Not a Fairy Tale VII

Yay, for post three hundred.

Alexis meanwhile had become of very little use at all, having been terrified of the bear during its nighttime visit, and while he agreed to help Prince Dominique prepare for battle, he was no longer willing to help with the actual fight when it came. Actually, Alexis tried his best to convince Prince Dominique that leaving the woods and never looking back would be the best for everyone. Prince Dominique on the other hand only had his eye on the prize through all of this, a happy wedding and the respect that he felt that he deserved.

I suppose in the end I have a weakness for romantics on the rare occasion that I actually write them. There’s a reason why I still haven’t introduced Prince Dominique’s princess, and I don’t know if I will. I’ve never written a romantic scene in my life and I don’t really want to start now. On the other hand Prince Dominique is being sweet enough that I guess I feel he deserves a reward. So long as he doesn’t object to the fact that I am going back to fairy tale mechanics, I will therefore introduce the woodcutter, who will tell him the bear’s weakness. The problem is that I was bluffing before, and now I have to actually come up with one. This might take a little while, before it was just a way to make Prince Dominique feel stupid.

“You’re being pretty honest, way more honest than you usually are in your writing,” Prince Dominique pointed out. “I’ve read some of your other stories; normally you don’t talk to the audience about your writing process.”

“You’re the one that started that,” I said, taking a break from my writing to explain the sudden variation. “Normally my characters don’t talk the audience either, while I’m breaking form already, I might as well do it all the way. Now, would it be alright with Monsieur Prince if I return to fairy tale conventions a little? I wouldn’t ask, not after you made it so clear what you thought of it before, except that it would help you. To be honest I don’t like the thought of your brains being the only thing keeping you alive. Not that I’m insulting your intelligence,” I added quickly, not being willing to start another fight. “I am more commenting on your lack of combat experience.”

“Well,” said the prince, looking sheepish. “I know I said I’m not a story book prince, and I’m not, or I would have won already, but I don’t really want to die either. Just this once, you can do as you like.”

Prince Dominique was surprised when a woodcutter wandered into their camp, carefully avoiding all of the traps that filled the surrounding area. He was a man who had clearly spent all of his life out in the woods and Prince Dominique felt ignorant in comparison. Just the fact that the woodsman had been able to evade all of the traps didn’t bode well for them catching the bear.

“You here on a hunting trip?” asked the woodsman, by way of introduction, looking around the camp with curiosity. “We don’t get hunters around here often, these woods are dangerous.”

“We noticed, a bear came into our camp the other night,” said the prince, not willing to admit that he, a prince, was after the reward on the bear. “Don’t you worry, working in these woods all the time with animals like that wandering around?”

“You’re lucky to be alive if it was the bear I think,” commented the woodsman. Prince Dominique almost cut in to say that it wasn’t a comforting speech, but he decided that he would let the woodsman talk instead. “That bear is the king of the woods around here; none of the other animals are half as dangerous.”

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” the prince finally interrupted. “It’s dangerous. You work out here all the time though, and you’re not dead, which means you must have some way of surviving out here. Care to share?”

To be continued...

Not a Fairy Tale VI

There was no noise from where Prince Dominique knew Alexis had been sleeping, but he had no way of knowing if this was because Alexis was still asleep, or if it was because he was also playing dead. Finally the bear lumbered off and Prince Dominique finally stood up and started to rant at me.

“What kind of story writing is this? I went along with the bear, even though other princes get monsters, but instead of a brave hunt, the bear comes to me? Do you even know how this sort of thing is supposed to go?”

“You’re the one who told me that you weren’t a fairy tale character,” I said, crossing my arms. “I stopped writing a fairy tale, if you had been fine with being a fairy tale character I would have made it some monster from the abyss that you would have slain with your lance on your first meeting with it. You chose this, now deal with it. I should also warn you; maybe you shouldn’t have been in such a hurry to leave the capital of your cousin.”

“Why?” asked the prince, suspiciously.

“Well, had you went and talked to Prince Edmond, I was going to be nice and have him tell you the bear’s weakness, I had the scene prepared and everything. But no, you had to leave right away, so you can figure it out yourself.”

“No, tell me, what’s the bear’s weakness? You can’t just skip over an important plot point because I got hasty.”

“Watch me,” I said, and kept writing. I figure so long as I keep him occupied with constant action he won’t have time to come up with new ways to threaten me.

The next day, having only recently escaped from danger, the prince was less than eager to face the bear. He couldn’t dismiss his quest completely since he had made a deal, and everyone would look down on him if he broke it. He could on the other hand think things through, and make sure that he wouldn’t die while trying to kill the bear. This meant more work than he had first calculated, but with my hint that the bear had a weak point he felt more hope than he would have otherwise. Perhaps it is for the best that I told him, or he might have lost all confidence and run away, and that would make this a very pathetic story. I mean I can write a plot, but if the character won’t do it, there isn’t a lot I can do. The most I can promise at the point of total mutiny is that I’ll destroy the manuscript. That’s only ever happened once though.

Prince Dominique set up traps all around the camp as a first step. Now that the bear knew that it could get food in the camp, Prince Dominique didn’t want it barging in without warning again to help its self. It was a slim chance, be he did hope that the bear would fall for one of the traps and they wouldn’t have to fight it at all. Next he set to sharpening his sword, and made sure that Alexis had been taking good care of his lance. He didn’t try to do anything with the dogs; he didn’t really think that they would be much good against the creature that he had seen the night before. Dogs were good for hunting normal animals, but this didn’t seem to be a normal animal and he didn’t want any of the dogs to be killed when they didn’t stand a chance of wining. This was going to take more brains than brute strength, which had been the tactic he had at first favored.

To be continued...

Not a Fairy Tale V

Though it was already late in the day, Prince Dominique was not willing to stay another day in court. As soon as they were out of the audience chamber the prince almost ran to the rooms they had been given and he ordered all of their things were to be packed immediately. They were sleeping in an inn at the outskirts of the capital by nightfall that night.

I know that it’s bad story telling, but I’m going to skip ahead here, this isn’t because I don’t want to tell you about what happened on the prince’s way to the forest where Prince Edmond had been attacked, but it wasn’t very eventful. I’m worried that if Prince Dominique gets bored, he’ll start interrupting me, and I only just got him to stop. Anyway, to keep our ADD teenager entertained, we’ll start up with Prince Dominique and Alexis already deep in the forest where they’ve been riding all day.

“I heard that, I have a fine attention span,” Prince Dominique cut in. I should have kept editorial statements out of my story obviously, they attracted his attention.

“Well of course they attracted my attention,” Prince Dominique complained. “You insulted me. I wouldn’t get bored if you’d actually write interesting things. Your readers should be grateful to me for sparing them a two page long travel narrative.”

“If my readers had any class, they would have appreciated the attention to detail I had when I created your world, do you have any idea how much work your making me waste? Anyway, I told you to keep quiet, or else I’ll end the story with the bear eating you.”

“There’s a way to make your readers happy. I know you don’t care about me, but you’re writing this for an audience here. You can’t go killing me off for no reason when your readers have been following this far expecting something to happen. Now do your job and make everyone happy.”

“Have you read the more recent book of the month books? None of them have been happy, let me tell you. I could just say I was following in the fine tradition of the classics. I don’t have the time to argue with you, and I’m skipping ahead anyway, no matter what the reason is, so you should be happy.”

The forest was dark, and cool, and Prince Dominique almost forgot why he was there and started to relax. The hunting dogs that had at first bayed at every scent, soon calmed as well, which led the men to forget their mission all the easier. When the dogs had been tense they had been reminded that somewhere there was a giant bear that might attack them at any time. Alexis killed a deer that ran across their path and so they were able to feed themselves and the dogs that night, without breaking into their provisions. It would have been better for them had they considered what the smell of fresh meat might attract, but they fell asleep completely at peace.

Prince Dominique woke up to hear the sounds of something eating. At first he thought it was just one of the dogs that was getting at the meat, but then he remembered that they had tied the meat up from the lowest branch of a tree in their camp. There was no way that one of the dogs would be able to get to it. He sat up and could see in the light of the dying coals, a huge black shape that towered over him on its hind legs. The meat was low enough that the creature could rip off chunks of it with its teeth while standing. Prince Dominique was afraid to move, he hadn’t thought to sleep with a weapon and right now he liked it better if, what he suspected was the bear, kept ignoring him.

To be continued...

Not a Fairy Tale IV

“Prince Dominique, how rare your visit is,” she said. Princess Monique was sitting on a throne on a platform while Prince Dominique was forced to stand awkwardly, Alexis bowing next to him. They were not asked closer to the throne for a private conversation, nor were they offered the chance to make themselves comfortable.

“I come all of this way simply to see you, my dear cousin,” replied Prince Dominique, managing to keep his temper and remembering the courtly manners that had been drilled into his head from birth.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to beg for money because I don’t give out charity. Not even to a pauper’s province like yours,” said Princess Monique coldly.

“I did not come here to beg you for charity,” Prince Dominique said, blushing from shame and anger. He was about to turn on his heel and storm out of the audience chamber when Alexis spoke up.

“Your highness does my master great injustice; he came all this way to offer you his assistance. Knowing his place as your relative, and a child compared to your venerable age, he came to see if he couldn’t do even the smallest service for you.” Well like I said, Alexis was a toady, and a good one, because it worked.

“Well if you really have decided to show your good breeding at last,” said Princess Monique, relenting slightly, “there is something you could do.”

“At your service, my dear cousin,” Prince Dominique answered, swallowing his pride and thinking about the wedding that he wanted. Even if the princess wasn’t of good standing, the prince did find that he really did like her, and he wanted to show her that she was stepping up in the world. An arranged marriage could be made to work, he had seen that in his parents, but he knew that it had to start on a foundation of mutual respect. Since he and the princess hardly knew one another, the wedding seemed an important step in this process.

“And now you’re almost shining me in a good light, wonders will never cease,” commented the prince, breaking from the story again.

“Well, you are the main character of my story; I wouldn’t write about you if you didn’t have any redeemable traits,” I pointed out. “Though I might change my mind about them if you keep interrupting the story, keep to what I tell you to say.” I guess he got the hint, because I was able to continue with the story. Now, finally, the princess motioned Prince Dominique and Alexis forward so they could speak in private.

“My dear son, Prince Edmond, was injured on a hunt a week ago. It seems that a bear, grown large and mean with age, has decided that it no longer frightened of humans and their weapons. The people expect the prince to avenge his injury once he is better, and that will only be a few more weeks, we cannot put it off forever. We also can’t avoid it because the people will call him a coward; they expect a strong man in a future king. If you really wish to help us, go out and slay this bear before Eddy gets well again. You’re big and strong, I am afraid that my Eddy is a rather weak boy; he isn’t a country farmer like you. Slaying a bear isn’t the task for a gentleman of sensitive sensibilities like Eddy. I might find my way to giving you a wedding present if you do it.” The amount of condescension in this speech, and the barely veiled insults, made Prince Dominique grow red again. He was just grateful that no one could hear them, or the fact that he lacked the pride to show insult. Instead he bowed low to his cousin, and fled the audience chamber, with Alexis desperately trying to salve his wounded pride before they were even out of the door.

To be continued...

Not a Fairy Tale III

“Not if you do it well,” I said. I decided that maybe cajoling him would be better than trying to force him. Also it made him less likely to defame me if he agreed to where I was going with the story. “If you do it well, you’ll be a hero. Maybe it will even make the neighboring nobles take notice you. If you do well the king might even start paying attention to what you’re doing.” The nice thing about arguing with one of my characters was that I knew all of his weak points; it made him easy to convince. Though he acted reluctant about the whole thing, I knew that he was mostly putting on an act after I used that logic. So I was finally able to start telling the story, beginning with the day that Prince Dominique started on his black charger.

The prince, being a prince, had been well provisioned with supplies for his journey. He had a sword made by a credited smith, who had agreed to take credit. He had a lance that had been left in the armory since his father’s day, as well as his father’s armor, which luckily fit him well. He had only whined slightly about being given second hand weapons, indeed after I promised him that this might be his path to recognition and fame, he became much easier to deal with. Look, he even let that comment slide. Of course I will be making some concessions in my writing to appease him too, while he is being so cooperative, I feel I should be as well.

Anyway, the prince was also granted a companion who was to work as his servant as well as his friend, Alexis. If the prince was of a low standing, then this man was of the lowest level of nobility in the kingdom, but it was still a pleasing arrangement for both of them. To serve a prince was a position of honor, even if he was a lower prince, and Alexis basked in the fact that he had been chosen. Prince Dominique wouldn’t have been as happy with a regular servant at his side, not only because all nobles were taught to fight unlike servants, but also because he could talk to Alexis as almost an equal.

The nearby area was ruled by another prince, but the two provinces were completely different. The neighboring area was ruled by Princess Monique, who looked down her nose at her small and poor neighbor. They were cousins, but this was a fact that was generally ignored by Princess Monique, a pinch faced old woman who clutched greedily at her power. She had a grown son, who she spoiled to the point where everyone in the kingdom doubted his ability to rule someday. Despite the fact that he was already in his mid thirties, he still had no training in affairs of state.

“Finally, you’re ripping into someone other then me,” Prince Dominique interrupted me again.

“I do find that you are somewhat harsh on our beloved rulers. Their highnesses work at a higher level than we understand,” Alexis chimed in. I realize now that I forgot to mention before, another reason why Prince Dominique liked him as a companion was because he was a toady.

“I created them; I’m pretty sure I understand exactly the level that their highnesses work on. Now everyone shut up and let me write the rest of this story,” I said. They didn’t say anything thing else, I guess they got the hint, so I was finally able to get them across the border of Princess Monique’s province.

Simply the fact that it took more than a day to ride to the capital from the border of the province was enough to make Prince Dominique jealous. Once they actually reached the capital insult was added to injury, with the Princess not granting them instant audience. Instead they were forced to stay idle in the castle for several days before they were finally called to wait on her.

To be continued...

Not a Fairy Tale II

The reason that court was being held was to discuss the impending marriage, not how it would be celebrated, but rather how they could afford a ceremony that would be befitting of even a minor prince. It was a humiliating discussion for all of them. It was made worse by the fact that they knew that they couldn’t tax the population any more than they were already. Well in any case the ministers of the court knew that, it was their job to convince the prince of this, who had a rather large sense of self entitlement.

“This has gone all together too far,” the prince interrupted me again. “This isn’t honesty anymore, it’s abuse. Might I add that it’s also a very immature way of showing your displeasure with me?”

“I’m just describing what I see,” I snapped back. “It’s all in the eye of the beholder right? What I see is a selfish brat, who is making his ministers lives far more difficult than they have to be because of unreasonable and unrealistic demands. Admit it,” I added nastily, “how many neighboring nobles do you even think will attend your marriage. I bet they don’t even answer the invites. Actually, as the author, I think I’ll go write that part right now. I’ll get to this scene later.”

“If you want to start that, go right ahead, but I have a sheet of paper and pen right here. I am fully prepared to send a letter to the newspaper about how you’re going to have a baby, father unknown. I’ll even enclose a picture they can use, after some heavy photo editing of course. You make up stuff about my love life, and I’ll make up stuff about yours.”

“Are you really going to be like this through the whole story?” I asked. I was seriously considering simply not continuing with it. Temperamental stars were one thing, I could deal with them, but this glowing teenager was threatening my good name.

“Look, if this part is really that hard for you to write without slandering me, skip it. Just tell the reader that the meeting decided I would become the hired help for the neighboring kingdoms for a while to pay for my own wedding. Ungrateful, disloyal, advisors, they have no respect for me at all.”

“You aren’t going to be the hired help,” I argued. “You’ll be doing knightly deeds and such, perfectly respectable, almost expected of a prince. Slay some monsters, save a couple of girls too stupid to run or fight on their own, and coincidently get rewarded with some cash.”

“You don’t really have a children’s book of fairy tales that you read, do you? That sounds like the sort of stupid rationalizing that someone who read that stuff would give. Get real, princes rule, it’s what we do, that’s the whole job. Leave the rescuing of stupid chicks and killing things to peasants with unusual strength and nobility, or the third sons of merchants, who tend to get lucky for some reason. People who already have kingdoms and princess promised to them, don’t risk their necks. Do you have any idea how demeaning this is for me?”

“Well that’s just something that you’re going to have to deal with because it’s a major plot point, and besides, can you argue with the fact that you need the money?”

“I shouldn’t have to work for it though. This is going to make me the laughing stock of the entire area.”

To be continued...

Not a Fairy Tale

Finally writing something I am willing to share again, my stuff for a while has been really bad. This is a challenge from a friend, write a story of any length but it has to have a prince and a princess, and the characters at some point have to talk to the author.

The prince, Dominique sat regally on his throne, holding his court. The area that he ruled was a small one, but it was wealthy and visually breathtaking. His family had been ruling it for generations, and the king had seen fit to leave it in their care, no matter the politics of the time. The prince was a young man, wearing fine clothing, and looking well groomed. His prospects were good, as young as he was; he was already betrothed to a princess who was well known to be the vision of loveliness. It was at this point that the prince interrupted me.

“Glossing over a lot of details there, and the details you are including don’t seem to have a lot of connection to what is actually going on. Creative license is one thing, but let’s give honesty a chance here. You’re writing like we’re in a fairy story.”

“There’s nothing wrong with writing a fairy tale every once in a while,” I protested, indignant.

“If you’re going to write a fairy tale then leave me out of it,” Prince Dominique ordered me. “If you haven’t noticed I’m not much of a fairy tale person. If you want a white horse go somewhere else, I’m personally a fan of black.”

“If I decide to write that you have a white horse, that’s my business. I’m the author here, I’m the one in charge,” I said, crossing my arms. It certainly wasn’t the first time I’ve argued with one of my characters.

“If you keep writing like this, I’ll tell everyone that you still have a children’s book of fairy tales on your bookshelf that you read before bed,” threatened the prince. “I mean if you’re going to turn my life into fiction for the world, then I’ll do the same with your life.” I conceded defeat. “Good, then correct the fabrications you made in that first paragraph,” the prince said, looking smug with victory.

Alright, so the prince didn’t really sit regally, he sort of had himself draped across the throne, with his legs dangling over the armrest. He was just the right age of young adulthood to think of rebellion as the best type of self expression, an unfortunate thing in a ruler. Admittedly the area that Prince Dominique ruled over was a very small area, which while scenic, had nothing it that would ever make anyone interested in it. It was a well known fact that the king didn’t even really realize they existed most of the time, which was the main reason that the prince’s family had been allowed to rule it for so long. When ever the prince had ventured to court he was so mocked, even by the lower nobles, and the king had to be reminded of where his principalia even was, so he had stopped going. This state of affairs did not help the prince’s teenage angst in the slightest. The prince would have been handsome, except for his tacky love of black velvet, which made him look like he had raided the wardrobe of a Shakespearean villain. His all black clothing did not suite him, and he looked perpetually so washed out that he could have been a ghost. Prince Dominique was promised in marriage to a princess, but she was only a princess in name, her family had lost their land several generations before, and the family had sunk even lower since that time. The princess was pretty enough, but because of her lack of dowry, her only other suitor had been a merchant. It only succeeded in rubbing the face of the prince how low he was ranked.

“It’s hardly complimentary is it?” the prince demanded, interrupting me again.

“You said that you wanted me to be honest, I’m being honest, deal with it,” I answered. Prince Dominique could hardly disagree, so I was finally able to continue with the story.

To be continued...