Disclaimer: ...Do you really think that I own Gankutsuou or The Princess Bride in any form? (scoffs) Yeah, right. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, now would I? XD They belong to Gonzo and Mahiro Maeda, and William Goldman and the Morgenstern estate, respectively. But I'll put in my bid for the Count! XD
Plot bunnies are evil things, children. Things like this result when they won't leave you alone.
Gankutsuou: The Princess Bride
Prologue: A Bedtime Story, of Sorts
RedCrow1120
Waking up, for Valentine de Villefort, was not much unlike surfacing after a long time spent underwater; it was a slow process, and hard to do, because staying under seemed so much more appealing. She knew, though, that she was not fully recovered from the poison that had been laced in her drinks as of late, and that there was still the risk of not being able to wake up again, if she didn't do so now.
So, slowly, steadily, she rose up through the layers of consciousness, until she finally, lethargically opened her eyes, the lids feeling crushingly heavy.
Even though she'd been here weeks, now – she wasn't sure exactly how long, as she'd been asleep a good part of the time she'd been here – she still couldn't help the slight panic that came whenever she looked around after first waking up. It came from the unfamiliar surroundings, which would always seem that way to her, no matter how long she was there.
But whenever her eyes fell on her grandfather in his corner, it would instantly subside. He was perhaps the one thing truly familiar to her, and she felt at peace, safe with him watching over her, statuesque, almost like the guardian gargoyles of Notre Dame.
And just then, Maximilien came in the door, carrying a tray of steaming food.
Valentine couldn't help but smile a bit at his entrance. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed right when she needed it, without her needing to voice it; sometimes, even before she knew it herself. He was so well attuned to her, for having known her such a short time. As she thought about this, her hand unconsciously drifted to the small pewter cross he'd given her, hanging on a delicate chain around her neck.
Maximilien grinned broadly at her before setting the tray down on the table and pulling up a chair. "How are you feeling today, Madame Valentine?"
"Better," she said, simply, because she could find no other words to accurately describe how she felt. She didn't feel nearly as bad as she had when her stepmother had been gradually poisoning her, but not quite as well as she had been when she was at full health.
"That's good to hear," he admitted. "You're not sleeping nearly as much as you were when I first bought you here from Paris. I think we could consider that a definite improvement." He smiled warmly at her before turning to her grandfather in his close-by corner. "And are you feeling well today as well, Monsieur Nortier?"
Valentine watched her grandfather's face closely; even then, it was hard to see his eyes close. She was about to convey this to Maximilien, but he nodded just after her grandfather's response and responded in turn, "I am happy to hear that, sir." Valentine couldn't help but wonder how long she'd been asleep, that Maximilien could understand her grandfather.
She didn't get more time to ponder on that, though; Maximilien turned around in his chair and grabbed the tray, explaining, "Julie made lunch for you." He waited a moment for her to sit up and get adjusted and comfortable before gently laying the tray on her lap.
Valentine felt her stomach growl at the sight of the food laid before her; there was a bowl of a brownish-colored soup with sprigs of green floating on top, and three triangles of something white wrapped in green, the way it looked, set on a plate. All entrees were steaming hot and looked so good... but she couldn't get over the fact that she didn't know quite what was before her. Tenatively, she commented, "This all looks so good. Do you know what it is?"
"Julie said that they're recipies from Eastern Space. If I remember what she told me, the soup is made from a bean paste, and the triangles are rice balls, of sorts, wrapped in dried seaweed." (1)
Valentine balked inwardly at the description of what lay before her; it looked delicious, but sounded disgusting, frankly. She gave the tray another quick once-over, beginning to wonder if it still looked as good as it had before, and noticed something she hadn't before; a nondescript, leather-bound book laying innocently in a corner of the tray. She picked it up, looked it over quickly, then turned back to Maximilien. "What is this?" she asked, holding the book up.
Maximilien's broad, almost idiotic grin softened a bit at the sight of the book, and his eyes seemed to warm. "Ah, that," he said, fondly, as he took the book from her hands. "Julie must've snuck this on the tray when I wasn't looking." He caressed the worn spine of the book fondly. "My father always read this to me when I was sick, and his father read it to him whenhe was sick."
"What is it about?" Valentine asked, hesitant, yet curiousity piqued.
"Fencing, fighting, torutre, poison, chases, escapes; giants, hunters, bad men, good men, beautiful women, brave men, cowards, strong men; hate, revenge, pain, death; lies, truths; passion, true love, miracles..." (2)
Valentine thought it over a moment. She was really too old for bedtime stories, but... She looked down at the tray again, suddenly feeling shy. "...Would you maybe read it to me? It sounds interesting," she added quickly, by way of explanation, not looking at him.
As such, she missed the way his head snapped in her direction, and the slightly stunned look he gave her.
Maximilien had truly not been expecting this; maybe Julie had, and, being the little devil his older sister was, had snuck it on the tray for that exact reason. It wasn't an unwelcome surprise, though. Day by day, ever since she had woken up from her poison-tainted sleep, she opened up more and more to him, and at times, he felt like a gardener slowly coaxing a rose to bloom. (3)
"But of course," he replied, sitting back in his chair. Noticing that she hadn't touched the food yet, he commented, "It i does /i sound disgusting, but it's actually quite delicious, not to mention good for you. And it will help you recover your strength."
As he said this, he opened the aged book and flipped through the pages. "Ahh; here we are," he announced a little while later, satisfied, opening the book to the page he'd found. "The Princess Bride: S. Morgenstern's Classic Tale of True Love and High Adventure. Chapter One: The Bride." (4)
In case you couldn't tell, I'm a sucker for Maximilien/Valentine fluff. The movie's opening seemed like something that Maximilien would do for Valentine, not to mention that I found it incredibly sweet and a good opening in general, so it seemed like a perfect opportunity for merging.
Anyways, hope you'll stick with this; next chapter's when we get into the story-within-a-story!
...And yes, I know that the title sucks. Any other suggestions?
(1) Yeah, I know this is a little out of place, potentially. Bear with me; I'm in withdrawal here. And yes, the following sentence is the general reaction to Japanese food.
(2) Semi-paraphrased from the intro to William Goldman's u The Princess Bride /u ; book and movie both.
(3) Paraphrased from endling's "Entertain Me".
(4) Yes, that is the actual title of the book. XD
