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Prince Charming has fallen under an evil spell. It is up to the brave heroine and her sidekick to come to the rescue, this time. This is what happens when I write romance.
An awful fate had fallen on Prince Deleron the Charming. No sooner did my friend, Synara, hear about her love"s fate than she decided to rush to the rescue.
Don't get me wrong, Synara's all heart. But she was mostly basing her assumption of their love on his triumphant rescue of her from a poison which had been administered by his psychotic mother a couple of months ago. Unbeknownst to her, it hadn't worked. Not that he hadn't tried, mind you (complete with all the dramatic atmosphere he could muster. . . which was quite a bit, but it only made the situation appear somewhat comical to me).
Hey, it's not like I planned the whole stupid true-love's-kiss thing to work for me! But what was I supposed to do? Just stand back and watch her die after Deli failed? I don't think so.
Anyway, we were just friends.
She'd been asleep at the time this fateful kiss took place, so I couldn't really blame her. After all, if I were a girl I'd probably take Mr. Gorgeous-blue-eyed-blond-haired-prince over me, too.
Those fairies. Sometimes they have a bit too much time on their hands. They're constantly trying to outdo themselves in making the perfect princesses and princes.
So, thanks to my misdirection, Sy was anxious to save her One True Love from his horribly terrible Awful Fate. He'd been cursed to sleep for a hundred years. The only thing that could save him? True Love's Kiss, of course. How trite.
As seems to be my lot in life, I accompanied her to the Evil Fortress of Awful Doom Death and Dying as her supposedly comic sidekick. I didn't play the part of the sighing, moaning wronged lover. I even took her cat along because she refused to leave the blasted thing behind. How gracious of me.
EFADDD (the commonly used abbreviation) was one tall tower—filled with much darkness and evil, I assure you—with many stairs and one room at the top. Of course, that's where dear Princey would be. To make it ultimately romantic, he wouldn't even be snoring. Yeah, I hated him for that. Who could possibly hope to compete with someone like him?
The night had an ominous and forbidding atmosphere, with all its dark and stormy ferocity. It sure made a lot of mud, too.
Knowing Sy would probably want to be alone with her Beloved Deli in order to increase the dramatic atmosphere, I said “You go take care of Prince Charming. I'll stand guard.” Namely for his mother. After Synara, I was one of her least favorite people.
It might have seemed like a dramatically heroic and even romantic moment, if it hadn't been for her darned cat, draped over my shoulder and purring loudly. I'll never be able to understand why the blasted creature took a liking to me.
“Are you sure?” She asked. What I wasn't sure of was whether or not I should feel offended by her concern.
“I"ll be fine,” I said.
She nodded before heading up the Never-ending Stairs of Doom (odd name, seeing as there were only 1362 of them. I counted).
By my nature, I'm not the fighting type. I didn't even have a good weapon. . . unless you count the cat. Poor, trusting soul. I must admit, I was tempted to lob him at my enemies. . . but only for a moment. Nobody deserved that awful fate.
Besides, the queen was Evil—not to mention Dangerous. I didn't stand a chance even if I did use the cat as a projectile.
As if sensing me contemplating my unworthiness to face her, she appeared before me (no doubt by use of her Evil Magic). She laughed her most evil laugh when she saw me, calling up a breeze to stir her dark robes around her. If she was trying to intimidate me, she succeeded.
Feeling less heroic by the minute, I set the disgruntled cat down and moved to block the stairs.
“You must care for Synara very much, Gerrin.” She observed, amused by how obviously worthless my attempts were.
“Of course,” I said.
She laughed evilly again. “But she cares only for my son.”
“Why should that bother me?”
She let off yet another menacing laugh. “I think it's obvious. You have loved her all along.”
“Naturally,” I said as, well, naturally as I could.
Four laughs in a row and counting. “Yet my son is the only one she could ever love. Surely you know this.”
I was starting to get a bit annoyed, honestly. “It doesn't really matter. I'm not going to let you up there as long as I'm still standing.”
I began to wonder if she'd been somehow cursed to laugh at me every time I said something or if I was just funnier than everyone told me I was. “Well, then, I shall just have to make sure you're not standing.” With speed I wouldn't have believed possible in a woman of her age, she stabbed me in the finger with a needle. It was probably the same one she had used on Synara all those months ago.
Like the true genius I am, I stood staring at my finger, which was now bleeding. “Ow,” I said before I fell in a very un-heroic, un-dramatic way.
During this period of my unconsciousness, Synara made it to the top of the stairs, where Prince Deleron awaited her. As she looked at him now, she realized she knew so little about him. They had become engaged after meeting at a ball he'd hosted only six moths before, and she had spent the majority of that time hiding from his mother, who hated her for reasons she could not understand. That was nothing to base love on.
Besides, she knew the way he kissed. Thinking back on it, she realized that it hadn't been him who'd saved her. And she didn't have to use a lot of imagination to figure out who it really was.
Anyway, he was supposed to sleep for a hundred years. Even his mother couldn't break the spell. Therefore, who was she to interfere with destiny? It certainly couldn't hurt him.
With a smile, she turned and headed back down the stairs. When she passed the shocked queen with a quick “Don't worry, I don't want him,” she felt even better. It was time for her to set things straight.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs and saw me, I'm told I didn't exactly present a romantic image. I was sprawled in the mud, sound asleep due to the poison the queen had used on me. That same poison which naturally only had one cure. I was snoring, unlike Prince Charming, and the dreaded cat was curled up on my chest, purring loudly.
And she kissed me, in spite of it all. That's real love for you.
The Magical Remedy having been administered, I woke up, shocked to see her smiling at me. Then she hit me. . . hard.
“What was that for?” I asked, rubbing my shoulder where the blow had landed.
“If you ever lie to me again, you unbelievably brainless moron,” she said, glaring at me, “I will murder you in the most painful, gruesome way I can think of because I love you and I'll keep loving you until I don't love you any longer.”
I actually had a wise moment, for once, and didn't argue with her. “Okay.”
She couldn't keep a straight face. She grinned at me. I grinned back. Looking back on that moment, I might not have been the only one who would have looked like an idiot to the average passerby.
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