Lost Fic: "Briar, Briar, Bramble Bush" (Boone, PG)
Title: Briar, Briar, Bramble Bush
Characters: Boone, Shannon, implied Locke and Sayid
Rating: PG for some tongue in cheek
Length: 1,820 words
Notes: Just like last year, I couldn't possibly be expected to go the entire Luau without eventually bringing in my beloved fairy tales. For janie_tangerine, who wanted her some Boone. She also wanted some crossdressing which, well, this isn't that, although there is a little role reversal. You'll see what I mean.
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess whom disaster was supposed to befall, and a handsome prince, her brother, who had sworn to protect her.
A long time ago and in a place far away (or so the story goes), there was a wealthy kingdom of riches and prosperity, where lived a king, his wife the queen, and their two children, the young Prince Boone and the lovely Princess Shannon.
Now, the king and the queen were not parents to both of their children: the boy was the son of the queen, and the girl daughter to the king. But that did not matter, for they were both very small when their parents were wed, and as far as they were concerned they treated each other as true brother and sister.
Which is to say, they were often very cross and argued and couldn’t be counted upon to share, but every once in awhile they were persuaded to get along and play together quite nicely.
The king, also, was kind to both of his children. But the queen was often cold and distant to her stepdaughter.
“Mother,” asked Prince Boone of her one day, when he was still quite little, “why are you not very nice to Shannon? I’m sure you’d like her if only you tried.”
“Oh, it’s because of the curse, dear,” the Queen said, stifling a yawn.
A small frown creased the young prince’s forehead.
“The curse? Mother, what do you mean?”
“This castle is cursed,” the Queen explained. “You see, it is said that one day, a fair young thing will climb to the tallest tower, where they will promptly prick their finger on a spindle and fall into a deep sleep for a thousand years, or until somebody suitably heroic comes along and rescues them.”
She shrugged indifferently, sipping her goblet of wine. “So you see there is no real point in me getting to know your stepsister, for some day soon she will fall asleep, and never again wake in my lifetime.”
The young prince’s eyes nearly popped out of his head in horror.
“I don’t want that to happen to Shannon!” he said. “Why, I’m going to be her protector from now on, and make sure nothing bad ever happens to her. And even if she does prick her finger on a spindle, I’ll make sure I grow up to be strong and brave, so I can rescue her.”
His declaration made, the young prince proceeded to go and do just that.
Indeed, he spent the next couple of years becoming very bossy indeed, constantly hovering around the princess, trying to make sure her every need was met and keep her from doing anything that could cause her the slightest harm.
She shouldn’t go out walking, he said, because she could fall down and twist her ankle. She shouldn’t go to balls because she would tire herself out too much with revelry and dance. She shouldn’t go down by the cow pasture because she was certain to get trampled by cows. And of course she shouldn’t go out with strange men, and what did she need to go to market for, anyway, he could fetch her anything; well, if she was going to insist on it then she was going to have to wait a moment while he fetched her chaise, and certainly she couldn’t go by herself, she needed a chaperone, but he was more than happy to oblige.
On and on it went, until Princess Shannon was quite sick of him, and couldn’t even stand his sight.
He was a bit miffed by her ingratitude, but she just didn’t understand. Everything he did was only for her benefit.
In addition to “protecting” his sister, Prince Boone also dedicated much time to developing his noble and heroic qualities. He engaged in sword-fighting and horseback-riding lessons, going on hunts and tourneys and jousts. He tried his hand at writing epic poetry, although he had a very hard time finding words that rhymed. And he made sure to always dress himself with just the right amount of chivalric flair.
By the time he had grown to be a young man, he was certainly thought to be very athletic, handsome and dashing. The young noble ladies swooned over him, though he always politely put them off.
“No thanks,” he’d say. “You see, I’m saving myself for my sister.”
He never did quite understand the looks they always got on their faces after that.
Time passed, and eventually came the day of Princess Shannon’s sixteenth birthday. The princess was in another of her sulky tantrums, unable to keep herself amused.
“You shouldn’t throw such a fuss, Shannon, you might hurt yourself,” her brother told her sagely. “Here, why don’t we pass the time until your party with a nice, quiet sit-down game? We can play with ribbons or, here, how about this golden ball? Just don’t throw it too hard, mind.”
“Go away, Boone,” Shannon yelled, flopping onto the bed and hurling one of her downy pillows at him. “You’re driving me crazy! Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
Prince Boone decided to leave her until she calmed down a bit.
Of course, he was always protecting Shannon, even when he wasn’t by her side. He proceeded to make his usual rounds of the castle, inspecting it closely for anything that could cause the princess any pain.
After making a thorough search of the royal bedchambers, the stables, the grounds, the wardrobe, the kitchen, the dining hall, the ballroom, the library, the entrance hall and the privy, he at last approached his final stop: the tallest tower of the castle.
Gripping a lantern tight in one hand and the other resting on the hilt of his sword, the prince warily climbed the steps to the top of the tallest tower, keeping a watchful eye out for any sign of trouble.
He had just about decided there was nothing there (as usual) and was going to breathe a sigh of relief and turn around, when he heard…a noise.
A soft noise, a sound he couldn’t identify, coming from the room at the very top of the stairs.
Prince Boone stilled. “Who’s there?” he called.
There was no answer, so he kept going.
Slowly, cautiously, he crept his way up the rest of the stairs. He reached the doorway at the top, and threw it open, and peered within.
Inside, lit only by the faintest candlelight, crouched an old man with a scar running across one eye. The candle’s reflection gleamed off the bald curve of his head, as he bent forward doing something with his hands. There was a strange contraption he was working with, something with a large wooden wheel.
As Prince Boone stood there, looking on in curiosity, the old man looked up and saw him.
“Why, hello there.” He gave a mysterious, jovial smile.
“Old man,” the prince demanded, pointing with one finger, “what is that you are working with?”
“Oh, this?” The old man glanced carelessly back at the object. Thick brown wool was pulled swiftly through his fingers. “This is just an old spindle.”
“A spindle?” Prince Boone stared.
For, early in his days of manhood, he’d issued a royal decree that every spindle in the kingdom be burned and destroyed - but he himself had never actually laid eyes upon one.
“So,” the prince continued, “this is a spindle.” He stepped into the room, moving closer. “How curious.”
“I suppose it is, in a way,” the old man agreed, nodding, but Boone wasn’t listening to him. His eyes were caught upon the spindle, carefully taking it in. It was important he study this thing carefully, so he could learn to identify it and know how even better to protect his sister.
“Is that the point?” he said. “It looks very sharp.” He could easily see how Shannon was supposed to prick her finger upon it, careless and unconcerned for her own safety as she was.
“Oh,” the old man smiled again, and his eyes twinkled in the candlelight, “it is.”
Prince Boone stretched out a finger, just to test it, just a little. The spindle’s end gleamed in the flickers from the candle.
The young prince pricked his finger upon the edge of the spindle. And then, almost immediately, he gave a great yawn.
His eyes closed, lashes fluttering, and he promptly fell down and lay on the floor, sound asleep.
_____
“…you idiot!”
Prince Boone’s eyes opened groggily, stirred awake by the shrill sound of his stepsister’s voice. “Shannon?”
He looked up, puzzled. He lay on some sort of dais, in what looked like the room at the top of the tallest tower. The old man was gone. The spindle was gone. Instead, the room was filled with…
Prince Boone blinked, frowning. “What’s with all these thorny vines?”
“They sprung up almost the moment you fell asleep.” Shannon kicked the nearest, thickest vine impatiently. “It was a real pain. They grew all over the castle, and we had to temporarily move to our summer retreat instead.”
“Fell asleep?” Boone repeated, dumbfounded. “Wait. What is going on here?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” The princess sneered at him. “You pricked your finger on the stupid spindle, you big dumb moron. You fell asleep at the top of the tallest tower, and started the curse.”
She rolled her eyes, flipping her blond hair back over her shoulder. “But don’t worry. You’ve only been asleep for a couple months. You’re probably going to have to spend all summer indoors working on your studies, though, if you want to catch up. Your mother is pissed.”
“Wait…wait…” Prince Boone’s jaw dropped as he stared at her, flabbergasted. “I couldn’t have…me? But then how did…”
He trailed off as he finally noticed a muscular man with curly dark hair standing off to one side, politely not saying anything while he and Shannon argued.
“Who the heck is he?”
“Oh.” Shannon gave him a dismissive look, shrugging. “This is Sir Sayid, my boyfriend. I brought him along to help with the vines.”
Sir Sayid gave a nod. Boone gaped even more than he already had.
“B-boyfriend? But you can’t…!” he gasped. “Wait a minute. Wait just a minute. Are you actually trying to tell me that you rescued me?”
“Um, you’re welcome?” Princess Shannon replied, snottily. “That kiss was disgusting, by the way. Your breath was totally gross.” She gagged.
“But the curse is supposed to happen to a damsel in distress,” the poor bewildered prince protested.
Shannon smirked at him.
“Well, I guess you were in distress then,” her gaze narrowed mockingly, “damsel.”
Behind her shoulder, Sir Sayid failed to completely cover his laugh.
“I am not a damsel! This isn’t the way it was supposed to happen…the princess is supposed to get saved by the prince!”
“Oh come on, Boone,” Shannon snapped, rolling her eyes again as she grabbed his sleeve and dragged him impatiently off the dais. “Grow up!”
And they all lived happily ever after. Or, well, something.
Characters: Boone, Shannon, implied Locke and Sayid
Rating: PG for some tongue in cheek
Length: 1,820 words
Notes: Just like last year, I couldn't possibly be expected to go the entire Luau without eventually bringing in my beloved fairy tales. For janie_tangerine, who wanted her some Boone. She also wanted some crossdressing which, well, this isn't that, although there is a little role reversal. You'll see what I mean.
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess whom disaster was supposed to befall, and a handsome prince, her brother, who had sworn to protect her.
A long time ago and in a place far away (or so the story goes), there was a wealthy kingdom of riches and prosperity, where lived a king, his wife the queen, and their two children, the young Prince Boone and the lovely Princess Shannon.
Now, the king and the queen were not parents to both of their children: the boy was the son of the queen, and the girl daughter to the king. But that did not matter, for they were both very small when their parents were wed, and as far as they were concerned they treated each other as true brother and sister.
Which is to say, they were often very cross and argued and couldn’t be counted upon to share, but every once in awhile they were persuaded to get along and play together quite nicely.
The king, also, was kind to both of his children. But the queen was often cold and distant to her stepdaughter.
“Mother,” asked Prince Boone of her one day, when he was still quite little, “why are you not very nice to Shannon? I’m sure you’d like her if only you tried.”
“Oh, it’s because of the curse, dear,” the Queen said, stifling a yawn.
A small frown creased the young prince’s forehead.
“The curse? Mother, what do you mean?”
“This castle is cursed,” the Queen explained. “You see, it is said that one day, a fair young thing will climb to the tallest tower, where they will promptly prick their finger on a spindle and fall into a deep sleep for a thousand years, or until somebody suitably heroic comes along and rescues them.”
She shrugged indifferently, sipping her goblet of wine. “So you see there is no real point in me getting to know your stepsister, for some day soon she will fall asleep, and never again wake in my lifetime.”
The young prince’s eyes nearly popped out of his head in horror.
“I don’t want that to happen to Shannon!” he said. “Why, I’m going to be her protector from now on, and make sure nothing bad ever happens to her. And even if she does prick her finger on a spindle, I’ll make sure I grow up to be strong and brave, so I can rescue her.”
His declaration made, the young prince proceeded to go and do just that.
Indeed, he spent the next couple of years becoming very bossy indeed, constantly hovering around the princess, trying to make sure her every need was met and keep her from doing anything that could cause her the slightest harm.
She shouldn’t go out walking, he said, because she could fall down and twist her ankle. She shouldn’t go to balls because she would tire herself out too much with revelry and dance. She shouldn’t go down by the cow pasture because she was certain to get trampled by cows. And of course she shouldn’t go out with strange men, and what did she need to go to market for, anyway, he could fetch her anything; well, if she was going to insist on it then she was going to have to wait a moment while he fetched her chaise, and certainly she couldn’t go by herself, she needed a chaperone, but he was more than happy to oblige.
On and on it went, until Princess Shannon was quite sick of him, and couldn’t even stand his sight.
He was a bit miffed by her ingratitude, but she just didn’t understand. Everything he did was only for her benefit.
In addition to “protecting” his sister, Prince Boone also dedicated much time to developing his noble and heroic qualities. He engaged in sword-fighting and horseback-riding lessons, going on hunts and tourneys and jousts. He tried his hand at writing epic poetry, although he had a very hard time finding words that rhymed. And he made sure to always dress himself with just the right amount of chivalric flair.
By the time he had grown to be a young man, he was certainly thought to be very athletic, handsome and dashing. The young noble ladies swooned over him, though he always politely put them off.
“No thanks,” he’d say. “You see, I’m saving myself for my sister.”
He never did quite understand the looks they always got on their faces after that.
Time passed, and eventually came the day of Princess Shannon’s sixteenth birthday. The princess was in another of her sulky tantrums, unable to keep herself amused.
“You shouldn’t throw such a fuss, Shannon, you might hurt yourself,” her brother told her sagely. “Here, why don’t we pass the time until your party with a nice, quiet sit-down game? We can play with ribbons or, here, how about this golden ball? Just don’t throw it too hard, mind.”
“Go away, Boone,” Shannon yelled, flopping onto the bed and hurling one of her downy pillows at him. “You’re driving me crazy! Why don’t you just leave me alone?”
Prince Boone decided to leave her until she calmed down a bit.
Of course, he was always protecting Shannon, even when he wasn’t by her side. He proceeded to make his usual rounds of the castle, inspecting it closely for anything that could cause the princess any pain.
After making a thorough search of the royal bedchambers, the stables, the grounds, the wardrobe, the kitchen, the dining hall, the ballroom, the library, the entrance hall and the privy, he at last approached his final stop: the tallest tower of the castle.
Gripping a lantern tight in one hand and the other resting on the hilt of his sword, the prince warily climbed the steps to the top of the tallest tower, keeping a watchful eye out for any sign of trouble.
He had just about decided there was nothing there (as usual) and was going to breathe a sigh of relief and turn around, when he heard…a noise.
A soft noise, a sound he couldn’t identify, coming from the room at the very top of the stairs.
Prince Boone stilled. “Who’s there?” he called.
There was no answer, so he kept going.
Slowly, cautiously, he crept his way up the rest of the stairs. He reached the doorway at the top, and threw it open, and peered within.
Inside, lit only by the faintest candlelight, crouched an old man with a scar running across one eye. The candle’s reflection gleamed off the bald curve of his head, as he bent forward doing something with his hands. There was a strange contraption he was working with, something with a large wooden wheel.
As Prince Boone stood there, looking on in curiosity, the old man looked up and saw him.
“Why, hello there.” He gave a mysterious, jovial smile.
“Old man,” the prince demanded, pointing with one finger, “what is that you are working with?”
“Oh, this?” The old man glanced carelessly back at the object. Thick brown wool was pulled swiftly through his fingers. “This is just an old spindle.”
“A spindle?” Prince Boone stared.
For, early in his days of manhood, he’d issued a royal decree that every spindle in the kingdom be burned and destroyed - but he himself had never actually laid eyes upon one.
“So,” the prince continued, “this is a spindle.” He stepped into the room, moving closer. “How curious.”
“I suppose it is, in a way,” the old man agreed, nodding, but Boone wasn’t listening to him. His eyes were caught upon the spindle, carefully taking it in. It was important he study this thing carefully, so he could learn to identify it and know how even better to protect his sister.
“Is that the point?” he said. “It looks very sharp.” He could easily see how Shannon was supposed to prick her finger upon it, careless and unconcerned for her own safety as she was.
“Oh,” the old man smiled again, and his eyes twinkled in the candlelight, “it is.”
Prince Boone stretched out a finger, just to test it, just a little. The spindle’s end gleamed in the flickers from the candle.
The young prince pricked his finger upon the edge of the spindle. And then, almost immediately, he gave a great yawn.
His eyes closed, lashes fluttering, and he promptly fell down and lay on the floor, sound asleep.
_____
“…you idiot!”
Prince Boone’s eyes opened groggily, stirred awake by the shrill sound of his stepsister’s voice. “Shannon?”
He looked up, puzzled. He lay on some sort of dais, in what looked like the room at the top of the tallest tower. The old man was gone. The spindle was gone. Instead, the room was filled with…
Prince Boone blinked, frowning. “What’s with all these thorny vines?”
“They sprung up almost the moment you fell asleep.” Shannon kicked the nearest, thickest vine impatiently. “It was a real pain. They grew all over the castle, and we had to temporarily move to our summer retreat instead.”
“Fell asleep?” Boone repeated, dumbfounded. “Wait. What is going on here?”
“Haven’t you figured it out yet?” The princess sneered at him. “You pricked your finger on the stupid spindle, you big dumb moron. You fell asleep at the top of the tallest tower, and started the curse.”
She rolled her eyes, flipping her blond hair back over her shoulder. “But don’t worry. You’ve only been asleep for a couple months. You’re probably going to have to spend all summer indoors working on your studies, though, if you want to catch up. Your mother is pissed.”
“Wait…wait…” Prince Boone’s jaw dropped as he stared at her, flabbergasted. “I couldn’t have…me? But then how did…”
He trailed off as he finally noticed a muscular man with curly dark hair standing off to one side, politely not saying anything while he and Shannon argued.
“Who the heck is he?”
“Oh.” Shannon gave him a dismissive look, shrugging. “This is Sir Sayid, my boyfriend. I brought him along to help with the vines.”
Sir Sayid gave a nod. Boone gaped even more than he already had.
“B-boyfriend? But you can’t…!” he gasped. “Wait a minute. Wait just a minute. Are you actually trying to tell me that you rescued me?”
“Um, you’re welcome?” Princess Shannon replied, snottily. “That kiss was disgusting, by the way. Your breath was totally gross.” She gagged.
“But the curse is supposed to happen to a damsel in distress,” the poor bewildered prince protested.
Shannon smirked at him.
“Well, I guess you were in distress then,” her gaze narrowed mockingly, “damsel.”
Behind her shoulder, Sir Sayid failed to completely cover his laugh.
“I am not a damsel! This isn’t the way it was supposed to happen…the princess is supposed to get saved by the prince!”
“Oh come on, Boone,” Shannon snapped, rolling her eyes again as she grabbed his sleeve and dragged him impatiently off the dais. “Grow up!”
And they all lived happily ever after. Or, well, something.