Wind rushed through the trees snapping weak branches as the Blueback dragon swooped down snatching at Isilda with its talons. Isilda rushed to her mount, kicked her pegasus into action and took off, flying low through the trees, seeking to escape the dragon.

Val’s heart drummed in his chest. Terrible images of fangs and fire assaulting Isilda filled his mind. Running to his frightened horse, Val mounted it in one smooth movement and began his pursuit. He might die, but he would do everything in his power to ensure the princess did not.

They snaked through the trees, and overhead, the Blueback roared in frustration while Isilda and her pegasus eluded its jaws. After several minutes of pursuit, the dragon clipped one of the pegasus’ wings, severing feathered muscle from bone. The heavenly pair spun out of control into a downward spiral and crashed in a large meadow clearing. Snarling, the Blueback dove after its double catch.

The crash flung Isilda from her steed, but she rolled away, managing to retain her sword.

The pegasus squealed in terror as the Blueback tore into its ivory flesh. Val reached the clearing, pulled the bow from his back, and nocked an arrow. He kept his eyes on the Blueback as he raised it, taking aim as he drove his horse toward the beast, hooves pounding hard against the dirt.

The princess raised her sword, screaming. The dragon turned and gave a blazing roar, seeking to threaten Isilda with a small burst of fire, but then turned back to its feathered feast. She ran perpendicular to the beast with the speed and grace only an elf could manage and swung, slicing into one of its leathery wings. It let out a shrill screech in pain and drew in its wing, flames erupting past its forked tongue.

Isilda circled, dipping underneath the dragon’s swinging tail. But this time, the dragon anticipated her. As she neared, it batted her like a massive cat playing with a mouse. Isilda instinctively raised her arm to shield her body and was knocked to the ground. She let out a cry as the dragon pinned her with one paw, her face a mix of terror and determination.

Isilda was doomed, so he must make this shot count. Val envisioned a bead on the dragon’s muzzle, took aim, and let the arrow fly. The arrow flew true and pierced the dragon, going through one nostril and lodging right through the other side. The dragon recoiled, bringing its front talons to its nose, clawing at the lodged arrow. Val shot arrow after arrow at the Blueback, many of them ricocheting off of its scaly hide, but some of them finding a place to sink into flesh. It screeched, then abruptly took flight with the remains of the pegasus in its claws.

Val leaped from his horse and Isilda’s side. Her winged steed whined in the throes of death. Its neck had twisted under the weight of the Blueback.

He looked back the way the dragon had flown off, then back to the pegasus. As he stepped towards her body, he brought his sword down in one swift motion. She breathed no more. A deep sting hurt his chest, like a thorn in his heart. But he kept his composure. “Had to put her out of her misery,” he said.

Though teary-eyed, Isilda was okay, save for the way she cradled her wrist.

“Let me see it,” said Val. She pulled back her long draped sleeve to bare her wrist. Val gingerly touched her arm. Such soft, bronze skin. Why, she’s barely a summer older than me. He gently turned her hand this way and that. She did not cry out, but he could read the lines of anguish on her face.

“Looks like it is sprained, but not too bad, my lady. Let me help you into the saddle.”

He helped her stand, letting her lean on him as they neared his horse. Then before she could object, he held her by the waist and hoisted her up onto his horse. She glared at him but said, “Thank you.”

His heart was still beating fast, but no longer from the dragon attack. He realized that he was staring at her dumbly. He’d never seen an actual elf up close before.

“Idiot,” he mumbled to himself. “That thing could come back any minute for a second helping.”

“I can’t just leave you here alone without a horse,” she said.

“Well, what are we to do then?”

“You can ride with me, obviously,” she said. “There is room on the horse. I’ll ride in front of you.”

Val’s mouth hung open. He wanted to object, to say something. But, he also did not have any objection at all. All he managed to get out was, “Right then.”

They rearranged themselves so he rode behind, reaching around the princess to steer the horse. “This way you don’t fall.” He reassured himself that was the only reason.

It was admittedly not comfortable sharing the saddle, but at the same time, he was aware of how very close they were. He clenched the horse with his knees tightly and kicked the horse into a slow trot.

Val became aware of how good her hair smelled. He hoped that his smell did not offend her. He had no access to such luxuries as oils for the skin or hair. He ran his hand across his face. It had never bothered him before, but now that he thought about it, his hair needed a trim, and his stubble was getting scruffy. Who was he fooling though? She did not give a dung heap what he looked like. Still, he would have liked to know when he woke that morning that he would be saving a beautiful lady, nay, a princess, and riding so close on horseback. All because the dragon was not in its cave.

Val envisioned Isilda standing toe to toe with the dragon and his own arrows piercing it until if flew off. He straightened in the saddle throwing his shoulders back. “We just fought a dragon.”

“By ourselves,” Isilda added. “Thank you. You scared it off. I would be worse off if not for your expert shooting.”

“You did well yourself. Holding your ground alone against a Blueback.”

“I suppose Ectar did not get much of a hunt,” she said.

“Unless there were more dragons in the cavern. But I’ve only seen tracks for one adult up here.” His chest burned with dread. The prince set out to hunt a dragon, but in all likelihood, his betrothed got more action today than all his men combined. He would not like that at all. Val couldn’t help but smirk at the prince’s misfortune. But it was followed by a sinking premonition. A man like the prince would only redirect the misfortune on Val. No gold meant no hot mutton, no enchanted ice blade, no opportunities. It meant returning to his village, to his father.

Lost in anxious thought, Val forgot to dismount and lead the horse on foot before they neared the cavern entrance as he intended. Not a moment after this intention crossed his mind, Prince Ectar and Captain Thack came from around a patch of thick bushes.

The prince looked to Val then to his betrothed. “What is going on here? Isilda, where’s your pegasus?”