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    Mikiesboy
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Only Prompts - 17. Once Upon a Dragon

Just a bit of fun ...

 

"Right then laddie. Thou art as ready as ye can be." Dirk McDougall said to his son. He slapped the lad on the back so hard the poor boy stumbled forward. He caught himself before falling. "Boy, be careful! So now, aye, let me have a gaze at ye."

Dirk walked around his youngest son, who was soon to be eighteen. "Leather chest plate, bracers and thy sword. Here is thy shield with our family crest. Thou are ready to get this job done laddie."

Alasdair didn't feel ready. "Father why must I fight the dragon? Why not Brice or Padraig, they are both better soldiers than I."

"Because they are not home lad and innocents like ye are able to blind the dragon with thy beauty. Once a man has a woman or his first drink all innocence is gone."

"Then Father I think I'd like a pint of ale! I've quite a thirst!"

"Nonsense. Ye will be fine my boy."

Alasdair swallowed and stood shaking. He wasn't so sure he'd be fine. The dragon was a fire-breather and had been terrorizing the town and local farms for several months.

As Dirk was mayor of the town, it fell to him to resolve this problem. He pulled his son along behind him as they walked up to the bottom of the mountain where the dragon had made his home. A good sized crowd had gathered and began to cheer as Dirk and Alasdair approached.

Serpent Peak was aptly named. It seemed every twenty years or so some dragon would take up residence, terrorize the town, steal sheep and turnips and then have to be driven off or better, slaughtered.

Dirk pushed Alasdair to the path, known as Dead Man's Path and gave him a shove. "Off you go boy. Me and all these good folk are waiting for you to get up there. Killing that beastie will save us all boy."

"Y…yes, Sir." Alasdair turned and waved at the cheering crowd. They roared their approval. Then setting his sights on the cave at the top, he started upward. It got colder as he trudged up the mountain path. He saw mountain goats and flowers that he'd never seen before. He wished he'd brought his sketchbook with him.

Kneeling, he looked at a small group of tiny flowers. They grew through the snow, their delicate purple blossoms nodded in the breeze. "I will come back to sketch all of these when I'm done with this quest. If I live through it."

After two hours he settled on a large boulder. It was stony cold. He remembered what his mother had said about sitting on cold things: "Ye'll end up with the bleedin' ass boy. And I don't mean because of being buggered by Denny McCloud, no. I am meaning you'll have the oozing piles."

Alasdair shuddered. "Oh Ma, five minutes to eat isn't gonna matter."

Once he'd eaten his bread, cheese and sausage, he continued on the upward path. The sun was setting when he finally reached the top. Through the trees he could see the cave entrance.

Slowly he made his way through the tall pines. "Don't want the worm to see me."

Before him now was the cave. He couldn’t see inside, there was nothing else to do. "I have to see what I'm up against." He walked on tiptoe over the bare ground, there was nowhere to hide immediately in front of the cave entrance except behind a dead tree that looked as if it had been scorched numerous times.

Alasdair sidled along the rocks to the left of the cave entrance, in front of him was the tree. "I'll just take a breath here."

"He's in there now you know."

Alasdair grabbed at his heart and tried to find where the voice came from.

"Up here you twit!"

The young man looked up into the charred tree. He whispered, "Thou art an owl!"

"Give the boy a prize! I am, as you simply state, an owl. However I am a Snowy Owl."

"Och, because thee are white. You scared me, squawking like that."

The owl shook himself and blinked his oversized eyes. "You are a bright one. Did you wish to see the dragon?"

"See him?"

"Do you have an appointment?"

Alasdair scratched his head. "Do I need one?"

The owl flapped his wings and rearranged them on his back. "Of course, he's quite busy."

"I thought I could just go in."

"Well you've come a long way haven't you?" The owl didn’t wait for a reply. "Let me pop in and see if he has time for you now. Excuse me."

Alasdair pinched the skin on the back of his hand. "I'm not dreaming."

The owl returned and flew up to his perch. "Berdem will see you now."

"That's his name, Berdem?"

"Yes. Berdem, Beast of the Skies."

"Thank ye. Can I just …."

"Yes, off you go."

Alasdair went into the cave. The bird leaned over and watched the boy disappear. "You don't want to keep Berdem, Eater of Bunnies waiting."

The way to the dragon was a nearly round tunnel. The walls looked polished. "Like they were melted and shaped." The young man's hands shook as he ran them over the smooth-as-glass walls.

After walking for five minutes he reached the end of the tunnel. There in front of him was a round wooden door. Alasdair stopped and looked at it.

"I guess I'll knock." He did so, with his fist.

"Enter." The voice was deep and gravelly.

The boy pushed the door open, and stuck his head around it. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

The room was vast, the ceiling maybe fifteen feet high, a fire roared in the seven foot fireplace, and a whole pig turned on the spit. A rug of sheepskins lay before the hearth and in a mammoth rocking chair sat an enormous green scaly dragon.

It rocked in the chair and held a book; it turned a page, then bent the corner over and closed the tome. The huge scaly head turned in Alasdair's direction, beautiful golden eyes stared unblinking.

"Hello, you wanted to see me? Come in then, boy and close the damn door." The massive tail flicked impatiently. "It's cold out there, and I like to be warm."

The creature laughed. "Cold-blooded, dontcha know."

Rising to its feet the dragon placed the book on the chair and moved closer to the fireplace. It tapped the cooking pig with a long curved claw. "Mmmm love me a bit o'crackling I does."

Remembering the boy he turned. "Do you like a bit of pig boy? It's nearly ready. You're welcome to join me. Pig and a slice of nice turnip pie, and a cup of beer!"

Alasdair had watched and was stunned into silence. The dragon growled. "Boy! What do you want? Will you join me in me supper? Speak for pity's sake, lad or does a giant got your tongue?"

"I … I … was sent here to kill ye, not eat with ye."

"That pig needs a little longer till it's nice and crisp."

Taking a deep breath, Alasdair said, "Did ye hear me?"

The dragon retook its seat. "Oh, yes boy. I heard you. You wish to kill me? Come then boy and try."

Alasdair walked forward several steps, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Try and I will slice you down the middle with the flick of my claw."

Alasdair stopped. He looked into the dragon's eyes. He saw nothing murderous in them.

"You think me your enemy? I am not."

"Ye steal our food and burn our houses!"

"A dragon must eat! The houses, well make them from brick! Tis not my fault you build inferior dwellings!"

"Ye don't want to kill us?"

"Sit boy, let us eat and talk. Then in the morning you can return to your home safe and sound."

 

The sun rose over the valley and the people gathered at the base of Serpent Peak. They waited for news of Alasdair. There was a great hue and cry, as the gathered townsfolk watched the great, green dragon fly.

It circled the Peak and flew lower and lower, until it landed. The crowd had taken shelter in the great forest, but slowly returned when they saw Alasdair standing on the shoulders of the great beast.

"It's all right. Come out, Berdem will not hurt us! In fact he wants to help us and offer us his protection! Come out!"

And they did and there was talking over many days. There were disagreements, planning, and finally resolution.

In the end the dragon protected the people of the valley for many years, in exchange for a pig or a sheep now and then and of course, freshly baked turnip pie. Berdem taught them how to make brick and other things he'd learned while he'd travelled the world. For many years the valley and all who lived in it were safe.

 

Twenty years later, Alasdair walked with his young son through the streets of their town. Berdem, and all dragons, were gone now. Father and son stopped so the boy could watch a flock of starlings fly.

"Daddy, will we ever fly?"

Alasdair smiled and said softly. "I did once, upon a dragon."

Thanks for reading. Thanks to @mollyhousemouse.

For Prompt 648 - The Dragon
Copyright © 2017 Mikiesboy; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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Quote

Ye'll end up with the bleedin' ass boy. And I don't mean because of being buggered by Denny McCloud, no. I am meaning you'll have the oozing piles.

My mother warned me about many things, but never about sitting on cold things – much less the bleeding’ ass, Denny McCloud, or oozing piles! No, with my mother, it was more, “I’m cold, go put on a sweater!” Or, “Stop doing that! People will think that all Asians do that!”  ;-)

Edited by droughtquake

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