Yuletide fic: The Princess Bride Strikes Back (or, Buttercup Has Had Enough of These Shenanigans)
Yuletide reveal #4...because there was eleventh-hour fic writing. :D
The Princess Bride Strikes Back (or, Buttercup Has Had Enough of These Shenanigans)
Buttercup, Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik; Buttercup/Westley | PG | 1,600 words
a/n: Written for mtgat in Yuletide Madness 2010. Set after the movie/book (draws on both as a source). Thank you to my intrepid beta reader destina. On the AO3 here.
Buttercup decided that things were going fairly well, considering. Westley was able to move again, and they were all alive. Although Westley still moved a bit stiffly, it was raining, Buttercup's horse seemed determined to throw another shoe, Fezzik's back was bothering him, and Inigo had lost his favorite dagger. On the way to the farm, which Buttercup thought might offer temporary refuge, the four decided to stop and rest.
Inigo and Fezzik shared a loaf of bread, arguing over the best road to take. Wesley lay with his head leaning on Buttercup's thigh, her fingers smoothing the damp hair from his forehead. A tree shielded them from some of the rain. Westley smiled at her, she smiled back, and it was as good as a bright sunny day.
"Uh oh," said Fezzik, breaking off the middle of his argument with Inigo.
"Uh oh, what?" Westley sat up. Buttercup missed the warmth of him against her leg.
Prince Humperdinck's riders appeared on the crest of the slope, bearing down upon them.
Inigo tossed aside the remains of the bread and drew his sword. "This is not good."
Westley pulled Buttercup to her feet. They hurried to their horses but it was too late. The riders were nearly upon them, hooves pounding heavily into the mud.
"We got away from them once before," Fezzik said hopefully. "Westley couldn't even walk that time."
Westley drew his own sword and went to stand by Inigo. Fezzik scowled and inhaled deeply, making the impressive span of his chest look even more impressive. The mud spattering his breeches and shirt added to the effect, Buttercup thought, although it seemed funny to her now that she had ever looked at Fezzik and been afraid.
The riders spread out, starting to form a circle to surround them.
"This is not good at all." Inigo glanced over at Fezzik, who gave him a grim look back.
Buttercup folded her arms over her chest, lifted her chin, and tossed her long, damp hair back. She had been the riders' princess for a time, even if her skirts were torn and mud-stained and she wasn't their princess now. She had learned a few things. She could intimidate them with a glare. They might listen to her. Perhaps she could--
Westley took her arm and pulled her in for a kiss. It rather ruined the effect Buttercup was going for, but she very much enjoyed Westley's kisses, so she wasn't about to complain.
His timing did seem rather poor in this instance.
"Sweet Westley, what..."
"Buttercup, run," he said, and shoved her down the slope.
The ground was so slippery with mud, Buttercup had little choice but to tuck her head in and go with it. She cursed all the way down, however, every word it was very improper for her to know.
When she reached the bottom, Buttercup attempted to climb back up the slope, but her boots couldn't gain purchase on the slick earth.
One of the riders at the top of the hill turned to look across the countryside, searching for her, no doubt. He was looking in the wrong direction, but Buttercup carefully drew back into the nearby cluster of trees anyway. Her fingers dug into the bark with frustration as she watched the riders close the circle, surrounding Westley and Inigo and Fezzik completely.
It took six of them to take down Fezzik, and another six to disarm Inigo and her wonderful, brave Westley.
Buttercup waited until the riders had moved out of earshot with their three captives before she stepped away from the trees and let loose with the rage that threatened to boil over from inside of her body.
"HUMPERDINCK!" Buttercup screamed into the rain, fists clenched at her sides.
It was better than a curse word.
Enough was enough.
From watching Westley, Buttercup knew a few things about tracking. The damp ground made it difficult, but she'd seen the direction the riders had gone. Eventually the rain stopped and the sun came out. Buttercup found traces of their hoof prints.
She remembered what she'd heard during the battle of wits between the Man in Black and Vizzini. At the next village, Buttercup went to the herbalist. There was no iocaine powder, but she left the old woman's hut with something that might suit her needs even better (since she didn't really want to have to kill all of Humperdinck's men, even if she felt angry enough to), tucked into a pouch at her belt.
There was a blacksmith's shop, as well. Another portion of the money they'd gotten from hocking Buttercup's crown went to the purchase of a small, light sword.
Buttercup made inquiries. The people had seen a large group of horsemen with three prisoners, one of them very large.
"Were they harmed?" Buttercup demanded. "Are the prisoners injured?"
A man told her the biggest prisoner had looked like he was asleep, trussed up across the back of the largest horse. The other two had black sacks over their heads, riding with a rope lead attached to their bound wrists. They weren't headed towards the castle, but deeper into the forest.
Muttering curses under her breath, Buttercup took her sword and her pouch of herbs and walked in the direction the townspeople said the riders had gone. Her feet hurt and her clothes itched from being wet and then drying all muddy and it had taken forever to get people to talk. They seemed like they hadn't taken her seriously at first, not until she'd drawn herself up to her full height and glared at them. The gold pieces she'd slapped angrily down onto the tavern table seemed to help as well.
Westley might be bleeding right that minute. Buttercup walked faster.
With the rain over, it was easier to track them. It was a half a day's hike to the cave where the riders were keeping Westley and Fezzik and Inigo.
Buttercup snuck into the camp, slipped powder into the stew the riders were making for their dinner, fled back into the forest, and waited.
Humperdinck didn't seem to be there yet -- she'd heard one of the men say that he was on his way. What Buttercup wanted to do was wait until Humperdinck arrived, and then she could stab him. Or she could kidnap him, take him across the channel, and shove him off the Cliffs of Insanity or throw him into the Fireswamp for the R.O.U.Ses to find. Buttercup passed the time imagining all the different ways she could kill Prince Humperdinck. Sharks! Perhaps they could hire a boat, and throw him overboard. Or the shrieking eels might have him. The thought of shrieking eels devouring Prince Humperdinck made Buttercup smile.
But it was too risky -- she'd already lost Westley, or thought she had, twice. She also couldn't bear to see Fezzik and Inigo risk their freedom or their lives just because Buttercup wanted to tie Humperdinck up and drop him into a pit of giant poisonous spiders.
The riders ate their evening stew and promptly fell asleep, their snores filling the camp. Buttercup walked past them, sword gripped tight in her sweaty hand, afraid they would wake up if she made too much noise, but none of them stirred. The sleeping herbs were as good as the old woman had promised.
She found a torch still burning after it had been dropped by one of the guards, picked it up, and let its flickering light guide her deeper into the cave.
"Westley!"
His hands were bound above his head and tied to an iron ring set into the wall. His head slumped forward.
"Oh, my sweet Westley, say something, are you all right?" Buttercup took his face in her hands. He didn't appear to be bleeding.
He opened his eyes. "I was only taking a cat nap," he said, rather defensively. "Resting for a moment."
"Of course you were, dear," Buttercup said, and kissed him hard.
Then she untied Westley and turned to Inigo.
"Hello, Buttercup, you are looking particularly lovely this evening," Inigo said, his mouth curving in a gentle smile for her as she reached up to untie his wrists.
Inigo hurried past her to kneel beside Fezzik, who was tied up like a large bundle, his eyes shut.
"Fezzik," Inigo said, and rested his hand on Fezzik's curly hair for a moment. He leaned down to listen to Fezzik's breaths. "He is still drugged," Inigo said curtly, going to work loosening the bonds.
It seemed that Buttercup might have to take turns with Inigo putting Humperdinck in a large vat of stinging fire beetles.
Fortunately for them, the herbs used to put Fezzik to sleep wore off sooner than the herbs Buttercup had put into the riders' stew. The three of them walked out of the cave, Fezzik leaning a little bit on Inigo, Westley, and Buttercup's combined strengths, but otherwise alert and unharmed.
They'd lost the beautiful white horses they'd stolen from Humperdinck's stable, and a good amount of their funds were now gone due to Buttercup's rescue mission. It seemed that going to the farm wasn't the best idea after all, since Humperdinck might find them there too easily. Also, it had started raining again. Buttercup was very tired of rain.
However, she had her well-made sword, which was just the right weight for her, and shiny. She rested warm, curled up against Westley in the shelter of a tree, while Inigo and Fezzik bickered over how best to set out traps to catch game for their food.
Things weren't going too badly, Buttercup decided, all things considered.
Humperdinck could wait.
***
BWEEEE!
Writing Princess Bride fanfic has never occurred to me before and I had no idea I wanted to write any until I saw mtgat's prompt during the Yuletide Madness and...what the hey, that's one of the glorious things about Yuletide.
Oh, and mtgat, Humperdinck should start running now. Buttercup totally gets revenge and kicks his ass, even if I didn't actually write that part. *G*
The Princess Bride Strikes Back (or, Buttercup Has Had Enough of These Shenanigans)
Buttercup, Westley, Inigo, and Fezzik; Buttercup/Westley | PG | 1,600 words
a/n: Written for mtgat in Yuletide Madness 2010. Set after the movie/book (draws on both as a source). Thank you to my intrepid beta reader destina. On the AO3 here.
Buttercup decided that things were going fairly well, considering. Westley was able to move again, and they were all alive. Although Westley still moved a bit stiffly, it was raining, Buttercup's horse seemed determined to throw another shoe, Fezzik's back was bothering him, and Inigo had lost his favorite dagger. On the way to the farm, which Buttercup thought might offer temporary refuge, the four decided to stop and rest.
Inigo and Fezzik shared a loaf of bread, arguing over the best road to take. Wesley lay with his head leaning on Buttercup's thigh, her fingers smoothing the damp hair from his forehead. A tree shielded them from some of the rain. Westley smiled at her, she smiled back, and it was as good as a bright sunny day.
"Uh oh," said Fezzik, breaking off the middle of his argument with Inigo.
"Uh oh, what?" Westley sat up. Buttercup missed the warmth of him against her leg.
Prince Humperdinck's riders appeared on the crest of the slope, bearing down upon them.
Inigo tossed aside the remains of the bread and drew his sword. "This is not good."
Westley pulled Buttercup to her feet. They hurried to their horses but it was too late. The riders were nearly upon them, hooves pounding heavily into the mud.
"We got away from them once before," Fezzik said hopefully. "Westley couldn't even walk that time."
Westley drew his own sword and went to stand by Inigo. Fezzik scowled and inhaled deeply, making the impressive span of his chest look even more impressive. The mud spattering his breeches and shirt added to the effect, Buttercup thought, although it seemed funny to her now that she had ever looked at Fezzik and been afraid.
The riders spread out, starting to form a circle to surround them.
"This is not good at all." Inigo glanced over at Fezzik, who gave him a grim look back.
Buttercup folded her arms over her chest, lifted her chin, and tossed her long, damp hair back. She had been the riders' princess for a time, even if her skirts were torn and mud-stained and she wasn't their princess now. She had learned a few things. She could intimidate them with a glare. They might listen to her. Perhaps she could--
Westley took her arm and pulled her in for a kiss. It rather ruined the effect Buttercup was going for, but she very much enjoyed Westley's kisses, so she wasn't about to complain.
His timing did seem rather poor in this instance.
"Sweet Westley, what..."
"Buttercup, run," he said, and shoved her down the slope.
The ground was so slippery with mud, Buttercup had little choice but to tuck her head in and go with it. She cursed all the way down, however, every word it was very improper for her to know.
When she reached the bottom, Buttercup attempted to climb back up the slope, but her boots couldn't gain purchase on the slick earth.
One of the riders at the top of the hill turned to look across the countryside, searching for her, no doubt. He was looking in the wrong direction, but Buttercup carefully drew back into the nearby cluster of trees anyway. Her fingers dug into the bark with frustration as she watched the riders close the circle, surrounding Westley and Inigo and Fezzik completely.
It took six of them to take down Fezzik, and another six to disarm Inigo and her wonderful, brave Westley.
Buttercup waited until the riders had moved out of earshot with their three captives before she stepped away from the trees and let loose with the rage that threatened to boil over from inside of her body.
"HUMPERDINCK!" Buttercup screamed into the rain, fists clenched at her sides.
It was better than a curse word.
Enough was enough.
From watching Westley, Buttercup knew a few things about tracking. The damp ground made it difficult, but she'd seen the direction the riders had gone. Eventually the rain stopped and the sun came out. Buttercup found traces of their hoof prints.
She remembered what she'd heard during the battle of wits between the Man in Black and Vizzini. At the next village, Buttercup went to the herbalist. There was no iocaine powder, but she left the old woman's hut with something that might suit her needs even better (since she didn't really want to have to kill all of Humperdinck's men, even if she felt angry enough to), tucked into a pouch at her belt.
There was a blacksmith's shop, as well. Another portion of the money they'd gotten from hocking Buttercup's crown went to the purchase of a small, light sword.
Buttercup made inquiries. The people had seen a large group of horsemen with three prisoners, one of them very large.
"Were they harmed?" Buttercup demanded. "Are the prisoners injured?"
A man told her the biggest prisoner had looked like he was asleep, trussed up across the back of the largest horse. The other two had black sacks over their heads, riding with a rope lead attached to their bound wrists. They weren't headed towards the castle, but deeper into the forest.
Muttering curses under her breath, Buttercup took her sword and her pouch of herbs and walked in the direction the townspeople said the riders had gone. Her feet hurt and her clothes itched from being wet and then drying all muddy and it had taken forever to get people to talk. They seemed like they hadn't taken her seriously at first, not until she'd drawn herself up to her full height and glared at them. The gold pieces she'd slapped angrily down onto the tavern table seemed to help as well.
Westley might be bleeding right that minute. Buttercup walked faster.
With the rain over, it was easier to track them. It was a half a day's hike to the cave where the riders were keeping Westley and Fezzik and Inigo.
Buttercup snuck into the camp, slipped powder into the stew the riders were making for their dinner, fled back into the forest, and waited.
Humperdinck didn't seem to be there yet -- she'd heard one of the men say that he was on his way. What Buttercup wanted to do was wait until Humperdinck arrived, and then she could stab him. Or she could kidnap him, take him across the channel, and shove him off the Cliffs of Insanity or throw him into the Fireswamp for the R.O.U.Ses to find. Buttercup passed the time imagining all the different ways she could kill Prince Humperdinck. Sharks! Perhaps they could hire a boat, and throw him overboard. Or the shrieking eels might have him. The thought of shrieking eels devouring Prince Humperdinck made Buttercup smile.
But it was too risky -- she'd already lost Westley, or thought she had, twice. She also couldn't bear to see Fezzik and Inigo risk their freedom or their lives just because Buttercup wanted to tie Humperdinck up and drop him into a pit of giant poisonous spiders.
The riders ate their evening stew and promptly fell asleep, their snores filling the camp. Buttercup walked past them, sword gripped tight in her sweaty hand, afraid they would wake up if she made too much noise, but none of them stirred. The sleeping herbs were as good as the old woman had promised.
She found a torch still burning after it had been dropped by one of the guards, picked it up, and let its flickering light guide her deeper into the cave.
"Westley!"
His hands were bound above his head and tied to an iron ring set into the wall. His head slumped forward.
"Oh, my sweet Westley, say something, are you all right?" Buttercup took his face in her hands. He didn't appear to be bleeding.
He opened his eyes. "I was only taking a cat nap," he said, rather defensively. "Resting for a moment."
"Of course you were, dear," Buttercup said, and kissed him hard.
Then she untied Westley and turned to Inigo.
"Hello, Buttercup, you are looking particularly lovely this evening," Inigo said, his mouth curving in a gentle smile for her as she reached up to untie his wrists.
Inigo hurried past her to kneel beside Fezzik, who was tied up like a large bundle, his eyes shut.
"Fezzik," Inigo said, and rested his hand on Fezzik's curly hair for a moment. He leaned down to listen to Fezzik's breaths. "He is still drugged," Inigo said curtly, going to work loosening the bonds.
It seemed that Buttercup might have to take turns with Inigo putting Humperdinck in a large vat of stinging fire beetles.
Fortunately for them, the herbs used to put Fezzik to sleep wore off sooner than the herbs Buttercup had put into the riders' stew. The three of them walked out of the cave, Fezzik leaning a little bit on Inigo, Westley, and Buttercup's combined strengths, but otherwise alert and unharmed.
They'd lost the beautiful white horses they'd stolen from Humperdinck's stable, and a good amount of their funds were now gone due to Buttercup's rescue mission. It seemed that going to the farm wasn't the best idea after all, since Humperdinck might find them there too easily. Also, it had started raining again. Buttercup was very tired of rain.
However, she had her well-made sword, which was just the right weight for her, and shiny. She rested warm, curled up against Westley in the shelter of a tree, while Inigo and Fezzik bickered over how best to set out traps to catch game for their food.
Things weren't going too badly, Buttercup decided, all things considered.
Humperdinck could wait.
***
BWEEEE!
Writing Princess Bride fanfic has never occurred to me before and I had no idea I wanted to write any until I saw mtgat's prompt during the Yuletide Madness and...what the hey, that's one of the glorious things about Yuletide.
Oh, and mtgat, Humperdinck should start running now. Buttercup totally gets revenge and kicks his ass, even if I didn't actually write that part. *G*