A Damsel and Her Dragon

Yasmine had made a mistake. A costly, dire mistake. She'd whispered a plea in the night to a passing knight – save me from the dragon, and I will do anything you want – but she'd never imagined this outcome.

It had been a shot in the dark, a last hurrah sort of thing, her last hope in escaping the tyrant clutches of the crimson drake who had kept her prisoner in a tall, inaccessible tower in the depths of a dark, mysterious forest. It was a tale as old as time, the Princess, held captive by some monstrous, ravenous beast that could only be bested by the greatest of heroes. The dragon's presence had always been the one thing keeping her trapped—his hunger was endless, and any time he saw her he slavered with a lust that frightened her to her core. She hid in the tower, where his size was too great to fit, and she hoped that someday she would be freed from his clutches.

Back then, Yas had believed that anything was preferable to the dragon and her captivity. Her daydreams had been of dashing heroes on beautiful white stallions come to sweep her off into the sunset, maybe claim her hand, and her kingdom, with a quick, romantic marriage. She'd been naïve.

The knight had not saved her, not that night. He'd seen the dragon waiting at the base of the tower, resting with his massive, armored body across the doorway. The knight had seen the corpses of the failed heroes, the ones who had less sense than he. So, he had fled, but he had spread her plea as he had gone. Save me from the dragon, and I'll do whatever you want.

Humans, at their core, are selfish and covetous, and she should have known that if she gave her word, someone would eventually come to collect. Not out of the goodness of their hearts, no, she had been in this tower far too long for it to be that. They came for the payment.

They came for her.

Word of the desperate, beautiful Princess spread quickly; how could it not? A lush, bountiful woman who needed a hero, one who had a kingdom and her love to offer? One who promised anything to her savior? It was a temptation that drew attention across the land, offering even the lowest man the chance to rise to fortune and if he could but best the beast.

Yasmine noticed the watchers first, even before the dragon. There was little to do in a castle that you had been a prisoner in for years upon years, and thus many of her days were spent daydreaming out the window, wondering what life lay beyond her captivity. The still, late summer day had been hot, and not even a breeze stirred to ease the humidity that lay across the land like a damp blanket.

A trembling bush, then, had seemed odd to the daydreamer in the window. Her pale blue gaze had only barely noticed the oddity at first glance, but the repetitious rustling drew her wandering eyes back, puzzled and intrigued.

A man watched the tower. Multiple men, actually. The more she looked, the more she noticed. One here, under the bush, another there, in a tree. A small group, wandering up the overgrown road that led to the castle and its strange inhabitants. Some were armored, some bore weapons, and all were men with hunger in their hearts.

The first were failures. The dragon devoured them with the same ravenous appetite that he had always possessed. But more had come, and more. Some multiple on the same day, some multiple in one group. The dragon was quick to notice that something was amiss, and more than once she caught his gaze lingering on her tower, his reptilian gaze curious and angry.

Yasmine shied away from the windows and that intelligent golden stare, and she listened as the adventurers came - and died.

After a few weeks, the adventurers slowed in their coming, and routine settled in at the castle once more. A straggler here or there, journeying from across the continent in search of hope, but the hordes of adventurers had finally been bested. Her last shot, her last hope - failed. And now the dragon's ire and suspicion were on her, creating more danger than ever before. He had taken to patrolling the battlements of the castle, watching over his domain from on high. She'd erred, magnificently.