Georgie and Her Dragon (2 page)

She vanished, leaving Theo with what was now
a definite snout buried in the dust of the road. He staggered to
his feet - all
four
of them - and blinked. Then he opened
his mouth, spat - and belched fire.

Oh
fucking shit
. His mother’s cooking
wasn’t that great, but it had never had this effect on him. He
stumbled through the trees to a pond and leaned over it to catch
sight of his reflection.

Yep. It was all there. Long nose, round open
nostrils, big eyes, large ears, a smattering of horns up the center
of his face and rather large pointed teeth.

Theo considered himself, turning his head
this way and that.

Well, it could be worse. He thought he made
rather an impressive dragon on the whole. His pimples were gone, he
certainly didn’t have to worry about bad breath and maybe there was
a female dragon out there who wouldn’t turn away in disgust.

Now, for those of you who are wondering why
Theo isn’t more upset about being turned into a dragon, it
certainly helps to remember what it’s like to be a teenager. Being
a dragon sometimes seems like an acceptable alternative.

Theo quickly mastered the use of his wings
and flew off to join the small group of dragons who remained in
residence at the castle. They did their best not to snicker.

“Well, lad, you
have
been unlucky,
haven’t you?”
(This was said in dragon-speak, which - for the
purposes of translation - is being written as English in this
story.)

An older dragon was smirking at him. “You’ll
be pleased to know our lives are pretty quiet though, as a rule.
Sleep, eat a yog-boar now and again, roar as necessary and then
sleep some more.”

“What about - er - girl dragons?” Theo
looked hopefully at the elder creature who clutched his sides,
furled his wings and chuckled heartily.

“Well, two problems with that, lad. First
off, dragons aren’t sexually active until they reach about a
hundred and two - and second...doesn’t do us no good anyway,
because there
aren’t
any ‘round here.”

Thus Theobald the Unlucky, a human spirit
bewitched into the form of a dragon, spent the next decades
learning to correctly belch fire, pick yog-boar bones out of his
teeth and occasionally do a little formation flying.

The one thing he
didn’t
get was sex.
Even masturbation was impossible, since his sharp claws were not
the best tools in the world for that sort of thing, and the one
time he’d managed to do it without castrating himself, he’d
orgasmed and belched fire at the same time. The farmer whose barn
he’d incinerated wasn’t happy about it, even though the resulting
fountain of dragon-delight had extinguished the flames.

Morosely, Theo came to accept his sad lot.
His memories of being a healthy human lad faded into vague
impressions of long-ago dreams and his life shifted then settled
into reptilian paths.

He was just one
non
-fucking, unlucky
dragon.

And then he met Georgie. The Thirteenth
Princess...

Upon finding the gurgling bundle just
outside his roost, Theo wrinkled his nose. It smelled funny, and
didn’t look very much like a snack worth getting up from his nap
for.

But it moved, thus it might well be worth
investigating.

Something made him extra cautious with his
huge bulk as he circled the blanket. There was a tiny thing inside
- a wriggling thing - and Theo curiously nosed the coverings
aside.

He blinked as a little body came into view
and backed away as limbs waved and a toothless mouth mewled at
him.

Eeeeuuuuwwww.
A baby
human
.

His tongue emerged in distaste, one of the
habits he’d developed when he’d discovered that humans didn’t care
too much for a rather large forked and moist appendage waved
threateningly in their direction. They tended to walk backwards in
a hurry, which was fine by him.

But then something odd happened.

The tiny critter reached out a little hand
and grasped the tip of his tongue, curling minute fingers around it
and holding tight.

Theo froze as something that felt distinctly
like -
affection
- curled deep inside his body. A pang of
protectiveness darted up his third horn and made his ears ache. The
little creature still held his tongue but shivered, so he carefully
took one claw and recovered it with the soft blanket.

Then, ever so gently, he curled his body
around the entire kit and caboodle, cradling it against the sharp
winds that racked the old stone walls.

“Hello little thing.” Theo spoke the words
in his head of course, since firstly dragons couldn’t speak the
human language and secondly
it
was hanging on to his
tongue.

“Goo goo, ga ga.” He heard the sound in his
head quite clearly.

Well now,
this
was unique. Theo
gently eased his tongue from the vise-like grip of the tiny human
and considered the implications. It would appear that there was
some kind of communication possible, although God knew what
language was being spoken.

He was about to try another experiment -
something along the lines of “take me to your leader” - when a
female bustled out onto the flagstones, muttering fiercely.

“Oh
there
you are. Goodness gracious,
the Queen would have the King’s balls strung up from the turret if
she knew what he’d gone and done.” She shouldered her way past
Theo’s coiled body and retrieved the blanket.

He snorted, thus getting her attention with
a whiff of hot air up her skirt.

“Now you stop that, you nasty old dragon.
This is a
princess
. Just because the King doesn’t want her
around don’t mean that you can have her for afternoon tea, you
know.” She shook an admonishing finger at Theo. “He may have given
her to you, but you’ll not see her for years an’ years. She’s got
to go to Princess School along with the other ones, no matter what
her father says.”

The “princess” emitted a sound that
resembled a small mud geyser blobbing up ooze and the woman held
her nose. “Ooof. They should’ve called you Stinky instead of
Georgiana.” She held her away from her body. “Now wave bye-bye to
the nice dragon, sweetie. I reckon he’ll be around when you get
back and for a good many years after that too.”

“Bye-bye, little Georgiana.
Bye-bye
.”
Theo flapped one ear, then caught himself and tried to look
ferocious.

“Goo goo
gaaaaaa
...” The wail
followed the two females as they departed down the staircase and
back to the human residence within the castle leaving Theo
alone.

And, for the first time in one hundred and
several years,
lonely
.

From that day on, Theo felt a little empty
spot someplace in between his sixteenth and seventeenth ribs. He
put it down to indigestion, cut back on the yog-boars and began a
regular flying program. He developed an interesting maneuver all
his own that involved a swoop combined with a roll and followed by
quite a sharp dive.

The other dragons were impressed in spite of
themselves and began calling him “Ace”, which he liked much better
than “Unlucky”. A villager, awed by his aerial skills, wove him a
rather long white silk scarf to wrap around his neck while
flying.

It was flamboyant but Theo was quite proud
of it, and did an extra swoop along with a wing dip over the
villager’s hut, trailing the fringed ends of the scarf along with
him.

A nice gesture, but one that scared the
chickens so much they didn’t lay any eggs for a week. He earned no
points with the villager’s wife for that little episode.

So for the next few years, Theo worked hard
at his dragon skills, noting the firm body that flexed beneath his
rather attractive blue scales, and the horns along his snout -
fully developed now as Theo approached his prime. And his sexual
maturity.

Of course, that happened several years later
than expected, this being Theo who never did anything - including
develop - according to the rules. But finally, he rested in the
sunshine on the battlements of the castle and puffed out his chest,
secure in the knowledge that when it came to dragons, he could
finally hold his own.

And he began to dream.

Not wet dreams, because God forbid a dragon
should have a wet dream. Mass drownings would most probably have
resulted, and the idea was that dragons should
protect
the
humans they lived with, not smother them with nocturnal
emissions.

No, these were dreams of a rather strange
nature, simple at first, involving annoying songs that stuck in
Theo’s head and revolved around the alphabet, counting and fingers
and toes.

By themselves, they were nothing out of the
ordinary - even though dragons didn’t actually possess fingers and
toes. But when they began to include scenes of little girls playing
games, Theo started to get a bit worried.

Was he bisexual? Was he a gay dragon?
Were
there such things as gay dragons? Was he showing early
signs of perversion? He was blue, not rainbow-colored, had no urge
to go screw any of the other guy dragons, so he doubted they
resulted from a conflict in his sexuality.

Occasionally they were frightening. A closet
with something very nasty in it figured largely in his dreams for
several weeks. Then there was a party, presents, and the unpleasant
sensation of barfing up some sort of cake.

He woke from that one with a headache, a
really bad taste in his mouth - which, for a creature that
regularly belched fire was unusual - and a strong desire for a
couple of lakes worth of fresh water.

Finally, when one restless night he found
himself tossing and turning and constantly dressing and undressing
a small doll, he awoke knowing that enough was
enough
.

It was time to seek counsel from the eldest
and wisest dragon of them all - Dandelion.

Theo wasn’t thrilled at the thought, since
Dandelion - so called because of a fluffy tuft of hair that flew
off his head at regular intervals - was renowned as having the
worst temper in the Kingdom. With the possible exception of the
King after the Queen birthed yet
another
daughter.

But, being a desperate dragon with some
deep-seated fears about his own sexual identity, Theo girded his
loins - or at least firmed up his stomach muscles - and headed out
to the Shadowed Vale where Dandelion lived a solitary
existence.

The stench of sulphur greeted him about five
miles downwind, thus Dandelion was pretty easy to locate. Theo
simply followed the smell.

“Er...’scuse me?” He landed awkwardly on a
couple of rocks and stumbled a little before righting himself.
“Sir? Mr. Dandelion?”

The massive creature raised his head from
the tangled coil of body and wings, to open one eye lazily.
“Whut?”

Not an auspicious beginning, but Theo was a
dragon on a mission. “I need to consult with you.”

“Take a number.” Dandelion lowered his head
and apparently went back to sleep.

“There aren’t any.” Theo looked around.
“Numbers, I mean. There isn’t anybody else here, actually.”

“You don’t say.” Dandelion yawned. “Well in
that case, speak your piece. And make it quick. It’s time for my
nap.”

Theo held his tongue and did not point out
that it appeared
any
time was time for the old dragon’s nap.
No point in pissing off somebody one was about to ask for help.

“Well, you see, it’s like this...” He
settled his tail more comfortably and kicked the sharper of the
rocks out from under his ass where it was digging into his delicate
underbelly.

By the time he’d finished his recital -
telling Dandelion all about the dreams - the old dragon had both
eyes open and was staring at Theo in a rather unnerving way.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” That pronouncement
was followed by a small belch of smoke. “Sorry.” Dandelion waved a
foot in front of his mouth. “Shouldn’t have had that yog-boar chili
last night.” He unfurled his body and farted thunderously. “See
what I mean?”

Theo blinked the tears away from his eyes as
several birds, who unfortunately happened to be flying past at the
same time as Dandelion’s gut released its gas, dropped from the
skies like feathered hailstones. “Er, yes.”

“Well. Seems you’ve got a problem here,
huh?” Dandelion idly scratched his tuft of hair, sending bits of it
in showers around his shoulders. “Let me think a bit.”

Thinking
looked a lot like
napping
to Theo’s untutored eyes, but after about an hour or
so of “thinking”, Dandelion lifted his head once more and focused
blearily on Theo.

“You know what this is, then, don’t
you?”

Theo blinked. “Er...no. As a matter of fact,
I don’t. That’s why I came to you, oh wise one.”

Dandelion wrinkled his already-wrinkled
nose. “You can cut out the ass-kissing shit. I gave up being
impressed with that crap a long time ago.”

“Um...okay.” Would this darned creature
ever
get to the point?

“To get to the point...”

Well thank the gods for that at
least
...

“You’ve got a case of humanoid-reptilian
occipital transference.” He paused. “Or else you’re a raving
pervert with poorly repressed homosexual tendencies.”

Theo swallowed. “I think I prefer the
former.” He thought for a minute. “What
is
that anyway?”

Dandelion grinned, showing several rather
yellowed teeth. “You’ve got a mind link with a princess,
asshole.”

“Huh? What’s a princess’s asshole got to do
with it?”

The old dragon sighed and scratched at his
balls inside his pouch. “I heard tell that many generations ago,
you know - like back before time and stuff - dragons were bonded to
humans. For each dragon, there was one special human with whom they
could communicate.”