Whiff the Dragon

The knight paused in the darkness of the never-ending cavern, his heart pounding against his chain mail. He could no longer tell if the fear that had gripped him from the moment he had agreed to this quest caused the sweat on his noble brow, or it if was the exertion from walking for hours in armor. Modern knighthood didn’t involve wearing tons of steel into battle.

As he took out the fair linen handkerchief his fair lady had given him as a token of her fidelity, a strange sound shook him to his very core. His nobility kept him rooted in his place, even though an overwhelming fear caused him to almost soil his chain mail undies. He trembled as quietly as he could. Again, the sound assaulted his ears. It was… a gurgle?

He waited. The gurgle echoed again. It wasn’t a roar. He didn’t think it would kill him.

When he was just a lad in his father’s castle, his tutor had once said rivers flowed underground, causing some of the caves in his realm. At the time, the knight had ignored him, hoping for more time in jousting or, his favorite lesson, Acting Noble. He vowed to never admit his ignorance while racking his brain for any other memories of those science classes -- was this a limestone cave? How was he supposed to know! Which are the stalagmites, the ones on the floor or the ceiling? Should he care? He was a Noble Knight, not a spelunker!

Refreshed by his wit, the knight pocketed the handkerchief and pressed forward. A gurgle surely couldn’t hurt you. Plus, if there was some water, he could maybe rinse out his chain mail.

Following the sound of the gurgle, the knight soon noticed a glow ahead of him. The air seem to warm as well. Perhaps he had found an exit to this cursed cave. It would be both a delight and disaster for him. He would be free of this wretched darkness, but his quest would have failed. Either way, it would be an end to his tortuous day.

He round a boulder and stopped in amazement. Before him was not a river, not blue skies and trees, not more stalagmites or stalactites, but a dragon!

The knight’s brain froze as the dragon turned a golden eye and looked him up and down. It then took a puff from some sort of standing flask, causing the echoing gurgle that had drawn the knight to this lair.

Before the knight could move or run or even squeak in a not-so-very noble manner, the dragon spoke.

“If you’re here to kill me, you needed to bring more than that wussy sword and some stinky armor,” it wheezed.

The knight blinked. Dragons talk?

As if reading the knight’s mind, the dragon took another pull on the gurgling device and coughed. “I bet your tutor never taught you all about dragons. Most curricula regarding my species fails to mention we are fluent in many languages, including most mundane human tongues.”

“Erm…” the knight grunted.

“Really?” the dragon rolled its flashing eyes and started to disassemble the device it had been using. “Perhaps once my nebulizer is put away, you’ll regain the use of your brain and mouth. That is,” the dragon smirked, “if the they are able to work together.”

“A, a nebulizer?” the knight squeaked.

The dragon sighed, ending with a slight cough. “Yes, a nebulizer. The pollen counts have been miserable this week. I feel like I’m tethered to this thing.”

“Pray tell, what magic is that?” the knight whispered.

“Are you really that sheltered?” the dragon shook its head, it’s green scales shimmering. “It’s for my asthma. Don’t tell me you’ve never seen anyone with asthma before! How about at school?”

“I had a tutor?” the knight squeaked.

“Oh, stop acting like a mouse and just speak up,” snapped the dragon. “I’m not going to eat you, not the way you smell. Sit down, over there, and have a load off.”

The knight gulped, saw the chair the dragon pointed to, and hurried to it, nodding his thanks.

“Now them, let’s be civilized. My name is Whiff,” coughed the dragon. “To whom do I have the pleasure of welcoming to my lair?”

The knight stood, bowed deeply, and began, “Oh Noble Whiff, I am Sir Gadaboute, son of the First Knight of the Far Kingdom, Lord of the Realm of King John, Holder of the Glad Shining Sword of Justice.”

“You mean, that thing?” Whiff pointed a sharp claw at Gadaboute’s waist.

“Why yes,” the knight unsheathed his blade. “This is the finest steel in all the Far Kingdom!”

“And you seriously think it would kill a dragon?” Whiff said.

Gadaboute opened his mouth to protest, then stopped. The dragon was, by far, the largest creature he had ever seen. It was easily bigger than his own vast stables. Its teeth were longer than the tallest man he knew. The scales that glowed in the lamplight of the chamber had to be many feet deep, and they smoothly fit together. Not even his sword, his fantastic blade, would be able to cause more than an annoyance to this large beast.

“Oh noble Whiff, forgive my pride,” Gadaboute sat down. “I was sent on a quest, and had no idea.”

“Yeah, you knights and your quests,” sniffed Whiff. “It’s always the same -- find the loathsome dragon, kill it, win the fair maiden, yada yada yada. Only, have you ever met a knight who actually did it?”

“Well, no?” admitted Gadaboute. “Wait! How did you know about the fair maiden?”

Whiff rolled his eyes again. “There is always a fair maiden, and it’s usually her father or guardian who wants some knight to prove himself worthy of her hand by killing a dragon. And it never happens. It’s one of the oldest scams in the books, right up there with, ‘Send the African Prince Treasure to Save his Kingdom.’” The dragon laughed, then coughed. “Stupid pollen,“ it muttered.

“Listen to me, Gadaboute,” the dragon continued. “The guy who sent you on this stupid quest is not going to ever give you the hand of his daughter. He sent you here to die, assuming I’m going to kill you. Which I’m not.”

Gadaboute sighed. “You might as well, for I love her,” he said. “I have loved her since the first day I saw her. She is the fairest, most noble lady I have ever met.”

“And I’m sure her lands and holdings are lovely too,” Whiff smirked.

“I beg your pardon! You will not talk of the fair Lady Priscilla that way!” Gadaboute leaped up and shouted. “I care nothing for her land or wealth! Her father’s realm is too far to be of any use to me! I simply love her, and would do anything to win her hand!”

Whiff tilted his head and looked Gadaboute in the eye. “You are seriously that in love with this Priscilla?” he asked. “Does Priscilla feel the same about you?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it,” Gadaboute sat down heavily and closed his eyes. “I saw it in her face the first time we met, at the ball for her older sister’s wedding. We danced under the stars that night, and all that mattered were her eyes. She made me laugh and cry from joy. I pledged my heart and soul to her.”

“But her dear old dad didn’t approve,” Whiff said.

“No,” Gadaboute removed his helmet and ran a hand through his hair. “I have a brother, you see, who is not as noble as I. He has made my life a struggle in many ways. My family’s name is not what it used to be.”

“There’s always the ne’er-do-well brother.Why not elope then?” suggested Whiff. “Surely that’s romantic.”

Gadaboute shook his head. “I am not a brave man, as you can now tell, but I strive to be a noble one. Eloping with its sordid tinge of kidnapping and illegitimacy -- I could not do that to the fair Priscilla.”

“Truly a gentleman, to the last,” Whiff stretched a wing. “So, now what?”

“To be honest, I never wanted to kill a dragon,” Gadaboute said. “I was actually hoping to just steal a bit of your treasure to prove I did it. To get a piece of dragon’s gold would be proof enough.”

The dragon laughed until he coughed again, sending weak puffs of smoke into the upper dark reaches of the chamber. “My gold, huh?” he wheezed. “Look around you. What treasure do you see?”

Gababoute looked as Whiff raised himself on his mighty legs. Instead of piles of gold and gems, the dragon lay on books. Books of rare bindings and end papers of gold. Books encrusted with jewels and covered in leathers made of the rarest hides.

“You could call me a bookworm,” giggled the dragon and he lowered himself. When the knight gave him a blank look, the dragon rolled his golden eyes again. “Seriously, how many times have you been knocked off your horse, Gadaboute?”

“My dear, noble Dragon, how can a book win the hand of Lady Priscilla?” Gadaboute said.

“Listen up, my noble idiot,” Whiff said. “Who is this lady’s father?”

“Why, that would be Sir Flauntsalot of the Nearer Kingdom,” he said.

“Yeah, I know of him,” Whiff stroked his chin. “He’s sent others to meet their fates with dragons before. He must like you.”

“How can you tell?’ Gadaboute asked.

“Because Flauntsalot usually sends suitors he hates to dragons that will crisp them up without a second thought. Be glad he sent you to me.”

“So he knew I would not die by your hand, or claw, or, or… whatever?” Gadaboute said.

“Claw. Geesh, really?”

“I beg your pardon,” Gadaboute bowed his head.

“Yes, he sent you to me because he knows I am a learned lizard. I don’t eat knights. I prefer to read and eat pasta.” Whiff nodded his head to a large, bubbling cauldron. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner. It’s spaghetti tonight.”

“How does Flauntsalot know this of you?” Gadaboute asked.

“Many years ago, before the asthma got bad, I collected my treasure by breaking into libraries. Flauntsalot had quite a collection,” Whiff smiled whistfully. “I raided his castle many times, and was never disappointed. Flauntsalot didn’t ever seem to mind until the day I took the rarest book in his library.” Whiff pulled a book from under him and handed it to Gadaboute.

Gadaboute looked at the book. It was neither encrusted with jewels nor covered by exotic leathers. “What is so special about this book?” He asked.

“Ah, my dear friend, you are judging it by its cover,” Whiff grinned. “That book is a collection of ancient tales of knights and dragons. The pages are believed to be parchment made of the skin of a dragon. The ink, blood of many knights. It is the only one like it in the whole world.” Whiff sighed. “Take it, give it to Flauntsalot. He will give you the hand of the fair Priscilla, and perhaps he will stop sending knights to bother us dragons.”

Gadaboute’s jaw dropped. “You, you would do this for me?” he stuttered.

Gadaboute shrugged. “You came to be noble. Be giving you this book, it may end some of the bloodshed and distrust between our species. To end centuries of mistreatment on both sides, what could be more noble? Flauntsalot is one of the last knights to keep sending you fools to bother us. Please tell me Priscilla is his youngest daughter?”

“Second youngest,” Gadaboute murmured.

“Well, we’ll see,” Whiff wheezed. “In my healthier days, I might have just swept down from the skies and burn that annoying jerk myself, but it was never my style.”

“Plus, the pollen counts,” Gadaboute said with a grin.

Whiff grinned back. “A man who can learn is a friend indeed.” He coughed, then paused. “Please make it sound as if we fought. I may be a gentle, asthmatic dragon, but we should keep up appearances and such. Agreed?”

Gadaboute extended his free hand. “I will make sure you become the stuff of legends!” the knight declared.

After a long, drawn out farewell, filled with declarations and many noble promises, the knight left. After a while, a slim figure crept out from behind Whiff’s.

“I’m sorry that took so long,” the fair Lady Priscilla said, stroking Whiff’s cheek.

“Priss, I will never understand what you see in that idiot,” Whiff said.

“He’s noble, sweet, and his realm is way far away from my father’s. Plus, he is hunky out of that ridiculous armor,” she smiled. “And, yes, I know why it smelled. It’s kind of charming, in a pathetic way.”

“You always liked the stupid, scared ones,” Whiff smiled.

“Which is why you are my brave, smartest friend, my dear dragon. Consider it my way of balancing my life.”

“Just remember, I get a wedding invite, right?” Whiff said.

The Lady Priscilla kissed the dragon’s cheek. “Of course! If I could fit you in a tux, you’d be my Dragon of Honor!”

The two friends then sat down over a bowl a spaghetti, and read a wedding planner together.