short story: the dragon and the rose

I am getting on with Milord High Toby which I think is far enough on for me to start posting, but I was reading my book of Italian folk tales and one of them irritated me enough to take the first part of it and rewrite it.  

I've had some sinus trouble with the high pressure, and general lethargy; I now have a SAD lamp so that seems to be helping. I am still seeking a position somewhere as a tortoise. 

 

The Dragon and the Rose

Based on an Italian folk tale which sounds to me like several tales cobbled together; I am taking the first part, as the rest exists in various other forms.

 

King Fiordinando and his queen, Queen Perina, had almost given up hope of ever having children, when the queen announced that her prayers were answered at last.

The king called on many soothsayers to predict whether the child was a girl or a boy, whether the child would be healthy, and what he or she would do with his or her life.

Farfanello, the youngest soothsayer, was chosen as the messenger whilst the other soothsayers rapidly left town. He bowed low, obviously terrified, but working hard on not showing it.

“You don’t have to tell me that it is bad news,” said Fiordinando. “A sickly child who dies?”

“N... no, your majesty,” stammered Farfanello. “But... oh, dear, the child is a boy, healthy, loving, handsome, well-behaved, but... but when he is twenty, on his birthing day anniversary, he will wed.”

He gulped.

“That doesn’t sound too bad so far,” said Fiordinando. He was, on the whole, a genial monarch, whose greying hair grew naturally in wild curls, as did his beard, making him look more aggressive than he was, and he felt a need to soothe those who found a large man with untameable hair intimidating. Farfanello was a slender youth, almost skinny, but he showed himself to have the will to speak out.

“No, it’s the next bit that everyone agreed on which is why the other soothsayers fled,” said Farfanello. “On his wedding day, if he does not slay his wife as soon as the vows have been exchanged, he... he will turn into a dragon.”

Queen Perina fainted.

“That is not good news,” said Fiordinando with commendable phlegmatism, when he had made his queen comfortable. “Well, as you had the brazen ones to stick around and pass the bad news, I make you court soothsayer. And you will spend your days casting horoscopes for my son to see if there is any way for him to avoid his fate, or make the best of it.”

“The only thing I know is that he must marry, or he will die, but if he marries and his wife lives but flees him, he will become a monster of jealousy,” said Farfanello, who had already cast further than his fellows, knowing they were going to pick him as a scapegoat. He was glad he had not fled; court soothsayer was a well-paid job with very few duties.

“Well, we shall have to be honest about the curse, then,” said Fiordinando.

 

In due course, after the usual period of time, Queen Perina was brought to bed of a son. She was blessed with an easy birthing, which she survived, and her baby boy was everything she might have asked for, a beautiful child with intelligent eyes, curly blond hair, and if there were slight scales on his body when he was newborn, which vanished with the cutting of the umbilicus, none of the queen’s women mentioned it to her.

It was only when small prince Draco – it seemed foolish not to acknowledge his fate – was a year old, that an elderly woman amongst the queen’s tiring women admitted on her death bed that the queen had herself been cursed at birth by a jealous witch, who had not been invited to the christening, that she would birth a monster.

“But, my lord king, I am myself a witch and I was able to mitigate the curse,” whispered the old woman. “I said that the child would only become a monster on his own wedding day, but if he chose instead to wear the form of a monster, he might shed it if his wife loved him enough to give him three kisses. But she must not know that this is required.”

“You should have spoken before,” said the king, but he spoke gently.

“I was afraid, for the bad witch managed to say that if he did not wed on his twentieth birthday he would die,” said the old witch. “But if you will pray for my soul, it will help him.” She breathed her last, and King Fiordinando ordered a memorial for her in the city cathedral, and that people should pray for the soul of a woman who had minimised a threat to the crown as he would do himself.

 

Draco grew up, as children do, with good days and bad days, but if his hazel eyes, almost golden in hue, changed to red, his parents were quick to make him see his own faults, and to pray for forgiveness. He managed to grow up desiring to be good, without being a prig, no mean feat for any parents.

 

When Draco was fourteen, his parents sat him down and told him everything.

Draco was horrified.

“If I killed a wife, that would make me into a monster far more than any dragon might be,” he said. “Papa, Mama, it needs to be proclaimed far and wide that a curse will fall upon me on my wedding day, and that any girl brave enough to care for me will be reared beside me until I am twenty, and will be a princess, whatever her birth.”

“There’ll be dozens who will think that worthwhile getting out of hard lives,” said Fiordinando, cynically.

“Of course there will,” said Draco. “But you will cause the puppet masters to make a massive puppet of a dragon, Lord Farfanello the Royal Soothsayer will surely know the colours and dimensions, and each girl who applies who you think is a decent girl must go into a room darkened but for the light on the dragon, and by her actions, you will know what she is like. Meantime, you must write to the Pope and explain our problem, and ask him for a dispensation for me to be a dragon, so I am not attacked by every knight in Christendom. And if he will send an aide to help keep me pious as a dragon, and not evil, it would be good. Also, you must have a contingent of archers at my wedding, in case Farfanello is incorrect, and I lose my intellect; or that I become a monster in sooth, for if killed before I do anything monstrous, I have a chance at least to go to heaven.”

“My son, you are wise,” said Fiordinando.

 

The proclamation was sent out, that the prince was under a curse, which would fall on him on his twentieth birthday when he must marry. His wife would have to live with him being cursed, and a girl of fortitude and bravery was needed. She would be reared as a princess and showered with honours if she was duly faithful to him.

Now it so happened that a girl named Rosina, who was a year younger than Prince Draco, had just been orphaned, and her landlord, Lord Bigolino who was a nasty piece of work, suggested that she might stay in the cottage her father had rented if she came to his bed. Rosina preferred to leave, quietly, in the night, with her meagre possessions, and go to the city to seek work.

Now, one of Rosina’s possessions was a magical nightingale, given to her by her grandmother, who was a witch. This nightingale could talk telepathically to Rosina, and was also able to calm the most angry person with his song. He had made Bigolino go to sleep so that Rosina could slip away, when it was apparent that the lord did not intend to take ‘no’ for an answer. Rosina was a pretty girl, with dark, lustrous hair, and good clear skin, though it was darkened from working outside. She packed food, and a change of clothing, and made her way through the rolling hills of the countryside, redolent with the scents of herbs, and the lanes protected by rows of cypress trees.

In due course, Rosina reached the city, and because her grandmother had taught her to read, she read the proclamation.

“Dear me, it seems I cannot lose if I try this,” she said to Clarinetto, the bird. “If I am not chosen, why, I am no worse off, and I might perhaps win a lesser place, working in the palace or as a companion to the chosen princess.”

“Dear mistress, the curse is to turn into a dragon,” said Clarinetto.

“What do I need to know about dragons?” asked Rosina.

“They like stories,” said Clarinetto. “Also, many of them are bad tempered because they cannot reach to scratch in their wing-pits unless they do it with their back claws, which can hurt them.”

“I will remember this,” said Rosina. She went to the palace, and discovered that the line of girls who thought they could be a princess stretched almost a mile. She took her place in the queue, and did not hesitate to share the bread and cheese and bottles of apple juice she had brought with others in the queue. Little known to Rosina, the king and queen had caused the queue to be watched, so that those who behaved impatiently and badly should be turned away quickly. Rosina’s kindness and good spirits were noted, where a pair of sisters of undeniable beauty were given poor marks for taunting the country girl for her dark hair and tanned skin, whilst they were blonde and pale. She laughed.

“I am as I am, and the prince is as he is. And we will have to wait to find out.”

Behind Rosina there was a genuine princess who had driven from the country next door.

“You cannot expect me to wait in a queue like a commoner!” she cried to the soldiers watching the queue. “I am a princess; I demand to be taken to the palace right away!”

“I am sorry, your highness, only those who wait in the queue will be eligible to be the prince’s bride.”

The princess turned to her maid.

“You queue for me, Zosa,” she said, and without giving the soldiers a chance to point out that only those waiting in the line would be considered, she signalled for her carriage to drive to the inn near the palace.

This led to her arrest when trying to force Zosa out of the line when it reached the palace gates, and she spent some time in the royal castle, but in the dungeon until she was expelled as persona non grata. Meanwhile, Rosina and Zosa had struck up a friendship, and Rosina had produced salves for the maidservant’s poor sore hands where she had hurt them sewing hastily on her princess’s new gown, and for her sore face where she was often slapped. She shared with Zosa that the prince was going to become a dragon, and the other things Clarinetto had told her, and Zosa told her that she had heard from the court wizard that most curses could be broken by love.

 

Rosina was very happy to be inside the palace gates, and to see the palace. It was a building of shining white, being clad in marble, with a massive portico over an entrance held up on columns, approached on both sides by steps up. On the portico were carvings in bas-relief  showing the deeds in battle of a long dead king. It had once shown St. George and the dragon, but that was felt to be tactless, and had been replaced before Draco was born. Slowly the line crept up one of the sets of steps, with girls rejected coming down the other set, which was also used for normal palace business.

Inside the palace, pink marble pillars held up the ceiling, with black and white marble tiles on the floor, and pieces of statuary here and there. Most of them were not wearing very much, which was very heartening to Rosina, as it showed heroes of yore were also not very well off.

 

 

Finally, it was Rosina’s turn to be interviewed. The line was so long that the palace had had to erect toilet and wash tents along the way, this being a permitted reason to leave the line and return [nobody wanted to interview girls who smelled], the place held by carved markers; and food and fresh water was provided. Once in the palace, each girl was helped by maids to spruce themselves up a bit, and those who were shortlisted would be taken to a dormitory and given a new wardrobe, whether successful or not.

“Why do you want to be the wife of a cursed prince?” Rosina was asked, by one of the Queen’s trusted ladies.

“Well, ma’am, I had run away from a man who wanted to use me, and I thought that there might be chance for work as a maid, if I were not chosen, for the successful candidate if nothing else,” said Rosina, humbly. “But also when my magical nightingale told me the prince would become a dragon, I thought that there was nothing more magnificent than to serve a dragon.”

“Please do not tell any of the others this secret,” said the lady. Rosina flushed.

“I am sorry, I already told my friend, Zosa, who was made to wait for the princess she is maid to. I hoped she might be chosen as she already knows court etiquette and is a nice girl, and not her princess, who hits her. And then I might be her maid.”

“Your honesty becomes you,” said the lady.

She was led to the dormitory where half a dozen other girls were the only ones shortlisted. Soon Zosa joined her.

“I am glad I did not lie about knowing the curse and that you told me,” said Zosa. “The lady who interviewed me said if I had not told her, I would have been leaving with most of them.”

Rosina embraced her.

 

It took three days to go through all the girls who wanted to marry Prince Draco, and then they all were presented to him, so he got to see them all. There were seventeen girls who had passed the first tests of being kind, truthful, and patient. Some of them were pretty, some were plain, and some were beautiful, but they had been chosen for their beautiful spirits.  They were also given soft underlinen and pretty gowns, to suit their colouring, and Rosina, dressed in a gown coloured like flames, knew she looked her best. It seemed suitable to meet a boy who would become a dragon!

The boy in question was tall for his age, well-muscled, but slender of waist. His curly golden hair made Rosina want to play with it.

When Prince Draco spoke to Rosina, he smiled and asked, “Have you any questions?”

“Oh, yes, heaps,” said Rosina. “I want to know what your interests are, and I also want to know if you are scared of turning into a dragon, because I should think that such a change must be a little nerve-wracking. And I also want to know what will happen to the sixteen who are not chosen. Because that’s a little nerve-wracking for us, especially my friend, Zosa, who does not want to go back to being a maid to a nasty princess who slaps her if she is not successful. I think she could be, because she is nice, but... oh, dear, I talk too much, don’t I?”

“You have a lovely voice,” said the prince. “I will try to answer your questions. I am interested in being a good man and a good prince, which are not always the same thing, because sometimes a prince has to be a bit unscrupulous for the good of his people.”

“Oh, yes, I can see that,” said Rosina. “And you must balance not getting in the habit of being too unscrupulous.”

“Exactly,” said Draco. “But as well as being a prince, I am a young boy, and I like to play ball games, and to swim, and run, and climb trees, and to ride and hunt. I am not fond of lessons but I know I must do them without fuss. And I must learn all I can before the curse comes upon me... you are the girl who knows what the curse is.”

“Yes, highness, and I am sure you will be magnificent. But I expect you also fear losing your memories and thoughts.”

“I do fear that, and I am afraid of accidentally burning people,” said Draco. “It’s a terrible responsibility being a dragon. I am terrified that I will become wicked, and... and then people will have to kill me.”

“I am sure that whoever you choose as your wife will kill you in that case, with a merciful blow, and then join you by killing herself to be in heaven with you when you have both been through purgatory,” said Rosina. “But if you pray, God will surely help you not to become wicked.”

“I have my own priest to help me,” said Draco. “And as to your third question, everyone who has been chosen here will have the opportunity for work in the palace, as you have all been chosen not to be jealous of whoever is chosen. The cross princess has been sent home.”

“Oh, good,” said Rosina. “She can’t hurt Zosa any more.”

 

The next day was the final test.

Each of the seventeen was taken separately to a darkened ballroom where the lights were arranged to fall on a big dragon in the shadows.  The creature was golden in colour, with darker orange tips to its wings and along its spine.

Rosina came in, and gasped.

“Oh, my prince! Has the curse fallen on you already? You are beautiful,” she said, running forward to touch the muzzle of the dragon. She frowned.

“Mistress Rosina, the dragon is not real, but a facsimile of what his highness will look like,” said Farfanello, who was working the puppet.

“Oh! I am glad, so he can have fun being a boy,” said Rosina.

 

The girls met together, and chatted, as girls will.

“It was unkind of them to spring such a shock on us,” said one girl.

“There had been some hints,” said another, “But I was not expecting it to be so big, with such long teeth.”

“But did you not see how magnificent the scales were, and how beautiful the eyes?” said Rosina. “It would not be hard to continue to love a husband in such a form, so long as he did not lose his personality.”

“Well, I think we know who is chosen,” said another girl, ruefully. “I made a fool of myself.”

“I would not like to live with a dragon,” said Zosa, timidly. “I was not expecting him to be so big.”

 

Eight girls asked to leave, as it was too much of a shock for them. This left nine, including Zosa; and Draco came to the girls’ common room and bowed to Rosina.

“You are my chosen companion, Rosina,” he said.

“Oh! Why, thank you, my prince!” gasped Rosina. “May my friend Zosa be with me?”

“She may; all the rest of the girls may have places as your ladies,” said Draco. “And will you call me ‘Draco’?”

“Oh, thank you, Draco, I should like it very much,” said Rosina.

She was to have lessons in how to be a lady; some of her new tiring ladies were already noblewomen, and others from all walks of life who must learn how to be ladies too. But Rosina quickly learned, and being able to read was soon able to discuss with Draco some of his lessons. They grew up together, exchanging shy kisses when they thought their tutors were not looking.

 

 

And then came the day when Draco was to marry his Rosina, whose only secret regret was that as a dragon, he could not give her a baby. But she loved him very much indeed, and exchanged her vows with him firmly and with no qualms. A sword lay near him, as he must be given the choice of killing his bride or letting his doom fall; and Draco stared into Rosina’s eyes, oblivious to the sword.

“It... it is starting,” he said.

Rosina held his middle finger firmly as it lengthened to be a claw, and he writhed in pain as his body grew, and changed.

She ducked the gout of flame which puffed out near her, and Clarinetto sang to soothe the frightened dragon.

Draco lay down on the ground in front of the cathedral altar, staring at his Rosina with pain in his eyes.

She wrapped her arms around as much of his neck as she could reach and kissed him, tenderly, on the muzzle.

“Rosina!” His voice was hoarse. “You have given me speech!”

Rosina kissed him again. He rubbed his face against her.

“Oh how I wish I could hold you properly,” sighed Rosina, and kissed him again.

There was a flash, and Draco, her handsome husband, stood there again.

“My Rosina! You have broken the curse!” he cried, drawing her into his arms and kissing her as if he would never stop.

They went back to the palace where there was a celebration which lasted a week round. Draco took Rosina to their own chambers to show how much he loved her.

“Oh, my love,” he whispered, “I find now I am free that I can turn into a dragon whenever I want!”

“We can go on flights around your kingdom and right wrongs, then!” said Rosina, enthusiastically.

“My beloved!” said Draco, kissing her again.

 

The dragon’s kingdom was the best regulated kingdom in the world, because no other kingdom dared invade, and nor did any nobles dare misbehave, in case they ended up like Lord Bigolino, who was given a fair trial by the prince, and found that his only choices were to become a peasant or to become crispy. He chose to become a peasant, but did not stop his bad habits and ended up being beaten to death by an outraged father.

Draco and Rosina had five children, two princes and three princesses, all of whom could become dragons at need, and who grew up to be happy and good.