Noël Lynne Figart

If you read the dragon's dialogue in Sean Connery's "voice", you'll have it about right.   Note the copyright date -- 1991.   I was horrifed when Dragonheart came out, but on the other hand, there's nothing new under the sun, is there? Besides...  Connery as the voice of a dragon isn't much of a stretch for anyone!

CHECKMATE

Lord Percival Smythe-Winston was a dragon of the old school.  He kept his teeth pearly white and his green scales so immaculately shined that they gleamed with golden highlights in candlelight.  Like all good dragons should, he kept a treasure --golden goblets and coins, diamonds, rubies and sapphires as big as a fist, and a beautifully crafted chess set of beryl and ebony.

His most valuable and indeed beautiful possession in this collection was a maiden of about fourteen years.  She had big blue eyes, a merry round face, and honey-colored hair that fell halfway down her back.  Her name was Penelope Jane Myers.

One afternoon, Penelope flounced into his den with a stormy look.

"You seem annoyed, brat," he commented, handing her a cup of tea and a dish of M&M's.

She said nothing and began readying the chessboard for play.  Holding her hands behind her back, she switched the queens around several times until she was sure that Lord Percy would be thoroughly confused.  When she held out her arms with the pieces concealed in her little fists, the dragon tapped her right hand with a claw as large as her head.  She displayed the ebony queen and chuckled.

"I get to go first again!"

The ritual glee with which she accepted any advantage had lost some of its childish sparkle in the last few months.  Lord Percival puffed a bit of smoke in annoyance.  "Are you sure that you don't have two ebony queens, brat?

With an expression of contempt, she opened the other hand to display the beryl queen.

"I'm too proud to cheat a dragon!" she replied with a pout and then muttered, "Or anybody, for that matter."

"I apologize, Penny," he rumbled and patted her head with just the right amount of condescension to infuriate her.

The girl jumped up, stood on tiptoe, grabbed his whiskers and pulled his face down to meet hers.

"Never," she hissed, "call me Penny!"

He tossed his head back, tumbling the girl head over backwards.  With a neat somersault, she landed exactly in front of her place at the chessboard.

They went through this little ritual almost every afternoon since they had first met.  Penelope had been about eleven at the time and had had a particularly bad day at school.

"You'd think that woman would realize that once I knew the material, I won't do her stupid busywork.  Besides, she didn't have to call me Penny. The old bat could at least remember my real name," the girl stormed, kicking a rock on the side of the road.  "I hate that old dragon!"

A cultured English voice behind her asked smoothly, "What in Heaven's name is wrong with dragons?"

She whirled around to face the speaker and was confronted with several square yards of green scales.  She looked up into the creature's huge yellow eyes in confusion.

"I--I didn't mean to be insulting," she said sheepishly.  "It's just that we call my teacher Dragonlady.  She isn't very nice."

The dragon gave her a toothy smile.  "That's quite all right, my dear. I have several ancestors that may very well have given my kind a bad name. My Uncle Archibald was just that sort.  Ate an entire village and a whole herd of sheep before a young man whose name escapes me killed him.  I believe the boy was later canonized for it."

He cleared his throat a little sheepishly when he saw the glazed look in her eyes.  "I beg your pardon, my dear.  I have been remiss in my manners. I am Lord Percival Smythe-Winston, Earl of New England, this lovely land."

Penelope curtsied as best she could.  "I am Penelope Myers, Lord Percival. Sir, I think you are mistaken as to where you are.  This is Virginia, not New England."

He rubbed his claws on his chest and said with no hint of modesty, "I am Lord of all the English colonies, dear girl."

Penelope laughed.  "Lord Percival, this land has had its independence from England for over two centuries."

"Good Lord!" the dragon said in dismay.  "Have I been asleep that long? Ah, no matter.  One maiden is worth a hundred colonies.  Guide me to my new lair, my dear."

Penelope, who had led a rich fantasy life over the years, found being a dragon's maiden both easy to accept and lots of fun.

Although she made several silly mistakes that seemed unlike her normal playing style, Penelope won the game.  She missed an open chance at Lord Percival's queen and had allowed him to capture both of her knights --pieces she particularly prized for their surprise value.

"Is something wrong, brat?" the dragon asked again.

Penelope shrugged and poured herself another cup of tea.

The dragon shook his head and smiled.  Evasions from one's maiden simply would not do.  "I want to know what troubles you, brat!"

Ignoring the dragon, Penelope popped an M&M into her mouth and let the candy shell dissolve on her tongue.  Taking the dish with her, she climbed onto the dragon's shoulders and began scratching between his ears.  He purred with pleasure and blew a jet of fire at the copper kettle to re-heat the water for another pot of tea.

"Have you ever heard of a Sadie Hawkins dance, Lord Percy?" she asked abruptly.

The dragon shook his head, letting the use of his hated nickname slide. He was curious as to what barbaric custom she would relate this time, and a sparring match would only delay explanations.

She squirmed.  "Well, it's a dance where the girls ask the boys for a date instead of the other way around."

Lord Percival snorted in derision.  "Do your people ever come up with civilized customs?"

"Never," Penelope pronounced bitterly.  "I hate the whole bloody thing!"

"Why is that, my dear?" he asked, for the first showing a genuine concern.

Penelope rubbed her shoulders against his scales to scratch an itchy spot and remained silent.  Lord Percival took the time to scan the room and found several sapphires under Penelope's bed, and ropes of pearls tossed carelessly on a desk littered with scraps of paper and well-read books. Although the dragon liked large heaps of treasure, he would rather the piles didn't become scattered and intermingled with Penelope's sloppy room.

Finally, after a lengthy silence, he plucked the girl off his back and sat her in front of him.

"Why are you so disturbed?" he demanded.

Her eyes hardened and her jaw thrust forward, giving her an oddly mature look.  Lord Percival shuddered.

"Chris and Susan were at it again today.  They can't seem to leave me alone.  Their new thing is to make fun of my weight, saying I'm too fat to get a date, and I shouldn't even try to ask a guy to come with me to the dance.  Apparently I'm too ugly to get a date."

It was true that Penelope was not a slender girl, but she was far from ugly.  To Lord Percival, whose standards of beauty had been set in the late Renaissance, she was quite beautiful.  He knew that a Rubenesque figure was unpopular these days, but no-one could really call her ugly.  He related these thoughts to her, and she threw a book at him in annoyance.

"I'm not trying to get a date with Leonardo Da Vinci, you refugee from a Hobbit-hole!" she shouted in exasperation.  "Besides, they're right.  Who would want to go out with a girl with a butt as big as mine?"

"I wouldn't fit in a Hobbit-hole," the dragon muttered, rubbing his nose.

He had never had a more irritable maiden in his life.  He simply couldn't understand why the size of her bottom could make her so upset.  Ah, well. These modern times weren't for immortal dragons to understand.  Maybe on the night of this "dance" he should take her flying.  Yes, that would be a perfect way to keep her mind off this silly nonsense...

At school the next day, Penelope noticed a poster patterned in black and white squares on the way to her history class.  Coming closer, she saw printed in red ink:

JOIN THE CHESS CLUB! Meeting: Mon, Wed, Fri at 3:00 In the Thomas Jefferson Library.

Chess Club? She was a little surprised, but decided to investigate.

An hour after school, she was in heaven! She had soundly beaten one of the better players in the club and had won the respect of everyone there. She was the only girl there and thought it odd, but when she commented on it, Vernon, the president of the chess club, laughed bitterly.

"Penelope, chess isn't all that popular of a sport.  The rest of the football team thinks that I'm a serious dweeb for wanting to play, but because I'm the only member of the team that can throw a pigskin with any accuracy, I can get away with it." He ran a hand over his wooly head and grimaced.

She smiled up at the huge boy with pleasure.  She liked the idea that the school hero was also an intellectual, but something bothered her.

As she helped George Saunders, the boy that she had beaten, clear away the chess sets, she commented, "George, why does Vernon hide his intelligence?"

Protective coloration, I guess," the boy replied with a shrug, pointing to his own ponytail.  "Sometimes I wonder if he's smarter than deviants like us.  By the way, where did you learn to play chess so well?"

"Well, it can't be my current partner.  He doesn't seem to be able to think past the next sip of tea, so it's no wonder that I beat him a lot." She sighed.  "Dragons are so scatterbrained."

She didn't notice the group of boys gathering behind her as George asked, "What did you say?"

"A dragon taught me to play chess.  His name is Lord Percival Smythe-Winston. He's terribly proper and..."

She broke off as she heard a sound like a buffalo trying desperately not to choke.  Whirling around, she faced the remainder of the chess club trying to stifle their laughter.

"What's so funny about that?" she demanded.

"Come on, Penny," Vernon said when he finally caught his breath, "that's a funny image --a girl playing chess with a dragon, of all things!"

"Well, why not?" Penelope thrust her jaw forward and her fists balled into her hips.  "Dragons are smart.  Besides, what in the devil do you expect a dragon to do with a maiden?"

"If you're not here tomorrow, we'll know this Lord Percival ate her!" George chimed in.

"Dragons are collectors, not consumers!" the girl snapped.  "You should know that!"

"Well, of course," Vernon said.  "Every girl I've ever met plays chess with a dragon."

"Aren't you a little old to have imaginary friends?" Mr.  Chapman, the faculty advisor, insisted.

She glared at the boys clustered around her for a moment, and then ran out of the library, stopping only when she was out of breath.

When she got home, her mother was waiting in the kitchen with a disturbed look on her normally placid features.

"Penelope, Mr.  Chapman just called and said there was a problem at the chess club meeting.  Do you want to tell me about it?"

She shook her head and looked at the floor.  "No, ma'am.  I wouldn't."

Penelope was invariably polite to her mother, even in moments of duress. Her mother had no qualms about punishing rudeness.

Dr.  Myers bit her lip.  "Mr.  Chapman tells me that you insisted that you play chess regularly with a dragon.  Sugar, I know how much you like your imaginary friends, but I think that you might want to avoid talking about Lord Percival in school."

"Mom," Penelope protested, fighting not to be rude, "he isn't imaginary. He's as real as you or me."

"You or I, honey.  Let's not corrupt the language."

"He's as real as you or I," Penelope corrected herself.

As a psychologist, Penelope's mother recognized that truth and reality depended on one's point of view.  She despaired of ever getting her daughter to at least pretend to accept the reality system of her peers.

"Well, honey, maybe if you don't mention it at the next meeting, they'll forget the whole thing," Dr.  Myers suggested.

"I'm not going back," the girl stated flatly.

Her mother smiled.  "Yes you are, sweetheart.  You need friends your own age and species."

Penelope stomped to her room and shut the door just hard enough to make a noise and not hard enough to be scolded for slamming doors.

"Percy!" she snapped, slamming her fist down on the table.  "Wake up!"

The dragon opened one eye blearily and closed it again, commenting with a hint of petulance, "You're home late, brat!"

"I was going to join the chess club," she said, curling up between his claws, "but they laughed me out of the place."

He tickled the girl's nose with his whiskers.  "Why did they do that, brat? You play chess very well."

She waved that aside.  "It isn't that I lost a game.  They asked me why I played so well and I told them about you.  Why don't you come to the next meeting with me? Then they'd understand."

The dragon's eyes shot open in shock.  "You know I can't do that.  It wouldn't be proper."

"Lord Percival, I'm about to become the laughingstock of school and you're worried about propriety? If that isn't everything that's wrong with the English since Elizabeth the First died, I'll shave my head and paint myself blue as a Smurf!" Penelope shouted in indignation.  "I thought I could depend on you!"

"Dear, it is impossible for me to show myself to any but my own maiden."

"You mean you won't violate some silly code you have," she grumbled. "Percy, I need your help!"

Lord Percival sighed in exasperation.  "I do the best I can, brat.  Come on, let's have a game."

As they were setting up, the phone rang.  Penelope climbed over a pile of gold and kicked aside a heap of jewels before finding the receiver.

"I wish you'd keep your treasure on your side of the room," she muttered before answering the ring.

It was George Saunders.

"Is there something I can do for you, George?" Penelope asked coldly.

"Look, Penny--" the boy began.

"My name is Penelope, not Penny."

The voice on the other end became irritated.  "All right then, Penelope."

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"I had wanted to apologize for laughing at you, but now I'm not so sure!" he replied sharply.

Penelope immediately softened.  "Do you believe in dragons?"

He laughed gently.  "Of course I do.  I have a pet griffin, and I've never had the guts to admit that he existed." There was a thoughtful pause. "Although, Merv insists that I'm his human."

She matched his merry laugh.  "I forgive you.  And I'll even keep your dark secret if you'll back me up to the chess club.  Mom's making me join, so I can't just ignore them." She sighed.  "By the way, does your griffin play chess?"

"Merv isn't exactly the most intellectual of creatures," George replied in a very fakey British accent.  "He does, however, make some of the best chocolate chip cookies in existence.  He taught me how to make them back when I was in elementary school.  If you come over and play chess with me tomorrow, I'll let you try some."

"Baiting the trap with chocolate, now," she said with playful sarcasm. "Oh, very nice, indeed.  But I'll be there."

"I await you with pleasure, milady."

She set the phone down, unaware of the most perfectly ridiculous expression on her face.  She rather liked George for his wit and his playfulness.  He made her think somewhat of an Elven king because of his slender build and sharp features.

"Penelope!" Lord Percival's rumble broke through her thoughts.

She looked up.  "Hmmm?"

"I asked you three times! Who called?"

"Oh, I'm sorry," she replied with a hint of pink darkening her cheeks. "That was George, a guy from the chess club.  He invited me to his house to play a match with him."

"You refused, of course," the dragon nodded, motioning for the girl to take a seat.

"No, I didn't." She shrugged, moving a knight.

"Penelope," the dragon said in hurt surprise, "you know that this game is special to us.  Surely you wouldn't condescend to play with a mere..." he wrinkled his nose, "...human?"

"Why not?" the girl snapped with hands on hips.  "You do."

"But you're my maiden!" he almost wailed.

She swallowed, a little ashamed.  "But Lord Percival, you can't deny that I must associate with my own kind.  After all, I can't live the rest of my life in your lair.  Do you deny me friends?"

The dragon patted her on the head.  "Go and have a good time if you must, but I forbid you to drink any tea or eat any M&M's with that boy."

"As you wish, milord," the girl replied, bowing from the waist.

The dragon seemed a bit mollified, but played very badly that evening.

"I win again," Penelope cried gleefully.  "Would you like to play another game?"

"No, brat, I don't think so," Lord Percival rumbled, and curled himself into a ball.  "You go have dinner now."

The next evening, Penelope was home an hour late for dinner.  Her mother did not comment, but simply punched a few buttons on the microwave and handed the girl a mug of cider.

"Did you have a good time?"

Penelope nodded, suddenly a little shy.

Dr.  Myers smiled as her daughter brought the hot plate to the table and blew on her fingers.  "Who won?"

Penelope chewed the baked potato thoughtfully.  "George won two games out of three.  It didn't even bug me to lose to him."

"I would hope not!" Dr.  Myers commented.  "I brought you up to be a good sport."

"I wish Lord Percival were a better sport, Mom," Penelope said.  "He's been sulking ever since I told him I had made friends with George."

"Does that mean you're not going to see your young man anymore?" her mother asked in some alarm.

"Gimme a break, Mom!" Penelope said, rolling her eyes.  "I can't let a dragon rule my life.  By the way, I asked George to the dance tomorrow, but he doesn't have a car available."

"Daddy could drive you," Dr.  Myers volunteered.

"Mom, you're out of your mind!" Penelope protested.  "Daddy will insist on showing off that broken-down Karmen Ghia he's been fixing up.  We'll be lucky to get to the dance! Please drive.  I don't insist on a stretch, but I'd at least like a car with a floorboard."

Dr.  Myers promised her daughter a ride in a properly working vehicle and Penelope skipped to her room.

"Guess what, Lord Percival?" she shouted, leaping onto the dragon's back.

Lord Percival opened one eye, plucked her off his back and said coolly, "I don't know if I'm speaking to you, brat.  You're home late and I've been waiting here all day."

"Aw, come on, Lord Percy.  Don't be so stuffy.  I asked George to come to the dance with me and he said yes.  Isn't that great?"

The dragon stiffened.  "I am very happy for you, Lady Penelope.  May I serve tea?"

"Well, of course," she said.  "How come you're calling me Lady Penelope?"

The dragon pulled out a dish of M&M's.  "It seemed appropriate, my dear."

She shrugged.  "Maybe so.  You're not jealous of George or anything, are you?"

"No, milady, I am not," he sighed.  "All maidens must..."

"Must what?"

"Never mind," the dragon said.  "It's your move."

After two hours of intense concentration, Lord Percival breathed a puff of smoke and the word, "Checkmate."

Penelope laughed with delight.  "You've never beaten me before, Lord Percival.  You're getting better!"

He sighed.  "So I am, brat, so I am."

Friday night, Penelope was a wreck.  She had tried her hair in six different styles before finally deciding to pull her curls into a gold banana clip.

"Lord Percival, I can't find my shoes!" she said in a panic as she knocked aside a golden goblet.

The dragon calmly plucked a pair of pumps from the top of a lamp and handed them to her.  As she struggled with a clasp at the back of the dress, Lord Percival laughed, spun the girl around, and swiftly handled the problem.

"You look charming, brat," he said sadly.

She looked at her friend in some alarm.  "What's wrong with you?"

"I shall miss you, brat," he replied, catching a tear in his hand.

She watched in amazement as he began twisting a coin into a rope of gold and pressing the tear into a molded setting.  Again he turned her around. Fixing the new necklace around her throat, he said, "Remember your old friend, Lady Penelope."

"What in heaven's name are you talking about?" the girl asked.  "I don't understand."

"You don't need me anymore," the old dragon said.

"If I have to lose you, I won't go!" Penelope's jaw began to creep forward.

"I leave tonight, whether you go or not, Penelope," the dragon replied. "I can see that I have stayed too long as it is.  Please go."

She threw her arms around as much of the huge neck as she could reach. "You've been letting me win the whole time, haven't you?"

He roared with laughter.  "Of course, brat.  Dragons are much more logical than humans."

He could hear her laughter all the way down the hall as he leaned his huge bulk against the closed door.

"I shall miss you, brat."

The full moon shone in the window as the gold began to become transparent, then disappear.  Next, the jewels winked out like stars in a clear dawn. Lord Percival Smythe-Winston stared moodily out of the window and tried not to brood.  A shadow fell on the sidewalk below the streetlight and the dragon spotted a young girl maneuvering a skateboard with great skill.

He turned away as the chessboard started to fade.  Grabbing it, he began to mold the beryl and ebony squares into a skateboard with his huge claws.

© 1991, Noël Lynne Figart