The Princess in the tower

The soft sunlight poured in through the stained-glass window, marking red, blue, and purple blots across the floor. Elena grumbled and stirred, pulling the silken sheets over her gray head. She turned and the ache in her hips woke her more than the streaming sunlight ever could.

She sighed and threw the covers off, rolling her feet over the side of the bed to rest on the rug, two footprint-sized marks worn in the same place. She pulled on her slippers and stood, groaning again with a hand on her lower back.

Another beautiful day, my ass.

She shuffled over to the window and opened it, the hinges protesting with a high-pitched whine. She looked out over the forest that surrounded her tower, golden-hued by dawn’s light. It was lush and vibrant, with wildflowers at the base of her tower.

What utter bullshit.

She heard a rumbling snore above her and cocked her head, then flinched as a massive scaly tail flopped down and barely missed her. It thudded against the tower’s side, exhaling small puffs of dust from the crumbly mortar.

“Watch it, Fist!”

The dragon opened one yellow eye and lifted his massive red head to peer down at her. He grumped and twisted his head to crack his neck. “Apologiessss, Elena.”

Elena looked back out over the land. That wasn’t the first time she had a near-collision with the dragon’s tail when opening her window. That wasn’t the first time her back had ached when rising for a brand-new day. Elena was tired, and it showed in the frown now marking the crow’s feet in her eyes.

“That’s it. I’m done.”

The dragon peered down again, his face expressionless as always, though his pupils did dilate. “What do you mean by done?”

“I’m just done, Fist. I’m done waiting. I’m sick and tired of waiting for my prince to come. They don’t exist. You’re never going to be slain. I’m never going to be freed. I’m done!”

The dragon flicked out his tongue and seemed to be in thought, which Elena interrupted.

“So, I will be going now.”

Fist raised his head higher, placing his claws on the side of the tower. He inched down, sticking his snout inside the window, which made Elena back up a step.

“You cannot leave. You are bound to this tower as I am, by the Dragon Code, Ssssection Thirty-Two, Paragraph Four…”

“I DON’T CARE, FIST. I AM GOING!”

Elena turned heel and donned the simplest dress she could find. She began to look around for a knapsack, but all she found was a ratty old basket. She began to fill it with what she could find and might need: a hair comb, as many gold coins as she could reasonably carry from the treasure box, some apples and fresh-baked bread that somehow always appeared every morning…that’s when she saw the scissors near her sewing kit. Fist watched in horror as she took up the shears and grabbed hold of her long, coarse hair.

“By the Dragon Code, Ssssection Twelve, Paragraph Eight, you are not allowed to…NO!” He roared, a large billow of smoking rising out of his two nostrils.

The scissors hacked through Elena’s hair messily at the nape of her neck; its uneven cutting a testament to her haste. She threw the long braid on the floor, even stomping on it in disgust. “There. Now, what does your stupid Dragon Code say about that, hm?”

Fist just stared at her. Elena smiled at him, feeling a sense of elation she hadn’t felt since she first entered this prison.

She placed an embroidered handkerchief over her basket and placed a red cloak over her hunched shoulders, pulling the hood up over her bobbed hair. She turned back to the dragon. “Bye, Fist. It was nice knowing you.”

His protestations continued as she flung open the room’s door and began to follow the stone steps downward. Her knees and hips ached with each step, but she ignored them. As she descended further, her giddiness increased until she came to the outside door. It was locked from the outside, to be sure, but not from the inside. Not for her. She opened it and breathed in freedom.

The sounds of leathery wings beating precipitated the gigantic dragon landing in front of her. His gaze narrowed on her and for once in her life, Elena thought she could see a frown on his mouth.

“You cannot leave!” he repeated.

“Cannot or should not, Fist?”

He did not reply as she began to walk towards him. “As I said, I’m done. And...” She grinned, “By Dragon Code, Section One, Paragraph One, you cannot harm or hinder me by your actions, either directly or indirectly. So. I will be going.”

“But thissss hassss never happened before!”

She began to skip right through his giant red claws, but her hips immediately objected to that mode of transportation, so she simply walked right past the dragon, through the wildflowers she had never seen up close, and into the forest. She immediately found a path and fate told her to turn right.

Today was a beautiful day.

~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to set when she came across the nearest town. It was a simple village with a dirt road, thankfully dry. Stone houses and shops lined the narrow avenue, with signs swinging and squeaking noisily in the gentle breeze. Proprietors of fruit stalls and fishwives barked advertisements while brightly clothed inhabitants moved in and out of buildings going about their business.

She saw one building labeled “The Swan and Song Inn”, and she immediately ambled her way towards it. The sounds of singing emanated from the inn and got louder has she opened the door, joined by the hustle and bustle of a busy tavern’s common room.

She moved to someone behind the bar, who was polishing glasses and talking to another patron. Walking up to him, she smiled, and he smiled back. “Yes, ma’am? What can I do for you?”

Elena took out one of her gold coins and slid it over to him. “I’d like a room and dinner, please.”

He took the coin and nodded. “Dolly! Get this woman a room and some stew!” A woman, presumably Dolly, came out from a back room, rubbing her hands on a soiled blue apron and wandered over. She looked Elena up and down and nodded. “I have a comfortable room for you and my stew is almost done. Find yourself a seat, and I’ll bring it right out.” She did not wait for Elena to respond.

Elena turned and headed over to one of the few empty tables and sat herself down, wincing again at her hips now sore from so much exercise. After a few minutes, Dolly brought her a steaming bowl of stew, and Elena realized just how hungry she was.

She was halfway through her bowl when she heard a barking laugh off to her left. A man, regal in his shining plate armor, slapped the table and leaned back in his chair with a smug grin. “And that’s how I plan to defeat that dragon!”

Elena looked him over, transfixed, until she found her voice. “Excuse me, what dragon?”

The man in shining armor looked her over and his smug smile increased. “Why, the one in the tower off on the edge of town, my good lady! There lies a princess reportedly so lovely and fair to make a man weep at her feet.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, and that’s when the spark of an idea entered her mind.

“And when do you plan to go about slaying this dragon and by doing so win fair lady’s hand?”

“On the morrow, good lady. I need a full night’s rest to have a chance, of course. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as the saying goes.”

Elena nodded solemnly. “Well, good luck to you, sir. Good luck indeed.”

The man laughed good-naturedly and went back to his conversation with his retinue.

Elena stood up and went back up to the barkeep without finishing her stew. “Excuse me. Where is the tower with the lady in it?”

The proprietor frowned a moment, and said, “It’s less than a mile outside of town. Off to the northeast.”

Elena thanked him and turned to leave the inn. It was just the beginning of twilight, and she figured she could make it before nightfall.

~~~~~~~

Elena huffed and puffed her way along the winding forest path, straining her eyes in the dimness of the area.

It should be around here somewhere.

It was then that Elena saw the presence of mottled moonlight off to the right. It was a sight Elena had seen a hundred times before: wildflowers. Their colors were muted and pale, but she recognized them nonetheless.

She headed off through them and up to the tower when she heard a deafening roar followed by the beating of leathery wings.

A dragon, this one black as the night that surrounded it, puffed up his chest and sounded, “Who daressss come to thissss tower?”

Elena answered, “Elena, Princess of Til-Drana.”

The dragon lowered his head and his voice softened, “Princesssss, you ssssay?”

“Yes. I’ve come to rescue your princess. And by Dragon Code, Section One, Paragraph One, you cannot harm or hinder me by your actions, either directly or indirectly.” She moved past him, his head following her in utter silence as if struck dumb.

“But there issss no…”

“Yes yes. I know, there’s no precedent for this. I’ve heard that already.” She said as she knocked on the door to the tower.

It took a few moments before the door opened hesitantly. Out peered a younger mirror of Elena’s self, her blonde hair streaming down her back and her rosy lips pursed in confusion. “Yes?”

“Hello, I’m Elena, Princess of Til-Drana. You’re being duped. Can I come in?”

The younger princess blinked a few times and opened the wooden door wider. “I’m Yolanda, Princess of Rodonia. Yes, of course. Please come in.”

Elena followed the woman up the stone steps, so eerily familiar. They finally came to another door. Inside was the same set up that Elena had: a small wood-framed bed with silken sheets and the same rug at its side and sewing kits and books stacked neatly on shelves and cupboards. The younger woman turned, looking perplexed. “I’m sorry, but why are you here?”

“Ah, you don’t beat around the bush. Good. Neither do I. I’m here to rescue you myself. You see, I was just like you. Waiting for a prince or noble knight to come rescue me from a dragon. Mine was named Fistadonalus, though I just called him Fist…”

Elena saw herself begin to ramble and she cleared her throat.

“Anyway, he never came or never defeated said dragon. I spent my entire life waiting. In this exact same room. Sewing the same clothes, reading the same books, eating the same damned apples. Tell me, how many have tried to rescue you?”

The young princess frowned and considered, “Oh, maybe a dozen or so…but surely more will try!”

“Oh yes, more will try. And more will fail. More lives lost and one life bound to spend it waiting. I say, we take our lives back. We do what we want instead of pining away, dreaming of a handsome fellow to kill a dragon that you’ve probably become fond of, right? What’s your dragon’s name?”

“Oh. That’s Philondrinus. I call him Phil. He’s bad at gin rummy, but I love him anyway…” She trailed off, as if deep in thought. She moved to sit and then continued to speak, as if coming to a realization, “This whole time, I’ve been dreaming of someone killing my friend.”

Elena kneeled down, placing her hand over the girl’s. “Yes. We both have. But we don’t have to.”

Yolanda looked at the older woman and swallowed hard. Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffled… then nodded. “All right. What can we do?”

Elena stood, her resolve now steely and her purpose clear. “We go to other towers. Other princesses. Others who need rescuing. And then, we roam to our heart’s content. We do what we want when we want. Maybe we learn swordcraft or sorcery and pillage the kingdoms that trapped us in these wretched towers. Maybe we go back to our families and say no more. But it’ll be our choice to make.” Elena extended her hand. “So, what do you say?”

Yolanda looked down at the older woman’s hand, and her mouth turned into a line. She took it and gave it a hearty shake. “I’m in.”