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Once upon a time, there was a fierce dragon who roamed the world until he found a mountain that glowed golden in the sunset, and there he dug into the stone and made his lair. He had amassed riches of gold and gems which he stored here, but he found that even with all the precious metals and gleaming stones, his life seemed empty. So he flew toward a nearby castle and captured a young, beautiful princess. Her hair shone like liquid gold, her eyes sparkled like sapphires and starlight, and the dragon thought that she would make a good addition to his hoard. He used his dragon flame to melt gold and silver and fashion a bed, table and chair for the princess, and bars to keep her inside the lair when the dragon was going out to hunt for food or gold.
The princess was a bit miffed that the dragon had abducted her without so much as a by-your-leave. In fact, if the dragon had asked her, she would probably have agreed to accompany him. Life in the castle was terribly boring for a princess after all, and then there were all those princes that she was to choose a husband from. It was rather tedious, all told. So when the dragon came to take her away, she was willing to follow, if the dragon had given her a chance.
After her initial resentment, the princess found out that the dragon was a rather good storyteller. He had lived so long and experienced so much, and the princess felt as if the whole world was laid open for her in the dragon’s tales.
The dragon, in turn, and although he was still enchanted by the beauty of the princess, was even more delighted to find that the she had a sharp mind, a keen curiosity, and a laugh that was brighter than any pearl, a laugh he wanted to hear again and again.
So, even though the princess was still behind the gold bars when the dragon was out, and even though the dragon was still as fierce as ever and fire-breathing to boot, the two had struck up an unlikely yet firm friendship.
Meanwhile, word that the princess had been taken by the dragon reached the kingdoms far and wide, and the sons (and daughters) of many a king and queen went to slay the dragon and free the princess. Some of these sons (and daughters) returned empty-handed, some with riches, some with tales of strange new worlds. Some never returned to their homes, having found adventure, fortune, or love elsewhere.
One day, however, a young, proud knight rode towards the dragon’s lair on a white steed. His armour was gleaming in the afternoon light, his sword was sharp, his saddle of the finest leather, and his horse of incredibly prestigious pedigree. He himself wasn’t anyone special – not the youngest of three sons, two of which had already tried and failed the task; not the long-lost prince who had been living as a goatherd; not the one true love of the princess who was in the dragon’s clutches. This knight was quite simply a knight who slew dragons. It was a tough job, but someone had to do it: Kill dragon, free princess, marry said princess and get half the kingdom, or at least get a sizeable reward, some of which would go towards the upkeep of his half-brother the goatherd. And so it was with the assuredness of one well-suited to the task at hand that the knight rode toward the dragon’s lair.
Now, he was very lucky that the dragon was away looking for a bit of treasure for himself and a nice new dress for his princess when the knight rode up to the lair’s entrance, or things would have gone very badly for the knight in a short, hot way, and this tale would have been over by now. What the knight found when he entered the lair were huge but well-sorted mounds of gold, silver and precious stones glimmering and glittering in the light of torches, as well as fine silk carpets and artworks. Clearly, the knight thought, this was one of the magpieish sort of dragon who would steal anything that took his fancy. He looked around further and saw inside a golden cage a young woman sitting at a golden desk, appearing to study a map and making notes in a little book bound in leather. As quickly and silently as he could, considering he was wearing armour and carrying a sword, he stepped towards her.
"Princess!" he whispered, loudly. "Princess! I have come to rescue you from the dragon's prison!"
The princess looked up and frowned. "What the hell", she asked, fairly un-princess-like, "do you think you're doing here?"
The knight was taken aback - this was not the reaction he had expected from a damsel in distress. He rallied quickly, drew his sword and began to hack away at the bars. "I", he panted between strokes, "have come" - hack - "to rescue" - hack - "you" - hack - "from" - hack - "the dragon!"
"Oh for heaven's sake!" The princess got up, went to the bars and pulled one to the side. "Stop that! You're making dents in my living room." She stepped through the gap and out of the purported cage. "Seriously", she continued, "how would you feel if someone came to your place and started destroying your walls?" The knight stopped in his tracks, sword upraised, and slowly started to get the feeling that he was not on as steady ground as he'd thought. "You can walk out at any time?" he asked the princess, sounding foolish even to his own ears.
"Of course I can", she answered. "Do you think we'd be stupid enough not to give me a door? What if something happened and I couldn't get out?"
The knight blinked. "We? Who is..." He was interrupted by a leathery, silken sound he knew well: The hide and wings of a dragon. The air was suddenly noticeably warmer inside the underground lair. Instinctively, the knight moved to put himself between the dragon and the princess. Unfortunately, the princess was also trying to put herself between the knight and the dragon, resulting in a terrible tangle and quite a few expletives from the woman. The dragon looked on, amused by the spectacle the knight was making of himself, until in the tussle the princess was fetched a rather sharp rap by the knight's elbow armour and stumbled back, whereupon the dragon put his foot down - or rather his paw, pinning the knight to the floor and bowing his great head down.
"Tell me, meddling knight", the dragon purred, "tell me why I should not simply have you for a snack. Grilled in your own armour. Tasty. I haven't had knight in simply ages." The knight waved his arms about, trying to reach his sword which was lying on the floor, just out of reach. This was not going according to the script.
The tableau held, and the knight was sure his life was over, until he heard a giggle behind him, a giggle which was... was it possible?... which was echoed in the rumble of the dragon. The dragon and the princess were both laughing at him.
"I think you've scared him quite enough, don't you think?" The princess stepped between the huge forelegs of the dragon, reaching up to touch the side of his face. The dragon leaned into her touch like a cat. "My dear knight", she continued, "I don't need rescuing. I'm quite happy where I am, in fact. My friend here will not harm you." Indeed, the pressure of the dragon's claws was far from crushing, and the expected deathly flame never appeared. Instead, the dragon looked at him appraisingly. "You have a brother, do you not", he said. "A goatherd, if I'm not mistaken." The knight nodded, confused and overwhelmed. "A honourable profession," the dragon continued, "one that you might want to take up for yourself. Or sheep, maybe. Far less exciting than rescuing damsels and defeating dragons, I grant you, but also a lot safer and promising a quiet and long life." The knight nodded again, dumbstruck.
The dragon took his paw off the knight and reached out to grab a leather sack from the hoard, which jingled as it moved. "Here", the dragon said, "have this as a little starter coin. Buy a flock of sheep or something." He turned to the princess. "Are you alright, my dear princess?"
The princess smiled and helped the knight to stand. "Of course I am, my dear dragon", she answered. Turning to the knight, she said, "Take the coins, go home, get a proper job. Dragons don't need slaying, you know, and princesses don't need rescuing. Go, knight, go." She smiled at him and made shooing motions.
The next thing the knight knew, he was sitting astride his horse, as dazed as if he'd just woken up from a dream. But the leather sack was tied to the saddle, and he held the little silk handkerchief the princess had given him to mop his brow which had been sweat-soaked with fear (he would not speak of other parts of his body which were soaked with liquids more pungent than sweat). In the dusk, he turned his horse toward where he knew his half-brother the goatherd lived. Sheep, he thought, sounded very good right now.
Above him, the leathery wings of the dragon spread in the evening light, and the last rays of the setting sun gleamed in the hair of the princess riding on his back.