The Knight pulled off his helmet and slumped against the cool stone wall.
The Dragon watched him and waited.
'I never wanted to be a Knight, you know. I always wanted to be a baker. I always wanted to bake sweets and pastries, strawberry tarts, lemon muffins, sourdough bread as big as my head...'
He sighed and turned to the dragon.
'I was gonna have a small shop in the middle of town, greet my regulars with a smile, give kids free samples of cakes.'
His sniffed and wiped away a tear.
The Dragon sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulder.
'But then' he continued 'Me and my mates heard about this "sacred sword" sticking out the ground that no one could pull out, and we thought it would be a laugh to have a go after having a few drinks, turns out... I'M THE BLOODY CHOSEN ONE!"
The Knight put his head in his hands and started sobbing.
The dragon rubbed his back gently, it was comforting, even if he couldn't feel it through the armour.
The Knight gave one last sniff, wiped his nose, and smiled at the Dragon.
'Thank you' he said
'Its okay' the Dragon said 'Look, it's not too late, there's still time to open the shop. Heck, make some eclairs and I'll be round in a shot.'
She smiled at him, her sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight.
He smiled back.
'You think?' he said. 'But what about all that chosen one stuff?'
He pulled out his sword and vaguely waved it in the air
'Bollocks to it' the Dragon said.
She stood up and stretched her wings.
'We'll go sort out this princess, stop her terrorising the village, and you'll be whipping up cream cakes like no one's business.'
She lifted her axe onto her shoulder, and struck a pose that she hoped was heroic.
'I mean, how hard can it be to beat a Fire-breathing princess?’