A Courteous Kidnapping

Note: I have a book of writing prompts that I use for exercises. In this flash fiction, written almost exactly one year ago, I gave a slight fantasy twist (and role reversal) to the prompt "One person tries to convince another to commit a crime."

“. . . in conclusion, I'd be ever so grateful if you would kidnap me.”

The dragon blinked down at the speaker, his lids closing vertically over cat-slit pupils. Vinthraxilan, terror of the skies, razer of villages, and second-to-last of his kind, sighed. Twin puffs of smoke emitted from his flared nostrils, causing the human to wrinkle her own nose at the sudden stench of sulfur.

“You want me to kidnap you?” Vinthraxilan’s deep voice, heavy with incredulity, echoed throughout the cave.

The princess nodded. “If you would be so kind.”

“No,” said the dragon. “Absolutely not.”

He could tell that the princess was unhappy with his reply. She scowled at him, her displeasure causing her to forget that Vinthraxilan was capable of eating her in a single bite. He smiled, baring his sharp curved teeth in gentle reminder that she really ought to mind her manners. The princess appeared oblivious to his politely subtle threat, however, and continued to glare up at him.

“You’re a dragon,” she stated.

Vinthraxilan winced at the shrillness of her voice. How was something so tiny capable of being so obnoxiously loud? Perhaps he would eat her, if only to get some peace and quiet. Of course, her father, being a King, would no doubt seek retribution for her death by sending several dozen knights. And knights were even more annoying than princesses—the dragon’s sensitive ears could hear their armor clanging from half a mile away. No, best to send the princess back home intact and avoid the indigestion that would undoubtedly follow his consumption of her metal-clad avengers.

“I fail to see what my species has to do with your expectations,” said Vinthraxilan stiffly. He widened his smile, hoping that she would really take notice of his teeth and decide to leave.

“You’re a dragon,” repeated the princess. “Kidnapping princesses is what dragons do.”

“Claims who?”

“Well . . .” The princess was momentarily lost for words. “It’s common knowledge.”

Vinthraxilan lowered his head so that it was level with hers. The princess’s violet eyes widened, and he tried not to feel smug that she had finally noticed his impressive teeth.

“Seeing that I myself am a dragon,” he said, “I therefore might be considered an expert on draconian behavior. And I do not abduct princesses. Or princes, for that matter.”

“Sir Gilliad has killed six dragons,” persisted the princess, “and he said they all kidnapped princesses.”

“So, you choose to believe the testimony of a self-admitted murderer than an actual dragon?” asked Vinthraxilan in a deceptively mild voice. If Sir Gilliad had ever succeeded in killing his kin, he would have heard of it. No, the man was obviously a charlatan. No more than a pugnacious bard, spreading tall-tales of beasts slain so that his fellow humans would buy him foul-smelling fluids at the tavern.

Vinthraxilan turned away, his cumbrous tail almost knocking the princess over with the movement. Perhaps if he ignored her, she would leave.

“I’ll pay you.”

Vinthraxilan paused. “In gold?”

A predatory gleam entered the princess’s eye. She was not, as it turned out, completely misinformed about his kind.

“Two chests,” she confirmed. “One now and one upon completion of my kidnapping.”

The dragon was quiet for a moment. “Why?”

The princess grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”