Fic : St. George Never Had To Deal With This, PG
Title: St. George Never Had To Deal With This
Pairings: Kevin Jonas/Mike Carden, implied Vanessa Hudgens/Zac Efron
Rating: PG, basically kid friendly
Warnings: None
Summary: Mike is a Dragon Slayer with an asterisk(very little slaying or dragons are actually involved) and Kevin is a princess, who's being held by a very nice, sort of dumb dragon. There are shenanigans.
Technically Mike was a “Sentient Animals Negotiation Specialist”, but that didn’t fit very well on the cards, no matter how much Bill whined. So they’d printed “Dragon-slayer” in big letters across the top and added a foot-note you could read with a microscope. Fuck it. The point was slaying dragons was only a very minor part of his job description and hacking his way through the jungle wasn’t in there anywhere.
“Actually, this is a temperate rain-forest,” the dragon said, when he’d finally made his way through the last tangle of blackberries, cursing all berries and dragons. “I mean, sort of like a jungle, but not quite. Not as hot for one thing, and no feathered serpents.”
Mike glared at him.
“Hi. Fuck you. I’m Sir Michael Carden.”
“Hi, Sir Michael,” the dragon rolled over on his back, scratching his belly. “I’m the Dread Dragon Zac. Did you want something?”
Mike was totally switching careers. There was an opening downtown for “Giant Killer*” and he could totally do that. Giants lived on top of giant bean stalks, giant, easily climbed bean stalks with no thorns, or stinging nettles. He had a feeling he was going to be pulling blackberry spikes out of his ears.
“I’m here to formally petition for the release of Princess Kevin of Disnea,” Mike used the sword he was using to hack through the brush to gesture into the cave. “Is she in there?”
“Uh,” Zac looked over his tail. “Sure. Sort of.”
That sounded… less than promising.
“You didn’t eat her, did you?” He asked. Fuck, there went his fee.
Zac seemed to be choking on something.
“No,” he gasped. “No, I didn’t eat. Her.”
“Fine.” Mike snapped. “Then can I see her? Princess first, talk later.”
“Um. Sure.” Zac twisted around into his cave. “Kevin?”
There was a soft murmur from the back of the cave, then Zac somersaulted over, and the princess clambered over his back to get out.
“Hi!” She carolled cheerily. “Was that you swearing back there? What do all those words mean, well, not all of them, I know some, my brothers tell me the not so bad ones, but the ones with all the F-words tied in there?”
Mike raised an eyebrow. Generally, when Mike raised an eyebrow, the world sort of shuddered and slowed down. Somehow, this time, it continued turning.
Kevin was a few inches smaller than him, with big brown eyes and surprisingly short hair for a princess. She had a poet’s forehead and cupid bow lips.
She also had an adam’s apple, a red tunic and a voice that, while definitely on the high and squeaky side, was absolutely not a typical princess’s, tiara or not.
“You’re Princess Kevin?”
The boy nodded, cheeks pinking slightly.
What Mike said next was less than politic. In fact, it was downright rude.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
……………………………………..
“It’s gender discrimination to say that I can’t be a princess,” Kevin folded his arms across his chest and glared at Mike.
Mike rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not.”
“Technically,” Zac says, grooming his ears. “”Princess” is more like a job description than a gender specific title. You know, scream a lot, get kidnapped, prick fingers-“
“Save the day!” Kevin interjects.
“Sure. My point is that being a princess is more about the way you act than what’s in your pants. Or under your skirt.”
Kevin nods firmly.
“Whatever,” Mike really needs a beer. “Look, I’m here to rescue you.”
“Oh, really?” Kevin looks around. “Where’s everyone else?”
…………………………………….
It takes a while to get the story of why Zac kidnapped Kevin in the first place out of them, mostly because they keep interrupting each other and at one point, Mike has to step in and stop a slap fight.
Basically, though, it all comes down to Zac wanting a present for this female dragon two valleys over.
“See, The Dread Dragon Ashley has a princess, right? And we hang out with The Dread Dragon Vanessa,” Zac pauses to sigh here, eyes glazing over. “She totally thinks Demi is adorable and stuff. So, I thought maybe she’d want a princess of her own, but it turns out that her mom’s allergic. So, now we’re kind of at a stalemate.”
Mike’s pretty sure this is the stupidest rescue he’s ever done and he once had to untie William’s boyfriend from a sea serpent after a surfing incident.
“Really?” He asks. He’s not sure it’s sarcastic enough. Definitely not, Zac and Kevin are both nodding earnestly.
“Yeah, and, I mean, you can’t just give a princess back once you’ve kidnapped it. So I need to think of something to trade for Kevin, right? Something that Vanessa would like. I’m thinking diamonds.”
“I don’t think my family has any diamonds,” Kevin says apologetically. “Anyhow, I was thinking pearls would be better.”
“Diamonds are shiny,” Zac points out. “Girls like shiny.”
“Pearls are more of a feminine mystique thing, though,” Kevin points out. “Trust me on this. Any dude could get her diamonds, but pearls show thought.”
Mike really needs a beer.
“You think?”
Mike’s had a lot of time to perfect his ability to read a dragon’s emotions. He’s never, in the ten years he’s been doing this, seen a dragon looking more like a love-lorn schoolkid than any love-lorn schoolkid he’s ever met.
“I know.” Kevin says. “This one guy “This one guy, right? He wanted to really impress me, so he could get a kiss and be restored to his proper form. So, he took a bottle and some tissue paper and made me this awesome vase. I still have it, but anyway, the point is he took the time and thought into the present, and that was way better than ten gold necklaces with rubies the size of eggs.”
Zac looked confused.
“Wait,” he said. “I should make her a paper vase?”
“No,” Kevin shook his head. “What I mean is, the whole reason you got into this mess in the first place was by not thinking about what you were doing. I mean, really, before giving someone a pet, the cardinal rule is that you should always ask. If you’d asked, Vanessa would have said that it was a very nice gesture, but her mom was allergic. Now I’m stuck living in your cave and you have to negotiate with a slightly scary guy who clearly hasn’t had his coffee yet. Would you like some coffee, Sir Michael?”
Mike weighed the pros and cons of doing this with and without coffee that may have been sitting at the back of a cave for the past millennium with a fire-breathing flying lizard.
“Sure,” he agreed.
…………………………………………
In the end, they decided on ten strings of pearls that Kevin claimed were sitting at the back of his dad’s treasure room and that had supposedly been there for two generations without anyone noticing would be a good ransom. Mike wasn’t sure he had been there, it seemed that Kevin and Zac had done all the arguing themselves.
“It’s too much,” Zac protested, for the third time, while Mike packed his things.
“Are you saying I’m not worth ten strings of pearls?” Kevin retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “They should feel lucky that’s all we’re asking for.”
“Whatever,” Mike said, picking up his sword and putting his helmet back on. “I’ll be back by tomorrow.”
………………………………………
“This wasn’t really what we had in mind when we hired you, Sir Michael,” Crown Prince Nicholas said, rubbing his eyes.
“We were sort of picturing you bringing the head of this dragon-thingy back and making some kind of speech in the throne room,” The other prince, Joseph, reclined on the windowseat and plucked on the lute as he spoke. “Then we’d all talk about how grateful we were, make an offer to marry Kev-“
“Regardless,” Nicholas shot his brother a slightly poisonous look. “It’s really not Disnea’s policy to negotiate with terrorists, human or- or otherwise.”
“Dragons aren’t exactly terrorists, your highness,” William pulled off his glasses, polishing them. “They’re simply different. The rules that humans follow with dragons-“
“They’re animals!” Nicholas snapped, glaring at him. “I’m not about to negotiate with some overgrown lizard-monster for my own brother.”
“That’s not exactly wise, your highness,” William continued, smiling tightly. “The Rules of Negotiation were laid down centuries before any of us were born. If they aren’t followed precisely we could find ourselves at war with the Beasts again, and, let’s be fair, by the time the Rules were written, we were losing. Fairly badly, I might add.”
Nicholas set his jaw, stubbornly.
“Our kingdom’s policy is clear, regardless,” he said, through clenched teeth, then added, looking a little lost. “Besides, my parents would kill us.”
“One might,” William said. “Think they’d be too overjoyed at the return of their oldest child to be too concerned over the loss to the treasury.”
Nick shook his head. “The treasury doesn’t just belong to us, Mister Beckett. It really belongs to the kingdom. The money and jewels aren’t just for show. If the harvest fails, if the fish change their migratory routes, if we’re attacked by another country, the treasury goes to support the people. It’s not for us to use selfishly.”
Joseph’s lips thinned, but he didn’t say anything.
“What if you asked your people?” William said. “They seem to be very fond of all of you, surely-“
“You have an entire fucking treasury!” Mike snapped. “Chests of gold and silver, banknotes, ten gold necklaces with rubies the size of eggs-“
“Quail eggs,” Joseph muttered.
Mike ignored him. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Everyone was silent.
Nicholas spoke first.
“We’ll wait until Mother and Father are back.” He rested his head on his hands. “They’ll be returning in two months, if the weather holds. Three if it doesn’t.”
If the winter came early, if a storm rose in the East, or any of the other small disasters that sent delicate plans into tailspins brewed.
“Nick,” Joseph started, falling silent at a gesture from the younger man.
“You said the dragon wouldn’t eat him,” Nicholas raised his head and met Mike’s eyes.
Mike shrugged. “It’d be like us eating a dog as far as I can tell.”
“They tend to think of us as particularly intelligent animals,” William explained. “Some of them even study us, the way we study animals like apes and octopi.”
All he got for his efforts were three blank stares. Joseph picked up his lute again and concentrated very hard on that.
Mike stood up and pulled his coat on.
“I’ll pass it on to them,” he said shortly, ignoring William’s reproving glance. “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.”
It was warm outside, with a gently greying sky that spoke of warm summer rain that would last the night and vanish in the morning. His horse looked up as he approached, disappointed but not surprised to be pulled away from paddock and stall up into the hills again.
The trees were thicker near the mountain, less the well-tended garden that Disneans made of their woods and more an honest tangle of brambles and branches. It faded the sunlight and made dark tunnels here and there where riders could go unseen, though not unheard. Mike heard hoofbeats behind him.
Damn.
He rode ahead, into one of the tunnels and waited. The rider got closer, carelessly.
Mike glanced behind him and saw the branches bend at about his shoulder height while riding. They stopped moving, then started again when he looked away. He waited, occasionally taking a step or two to make it look like he was moving, until a branch at his mount’s withers bent.
He reached out, swearing, and got a handful of wool and cotton for his trouble, while the air blurred, resolving itself into a small, angry child.
“Let go of me!”
He was very small and somewhat plump, but strong. There were hints here and there as to his heritage, somewhat refined and hardened, and Mike thought longingly about his bed.
Or a bed, anywhere, where he could wake up and not have taken this job on.
“Look, kid,” he said, and he sounded short, he knew, the kid widened big brown eyes nervously and bit his lip. “It’s been real nice meeting you, but I’ve got to go tell a princess that his brothers are too afraid of getting grounded to rescue him, so if you don’t-“
He cut himself off when the kid held up his hands. Pearls rolled over his fingers, shimmering even in the grey light of the woods.
“Shit.”
…………………………………………
It turned out the youngest brother was named Frankie and someone should seriously have cut the kid’s library access off, because he’d found a book of invisibility spells last week and mastered the first level in an hour. Apparently, he was also precocious.
“Kevin’s nice,” Frankie added. “He helps Stella make all our clothes and used to tell me stories when I was little.”
“What, last week?” Mike was busy tying the horses together, because, two spells after the fact, it was clear that Frankie couldn’t be trusted to go home on his own.
“I’m nine!”
“My point,” Mike said, then jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Frankie’s horse. “Mount up, short stuff.”
Frankie glared at him, then, suddenly, smiled beatifically.
“I really am little,” he said, suddenly.
Mike sighed and crossed his arms. “Yes?”
“One might say,” Frankie put his finger on his lips in a thinking pose. “Too little to know any better until it’s too late?”
Mike opened his mouth to ask what the hell the kid was thinking, thought about it, closed his mouth, thought some more, and then said, “So, you really are precocious, huh?”
……………………………………………
Frankie was better than Mike at getting through the tangled brush that surrounded Zac’s lair. Mike was pretty sure the brambles were magic, because he wound up cutting through several of the same snarls he had the first time he’d come through, and Frankie just giggled whenever he ran into a branch.
“They like me,” Frankie confirmed his suspicion.
“Good for them,” Mike grumbled, but he let Frankie clear the way after that. They got through with substantially less damage than the first time, though he did have to crawl from time to time.
“Okay,” Frankie stood up. “Is this it?”
Mike looked around. Big cave, snoozing dragon, lots of fucking trees.
“Yep.” He walked up to Zac and nudged him with his boot. “Wake up.”
“Too tired,” Zac whined, covering his head with his front paws and moaning.
Mike had just climbed this mountain twice, stolen a prince who’d stolen some pearls, and had six scratches from where the blackberries had grabbed hold of him. He had no time for this shit.
“Get. Up!” He punctuated this with a kick, then jumped about twenty feet back when Zac sat up, banging his head on the cave entrance.
“Ow! Oh,” he grinned, showing an alarming number of teeth. “Hi, Mike, how’s it going?”
“Peachy,” Mike said, putting out a hand to push Frankie back. “Just great.”
“That’s great!” Zac twisted his head back into the cave. “Kevin?”
“I heard,” Kevin came out, clinging to Zac’s head. “Hi, Sir Michael.”
“Um,” Mike hesitated and Frankie ducked under his arm.
“Kevin!” Frankie threw himself at Kevin, clinging tightly.
“Frankie?” Kevin hugged the kid, then took a step back and stared at him in dismay. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you,” Frankie held up the pearls. “See? Nick and Joe said they couldn’t, but I was invisible and I went and got the treasure and now we can give it to the dragon and you can come home!”
Kevin shot Mike an absolutely poisonous look.
“Oh, really?” He said, slowly. “Frankie?”
“Yep?” Frankie asked, trying to untangle the pearls.
“Why don’t you go and give Zac the pearls, okay? He’s really nice once you get to know him.”
Frankie shrugged, looking a little uncertain. Zack smiled, and Frankie turned a little green, staying put until Kevin gave him a little shove.
Mike’s seen shit like this play out before. For some reason, little kids, no matter how nervous they act at first, are always the first ones to play with the weird, freaky monsters with sharp teeth and massively destructive capacities.
So, he’s not too worried about Zac and Frankie hitting it off. The way Kevin’s glaring at him is another matter. He’s never seen quite that stiffly polite a smile.
“What?” He says, when he finally can’t take it anymore.
“What on earth were you thinking?” Kevin snapped. “He’s ten years old!”
“Hey.” Mike put up his hands. “He followed me, okay? I didn’t go looking for him.”
Kevin glared at him for a moment longer, then just dropped his head miserably.
“My brothers-“ He started. Mike interrupted him.
“Are scared shitless of your mom and dad.”
Kevin sighed, nodding.
“That sounds like them,” he frowned. “No, it totally doesn’t.”
“There was something about civic responsibilities,” Mike allowed. “And stuff.”
“Civic responsibilities?” Kevin’s head snapped up. “I was being held hostage. By a dragon.”
Mike shrugged.
“Technically it’s not hostage taking if it’s a dragon.”
Kevin pouted, curling up on a tree branch. “Whatever. I’m still telling mom when she gets back.”
“You have fun with that,” Mike pointed to Frankie and Zac. “Want to call them in?”
Kevin stood up, wiping his shirt off. “Frankie! It’s time to go!”
“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Frankie was sitting Zac’s neck, clinging to the spikes.
“No, it’s time to go home,” Kevin said, firmly.
“Please?”
“Now, Frankie,” Kevin snapped. “I’m tired and filthy and I haven’t changed my clothes in three days. Let’s go.”
Frankie whined and moaned, but Kevin just crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, which, combined with Mike picking the kid up and carrying him down the mountain. Zac followed them as far as the horses, who froze in terror, making tiny squeaking noises as they breathed.
“Sorry I kidnapped you, Kevin,” Zac apologized, nuzzling Kevin. “But seriously, you guys can come visit anytime you want.”
“Thanks, Zac.” Kevin mounted up behind Frankie and pulled the reins out of his hands. “I hope it works out between you and Vanessa.”
“Me, too.” Zac curled up miserably, hiding his face behind his tail. “If it doesn’t, I may never leave my cave again.”
“Wouldn’t that be a shame,” Mike drawled.
……………………………………………………
It turned out, by the time they and their reward (Kevin had insisted they open the treasury and hand over a pile of gold to Mike and Bill, between smacking his brothers upside the head) made it back to Chikago, the Giant Killer position was no longer available, said giant having found gainful employment with Pete Wentz, guarding a pair to elfin musicians from everything (but mostly themselves).
Sisky and Butcher had been researching reports on giant squid off the coast of Newjersea, and Bill took a few months off to work on his book. Mike headed out with Chislett to try to persuade a minotaur that her garden didn’t need to be defended quite so vehemently as she thought.
After that, he dealt with a few goblins down by East Heights and a raccoon that turned out to be completely harmless in spite of the fact it had sprouted wings. It was a busy eight months.
He got back to Chikago in the spring for Bill and Gabe’s yearly Custard Party. It was okay, he got covered in sticky chocolate and cleaned off by Gabe’s naiad friend. He had fun.
There was a messenger in royal colours waiting for him when he got back.
The guy was huge, had clearly seen some action, and still managed to look down his nose at Mike, who was suddenly aware of the custard smeared under his chin and the state of his clothes.
“Sir Michael Carden?”
Mike rubbed the custard under his chin. “Yeah?”
“Her Majesty,” the messenger managed to instil a sense of doubt in her Majesty’s sanity in two words and a vague sneer. “Queen Denise of the Great Land Of Disnea asks that you attend her in the Summer Palace, at your earliest convenience, that she might express her gratitude for the safety of his Highness, the Princess Kevin.”
Mike tried to get some of the custard out of his ear.
“We aren’t doing anything Thursday,” Bill offered.
……………………………………………
Queen Denise was tall and majestic and completely gorgeous. King Paul kind of looked like a gnome, but he and his wife were both gracious and thanked him with that kind of distant gratitude that royalty made up for by giving out copious amounts of gold and good references. Mike wasn’t fussed, but Bill started talking about the Treaties and the Beasts and it turned out that King Paul actually knew what he was talking about, and in the ensuing argument, Mike slipped out the back door.
He tripped over nothing in the hallway and sighed.
“Hi, Frankie.”
The nothing turned into Frankie and Kevin, both sitting crosslegged, hands over their mouths, giggles pilling over.
“Hi,” Kevin said, recovering briefly. “Have you seen Nick recently?”
Mike raised an eyebrow. Kevin and Frankie started laughing again.
“You don’t want to see Nick,” Kevin told him.
“You don’t want to see Nick with us,” Frankie corrected him.
“Okay,” Mike sat down beside him. “Why are we hiding?”
“We are not hiding,” Kevin informed him. “Nick probably won’t kill you for association.”
Mike nodded and sat there.
After a moment, there were a few bangs and metallic clinking noises, suspiciously like the ones, followed by a dramatic flinging open of the doors.
His Royal Highness, The Song Of The World, The Duke Of Jonas, The Radiant Star Of Disnea, Nicholas, Son of Denise The Bountiful and Paul The Wise had bright pink and teal hair. Mike hadn’t even known there was such a colour as bright teal.
Nicholas made an incoherent noise and lunged in their general direction. Mike pushed Frankie out in front of them and hid Kevin behind his back.
“Darn you! Traitors!” Frankie threw his arms out dramatically as Nicholas dragged him away.
“Sorry, kid,” Mike called after him. “I didn’t spend all this time rescuing this one just so you could get him killed.”
Kevin was still giggling ten minutes later, when Mike dragged him out into the sunshine, through a side gate, and into a garden bright with new leaves and sunshine.
Mike glanced over his shoulder. Kevin’s hair, he noticed with some surprise, clean and combed, looked soft, and his lips were pink. He was shaken by a sudden urge to bite them and dropped the princess’s hand, stepping away.
“I hope Nick’s not too hard on Frankie,” Kevin didn’t seem to notice at first, still laughing. “It wasn’t on purpose. Mostly.”
Kevin had sharp, perfect teeth that showed when he laughed and Mike didn’t, at all, find it endearing.
“I was going to bring you a fire salamander.” He really had, they’d been so cute, looking like miniature dragons, curled around each other, flames licking in and out of their mouths. “But I thought you might be allergic.”
“Oh,” Kevin stopped laughing, looked at the ground and blushed. “I’m not.”
“Oh.”
“But I don’t really think it’s right,” Kevin said, speaking a little too quickly. “I mean, they look cute and all, but they’re used to a much colder climate than we have here and it doesn’t seem fair, you know?”
“I never thought about it that way,” Mike admitted.
“I never did, either, until Frankie told me about it,” Kevin told him. “But, um, it was nice of you to think of me?”
Mike shrugged again.
“My mother is going to scold me for keeping you out here,” Kevin curls up at the foot of a tree, and looks up at him. “And ask you to stay for dinner.”
“Yeah?” Mike presses his lips together to keep from smiling. “Cool.”
They were silent for a minute, then Mike thought, to hell with it, and sat down beside Kevin. After a moment of fumbling, he managed to wrap his fingers around the princess’ hand.
Kevin squeezed the tips of his fingers, and then relaxed.
Something with webbed wings blocked out the sun for a moment.
Mike snickered. He couldn’t help it. After looking delicately affronted for a moment, Kevin started giggling.
He fell silent, after a moment, looking at their hands.
“I never thanked you, did I?” He asked, after a moment. “For the whole… rescue thing.”
Mike shrugged.
“It’s just my job,” he pointed out. “And you did make sure I got paid.”
“Yes, but,” Kevin leaned closer. “I never said, “Thank you.” And I was pretty awful to you about the whole Frankie thing. Nothing can stop Frankie, he’s like a tiny, awesome force of nature, and…”
Mike turned, just enough that he could meet Kevin’s eyes. Kevin was blushing, embarrassed, maybe, but looked determined. Determined to do what, Mike wasn’t positive, but he was starting to get a vague picture.
“Yeah?” He murmured, tightening his grip on Kevin’s hand.
Kevin leaned further in, quickly, and kissed him, chastely, on the mouth.
“Thank you,” he whispered against Mike’s lips.
Being kissed by princesses was technically in Mike’s job description. It wasn’t a good idea, since princesses were usually supposed to be chaste until being married off to secure the throne, safety of the kingdom, purity of the line or whatever, but when you’ve just saved someone from being eaten by a basilisk, or whatever, their first instinct is generally to plant one on you.
Technically, though, their second kiss wasn’t in Mike’s job description. It didn’t say anywhere that you were supposed to kiss princesses.
But Kevin didn’t seem to mind, anyhow.
Pairings: Kevin Jonas/Mike Carden, implied Vanessa Hudgens/Zac Efron
Rating: PG, basically kid friendly
Warnings: None
Summary: Mike is a Dragon Slayer with an asterisk(very little slaying or dragons are actually involved) and Kevin is a princess, who's being held by a very nice, sort of dumb dragon. There are shenanigans.
Technically Mike was a “Sentient Animals Negotiation Specialist”, but that didn’t fit very well on the cards, no matter how much Bill whined. So they’d printed “Dragon-slayer” in big letters across the top and added a foot-note you could read with a microscope. Fuck it. The point was slaying dragons was only a very minor part of his job description and hacking his way through the jungle wasn’t in there anywhere.
“Actually, this is a temperate rain-forest,” the dragon said, when he’d finally made his way through the last tangle of blackberries, cursing all berries and dragons. “I mean, sort of like a jungle, but not quite. Not as hot for one thing, and no feathered serpents.”
Mike glared at him.
“Hi. Fuck you. I’m Sir Michael Carden.”
“Hi, Sir Michael,” the dragon rolled over on his back, scratching his belly. “I’m the Dread Dragon Zac. Did you want something?”
Mike was totally switching careers. There was an opening downtown for “Giant Killer*” and he could totally do that. Giants lived on top of giant bean stalks, giant, easily climbed bean stalks with no thorns, or stinging nettles. He had a feeling he was going to be pulling blackberry spikes out of his ears.
“I’m here to formally petition for the release of Princess Kevin of Disnea,” Mike used the sword he was using to hack through the brush to gesture into the cave. “Is she in there?”
“Uh,” Zac looked over his tail. “Sure. Sort of.”
That sounded… less than promising.
“You didn’t eat her, did you?” He asked. Fuck, there went his fee.
Zac seemed to be choking on something.
“No,” he gasped. “No, I didn’t eat. Her.”
“Fine.” Mike snapped. “Then can I see her? Princess first, talk later.”
“Um. Sure.” Zac twisted around into his cave. “Kevin?”
There was a soft murmur from the back of the cave, then Zac somersaulted over, and the princess clambered over his back to get out.
“Hi!” She carolled cheerily. “Was that you swearing back there? What do all those words mean, well, not all of them, I know some, my brothers tell me the not so bad ones, but the ones with all the F-words tied in there?”
Mike raised an eyebrow. Generally, when Mike raised an eyebrow, the world sort of shuddered and slowed down. Somehow, this time, it continued turning.
Kevin was a few inches smaller than him, with big brown eyes and surprisingly short hair for a princess. She had a poet’s forehead and cupid bow lips.
She also had an adam’s apple, a red tunic and a voice that, while definitely on the high and squeaky side, was absolutely not a typical princess’s, tiara or not.
“You’re Princess Kevin?”
The boy nodded, cheeks pinking slightly.
What Mike said next was less than politic. In fact, it was downright rude.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
……………………………………..
“It’s gender discrimination to say that I can’t be a princess,” Kevin folded his arms across his chest and glared at Mike.
Mike rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not.”
“Technically,” Zac says, grooming his ears. “”Princess” is more like a job description than a gender specific title. You know, scream a lot, get kidnapped, prick fingers-“
“Save the day!” Kevin interjects.
“Sure. My point is that being a princess is more about the way you act than what’s in your pants. Or under your skirt.”
Kevin nods firmly.
“Whatever,” Mike really needs a beer. “Look, I’m here to rescue you.”
“Oh, really?” Kevin looks around. “Where’s everyone else?”
…………………………………….
It takes a while to get the story of why Zac kidnapped Kevin in the first place out of them, mostly because they keep interrupting each other and at one point, Mike has to step in and stop a slap fight.
Basically, though, it all comes down to Zac wanting a present for this female dragon two valleys over.
“See, The Dread Dragon Ashley has a princess, right? And we hang out with The Dread Dragon Vanessa,” Zac pauses to sigh here, eyes glazing over. “She totally thinks Demi is adorable and stuff. So, I thought maybe she’d want a princess of her own, but it turns out that her mom’s allergic. So, now we’re kind of at a stalemate.”
Mike’s pretty sure this is the stupidest rescue he’s ever done and he once had to untie William’s boyfriend from a sea serpent after a surfing incident.
“Really?” He asks. He’s not sure it’s sarcastic enough. Definitely not, Zac and Kevin are both nodding earnestly.
“Yeah, and, I mean, you can’t just give a princess back once you’ve kidnapped it. So I need to think of something to trade for Kevin, right? Something that Vanessa would like. I’m thinking diamonds.”
“I don’t think my family has any diamonds,” Kevin says apologetically. “Anyhow, I was thinking pearls would be better.”
“Diamonds are shiny,” Zac points out. “Girls like shiny.”
“Pearls are more of a feminine mystique thing, though,” Kevin points out. “Trust me on this. Any dude could get her diamonds, but pearls show thought.”
Mike really needs a beer.
“You think?”
Mike’s had a lot of time to perfect his ability to read a dragon’s emotions. He’s never, in the ten years he’s been doing this, seen a dragon looking more like a love-lorn schoolkid than any love-lorn schoolkid he’s ever met.
“I know.” Kevin says. “This one guy “This one guy, right? He wanted to really impress me, so he could get a kiss and be restored to his proper form. So, he took a bottle and some tissue paper and made me this awesome vase. I still have it, but anyway, the point is he took the time and thought into the present, and that was way better than ten gold necklaces with rubies the size of eggs.”
Zac looked confused.
“Wait,” he said. “I should make her a paper vase?”
“No,” Kevin shook his head. “What I mean is, the whole reason you got into this mess in the first place was by not thinking about what you were doing. I mean, really, before giving someone a pet, the cardinal rule is that you should always ask. If you’d asked, Vanessa would have said that it was a very nice gesture, but her mom was allergic. Now I’m stuck living in your cave and you have to negotiate with a slightly scary guy who clearly hasn’t had his coffee yet. Would you like some coffee, Sir Michael?”
Mike weighed the pros and cons of doing this with and without coffee that may have been sitting at the back of a cave for the past millennium with a fire-breathing flying lizard.
“Sure,” he agreed.
…………………………………………
In the end, they decided on ten strings of pearls that Kevin claimed were sitting at the back of his dad’s treasure room and that had supposedly been there for two generations without anyone noticing would be a good ransom. Mike wasn’t sure he had been there, it seemed that Kevin and Zac had done all the arguing themselves.
“It’s too much,” Zac protested, for the third time, while Mike packed his things.
“Are you saying I’m not worth ten strings of pearls?” Kevin retorted, crossing his arms over his chest. “They should feel lucky that’s all we’re asking for.”
“Whatever,” Mike said, picking up his sword and putting his helmet back on. “I’ll be back by tomorrow.”
………………………………………
“This wasn’t really what we had in mind when we hired you, Sir Michael,” Crown Prince Nicholas said, rubbing his eyes.
“We were sort of picturing you bringing the head of this dragon-thingy back and making some kind of speech in the throne room,” The other prince, Joseph, reclined on the windowseat and plucked on the lute as he spoke. “Then we’d all talk about how grateful we were, make an offer to marry Kev-“
“Regardless,” Nicholas shot his brother a slightly poisonous look. “It’s really not Disnea’s policy to negotiate with terrorists, human or- or otherwise.”
“Dragons aren’t exactly terrorists, your highness,” William pulled off his glasses, polishing them. “They’re simply different. The rules that humans follow with dragons-“
“They’re animals!” Nicholas snapped, glaring at him. “I’m not about to negotiate with some overgrown lizard-monster for my own brother.”
“That’s not exactly wise, your highness,” William continued, smiling tightly. “The Rules of Negotiation were laid down centuries before any of us were born. If they aren’t followed precisely we could find ourselves at war with the Beasts again, and, let’s be fair, by the time the Rules were written, we were losing. Fairly badly, I might add.”
Nicholas set his jaw, stubbornly.
“Our kingdom’s policy is clear, regardless,” he said, through clenched teeth, then added, looking a little lost. “Besides, my parents would kill us.”
“One might,” William said. “Think they’d be too overjoyed at the return of their oldest child to be too concerned over the loss to the treasury.”
Nick shook his head. “The treasury doesn’t just belong to us, Mister Beckett. It really belongs to the kingdom. The money and jewels aren’t just for show. If the harvest fails, if the fish change their migratory routes, if we’re attacked by another country, the treasury goes to support the people. It’s not for us to use selfishly.”
Joseph’s lips thinned, but he didn’t say anything.
“What if you asked your people?” William said. “They seem to be very fond of all of you, surely-“
“You have an entire fucking treasury!” Mike snapped. “Chests of gold and silver, banknotes, ten gold necklaces with rubies the size of eggs-“
“Quail eggs,” Joseph muttered.
Mike ignored him. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Everyone was silent.
Nicholas spoke first.
“We’ll wait until Mother and Father are back.” He rested his head on his hands. “They’ll be returning in two months, if the weather holds. Three if it doesn’t.”
If the winter came early, if a storm rose in the East, or any of the other small disasters that sent delicate plans into tailspins brewed.
“Nick,” Joseph started, falling silent at a gesture from the younger man.
“You said the dragon wouldn’t eat him,” Nicholas raised his head and met Mike’s eyes.
Mike shrugged. “It’d be like us eating a dog as far as I can tell.”
“They tend to think of us as particularly intelligent animals,” William explained. “Some of them even study us, the way we study animals like apes and octopi.”
All he got for his efforts were three blank stares. Joseph picked up his lute again and concentrated very hard on that.
Mike stood up and pulled his coat on.
“I’ll pass it on to them,” he said shortly, ignoring William’s reproving glance. “I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.”
It was warm outside, with a gently greying sky that spoke of warm summer rain that would last the night and vanish in the morning. His horse looked up as he approached, disappointed but not surprised to be pulled away from paddock and stall up into the hills again.
The trees were thicker near the mountain, less the well-tended garden that Disneans made of their woods and more an honest tangle of brambles and branches. It faded the sunlight and made dark tunnels here and there where riders could go unseen, though not unheard. Mike heard hoofbeats behind him.
Damn.
He rode ahead, into one of the tunnels and waited. The rider got closer, carelessly.
Mike glanced behind him and saw the branches bend at about his shoulder height while riding. They stopped moving, then started again when he looked away. He waited, occasionally taking a step or two to make it look like he was moving, until a branch at his mount’s withers bent.
He reached out, swearing, and got a handful of wool and cotton for his trouble, while the air blurred, resolving itself into a small, angry child.
“Let go of me!”
He was very small and somewhat plump, but strong. There were hints here and there as to his heritage, somewhat refined and hardened, and Mike thought longingly about his bed.
Or a bed, anywhere, where he could wake up and not have taken this job on.
“Look, kid,” he said, and he sounded short, he knew, the kid widened big brown eyes nervously and bit his lip. “It’s been real nice meeting you, but I’ve got to go tell a princess that his brothers are too afraid of getting grounded to rescue him, so if you don’t-“
He cut himself off when the kid held up his hands. Pearls rolled over his fingers, shimmering even in the grey light of the woods.
“Shit.”
…………………………………………
It turned out the youngest brother was named Frankie and someone should seriously have cut the kid’s library access off, because he’d found a book of invisibility spells last week and mastered the first level in an hour. Apparently, he was also precocious.
“Kevin’s nice,” Frankie added. “He helps Stella make all our clothes and used to tell me stories when I was little.”
“What, last week?” Mike was busy tying the horses together, because, two spells after the fact, it was clear that Frankie couldn’t be trusted to go home on his own.
“I’m nine!”
“My point,” Mike said, then jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at Frankie’s horse. “Mount up, short stuff.”
Frankie glared at him, then, suddenly, smiled beatifically.
“I really am little,” he said, suddenly.
Mike sighed and crossed his arms. “Yes?”
“One might say,” Frankie put his finger on his lips in a thinking pose. “Too little to know any better until it’s too late?”
Mike opened his mouth to ask what the hell the kid was thinking, thought about it, closed his mouth, thought some more, and then said, “So, you really are precocious, huh?”
……………………………………………
Frankie was better than Mike at getting through the tangled brush that surrounded Zac’s lair. Mike was pretty sure the brambles were magic, because he wound up cutting through several of the same snarls he had the first time he’d come through, and Frankie just giggled whenever he ran into a branch.
“They like me,” Frankie confirmed his suspicion.
“Good for them,” Mike grumbled, but he let Frankie clear the way after that. They got through with substantially less damage than the first time, though he did have to crawl from time to time.
“Okay,” Frankie stood up. “Is this it?”
Mike looked around. Big cave, snoozing dragon, lots of fucking trees.
“Yep.” He walked up to Zac and nudged him with his boot. “Wake up.”
“Too tired,” Zac whined, covering his head with his front paws and moaning.
Mike had just climbed this mountain twice, stolen a prince who’d stolen some pearls, and had six scratches from where the blackberries had grabbed hold of him. He had no time for this shit.
“Get. Up!” He punctuated this with a kick, then jumped about twenty feet back when Zac sat up, banging his head on the cave entrance.
“Ow! Oh,” he grinned, showing an alarming number of teeth. “Hi, Mike, how’s it going?”
“Peachy,” Mike said, putting out a hand to push Frankie back. “Just great.”
“That’s great!” Zac twisted his head back into the cave. “Kevin?”
“I heard,” Kevin came out, clinging to Zac’s head. “Hi, Sir Michael.”
“Um,” Mike hesitated and Frankie ducked under his arm.
“Kevin!” Frankie threw himself at Kevin, clinging tightly.
“Frankie?” Kevin hugged the kid, then took a step back and stared at him in dismay. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Rescuing you,” Frankie held up the pearls. “See? Nick and Joe said they couldn’t, but I was invisible and I went and got the treasure and now we can give it to the dragon and you can come home!”
Kevin shot Mike an absolutely poisonous look.
“Oh, really?” He said, slowly. “Frankie?”
“Yep?” Frankie asked, trying to untangle the pearls.
“Why don’t you go and give Zac the pearls, okay? He’s really nice once you get to know him.”
Frankie shrugged, looking a little uncertain. Zack smiled, and Frankie turned a little green, staying put until Kevin gave him a little shove.
Mike’s seen shit like this play out before. For some reason, little kids, no matter how nervous they act at first, are always the first ones to play with the weird, freaky monsters with sharp teeth and massively destructive capacities.
So, he’s not too worried about Zac and Frankie hitting it off. The way Kevin’s glaring at him is another matter. He’s never seen quite that stiffly polite a smile.
“What?” He says, when he finally can’t take it anymore.
“What on earth were you thinking?” Kevin snapped. “He’s ten years old!”
“Hey.” Mike put up his hands. “He followed me, okay? I didn’t go looking for him.”
Kevin glared at him for a moment longer, then just dropped his head miserably.
“My brothers-“ He started. Mike interrupted him.
“Are scared shitless of your mom and dad.”
Kevin sighed, nodding.
“That sounds like them,” he frowned. “No, it totally doesn’t.”
“There was something about civic responsibilities,” Mike allowed. “And stuff.”
“Civic responsibilities?” Kevin’s head snapped up. “I was being held hostage. By a dragon.”
Mike shrugged.
“Technically it’s not hostage taking if it’s a dragon.”
Kevin pouted, curling up on a tree branch. “Whatever. I’m still telling mom when she gets back.”
“You have fun with that,” Mike pointed to Frankie and Zac. “Want to call them in?”
Kevin stood up, wiping his shirt off. “Frankie! It’s time to go!”
“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Frankie was sitting Zac’s neck, clinging to the spikes.
“No, it’s time to go home,” Kevin said, firmly.
“Please?”
“Now, Frankie,” Kevin snapped. “I’m tired and filthy and I haven’t changed my clothes in three days. Let’s go.”
Frankie whined and moaned, but Kevin just crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, which, combined with Mike picking the kid up and carrying him down the mountain. Zac followed them as far as the horses, who froze in terror, making tiny squeaking noises as they breathed.
“Sorry I kidnapped you, Kevin,” Zac apologized, nuzzling Kevin. “But seriously, you guys can come visit anytime you want.”
“Thanks, Zac.” Kevin mounted up behind Frankie and pulled the reins out of his hands. “I hope it works out between you and Vanessa.”
“Me, too.” Zac curled up miserably, hiding his face behind his tail. “If it doesn’t, I may never leave my cave again.”
“Wouldn’t that be a shame,” Mike drawled.
……………………………………………………
It turned out, by the time they and their reward (Kevin had insisted they open the treasury and hand over a pile of gold to Mike and Bill, between smacking his brothers upside the head) made it back to Chikago, the Giant Killer position was no longer available, said giant having found gainful employment with Pete Wentz, guarding a pair to elfin musicians from everything (but mostly themselves).
Sisky and Butcher had been researching reports on giant squid off the coast of Newjersea, and Bill took a few months off to work on his book. Mike headed out with Chislett to try to persuade a minotaur that her garden didn’t need to be defended quite so vehemently as she thought.
After that, he dealt with a few goblins down by East Heights and a raccoon that turned out to be completely harmless in spite of the fact it had sprouted wings. It was a busy eight months.
He got back to Chikago in the spring for Bill and Gabe’s yearly Custard Party. It was okay, he got covered in sticky chocolate and cleaned off by Gabe’s naiad friend. He had fun.
There was a messenger in royal colours waiting for him when he got back.
The guy was huge, had clearly seen some action, and still managed to look down his nose at Mike, who was suddenly aware of the custard smeared under his chin and the state of his clothes.
“Sir Michael Carden?”
Mike rubbed the custard under his chin. “Yeah?”
“Her Majesty,” the messenger managed to instil a sense of doubt in her Majesty’s sanity in two words and a vague sneer. “Queen Denise of the Great Land Of Disnea asks that you attend her in the Summer Palace, at your earliest convenience, that she might express her gratitude for the safety of his Highness, the Princess Kevin.”
Mike tried to get some of the custard out of his ear.
“We aren’t doing anything Thursday,” Bill offered.
……………………………………………
Queen Denise was tall and majestic and completely gorgeous. King Paul kind of looked like a gnome, but he and his wife were both gracious and thanked him with that kind of distant gratitude that royalty made up for by giving out copious amounts of gold and good references. Mike wasn’t fussed, but Bill started talking about the Treaties and the Beasts and it turned out that King Paul actually knew what he was talking about, and in the ensuing argument, Mike slipped out the back door.
He tripped over nothing in the hallway and sighed.
“Hi, Frankie.”
The nothing turned into Frankie and Kevin, both sitting crosslegged, hands over their mouths, giggles pilling over.
“Hi,” Kevin said, recovering briefly. “Have you seen Nick recently?”
Mike raised an eyebrow. Kevin and Frankie started laughing again.
“You don’t want to see Nick,” Kevin told him.
“You don’t want to see Nick with us,” Frankie corrected him.
“Okay,” Mike sat down beside him. “Why are we hiding?”
“We are not hiding,” Kevin informed him. “Nick probably won’t kill you for association.”
Mike nodded and sat there.
After a moment, there were a few bangs and metallic clinking noises, suspiciously like the ones, followed by a dramatic flinging open of the doors.
His Royal Highness, The Song Of The World, The Duke Of Jonas, The Radiant Star Of Disnea, Nicholas, Son of Denise The Bountiful and Paul The Wise had bright pink and teal hair. Mike hadn’t even known there was such a colour as bright teal.
Nicholas made an incoherent noise and lunged in their general direction. Mike pushed Frankie out in front of them and hid Kevin behind his back.
“Darn you! Traitors!” Frankie threw his arms out dramatically as Nicholas dragged him away.
“Sorry, kid,” Mike called after him. “I didn’t spend all this time rescuing this one just so you could get him killed.”
Kevin was still giggling ten minutes later, when Mike dragged him out into the sunshine, through a side gate, and into a garden bright with new leaves and sunshine.
Mike glanced over his shoulder. Kevin’s hair, he noticed with some surprise, clean and combed, looked soft, and his lips were pink. He was shaken by a sudden urge to bite them and dropped the princess’s hand, stepping away.
“I hope Nick’s not too hard on Frankie,” Kevin didn’t seem to notice at first, still laughing. “It wasn’t on purpose. Mostly.”
Kevin had sharp, perfect teeth that showed when he laughed and Mike didn’t, at all, find it endearing.
“I was going to bring you a fire salamander.” He really had, they’d been so cute, looking like miniature dragons, curled around each other, flames licking in and out of their mouths. “But I thought you might be allergic.”
“Oh,” Kevin stopped laughing, looked at the ground and blushed. “I’m not.”
“Oh.”
“But I don’t really think it’s right,” Kevin said, speaking a little too quickly. “I mean, they look cute and all, but they’re used to a much colder climate than we have here and it doesn’t seem fair, you know?”
“I never thought about it that way,” Mike admitted.
“I never did, either, until Frankie told me about it,” Kevin told him. “But, um, it was nice of you to think of me?”
Mike shrugged again.
“My mother is going to scold me for keeping you out here,” Kevin curls up at the foot of a tree, and looks up at him. “And ask you to stay for dinner.”
“Yeah?” Mike presses his lips together to keep from smiling. “Cool.”
They were silent for a minute, then Mike thought, to hell with it, and sat down beside Kevin. After a moment of fumbling, he managed to wrap his fingers around the princess’ hand.
Kevin squeezed the tips of his fingers, and then relaxed.
Something with webbed wings blocked out the sun for a moment.
Mike snickered. He couldn’t help it. After looking delicately affronted for a moment, Kevin started giggling.
He fell silent, after a moment, looking at their hands.
“I never thanked you, did I?” He asked, after a moment. “For the whole… rescue thing.”
Mike shrugged.
“It’s just my job,” he pointed out. “And you did make sure I got paid.”
“Yes, but,” Kevin leaned closer. “I never said, “Thank you.” And I was pretty awful to you about the whole Frankie thing. Nothing can stop Frankie, he’s like a tiny, awesome force of nature, and…”
Mike turned, just enough that he could meet Kevin’s eyes. Kevin was blushing, embarrassed, maybe, but looked determined. Determined to do what, Mike wasn’t positive, but he was starting to get a vague picture.
“Yeah?” He murmured, tightening his grip on Kevin’s hand.
Kevin leaned further in, quickly, and kissed him, chastely, on the mouth.
“Thank you,” he whispered against Mike’s lips.
Being kissed by princesses was technically in Mike’s job description. It wasn’t a good idea, since princesses were usually supposed to be chaste until being married off to secure the throne, safety of the kingdom, purity of the line or whatever, but when you’ve just saved someone from being eaten by a basilisk, or whatever, their first instinct is generally to plant one on you.
Technically, though, their second kiss wasn’t in Mike’s job description. It didn’t say anywhere that you were supposed to kiss princesses.
But Kevin didn’t seem to mind, anyhow.