Post by Fancy on Dec 9, 2010 21:30:24 GMT -5
Here's a short story I wrote for a creative writing workshop. I think it's kind of Snicket-esque in places...hope you like it.
Once upon a time, in a small kingdom somewhere between Winnipeg and Bombay, there lived a pair of monarchs who, if not the smartest crayons in the box, were at least benevolent and well-meaning rulers. They had all the fancy garments, gourmet food, and lavish gardens they could want, and for the most part were happy, but over time they realized they were missing one thing.
The King and Queen dearly wanted a little heir to call their own. For years the two gave it their best effort, to no avail. Just as the Queen was starting to get hot flashes, the King was taking notice of the tasty chambermaid’s child-bearing curves, and both had just about given up hope, they finally got their wish.
One autumn morning, the two were taking their daily walk through the walled garden when they heard a rustling noise from one of the bushes. The Queen parted the leaves to find a sleeping infant, no hints of her origin but a blanket and a little key-shaped necklace. The monarchs had found their Princess.
For the first few hours, the little girl was perfectly happy and the new parents took great joy in their new heir, who they named Josephine after the king’s late mother. Eventually, though, she got to crying. And crying. The Queen didn’t know what to do. She had never even held a baby before. Some of her maids who’d had children tried to help, but nobody could figure out what was the matter with the child. She wailed, a warped-sounding cry that seemed to slow down without decreasing in volume. When no one could figure out the problem, the royal doctor and his royal stethoscope were called in. The infant’s heart beat didn’t sound right, he said. Not like a heart at all, more like a clock. So, naturally, the village watchmaker was the next to be called in. After listening to the Princess himself, he determined that she just needed to be wound up. He searched, and found a little keyhole above the spot where the baby’s heart should have been.
“Where’s the key?” He asked. The King looked puzzled.
“Oh!” the Queen exclaimed, and produced the baby’s necklace. The Watchmaker took it, wound up the child, and handed it back to the Queen.
“Just don’t let her wind down and she should be fine. Nice healthy little Princess there.”
The royal family diligently followed the Watchmaker’s advice in the years that followed, and the Princess Josephine grew into as fit and pleasant-looking an heir as her parents could have hoped, if maybe a bit more serious than they saw need for.
Josephine did not take her role as future ruler lightly. While her mother spent much of her time planning parties and her father was always out fox-hunting, the Princess committed herself to study: History, sociology, psychology, languages… Anything she thought might be useful in governing a country.
The current king, for the most part, left much of that boring stuff to his Royal Advisor. And while the monarch was a genius when it came to selecting French cheeses to eat after meals, he was not nearly so adept at choosing trustworthy officials. To conduct the kingdom’s day-to-day affairs, he employed a man who (anyone could tell by the curl of his moustache) perhaps had his own interests at heart more so than those of his countrymen. Over the course of the King’s regime, this Advisor had grown accustomed to a certain amount of authority, and he was not looking forward to giving that up once the Princess became ruler.
As Josephine had grown into quite a beautiful young woman, the Advisor’s decision to marry her was one that came about pretty easily. However, the feeling was far from mutual, and when he offered himself, Josephine declined as politely as she was able.
He was furious, as villains often are. He was, in his opinion, a very handsome and learned man. What right did she have to refuse him? He became determined to find a way to win over the Princess, or else to get revenge for her slight.
It wasn’t long until he saw his chance. One afternoon, Josephine was wandering the same garden in which she had been found, when she felt her breath grow heavy and metallic. She was used to this, and took the little key from around her neck and began to wind up. It was at this moment the Advisor saw her.
“What is this?” he said, snatching the key from her hand. He spied the keyhole on her chest before she had time to cover up.
“I knew you were heartless!” he sneered. She reached after the key, but he ran out of the garden, taking it with him. Josephine pursued him off of the palace grounds and into the road, but as she ran she felt her body winding down until everything stopped.
Our Princess hadn’t been down for long, though, when a romantic lead showed up in the form of the watchmaker’s apprentice. This waifish fellow’s name was Xander, and while he may not have been the hulking knight-in-shining-armor type, he could definitely rock the mysterious genius persona. He was a genius, and ever since he was a small boy, he had worked with every kind of machinery imaginable. Josephine, though, was the most perfectly constructed he had ever seen, The second he saw her collapsed on the ground, the gears in his head started turning; he had to help her somehow. Hoping desperately that no one would see him and accuse him of anything dishonorable, Xander, (with some amount of struggle,) lifted the Princess over his shoulder and carried her to his workshop.
The first thing Josephine heard when she woke up was ticking. At first it was the familiar sound of her own clockwork, but then the sound multiplied into hundreds of clocks, each ticktocking out of sync with the others, then melding together into a perpetual buzz. She opened her eyes and saw a bespectacled pair she had often secretly admired.
“You’re in the clock shop,” Xander told her, before she could ask.
“Where’s my key?” Josephine said. He shook his head.
“You don’t need it.”
Josephine looked at her chest. There was no keyhole.
“Infinity clockwork,” he went on, “Part magic, part machine. Been tinkering with the theory for ages, but the Watchmaker wouldn’t let me use any of it, says magic always has consequences. Hah, doesn’t want to lose any repair jobs more like. You don’t need to wind up anymore. Of course, it won’t last forever, but it should do you for seventy, eighty years at least,” He suddenly looked unsure of himself. “Very experimental. Risky, even, but seeing as you didn’t have your key…I mean, I know I should have asked, but, under the circumstances…” Josephine shook her head, and grinned.
“Better get you back to the palace,” Xander said. “But quietly, there’s something happening out there.”
He was right. Only minutes after Josephine was returned, a mob had formed outside the castle. There were only a few farmers in the crowd, but plenty of the townsfolk carried shiny pitchforks, kept locked away and spiffed up for occasions like this. The King’s Advisor stood before the unruly group, egging them on.
“Can you trust a machine to run a kingdom of humans? You there, do you know what she’ll do to your children? She’ll cut them open and replace their insides with clockwork!”
The woman in question shrieked. The advisor suppressed a grin.
“There is only one way to stop it.”
“I’ll chop her up!” growled the Butcher, brandishing his cleaver.
“I’ll bake her into muffins!” volunteered the Baker.
“I’ll light some candles so you can see what you’re doing!” added the Candlestick-Maker. The crowd huzzaed.
“Come on out here, Princess!” Someone shouted from the back.
“Yeah!”
“Show us that pretty clockwork of yours!”
“Unless you want us to come get you…”
Inside the Palace, Josephine was frozen in her chair. Years of study, and she had no idea how to deal with anything like this. She looked questioningly at Xander but all he could give was a weak smile.
“I guess I’d better go out there.” She stood up and walked out onto the palace steps, the apprentice close behind.
“Well, Princess,” taunted the King’s Advisor, “What do you have to say for yourself? Watchmaker, bet you’ve had a look. What’s she made out of?”
Xander blushed, but met the man’s gaze.
“She’s as human as you or I. More than you, actually.” The Advisor snorted.
“We’ll let the people be the judge of that,” he said, and tore at the front of the Princess’ dress, to the cheers of the mob.
But then the crowd hushed. Josephine scowled and pulled up her frock.
“There’s nothing there!” Someone muttered.
“Well…I saw a couple of things.”
“He lied to us!”
“Like I told you,” said Xander, “she’s human.” The crowd turned to the King’s Adviser.
“They’re tricking you!” he shouted, but the townspeople were done listening to him. They were determined to have somebody that night, and, ignoring his cries, they swept him away. He was never heard from in that land again. The Princess and the Watchmaker’s apprentice stared off at the disappearing crowd in silence. Finally, the Princess turned and walked indoors, and Xander stooped to pick up a tiny object that had fallen before following her.
Inside, Josephine sunk back into her chair, staring silently into the fire. Xander walked up behind her and placed a quiet hand on the back of her chair.
“Princess?”
She turned.
“This is yours,” he said, taking the key from his pocket. Josephine shook her head.
“You keep it.”
He did. And despite Josephine’s newfound tendencies to occasionally turn her parents into frogs, or breathe fire at servants, (no doubt the magical consequences the Watchmaker had warned about) the two lived happily until they finally wound down together.
The Clockwork Princess
Once upon a time, in a small kingdom somewhere between Winnipeg and Bombay, there lived a pair of monarchs who, if not the smartest crayons in the box, were at least benevolent and well-meaning rulers. They had all the fancy garments, gourmet food, and lavish gardens they could want, and for the most part were happy, but over time they realized they were missing one thing.
The King and Queen dearly wanted a little heir to call their own. For years the two gave it their best effort, to no avail. Just as the Queen was starting to get hot flashes, the King was taking notice of the tasty chambermaid’s child-bearing curves, and both had just about given up hope, they finally got their wish.
One autumn morning, the two were taking their daily walk through the walled garden when they heard a rustling noise from one of the bushes. The Queen parted the leaves to find a sleeping infant, no hints of her origin but a blanket and a little key-shaped necklace. The monarchs had found their Princess.
For the first few hours, the little girl was perfectly happy and the new parents took great joy in their new heir, who they named Josephine after the king’s late mother. Eventually, though, she got to crying. And crying. The Queen didn’t know what to do. She had never even held a baby before. Some of her maids who’d had children tried to help, but nobody could figure out what was the matter with the child. She wailed, a warped-sounding cry that seemed to slow down without decreasing in volume. When no one could figure out the problem, the royal doctor and his royal stethoscope were called in. The infant’s heart beat didn’t sound right, he said. Not like a heart at all, more like a clock. So, naturally, the village watchmaker was the next to be called in. After listening to the Princess himself, he determined that she just needed to be wound up. He searched, and found a little keyhole above the spot where the baby’s heart should have been.
“Where’s the key?” He asked. The King looked puzzled.
“Oh!” the Queen exclaimed, and produced the baby’s necklace. The Watchmaker took it, wound up the child, and handed it back to the Queen.
“Just don’t let her wind down and she should be fine. Nice healthy little Princess there.”
The royal family diligently followed the Watchmaker’s advice in the years that followed, and the Princess Josephine grew into as fit and pleasant-looking an heir as her parents could have hoped, if maybe a bit more serious than they saw need for.
Josephine did not take her role as future ruler lightly. While her mother spent much of her time planning parties and her father was always out fox-hunting, the Princess committed herself to study: History, sociology, psychology, languages… Anything she thought might be useful in governing a country.
The current king, for the most part, left much of that boring stuff to his Royal Advisor. And while the monarch was a genius when it came to selecting French cheeses to eat after meals, he was not nearly so adept at choosing trustworthy officials. To conduct the kingdom’s day-to-day affairs, he employed a man who (anyone could tell by the curl of his moustache) perhaps had his own interests at heart more so than those of his countrymen. Over the course of the King’s regime, this Advisor had grown accustomed to a certain amount of authority, and he was not looking forward to giving that up once the Princess became ruler.
As Josephine had grown into quite a beautiful young woman, the Advisor’s decision to marry her was one that came about pretty easily. However, the feeling was far from mutual, and when he offered himself, Josephine declined as politely as she was able.
He was furious, as villains often are. He was, in his opinion, a very handsome and learned man. What right did she have to refuse him? He became determined to find a way to win over the Princess, or else to get revenge for her slight.
It wasn’t long until he saw his chance. One afternoon, Josephine was wandering the same garden in which she had been found, when she felt her breath grow heavy and metallic. She was used to this, and took the little key from around her neck and began to wind up. It was at this moment the Advisor saw her.
“What is this?” he said, snatching the key from her hand. He spied the keyhole on her chest before she had time to cover up.
“I knew you were heartless!” he sneered. She reached after the key, but he ran out of the garden, taking it with him. Josephine pursued him off of the palace grounds and into the road, but as she ran she felt her body winding down until everything stopped.
Our Princess hadn’t been down for long, though, when a romantic lead showed up in the form of the watchmaker’s apprentice. This waifish fellow’s name was Xander, and while he may not have been the hulking knight-in-shining-armor type, he could definitely rock the mysterious genius persona. He was a genius, and ever since he was a small boy, he had worked with every kind of machinery imaginable. Josephine, though, was the most perfectly constructed he had ever seen, The second he saw her collapsed on the ground, the gears in his head started turning; he had to help her somehow. Hoping desperately that no one would see him and accuse him of anything dishonorable, Xander, (with some amount of struggle,) lifted the Princess over his shoulder and carried her to his workshop.
The first thing Josephine heard when she woke up was ticking. At first it was the familiar sound of her own clockwork, but then the sound multiplied into hundreds of clocks, each ticktocking out of sync with the others, then melding together into a perpetual buzz. She opened her eyes and saw a bespectacled pair she had often secretly admired.
“You’re in the clock shop,” Xander told her, before she could ask.
“Where’s my key?” Josephine said. He shook his head.
“You don’t need it.”
Josephine looked at her chest. There was no keyhole.
“Infinity clockwork,” he went on, “Part magic, part machine. Been tinkering with the theory for ages, but the Watchmaker wouldn’t let me use any of it, says magic always has consequences. Hah, doesn’t want to lose any repair jobs more like. You don’t need to wind up anymore. Of course, it won’t last forever, but it should do you for seventy, eighty years at least,” He suddenly looked unsure of himself. “Very experimental. Risky, even, but seeing as you didn’t have your key…I mean, I know I should have asked, but, under the circumstances…” Josephine shook her head, and grinned.
“Better get you back to the palace,” Xander said. “But quietly, there’s something happening out there.”
He was right. Only minutes after Josephine was returned, a mob had formed outside the castle. There were only a few farmers in the crowd, but plenty of the townsfolk carried shiny pitchforks, kept locked away and spiffed up for occasions like this. The King’s Advisor stood before the unruly group, egging them on.
“Can you trust a machine to run a kingdom of humans? You there, do you know what she’ll do to your children? She’ll cut them open and replace their insides with clockwork!”
The woman in question shrieked. The advisor suppressed a grin.
“There is only one way to stop it.”
“I’ll chop her up!” growled the Butcher, brandishing his cleaver.
“I’ll bake her into muffins!” volunteered the Baker.
“I’ll light some candles so you can see what you’re doing!” added the Candlestick-Maker. The crowd huzzaed.
“Come on out here, Princess!” Someone shouted from the back.
“Yeah!”
“Show us that pretty clockwork of yours!”
“Unless you want us to come get you…”
Inside the Palace, Josephine was frozen in her chair. Years of study, and she had no idea how to deal with anything like this. She looked questioningly at Xander but all he could give was a weak smile.
“I guess I’d better go out there.” She stood up and walked out onto the palace steps, the apprentice close behind.
“Well, Princess,” taunted the King’s Advisor, “What do you have to say for yourself? Watchmaker, bet you’ve had a look. What’s she made out of?”
Xander blushed, but met the man’s gaze.
“She’s as human as you or I. More than you, actually.” The Advisor snorted.
“We’ll let the people be the judge of that,” he said, and tore at the front of the Princess’ dress, to the cheers of the mob.
But then the crowd hushed. Josephine scowled and pulled up her frock.
“There’s nothing there!” Someone muttered.
“Well…I saw a couple of things.”
“He lied to us!”
“Like I told you,” said Xander, “she’s human.” The crowd turned to the King’s Adviser.
“They’re tricking you!” he shouted, but the townspeople were done listening to him. They were determined to have somebody that night, and, ignoring his cries, they swept him away. He was never heard from in that land again. The Princess and the Watchmaker’s apprentice stared off at the disappearing crowd in silence. Finally, the Princess turned and walked indoors, and Xander stooped to pick up a tiny object that had fallen before following her.
Inside, Josephine sunk back into her chair, staring silently into the fire. Xander walked up behind her and placed a quiet hand on the back of her chair.
“Princess?”
She turned.
“This is yours,” he said, taking the key from his pocket. Josephine shook her head.
“You keep it.”
He did. And despite Josephine’s newfound tendencies to occasionally turn her parents into frogs, or breathe fire at servants, (no doubt the magical consequences the Watchmaker had warned about) the two lived happily until they finally wound down together.