Dragons were always bad news, Arthur thought as he advanced upon the cave. Even when they were tiny, pathetic ones with hardly any teeth.
Merlin had cast doubt upon the reports of the homeowners in the Lower Town, who had noticed a small dragon - about the size of a boar - walking into houses and stealing fruit, before walking straight out again.
"Have you ever heard of a dragon that didn't fly?" he'd said to Arthur, laughing. "A white dragon, too. Someone's been putting gin in the reservoir again," he'd said.
Arthur had remained unconvinced. Even if the dragon were a product of collective overimagination, it didn't hurt his image to check the threat out. When he'd discovered a trail of clawed footprints in the forest, partially obscured by the dragging of a tail, he'd ordered one of the oddest missions of his life.
They entered the cave as silently as they could, which for Merlin wasn't saying much. Merlin tripped over a root and went clattering over, shouting loudly in apology.
"Shh," Arthur hissed. "Bloody thing'll be prepared for us, now."
"Oh no," said Merlin. "The poor imaginary baby dragon."
Arthur frowned. His contemplation was cut short, however, by a flash of white in front of them.
"Dest! Dest! Dest!" squealed the dragon, waddling towards them with its wings held out for balance. "Dest nee! Dest nee!"
Leon raised his crossbow, but Arthur held up a hand.
"Dest nee?" he said.
"Dest nee! Arfor, Merl'n, dest nee! Woo sides say coin!"
"Do you mean 'two sides of the same coin'?" said Merlin who, Arthur noted, had stopped protesting the dragon's existence.
"'Ess!" said the dragon happily.
Bollocks.
Arthur'd killed plenty of things that had talked before - it was par for the course as a knight, prince or king - but he'd never taken a sword to anything this impossibly ... cute.
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Fluffy ridiculousness abounds.
Date: 2011-12-12 03:29 pm (UTC)Merlin had cast doubt upon the reports of the homeowners in the Lower Town, who had noticed a small dragon - about the size of a boar - walking into houses and stealing fruit, before walking straight out again.
"Have you ever heard of a dragon that didn't fly?" he'd said to Arthur, laughing. "A white dragon, too. Someone's been putting gin in the reservoir again," he'd said.
Arthur had remained unconvinced. Even if the dragon were a product of collective overimagination, it didn't hurt his image to check the threat out. When he'd discovered a trail of clawed footprints in the forest, partially obscured by the dragging of a tail, he'd ordered one of the oddest missions of his life.
They entered the cave as silently as they could, which for Merlin wasn't saying much. Merlin tripped over a root and went clattering over, shouting loudly in apology.
"Shh," Arthur hissed. "Bloody thing'll be prepared for us, now."
"Oh no," said Merlin. "The poor imaginary baby dragon."
Arthur frowned. His contemplation was cut short, however, by a flash of white in front of them.
"Dest! Dest! Dest!" squealed the dragon, waddling towards them with its wings held out for balance. "Dest nee! Dest nee!"
Leon raised his crossbow, but Arthur held up a hand.
"Dest nee?" he said.
"Dest nee! Arfor, Merl'n, dest nee! Woo sides say coin!"
"Do you mean 'two sides of the same coin'?" said Merlin who, Arthur noted, had stopped protesting the dragon's existence.
"'Ess!" said the dragon happily.
Bollocks.
Arthur'd killed plenty of things that had talked before - it was par for the course as a knight, prince or king - but he'd never taken a sword to anything this impossibly ... cute.
Dragons, he reflected, were always bad news.