All his life, Sam had been told of the beautiful Princess sleeping in the tower. When he was old enough, the task of minding the roses on the Thorn Wall fell to him, and Sam took his responsiblity very seriously.
Sometimes when he would prune a withered branch or pull a weed, he would imagine that the princess could see him in her dreams. Eventually, he began to talk softly to her as he went about his tasks. The wind would ruffle his hair like a hand, and twist through the thorns with a sound of delighted laughter.
One morning, Sam came to the wall of throns to find someone had been hacking away at them. Angry, he followed the crude path inward, determined to give the intruder a piece of his mind.
A defeaning roar came from overhead, and Sam gasped as an enormous head loomed far above his. The dragon took a deep breath, then blew a great burst of fire. The thorns before Sam withered and burned, and he hurried through them, hoping he would not be burnt as well.
There was another roar from the dragon, but this was more a cry of defeat and anger. Sam burst out of the burning bushes to see the dragon crumpled before the form of a knight clad in shining mail. It was mail unlike any Sam had seen in his books, decorative and light looking.
The Prince, for so he was, pulled hard on his sword, stuck fast in the dragon's breast. Sam rolled his eyes and moved over to help, shouldering the Prince out of the way and taking a different hold on the sword. The blade slid free with a rush of black blood, and Sam stepped quickly back, offering the sword back to its owner.
The Prince removed his helmet and accepted the sword, cleaning it carefully on a bit of grass and an old rag before sheathing it. "Thank you, my good man."
Sam crossed his arms and glared. "I'm not your good man. Who do you think you are, coming in here and hacking away at all my hard work?"
A blink, and the Prince looked very startled. "I beg your pardon?"
"The Wall." Sam gestured to it, wincing as he did so. The dragon's fire had done a lot of damage to the thorns.
"Oh." The Prince smoothed back his hair and shook his head. "I had to hack through it. How else would I be able to rescue the princess?"
It was Sam's turn to blink. "What?"
Picking up his helmet, the Prince motioned to the highest tower. "Sleeping Beauty. I have come to set her free."
He set off towards the main hall, and Sam trailed after him. "But you can't do that!"
"Why not?"
"Because-" Sam shut his mouth. How could he claim to have fallen in love with a woman he'd never even seen?
They found the staircase, winding up and up, and climbed it. The Prince was panting heavily by the time they reached the top, and even Sam had to admit to being winded. A plain wooden barred their path and a push at it cleared the last obstacle.
The room at the top of the tower was dusty and mostly unfurnished. Only a spinning wheel, the spindle sharp and wicked looking, and the bed where the Princess lay.
Sweeping over to her side, the Prince knelt and took her hand. "At last, you are free," he said, and kissed her.
Nothing happened.
The Prince blinked. Sam blinked. They exchanged glances, then looked again at the Princess, who lay as before.
She slept on, her breathing even and slow. Sam stepped forward and sank to his knees at her other side. He looked again at the Prince, who shrugged and nodded, then gently pressed his lips to the Princess's.
He drew back and found her eyes on him, blinking slowly. The Prince squeezed her hand joyfully, and she turned to look at him. "Who are my rescuers?"
Sam cleared his throat nervously. "I'm Sam, the gardner," he said.
The Prince kissed her hand. "Prince Frodo, at your service, my lady."
The Princess sat up and smiled at them both. "And I am Briar Rosie. Thank you for waking me."
Sam blushed. Prince Frodo blushed. Together they said, "It was our pleasure."
~