A Twisted Tale
Page 2
Joan and Flynn simultaneously turned to the speaker and snarled. “WHAT?”
The interrupter, was probably a little older than Joan. He was a prince, that much was obvious between his shiny brown hair, sparkling white horse, and the golden circlet fastened around his head.
“Could you tell me where The Princess resides?” he asked. Joan and Flynn swapped unbelieving glances. “I mean, you are a dragon, so perhaps you would know?” the prince trailed off.
“She’s in the cave! Please go and rescue her! Get married, have kids, and live happily ever after!” Flynn bid.
“So you’re the dragon that’s holding her captive?” the prince asked.
“Yes, now go get her,” Flynn swatted the question away before turning back to Joan, his black tail thumping on the ground much like a dog’s. “See? Didn’t this turn out perfectly?”
“I suppose so,” Joan mused as she watched the prince unsheathe his sword. The prince stalked across the road and raised his sword before smashing it down on Flynn with a grunt.
Flynn and Joan watched the prince with amused expressions. The sword chipped the edge of one of Flynn’s scales.
“Are you mortally wounded?” the prince asked Flynn.
Flynn’s nostrils twitched and he started “No. Are you really that—”
“Yes, you have fatally injured him, the pain just hasn’t reached him yet!” Joan interrupted, jumping in. “Go, hurry, rescue the princess. This evil dragon was holding her captive and was going to force me to perform a marriage ceremony on them!”
The prince nodded and dashed inside, disappearing through the doorway.
“What was that for?” Flynn complained.
“Shhh,” Joan hissed. “Lay down!”
“What?” Flynn bewilderedly asked.
“LAY DOWN!” Joan bellowed. “If the princess doesn’t think you’re dead she’ll never leave!”
That got Flynn splayed out on his side awfully quick. Meanwhile Joan dug in her wimple and unearthed her bottles of Holy Water. She hoped it wouldn’t hurt Flynn, a dragon. Joan emptied three canteens on his exposed belly, allowing the liquid to dribble down to the ground.
“That tickles!” Flynn giggled. So much for hurting him.
“Shh!” Joan hissed, kicking him and stubbing her toe on his scales.
“You really killed the dragon for me?” the Princess’ irritating voice called.
“Play dead,” Joan ordered.
Flynn nodded and moments later his tongue extended out of his mouth and limply touched the dirt road while his eyes glazed over. Even Joan found herself wondering if he really was alive as his chest stopped moving.
“See, I vanquished the dragon!” the prince triumphantly exclaimed, pointing to the tipped-over Flynn as he and the princess stepped into the sunlight.
“You threw water on him?” the Princess asked, arm in arm with the prince.
“No!” Joan stepped in. “Dragon’s blood is clear! That liquid is his blood!” she babbled, hoping the princess would buy it, which she did.
“Oh, really?” she asked, wide eyed before turning to the prince. “Did I ever tell you that he wanted to marry me?”
“Kind and elderly nun, would you like to come back with us?” the prince called to Joan, who fought the urge to rip out his throat.
“No, no. Someone has to bury this dragon. Even if he was so evil and cruel,” Joan waved, smiling over her clenched teeth. Elderly? Who did that jerk think he was? Joan was probably younger than him!
“Very well, good luck old nun!” the prince bid, mounting his charger before pulling the dreadful princess up in front of him.
“Good bye!” the princess sighed. “I hope you get a happily ever after too, even if you are just a plain old nun!”
“Yes…farewell!” Joan called. “I hope your horse trips and kills both of you!” she wished once they were out of hearing range.
“Are they gone?” Flynn whispered, his words slurring slightly since he was speaking around his tongue.
“Yes,” Joan acknowledged as they disappeared from view. “They deserve each other,” she bitterly added as Flynn rolled to his feet.
“Good riddance,” Flynn twittered. “Now I can finally live in peace. What is your fee for helping me, Joan the nun?”
“There is no charge,” Joan recited with an enormous sigh. “The Convent of Saint Catherine performs all its exorcisms out of good will toward mankind. Besides, I didn’t really do much.”
“Nonsense. There must be some way I can repay you,” Flynn said, ruffling his leather wings.
Joan studied the sky where the sun shone brightly overhead. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind dropping me off at the inn where Sister Margaret is waiting for me, I would be much obliged,” Joan supposed. It was a two hours walk back to the inn and she was not looking forward to it. “If you’re strong enough, that is,” she added as an after thought.
Flynn’s chest puffed out. “Of course, I’m strong enough. I’m a dragon! Climb aboard,” he said, settling down and stretching out his wings so Joan could climb up his side.
Joan rolled her eyes but did as she was instructed, and hauled herself up his slick scales. “Ready,” Joan called after settling herself along a ridge at the base of his neck.
“Excellent, here we go!” Flynn determined before leaping into the air, his leather wings pumping.
They soared through the air, Flynn pointing out various landmarks as they followed the dirt road that would lead them back to the inn, the Frolicking Filly.
“Better stop here!” Joan called a few minutes later once the wooden inn appeared before them, roughly a mile away.
“Why?” Flynn bewilderedly asked.
“We don’t want to frighten anyone,” Joan shouted, holding onto her veils against the mighty gusts of wind.
Flynn shrugged, a motion Joan felt as a ripple underneath her. “Whatever you want,” he said before banking and gliding down. He performed a solid landing, hovering for a few moments before easing himself to the ground. He crouched down, allowing Joan to slide down his neck.
“Thanks for the lift,” Joan said.
“Kiss me,” Flynn ordered.
“What?” Joan asked.
“Kiss my cheek!” Flynn rephrased.
“Why?” Joan suspiciously asked.
“Oh, just do it!” Flynn rolled his eyes and huffed.
Joan blushed and awkwardly leaned over and kissed an ebony scale on his cheek. There was a puff of smoke, and Flynn coughed and stumbled out, a human boy clad in black once again.
“Thank you. Now I can walk you back to your room! Are you going to leave tonight?” he asked before starting out, crashing through the bushes.
“Umm, I don’t know. I’ll have to ask Sister Margaret. I assume we’ll probably go tomorrow since it’s already late afternoon and Sister Margaret doesn’t fancy sleeping on the road,” Joan said, wondering why on earth Flynn was coming with her.
“There was another nun?” Flynn asked with surprise.
“Yes,” Joan acknowledged as they trudged toward the inn.
“Why didn’t she come with you?” the dragon-boy asked.
“She twisted her ankle last night, and it’s quite a hike to your cave,” Joan sourly replied.
“I see,” Flynn frowned.
“What?” Joan asked, seeing his furrowed brow.
Flynn waited a few moments before responding. “It’s nothing. Sister Kate just never mentioned that there would be two of you coming.”
“You spoke with Sister Kate?” Joan asked as they stumbled up the dirt path, yards away from the inn.
“Of course! How else do you think I requested your help? By sending a dispatch rider?” Flynn scoffed.
“Wait, so you didn’t leave a note with a rock outside?” Joan asked.
“Good Heavens no! Why would I do that? That’s about as cliché as you can get,” Flynn snorted as they neared the Frolicking Filly. “I went to Sister Kate, telling her of my princess problem. Af
ter laughing for a few minutes she told me that she knew just the nun to help me out—a girl by the name of Joan. After that I returned to my cave and waited for you.”
“So if you didn’t leave the letter…who did?” Joan asked with a great deal of confusion.
Flynn shrugged and pushed open the door to the inn. Both he and Joan blinked when they peered into the damp, musty building. Everyone was crouched under tables or chairs with their arms over their heads. “Excuse me, good people, but what are you doing?” Flynn asked before whispering to Joan, “I don’t understand you humans. You’re so…dim.”
Joan rolled her eyes and mentally replayed the image of Flynn almost crying as he told her about the princess.
“There was a dragon in the skies not five minutes ago!” called the barkeep, out of sight as he crouched behind his bar.
Flynn blinked and Joan shrugged. “You must have been seeing things. My friend and I have been walking for that long and we haven’t seen a dragon,” she replied. “Tell me, is Sister Margaret doing fine?” she asked once people started crawling out from underneath the wooden furniture.
“Sister Margaret? The plump nun?” the barkeep wondered, scratching his bald head as he tried to recall the name. “Ahh yes. She was doing great when she gathered her supplies before setting out this morning. Hey, weren’t you the little nun that came with her?” the barkeep asked.
“She LEFT?” Joan yelped.
“Ah, yeah. She paid for another night in the inn though. Mentioned you might come back,” the barkeep shouted as Joan raced up the stairs and sprinted for their room, Flynn eagerly on her heels.
“Why are we running?” Flynn excitedly asked.
“She left?” Joan repeated. “That buzzard! I knew the pig call was mean, but was this really necessary?” Joan banged into their shared room, her sharp eyes scanning the room.
All of her possessions were left in the room, as well as two pieces of paper and a bag of coins…but Sister Margaret’s traveling pack and hulk were absent. Joan plopped down on the bed with unbelieving eyes.
“Joan,” Flynn said, handing her the pieces of paper.
Joan blankly took them and read them, her mind buzzing as she noted the first letter was from Margaret.
* * *
Dear Joan,
I’m sorry to leave you like this, but Sister Kate wished this, and I must agree. You, little poppet, are unfit for the life of a nun. Make no doubts, you are a good girl—fiery but good. (That pig call was a bit much, dear) However, I’m afraid you do not have the patience or the temperament required to be a nun. Because of this I was instructed to deliver you to this mission, which really doesn’t deal with our field as you know, and leave while you tried to deal with Master Flynn, the dragon who is probably accompanying you at this point.
This room is paid for in full for another night, and I have left a bag of gold which should last you some time. If not, raid Flynn’s stash. I’m sure he would be willing to house you for awhile too.
We will all miss you dearly at the Convent of Saint Catherine, dear. You brought a lot of humor to our lives. I will miss you.
* * *
Sister Margaret
* * *
PS: You should have dropped two skunks down the Archbishop’s chimney. This was the first time in all my life I have ever heard of that dirty man bathing.
* * *
Joan blinked before moving onto the second note, which was from Sister Kate.
* * *
Dear Joan,
You were not meant to be a nun.
Good luck.
* * *
Sister Kate
* * *
Joan wondered at the shortness before she noticed that a longer note was scrawled on the back.
* * *
Dear Joan, (again),
I must apologize on Sister Margaret’s behalf. I have instructed her to behave most odiously to you on this trip in order to push your temper. You would inevitably resort to some sort of violence which would result in Sister Margaret’s “injury”, allowing her to escape as you help Master Flynn. (There now Margaret, are you happy? I still believe my previous note was enough.)
You are a special girl, Joan. Your destiny is different than that of the Convent of Saint Catherine. Have many adventures, enjoy life, and say hello to Master Flynn for me.
* * *
Sister Kate
* * *
Oh yes: We will miss you when we clean the outhouses.
* * *
Joan suddenly felt she liked Sister Margaret much better, and that Sister Kate was a mean old hag. Joan also noticed that the handwriting from Sister Kate’s note, and the mysterious note describing Flynn’s predicament were exactly the same.
“Kate,” Joan growled.
“So…they honorably discharged you?” Flynn wondered, reading the notes over her shoulder.
“Yes,” Joan snapped as tears flooded her eyes.
“Ah,” Flynn nodded. He was quiet for several minutes as Joan sniffed. “There there,” he sighed, gently patting her back. “They do this to you out of love.”
“No, they don’t! If they loved me they would keep me around!” Joan cried.
Flynn gently hugged her. “That’s false and we both know it. So, what are you going to do?” Flynn asked.
“I don’t know,” Joan replied, her voice muffled against Flynn’s shoulder.
A devious smile cracked across Flynn’s face. “You know…you aren’t a nun anymore...”
Several months later—and assumedly many arguments after—the Sisters of the Convent of Saint Catherine receive an invitation written in a rushed messy scrawl:
* * *
You are cordially invited to the marriage of
Joan a Darc and Master Flynn.
The ceremony will be held on the First day of Fall at the Convent of Saint Catherine.
There will be feasting and free exorcisms provided,
We hope to see you there.
Joan and Master Flynn
* * *
On the back of the invitation, written in the same rough handwriting, was a note.
See Kate, I TOLD YOU my handwriting looked like chicken scratch. Besides, whoever heard of the BRIDE writing up the invitations? I hope Flynn’s cousins eat you. Or the archbishop.
* * *
(And no. I will not clean the privies in exchange for your lovely handwritten invitations, no matter how badly the latrines need to be emptied.)
* * *
The End
* * *
For more information on the author and free extras please visit: kmshea.com
Afterword
Thank you for reading Once Upon a Twisted Tale, I hope you enjoyed Joan’s story! If you want to read more of my work, sign up for my newsletter to receive my free K. M. Shea Starter Pack ebook.
* * *
It contains:
A King Arthur and Her Knights prequel short story
A Red Rope of Fate prequel short story
An original fairy tale, Princess Snow and Queen Ruby
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My newsletter is released every month, and contains information about contests, new freebies—like short stories and extra scenes—free books, and reader opinion polls.
Thank you for your support and encouragement. I am proud to say I have the best readers. Therefore, it is my dearest wish that Joan and her friends made you laugh and warmed your heart. Thank you.
Other books by K. M. Shea
Life Reader
Princess Ahira
A Goose Girl
* * *
Timeless Fairy Tales
Beauty and the Beast
The Wild Swans
Cinderella and the Colonel
Rumpelstiltskin
The Little Selkie
Puss in Boots
Swan Lake
Sleeping Beauty
Frog Prince
12 Dancing Princesses
Three pack (Beauty and the Beast
, The Wild Swans, Cinderella and the Colonel)
* * *
The Snow Queen:
Heart of Ice
Sacrifice
Snowflakes: A Snow Queen Short Story Collection
* * *
The Elves of Lessa:
Red Rope of Fate
* * *
King Arthur and Her Knights:
Enthroned
Enchanted
Embittered
Embark
Enlighten
Endeavor
Endings
Three pack 1 (Enthroned, Enchanted, Embittered)
Three pack 2 (Embark, Enlighten, Endeavor)
* * *
Robyn Hood:
A Girl’s Tale
Fight for Freedom
* * *
The Magical Beings’ Rehabilitation Center:
Vampires Drink Tomato Juice
Goblins Wear Suits
The Lost Files of the MBRC
* * *
Second Age of Retha: Written under pen name A. M. Sohma
The Luckless
The Desperate Quest
About the Author
K. M. Shea is a fantasy-romance author who never quite grew out of adventure books or fairy tales, and still searches closets in hopes of stumbling into Narnia. She is addicted to sweet romances, witty characters, and happy endings. She also writes LitRPG and GameLit under the pen name, A. M. Sohma.