A chatty dragon with a hoard full of technically worthless things with amazing stories attached.
“You collect trash,” said the visiting Princess.
“Not… quite,” allowed the Dragon Freasha. “Pick out something. Go ahead. Just -ah- mind where it came from so it can go back?”
It was a very ratty teddy-bear. Much abused and on the verge of falling apart.
“Ah. That belonged to my first princess. Father made me kidnap her. She was four and very scared. I told him I ate her, but I kept her safe in my lair and let her build a soft nest in-between my wings. When the knights came to rescue her, I sneaked her out of a side-cavern. Her name was Petunia. Ah. She let me keep the bear when she left. Said it would keep the nightmares away.”
“Okay,” said Princess Sunflower. She put the bear back and took out a rusting old mirror, made of copper. “What about this?”
“I was just a baby. I got lost and found my way to a little village. It’s gone, now. Nothing but old ruins and moss. But there was this beautiful lady brushing her hair. It was the colour of night. I asked her when she would put stars in her hair. And she said that it was day time, so flowers would have to do. I spent the rest of the day finding star-like flowers for her. It made her laugh. She put some into a crown for me and let me keep her mirror.”
“You don’t collect trash,” giggled Sunflower, putting the mirror carefully away. “You collect stories.”
“Very smart. Some of my visitors demand as many as twenty stories before they catch on.” Freasha smiled, showing many of her sharp fangs. “I do like smart princesses. They often bring their own stories.”
Sunflower laughed. “And father sent me up here to get storytelling out of my system…”
“Fathers don’t always know a lot,” Freasha admitted. She nestled down around Sunflower. “How many stories have you got?”