Yo! First fanfic, don't know if i'm doing this right.
Princess Bride, of course...
So, as always, I do not own the princess bride. Dear S. Morgenstern does. If i did, buttercup's baby would have been published a long time ago and there would be a reunion scene... and more kissing... XD
I stepped quickly over the corpse, then roughly ripped the blindfold from Buttercup's eyes.
"I heard everything that happ-" Buttercup began, and then she said "Oh" because she had never been next to a dead man before.
"You killed him," she whispered finally.
"I let him die laughing," I said. "Pray I do as much for you." I lifted her, slashed her bonds away, put her on her feet, and started to pull her along.
"Please," Buttercup said. "Give me a moment to gather myself." I released my grip.
"As you wish" I mumbled, too soft for her to hear.
Buttercup rubbed her wrists, stopped, massaged her ankles. She took a final look at the Sicilian.
"To think," she murmured, "all that time it was your cup that was poisoned."
"They were both poisoned," I said. "I've spent the past two years building up immunity to iocane powder."
Buttercup looked up at me. The look in her eyes was of pure terror.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice laced with fear.
"I am no one to be trifled with," I replied. "That is all you ever need to know." And with that I yanked her upright.
"You've had your moment." Again I pulled her after me, half dragging her. I just had to get her away, before her precious prince came after us. How could she? Does she even love me? Was this some sort of joke to her? Playing with my emotions?
We moved along the mountain path. The moonlight was very bright, and there were rocks everywhere.
"I will pay you a great deal of money to release me," she gasped. I glanced back at her.
"You are rich, then?" I laughed. Is money all she cares about now?
"I will be," Buttercup said. "Whatever you want for ransom, I promise I'll get it for you if you'll let me go."
I just laughed. She promised to love only me until the day she died, like that ever happened.
"I was not speaking in jest."
"You promise? You? I should release you on your promise? What is that worth? The vow of a woman? Oh, that is very funny, Highness. Spoken in jest or not." We proceeded along the mountain path to an open space. I started running again, into wild terrain, pulling her behind me.
She stumbled; I pulled her to her feet; again she fell; again I righted her.
"I cannot move this quickly."
"You can! And you will! Or you will suffer greatly. Do you think I could make you suffer greatly?" Buttercup nodded.
"Then run!" I cried, flying across rocks in the moonlight, pulling the Princess behind me.
She did her best to keep up. She was frightened as to what I would do to her, so she dared not fall again. After five minutes, I stopped dead. I could tell she was about to faint.
"Catch your breath," I commanded.
Buttercup nodded, gasped in air, tried to quiet her heart. She sat there for a minuet. I stared at her behind my mask. How can someone so beautiful and perfect be so heartless? I don't care; I still can't help but love her. I have to save her from Humperdinck. With no warning I pulled her across the mountainous terrain, heading to great eel bay, and the Revenge.
"Where . . . do you take me?" she gasped, when I again gave her a chance to rest.
"Surely even someone as arrogant as you cannot expect me to give an answer." What has happened to my Buttercup? Why is she marrying that sorry excuse for a prince?
"It does not matter if you tell or not. He will find you."
" 'He,' Highness?" Since when had she become highness? She was always my Buttercup, but now…
"Prince Humperdinck. There is no greater hunter. He can track a falcon on a cloudy day; he can find you." Do you think so little of me?
"You have confidence that your dearest love will save you, do you?" I snapped.
"I never said he was my dearest love, and yes, he will save me; that I know." She doesn't love him? Or is that just another lie?
"You admit you do not love your husband-to-be? Fancy. An honest woman. You're a rare specimen, Highness." I said sarcastically.
"The Prince and I have never from the beginning lied to each other. He knows I do not love him."
"Are not capable of love is what you mean." Just breaking hearts.
"I'm very capable of love," Buttercup said.
"Hold your tongue…I think."
"I have loved more deeply than a killer like you can possibly imagine."
I slapped her. Just more lies. She never loved me.
"That is the penalty for lying, Highness. Where I come from, when a woman lies, she is reprimanded."
"But I spoke the truth, I did, I-" Buttercup saw my hand rise a second time, so she stopped quickly, fell dead silent.
We began to run again. I wonder if I can ever tell her who I am, or is it best for me just to return her to that idiot Humperdinck.
We did not speak for hours. We just ran, and then, when she was spent, I would always let her rest. She would try to catch her breath for the next dash. Without a sound, I would grab her and off we would go. I tried not to think, just to get her to the Revenge.
It was close to dawn when I first saw the Armada.
We were running along the edge of a towering ravine. We seemed almost to be at the top of the world, but I couldn't tell if it was the bottom. When we stopped, Buttercup sank down to rest. I stood silently over her.
"Your love comes, not alone," I said then.
Buttercup did not understand. She was never very smart, but I loved her for that too.
I pointed back the way we had come.
Buttercup stared, and as she did, the waters of Florin Channel seemed as filled with light as the sky was filled with stars.
"He must have ordered every ship in Florin after you," I said. "Such a sight I have never seen." I stared at all the lanterns on all the ships as they moved.
"You can never escape him," Buttercup said. "If you release me, I promise that you will come to no harm." I don't care if I get harmed. I'll find a way to free you, to take you to America like I said.
"You are much too generous; I could never accept such an offer."
"I offered you your life, that was generous enough."
"Highness!" I said, and my hands were suddenly at her throat. "If there is talk of life to be done, let me do it."
"You would not kill me. You did not steal me from murderers to murder me yourself."
"Wise as well as loving," I said. I jerked her to her feet, and we ran along the edge of the great ravine. It was hundreds of feet deep, and filled with rocks and trees and lifting shadows. Abruptly, I stopped, stared back at the Armada.
"To be honest," I said, "I had not expected quite so many."
"You can never predict my Prince; that is why he is the greatest hunter." Maybe you do love him, you certainly complement him enough.
"I wonder," I sighed, "will he stay in one group or will he divide, some to search the coastline, some to follow your path on land? What do you think?"
"I only know he will find me. And if you have not given me my freedom first, he will not treat you gently."
"Surely he must have discussed things with you? The thrill of the hunt. What has he done in the past with many ships?"
"We do not discuss hunting, that I can assure you."
"Not hunting, not love, what do you talk about?" I wondered. How close were they? Has he broken apart our love forever?
"We do not see all that much of each other."
"We are always very honest with each other. Not everyone can say as much." You were never honest with me. Did you even tell me the truth once?
"May I please tell you something, Highness? You're very cold"
"very cold and very young, and if you live, I think you'll turn to hoarfrost" I said before I could stop myself.
"Why do you pick at me? I have come to terms with my life, and that is my affair. I am not cold, I swear, but I have decided certain things, it is best for me to ignore emotion; I have not been happy dealing with
it. I loved once," Buttercup said after a moment. "It worked out badly."
"Another rich man? Yes, and he left you for a richer woman." I almost yelled.
"No. Poor. Poor and it killed him." I froze. Was there a chance she loved me? No… I can't get my hopes up like this.
"Were you sorry? Did you feel pain? Admit that you felt nothing" If she really cared she wouldn't have gotten engaged to that poor excuse of a man.
"Do not mock my grief! I died that day." I stared at her. The tone of her voice was dead serious.
The Armada began to fire signal cannons. The explosions echoed through the mountains. I stared at them, at anyplace except her eyes, her eyes filled with tears… for me.
And while I was watching the ships, Buttercup shoved me with all her strength remaining.
For a moment, I teetered at the ravine edge. My arms spun like windmills fighting for balance. They swung and gripped the air and then I began his slide.
Down I went.
Stumbling and torn and reaching out to stop my descent, but the ravine was too steep, and nothing could be done.
Rolling over rocks, spinning, out of all control.
Buttercup stared down at me. Finally I rested far below her, silent and without motion.
"You can die too for all I care," she yelled, and then she turned away.
I couldn't let her walk away. "As . . . you . . . wish . . ." I said slowly.
Buttercup turned back to me and stared down as, in first light, I struggled to remove my mask.
"Oh, my sweet Westley," Buttercup said. "What have I done to you now?"
I tried to respond, but the mask was covering my mouth as I pulled it off.
Down she came after me, keeping her feet as best she could.
"Buttercup! Whatever you do, stay up there! Don't come down here! Please!" I yelled. I couldn't drag her up to the top with me. She couldn't hear me because the thunder of walls crumbling was too loud.
Besides, her balance quickly was gone and the ravine had her. She fell fast and she fell hard.
Tossed and spinning, crashing, torn, out of all control, she rolled and twisted and plunged, cart wheeling toward me. . . .
Amazing, looks like she loves me after all…
I fell down, sprawling across the rocky bottom of the ravine. I sat up quickly, but my Westley already had his arms wrapped around me.
"You're alive! I thought you were dead!" I cried, tears streaming down my face. "What have I done to you? I didn't mean to get engaged!"
"Buttercup, do you love him?" he asked, staring at me.
"No! I could never love him! Whatever gave you that idea?" I asked, surprised. I was cut off by his lips, soft and warm against my own. He pulled away slowly, staring down at me. His face was tear stained.
"Darling Westley, sweet perfect Westley, how could you ever think I was in love with him? Did I not tell you I would love only you, until the day I died?" I cried, pulling him close to me again. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to get married, honestly!"
"I forgive you, love." He said then, pressing his lips to mine once more.
We stayed that way, him holding me, tightly, as if I would disappear at any moment.
"You still… love me?" he asked again, his eyes pleading.
"Westley… how could I ever not? How could I ever escape your stormy eyes that take my breath away every time I look into the. How could I ever forget the feeling of your perfect lips against mine? What sort of human would I be if I can't remember the feel of your god-like body pressed against me?" His lips cut me off, gently touching mine, letting all his love flow through that connection.
"When I left you," he whispered, "you were already more beautiful than anything I dared to dream. In our years apart, my imaginings did their best to improve on your perfection. At night, your face was forever behind my eyes. And now I see that that vision who kept me company in my loneliness was a hag compared to the beauty now before me."
"Enough about my beauty," I said. "Everybody always talks about how beautiful I am. I've got a mind, Westley. Talk about that."
"Throughout eternity I shall do that very thing," my Westley told me. "But now we haven't time." He made it to his feet. The ravine fall had shaken and battered him, but all his bones survived the trip uncracked. He helped her to her feet.
"Westley?" Buttercup said then. "Just before I started down after you, while I was still up there, I could hear you saying something but the words were indistinct."
"I've forgotten whatever it was."
He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. "It's not important, believe me; the past has a way of being past." "We must not begin with secrets from each other." She meant it.
He could tell that. "Trust me," he tried.
"I do. So tell me your words or I shall be given reason not to."
Westley sighed. "What I was trying to get through to you, beloved sweet; what I was, as a matter of accurate fact, shouting with everything I had left, was: 'Whatever you do, stay up there! Don't come down here! Please!'"
"You didn't want to see me."
"Of course I wanted to see you. I just didn't want to see you down here." "Why ever not?"
"Because now, my precious, we're more or less kind of trapped. I can't climb out of here and bring you with me without it taking all day. I can get out myself, most likely, without it taking all day, but with the addition of your lovely bulk, it's not about to happen."
"Nonsense; you climbed the Cliffs of Insanity, and this isn't nearly that steep."
"And it took a little out of me too, let me tell you. And after that little effort, I tangled with a fella who knew a little something about fencing. And after that, I spent a few happy moments grappling with a giant. And after that, I had to outfake a Sicilian to death when any mistake meant it was a knife in the throat for you. And after that I've run my lungs out a couple of hours. And after that I was pushed two hundred feet down a rock ravine. I'm tired, Buttercup; do you understand tired? I've put in a night, is what I'm trying to get through to you."
"I'm not stupid, you know."
"Stop being rude."
"When was the last time you read a book? The truth now. And picture books don't countI mean something with print in it."
Buttercup walked away from him. "There're other things to read than print," she said, "and the Princess of Hammersmith is displeased with you and is thinking seriously of going home." With no more words, she whirled into his arms then, saying, "Oh, Westley, I didn't mean that, I didn't, I didn't, not a single syllabub of it."
Now Westley knew that she meant to say "not a single syllable of it," because a syllabub was something you ate, with cream and wine mixed in together to form the base. But he also knew an apology when he heard one. So he held her very close, and shut his loving eyes, and only whispered, "I knew it was false, believe me, every single syllabub."
And that out of the way, they started running as fast as they could along the flat-rock floor of the ravine.
So, write a review! You know you want to...
Westley would... (pout)
Westley: You called my lady?
WestlyHitachiin: WESTLEY! YOU REALLY CAME!
Westley: How could i not? I am yours forever...
WestlyHitachiin: Say it again!
Westly: As you wish... but only if you get reviews..
WestlyHitachiin: REVIEW OR I DON"T GET WESTLEY!