They stood at the bottom of a hill close to the Elysian Fields. Paradise Valley it was called, where lovers came to gaze and swoon. Fantasy Bridge, where only the truly dead and worthy were allowed passage to Elysia, was not far away, guarded by a host of angels.

The beautiful maiden kissed him. Sudden, passionate and wet.

It should have felt electric, should have felt right. The free romance of a dusky stardust rain, the rainbow-light. The evening they had spent dining in Lovers Lane a wonder, his soul pulsing in admiration for the maiden’s mind and the way it wrapped itself around the universe. His heart should have thumped and leapt. His heart should have stuck in his damn throat.

I dunno, Constant thought. He shouldn’t have worried about them getting trampled by the free running unicorn. But Constant couldn’t keep ‘em eyes closed. Kept peeping behind her head at every whinny and hoof drop. It made for a distracted kiss.

He spied a rookie Cupid up there on the chapel roof slipping in the rain, and knew it had come for him. The heart-stabber tried getting a foot-hold on the diamond tiles and raise his short-bow. But his wings were too small and fresh. They couldn’t quite lift the chubby fecker properly. Half a quivers worth of white arrows stood poking up from the golden grasses around them. Constant cursed him silently.

Maiden Fairaest pulled away, laughing.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh. Maybe I’m nervous.’

He loved the way her beautiful eyes seemed to see his very soul and focus on its shiny parts. ‘Maybe you are nervous,’ he said, then decided: ‘Yes, you are nervous, Fairest.’

She kissed him again. Constant jumped at a close passing unicorn. She hardly seemed to notice, lost in the timeless pace of time and space. She snuggled him. She told him he smelt good. He didn’t tell her it was Jester Dave’s Dragon Ear Scent. That he didn’t have his own. That he was still a part-time thief and recovering scoundrel. A lost adventurer trapped in the beat of a maiden’s heart. Unsure as to whether he could bring a co-conspirator on the Adventure Ship soon setting sail for the Pirate Isles deep in the Ninth Galaxy. Nor was Constant sure when it would return, or if he would be on it.

He tried stepping into a desperate shot from the overweight Cupid but the bloody thing fell short. The bloody thing struck a unicorn in the ass. The unicorn went haring off wildly after its love, usual unicorn decorum ditched. These were Paradise Valley Unis after all, not the fabled ‘Lysian.

Fairaest kissed him again with soft sweet lips. ‘I don’t want the night to end. But I have to go. Can I give you a lift?’

‘No no,’ said Constant, ‘I have a ride, you go on.’

She jumped into her rocket ship and streaked off into the late traffic of the Milky Way. His eyebrows singed a little from the take-off blast but they needed a trim anyway, so Constant didn’t mind.

He whistled sharply. A few pairs of lovers with professional Cupids hovering about them gave him odd looks. Constant ignored them, examining the blade of his saber. He grew impatient and slashed at some grass importantly. Constant checked the blade once more. He tapped his booted foot and whistled again.

‘Bout bloody time, you silly ass!’ Said Constant, ‘making me look like a Moppet while I wait on your slow plod!’

He hopped onto the saddle grandly but the thing weren’t tight enough and he nearly fell off. The damned donkey must have held its breath when he tightened the belt earlier. Now Constant sat a bit crooked on it’s back. And there was no way he was gonna fuss about adjusting it in front of all these snooty swooners.

Constant spurred the donkey who refused any other name but Sea Biscuit in the flanks.

‘Belt it, Sea Biscuit!’ he cried, pointing his saber forward. Sea Biscuit sort of shuffled sideways, a bit confused. ‘To the Castle!’

Sea Biscuit trotted, stumbled and tripped off in the general direction of the castle. Constant was slung and bounced around very undignified-like. The bloody donkey was drunk again.

‘I told you to stay away from that damned unicorn piss, you dumb ass!’

Sea Biscuit snorted. Sea Biscuit broke wind. Constant heard a frightened squeal and coughing somewhere behind them. He twisted around to see the fat Cupid with at least twenty Valley fairies assisting him in flight, their faces screwed up in horror, sweating with exertion. The Cupid pulled his last arrow out. Constant groaned.

The Cupid fit the arrow to string. The Cupid pulled and loosed. A strong pull, a steady loose. But the angle was all wrong. The arrow struck Sea Biscuit in the flank and he brayed crazed monkey style, lips pulled back and head shaking viciously. The drunken donkey jumped up on his hind legs in a poor imitation of a stallion, then took off after a terrified unicorn which galloped away for dear life.

Constant was flung from the saddle and landed in a heap. He came up spitting golden grass, glaring blue murder at the Cupid who now stood chest deep in the grass. The wanna-be heart-stabber felt hastily in his quiver but found it empty.

Rookie Cupid raised a pudgy index. He pointed at his quiver, then at the far-off Fire Heart Forest where Lady Love nested in the high branches. The fairies scattered. Rookie Cupid breathed disappointed. He took off running, pudgy arms and short legs pumping hurriedly, crazily flapping wings lifting him occasionally.

‘To bloody hell with it,’ said Constant, and set off toward Castle Picasso. As always the Gate Guarda made a show of allowing him entry. As if he didn’t live there most of the time. The bunch of posers.

He stomped into Jester Dave’s quarters and displayed his confused heart in a bloody mess over his friend’s late supper.

‘Oh, stop being such drama queen,’ said Jester Dave, ‘So she kissed you. You like her she likes you. Just take your bloody time.’

‘But there weren’t no bloody fireworks!’

‘So? You’re just a scared pansy.’

Jester Dave gently pushed Constants’ heart back into his heaving chest. ‘Been ages since a nice maiden took a liking to you. Dunno why she has, but this is one gift horse you don’t look in the mouth. Hey, is that my Dragons Ear Scent you got on there?’

‘I’ll stew this bloody gift horse, I tell ya!’ shouted Constant and flounced out the room, ‘DRAGONS PISS!’

He burst into the throne room. ‘My Queen!’ he shouted, and flung his heart at her feet onto the dais. Courtiers scurried away sniffing salts.

The regal beauty said, ‘If its not in the kiss, my wayward one, then its not in the wind,’

‘Drats!’ cried Constant, ‘Blast and Spite!’

He snatched up his heart. A hasty bow and he was stomping back through the castle, courtiers and goblin servants jumping out his way.

In the courtyard he accosted his good friend, Knight Timothy the Valiant. The Knight upon his massive black war horse prodded Constant in the chest with his lance.

‘If she be a true maiden,’ he said, ‘then she would choose your love as a friend over that of turbulent chaos of the heart. Is that my hat?’

Constant said, ‘Aye, its yer bleeding hat. What of it?’

‘It looks broken.’

‘Well cry me a river. But what in the blazes do I do, Mister bloody Knight in Shining Armor?’

‘Let me ask you this,’ said Knight Timothy leaning down from his horse Paramount and raising his visor, ‘you have loved maidens before and they you, yes? How many of them are you still friends with?’

For once Constant was honest, ‘Well, none. Not really like. Just kinda like sorta.’

Knight Timothy snapped his visor down. ‘State your name and occupation!’

‘Constant Falter! Adventurer! Thrill Seeker to the Queen of Dreams!’

‘Hi Ya!’ And the Knight galloped off into the running sky.

Rookie Cupid floated clumsily into view, fumbling with his now full quiver.

Constant pulled his Dragon Tooth slingshot and let the fat Cupid have one between the eyes. He ran over and grabbed an arrow out the quiver.

‘I’ll do the bloody job myself, you tub ‘o lard.’

Constant Falter took the small white arrow with his name on it. He kissed the tip. He stabbed himself in the heart.

Far, far away, where dragons would sometimes go to play with fire, a voice clucked: ‘Tsk, tsk, tsk.’

Constant turned angrily. ‘But why Father Death?’ he said, ‘why am I here?’

A wistful shake of shadows. ‘You cannot force the hand of the universe, Falter. You will but hurt your heart in the mortal way. My advice is to stab yo ass the next time.’

‘You ain’t getting a drum roll for that, you stale fart,’ said Constant and kicked at a morose soul slinking by.

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