The Tinder Box (Incomplete, Work in Progress)

Note:...I'm kinda stuck on this one. Not because I don't know the story, but because I'm not really sure where I want to take it...so far, I've followed the story pretty closely, but I think I want to change it, quite dramatically (more then it was already)... Oh well. -Also, sorry for all of the updates tonight/this month. I have way to much time on my hands, apparently...



The Tinder Box

As a peon solider walked home from the great wars, silently bemoaning that he had no money, no clothes but what was on his back, and no plan for when he got back to his home town. He was almost ready to do himself in when an ugly crone stopped him beside a gnarled old tree.
“Hold Solider!” She latched onto his arm, “Do me a small favor and I shall repay you handsomely.”
The solider, always ready to be repaid for a good deed nodded, “Okay, Old Witch, what on earth can I do for you?”
“Beneath this true is a tunnel of fairy lights with three rooms. I will give you my cloak, for when you open the first door –there will be a dog with eyes as big as saucers. Put the dog on the cloak, so he will not bite you to pieces, and you may fill your pockets with as many of the bronze coins as you carry. At the second door is a dog with eyes as big as wagon wheels –put him on my cloak, and you can fill your pockets with as much silver as you can carry. Then, behind the last door is a dog with eyes as big as windmills –put him on my cloak, and you may fill your pockets with as much gold as you can carry.”
“Sounds too good to be true –what do you get out of this?”
“In the last room, there is also a shabby tinder box –my Grandmother forgot it down there the last time she went, and I would very much like to have it back.”
The solider nodded, “All right, I’ll do it.” And with that, he disappeared beneath the tree.
The under-tree cavern was just as the Crone has said it would be, lit by hundreds of fairy-lights, twinkling magically above him. And also, just as she had said, there were three doors, containing ugly dogs.
At the first door, he moved the Dog onto the witch’s cloak, and stuffed his pockets with as much bronze as he could carry. At the second door, he did the same, replacing the bronze with silver, and likewise in the room of gold. He nearly forgot about the witch’s tinder box, remembering it just before he was to descend back to land.
“Did you get my tinder box?”
The solider nodded, “I did –but I must ask what makes this box so dear to you. What is its secret?”
“Nothing –it is just a tinder box!”
“No one would go to all of this trouble for a mere tinder box, Crone.” The solider scolded her, “Tell me what its purpose is or I shall chop off your head, and keep the box for myself.”
“You can’t do that! It’s my tinder box!”
“I doth think you protest to much.” And with that, the solider chopped the crone’s head clean off with a simple swing of his sword.

After the occurrence, now rich beyond his wildest dreams, the solider set out to buy wonderful new clothes, and rent the very best apartment he could find. It was not long until the solider was very popular indeed, among the patrons of local pubs, buying round after round of good mead. It was also not much longer after that, in the deadliest of winters, that the solider found himself poor again. He was forced out of his fancy apartment and carefree lifestyle to a cramped little attic room above a restaurant, where he had to take a job washing dishes, just to live there.
It was on one of the colder nights of this deadly winter that the now poor solider remembered the tinder box. He found the weathered and worn leather box stuffed away on a shelf, and he quickly opened it. Inside the box was a short candle stub and flint. Slightly disappointed at the contents, but pleased at the sight of the candle, the solider quickly struck the flint across the candle wick.
There was a crash, and a bark, and suddenly the dog with eyes as big as saucers was bowing before him.
“Oh, what can I do for you Great Master?” the dog asked.
The solider was surprised, but quickly regained thought, “Well, bring me some money so I may regain my wealthy lifestyle!” –another crash and the dog was gone, and back in the blink of an eye, carrying a chest of bronze, silver, and gold coins.
The solider returned to his lavish clothing, and rented back his comfy apartment. He was living in the lap of luxury and just one thing was missing… His dogs would bring him whatever he needed, but one thing; the company of a lover.
The solider knew just exactly who that lover was to be too; a young prince that had been locked away in a tower by his father, the King. Prophecy had said that the young prince would be woo’d by a solider, disguised as a wealthy noble.