Author: TheAmericanWeasley PM
Disney's classic fairy tale, retold iCarly style. Sam Puckett is a beautiful but headstrong princess, subject to the jealousy of her wicked step-mother, Francine Briggs. When jealousy leads to death, will the kiss of a certain tech nerd save the day? The first story in my iDisney Princess Story Collection.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Fantasy - Sam P. & Freddie B. - Chapters: 8 - Words: 8,987 - Reviews: 9 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 3 - Published: 12-04-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7610642
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly or anything related to it, nor do I own the plot of Walt Disney's Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (or any elements from the original Brothers Grimm fairy tale). This story is purely for non-profit entertainment.
an iCarly fairy tale
Once upon a time . . .
Pam Puckett glanced out of the window she sat before, her mind too lost in thought to continue her sewing. She was, in every sense of the word, a blessed woman: gone from living as a peasant to falling in love and marrying King Jeremy, resulting in her becoming a Queen. Pam had everything she could ever dream of: a loving husband, servants eager to wait on her hands and feet, the finest dresses, and a commodious castle in which she resided in.
Everything her heart desired, with the exception of one thing. She had heard her friends and servants discuss of it often—and even though it sounded like it could occasionally be a pain in the rump, it made the heart whole: a child.
Just as the words crossed her mind, her needle missed the sewing fabric and pricked her finger instead. A few crimson drops fell from her skin and onto the snow that coated her sunshine-colored window frame. As the Queen watched the blood dissolve into the soft whiteness, she muttered to herself: "Dear Lord, how I wish I could have a little princess with lips red as blood, hair of sunshine, and skin as white as snow." And a single melancholy tear fell from her eye.
. . .
It was not long after that Queen Pam gave birth to not one child, but two: a pair of beautiful twin princesses. She howled, for the pain of childbirth was not subsiding, even after the children had left her body.
King Jeremy returned to the Queen's bed a few moments later, his aging face lined with sadness.
"Jeremy," Pam choked through the pain, "What's wrong?"
"One of our daughters . . . has died."
It was almost immediately that the tears began to flow from both faces, the sadness overtaking any happy emotion left in them.
"The other one," Pam spoke softly. "Is she . . .?"
"The second princess is fine. Would you like to see her?"
"Yes!" the Queen yelped.
Several minutes later, the King returned to the master bedroom with a small, warm bundle in his arms. He handed the baby girl to his wife, which she held gingerly in her weakening arms. The child stared with wide, curious eyes at her new parents. Pam cried with sudden joy, for the child looked exactly as she had prayed it would look: a small girl with a pale face, uncanny red lips, all curtained by cascading locks of blonde hair.
Pam couldn't be more elated, but as the pain continued to rip through her body, she knew her end was near. She would not shed another tear, though, because she had lived long enough to finally know the joy of having a child, even if it was for a very short time.
"Jeremy . . . I believe that my end is near."
"Do not say such things. You will be fine, just like our only daughter."
"I can already see the pearly gates before me. But do not cry for me; you must know that you have made me eternally happy, Jeremy, and that I hope our only daughter will know the same. Soon I will be with our other daughter, whom I hoped to name Melanie."
More tears ran down Jeremy's face as he spoke, "My dearest Pam, before you depart, what shall we name our daughter?"
Pam stroked the child's cheek, admiring her. "I have always wanted a daughter named Samantha. Princess Samantha Puckett, Sam for short."
"Then Sam it shall be."
After kissing her husband and her daughter goodbye, Pam Puckett fell into a sleep from which she would never wake up.
. . .
Ten years later, the King had found himself another wife: an immensely attractive but vain woman named Francine Briggs, who was with King Jeremy purely for the fame, riches, and the title of being Queen. It was much to her convenience that, only five years after marrying Jeremy, the King died. Some say it was old age or a rare disease, but most agreed that it was of a broken heart, for the King had never stopped loving his first wife.
Since Jeremy's death, Francine had made the castle entirely her own: abusing the servants, neglecting the people of her kingdom, selfishly starting wars with other kingdoms just for the sake of gaining more land, and, most importantly, making Princess Sam miserable. Francine had given Sam only a small tower of the castle in which to live, which she was rarely in because of her duties to tend to around the castle. The kingdom often gossiped that it was a sin to force a princess to work as a scullery maid, but not one person had the nerve to confront the Evil Queen about such matters. Francine's reason for making her step-daughter work as a scullery maid was obvious: she was afraid that Sam's beauty would one day surpass her own. But what girl could be beautiful when dressed in rags?
The only friend that Francine possessed was an enchanted mirror, which she kept hidden in a secret tower, just above the dungeons, away from any other eyes. Inside this dungeon she also kept a fair number of witchcraft books, pre-made potions, and other ingredients for her evil desires.
Every day Francine would visit her mirror and admire her own work. Without all of the magic lotions and spells she applied to her skin and body, she wouldn't look nearly as attractive as she did: being in her fifties, she had the face of a woman in her late twenties, curly ginger locks, and a curvaceous figure.
The mirror would answer any and all questions with the utmost truth; so, Francine would ask: "Magic Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?"
And as long as the mirror replied, "You, my Queen," Sam was safe from Francine's deadly jealousy. But for how long could rags hide a true beauty?