Dragons share an evolutionary ancestor with sharks and therefore also have Ampullae of Lorenzini.
Conflicts now resolvable with tactical snoot rubs.
With a somewhat dramatic, disgusted sigh she takes the elegant weapon from the hands of the expired dragoon. Long and tapered, just flexible enough, with a hardened and wicked point at the tip. Nice double handed grip with a sturdy guard, this will suffice.
The cat witch, the dragon charmer, a woman transformed long ago in forced servitude as another's familiar, her master dead and gone now a century ago and yet she lives on. A short, dense, glossy black coat and glittering jewel-green eyes, five feet tall and in a deep midnight green casting robe and long tipped hat. She certainly looks the part, though her return to humanity had not gone so well thanks to her former master being such an incredible cheapskate and a hack, but at least right now she's early in her second life in this form. Seven left if this goes badly. Her eyes track the dragon overhead as it swoops down, warming up another round of crystal flame for the attack.
"Let's hope I don't have to reincarnate before dinner, hm?" She addresses the corpse. "Not that you'd know anything about that. What kind of asshole sends a detachment of lancers to the Dragon Kingdom for a betrothal anyway?"
Self-proclaimed god kings, wizards, fools. That's who. It doesn't matter, she has a job to do. The diminutive feline plants her feet and flexes her claws, shoulders the enormous fighting lance, counts the dragon's swooping arc down against the glow in its throat, and charges. Damn, this thing is heavy. She's going to need the momentum if it's going to work, and she sprints ahead with all her might on an eye-to-eye intercept with the incoming crystal dragon. Professional or not, it's always at least a little terrifying going in against an opponent with a mouth larger than your whole body.
The two come together on the field just outside the great castle, the elder king looking out at the sight of this enchanted cat witch who holds the fate of his youngest grand-daughter in her hands. He sees the crystal flames begin to lick at the corners of the dragon's mouth, the cat lifts the foreigner's lance high as the two come together for the telling strike. The lance tip gleams deadly in the bright sun as the cat leaps and thrusts with all her bearing, hitting her mark perfectly into the crook of an ancient boulder mostly buried beneath the grass. Iron sparks on stone as the shaft jams in place and bends, storing tension. Don't break don't break don't break don't break don't break... it flexes perfectly, thankfully, the signature of a finely built lance. The rebound flings the small feline witch in an arc over the column of crystal fire and clear of the dragon's horns. She drops neatly to her feet on the dragon's back at the forward joint of her wings and hunkers down for grip.
The great silver and turquoise dragon roars and thrashes, soaring upward, twisting and flailing to dislodge her passenger. The witch tightens herself down, digging her claws in at the edges of scales and apologizing as she does. "I know this hardly hurts you, but it bothers me just the same. At least it will be over quickly."
The two soar high into the sky over the castle, wrestling in midair as the cat makes her way up the dragon's neck. She dodges swats from great claws, but fortunately it's difficult to fight and fly and this dragon isn't all that experienced in combat. Finally she conjures a quick spell and a pair of ropes, glowing bright green, fly from her hands and wrap securely around the dragon's horns. She pulls herself up with a great heave and lands safely between the horn bases, ropes unwrapping at her command. The dragon bellows and dives for the forest, possibly aiming to rub her off in the trees.
Not this time! The ropes come out again and wrap two, three, five, ten times around the dragon's snout and force her to pull up. The king, court, and commoners all can only watch as it plays out high in the sky. They see flashes of flame and magic, hear the struggling cries of the dragon as her fire is contained. Then it happens. The cat witch lashes herself to the top of the dragon's snout with her ropes, freeing up her hands. The dragon's eyes cross in confusion as the cat stretches out and with sheathed claws and rubs just between the nostrils and under them, right around the sensory pits above the jaw. She gives her the soft paws, a full knead as cats do. Oh, it's magical~
Slitted aquamarine eyes flicker and roll halfway back as her fury breaks, her focus breaks. She's totally overwhelmed with bliss for just a moment, her wings and flight path droop, and the pair begin to fall together. A moment later she gasps and startles as her senses come back. Her mouth is unbound, there is a witch on her head desperately clinging between her horns, and the ground is racing up at her with incredible speed. Oh shit!
"Spread your wings and pull up level, don't climb! Just glide!"
"I'm sorry, what the hell happened, why are we flying and why are you on my head?"
"I'll explain on the way, thank you. Set down in the empty pasture out by the vineyard, away from all the knights and other various... idiots."
The two circle slowly downward toward the directed landing area, dragoness getting to her senses and witch glad to have not lost another life in this ridiculous kingdom.
"Okay... it's so weird. One minute we were at the reception, finally making ready for the feast and Ser Gregory was running his mouth. The next we're in freefall?"
"Yeah about that, you won't have to worry about him any more."
"Oh thank the heavens, did grandfather finally see the light and banish him?"
"No. As I recall he slid his hand up your bustle and you transformed in the courtyard. Barbecued him in his parade armor like so many clams roasted in their shells."
"Oh. Well. I suppose I'm in a bit of trouble when we get back, aren't I?"
"I wouldn't say that. I haven't seen your grandfather laugh like that in half a century, and your idiot uncle's idiot plans are in shambles and he's been banished from the realm."
"And the feast?"
"Still on. I suppose everyone has at least had appetizers by now, you and I are probably the only ones still hungry. There, at the head of the field by the grape pressing shed. Your handmaiden is waving at us, she has a change of clothes for you."
"Oh! Good good. I'd say it's a pity about the dress but I hate corsets anyway. I am sorry about all this, honestly. I mean I was going to fry him on the honeymoon but I didn't mean to crash the feast."
"You'll be fine, I'm sure, but you could use some work on your self control just the same. We can't have you blacking out and roasting foreign emissaries every time you get hangry, even when they desperately deserve it. Not to mention I'm sure at least a couple members of the visiting court survived, and they will be curious about some things."
They settle down by the pressing shed and the cat dismounts, her enchanted ropes winding themselves and stowing in the folds of her robes. One wraps around her waist and gives her a little snug, for fashion, and she calls her staff back into her hands. An ancient white ash root grown around a natural crystal knob, polished with purpose, use, and time. Shortly thereafter a party of mixed royals and visitors comes rushing from the south gate of the castle out toward the vineyard. Just in time, as the young princess is being dressed and attended by her maiden while the witch strides out first from the pressing shed.
"Mistress Emerald!" one of the visiting court cries out, seeing her first. "You are alive! What of the princess? And the dragon?"
"I have survived, as well so has the princess. The dragon has been ...driven off, for now. We shall deal with it later. However the princess's gown was rent to shreds in the fray and her handmaiden has brought some of her house clothes to wear. Do hold your place and your eyes, and she will be about when she is fit to be seen by men from out her house."
"Ah, that is wonderful news among such poor tidings. She is to be a bride no more, Ser Gregory was taken from us in the attack. So sudden it was, there shall be no wedding to-day."
"Odd, you would think he be warded against such things having come to the Dragon Kingdom for his bride. So may it be, we should feast just the same. For the life of the Princess and all the rest of the court has been spared. Rejoice in life, drink in memory of your knight."
"Odd indeed, but a point well made. I must know if you're able to tell, what magic is it you employ that allows you to subdue dragons so, to bring them to your heel?"
"Ampullae of Lorenzini, a secret of master dragon whisperers, long in the teaching. The trick is surviving long enough while getting close enough to employ it."
"Incredible, I've not heard of such magics across any land."
"Indeed, young squire." The cat witch glances over her shoulder as princess and maiden emerge hand-in-hand from the shed. "Tis hidden wisdom much like the clitoris, you're like to never find it unless you've gone in head first."
"Amazing. I shall ask of our eldest wizards whence we return home."
She coughs gently into her sleeve. "Best of luck."
