You fight knights?"
"Well, er, some dragons have. But I never..."
"That's all right. I'm sure you'll do just fine. Where do you keep your princesses? Do you have a bed for me to stay in while I'm being held in horrible captivity?"
"Uh..." The dragon shook himself. This very strange person was a guest, however uninvited. "Yes, of course. Uh. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Oh yes please!"
And so the dragon found himself readying his guest room, and making a pot of tea, when he had planned to spend a leisurely evening counting his hoard. He didn't know what else he could do. He had never had an uninvited guest. Who would simply turn up and demand to stay with a dragon? He hoped that the girl would go away in the morning.
The dragon woke with a yawn, coins clinking around him as he stretched.
"I thought dragons' hoards were bigger!"
The shrill voice snapped him completely awake and he looked over to find that, to his horror, the strange girl was not only still present, but was actually handling his hoard! She was sitting in his bedroom, just a few feet away, picking through the pile of coins, gems, and miscellaneous artifacts.
"Hey! Don't touch that!"
He scrambled to his feet with a low growl, and for a moment Rosalind actually looked afraid. She let out a little "Eek!" and dropped the scepter she'd just picked up.
The dragon stood looking at her. What should he do now?
"Do you have anything for breakfast? I'm hungry!"
He sighed. "Yes, there are some muffins."
"I love muffins!"
He got up and fetched the muffins, wondering what on earth he was going to do. The princess followed him into the kitchen, chattering about muffins and breakfast and her favorite foods. The dragon wanted to put his hands over his ears, but he couldn't quite bring himself to be so terribly rude.
After she had eaten, he said, "I guess you'll be going home now..."
"Oh no, I can't go home until my knight comes to rescue me," she said.
"Uh. I see." The dragon couldn't keep the dismay out of his voice. "When is your knight coming?"
"I don't know. I haven't met any proper knights yet. But I'm sure he will come eventually."
"Oh dear." The dragon wasn't too keen on the idea of a knight turning up and demanding a battle, but if there was no knight he might be stuck with this girl forever! "Perhaps you should go home and wait for him there?"
"But knights come to rescue fair maidens from dragons," she said. "Everybody knows that. So I need to stay as your captive!"
"I think I'm getting a headache," said the dragon.
Lunch was sandwiches. The dragon didn't get out his best china, but the princess didn't seem to notice. She ate the sandwiches hungrily, but she kept talking all the while, telling the dragon endless stories about her knight and what he would be like. "I think it would be wonderful if he had blue eyes, don't you think? Our children would have blue eyes. That would be wonderful, they'd be so pretty. Don't you think they'd be pretty?"
"Uh. Yes, of course," said the dragon. He had no idea what he'd just agreed to. He was trying desperately to think of some way to get the girl to go home. He cleared away the dishes, still thinking. He couldn't just let her stay! If she stayed much longer he was going to run out of food, for one thing. That gave him an idea.
"Aren't you afraid," he said, breaking into her stream of constant chatter, "that I'll eat you?"
"Dragons don't eat princesses," she said with careless confidence.
He blinked at her, once again totally bemused. "They don't?"
"Oh no. Not in any of the stories."
"Oh." He sighed. Well, it was true enough in his case, he could never eat a guest. But he was getting frustrated enough to be a little bit rude to one. "I don't really want you here," he said bluntly to her.
She stared at him, silenced for a moment. He could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to fit this statement into her peculiar world view. "That's silly," she finally replied. "Of course you want me here, you're a dragon. Dragons want princesses, or they wouldn't fly off with them."
"You seem to know a lot about dragons," he said.
She smiled. "Oh yes! I've read so many stories!"
He sighed again. Apparently it wasn't going to be that easy. He turned away from the amazingly irritating princess, though by now he had no hope that she would notice his rudeness and get offended and leave. In his bedroom he flopped down on the mound of his hoard and heaved a sigh.
"Where did you get all this?"
He looked up to see that Rosalind had picked up a golden coronet. With a snarl of outrage that was fed as much by his frustration as by any fear of theft he got to his feet and charged at the girl. She let out a startled squeak, dropping the crown and stumbling backwards.
"Get out!" he shouted, fangs bared. "Or I'll eat you!"
She straightened and glared at him, then stamped her foot. "No! You horrible dragon. I'm staying!"
"I don't want you here! Get out!"
"No!" She suddenly burst into tears and ran into the guest room, leaving the dragon to stare after her, frustrated and bewildered. He recurled himself on his hoard, trying to think of some way to be rid of the awful pest.
"I'm hungry. What's for dinner?"
The dragon looked up to find Rosalind standing in his room again. He bit back a growl. Perhaps if he stopped feeding her she would go away. "There's nothing."
She furrowed her brow, looking puzzled. "You have lots of food, I saw your kitchen."
"Yes well, I'm not making dinner." He turned his back on her and curled up on his hoard.
"Fine." He could tell she was pouting without having to look. "I'll just make my own then!" She stomped into the kitchen, and the dragon heard quite a lot of rattling around. Eventually she went back to the guest room, and he ventured into the kitchen to see what she had done.
He found it a disaster. She had apparently made another sandwich, but somehow she had managed to get crumbs and bits of butter and jam on nearly everything. There were two dirty plates, and three dirty knives, and for some reason she had gotten jam all over a fork as well.
He sighed and set about cleaning it up.
When the dragon woke the next morning his home was blissfully silent, and for a moment he thought perhaps the princess had left. Then he heard a delicate snore issuing from the guest room. "Bother," he muttered to himself.
In the kitchen he set about making breakfast. He felt like having porridge, and was only going to make enough for himself, but then he remembered the disaster that Rosalind had created when simply making a sandwich. If she tried to make her own porridge she would probably set the kitchen on fire. So with yet another sigh he made enough for two. He sat and ate his bowl morosely, contemplating an eternity stuck with his unwanted guest.
"Is that porridge? I only like mine with honey, do you have honey?"
He winced at the high-pitched voice. But he wordlessly got up and got out a pot of honey and set it in front of the princess as she seated herself. He tried to tune her out as she babbled. He didn't even know how it was possible to talk so much while eating.
"And then my knight is going to come, of course, just like in all the stories. I'm sure he'll be very handsome, the ones in stories always are. Although it would be better if you had come and carried me off, and if my father had sent out a proclamation about giving my hand in marriage to whoever rescues me. That way it would be done right. But you didn't come to carry me off, so I had to come here instead..."
The dragon pricked his ears up. Her babble had given him an idea. If a dragon could carry a princess away from a castle, why couldn't a dragon carry a princess back to one?
He waited until she was finished with her porridge, he didn't want to be any ruder than he had to be. He was a civilized dragon, after all. But enough was enough. As soon as she set down her spoon he stepped forward and scooped her up in his arms.
"Eek! What are you doing?"
"Carrying you off," he said shortly, and strode out of his cave. Outside he spread his wings. He had to flap very hard to take off with the heavy burden of the princess, who was nearly half his size. But he managed to get aloft, and quickly set a course for the king's castle. The entire time the princess kept up a stream of loud complaints, punctuated with demands that he put her down right this instant. He ignored her and flew on.
The little castle was quiet and peaceful in the morning sunlight. The drawbridge was down, and the dragon could make out a pair of soldiers flanking it just inside the gate. He considered. Flying over the castle itself might get him shot down by some over-zealous soldier with a bow. Best to land on the road. He set down with a heavy thump and set his protesting burden down a few yards in front of the drawbridge. "Here you are, princess. Goodbye."
"Hey! Hey! Come back here and carry me off properly! What kind of dragon are you? You're supposed to take me to your cave, not to my castle, you stupid dragon! Come back here!"
He turned his back on her and took to the sky.
The dragon was more than half way through rearranging his hoard, reassuring himself that it was all still there after having been touched by someone else, when he heard a sound from the entrance of his cave.
"Hey dragon! Are you there? You are a really terrible dragon, you know that?"
He groaned. "Oh no. Not again. Why me?"
He got up, but hadn't even made it half way there before the princess stomped into his room. "I ripped my dress on my way back. And my feet hurt. And I'm hungry. And you are really bad at this dragon business. What did you think you were doing, taking me back to the castle like that? You're supposed to carry me off to your cave, not carry me back home!"
He sighed. "I suppose I had better feed you so you don't wreck the kitchen again."
He just made sandwiches again, not feeling like going to any special effort to feed the princess. He could not imagine a more annoying creature. Why on earth would any dragon ever try to carry one off and keep her?
After the princess had eaten and gone back into the guest room the dragon sat in the kitchen, trying to think of some solution. But he was out of ideas. He had tried everything short of actually harming the girl, and he couldn't possibly do that. How was he supposed to get rid of this infuriating, baffling creature?
Perhaps another human might have some better idea about how to get the princess to go away. The dragon glanced at the guest room. Then he glanced at his hoard. He would have to leave his unwelcome guest alone with his hoard in order to go in search of advice. He hesitated. He looked back at the guest room again, and gritted his teeth. It had to be done.
"Why hello there!" Peter smiled up at his reptilian friend. "I guess I should go put the kettle on. Have fun organizing your hoard yesterday?"
"I wish," said the dragon morosely. "But this dratted princess has been taking up all my time."
Peter's eyes went wide in surprise. "You're the one who kidnapped the princess? Why on earth did you do that?"
"I didn't!" snapped the dragon. Then he realized he was being rude and coughed apologetically. "I'm sorry. I'm at my wits end here. But I didn't take her, she took herself. Turned up on my doorstep the day before yesterday and has refused to leave no matter what I do. I was hoping you might know how I could get rid of her."
"I see." Peter looked thoughtful. "Why don't we go out in the garden and you can tell me the whole story."
When the dragon had finished explaining everything, Peter sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the table. "Hmm. She wants a knight. Well, I know a little about real knights, and they're not much like her storybook notions. I was a squire for many years, I don't know if I've mentioned. The only reason I didn't go on to knighthood was because I couldn't afford the horse and armor. They don't provide them, you know, you have to bring your own. But in any case, she would certainly go away if a fairy tale knight turned up and defeated you."
"I'd rather not get rid of her by dying," said the dragon. "And you said yourself, the kind of knight she wants doesn't exist."
"No. Not yet, anyhow." Then Peter grinned. "But I have an idea. You'll have to put up with her for another day or so while I make certain arrangements, but then she'll be gone for good."
The dragon perked up. "Really?"
"Really. Here, I'll explain..."
The dragon lifted his cup of tea and sipped. The soothing herbal blend did seem to help a little bit, but his headache was still there. He was certain that the princess's incessant chatter was the cause of it. He couldn't wait for her to be gone for good.
"And then there will be a ball, of course, and I'll dance with all the princes and knights, though I'm sure that I'll dance the most with my own knight, because we'll be in love, of course and..."
She was suddenly cut off by a shout from outside the cave. "Ho there, foul monster! Come forth and fight!"
"My knight!" cried the princess, and dashed to the cave entrance.
The sight that greeted her as she stepped into the clearing at the cave mouth was everything she could have hoped. The knight was a young man, dark-haired and good looking. He was riding on a white horse, with a long, perfectly groomed mane and tail. The horse's gear was magnificent in blue and gold, and the knight himself was dressed in armor that had been polished to a mirror finish, the sunlight on it was nearly blinding. The lance couched at his stirrup bore a blue and gold pennant on its tip, and it waved gently in the light breeze.
Rosalind clapped her hands in delight. The dragon, exiting the cave just behind her, suddenly roared, and she squeaked and scrambled aside. The knight lowered his visor, leveled his lance, and spurred his horse. With another roar the dragon launched himself into the air. The knight thundered by beneath him and reined his horse sharply around. "Face me, cowardly creature!" shouted the knight. He raised his lance up and waved it at the dragon.
The dragon swooped down and let out a long plume of fire that shot just over the knight's head, singeing the pennant on his lance. The knight shouted wordlessly and waved the lance again, shaking it threateningly. The dragon swooped over him again, but this time it seemed he hadn't timed his dive correctly, for instead of pulling up above the trees he dove in among them, vanishing into the underbrush with a crash. The knight spurred his horse after the dragon, lance leveled.
The princess was practically bouncing with glee as both vanished from view. It was just like in the stories!
From the forest she heard more crashing, and another roar, then the horse whinnied. And then there was a second roar, this one more like a shriek, cut off. Cautiously she crossed the clearing and peered into the forest, trying to see the dragon and knight in the gloom under the trees. For a moment she saw nothing, then the shining form of the knight appeared, a few flecks of sunlight that filtered down among the branches gleaming off of his armor. The perfect finish was marred with a set of claw marks across the breastplate, but otherwise it was still just as polished as it had been.
"My knight!" she said, and ran towards him.
He swung down from the saddle and bowed deeply. "Princess Rosalind. The dragon is defeated. Come, let us return to your father's castle where we can tell all the joyous news."
He helped her up onto the horse's back and led steed and princess together through the forest. They passed the dragon, who lay very still and silent, and a few hours later reached the castle, where they were greeted with fanfares and cheering by a crowd of nobles. And where the king promised Rosalind's hand in marriage to Sir Peter, the knight who had saved her from the dreadful dragon.
There was a wedding, of course, and it and the ball that followed were every bit as extravagant as Rosalind had imagined. Almost everyone in the kingdom was invited, peasant and noble alike, and the feasting and dancing went on all day and into the night.
The dragon did not attend.
He, very much alive and very much relieved to be free of the noisy, demanding princess, spent that day once again counting and organizing his hoard, taking great pleasure in arranging and rearranging his various treasures.
Some weeks after the wedding he heard the voice of his friend Peter at the door. "Dragon?"
He smiled and rose. "Peter! How goes it?"
"It goes very well. We're married now, which makes me a prince. Quite a rise in the world from a penniless Esquire of no particular importance to anyone but myself. Why should something befall the princess's brother I might even stand a chance of becoming king!"
"I really can't thank you enough," said the dragon. "But surely you didn't have to actually marry her?"
Peter smiled. "Humans are strange creatures, dragon. I don't love her, it's true. She is a bit grating at times, even. But we value rank and power the way dragons value hoards. I am happy enough. And she has her ladies about her, and I have my new title and the duties that come with it. We keep ourselves occupied far apart, for the most part."
The dragon shook his head. "I can't imagine taking a mate like that. But as you say, humans are strange creatures. And however things go for you, I am very pleased to have her gone. I am in your debt."
"Well, perhaps someday I'll call that debt in then. But in any case... I thought we might share a cup of tea, and talk of more pleasant things. I recently discovered a new blend, it's quite interesting. I brought a packet along if you'd like to try it."
The dragon smiled at his friend and went to put the kettle on.