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daredevilkink2015-05-16 07:55 pm
ddk_mod) wrote in daredevilkink2015-05-16 07:55 pm
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Prompt Post #2
HEAD OVER TO PROMPT POST #3 TO CONTINUE THIS THING.
But please keep filling prompts on this post! Make sure to link any new fic on the complete or work in progress fills posts so it doesn't get missed.
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Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 1/?
(Anonymous) 2015-05-24 04:31 am (UTC)(link)Matt held up the length of wood in front of himself defensively.
“Blind man thinks he can fight!” one of the pirates laughed. Other pirates jeered, gathered around to see the show.
The rest of the crew and passengers were dead, bleeding onto the deck. Matt could smell it, the iron in the air. Soon he would join them, but he couldn’t just give up. It had been like this in the village, even blinded and scrawny, Matt Murdock had fought like the Devil himself was inside, clawing his way free.
He heard one pirate lash out at him. Matt ducked, swung the piece of wood around, and struck the pirate in the stomach. The pirate went down with a groan.
Matt didn’t fare so well after that. More pirates attacked, overwhelming him, until he was pinned to the deck, bruised and bleeding, a sword to his throat.
“That’s enough, lads!” snapped an authoritative voice from nearby.
The sword left, but the hands holding Matt down remained.
“Blind, are ya?” the new voice asked.
“Yes.” Matt hardly understood why that mattered now.
A stick struck Matt across the face, the captain’s cane? “That’s ‘sir,’ to you, boy. You want to live?”
“Yes, sir,” Matt spat blood onto the deck.
“What for? You’re blind, this world is cruel to those born different. Surely this is better, faster?”
Matt thought of Foggy, waiting back home on the farm. He thought of Foggy hearing the news of Matt’s ship taken by pirates. He thought of Foggy’s sunny face clouding over.
“True love.”
The captain made a disgusted sound. “Weak. Very well, have your fun, boys, I have no need of him.”
Matt twisted violently, wrenching free. He knocked one pirate aside, and another, managed to wrench a sword from one. He could sense where the captain was, and he lunged desperately.
The captain’s cane struck him once, twice, three times, laying him low on the deck. Then there was another point of steel at Matt’s throat. A previously hidden blade from the cane’s end.
“I am the Dread Pirate Roberts, boy. And I leave no survivors.”
Matt tensed for death.
“Not every day I meet someone else like myself though. You might prove useful. Amusing at least, for a few days. Get below. Sleep it off.”
Matt staggered upright, in the direction he sensed the ladder below decks.
“I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”
Matt flinched. He wondered if he should beg to be killed right away, instead of waiting for morning.
But … morning was a long way off. Perhaps he could convince the captain to spare him by then. Or engineer an escape.
Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 2/?
(Anonymous) 2015-05-24 04:32 am (UTC)(link)“And you’re certain of this?” King Fisk asked.
“He’s the best butcher in the land, sire,” Count Wesley said. “Renowned for his skills and his kindness.”
King Fisk grunted, and said nothing. It was a long way to travel to seek the latest palace chef, but it was worth it. Queen Vanessa wanted the very best, and King Fisk was determined to provide it to her. From jewels to works of art to their servants, he would see that Florin provided for his Queen.
His greatest shame was that he could not provide for her, and for the kingdom, an heir. King Fisk had thought himself lucky when his youthful dalliances with palace serving girls had brought forth no royal bastards to trouble the line of succession. But after two years of marriage and Queen Vanessa childless, the truth was clear. The Miracle Woman, Claire, had pronounced the Queen faultless and fully capable of birth. The fault was with King Fisk, not his Queen.
There was an ancient law, proscribed for these eventualities. In order to preserve the line of succession, a consort of some kind would be selected. They would sign away their rights to claim parentage of their offspring, enabling the royal couple to produce legal heirs. King Fisk had looked to his most loyal of friends, Count Wesley, but Wesley found no pleasure in women, not enough pleasure to rouse himself to the task.
The carriage rattled to a halt, shaking King Fisk from his thoughts.
Outside was a village like most in Florin, muddy and bustling. The butcher’s shop was not far. Count Wesley and the royal guards swept forward first, clearing the way for King Fisk. Preparing himself for yet another bowing and scraping wart-spackled old man, King Fisk drew himself up to his full height and entered the shop.
Foggy was not considered a beauty by many. True, his arms were muscular, but his rich diet kept him plumper than the kingdom’s previous standards of beauty dictated. He wore his golden hair long, braided up like a woman’s when he worked. His smile, though, was his true defining trait. He could rival the sun when he smiled, and made even the grouchiest woodsman feel young again.
King Wilson Fisk was smitten on the spot.
Foggy, turning to see the King and his retinue entering his shop, panicked.
“Your majesty!” he yelped. He nearly dropped his knife. He set is aside and fell to his knees, bowing his head.
That would never do. Fisk strode forward, ignoring the gawking and bowing peasants around the shop. “Look at me,” he demanded.
Foggy looked up. His eyes were huge. “H-how may I be of service, sire?” he gulped.
Fisk merely nodded. Yes, this one was the one he had been seeking. Vanessa would call Foggy “darling” like she did to the hunting hounds she raised from puppies. Vanessa would take to him at once. Fisk could already imagine them twined together in bed, producing the next heirs in the dynasty.
He needed to get away from all these people. These words would not be for the rabble. “Walk with me.”
Foggy stumbled and hurried after the King, leaving his shocked customers behind.
Count Wesley followed at a respectful distance, the royal guards fanning out and clearing their path. Foggy watched them anxiously. Fisk stared at Foggy openly.
Soon they stood at the edge of a field. Distantly a young woman was herding sheep.
“You are aware, I am certain, of my lack of heirs?”
“Yes, sire?” Foggy blinked.
“I cannot provide them for my Queen. She is capable, I am … not.”
Foggy blushed, averting his eyes. “Sire, um … why are you …?”
“We require a consort, to assist us in producing heirs to the throne. While this was not my intention when I arrived in your shop, it is my intention now. I wish to name you my consort, and the consort of my Queen.”
Foggy took a step back. “Sire I … I cannot.”
“I am the King, there is no barrier I cannot remove.”
“I am in love already.”
Fisk smiled. “Tell me their name; I will pay them your weight in gold: see how long their love for you lasts.”
Foggy’s face clouded. “He died. At sea.”
“And you still pine for him?” Fisk decided to change tactics. “Would he not wish for you to continue your life, to seek a better one?”
Foggy looked near tears. “I … I don’t know, sire.”
“You would want for nothing, you would never know hunger or pain again.” Fisk wondered what it was that peasants desired, above all else. “You would have … power.”
Foggy looked at Fisk. “Could I judge disputes between subjects, ensure that the wronged parties were given satisfaction?”
Fisk had not expected that. “Yes, of course.”
“And could I make use of a percentage of the taxes each year to feed the hungry, heal the sick, and care for the elderly?”
Fisk rankled at the idea, but so long as these handouts took place far from the castle, away from his eyes … what was the harm? Foggy would grow tired of the practice after a few years, once there were royal children to care for. “Certainly.”
Foggy nodded slowly. “Very well, sire, with one more condition, I will accept.”
“And what is that?”
“I will never love you. Nor your Queen.”
Fisk took Foggy by the hand. “I enjoy challenges. You will love me, in time. And the Queen. But I do not require it at first. You have your grief; I will not impose upon that unduly. Now, do you accept?”
“Yes,” Foggy looked down. “I accept.”
Fisk caught Foggy’s mouth in a chaste kiss.
Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 2/?
(Anonymous) 2015-05-24 04:54 am (UTC)(link)That is the sound of ultimate suffering.
My heart makes this sound tonight.
I can't - ugh. This is so good, author anon. I don't even care that the updates with be sporadic: I can already tell it's gonna be worth the wait.
Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 2/?
(Anonymous) 2015-05-24 05:14 am (UTC)(link)so good. ohmygod.
Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 2/?
(Anonymous) 2015-05-24 04:12 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 2/?
(Anonymous) 2015-05-27 03:16 am (UTC)(link)Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 3/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-09 08:15 am (UTC)(link)When Karen was ten years old she watched a six-fingered nobleman kill her mother.
When Karen was ten years old, she swore revenge.
Karen spent twelve long years training, learning, practicing, fighting. She became the finest blade in the known world, second to none. She dueled for money to live, and drank more of it than she ought to have. She drank to pass the time and drown her dreams. She searched, endlessly, for the six-fingered nobleman who had murdered her mother.
She could not find him anywhere.
A man approached her for a job. This was not unusual. Many people came to her with jobs, offering money, drink, horses, their bodies, in payment. She took what she liked and let them keep what she did not want, or what she deemed they could not afford to lose. She killed, she maimed, she intimidated. She told herself it was justice, she was the woman with the blade. But she was not blindfolded, she could see, oh she could see, and it was only the drink that made her forget momentarily what she had seen.
The man offered her money, lots of money, and said it would be a simple job. A simple kidnapping, a few days, and more money than she’d had in months.
Karen accepted.
Karen regretted it before too long.
Leeland claimed to be working for some mysterious benefactor, a higher power, who had approached him to handle this delicate matter. He had acquired a powerful fighter named Nobu for his strength, a pair of Russian brothers for their ruthlessness, and Karen for her abilities with a sword. Three, Leeland had promised, would be more than enough to subdue and carry off the king and queen’s helpless common-born consort.
Karen and Nobu got along far better with each other than with the others. They disliked the Russians equally, and distrusted Leeland equally. They respected each other as warriors with codes, and shared drinks in the evenings as they discussed their fates of falling in with such dregs.
“This might start a war,” Nobu said one night. “This kidnapping.”
Karen shrugged. “Wars come and go. I need to find the six-fingered nobleman before he dies in some war. He needs to die by my blade, no one else’s.” Karen slammed back another glass.
“Indeed. And I wish you only success in that venture,” Nobu glanced across the inn, where Leeland was drinking alone and the Russians were carousing with a group. “I believe our employer will not be overly considerate with our lives. We are expendable to him, pawns to be discarded when the sacrifice is deemed more profitable than the risk of saving us. Be careful on this mission. I would hate to see your vengeance go unfulfilled.”
Karen did not rankle at his words, as she would have from any other person. He was giving her advice as a fellow warrior, not as a man to a woman he deemed helpless. “Thank you,” she said, and meant it.
Nobu toasted her, and they began their nightly ritual of rhyming couplets. He was teaching her Japanese and she was teaching him Spanish. Their intertwined poetry was atrocious, but it kept them sane during the long nights of avoiding Leeland and the Russians.
Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 4/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-09 08:15 am (UTC)(link)Foggy had grown to love riding.
Life in the castle was … not exactly confining, but restrictive. There were so many official functions to attend, preparations to undergo, rehearsals to rehearse. Foggy had to learn how to bow, whom to bow to, and when, and that was only the beginning. Hundreds of forks were whisked past him until he could identify each by their function and pick them up properly. Seas of fabric were draped around him until he had a wardrobe of every shade. Delegations of tutors instructed him in every political custom of every dignitary who would be attending the official joining ceremony.
And then there was his king and queen. Wilson was often busy with official duties himself, though he tried his best to attend dinner every evening even that was often missed. Vanessa, just as busy as her husband, made time for Foggy. She would pull him away from the linguistics tutor or the chief cook or the bevy of seamstresses and reel him into her private chambers. There, they would examine displays of artworks gifted to her by the nobility of the world.
Eventually, after exhausting her collection, she would lead Foggy to her bed. Wilson would join them, on every occasion, even if it was only to watch from a nearby chair. More often than not he was in the bed beside them, caressing them gently with his huge hands. The favored position of their royal highnesses was to pin Foggy between their bodies,
As the weeks continued, Vanessa waited for signs of a child growing within her. None came, but it was early yet.
Foggy did not love them. He felt a fondness for Vanessa, found pleasure in her company and in pleasing her in bed. Wilson was more difficult for Foggy, fiercely protective of Vanessa and Foggy but harsh with others. Foggy had seen Wilson condemn one of his subjects to death without so much as a flicker of remorse, watched him transition from the throne room to his private chambers without a hint of what he had done not half an hour ago.
So, riding.
Foggy had ridden horses in the village growing up, and he had seldom been alone then. Matt’s arms had been wrapped around his waist nine times out of ten. Foggy’s solitary rides through the kingdom were a faint echo of those rides. He sometimes felt that Matt was with him still, could pretend for an instant that Matt’s arms were around him once more.
Matt was dead at the bottom of the ocean, killed by the Dread Pirate Roberts.
Foggy had persuaded Wilson to place a bounty on Roberts, a staggering sum, for the pirate dead or alive. He knew Matt would have been horrified, but Foggy did not see the point of his new position if he could not indulge himself just a little.
He spent almost all of his influence on helping the poor, the sick, the elderly, the orphaned children and the wounded war veterans. Wilson’s subjects loved Foggy, were starting to bring their grievances to him instead of the King or Queen. It was flattering, and staggering. Foggy endeavored to handle their cases with care and fairness.
Still, to stay sane, Foggy had to make time for himself, away from the palace if possible. He still cooked, cut meat and assisted in the kitchens when possible, but he could sense that his time there was drawing to a close. So riding was what was left to him. It was a fine occupation for a consort. He didn’t even need to travel with guards, as his rides took him through isolated areas of the kingdom and his steed was faster than any in the land.
Foggy thought on these rides. He thought about Matt. He thought about his butcher shop, now in the hands of one of his cousins. He thought about his old customers and their families. He thought about Vanessa and Wilson and having children with them. He thought about fatherhood, or rather, the process of raising children who were of his flesh and blood but not his by right of law. He thought about his future.
The seaside was his usual goal. A few hours from the castle, the bluffs provided an excellent view and a spot to rest his horse before returning to the castle.
An odd assortment was waiting for him one day. They consisted of a smiling man, a man garbed all in red, a pair of scowling men covered in tattoos, and a woman with a sword at her hip.
“Are you lost?” he asked. They were far from any town or village.
“Not at all, consort,” the smiling man said. He turned to the others. “Take him.”
Foggy was seized, something struck the back of his head, and darkness overtook him.
Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 4/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-09 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 4/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-12 12:47 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 4/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-19 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 4/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-24 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: The Princess Bride AU, Part 4/?
(Anonymous) 2015-06-30 02:13 am (UTC)(link)It's so good ugh