Once there was a princess who wanted nothing more than to be rescued by a Knight.
The bars in the Middle Ages were terrible places to meet guys. Meeting someone with an appropriately royal heritage? That was easy; there was no universal surveillance like we have in the enlightened Future, so any half-arsed bastard son of a royal (and surely, when the Royals are encouraged and the Peasants are excited, you’ll get some bastards; ’tis why the world is full of them) – could get along.
She wanted a nice, traditional thing.
She spent a long time trying to get kidnapped by a Dragon, but it was a modern Dragon, full of compassion and eventual love, and it eventually made her feel terribly weird. So, rather guiltily, she took off her coronet and made for the singles bars, where she had a lot of heartbreak and life lessons, and I, for one, wouldn’t chose that path; but I’m no Princess, I’m a Dark Lord.
And, indeed, eventually, she found this out:
Dark Lords don’t need anyone, although they certainly appreciate those around them.
So she was about to begin her solo career as a Monster when she met The Knight, who refused to fight a Dragon for her on the grounds that he would die, and offered to buy her a drink.
This was an unbearably useful approach for a fairlytale. They both got drunk, did a few things they regretted, cried, hugged, and eventually married.
The Dragons were fine with this. They were busy collecting the treasure of the World.
And so it goes.
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If you enjoyed this micropiece, you should either read through the Archives/Blog, or seek psychiatric assistance.
Possibly both.
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