(out of all the fairy tale universes my favorite one for l&l will always be sleeping beauty because i canāt get over the idea of jack lasso-ing a dragon. like i still think about that no less than four times a week.)
Before he can kiss his princess, he has to wrangle a dragon.
Jack, ever the daring prince man, tackles it with nothing more than his lasso. No shield, not even a dagger tucked into his boot. His courage drives him forward, the mix of anger adrenaline causing his blood to pound in his ears.
Each expert crack of the whip snaps away the thorns sprawling around the castle, creating a path until he is faced with a black-purple dragon the size of the tower.
Nothing could stand in the way of the woman he loves.
His devotion and love don't just show on his face; it's almost a glow that envelops him as he fashions the whip into his trademark lasso.
A deep, centering breath shakes his shoulder only ever-so-slightly - it's barely noticeable, though Fauna swears she watched him tremble.
It happens in the blink of an eye: the lasso is thrown, and the dragon is conquered. Jack is victorious, the monster no match for his love or his lasso. It glows slightly against the scales - a blue-white light emanating from the material.
He doesn't question it.
The faeries know.
Jack doesn't look back as he ascends the tower, kicking in the door to his beloved's chambers.
(Yes, he's still shimmering.)
His heart nearly leaps into his throat at the sight of her - he slides against the slick tile in a rush to her bedside.
She is his world.
He traces her cheek gently with the pads of his fingers. She looks so pale, the freckles that dust the bridge of her nose more apparent than the last time he saw her in the forest. (That was before he knew she was a princess - how fitting, as he was a prince...)
Half on the bed, half leaning on the floor, Jack cradles Laura gently.
The way he kisses her, however, cannot be described as gentle.
It's desperate - his eyes squeeze shut, forehead wrinkles as he presses it against hers, noses together - and his mind is racing.
Please, please --
A small gasp comes from the princess - she shifts awkwardly against him, trapped hands seeking purchase anywhere - and Jack stops. He pulls away for a moment to look at her, to take her in as she begins to cry.
"It's you --"
"It's me, sweetheart," he whispers softly, brushing away a falling tear with his thumb. His own tears threaten to spill as he looks at her, awake in his arms. "It's me."
Laura nods, tears still falling down her cheeks as she leans in for another kiss.
-- And as the story goes: they lived happily ever after.
