[fic] In the Morning (Princess Bride, 1/1, G)
Here's the Princess Bride fic I was talking about. :)
Title: In the Morning
Fandom: The Princess Bride
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Westley meets the Dread Pirate Roberts.
Author's notes: Thank you to thistlerose for betaing. :)
They came just before the sun rose, when Westley was asleep. Screams and clashing metal woke him, though by the time he was dressed and out on the deck, nearly-useless belt knife that he didn't know how to use in hand, it was all over.
"Line up, all of you," called a man, tall and slender and all dressed in black. "Go on, go on, we haven't got all night, there's a schedule to keep. Line up, I want to look at you."
Pirates, Westley thought, fear tightening into a knot inside his chest. I'm about to die. I can't die. I promised Buttercup that I would come for her. He tried not to look at the dead bodies on the deck, even as he was shuffling into place in the line.
"Do you know who I am?" the pirate asked, and a heartbeat later, answered himself. "I am the Dread Pirate Roberts, and I am commandeering this vessel."
He started to walk up and down the line, though it was a short walk. The ship was small, with an equally small crew, and not much space was needed to carry expensive spices. Westley kept his gaze on the floor, and in his mind fixed the picture of Buttercup's hair flowing in the wind as she smiled and held out a hand to him. Perhaps his memory of her, normally so soothing, would quell his rising panic.
"So what should I do with you?" the Dread Pirate Roberts continued. "I've already got a crew of my own, so I don't need you. And it's well known that I never take prisoners; they're too much trouble to keep. You there," he said suddenly, and pointed to a man two down from Westley. "Do you like fish?"
The man cleared his throat. "Yes, sir," he said, though clearly confused. "I'd not be a proper sailor if I--"
"Very well," the Dread Pirate Roberts said, and flapped a hand at one of his crew. "You can keep them company, then, though I somehow doubt that they'll like you as much as you like them. Throw him overboard."
"No, no, don't, I'll do anything," the man babbled, panicking and backing away, before he was grabbed by burly pirates and tossed overboard. Westley tried not to listen to him screaming in the water, and instead imagined Buttercup's laughter. Just thinking of her image wasn't subduing the panic trying to race its way through his system, so perhaps that beloved voice would. He would give anything just to hear her call him "Farmboy" again right now.
As the morning grew older, Roberts and his men continued picking off the other sailors, until by a cruel trick of fate, Westley was the last crewmember left. Buttercup,, he thought, fighting to keep himself from trembling and to get the other sailors' screaming out of his mind. I love you, Buttercup, no matter what happens. When the Dread Pirate Roberts stopped in front of him, he took the initiative despite his fear, and spoke.
"Please," he said, simply. "Please, I need to live." I must get home to Buttercup. And he would. He would not allow himself to think anything else.
"Oh?" Roberts replied, sounding intrigued. "What's so important to you, then?"
With Buttercup's eyes, crinkled at the corners and dancing with laughter, held in the front of his mind, he answered, "True love."
A few of the pirates burst into mocking laughter, but Roberts waved them to silence. "True love," he repeated. "A worthy thing, indeed. Who is this love of yours that you must live for?"
"The most beautiful woman in the world," Westley replied, the fear in his chest unknotting slightly. Roberts hadn't engaged any of the others in conversation, so perhaps, if he was lucky... "Her name is Buttercup, and I told her when I left to seek my fortune that I would come for her. I do not want her to live out the rest of her days waiting for me."
"How do you know she will?" Roberts asked. "Women are very fickle creatures, you know, and worse if they're beautiful. Perhaps she has even already found a new love."
"Not Buttercup," Westley declared. "She is as faithful as she is beautiful, and I've already told you that she is the most beautiful woman in the world. She will wait for me, but she will be unhappy if I am killed and don't come back, so I can't let you kill me. I can't do anything that will make her unhappy."
And the Dread Pirate Roberts surprised him by laughing, and clapping him on the shoulder. "She probably does not deserve you," he said, "but you are a good man. What is your name?"
"Westley," he replied. Roberts hadn't asked any of the others their names, either. Could he dare hope that he would live to return to Buttercup? "And she deserves whoever will make her happiest. If that happens to be me, so much the better, because I love her."
Roberts raised an eyebrow. "I hope your faith in this beautiful love of yours is rewarded. Maybe you'll find out someday. Myself, I'll keep to my own sweet lady, though she could hardly be called the most beautiful in the world." And before Westley could ask, he jerked his chin in the direction of his ship, and smiled.
But Westley was not looking; he heard Maybe you'll find out someday and could think of nothing else. "You're not going to kill me, then?"
Roberts shrugged. Then he looked around at his crew, all big, burly, tough-looking men, and then back at Westley, who was nothing of the sort. "Perhaps," he said. "Who knows? I can't take prisoners. If word gets out that I'm going soft, I'll never be able to maraud the seas again."
"Am I a prisoner if I go with you voluntarily?" Westley asked. If I go with him voluntarily...who knows how long it will be before I come back? Wait for me, Buttercup. I will return, I promise.
Roberts laughed and looked surprised. "Perhaps not," he said. "All right, Westley, I've never had a valet. You can try it for tonight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."
Title: In the Morning
Fandom: The Princess Bride
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~1000
Summary: Westley meets the Dread Pirate Roberts.
Author's notes: Thank you to thistlerose for betaing. :)
They came just before the sun rose, when Westley was asleep. Screams and clashing metal woke him, though by the time he was dressed and out on the deck, nearly-useless belt knife that he didn't know how to use in hand, it was all over.
"Line up, all of you," called a man, tall and slender and all dressed in black. "Go on, go on, we haven't got all night, there's a schedule to keep. Line up, I want to look at you."
Pirates, Westley thought, fear tightening into a knot inside his chest. I'm about to die. I can't die. I promised Buttercup that I would come for her. He tried not to look at the dead bodies on the deck, even as he was shuffling into place in the line.
"Do you know who I am?" the pirate asked, and a heartbeat later, answered himself. "I am the Dread Pirate Roberts, and I am commandeering this vessel."
He started to walk up and down the line, though it was a short walk. The ship was small, with an equally small crew, and not much space was needed to carry expensive spices. Westley kept his gaze on the floor, and in his mind fixed the picture of Buttercup's hair flowing in the wind as she smiled and held out a hand to him. Perhaps his memory of her, normally so soothing, would quell his rising panic.
"So what should I do with you?" the Dread Pirate Roberts continued. "I've already got a crew of my own, so I don't need you. And it's well known that I never take prisoners; they're too much trouble to keep. You there," he said suddenly, and pointed to a man two down from Westley. "Do you like fish?"
The man cleared his throat. "Yes, sir," he said, though clearly confused. "I'd not be a proper sailor if I--"
"Very well," the Dread Pirate Roberts said, and flapped a hand at one of his crew. "You can keep them company, then, though I somehow doubt that they'll like you as much as you like them. Throw him overboard."
"No, no, don't, I'll do anything," the man babbled, panicking and backing away, before he was grabbed by burly pirates and tossed overboard. Westley tried not to listen to him screaming in the water, and instead imagined Buttercup's laughter. Just thinking of her image wasn't subduing the panic trying to race its way through his system, so perhaps that beloved voice would. He would give anything just to hear her call him "Farmboy" again right now.
As the morning grew older, Roberts and his men continued picking off the other sailors, until by a cruel trick of fate, Westley was the last crewmember left. Buttercup,, he thought, fighting to keep himself from trembling and to get the other sailors' screaming out of his mind. I love you, Buttercup, no matter what happens. When the Dread Pirate Roberts stopped in front of him, he took the initiative despite his fear, and spoke.
"Please," he said, simply. "Please, I need to live." I must get home to Buttercup. And he would. He would not allow himself to think anything else.
"Oh?" Roberts replied, sounding intrigued. "What's so important to you, then?"
With Buttercup's eyes, crinkled at the corners and dancing with laughter, held in the front of his mind, he answered, "True love."
A few of the pirates burst into mocking laughter, but Roberts waved them to silence. "True love," he repeated. "A worthy thing, indeed. Who is this love of yours that you must live for?"
"The most beautiful woman in the world," Westley replied, the fear in his chest unknotting slightly. Roberts hadn't engaged any of the others in conversation, so perhaps, if he was lucky... "Her name is Buttercup, and I told her when I left to seek my fortune that I would come for her. I do not want her to live out the rest of her days waiting for me."
"How do you know she will?" Roberts asked. "Women are very fickle creatures, you know, and worse if they're beautiful. Perhaps she has even already found a new love."
"Not Buttercup," Westley declared. "She is as faithful as she is beautiful, and I've already told you that she is the most beautiful woman in the world. She will wait for me, but she will be unhappy if I am killed and don't come back, so I can't let you kill me. I can't do anything that will make her unhappy."
And the Dread Pirate Roberts surprised him by laughing, and clapping him on the shoulder. "She probably does not deserve you," he said, "but you are a good man. What is your name?"
"Westley," he replied. Roberts hadn't asked any of the others their names, either. Could he dare hope that he would live to return to Buttercup? "And she deserves whoever will make her happiest. If that happens to be me, so much the better, because I love her."
Roberts raised an eyebrow. "I hope your faith in this beautiful love of yours is rewarded. Maybe you'll find out someday. Myself, I'll keep to my own sweet lady, though she could hardly be called the most beautiful in the world." And before Westley could ask, he jerked his chin in the direction of his ship, and smiled.
But Westley was not looking; he heard Maybe you'll find out someday and could think of nothing else. "You're not going to kill me, then?"
Roberts shrugged. Then he looked around at his crew, all big, burly, tough-looking men, and then back at Westley, who was nothing of the sort. "Perhaps," he said. "Who knows? I can't take prisoners. If word gets out that I'm going soft, I'll never be able to maraud the seas again."
"Am I a prisoner if I go with you voluntarily?" Westley asked. If I go with him voluntarily...who knows how long it will be before I come back? Wait for me, Buttercup. I will return, I promise.
Roberts laughed and looked surprised. "Perhaps not," he said. "All right, Westley, I've never had a valet. You can try it for tonight. I'll most likely kill you in the morning."