Golden Braids and Dragon Blades: Steampunk Rapunzel

Chapter 17: Picnicking with Dragons

The girls darted quickly from the maze into the cover of the forest. During their nighttime roaming, they had no doubt played in the trees—I assumed. I had never enjoyed the same freedom they had. But playing during the daytime, amongst the leaves, under the sunlight, was an entirely new experience for them. Despite her apprehension, even Luna joined her sister flitting through the branches. I tried to calm my nerves, imagining hawks and eagles roaring down from the sky and scooping up my dragons.

But then I reminded myself that they were dragons, not kittens. If a hawk tried to snatch Estrid, it would be in for a very unpleasant surprise.

As the girls flew ahead, I stopped to pick some wildflowers growing on the forest floor. I inhaled each one, breathing deeply. They smelled of all the things I’d never known. Of earth and fields and forests and sunshine. I laced the pretty blossoms into my braid and slipped a few others into my satchel. Pausing, I bent to pull off my slippers.

“Rapunzel? Everyone all right?”

“Look at those pine needles,” I said, motioning to the blanket of rusty-pink dried pine needles lying on the ground. “Just…just give me a minute.” Slipping off my stockings, I walked across the bed of dried needles. They felt soft under my feet. I moved gingerly so I didn’t get poked, and scooped up pinecones, dismissing each find for a better specimen, breathing in the intoxicating forest air. I slipped the pinecones, pretty leaves, and more flowers into the satchel alongside the egg which, to my surprise, had an unusual golden glow to it under the sunlight. I took in everything, feeling the rays of sunshine shimmering down in slants from overhead and shining on my face. I breathed in the smell of the forest. It was so fresh and clean. I raised my hands into the air and felt the wind rush through my fingers.

“Rapunzel,” Ewan said softly. “Did you ever leave that cave?”

“No.” My eyes closed, I could hear the wind whipping through the branches. Overhead, the dragons called to one another. I heard the songs of the birds, the leaves, and every living thing in the forest. They all called to me, a soft chorus of voices:

I’ve been the spinner at the wheel

I’m the watcher in the wind

“Do you hear that?” I whispered. I looked back at Ewan who was staring at me.

He looked around. “Hear what?”

“That…song?”

He paused to listen. “No.”

I hummed the notes, reciting the lines I’d heard, but shook my head. The song didn’t make sense. The wind died down. In the distance, I heard Wink call.

Ewan smiled softly at me. “I think the meadow is just over the rise. Are you hungry?”

“Famished. Let’s go,” I said then moved toward the sunny horizon. For a scant moment, guilt washed over me. Shouldn’t I be worried about Mother, or the dragon bloods who wanted to kill me, or that someone might see my dragons and want to take them? But then I looked back at Ewan following along behind me toting the picnic basket, the wicker carrying case, and my forgotten slippers. He smiled to himself as he walked.

Somehow, when I looked at him, I didn’t feel worried. I felt…safe.

I raced ahead to the tree line and came to stand at the edge of a wide field. At the very center was a tall oak tree. The meadow was filled with wildflowers. Butterflies with white, orange, and yellow wings flitted from blossom to blossom. There was a strong scent of grass and flowers as the summer sunlight shone down. The girls flew around one another happily, Wink calling to her sisters as she snatched asters and poppies from the field, tossing and catching them as she worked. Seeing Wink’s game, Luna and Estrid joined the fun.

“Under the tree?” Ewan asked.

I nodded, and we headed toward the tall oak. “It’s so beautiful here. Look at all these flowers.”

“You prefer wildflowers, Miss Dashwood?” Ewan asked, referring to a famous scene in Sense and Sensibility.

I chuckled. “I love any flower. And that tree… It must be hundreds of years old.”

“Knotty old oak. Suppose it was once a druid?”

“The druids did not turn into oaks. They worshipped oak trees,” I said with a grin.

Ewan chuckled. “I know that. The druids are still roaming, loitering about Stonehenge, causing mischief with their secrecy and Celtic sorcery.”

“Are they really?”

Ewan nodded. “Thank Diana, they’re not on my beat. Maybe a dryad lives in this tree. Suppose we should go flush her out?”

I elbowed Ewan in the ribs.

“What? Hey, it’s not outside the realm of possibility. I’m sure there are dryads—or at least, there once were. Maybe we just can’t see them.”

“You can’t see them,” I said with a playful wink. “Do you mean to tell me you don’t see that troupe of dryads dancing around the tree trunk?”

Ewan stopped and looked from the tree to me. “Rapun—”

Laughing, pleased to see I had fooled him utterly, I snatched the picnic basket from his hand and scampered toward the tree. Ewan rushed along behind me. Setting down the basket and securing my satchel beside me, I laid down and looked up at the branches of the old oak. It really was ancient, and I could easily imagine that it was once part of druidic worship—dryads or no dryads.

I closed my eyes and listened.

Ewan sat down beside me and opened the basket. I could hear his soft breath. I could hear the leaves shifting overhead. I could hear the insects. I could feel the tree, its broad limbs, its deep roots. Again, I heard a soft song, as if someone was singing but too far away to catch the full song.

I sat up and looked around.

“What is it?” Ewan asked.

I scanned the horizon. Birds flitted through the trees, butterflies danced, and three dragons collected flowers, but otherwise, we were alone.

I shook my head. “Nothing. Probably just dryads playing games. So, what do we have?” I popped up on my knees to investigate the picnic basket.

Ewan snapped out an embroidered cloth and began unpacking the treats from the basket onto the picnic blanket. First, he set out a basket in which was a variety of baked goods, and then he removed a parcel containing apricots, cherries, and blueberries. I snatched an apricot, delighting in its sweet taste as I watched the girls play.

“Oh yes,” Ewan said as he lifted a pot from the basket. “Now, here we go.”

“What is it?” I asked.

Ewan opened the pot. Inside were bangers and thick slices of bacon. The smoky scent of the meat effervesced from the container. “Seriously, Rapunzel. Why my boss lives in London rather than at Willowbrook is a mystery to me…well, save Agent Louvel. Just look at this,” Ewan said as he went digging for a knife.

“Agent Louvel?”

He nodded as he worked. He sliced open a round of sourdough bread—which I was pretty sure was intended for two people. Inside, he layered the sausage, bacon, a hardboiled egg which he cut in half, more bacon, and then some cheese. “His girlfriend. The werewolf hunter.”

“Love is a good enough reason,” I said, grinning as I watched Ewan struggle to hold his creation. “I think you could get a few more slices of bacon on there,” I said, fighting to hold back my laugh.

“You think so?” he replied in all seriousness, looking from the mostly-empty pot to his bread creation.

I couldn’t hold back. A laugh escaped me. “No, I do not. Ewan! You’ll never be able to eat all that.”

He raised his eyebrows then nodded. “Watch me. There is nothing better in this world than bacon. The fact that it is my boss’s bacon, which I am eating for free, makes it all the more delicious. Try some.”

“Is there any left?”

“A few slices.”

“I’ve never eaten it before.”

“What?”

“Gothel doesn’t like the smell.”

“But it’s bacon,” Ewan said, looking as shocked as if I’d just told him I didn’t like pie.

I shrugged.

“You have to try it,” he said. He moved to grab a piece for me but nearly lost a hunk of cheese from his sandwich.

“I got it.” I lifted a piece of the crispy meat from the pot. I took a bite, letting the salty, smoky flavor fill my mouth. I’d read about bacon, of course, but never ate any because of Mother. Now, I saw why everyone loved it. “That is amazing.”

“Bacon is…” Ewan began, pausing to look philosophical. “Perfection,” he said then took a bite of his massive bread, meat, and cheese creation. His cheeks puffed out like a squirrel. He looked like he was having trouble chewing, but sighed contentedly all the same.

Chuckling, I shook my head then lifted an apricot and a cube of cheese from another container.

“You’re missing out,” Ewan said then took another massive bite.

I eyed the pot once more. “I didn’t want to deprive you of a second helping.”

Ewan chuckled, his mouth still full.

I snagged another piece of bacon and let the savory taste linger on my tongue.

I looked out across the field. I was amazed to see that the girls had not come rushing over the instant they heard the food containers opening. Instead, they were working busily on something. Estrid was carrying branches from the nearby forest, the others snatching flowers from the field.

“No one can resist bacon,” Ewan said between chews then lifted a crispy strip of the meat. “You see. It’s perfect. You can hold it daintily between two fingers like so,” he said, demonstrating. “In a formal setting you use a utensil, of course. It’s salty, smoky, meaty, and crunchy. And I must say, Agent Hunter’s bacon is not a cheap cut. It’s Pemberley bacon.” He winked then sighed happily once more.

Turning back to the breakfast, I snatched another slice, sighing happily as the delicious taste filled my mouth.

“You see,” he said, his mouth still full. “Can’t deny the allure of bacon. Speaking of, your horde seems decidedly disinterested.”

“I noticed,” I said, taking another bite. “I have to agree, it’s unlike them to miss a meal.”

The girls flew busily to and fro, calling to one another as they dove amongst the grass on a rise not far away. Now I was curious. Stuffing the last of the bacon into my mouth, I rose, grabbed my satchel, and headed across the field to see what had the girls so distracted.

Still chewing, but his curiosity also piqued, Ewan followed me—his bread and meat creation in his hand.

We crossed the field to where the girls were working.

I stopped when I saw.

There, in a sunny spot in the field, the dragons had been busy building a nest. It wasn’t complete yet, but the outline of it was clear enough. Using the tender branches Estrid had been carrying, they were building the structure of the nest, weaving flowers and soft grasses in between.

“What are they doing? Making a bed?” Ewan asked.

Estrid flicked her tail at him then eyed the last bite of Ewan’s breakfast.

Ewan looked from the final bite of his bread, bacon, sausage, and cheese creation to the dragon. With a grin, he tossed it to her.

True to her mark, Estrid snatched the bite out of the air, chirping once more to him in thanks, then flew back off to the forest for more branches.

Wink headed back into the field for more flowers.

Luna, however, landed on the satchel. She nosed the fabric then looked up at me.

My heart beat hard in my chest. Ewan was there to protect me. Maybe he needed to see everything he was guarding. After all, if something happened to me, he was the only person who could help. If something happened to me, he would have to look after the egg, especially if Gothel didn’t return.

“You asked what was in my satchel.” I knelt and motioned for Ewan to join me.

Luna flew up, landing on my braid, and rubbed her head under my chin.

I scratched her tummy then she flew off to join her sisters.

Opening the satchel, I lifted the egg I’d hidden inside. I had wrapped it in the scarf Ewan had lent me. I slowly removed the silk covering. Gently, I held the egg in my hands and then laid it down on the nest the sisters had built. Under the summer sun, it shone so brightly. Before it had the appearance of a milk-white crystal. Now I saw veins of gold, and the whole egg seemed to shimmer with yellow light.

“Is that… Is that a dragon egg?” Ewan whispered.

“Yes. The last one. I haven’t been able to figure out how to get it to hatch.” I leaned over and set my ear to the egg. I could hear the soft heartbeat inside. “The dragon is still alive, though.”

“Where did you get it?”

“In Merlin’s cave. The eggs were hidden there, all four of them. I hatched Estrid when I was still a girl, singing her silly songs until one day she woke. Wink woke when I sang Arthurian ballads to her. Luna…I hatched her under the moonlight. This dragon, however—” I stroked the egg. “I haven’t been able to solve its mystery.”

Estrid returned a moment later, a branch in her jaw. She carefully placed it in the nest then called to her sisters. Wink returned with a daisy, Luna with a sprig of wild parsley. They worked, adding their finds, then they all lay around the egg.

“It’s glowing,” Ewan said.

I nodded. “It’s never done that before. Maybe the sunlight is warming it.”

I gasped when the egg trembled.

“Did you see that?” Ewan asked.

I nodded.

“Sing to it,” Ewan suggested.

“Sing what though? I’ve tried everything.”

Ewan shrugged. “Make something up.”

I set my hand on the egg. To my surprise, it was warm. “Okay, I do know one new song. I don’t remember it all though. It was mentioned in Pride and Prejudice.”

“Try it. What does it hurt to try?”

“Well,” I began. “Okay.” And then I began singing.

You who have tasted love's mystic spell

What is this sorrow naught can dispel?

What is this sorrow naught can dispel?

While thus I languish, wild beats my heart,

Yet from my anguish I would not part,

I seek a treasure fate still denies,

Naught else will pleasure,

Naught else I prize...

Ewan and I both stared at the egg. It still shimmered the same golden color, shining brightly in the sunlight. But not more than that.

I shook my head. “Mister Darcy would definitely frown at that rendition. I don’t know its song,” I said, stroking it gently.

Ewan turned and looked at me. He gasped. “Rapunzel?”

I looked up. Much to my surprise, it seemed that all the butterflies in the field had come to me. They fluttered all around me. And my hair, which did look copper-colored in the bright sunlight, had taken on an almost pink hue. But it wasn’t just my hair that was glowing: a warm, rosy glow radiated off my skin.

Smiling, I stood and extended my arms. The butterflies danced playfully around me then after a few moments, flew off.

“What…was that?” Ewan asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes when I sing, animals are attracted to the song. And then there is this—I don’t know what to call it—magic, I guess, that comes over me.”

Ewan shook his head. “Beautiful.”

I smirked. “Are you saying I’m beautiful?”

“Well, yeah.”

That was not the answer I expected. I had expected him to say something funny or witty. A true compliment? No, I wasn’t anticipating that. “Thank you. Pretty or not, still no luck,” I said, gazing down at the egg.

“Well, Miss Pendragon, we’ll come up with something,” Ewan said. Then, he chuckled.

“What is it?”

“It just occurred to me. I am the first Pellinore to actually capture the Questing Beast…well, beasts, in their case,” he said motioning from the egg to the girls. “And I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to protect anything more in my life. Well, almost anything.” He reached out and touched my chin. “Some dragon hunter I am.”

I swallowed hard, trying not to let my feelings show. To hide them, I grinned. “Ewan, I have something to tell you,” I whispered.

The lines around his mouth trembled. “Yes?”

“You won’t laugh.”

“Rapunzel… No, of course not.”

“Ewan… I love bacon.”

At that, Ewan laughed then placed his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close, planting a kiss on the top of my head. “Yeah. Me too.”