Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess and her name was Margaret. Above all else, Princess Margaret yearned for a man; a man with a white horse and a big… well, never mind. She spent quite a bit of time in the kitchens with the barmaids, and being base low-born peasants, they were of course, a tad bit crude. Anyways, Princess Margaret dreamed of such a man, day and night, night and day; a man who would stride in: armor shining bright on a moonless night, codpiece straining against its’ burden, sword carving wavering trenches in the marble floor as it dragged behind him because it’s just so damn big. She wasn’t exactly the kind of feminist that we try to teach our daughters to be. But I guess according to feminist law or whatever, Margaret is allowed to be whatever kind of woman she wants to be. And if she wants to be the kind of woman that marries a man for his white horse, shiny-ass armor, and hard sword, well that’s just fine. So back the fuck off.
Anyways, Margaret yearned for such a man, so much so that her father, the king, took notice. Even amidst his diplomatic meetings, portrait appointments, and visits to the whorehouses (to make sure they were up to code). And as her father, and the all-supreme ruler of the kingdom, he just had to fix this grievous problem. “I know,” he said. “I know just what my daughter needs. She needs a man.” Because what else could she need? I mean, the only purpose of woman is to get fucked by men and produce his children to ensure that his line does not die out.
King Edward (did I mention his name was Edward?) set out to find the perfect man for his daughter. He thought about having a tournament for her hand but that was too expensive. I mean, he could afford it of course because he’s the king. He just didn’t want to. Not that that makes him a bad father. Just think about how your parents bought the used jeep instead of the hybrid. It’s like that. But instead of a car, it’s a life partner. Anyways, King Edward just kind of interviewed some of the sexiest, richest single men within horse-riding distance of the castle. Well, he delegated some priests to interview the sexiest, richest single men within horse-riding distance of the castle.
So the King’s best interviewers interviewed a ton of guys. Don’t worry, these old dudes were tough… like Simon Cowell tough. And who knows better what a young woman wants than a bunch of wrinkly, unmarried men? They talked to like twelve guys and it took long enough for Margaret to lose it to the stable boy. And the best candidate was Lord Percival Amadeus Julio Ricardo Montoya Delarosa Ramirez. His friends call him Percy. But we’re not his friends. So… Lord Percival Amadeus Julio Ricardo Montoya Delarosa Ramirez. And Margaret was absolutely delighted with him because he had this white-as-white-privilege horse and the biggest sword you’ve ever seen dangling from his waist. His dick was pretty sizable too. They were married immediately and Margaret became Mrs. Lord Percival Amadeus Julio Ricardo Montoya Delarosa Ramirez. And Lord Percival Amadeus Julio—fuck it—Percy became the next heir to the throne. Because why the hell would it be Margaret? She’s a woman; she’d probably go on her period and start a war or something.
Princess Margaret and Prince Percy lived happily together for almost a week. But it took three weeks for Margaret to realize that no matter how big your dick is doesn’t make up for being a big dick. So she did the natural thing. She went to her daddy and asked him to find another husband for her.
“Father, I hate him.”
“No, you love him.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You sounded like you did last night. Everyone in the West Wing could hear it.”
“Yeah, but I had a realization.”
“Just because you have a big dick doesn’t make up for being a big dick.”
“You’re proud of that one aren’t you?”
“Yes, I think I might cross-stich it onto a pillow.”
“Whatever makes you happy.”
“But I’m not happy.”
“Because my husband is a big dick.”
“I know, that’s why I chose him for you.”
“No! He doesn’t have a big dick. Well, he does. But also is a big dick. And just because you have a big—“
“Honey, we’re Catholic and we don’t believe in divorce. Now go make some babies.”
And she did. Six and a half to be exact. Because they don’t believe in contraception either. Margaret stayed married to Percy and she tried her very best to not make eyes at the stable boy. He didn’t really make eyes at her though because she always seemed to be pregnant or toting some small child around. But when Margaret could escape the small, sticky hands of her children, she went riding through the woods. Not on the white horse though. Turns out Percy was kind of possessive over him. So she settled for the gray speckled one with a limp. The stable boy called him Stumpy after his second favorite sister.
“Why does my lady frown so?” the stable boy asked as he saddled the horse. His favorite sister had just died of the plague and Margaret was in between babies so she looked kind of okay at this point. Well, in the eyes of the stable boy because he abided by the culture’s standards of beauty. Pig.
Margaret sighed and looked at her stable boy with soulful eyes. “Just because you have a big dick does not make up for being one.” The stable boy mumbled something and grabbed at the front of his pants.
So Margaret rode deep into the woods. So deep into the woods. Deep, deep, deep into the woods. Deeper than she told Percy to dig last night. And she came to a cave. In this cave were piles and piles of gold. Margaret had only seen this much gold one other time in her life… in her father’s throne room. She’s a princess, remember? She shrugged and moved on. Soon she came to another cave, and in this cave were piles and piles of bones and rotting flesh. “Aw hell no!” Princess Margaret yelled and rode on. Finally, she came to a third cave. In this cave was a dragon because what else would be in a cave in a fairytale? You know, besides gold and dead bodies.
The dragon was actually kind of chill. So they sat down together and had some tea. And she complained about Percy and the dragon listened. Like, he really listened. Then, Princess Margaret had an idea. “Hey, um, Mr. Dragon.”
“You can call me Jym.”
“Okay, Jym. Why don’t you show up at the castle and you can kidnap me. Don’t dragons like virgins or something? Well, I’m not a virgin but I’m can pretend to be. I do for Percy all the time. And you can do all the ravaging you want when you come pick me up. Oh, and I saw this cave a ways back and it was full of gold. I’ll show you where that is too.”
“Bitch, that cave is my weekend home. And the whole virgin thing? Racist myth created by the trolls. I prefer someone with a little more experience.”
“I have experience!”
“You’re not my type, sweetie. But I’ll take you up on the ravaging and if you just happen to get in the way, I might carry you off. Let’s say… next Sunday?” They finished their tea, Margaret bitched about Percy a little more, and they sealed their contract with a virgin sacrifice. Maybe the myth wasn’t that racist after all.
So next Sunday came and Jym showed up just as they’d planned. He ravaged a little bit, ate a few sheep, stole some gold, and ripped the roof off the castle. Of course, because Percy’s a total attention whore, he just had to try to fight off the dragon. He yelled “I am Lord Percival Amadeus Julio Ricardo Montoya Delarosa Ramirez and I will hang your head upon my mantle!” as he unsheathed his big, swinging sword and swung it right at Jym’s neck. When it struck the dragon’s scales, it shattered into three pieces.
“Ouch! That hurt! …you little shit!” Jym grabbed Lord Percival Amadeus Julio Ricardo Montoya Delarosa Ramirez and flew off with him.
“No! No! No! You stupid dragon! You were supposed to take me instead!” Margaret yelled and threw a goblet at him. But it was a rather pathetic throw and the goblet clattered harmlessly to the ground. Not that it would have hurt even if it had hit him. I mean, you just read about what happened to the sword. It shattered into three whole pieces. What’s a crystal goblet going to do? But she threw it anyways, and she threw it as hard as she could and it made her feel a little better. And as Margaret stood absolutely steaming, she realized that Jym had done her a favor by taking her husband. All she wanted was to get away from Percy and that is just what had happened. So she shrugged and went to go let the stable boy comfort her in her newly widowed state.
Jym dropped Percy on the floor of his cave. “What are you going to do to me? My father will hear of this!” Did I mention he had ice blonde hair and cold, lifeless eyes? He had a thing for the color green too. And snakes. And Hermione Granger.
Jym let his claws drag ominously across the cave floor as he lumbered over to him, smoke drifing from his nostrils. “I’m gonna…” He dug his claws into the rock and felt it crumble like sand. “I’m gonna…” He flicked his snakelike tongue out and tasted piss and sweat of the Percy variety. “I’m gonna have a serious conversation with you about how to treat a woman.” Jym sat down on his haunches with a thud.
And that’s what they did. Jym taught Percy how he could better respect and communicate with his wife. He told him that it didn’t hurt his masculinity to change a damn diaper once in a while. Jym even gave him some bedroom tips. But to be honest, bedroom tips from a dragon aren’t as badass as they sound. Then, Percy told Jym all of his problems with stuff Margaret did that bothered him. And he listened. He really listened.
“You’re kind of cute, by the way,” Jym said after all of this.
“Yeah, I know. So what are we going to do about Margaret?”
He sighed and shrugged his big dragon shoulders. “I’ll go get her.” So he flew back to the kingdom and picked up the princess. She and the stable boy hadn’t gotten very far yet and Margaret was rather frustrated with Jym for interrupting her in her widow rites before they got to the good part.
Percy and Margaret had a very serious discussion about their marriage while Jym mediated. And they fixed most of their problems and felt ready to handle the ones they couldn’t fix. So they didn’t live happily ever after because marriage is hard and you have to be willing to compromise to make it work. But they lived happily most days and those they didn’t, they handled like adults. And when they didn’t handle it like adults, they just went to tea with Jym and he’d listen, like, really listen. Meanwhile, Jym opened his own lucrative marriage counseling business. But he got shut down for racial discrimination after a nasty mudslinging case where he got sued for denying services to trolls.
Terminat hora diem; terminat author opus.
Madison Lindy is secretly an elf. To hide her elfin identity, she has become a writer. It seems to be working so far.
–Art by Magdalena Roeseler