Like A Dragon Sitting in Church

A minor disaster occurred in a quaint house inside the outer wall of Selwyn. Not that Treena would call it minor unless compared to a dragon attack or invading army. However, barring dragons or armies, Treena judged her disaster to be monumental. The family necklace broke.

It was an heirloom passed down through ten generations - a golden brooch inlaid with rubies and emeralds arranged in a spiral pattern. Treena had bent to pick up her fallen hairpin. When she rose, the necklace caught on the corner of a table and snapped. Fortunately, the brooch was unharmed. However, the gold chain snapped in two.

"Mother! It broke!" Treena said. She carried the wounded heirloom into the sewing room where her mother was finishing Treena's dress for the ball.

"What? What broke?" Her mother said.

"The necklace."

"Let me see!" Treena's mother stopped sewing and was handed the necklace. "How did this happen?"

"It was an accident. It caught on the table."

Her mother examined the chain closely. "The link snapped in two – only a goldsmith can fix it, and it won't be cheap."

"But the Ball is tomorrow night."

"I know, Darling. But money is tight."

Treena's shoulders sagged, "I'll be the only one at the Maiden's Ball without a family necklace."

The Maiden's Ball was the most anticipated ball of the year for unmarried young women looking to get noticed by eligible men. It was a tradition for the maidens to dawn their family necklace, much like a knight does his family crest. But it wasn't for fashion's sake only that the necklaces took center stage. It was also so the young men could ascertain with a quick glance the status of each maiden: their family's wealth, trade, and title.

"Nonsense! I can thread a string of lace through the brooch's loop. Many girls are using it instead of gold or silver," Treena's mom said.

"Yeah, the poor ones," Treena said.

Her mother looked at her with compassion. "I don't know what else we can do. This year has been a struggle."

Treena resigned herself to her fate. Living on the edge between the poor and middle class gave her higher expectations than girls who only lived in the poor class – like a gold chain instead of lace. However, it was a meager year, and nothing could change it. So, she squared her shoulders and took the newly threaded necklace to her room. She planned to wear it with dignity and grace and stare down any girl who looked disdainfully at her.

The news about the necklace quickly spread throughout the household, reaching Treena's father at the mill. He gritted his teeth and tried to figure out how to fix the chain. After churning it over for about an hour, his apprentice, Strave, butted in.

"You know, Balktra, it would be easier to help if you let me know the problem," Strave said. He was a young man and apprenticed himself part-time to Balktra. His thread-worn clothing indicated his lack of wealth, but he never considered himself poor.

"Am I that obvious?"

"Like a dragon sitting in church."

"Well, you're correct. Treena accidentally broke the gold chain of our family necklace this morning, and I'm trying to come up with a fix."

Strave's eyes snapped to attention, "That's horrible. Treena must be devastated." His mind was racing for solutions to save Treena. I mean the family necklace, he corrected himself.

"She's strong, but I don't want her to suffer humiliation from those snooty, upscale girls. I can't stand the thought."

"Hopefully, something will come to you. I wish I had an idea, but I can't think of one," Strave lied. He had several ideas but thought sharing with Treena's father was improper. Besides, he didn't know if any would work. "Would it be alright to call it a day? I just remembered that my mother asked me to butcher a chicken for dinner tonight."

"Yeah, might as well. I can't keep my mind on work anyway."

Strave left, heading towards his house, until he thought he was out of Balktra's sight, then doubled back toward Treena's house. He raced to give himself plenty of time to beat Balktra. When he arrived, he calmly knocked, and Treena's mother answered the door.

"Strave, it's nice to see you," she opened the door wider. "Won't you have a seat?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Avard, but I came over because I heard about the necklace, and I believe I might have a way to fix it before the Ball."

"Really? How?"

"First, I'd like to see if it can be done. I want to avoid getting Treena's hopes up. But if this is going to work, I need to hurry."

Treena's mother said nothing but grabbed the gold chain and handed it over. "God bless you, Strave. I hope you're successful."

Strave bolted out the door. He had to hurry if his plan was to work. Lor was the only man he knew who could help, and he would be leaving Selwyn soon. He darted through the crowded streets to the main gate. Looking for Lor's unique wagon pulled by four, even more unique, white and black striped horses. After frantically searching for some time, he finally spotted the strange entourage.

The wagon looked like a tiny market on wheels. It was roofed and enclosed on all four sides, except for a door in the back and a large opening on the left used to sell wares. Lor painted the wagon in the brightest greens and yellows he could find – to make it stand out. As Lor would often say, "What good is a market that hides?" In the past, Strave had picked at Lor for his outrageous color choices, but right now, he blessed Lor for his eccentric taste.

He caught up to the wagon, jumped onto the ladder while it was still moving, and seated himself next to Lor.

"Good afternoon, Strave." Lor wore brown pants with a greenish shirt, topped with a wide-brim straw hat. He gave his greeting without taking his eyes off the street. He didn't even blink as far as Strave could tell.

"I thought you'd be more surprised," Strave said. "Do you have people jumping onto your wagon so often you're no longer surprised by it?"

"I saw you running alongside."

"You saw me? How?"

"It's my newest invention – a side mirror. You just install it there and there," he pointed to the mirrors on either side of his wagon. "Then you don't have to turn to see what's behind you, and," he turned and winked, "you can see if someone is about to jump onto your wagon."

"That's exactly why I'm here. For one of your off-the-wall ideas." He speedily explained Treena's plight. "So, do you have any ideas?"

"Hum," Lor stared straight ahead while slowing the wagon. He wrinkled his forehead as he brought the wagon to a crawl. His eyes opened wide, and he pulled over and stopped. "I might, but it will cost you."

"Whatever it costs, I'll pay it."

Lor turned the wagon around and trotted deeper into the city to the house of Adar, the goldsmith.

When they pulled up, Adar was sitting on the front porch, smoking his pipe. "Haven't seen you in some time, Lor. I take it you're not here to smoke with me."

"I have a proposition."

"I'm listening."

"I need you to repair this gold chain, and in exchange, this young man will work for you on the weekends for six months."

Adar added up the days and times it by a day's wage. "That's very generous." He looked Lor over. "Why?"

"You could teach him a little about goldsmithing while he works off the debt." Goldsmithing was a highly sought-after apprenticeship. It was so lucrative that many paid to be trained.

"I see," Adar looked Strave over. "What's your name, boy?"

"Strave. I'm nineteen."

"Yes, yes, and I'm sixty-eight, which makes you a boy." Adar prided himself on being a good judge of character, and he believed he saw a tremendous amount of character in this boy. "Alright, I'll do it. Lor, are you willing to stand in for his debt?"

"Without hesitation."

"Then give me the chain. I'll have it ready tomorrow."

"Sir, will it be done by lunch?" Strave asked.

"Lunch? Why lunch?"

"I need to get it to its owner for the Ball tomorrow evening."

"Its owner? So, you are doing this for a girl?"

Strave shook his head.

"I see," Adar smiled to himself. "I suppose there is no way to talk you out of this?" Adar quickly put up his hand. "Don't answer. I remember being young once." He stood and extended his hand. "Let's swear to our agreement."

*************

Strave knocked on the Avard's front door a couple of hours after lunch the next day. Mrs. Avard answered and invited him to have a seat. She tried hard to not show her anticipation. After all, she thought, he might not have succeeded. She asked about his day and other pleasantries. Strave conversed politely without giving away anything. He wanted Treena to be the first to know. Finally, Mrs. Avard asked if he would like her to get Treena. He answered in the affirmative.

Treena was already dressed in her new ballgown. Her beauty lit up the room as she descended the steps from her room. Strave melted inside and found it hard to breathe. He has never seen such beauty. He stood as she descended and reached into his pocket to feel the gold chain. He imagined saying elegant words about how he saved the gold chain, but the only sound that escaped his lips was "Wow."

She giggled and then recovered. "Thank you, kind sir, for your compliment."

After stammering and clearing his throat, he finally said, "You look wonderful."

She smiled, sat on the couch, and asked Strave to sit beside her. "Will I see you at the Ball?"

"Oh, yes. I hope so."

"You don't know if you'll be there?"

"No, I mean, yes, I'll be there. I was trying to say, I hope – when I'm there – I get to see you."

"I'm sure we will."

She straightened her dress, waiting for him to say anything, but he only moved his hand in and out of his pocket.

"I have something I'd like to show you." He pulled out the gold chain and let it dangle before her eyes.

At first, Treena couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. He held it closer so she could see it better. Her eyes lit up as the fogginess cleared. She could not speak. She stared between the gold chain and Strave in amazement.

"How?" She asked.

"I found a goldsmith."

"But it must have cost a fortune."

"Not at all. He was having a sale, which only cost half a fortune."

She gave him a twisted smirk. "You know what I mean."

"I made a shrewd bargain, but don't you worry about that." He motioned for her to give him her lace necklace. She did, and he untied the lace and replaced it with the gold chain. He went to hand it back when she turned her back to him.

"Could you put it on?"

With his heart beating a hundred miles an hour, he gently put his arms around her, holding each end of the gold strand, laid the brooch to rest on her chest, then clasped it in the back.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome." His face was flushed.

They sat in silence for a minute, looking at each other. Something strange and exciting happened, yet neither knew exactly what it was. Mrs. Avard knew but thought letting them find out for themselves was best.

Strave broke the silence, "Will you save me a dance?"

"No," she said.

Strave looked crushed.

"I can't save you one dance," she said with dancing eyes. 

Strave found his voice, "Not even one?"

"No, not one." She looked at him in a way she never looked at him before. "Because I'm giving you all of them."

In all of history, good news has been given millions – if not billions – of times. If each one could be ranked, the top three would be the surrender of Tyragnor, which ensured the peace of Wanowyn for hundreds of years, and the discovery of gold in Mog Mountain, which single-handedly tripled the wealth of King Horngar. However, these pale compared to Strave being told all Treena's dances belonged to him.