The Dragon and the Princess
Chapter 6: The Dragon and The Witch

“I truly respect the people who stay strong even when they have every right to break down”

The next day the dragon approached the village. It was a sunny, glorious day and there was a village fayre on. All the people were gathered in their finest clothes and livery, with fanciful hats and bejewelled attire. There was music of all descriptions, drinking and ribaldry and silliness galore! ‘What a happy occasion for the golden dragon to return to after such a sparse and hard existence by the lake!’ he thought to himself as he swooped down in excitement. As he landed, he let out a roar of fire for all to hear his return. “Dragon!” his friends shouted in excitement and rushed towards him, “we thought we had lost you forever!” they cheered. “Well I’m back, who will fetch me a drink to celebrate, it has been many months since I have tasted a good drink, for where I have been it is forbidden?!” The wizard appeared from amongst the crowd and greeted him too, “Welcome back dragon! Are you here to stay?” “I believe so...” said the dragon wryly, happy to see his old friend again. “Then, let’s celebrate!” the wizard replied smiling, and pulled a vial of potion and a box of powder from his sleeve and the two of them made merry together with their friends, dancing and laughing until the sun set.

As night fell, the dragon wondered why the princess wasn’t there, “Where is the princess?” he asked, “Oh…she is coming, I wanted to be alone for a bit...” said the wizard sullenly. Almost as soon as he had spoken, the princess appeared, “Welcome back dragon!” she said warmly, “it’s good to have you back,” casting him a sultry eye. “Ahh, my lady, thank you! It is good to be back!” he replied, holding her gaze. She gave the dragon a warm, inviting smile and he thought how glad he was to see her again. He knew this thought was wrong, for his feelings were not purely those of friendship, and he was finally facing this reality, he had had a lot of time to think; we cannot suppress the heart for long. But he also knew that that was not his path and that he would return to the honour of friendship. Catching each other staring for a little too long, both looked away and blushed. The dragon felt the wizard see this and quickly started conversation again, by way of a distraction. “What shall we do?!” he asked. “Party of course!” replied the wizard, laughing, and the three made merry and danced and imbibed the night (and the following week) away.

For a while, it was like the good old days, with the three of them, and the occasional others, making merry and travelling the village fayre and festival scene that perpetually occurred in the towns and villages near the dragon’s lair. But, it wasn’t long before the dragon felt bad again, he couldn’t remove these feelings for the princess; they just kept coming back and there were too many awkward moments. When the princess was away, the wizard would continue to take other feminines, and the dragon would always dally between friendship and love of each, not knowing what the right thing to do was, settling on holding his tongue and not getting involved in others’ business. We all have our paths to tread, and it is not for us to be the watchmen of others’ journeys. The dragon resolved to tread his own path and he slowly but surely pulled away from their story and began to write his own; going out and doing things on his own until he decided he had no choice but to leave entirely and stole off alone again, one afternoon. As he flapped his great golden wings and launched into the sky, the dragon resolved to go to a party of the clouds, a great gathering of conscious and elevated beings that happened occasionally in the eastern Cloud Lands that the hobgoblins held. He glided there pensively. “I must stop thinking about this silliness...the princess does not belong to me, but to my friend, and I can and will do nothing about it. There is someone out there for me, but I will never replace her if I keep pining for someone else. I must forget all this and get on with my life, I must let go of this idea of a soul partner. There is no such thing and the thoughts of it are what make me think the princess is for me and, also, what stops me replaceing someone. I will think of this no more,” the dragon thought, as he arrived at the party of the clouds, swooping up to the trolls on the door of the cave of the party. Recognising him, they waved him in, well, as much as a troll can do in their lethargic and grumpy way!

It was to be here that the dragon’s prayers were finally answered. As he greeted the head hobgoblin who was throwing the party, he spied a few friends he knew, although not as many as normal. He went down the main stairs into the grotto (where the hobgoblins liked to do their dancing, hobgoblins being the dancing kind of goblin) and had a listen to the music. It was typical hobgoblin fare, very fast paced drums with haunting, though also rapid, melodies, being played on a kitiano. The dragon quite liked cats, and he always felt a bit bad dancing to music played by pulling kittens tails. It was, a very beautiful sound however, and the hobgoblins (obviously) loved it, so he forgot his perturbations and danced a little and caught up with friends. Thirsty, he went to climb the back grotto stairs to get a drink at the bar. Just by the entrance to the stairway he caught a glimpse of a witch who was decorating faces with paint and fairy dust.

He was immediately entranced by this witch and thought for a moment that there was a yellow glow around her, especially when he looked at her through the corner of his deeply seeing eye. She was painting the most wondrous creations of patterns and lines on their faces, and she had a queue of creatures waiting for their turn. It seemed to him that she was not just painting but also bewitching these, mostly masculine, creatures, as she held their heads in her skilful hands. They would rise after their turns as if in a trance and pay her some gold, often more gold than her sign asked for. It was clear that they could not go far from her, circling and returning to the space she held, such was her magik. The dragon decided to receive his own turn and have his ancient face painted too, and so, he joined the queue. The witch was clearly aware of his presence, she had been covertly watching him from the moment he had seen her. She was tall, slender and beautiful, with dark hair, mysterious eyes and wonderful signs, lines and symbols drawn on her face and arms. The dragon thought she was really quite stunning. As though she had read his mind, she snapped a direct look in his direction and their eyes met and held each other. She smiled and the dragon smiled back.

Now wanting to seem cool, the dragon turned away and went up the stairs to get a drink, leaving the queue. He returned shortly after, but hid at the top of the stairs and watched her from afar. The queue was now a longer line of hobgoblins, men, frogs, princes, trolls and other creatures, all waiting for their moment with the gorgeous witch. The forest grump that she was painting at the time was, like the others, in a deep trance as the witch deftly created the most incredible swirls and shapes on his damp and mossy face. When she was done, still under her spell, the grump gave the witch, what seemed to be, all his money from his pocket, as well as a carrier moth with his forests’ name stamped on it. Clearly the grump wanted to see the witch again. Smiling and gracious, she took the money and placed the moth under her hat and he sulked away (as forest grumps do).

The next person in line was a unicorn who was too busy eating rainbow drops to see that his turn had come, and so the dragon slipped down the stairs and went straight up to the witch. “Hey,” he said coolly, “can I have my face done?” “Of course, what do you want done to it?” she purred back, beckoning him to sit. “I don’t know, you decide,” he replied, not wanting to give too much away of himself. He sat down on her stool while she studied his dragon face. “Hmmm,” she mused, gazing deeply into his eyes and smiling sensuously. There was a pause and then she raised her brush to his face with one hand, and held his chin with her other, and began to paint his wizened features. Instantly, the dragon felt bewitched, almost hypnotised, he felt very calm in her hands, indeed, as soon as her fingers had reached his head, it was as though he was being put under a spell, he felt sleepy. “You need to lift your head up,” the witch soothed, noticing that the dragon was becoming like jelly, their faces nearly touching. After a short while, the witch murmured again, “I’ve never seen anyone with such a big heart, your whole body literally rocks with its beat!” “You know, no one has ever noticed that before,” he whispered, “it is a great and infinite heart,” impressed that the witch could see such a thing.

In fact, the dragon had noticed it himself long ago and he always fondly thought of it as a sign that he was a good dragon. She swished and swashed her brush about and it was not long before she was finished. To the dragon, it had seemed an age. He had been almost completely asleep in her dexterous and light hands. She held up a mirror for him to see. It was the most exquisite thing he had ever beholden, a masterpiece of fire and shapes on his dragon face, gold and silver lines and patterns, glittery and sparkly, all at the same time. It truly was the most amazing work of art. She was very talented and the dragon was enthralled. Visibly happy (though still trying to play it cool) and looking her in the eye, he started to get up to leave.

“How much do I owe you?” he asked. “Oh, nothing, that was for free,” she said grinning invitingly. Taken aback, the dragon said, ““For free?! No, no, that won’t do for such a fantastic masterpiece! Perhaps we might dance later, by way of payment? Do you like to dance?” “Yes! I would love that,” she said softly. The dragon rose and left, holding her gaze as he did so. “I will return shortly then,” and with that the dragon walked up the stairs to the bar, taking one last look over his shoulder as he turned the corner. She was still looking at him smiling and the dragon couldn’t help feeling that something magic had just happened. He knew that he was bewitched, but he liked it. She had made him feel like, perhaps, no other.

Later on, after a few more drinks to settle his nerves, the dragon returned to the witch to see if she was ready for a dance, but when he did she still had very big queue of (again) mostly male creatures of the dragons’ world. He didn’t want to disturb her, or seem too keen, so he swiftly turned around before she could see he was there. This continued a few times through the night, the dragon always not wanting to be seen checking on the witch, or to be thought of as too interested. He thought that female creatures, on the whole, didn’t like for males to be too enthralled and so he often played it cool. Indeed, most of the time, he played it too cool and made many feminines he liked think that he did not like them; it was a very real problem for the dragon, and he didn’t really know how to fix it. Predictably, the same thing was happening with the witch and the dragon could see his moment slipping away.

He was growing tired and inebriated from all the drinks he had had, waiting for the witch, and by now he was ready to go home, dance or no. This time and for once however, the dragon steeled himself and went back up to the witch. “Ahh, there you are,” she said, “I’m sorry, it’s been really busy tonight, give me thirty minutes and I’ll be ready.” “I’m sorry,” the dragon slurred mildly, “I have to go home now, but...” fumbling under his wing and pulling out a carrier moth, “...here is how to get in touch with me so we can have that dance I owe you...” She took it and smiled, “but I live very far away, on the coast in Light Town..” but the dragon interrupted her, flapping his wings so the little pixie sitting on the chair, waiting to have his half painted face finished, fell off. “I have wings and I don’t mind using them!” he said proudly and not without some humour. The witch grinned and said, whilst helping the disgruntled pixie back onto his chair, “I’ll be in touch then!” The dragon turned and left, this time not looking back at the ravishing witch but knowing she was watching him. As the dragon flew off into the early dawn, he felt wonderful! It was so funny, he thought that, just when he’d given up on replaceing someone he felt a connection to, that he should meet someone with whom he did. He wasn’t sure that he would ever see her again but he didn’t care, tonight had been just what the dragon needed and he swooped and swirled and glided gaily home.

Two weeks later the dragon had heard nothing from the witch and he had given up hope of any contact. At precisely the point that he had given up and was having a nap in his lair, there was a flapping and a fluttering of velvet wings above his head. His carrier moth landed on his nose. He gently picked it off and got up. It was clearly from the witch. He stroked it and it whispered out its message, “Hello, how are you? I’ve been so busy and thought I’d lost your moth but then this morning, when I was thinking about you, it fell out of my hat! I’d really love to have that dance someday soon…” The dragon leapt up from his chair in excitement, “Yes! She is interested in me!” He was barely able to contain himself. He immediately began to think about his reply.

Once he had formulated it, he whispered it into the moth’s antennae and sent it on its way back to the witch. He had whispered “I wondered what happened to you…of course I’d like to have that dance, how about I fly down to Light Town tomorrow and take you out?” Quite a long time passed, with the dragon waiting pensively in his lair, before another moth arrived, “That sounds delicious, let’s meet at the Pirates Inn when the moon rises tomorrow,” she replied. The dragon was ecstatic. He had not felt like this in such a long time, he didn’t know what to do, none of the other maidens or female creatures he had met had excited him so. Furthermore, he was starting to feel nervous more than excited, “What if she thinks me unsuitable in the end? What if it’s a disaster!?” These thoughts and more were racing endlessly around his head, as he paced back and forth in his lair, and so he decided to preen himself and get ready for the big date, to take his mind away from his thoughts.

The next day, looking shiny and golden, he swooped down, a little early, outside the Pirates Inn. The coastal regions were full of some of the strangest creatures of all the kingdoms, a melting pot of odds and oddballs and strange things from faraway lands. He had spent time here before and was only now remembering the peculiarities of this place. There were the Black Wearers, who only wore black, and had long black fingernails and black around their mouths. There were the Chavertons, a tribe of people who mainly got drunk, had fights, swore a lot and acted as though they hated all other kinds. There were the Pirates, the Sea People and the Crusties, the Jelly People, the Conjurers and the Majestics, in short, there were many different kinds of creatures that called Light Town home and they were all very interesting and strange in their own way. As he was observing all the different kinds of things coming into and out of the Inn, he heard the witch’s sultry voice behind him, “Hello!” she meowed and kissed him on the cheek with a quick hug, “Nice to see you again!” She smelt good and he tingled with her touch. “Hi!” he said, trying his hardest to control his nerves that were now rising within him.

He engaged in a little light conversation, asking how she was and such like. “Shall we go in?” he asked, after a short while of pleasantries. “Yes,” she replied, smiling cheekily, “lets!” and they went inside the Inn. The dragon went up to the bar and turned to ask the witch what she would like to drink, but she wasn’t there. She was, instead, saying hello to lots of different creatures inside the Inn. She seemed to know everyone and they were, to about three quarters, male. After some time she joined him at the bar, “What would you like to drink,” he asked, feeling a little less special than a moment ago. “Oh, I don’t drink,” she replied, “but I’ll have a water if that’s ok.” The dragon ordered an ale and a water for the witch and they found a seat and began to talk and replace out about each other.

He learned that she only drank water and only ate fruit, with no other exceptions, and that she was particularly against sugars, smoking, potions and imbibing of all sorts. The dragon thought that it was strange about the sugar, as fruit clearly had sugar, but also witches were normally known to be more relaxed about these sorts of things. He also felt silly as he had already lit up his pipe and was smoking as she said this. Therefore, feeling like it was important that he had things in common with the witch, he lied about his past (and present) potion and suchlike usage and said that he was also somewhat of a purist as the witch and that he wasn’t really a big smoker but just liked to have one with his ale.

As the night drew on, they found out more and more about each other, laughed and generally had a good time, with the occasional interruption from some man or male who greeted the witch and ignored the dragon. The dragon told the witch all about himself and probably, in his excitement, said too much and almost certainly lost some of that cool mysteriousness he had been trying to nurture. He also found out that the witch was unusual, lived an unusual life and had plans to go away to the jungle lands of the east at some point soon. He was hooked, and the two of them talked and talked for hours. Most notably, he thought, she was as interested as him in the spiritual side of life and this enthused him greatly.

As the Inn was closing up, he suggested they go for a walk by the sea and talk some more. He was slightly drunk now, and more emboldened, and as they were walking and talking he grabbed her and kissed her on the lips. “Ooh, you’re naughty!” she grinned, and paused, “…would you like to be more naughty?” she asked with an erotic look on her face. “Yes!” the dragon replied, and so she whispered into his ear a place they could go. He grabbed her in his arms and flew off in a hurry and they arrived at her coven where she lived with a Majestic who was away travelling the distant lands of the world. That night they lay together and the dragon thought that it was the most wondrous time he had ever had, and he was pretty sure she had enjoyed it too.

When morning came, they kissed and hugged and the dragon took her for some morning fruit. It was then that she shocked him. “I have another,” she said matter of factly. “He is in the jungles of the east and I intend to go see him there soon.” The dragon was immediately heart broken, his fire lessened and he didn’t know what this meant. “But! I really like you, I’ve told him about you, and if it’s ok with you, I’d like to see you both. I am not ready for you yet, I have promised myself to him first and so I must go. I will be with him when I am there and with you when I am here. We can reconnect on my return and then, perhaps, I will be ready for you. That is ok, isn’t it dragon?” she asked. Of course, what could he say? It was not ok with the dragon, he felt hurt and betrayed, but he also knew he was falling in love with the witch and so what could he do? “Yes of course that is ok,” he replied boldly, and again, telling her what she wanted to hear, “I will wait for your return.” Visibly happy, she kissed him and hugged him. “I can’t wait to see you again! There’s something special about you dragon.” “Well, I’ll be off then my lovely witch,” as he felt his fire in his belly lessen further, and bidding her farewell with another kiss, he flapped his wings and flew off into the midday, back towards his lair.

He was very confused now. He knew that the people of Light Town were unusual and he guessed that they were more free with their loves than he was accustomed to. He wanted to show he was up to the task, that he was the same as the witch and so he had agreed with her strange request. But already now, he was full of doubt and bad feeling. He mulled it all over on his flight home. “Certainly, she is the one for me, there has been no other like this and I cannot imagine there will be any better. So, surely, if this is what I must do to get her, then this is what I must do,” he thought. “I can do this, maybe this different approach is what I have been missing, seeking to make one mine, when the best won’t be had, at least not without a fight

Weeks passed, and the dragon had heard nothing of the witch. He had also done nothing but think about her. He’d changed his ways in the hope it would make her dearer to him and given up all potions, powders, smoking and drinking. He drank only tea or water, ate very healthily, had cleaned his lair and withdrawn from his friends. He’d also got back into his spiritual practice. Not of a religion, but of his own way, meditating and movement with a focus on The Creator. It was doing him good but he felt terrible. In fact his life was very boring now and it was all for the witch, as though creating a window for her return. And through this window, came nothing but angst, doubt and fear. Her lack of contact was a heavy burden and one day he could take no more.

“AAARRRRRGGGGGGGG she tortures me so! I’m so in love with her, I was from the moment I set my deep seeing eyes on her, and yet she keeps my heart distant, like a play thing, for when she’s ready for it! I can’t bear this. It is a very great pain in my unfathomable heart. Oh Creator, hear me, please, PLEASE! Please hear me, please say she loves me as I love her, please say when she says she’s not ready, that she means that she will be. Say that she is coming back to me as we speak, that she will be mine!” Nothing happened and more time passed and the dragon grew more and more weary and upset. After some more time, it had been nearly two cycles of the moon, he resolved to end it and move on as best he could. He composed a long message telling the witch that he was wrong, it wasn’t ok with him, he couldn’t wait and he didn’t feel it was right what she was doing, and much more besides, and he called an eagle to send it to her in the jungle lands. As he whispered his long message into the eagle’s ear, it cried, looked at him with love and flew off into the sunset sky.

The very next day he heard an eagle circle above his lair and he came outside to have it land on his shoulder. “Dragon!” it said on her behalf, “I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch, things have not been going well here and I have resolved to come home, to see you. I got your message, and I understand, but if you would see me again and hear my story, I would really appreciate it. I do love you, and I do not love him, I know that now and I can’t wait to see you!” He was overjoyed at this message, and felt a little silly for his own, and he jumped into the air with a great flap of his wings, so that the eagle fell off his shoulder and flapped awkwardly around on the floor. “Oh! Sorry great eagle, sorry, here let me help you,” and he picked it up gently. “Now, take this message back to the witch” and he whispered to it, “Yes, of course I will see you, forget my message, come as soon as you can!” giving too the whereabouts of his lair. He threw the eagle into the air, “fly eagle, fly like the wind!” he said excitedly. It was possible that he was too excited. A small voice in the dragon’s mind told him that perhaps this was a mistake, that he had made his mind up for good reason and that he should stay the course but, who listens to sense when they are in love (or bewitched).

A few weeks later, he heard a swooshing sound, the sound of broomsticks, outside his lair and then he heard that same sultry seductive voice outside the cave opening. “Hello!? Dragon? Where are you?” “Is that you, oh witch! At last, you have come back to me!” and he came outside and grabbed her. She hugged him back and they kissed and immediately lay with each other right there in the lair’s entrance, her screams of pleasure echoing throughout the cave. After some time and lots of talking (and more) they were firmly together. She had explained that who she had been with, a ballet elf it turns out, had been a tyrant and asked too much of her. In fact, she had had to escape rather than leave as he hadn’t wanted her to go. He was too needy, she said, and stood in the way of her freedom. The dragon resolved to never be like that, despite his own strong feelings to want to have the witch, and he bought her story unquestionably from beginning to end.

He, of course, had forgiven her and decided to give the witch whatever she asked for. As though reading his mind she said, circling her finger on his great chest, “Umm, dragon, tomorrow is a great fayre in the Secret Garden, and I wondered if you would go with me? In fact, it is the start of the fayre and festival season and I was hoping you might come with me to them all whilst I paint faces and recoup all the money I’ve lost, as the elf made me give him all my money when I arrived, to keep me prisoner.” “Well of course I will, that sounds like a lot of fun, I will happily take you anywhere you wish!” he replied magnanimously and smiling, “Oooohh, you really are the best,” she grinned as she kissed him on his jowl. They made love again and as they drifted off to sleep she sighed warmly, “No one has ever made me feel this way dragon!” He smiled and hugged her closer, glad he made her happy.

The next morning the dragon awoke and, after a quick sleepy eyed cuddle with the witch, left her in bed. He had his thunder brew, had a quick smoke on his pipe and then packed up his stuff. He got together all you need for a festival or fayre: a big tent like the desert people use, bedding, pillows, some fancy hats and dress and sparkly accessories, a large umbrella in case it rained or was very sunny, something to drink and smoke (which he didn’t want the witch to see), and lots of similar things to make the time pass well, in comfort and (above all) with a little magic. The sun was at the tenth point in the sky and the witch was still asleep. “She must be tired from her great journey,” he thought, and so, to pass the time, he surveyed his lair to see if he had forgotten anything. He noticed that she had already made herself at home and her things were strewn all over the place, emptied from her bottomless bag.

There were her paints and makeup, her brushes and table and chairs which she all used to paint people’s faces with. There was her magic mirror, with which you could see the whole world through, or whatever you wished really. There was her message set, with its eagles, carrier moths and singing beetle. The beetle was singing occasionally, with obviously someone trying to get through to the witch, and there were quite a few new carrier moths fluttering their wings, notifying of new messages received. There were also lots of eagles. The witch was a mystery to the dragon still and, being now quite obsessed, a part of him wished to see what the messages were and who they were from. But, he resisted as it was not right, and instead he continued to observe her mess. The most of it was her clothes, almost a mountain of cloaks, knickers, stripy socks, hats and so on. He noticed she had separated them into a clean and dirty pile so he decided to do a nice thing and wash the dirty pile in his whirlpool.

He had no sooner finished, and was hanging it all out to dry when he heard a meowing sound coming from his bed chamber. “She is awake at last!” and he quickly went to the bed. “Hmmmm, morning dragon,” she purred, grabbing him and pulling him into bed with her. They lay together a while. The dragon was very happy in this moment with the witch, they loved each other well and she smelt so good, he simply couldn’t resist her and he wanted to give her everything. “I’ve washed your clothes and packed my stuff, the clothes will be dry soon, and I think we should go forthwith as the day is drawing on.” “What time is it?” she murmured, “It’s the 12th point,” he answered. “What! Oh my, we do need to go,” and she jumped out of bed. There was a flurry of activity that followed, she grabbed all her stuff and shoved it into her bottomless bag, slightly damp clothes included. She washed her face and put some paint on and various other lady things, in his cave pool area.

The dragon waited and then had a quick wash himself, when she was finished. He put on some jewels from his huge pile (dragons don’t sleep on jewels and gold as some people think, but they certainly do collect them) and came out into the main area of his cave. The witch was checking her eagles and messages when he did, but as soon as she saw him she swept it all back into the message set box and shoved it into her bag. The dragon was a bit inquisitive about this act but he chose to ignore and forget it. “I’m ready,” she said hurriedly. “Well then my witch, climb upon my back and we shall be off!” he said smiling with love.

As they flew to the secret garden, the dragon tried to keep the conversation flowing and asked the witch more about her time in the jungle lands, focussing on the bits without the elf. “Oh, it is so wonderful there, dragon, the people and creatures are so kind and lovely, the weather so perfect and the scenery so beautiful. It is a very special place where you can really connect with your soul. We danced and laughed and ate such good food, you really must go there someday.” “Oh, yes,” he replied, “I intend to, I am surprised I haven’t been yet, it certainly is on my list of kingdoms I wish to see.” They talked and talked, the witch not telling much about herself or her past, but a lot about what she thought the dragon wanted to hear. She told him of the difference between magic and magik, and similar things. He felt that they were well paired, as the conversation was interesting, if not sometimes awkward.

As the sun was going down they arrived at the Secret Garden. It truly was the most exquisite and fantastical place. It was covered in lights and glitter and art, silly signs on trees and beautiful music flowing all about. There were tents and bars and secret places, caves and pools and happy faces. People dressed as kings and queens, or in rainbows and sparkles and shiny things, people dressed silly and well, gloriously and, some, completely naked. There were more maidens here than females, but there were also creatures from all around the world, such was the attraction of this secret place of whimsy, with its doctrine of “Yes!” and total positivity.

Everywhere there was joy, music, love, laughter, things to see and do and replace, in short, it was a heaven of fun and goodness! The dragon landed in a clearing near a covering of trees and began to unpack his things and set up their camp. The witch, almost as soon as they had landed, said, “Umm, dragon, I need to go and start painting faces as the night draws near, can I leave you here and see you later? I’ll be by the big lake, it’s my usual spot.” The dragon would rather have had the witch help and wait a little but of course he was in love and he wanted what the witch wanted, so he, predictably, said yes to her request. She kissed him and hugged him with a squeal of joy and then picked up her bag and walked off into the woods.

After an hour or so, the dragon was finished. He had a little swig of his vial of drink (his favourite, a type of pirates brew), had a smoke on his pipe, checked his appearance to see that he was looking majestic and forayed into the environs of the Secret Garden. It wasn’t long before he saw many friends he knew and, not wanting to bother the witch while she was working, he played with them a little and got into the swing of things. Some of these friends were the badgers and they were wild creatures who knew how to have a good time, so the time passed very well indeed.

After a few hours, he decided to go look for the witch by the big lake and arranged a place and time to meet his friends later, they also told him that they might bring the wizard with them too, if they could replace him, and he was very much looking forward to introducing everyone to his new beloved. He got to the big lake, and circled it twice, but he could not see the witch. A little mystified, he went back to the tent to see if she was there. Her message set was laid out on the bed, her beetle was gone but there were lots of moths and a few eagles, so he knew she had been here while he was gone, but she was nowhere to be seen. By this time, he realised, it was time to meet his friends, so he went to the arranged place. Sure enough they were all there this time, the wizard and the princess, the pirate and badgers, hobgoblins and most of his friends, old and new. They had all been ingesting powders and potions that the wizard supplied and all were making very merry indeed.

“Dragon!” they called out, “how wonderful you are here! Let us party like the good old days! Here have some of this potion” a forest grump gleefully said (the only time they are not grumpy is with a potion you see), “And take this powder, my old dear friend,” said the wizard, “we have missed you these last few moons!” The dragon felt that he shouldn’t take the powder, in honour of the witch, but he had some of the potion and caught up with his friends. The princess was in a trance and barely noticed the dragon or anyone else. Despite this, they all made merry and the dragon told of the witch and what he had been up to. “Oh, I’m so happy for you, dragon, I know this is what you have always wanted,” said the wizard. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a little powder, or perhaps some of this herb?” “Oh, no thank you,” he replied, “but the witch wouldn’t like that, and I have to be true to her.”

Slightly disappointed the wizard took a huge pile of the magic powder and puffed on his herbal pipe. In truth, the dragon did want the powder, he was feeling a little unattached from the others who were all in their trances, and he couldn’t really relax and have a good time without joining in, he hadn’t really partied before without some intoxication, but, he felt a little warmth from the small amount of potion he allowed himself, and, he felt good that he was doing the right thing.

A clamour arose from amongst the group, “A poem! A poem, Wizard, tell us a poem,” the pirate shouted. “Haha, ok, ok,” the wizard replied, and he pulled a scroll from his sleeve and read:

“Alcohol soaked dreams

Drug infused nightmarish scenes

I want to wake and end it all

But I cannot move I am enthralled

A winding road I can’t see where it stops

I can hear a gentle tickety tock

My heart is in my throat

And I am surrounded by a moat

A shape of slithery shiny death

Is in the water two fathoms abreast

I must get out but like it here

I must get out the creature’s near

I like the smell I love the taste

I can’t stop and cannot waste

But with every sip and toke and every touch

The monster nears it’s about to lurch

I try to jump but chains hold me fast

Chains I made with every laugh

With every fun time given by those things

I was entrapping and locking myself in

But wait, a light bright up ahead

A thread comes from it above my head

A voice says use it to cut the chains

But to do so you must maintain

An end and stoppage to all before

You must begin afresh for ever more

You must give up that which put you here

Hurry now the creature draws near

But too late the daemon jumps in front of me

I see now what was so fearful and scary

A construct of all that I have loved

A drug and passion treasure trove

The hellish sight opens up my eyes

I realize now that I will die

For despite my fear my terrific shame

I want to stay and try to tame

The creature for it is only what I want

I have to stay though I know I can’t

I put my hand on the animals head

And accept my fate, now I am dead!”

The wizard bowed with a cheeky grin. The pirate cheered and everyone else fell about applauding and laughing. The dragon was very happy to be with his friends, they were all very talented and wonderful people. He was having a fantastic afternoon, tainted, slightly, by the absence of the witch.

A little while later, with the others further and further into their stupors, he resolved to look again for the witch, hard as that was in the chaos and revelry of the Secret Garden. He wandered about, looking in and around the various hideaways, tunnels, holes, lakes, pools, forests, woods, tents and so on. It was very late, past the peak of the moon, and he was growing more and more sullen. “Where is she? We are supposed to be here together, why wasn’t she at the lake? What is going on?” he thought. At that moment though, he spied her out of the corner of his eye, she was dancing on a nearby hill with a warrior of the feather tribe, he was wearing wings and covered in feathers from head to toe, and she was also wearing wings, big white swan wings attached to her back.

He felt a small pain in his belly and his belly fire lessened again, but he knew she had lots of male friends so he put any fears to one side and ran up the hill, “There you are, oh lovely witch!” She turned sharply (to an outsider not bewitched, it would have been suspiciously) and she blushed a little, before even this sign disappeared. The dragon, of course, didn’t want to notice this so he didn’t. “There you are dragon! I’ve been looking for you, why did you not come to the lake?!” “But I did,” he replied, “you were not there!?” Taking him by the hand and leading him off, without introducing him to anyone, she said, “come, let us get a warm drink from the lizard’s tent over here, they have the best chai in all the kingdoms…” He followed with her, not noticing the feather warrior staring at the two of them, and when they got to the counter she ordered some chai and said “would you pay? I left my gold in the tent.” “Of course, my lovely witch,” he generously said, and paid the lizard the appropriate coinage. He turned to chink glasses with her but she was off again, swirling and dancing and saying hello to friends. The dragon was starting to feel pretty awful by this point, but again, he refused to listen to his fears and tried to be as free as she was, seeming to not care and dancing around as well, he thought that he had to let her be free to have her.

One or two songs later (the lizards like folk style music with guitars and lyres and soulful singers) the dragon was growing bored and he sat down and had a puff of his pipe. The witch was still away dancing and he felt rather alone and bemused. Deciding that he had had enough of the night and with the dawn approaching, he went up to the witch. “I grow weary my love and I think I will head back to our tent, would you come with me?” He expected the witch to say no as she was clearly enjoying herself, but instead she agreed, perhaps sensing the dragon’s estrangement. They walked back silently to the tent. Once there, the dragon decided he could hold his tongue no longer and he confessed what was going on inside his dragon mind. “Magikal witch, I must say I thought we would spend more time together. Also, who was that warrior with whom you were dancing, you seemed to be really quite close?” “Oh, him! Don’t worry about him, he’s just one of my exes, and don’t fret about me, I am with you, but I like to be free and I am here to work above all, you enjoy yourself and have a good time, we will spend time together I promise!” Her words worked and the dragon was calmed a little and they kissed and lay with each other until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. He was happy again and he drifted off and felt a little silly for his fears.

The next morning he awoke with a slightly heavy head from the little potions he had had and rolled over to cuddle the witch. She was not there. Her painting equipment was also still there but her swan wings were gone. There was also, at the end of the bed, her beetle. He lay there for some time and tried to work out what was going on. He loved her so, he had spent much time in his bewitchment and the resulting love of her was hooked deep into his heart. But there was also something not right. He wasn’t so foolish as to not see that. At last, he could not control himself any longer and he picked up her beetle and opened its wings to hear her messages.

“Lovely witch, I miss you so, I am sorry about before, come unto me now and I will make you happy,” the most recent one said. His heart sank and his fire lowered. He opened the next message, her reply, “Oh warrior, how I long to be with you again and not with the dragon, he is too needy and a tyrant upon my soul.” A tear rolled down the dragon’s weary face. He read on, to the next message, the first one between them, from her to the warrior, “Warrior, I am back and I am coming to the garden with a friend, it would be so good to see you, I miss you!” The dragon threw the beetle on the bed and collapsed backwards. Smoke came out of his nose, the smoke from a fire extinguished. And he cried, heartbroken. How long he lay there, he didn’t know. He was distraught and felt like a huge fool. After the pain had become a numbness, he rose and decided to go out and replace her.

This time he flew, circling the garden looking for the witch. He couldn’t replace her though and instead found his friends who were still partying from the night before, gathered around a pool in the woods. The Wizard and the princess were asleep, upside down from a tree, and they were surrounded by a debauched and tired scene of very inebriated woodland animals and other creatures and people of the kingdoms that made up the bulk of his friends. He didn’t say a word, and his friends were unable to, but next to him a mole covered in glitter with an inane smile on his face offered up a claw with a pile of powder on it. The dragon snorted the powder immediately and without question. He felt a little better now and he lay there, thinking.

A while later, as the powder wore off he was starting to feel his fire return and also to feel himself quite angry. He let out a roar and with it a huge flame of fire came out of his mouth and incinerated a tree. His friends were all now passed out completely and no one noticed. He got up and splashed water from the pool to put the fire out and flapped his great wings and launched into the air. He flew back to the tent and emptied the witch’s things from it and stuffed it into her bottomless bag. He then picked this up and flew high again looking for the witch. It wasn’t long before he found her this time. She was lying on the warrior in the place where the fauns played. He circled and circled trying to calm himself down but the sight was too much, the whole ordeal was too much and he let out another roar, this time one that could be heard from miles around. The witch immediately got up and tried to hide her shame but it was too late and the dragon landed in front of her.

“Witch, here is your bag, I do not want to have anything to do with you anymore! It is over and I see now that I have been a fool. I do not wish you harm nor to your lover, but for me, I cannot continue with this. Good day!” and he bowed and flapped his wings lifting off into the morning air. “Dragon! Haha,” she giggled, trying to chase after him, “Dragon, you’re being silly, I do love you, you’re so good to me, why cannot I have you both?” But it was too late, this was not the dragon’s way and he knew that now, he knew he had to be true to himself, she had used him and he was gone, flying off high away from her; the spell was broken.