The Princess ran for a long time, as long as her lungs held out. The forest grew darker as the sun lowered and the foliage thickened. Every shadow hid some beast, glowing eyes stalked her, monsters waited to pounce. She could no longer distinguish between what was real and what her imagination provided; a slight rustle caused by a bunny was in her mind the distant footsteps of a hungry troll or a savage bear. She ran, no longer with the sole intent of escaping the wicked Queen, but also to get away from the imagined dangers of the wild woods.
During the course of her flight the Princess fell headlong into a sticker bush, tripped over rocks and roots, and tore her dress in countless places, but each time she picked herself up and resolutely pressed onward. Until at last she tumbled to the ground and couldn't find the strength to keep going. The Princess curled up at the foot of a maple with wide spreading branches and cried herself to sleep.
The strange sounds of a forest at night failed to wake her, as did the explosion of bird song when the sky brightened in the east. She slept right through the cracks of branches and shouts of alarm as a dragon crashed through tree tops and skidded to a halt not ten feet from the trunk of the maple tree, leathery wings beating furiously and claws desperately scratching the turf. A highly disgruntled dwarf tumbled out of the saddle, waddled a short distance, and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach on an unlucky clump of mushrooms. He was followed by another dwarf who collapsed on the ground and struggled to catch his breath from laughing too hard. The dragon slumped on its side and panted heavily, its sides straining against the leather straps of the harness and rapid puffs of dark smoke drifting up from its nostrils.
“Some ride, eh Sunny?” the laughing dwarf wheezed, pushing himself up off the ground.
The first dwarf, who's name was Sunday, turned away from his pile of bile, still looking a bit green, and glared fire and brimstone at his companion. “If that was your idea of a good time,” he said, “you are sorely mistaken.”
“Why do you have to be a spoil sport all the time?” his brother, Friday, complained, “You wouldn't know a good time if it hit you in the face!”
“Crashing a dragon and almost breaking our necks isn't fun, it's a near death experience.”
“But we didn't die, so there's nothing to worry about, ya pansy.”
The two dwarfs bickered back and forth as they set about examining the dragon for injuries and adjusting the straps of the saddle. The rough landing hadn't harmed it, but it was obviously exhausted and in need of a nap. A squeak of a sneeze interrupted the brothers' quarrel, stopping them mid insult. They hadn't noticed the human child curled up between the mossy roots of the old maple, but now they cautiously approached. The Princess sneezed twice more and slowly opened her eyes, staring at the stout, hairy men in bewilderment. “Hello,” she said, scrambling to her feet.
“Hullo,” the dwarfs replied.
“Well goodbye!” The Princess said, intending to dart off into the forest as the Huntsman had instructed, but stopped short when she saw the snoring dragon.
“What's the hurry?” asked Friday.
“Won't you stay for brunch?” Sunday invited. The offer of food was tempting. The Princess hadn't eaten since yesterday and didn't look forward to running on an empty stomach. She eyed the strangers suspiciously, but accepted.
Friday showed the little girl how to pet a dragon without getting burned while Sunday got out the picnic blanket and sandwiches. The Princess watched the dwarfs closely, trying to decide if they were trustworthy or not. Sunday certainly seemed friendly; he had a shiny bald head, long white beard, and crinkles around his eyes from smiling. Little round, gold spectacles balanced on the end of his nose. He hummed while he unpacked the food and always gave Shelly, the dragon, a nice pat whenever he walked by. His brother seemed to possess an equally good heart, but was his opposite in every other way. Friday was brimming with energy and had no room for calm mannerisms. He hoisted the Princess up to his shoulders without so much as a by-your-leave so she could reach Shelly's favorite scratching spot, right between her shoulder blades, and they were rewarded with a loud thumping from her tail. Friday's hair was as red and wild as a dragon's flame, and his laugh sounded more like a roar.
After a much appreciated meal of squashed chicken sandwiches and bruised apples the Princess was more forthcoming to the dwarfs' inquiries. She told them who she was and what she was doing so deep in the forest all by herself, only sniffling a little when she got to the part where the Huntsman attempted to stab her.
Sunday looked solemn and stroked his beard, but Friday was positively furious. “Murder a little tyke like you? Why I oughta teach her a lesson she won't soon forget, I don't care if she is a queen!”
“We've heard terrible things about the Queen of Tek,” Sunday mused, “and I don't doubt she'll be looking for you, my dear. You've made it out of her kingdom but you're not safe yet.”
“What do I need to do? I don't want her to find me.”
Friday scratched his head thoughtfully, “She could stay with us. Drakemarsh should be far enough away.”
“And the Black Forest works in our favor by causing advanced technology to malfunction...” Sunday thought aloud, “she'll have to hide her identity, and Monday won't like it...”
“It'll be perfect!” Friday interjected, “What d'ya say kid? Wanna come home with Sunny and me? You'll love our brothers, and I could show you even more dragons!”
The Princess was almost too surprised to speak. “Really...? I can live with you? That's... oh that's wonderful!”
“Not so hasty, Friday,” said Sunday, “I'm not sure our Princess will like it in our humble home.”
The Princess looked at him quizzically, “why not?”
“Well, it's no castle for one thing.”
“That's ok,” she smiled sweetly, “castles are cold and scary. I don't like them.”
Friday jumped to his feet and clapped his hands, “it's settled then! All you need is a new name.”
After much deliberation, the Princess chose one of the many names her new friends suggested. She was determined to be known as “Twinkle the Dragon Princess,” but Sunday eventually talked her out of it and she settled for “Alf.”
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