He was tall, blond, muscular, and far more handsome than the first dozen or so princes who had come through the court seeking to win the Princess’s hand.
He also looked very surprised when the King tried to hand him a sword.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m actually quite useless with a sword.”
The King blinked.
The young man smiled and lifted one hand, conjured a ball of light on his palm. “I’m a sorcerer, not a warrior. My prince, however, is a fine swordsman.”
The prince was a few inches taller than the sorcerer, whipcord thin, and pale, dark-haired. He had lovely blue eyes, but his cheekbones and mouth were distressingly pretty, and it looked as though the armor he was wearing had been made for a twelve-year-old squire. He did, however, accept the sword with easy grace, as one used to wielding a weapon, and he bowed.
“Well, Prince, er, Merlin, I’m sure my daughter is looking forward to your prowess in single combat. Isn’t that right, Guinevere?” The King cast his daughter a look.
She wrenched her gaze away from the sorcerer and nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. Good luck, Prince Merlin.”
He bowed and kissed her hand, and when he smiled, she felt something in her chest hitch. “Thank you, my princess,” he said, and he straightened up, strode into the ring where the kingdom’s finest warrior was waiting.
“Is he good?” Guinevere asked the sorcerer.
“He’s better than he looks,” the sorcerer said. He smiled and added, “My name’s Arthur, by the way.”
(260 words)
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Friday, November 27, 2009
The Door in the Tower
She sighed and picked disconsolately at the tapestry she was supposed to be making. She didn’t even remember what the picture was supposed to be anymore. Before she could fling herself restlessly onto her bed, she heard the familiar call, that ridiculous name Aunt had picked and that stupid chant about her hair.
She bundled her hair up, hauled it across the tower, and peered out.
Another buffoon in fancy armor on a horse. Of course.
She sighed again and let her hair down, and when he made it to the top she kissed him on the cheek before Aunt burst out of nowhere and chased the boy off with magic.
“You can’t be so picky,” Aunt said after the knight tumbled to the ground and staggered away, blinded and cursed.
“I want an interesting boy, thank you very much,” Rapunzel said, and plopped down in front of the tapestry next door.
“You won’t be young and pretty forever, and if I keep cursing those knights soon no one will be telling your story in the courts,” Aunt said.
Rapunzel shrugged and picked at the tapestry some more.
***
She woke in the middle of the night to find a young man perched on her windowsill. A scarf covered the lower half of his face, and he had a wicked-looking dagger instead of a sword.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“A thief,” he said. “I heard there was a fancy tapestry here that would fetch good money. Go to sleep, let me take the tapestry, and I won’t hurt you.”
“Well,” Rapunzel said, “how about you cut all this stupid hair off, marry me, and then for once, someone can use the stupid door at the bottom of the tower?”
“Why should I marry you?”
“I’m a princess.”
(298 words)
She bundled her hair up, hauled it across the tower, and peered out.
Another buffoon in fancy armor on a horse. Of course.
She sighed again and let her hair down, and when he made it to the top she kissed him on the cheek before Aunt burst out of nowhere and chased the boy off with magic.
“You can’t be so picky,” Aunt said after the knight tumbled to the ground and staggered away, blinded and cursed.
“I want an interesting boy, thank you very much,” Rapunzel said, and plopped down in front of the tapestry next door.
“You won’t be young and pretty forever, and if I keep cursing those knights soon no one will be telling your story in the courts,” Aunt said.
Rapunzel shrugged and picked at the tapestry some more.
She woke in the middle of the night to find a young man perched on her windowsill. A scarf covered the lower half of his face, and he had a wicked-looking dagger instead of a sword.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“A thief,” he said. “I heard there was a fancy tapestry here that would fetch good money. Go to sleep, let me take the tapestry, and I won’t hurt you.”
“Well,” Rapunzel said, “how about you cut all this stupid hair off, marry me, and then for once, someone can use the stupid door at the bottom of the tower?”
“Why should I marry you?”
“I’m a princess.”
(298 words)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Logic From a Former Mermaid
“Well,” she mused over the side of the deck to her sisters, “if he was willing to forget me so easily, perhaps he doesn’t love me as much as I thought he did.”
One sister blinked. “As you said, he was enchanted.”
“This is true, but enchantments can be broken by true love. Apparently his love is not so true.”
Another sister nodded. “Then do what you must.” She swam closer to the deck, reared up on the cap of a wave and offered her tool. “Take it and return to live with us forever.”
The former mermaid nodded and accepted the knife.
A few minutes later, she realized that, even if her prince’s heart had not been true, it had at least been quite healthy. She sank her teeth into the thickness of the muscle, tasted iron on her tongue, and when it was done, she flung herself overboard --
And vanished beneath the waves with a splash and a flick of her shiny new tail.
(166 words)
One sister blinked. “As you said, he was enchanted.”
“This is true, but enchantments can be broken by true love. Apparently his love is not so true.”
Another sister nodded. “Then do what you must.” She swam closer to the deck, reared up on the cap of a wave and offered her tool. “Take it and return to live with us forever.”
The former mermaid nodded and accepted the knife.
A few minutes later, she realized that, even if her prince’s heart had not been true, it had at least been quite healthy. She sank her teeth into the thickness of the muscle, tasted iron on her tongue, and when it was done, she flung herself overboard --
And vanished beneath the waves with a splash and a flick of her shiny new tail.
(166 words)
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Role Reversal
"I tell you I saw one. I'm not lying," cub said, trying to get anyone's attention.
Everyone passed by the young one, ignoring what he was saying.
"Please, you've got to believe me," he begged, trying to get anyone to stop and listen to him.
"Do you really think that anyone is going to believe that there are humans out there," one said as they brushed past the cub.
"But."
"Give it up," another said and bumped him back.
The young cub sulked as he trotted to the edge of the clearing, "No one believed me."
"Can you blame them?" A voice asked from behind him.
Everyone passed by the young one, ignoring what he was saying.
"Please, you've got to believe me," he begged, trying to get anyone to stop and listen to him.
"Do you really think that anyone is going to believe that there are humans out there," one said as they brushed past the cub.
"But."
"Give it up," another said and bumped him back.
The young cub sulked as he trotted to the edge of the clearing, "No one believed me."
"Can you blame them?" A voice asked from behind him.
House of Brick
“I think,” First said, “that dynamite might be apropos at this point.”
Second tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Look, just because wind and fire haven’t worked at this point doesn’t mean we need to be quite so extreme. Maybe a high-powered blast of water? What say you, Third?”
Third already had a detonator, a pair of pliers, and several blocks of plastique out on his work bench.
“Then the majority has ruled,” First said. “Dynamite it is.”
Second sighed and shook his head. He turned back toward the brick house and called out. “Really, Mr. Wolf, this is becoming quite tiresome! This is the third house of yours we’re going to have to demolish. You might as well give up now.”
“No!” came the muffled reply from behind the front door. “Go away!”
“Look,” Third said drolly, “he’s lit a fire to prevent us from crawling down the chimney.”
First reached for the pliers. “Let’s get to work, brothers.”
(159 words)
Second tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Look, just because wind and fire haven’t worked at this point doesn’t mean we need to be quite so extreme. Maybe a high-powered blast of water? What say you, Third?”
Third already had a detonator, a pair of pliers, and several blocks of plastique out on his work bench.
“Then the majority has ruled,” First said. “Dynamite it is.”
Second sighed and shook his head. He turned back toward the brick house and called out. “Really, Mr. Wolf, this is becoming quite tiresome! This is the third house of yours we’re going to have to demolish. You might as well give up now.”
“No!” came the muffled reply from behind the front door. “Go away!”
“Look,” Third said drolly, “he’s lit a fire to prevent us from crawling down the chimney.”
First reached for the pliers. “Let’s get to work, brothers.”
(159 words)
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Musings from the Psuedo Grave
"I bet no one ever told you that it was a nightmare, this tale over which you sigh romantically. I bet they never told you while you listened to some sweet fairytale, that it wasn't all a path lined with roses. I'm sure that you realized that at one point, but I am just as sure that you ignored it. How do you know that the slipper didn't have a nail through it, or the kiss of life wasn't really just an excuse to put the moves on a helpless woman. Did you ever stop to wonder if I'm really asleep, or whether I can still hear and think. That I have been slowly going crazy year after year. Every storm I've heard, every rap on my glass coffin, every step in the woods."
"Yup. Slowly going crazy..."
"Yup. Slowly going crazy..."
Deceptive Beauty
What no one realized was that she could hear everything. Over time she’d learned to tell who people were, where they were, just by the sound of their footsteps and voices. Slow, shuffling footsteps accompanied by wheezing breath and a voice like a creaky door meant some old woman - a hedge-witch, likely - collecting herbs. Quick, light steps and bright, sparkling laughter meant children exploring the ancient, overgrown castle.
She wasn’t quite sure how time passed, because she couldn’t see anything and had no concept of light or dark, day or night, but she knew one voice that came regularly. She was quite sure he was the only one who knew she was there, and he would talk to her - about everything. About how his mother nagged him, about how he was doing his best to fill his dead father’s shoes, about how his little sister let the goat loose again.
So when she heard the almost-forgotten clank of armor and swirl of a heavy cape and knew that some prince had arrived, she knew her time had come.
When he kissed her, she could feel the spell that had weighed her limbs down for so long begin to stir, pull free. But she kept very, very still and waited until he left, heavy footsteps slow with disappointment.
And then she heard that familiar light, easy gait, that gentle tenor.
“Good day, my sleeping princess. It’s been quite a madcap out there - someone left the bull’s pen open and he’s been marauding in the village. We just barely managed to wrangle him back into place.”
She felt him settle on the edge of her bed.
She opened her eyes and sat up.
“Hello,” she said. “My name is Aurora.” And she kissed him.
(294 words)
She wasn’t quite sure how time passed, because she couldn’t see anything and had no concept of light or dark, day or night, but she knew one voice that came regularly. She was quite sure he was the only one who knew she was there, and he would talk to her - about everything. About how his mother nagged him, about how he was doing his best to fill his dead father’s shoes, about how his little sister let the goat loose again.
So when she heard the almost-forgotten clank of armor and swirl of a heavy cape and knew that some prince had arrived, she knew her time had come.
When he kissed her, she could feel the spell that had weighed her limbs down for so long begin to stir, pull free. But she kept very, very still and waited until he left, heavy footsteps slow with disappointment.
And then she heard that familiar light, easy gait, that gentle tenor.
“Good day, my sleeping princess. It’s been quite a madcap out there - someone left the bull’s pen open and he’s been marauding in the village. We just barely managed to wrangle him back into place.”
She felt him settle on the edge of her bed.
She opened her eyes and sat up.
“Hello,” she said. “My name is Aurora.” And she kissed him.
(294 words)
Monday, November 23, 2009
Warts
"All you have to do is kiss me and I'll turn back into a prince," the frog croaked.
"Yeah, but won't I get warts or something," the young girl asked. She looked skeptically at the little frog. she had just been sitting near the pond resting when the creature had hopped up next to her and started talking.
"Nope. Trust me," the frog pleaded, trying his best to get her to come nearer.
"You know, my mother always warned me about talking animals. I think I had better not," She said as she stepped away from the little green amphibian.
"Yeah, but won't I get warts or something," the young girl asked. She looked skeptically at the little frog. she had just been sitting near the pond resting when the creature had hopped up next to her and started talking.
"Nope. Trust me," the frog pleaded, trying his best to get her to come nearer.
"You know, my mother always warned me about talking animals. I think I had better not," She said as she stepped away from the little green amphibian.
Little Red's True Colours
"Sorry Grandma," Little Red said.
She gazed at the sleeping wolf for a little longer, then brought the axe squarely down on its neck.
"But I want the inheritance."
Then Little Red stepped out of the house in the woods, threw her head back, and screamed. The woodcutter who had spotted her walking along the trail with her basket full of baked treats came running. She cried prettily for him, and he held her, comforted her.
As soon as the funeral was done and the will was probated, Little Red split the proceeds with her mother.
None of the wolves on the edge of the forest ever came near Little Red again.
(112 words)
She gazed at the sleeping wolf for a little longer, then brought the axe squarely down on its neck.
"But I want the inheritance."
Then Little Red stepped out of the house in the woods, threw her head back, and screamed. The woodcutter who had spotted her walking along the trail with her basket full of baked treats came running. She cried prettily for him, and he held her, comforted her.
As soon as the funeral was done and the will was probated, Little Red split the proceeds with her mother.
None of the wolves on the edge of the forest ever came near Little Red again.
(112 words)
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Project #49: Fairytale Remix
I've decided that it's been a while since we took on a genre assignment, so here I thought we would take fairytales and remix them. Think Neil Gaiman's "Snow, Glass, Apples" if you're confused about what this means. What if the princess instead of the prince were the frog? What if Snow White didn't wake up? What if the stepmother wasn't really evil? Give yourself 100-300 words to turn the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen on their heads.
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