A Dragon and a Knight walk into a Tavern

Once upon a time in a far off kingdom where the land was verdant and the air filled with birdsong there lived a brave and gallant knight…

Sir George alighted from his noble steed and lifted his visor to squint at the battered sign through the afternoon sunshine. This was the last place he wanted to be. Well, the second to last place. He shuddered as the scent of roses flooded back into his mind, bringing tears to his eyes and a sting to his nose. He pushed the thought away and steadied his nerves ready to enter the gloomy interior of The Smoking Dragon tavern. 

The tavern lived up to its name and it took him a moment to focus his gaze enough to pick up the outline of his age-old foe at the table in the far corner. He sidled through the thrum of patrons and thumped his helmet down onto the sticky hardwood table. 

“Dragon,” he nodded, by way of a greeting. Then jostled himself awkwardly into the empty chair with a clatter of armour so extensive that it resembled an irate pot washer during the lunchtime rush. 

“So, we meet again,” rumbled the cavernous voice from across the expanse of wood. 

George looked up and met the dragon's nostrils first, warily assessing the smoke billowing from them and the faint glow of flame within. He followed the scaled face upwards until, craning his neck, he could see the dragon’s eyes staring down at him from between the rafters. 

“I assume you can guess what this meeting is about,” probed Sir George stiffly. He leaned forward to glance warily at the tankard in front of him.

“I have heard rumours, yes,” smiled the dragon benevolently. “Please, go ahead. I got you the house ale.”

“Very civil of you,” said the knight grudgingly, not quite able to bring himself to thank his enemy. “You aren’t partaking?”

“I prefer my alcohol with a proof rate of three digits.”

“I see,” gulped the knight. Well, you were not my first choice as you can imagine, but needs must in these trying times. The whole kingdom is being terrorised. People have had enough!”

“Then I presume that this is to do with Her.”  

He nodded, took a swallow of the stale brown liquid and slumped his elbows onto the table. He would never have dreamed he’d be doing this but things were getting dire out there. Soon they would have a kingdom wide riot on their hands. An angry rabble of peasants had called upon his services in a last ditch effort to deal with the ever growing problem. He had never turned down a request for help before and was not about to start now. The fact that they offered to pay double his usual fee had also helped to decide matters. 

“So I take it you have something to request of me,” coaxed the dragon. 

“Yes,” George sighed. “Look, I wouldn’t normally ask, but the townsfolk were quite insistent I choose you for the job. Great reviews, they said, very reliable, best in the business.”

“And you aren’t willing to do the job yourself?” goaded the dragon. 

Sir George stiffened up and said tightly “I am a knight of the realm. I can’t just go around killing-“

“Well of course I’m flattered, but I must decline,” interrupted the dragon with a smile, before adding, “Have you tried just talking to her?”

“Just talking to her? Have I tried..? Of course I have! We all have!” spluttered the knight indignantly. “I spent all morning in her bloody rose garden ‘just talking to her’. I’ve never had my hay-fever react so badly. My eyes swelled up and I couldn’t stop sneezing, it was a nightmare. But, she’s the Princess!”

“That sounds difficult,” said the dragon, adopting a sympathetic tone. 

“It was,” sniffed the knight. “She’s just so stubborn! Won’t listen to anyone and she keeps having all these ideas, all these things she wants to change. That was my last chance to try and make her see reason. But she just kept asking me ‘what’s this really about?’ and suggesting I give myself a ‘mental health day’, whatever that is!” 

“Is what she’s done really all that bad?” questioned the dragon. 

“You tell me. First it was the manic cleaning, everything had to be spotless, not even the pigs were allowed a mud bath. Next she used her enchanted singing voice to ensorcel a load of woodland creatures into doing her bidding. Now they give you a fine if you even so much as drop a crust of bread. She’s banned apples, so the horses are threatening to go on strike. And finally, we can’t use spinning wheels anymore since they have been classed as offensive weapons. So everything has to be made of felt. Have you ever tried wearing felt underwear to bed - it doesn’t breathe!”

“Still, I am afraid I must disappoint,” replied the dragon firmly. 

The knight looked stunned. “What do you want? Is it more gold, because if so, then I can-”

“No, no, nothing so vulgar as that. You see, I have my image to think of nowadays and besides,” he added sheepishly, “I’ve decided to go vegan.”

“Vegan?” shouted the knight incredulously, “But, you’re a dragon!”

“Exactly, mythical creatures can eat as we please. Princesses are all skin and bones anyway, hardly a satisfying meal.” he said pulling a face. “I’m trying to reduce my carbon footprint you see, not easy to do when you’re basically a large furnace on wings.”

“Ah,” said Sir George smiling deviously, “You’ll be all in favour of the new Ultra Low Emissions Zones coming in next month then. 

“The what? No, she wouldn’t…Where are the zones going to be?” gasped the dragon. 

“Pretty much everywhere apart from the tops of the Blue Icee Mountains and the Swamp of Pungent Wonders.”  

Sir George sat back in his chair, holding his ale smugly as he watched the dragon cogitate over this new information. As his nemesis finally let out a long rumbling sigh, he knew he’d won the verbal jousting tournament. 

“So, you will agree to help me then, dragon?” grinned the knight. 

“I will,” he replied, “but I’m still not eating her. We will have to think of something else. And please, call me Draco.” 

The rest of the afternoon passed by in a haze of cheap ale and bad ideas. The sun was getting ready to bed down below the horizon when they finally staggered out of the door. Sir George stumbled off to try and remember where he had parked his horse and Draco stared off down the road that led to Witchwood Forest. He really hoped this plan would work, because they didn’t have either the time or imagination required to think of any others.  

*****

By the time the moon had waltzed its way up between the stars, they were entering the darkened hush of the forest. The spooky stillness caused Sir George’s horse to nicker uneasily as they made their way along the meandering forest path. 

“Do you think there’s any bears in here?” asked the knight warily. 

“Possibly,” replied Draco, “But it’s the little blonde haired girls you have to watch out for.” 

Sir George nodded gravely, eying every passing bush with suspicion. “How much further until we find where the Wicked Witch lives?

“Shouldn’t be that much longer,” sniffed the dragon. “You just have to keep following the smell of stale gingerbread.” 

Within an hour they had arrived at a clearing in the depths of the forest. The gingerbread house stood proudly in the centre, warm light spilling out of its sugared window panes.

“You’d better let me do the knocking, don’t want her to get the wrong idea,” said Sir George authoritatively.

Draco watched him stride past and thump on the door. 

“Whereas a strange man with a sharp weapon banging on her door in the middle of the night will be welcomed in, I’m sure,” drawled the dragon. 

Sir George shot him an exasperated look. He cleared his throat and was just raising his hand to knock again when the door opened. 

An elderly witch answered the door, looking like she had just stepped out of a fairy tale - apart from her fluffy pink slippers.“Oh, do come in dears, I’ve been expecting you,” she smiled ominously. 

They exchanged a glance and made their way warily across the threshold. When they had settled themselves as comfortably as possible in the living room, the witch fussed about in the kitchen. 

Once Sir George had his cup of tea and Draco had declined the mug of Bovril in favour of a miso broth, they were offered a plate of biscuits.

“Sugar free I’m afraid,” grumbled the witch, “on account of my teeth. The dentist said I had to stop if I wanted any left. The pain’s better now, but I haven’t been able to coax the kiddies to come back after making the switch. They say the house just doesn’t taste the same as it used to. Such a shame.”

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” muttered Sir George. “Listen, I, uh, that is, we need your help. I’m sure you’ve heard about all the problems there have been in the kingdom lately, now that it’s under…shall we say, new management.”

“Oh yes,” said the witch darkly. “I’m not allowed to sell my apples any more or keep a mirror in the house, it’s ridiculous!” 

“Er, yes, quite. Well we were wondering if you might have, or if you’d be able to…” Sir George stumbled, as the implications of his request caught up with him. 

“We need a spell to get rid of the Princess,” divulged the dragon, putting the knight out of his misery. 

“Nothing that would hurt her of course,” the knight hastened to add. “Maybe just one that would turn her into something less productive, like a frog, or maybe a nice swan?” 

“I’m sorry dearies, but I’m not allowed to work with any royals or members of the peerage since us witches decided to unionise. Besides, it’s far too much hassle working with princesses.”

“You’ve unionised?” gaped Sir George.

“We’ve had so many problems, we had to!” she declared. “My dear friend Gothel used to rent out this lovely little tower to a princess. Rapunzel, I think her name was. Anyway, after the girl met this young man, they disappeared, no note or anything. Poor Gothel never got back all that unpaid rent and the place was left in a state. She had to call out a plumber to help unblock the shower drain, there was so much hair in it!”

“It’s shocking what young people think is acceptable behaviour nowadays,” sniffed the dragon. 

“Indeed it is,” muttered the witch. “We are much better off now anyway. We’re allowed to have our emotional support familiars with us at all times, no work to be done during the witching hour and they’ve even introduced casual Fridays where we don’t have to wear black.” 

“Well, that all sounds very lovely,” grumbled the knight, “but what are we supposed to do to get rid of her now?”

The witch thought for a moment. “Well,” she said cautiously, “I suppose you could always try asking her fairy godmother. She lives just on the edge of town in that big mansion, you can’t miss it.” 

Sir George stood up. “What an excellent idea! Well, we had better be off, I’m sure we’ve taken up more than enough of your time.” 

“Yes, thank you for the refreshments” said the dragon as he and the knight started edging towards the door. 

“Oh no, I can’t let you leave dears,” said the witch insistently. 

They both froze, a chill creeping up their spines as they slowly turned round to face her. 

“It’s much too late to be safely wandering around in this forest. Why don’t you stay for the night? Then you can set off bright and early the next morning.”

“Well, if you insist,” said the knight uncertainty. 

“Great!” beamed the witch. “Now who wants some hot cocoa and a nice game of Old Maid?” 

*****

Bright and early the next morning a very well rested knight and dragon set off towards the fairy godmother’s mansion. As they plodded along the road together, the dragon thought back to the night before. 

“You know, I think she’s probably just lonely,” he mused.

“Yes, I think you’re right,” agreed the knight. “It doesn’t sound like she gets many visitors any more.”

“It can get a bit lonely in my cave sometimes,” said Draco candidly. “There’s only so many times you can count your hoard and nobody seems to want to visit a dragon.”

“I feel a bit alone when I’m on the road so much too,” admitted Sir George. “I mean I always have Sugarlump with me, but it’s not quite the same as having someone to talk to.”

The dragon hummed in agreement and they carried on silently down the road in the sunshine, the air thick with thoughts.

*****

A little before noon they arrived at the large golden gates of the fairy godmother’s mansion. They cautiously rang the bell, only to be met by a rather grumpy looking hobgoblin wearing a sparkly bow tie. As they followed in the wake of the creature's irritated mutterings, a delightful vegetable garden came into view. 

They met the fairy godmother as she was tending to her pumpkins. She had swapped her usual sequined gown for the much more practical overalls and thick gloves combo. Though her delicate wings could still be seen fluttering behind her back. 

“Good day Madam!” boomed the knight with a smile. “We were hoping you could help us.”

The fairy froze mid prune, a suddenly anxious expression on her face. 

“It’s about the Princess,” said Draco knowingly.

The fairy threw up her gloved hands in despair. “Oh, I know what you’re both going to say, but I really have tried everything with her. Nothing works! “

“There must be something else you could try,” pleaded George.

The fairy dropped the secateurs unceremoniously into her trug with a huff. She placed one hand on her hip and with the other started counting out fingers as she irritably listed all of her failed efforts. “She’s not interested in clothes, shoes, throwing balls or learning to dance. I even offered to find her a nice prince, but she says she’s happy by herself and thinks one will just get in the way.”

“I understand,” placated the knight, “But there must be something you can tell us that would help.”

“You are the person who knows her best after all,” cajoled Draco. 

“And you really are our last hope in getting the Princess out of this situation unharmed,” Sir George added urgently. 

The fairy sighed and a resigned smile spread across her lips. “You two should work together more often,” she said, looking slowly from one to the other. “You are rather a good team.”

The knight and the dragon both stood a little taller with the praise, but couldn’t quite bring themselves to meet the others' eyes. 

“Well,” she began uncertainly, “I might just have one more idea I haven’t tried yet. But, I warn you it’s a long shot!”

“At this point we'll take anything,” said the knight honestly. 

“Fine, one moment please,” she replied and bustled quickly inside. When she returned she was holding a small golden chest in her hands. 

“Here,” she exhaled, handing it carefully to Sir George, “give this to the princess.”

“What’s inside it?” asked Draco.

“Our last hope,” she confided. “Between us, I think she’s just bored. She needs a new challenge, something meaningful to focus her mind on. So let’s pray that this will divert her attention in a much more appropriate direction. Now, shall I have dear old Dobbson see you both out?”

“No!” they blurted, a little too hastily. 

She chuckled knowingly. “Oh, he’s not so bad really, he just gets like that when his arthritis is acting up. Most of the time he is a total sweetheart! Well then, good luck!”

With gratitudes ringing in the air George and Draco set off together for the palace, united in their fragile hope for a better tomorrow. 

*****

One month later and a brave and gallant knight alighted his horse to enter the Smoking Dragon. He smiled at his new friend as he sat down at their usual table. 

“Good afternoon Draco,” grinned George. “I trust all is well in your neck of the woods?”

“Yes, no complaints. Everyone seems very happy with how it’s all turned out.” replied the dragon smugly.

“Thank goodness we were able to get that university prospectus to her in time.”

“The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about,” shuddered Draco.

“Do you know which course she signed up for in the end?” enquired George.

“One of the law ones I think,” shrugged the dragon. “She said something about wanting to become an environmental lawyer, whatever that is.”

“Ah, yes, jolly good. Well it can’t be any worse than what she was doing here before, now can it?” chuckled George. 

“No, exactly,” agreed Draco, “and she’s decided to stay on campus. So for now she will only come back to visit the kingdom during her summer break. 

“Perfect!” George settled back in his seat with a contented expression on his face. “Take it from me Draco old chap, I think we are all going to be getting our happy ever after this time.”

The End.