The Princess, the Dragon, and the Frog Prince
Elisabeth Waters, Mercedes Lackey,
& Raul S. Reyes
Table of Contents
Introduction
The Birthday Gift
Dragon in Distress
The Dragon’s Horde
A Prince Among Frogs
Recommendations
Copyright
Introduction
Elisabeth Waters
This all started when I wrote The Birthday Gift for SWORD & SORCERESS 9. I had always liked the fairy tale about the girl who had jewels and flowers drop from her lips with every word she spoke, but when I considered the changes that having that “gift” would make to someone’s life, I could see how there could be problems involved. And once you have a character with a problem, you have the start of a story. Because I enjoy collaborating with my friends, the next two stories for SWORD & SORCERESS were done with Mercedes Lackey, in 1995, and Raul S. Reyes, in 1998.
Due to the fact that I have no compunction about having my characters move from world to world (and series to series, if you can call what I produce anything as simple as a series), I wrote A Prince Among Frogs for Marion Zimmer Bradley’s FANTASY Magazine in 1996. It branches off from Rowena’s world after the events in Dragon in Distress, and it ended up being in a series with Weather Witch and Things That Go Grump in the Night, previously unconnected stories that I had not intended to turn into a series. It just happened. So A Prince Among Frogs ended up belonging to two otherwise unrelated series.
Marion Zimmer Bradley always used to answer the question “Where do you get your ideas? by saying, “I keep a little old lady chained in the basement.” If pressed, she would explain that this was how she described her subconscious mind. My experience has taught me that my subconscious produces things I never would have expected, including connections that I certainly didn’t notice with my conscious mind.
The Birthday Gift
Elisabeth Waters
“Aunt Frideswide, how could you?” Princess Rowena glared at the diminutive figure in the sorceress’s robes across the amethyst, emerald, topaz, ruby, and daisy that had dropped from her lips as she spoke.
Frideswide winced. Oh, that voice! How could such a small girl have such a loud, shrill voice? “Rowena, dear, remember your manners! Aren’t you even going to say good morning? And do, please, moderate your voice.”
“I can still say ‘morning,’” Rowena growled, “but I’m deleting the other word from my vocabulary. Rose thorns hurt when they scrape across your lips.” The pile of precious stones and flowers on the table in front of her grew. “Why did you do it?”
“But, my darling child, it was always your favorite fairy tale—it seemed the perfect gift for your fourteenth birthday, and besides it will add to the value of your dowry, now that you’ve reached marriageable age. I know your father was worried about that.” Really, Frideswide thought to herself, what’s the matter with the girl? It’s an elegant solution to all of our problems, and she’s behaving like a sulky brat.
“Oh, I see.” Rowena’s dark eyes blazed. “You think this will make a prospective husband willing to overlook my dreadful voice. You’ll buy me a prince—but I have to do the suffering to earn him! Well, I don’t want a prince, I don’t want a husband, and I’d rather take a vow of silence than go around like this! Take this spell off me! Now!!” Her voice had risen almost two octaves above her usual piercing treble during this speech, and a beaker on the top shelf shattered on the last word.
“But, Rowena, dear,” Frideswide protested, moving to the other side of the table to stir nervously the contents of her big cauldron, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I don’t know the counter-spell—indeed, I had difficulty enough getting the spell in the first place.”
“No,” Rowena said grimly, “not difficulty enough. I’m going to lock myself in my room, and I’m not coming out until you find a way to take this spell off me!”
A soft tap on the door was followed by a maidservant carrying Frideswide’s breakfast tray. She dropped a curtsy when she saw Rowena. “Happy birthday, Your Royal Highness.”
Rowena rushed past her and out of the room without replying. The maid stared after her in bewilderment, for Rowena was normally one of the friendliest people in the castle.
“She’s overtired,” Frideswide said hastily. What a lame excuse; it is only breakfast-time. “All the excitement of her birthday.”
“I hope she’ll be recovered in time for the party this afternoon,” the girl remarked. “I hear the all the princes of the Five Kingdoms will be there.”
“I hope so too,” Frideswide said fervently, stepping in front of the pile of the jewels on the table. “Put the tray on the end of my workbench, please, and then you may go.”
When the girl had left, she sat on the stool at the end of the bench and took the cover off the tray. Immediately there was a scrabbling sound, and a dark-green newt appeared from among the clutter on the workbench to collect his share of the food. The newt had only one eye, the other having been sacrificed to a charm some time back. Frideswide also had a pet frog who was missing one toe, but that had not been one of her more successful charms, so she had not repeated it.
“Well, what do you think?”
The newt chewed several times and swallowed before answering. “I think she’s an ungrateful brat. When I think of the trouble I took researching the spell, visiting that old dragon and bargaining—I could have been flambéed, and all she says is ‘take it off!’ It’s a beautiful spell, one of the best you’ve ever cast, and it will make her rich and buy her a good husband and all she can do is yell and complain.” He took another mouthful and paused to swallow it. “Why, with that spell, her husband wouldn’t mind if she nagged at him day and night!”
Frideswide, however, was beginning to have second thoughts. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done it. It was such a beautiful fairy tale—but I never thought about the practical aspects, like whether the roses would have thorns and exactly where they would come from. And what if she talks in her sleep and chokes on a ruby or something?”
The newt shrugged. “Then we wouldn’t have to listen to her anymore. Her speaking voice is bad enough—by why, in the name of all the gods and goddesses, does she have to love to sing?”
“Be fair, at least she goes deep into the forest to do it.”
“Which is probably exactly why King Mark wants to marry her off—he hasn’t been able to get any decent hunting for ten years.” He snagged another mouthful off the plate, chewed and swallowed. “Though part of that can be blamed on our Lady Dragon.”
“Speaking of our Lady Dragon—” Frideswide began hopefully.
“Absolutely not!” The newt’s reply was emphatic. “I went last time. If you really want to take this spell off Rowena, you go ask the Dragon for the counter-spell.” He ran down the bench and disappeared through the crack in the wall that led to the ledge. He’d lie there all morning, happily sunning himself and carefully deaf to any pleas.
Frideswide gathered the spilled jewels into her belt pouch, swung her cloak around her shoulders, and set off for the Dragon’s lair.
~o0o~
The Dragon looked impressed when the stones were set in front of her. “So you did manage to work the spell.” She looked consideringly at Frideswide. “But obviously something went wrong, or you wouldn’t be here. So what is it?”
“I’m afraid that Rowena isn’t taking it at all well. She made a dreadful scene, saying that we had done this to buy her a husband, and she didn’t want one anyway, and—”
The Dragon chuckled. “I can fill in the rest. My
daughter was like that for a time too. Don’t worry, they grow out of it in a few centuries.”
“We don’t have a few centuries!” Frideswide protested. “She’s locked herself in her room, and she says she won’t come out until I take the spell off, and what her father will do if she doesn’t appear for her party this afternoon I don’t even want to consider!” She stopped for breath, and the Dragon shook her head.
“You mortals. Always frantic, always needing everything done now. When will you learn to relax and take the long view?”
“Doubtless when our lives are as long as yours, my Lady Dragon,” Frideswide snapped. “But at present, our time moves more quickly. Do you have any useful suggestions?”
The Dragon leaned back and blew a small gust of flame toward the roof of the cavern. “I shall ponder this matter. In the meantime, I suggest that you go home and try to reason with your wayward child. Is there anyone she might listen to—a playmate, perhaps a sweetheart? Think on that.”
Frideswide got up and reached for the pile of jewels. A thin stream of flame missed her by half a hand-span and the heat made her jerk her hand away.
“You can leave those.” The Dragon, damn her, sounded amused. Frideswide seethed all the way home.
~o0o~
By evening, she had gone from seething to near explosion, and so had King Mark. In his usual heavy-handed fashion, he had ordered Rowena’s door broken down when she refused to come out. Rowena had fled to the balcony, from whence the Dragon had neatly picked her up and carried her off. All that was left was the pearl that had dropped when Rowena screamed. Frideswide quickly pocketed it before anyone else saw it.
With a castle full of princes (there were six of them still there even after the party was canceled—five visiting from neighboring kingdoms plus King Mark’s son Eric), there was, of course, an immediate proposal that someone should go kill the dragon and rescue the princess. After all, it was the proper princely thing to do. But hardly, Frideswide thought, proper mealtime conversation, particularly when Prince Eric described, in graphic detail, what the corpses of the last few knights to challenge the dragon had looked like after she had dealt with them. The dragon, who valued her privacy, had a habit of depositing the body of any knight who disturbed it in the middle of the market place, in a generally successful maneuver to discourage future attempts on her life. It was obvious that Eric, at least, wasn’t planning to make one.
“But don’t you feel honor bound to rescue your sister?” one of the other princes asked.
“And leave me without an heir and my kingdom open to invasion or civil war?” King Mark inquired acidly. “Is that what you would like to see? We’ve no way of knowing that the girl is even still alive, and I forbid my son to embark upon such a dangerous and unprofitable venture. And,” he added, looking around the table, “I forbid anyone else to disturb the dragon—just in case one of you feels superfluous and suicidal enough to try. The dragon gets very annoyed when some idiot tries to kill her, and it will be my land and my people that she vents her annoyance on, and I won’t have it!” He glared menacingly around the table. “Is that quite clear?” The princes all nodded, looking relieved. They had all seen—and heard—Rowena, and while rescuing her could certainly have been considered the duty of any knight or prince, in the face of a clear prohibition from the king no one could expect them to attempt it. The wine flowed, and the conversation turned to hawking and tourneys.
“But I do wonder why the dragon carried off my daughter,” King Mark said to Frideswide as they left the table.
Frideswide tensed. Did someone tell him about the spell? If anything could make him want Rowena back...
Apparently he didn’t know, for he continued calmly, “You’re the sorceress in the family, Frideswide. Find out what happened to my daughter—and why.” He started to leave her, then turned back. “But don’t upset the dragon while you’re finding out!”
Doesn’t want much, does he? Frideswide thought. Oh well, at least he isn’t demanding Rowena’s immediate safe return. And I am curious as to what the dragon has done with Rowena. She got her cloak, checked the sky—full moon and no clouds, plenty of light, and headed up the trail to the dragon’s lair for the second time that day.
As she approached it she could hear the most awful sounds; part rumbling, part screeching and part twanging, as if someone were plucking at random on the strings of a very badly-tuned harp.
She edged cautiously up to the cave entrance and peered inside.
There was a fire in the firepit, and the dragon was stretched out by it. Rowena was leaning back, propped against the dragon’s side, plucking at a harp held loosely between her knees. The rest of the noise was coming from the dragon and Rowena, and presumably both of them would call it singing. Frideswide, not being tone-deaf, would not.
The dragon saw her first. “Come in, Frideswide.” She sounded amused. “Have you come to check on Rowena’s welfare or to demand her return?”
Rowena jumped to her feet, dropping the harp with a clang that made Frideswide wince, and dashed to the dragon’s far side, peering at her aunt over the dragon’s shoulder. “I won’t go back!” she declared hysterically. “I like it here, and I want to stay here!” Jewels fell from her lips, bounced off the dragon’s shoulder blade, and slid down her scales.
“But, Rowena—” Frideswide began.
“I won’t go back there! Nobody there likes me, nobody listens to me—at least here the dragon likes my singing.”
“And what am I supposed to tell your father?”
“Tell him I’m dead,” Rowena said flatly. “I’m not going back there. Never.”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Rowena nodded.
“What if you change your mind later?”
The dragon said lazily, “Rowena is free to come and go as she chooses, but nobody is going to take her from here as long as she wishes to stay. Do you have a problem with that, Frideswide?”
“Not in the slightest, Lady Dragon,” Frideswide said calmly. “Although if Rowena truly wishes to stay here, it might be best to say that she’s dead.”
“True,” the dragon agreed. “Knights intent on ‘rescuing a captive princess’ are a nuisance.”
“King Mark has already forbidden the lot currently at the castle to bother you.”
The dragon grinned, exposing rows of long sharp teeth. “I’m sure he has.”
“He did, however, ask me to find out what had become of his daughter—and why.”
“He doesn’t know?” the dragon said in surprise. She twisted her head to look at Rowena. “Since you aunt does not appear determined to drag you away, child, you may as well sit down and be comfortable.” Rowena returned to the fire and leaned back against the dragon’s flank. At a nod from the dragon, Frideswide dragged a stool near the fire and sat down too, shedding her cloak. It was certainly warm enough here, a nice change from the castle, where even the tapestries on the stone walls didn’t keep the cold out. Perhaps Rowena would be happier here. She’s right in thinking that her father and brother don’t care for her, poor child. She’s always been rather plain, and between that and her voice, she wouldn’t have much choice in a husband unless her father was willing to give her a large dowry, which he’s not... and then I, with the best intentions, finished the process of turning her into a freak. It was a sobering realization.
“Are you saying,” the dragon asked, “that King Mark doesn’t know about the birthday present you gave his daughter?”
“I really don’t think he does,” Frideswide said.
“Nobody knows,” Rowena said. “Nobody except the three of us.”
“Are you sure?” Frideswide and the dragon asked in chorus.
“Absolutely.”
“Well, that frees us from any necessity to conform to the truth,” Frideswide said, turning to the dragon, “so why did you carry off and kill the king’s daughter?”
The dragon thought for a moment. “Tell him it was a diet
ary imbalance—that every few centuries a dragon has to eat a virgin. Tell him I would have warned him and given him time for a sacrificial lottery and all that nonsense, but the need came upon me suddenly. Convey my sympathy for his grief, and,” the prehensile tail reached out, snagged a golden goblet heavily encrusted with precious stones, and dropped it in Frideswide’s lap, “give him that as his daughter’s blood price. Will that serve, do you think?” She looked at Frideswide, but it was Rowena who answered.
“He’ll love it,” she assured the dragon. “That goblet’s much more to his taste than I am.”
Frideswide nodded. “Mark doesn’t want you upset,” she told the dragon, “so he’ll swallow any halfway plausible story, and yours is quite plausible.” She stood up to go, then remembered something Rowena had said that morning. “Rowena, are you sure no one else knows? You said ‘good morning’ to someone; who was it?”
Rowena looked at her blankly. “I didn’t talk to anyone but you all morning, Aunt Frideswide.”
“You told me you were deleting the word ‘good’ from your vocabulary because the rose thorns hurt your lips.”
“Oh that.” Rowena giggled. “I was talking to myself in the mirror. I told you no one ever listens to me at the castle.” She laughed, and jewels fell from her lips and piled up in her lap.
Dragon in Distress
Mercedes Lackey & Elisabeth Waters
“Ah, my heart, and a-a-a-ah my heart,
My heart it is so sore,
Since I must needs from my love depart,
And know no cause wherefore...”
The light tenor voice wafted into the cave with the spring breeze from the ledge outside where the prince had been spending his days for the past two weeks. Unfortunately, since both of the cave’s occupants were tone deaf, the melody was wasted on them. The words, however, were another matter.
Princess Rowena, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor going out of her mind with boredom, looked up at her companion. “Do you suppose that means he’s going away now?” she asked hopefully. “He’s been out there for quite a while.”
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