The Dentist and the Dragon

    Njall made his way up the side of the mountain and cursed his village elders. While they sat snug and warm in their houses, he was forced to endure the cold and the wind and the rain. And soon, he’d be face to face with a dragon.

    This was a job that should have been given to a real warrior, but the elders had argued that with the raiding season well underway, the village needed all the warriors they had to defend against possible invaders. Njall scowled. They could at least have given him a sword. His dentist tools wouldn’t be much use against a giant, fire-breathing lizard.

    The cave came into view as he rounded a bend in the path. A steady trail of smoke told him the dragon was at home. That was unfortunate for Njall. He had hoped the dragon wouldn’t be home

    The dragon hadn’t been seen in a week. The elders mused that perhaps dragons slept through the winter. An ear-splitting shriek put that theory right to bed. Njall dove behind the nearest rock, fearing he’d been spotted.

    The shriek came again, and Njall realized what it was. This was no shriek of rage.

    It was a shriek of pain.

    Njall wondered what could be so terrible as to cause a dragon pain, and whether he would be forced to kill that instead. Either way, he had to investigate.

    Inside the mouth of the cave, Njall found the dragon twisting, rolling, and biting at anything that came near it.

    The dragon looked up at him, but instead of roaring, attacking, or blasting him with forge-hot flames, it ran its tongue over its teeth in a way that reminded him of a dog he had treated once. At that moment, his dentist’s instincts kicked in, and he forgot all about the danger he was supposed to be in.

    He held up his hands and slowly made his way across the cave. “Are you hurt? I might be able to help you. Let me see.”

    The dragon snarled again, and Njall could see where one of its teeth had been cracked. “Did you bite down on a rock somewhere?” Or maybe a hoof. This dragon seemed to have a preference for mutton.

    “I can help you, but it’s going to hurt. You’ll have to trust me.”

    He was worried that the dragon might not understand him, but at the mention of pain, it hissed and curled up around itself. Njall crossed his arms over his chest.

    “If you leave it in, it’ll only hurt more. Might get infected, and you’ll die.”

    The dragon seemed to understand dead, too, because it uncurled and crawled over to where he stood. Njall ignored his screaming instincts and stayed where he was. He breathed a prayer of relief when the dragon made no move to kill him.

    He pried the dragon’s mouth open and located the bad tooth. As long as the dragon held still it would come out easily.

    The tool he needed barely fit around the tooth, and the dragon flinched as he clamped down on it. Njall felt bad that he didn’t have any numbing herb to give it. He had left that all at home with the majority of his tools.

    Njall took a deep breath, braced his feet, then wrenched and yanked. The tooth came out with a sucking and a popping sound. The dragon shrieked so loud that Njall’s vision blurred.

    When his vision cleared, Njall went outside and soaked some moss in a nearby stream. It was cold, and Njall’s hands were numb before he got back in. The dragon lay on the floor, blood flowing freely from its open mouth. It looked up at him the exact way that dog had when he’d pulled its tooth three weeks ago.

    He packed the moss into the hole and held it there until the bleeding slowed. Then he pulled out his waterskin and poured some water into the dragon’s mouth. It swallowed all that he gave it, then it settled in the back of the cave, tucked its head under its wing, and went to sleep.

    Njall should have bashed its head in with a rock while it slept. Or he should have left and admitted his failure to the elders.  But he couldn’t bring himself to do either. This dragon had become one of his patients, and he couldn’t leave a job unfinished. He refilled his waterskin in the stream and harvested more moss so he could change out the dressing in a few hours.

    Njall stayed close to the dragon, making sure the gums were healing and that the dragon drank plenty of water. Before sunup, he fell into a deep sleep.

    The sun was going down again when he awoke, and for a moment he was gripped with the fear that the dragon would make a meal out of him as soon as it had recovered. He stood, stretched his sore muscles, and tiptoed out of the cave.

    But a scraping and skittering on the rocks stopped him, and he turned to see the dragon had followed him out of the cave. Instead of attacking, it crawled up to his side and butted his waterskin with its snout.

    “Seems I’ve made a friend out of you,” he said as he turned it over.

    When the dragon had its fill, it sat on its haunches and watched to see what Njall would do next. Njall in his turn sighed, patted the dragon on the head, and gestured for it to follow. “I could make up some rabbit stew that would be easy for you to eat, if you’re interested. And you’ll have to stop stealing sheep if you want to stay with me.”

    The dragon made a sound that Njall thought might be agreement. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, he thought. At least with a dragon for a pet, no one would ever stiff him on the bill again.