It had been twenty years since that fateful ride into the sunset. Twenty wonderful years living peacefully in Guilder, right next to the fire swamps. Yet Buttercup was growing restless. Her mind was lost in a daze of excitement and wonder if she had actually been the same person who lived the adventure once upon a time. Who faught against the odds and won the love of an amazing farmboy. Then her children would point out that she really didn't do much besides be rescued. This was the constant downer of her life.
Phaile, her oldest daughter had been married off a year ago at the age of nineteen. Braden, her second and youngest child of sixteen still remained at home. He was currently being taught how to fence by his father. It was a natural talent, one that Braden couldn't get enough of. His studies were lacking though, as much as both Westley and Buttercup had forced him to read, he was a headstrong youth who often lept before he bothered to look.
Such was the case today, when he came home with another R.O.U.S. across his broad shoulders and about a dozen cuts and bruises.
"Got another one father!" Braden smiled proudly.
Nodding, Westley pulled up the cloth around his neck to block the smell of crisp rat flesh. "Well then, gut it and bring me the hide to tan. I'm sure your mother needs another ratskin rug for the bedroom." He tried to hide the distaste in his voice, but felt he didn't have to with the natural high his son was on. Westley could have told him to jump off a bridge and he would have skipped away as content as could be.
Buttercup watched all this through the window with a small frown on her face. Braden should be courting someone by now. He should have friends, and they shouldn't have to be stuck here in the fireswamp any longer. These were thoughts that Buttercup now had on a daily basis. Then her mind would trail back to Fezzik and Inigo and wonder just how they were doing.
"Evening, my love." Westley smiled as he bent down to place a feather light kiss on her shoulder blade. He knew he was still the luckiest man in the world. Buttercup was beautiful, to him, still the most beautiful woman in both Guilder and Florin. For the first ten years after their escape, Humperdinck had posted pictures of her around the kingdom. Westley had paid a sailor to pick one up when he docked there the first week they were set out. Her likeness was a little off, never a match for the real thing, but still it always made him smile.
"Hello my Westley." She muttered back to him.
"Something troubleing you, Buttercup?" He already knew the response even before she pushed the words past her lips.
"I grow weary of this life. It's ever so dreary in the swamp. I find I'm not even excited by the rats any longer!" Her daughter would be rolling her eyes at her right about now. Buttercup could hear the mocking voice in her head; 'You were always good at pouting, mother.'
"I know dear. Soon we shall leave. I fear Braden needs to be taken care of first."
They both knew what that meant. He had to find his place in life. Yet neither of them knew where that place was. Buttercup would get a faint smile on her face when she though of her son as a farmboy, but she knew Westley wouldn't have that. He loved his children dearly and would fight to get them anything they wanted in life.
Just then, the door opened to reveal a dirty, but still smiling Braden. "I left it out back." he stated as he went to the kitchen to grab an apple. Stopping to watch his parents by the window, his face grew curious as he came up behind them. "What's so interesting?"
Coming out of their trance, Buttercup and Westley turned around and shook their heads.
"Nothing really, just thinking." she stated.
"Anything good?" Braden chimed in.
"Just the usual. Supper needs stirring over the hearth, my son is a mess of bruises, he ruined another one of his shirts and what we're going to do with you." she smiled.
"I would imagine you would feed me to the R.O.T.S.'s if you could get the chance." He joked.
"What do you want to do for the rest of your life, Braden?" It was Westley, taking this more seriously than his wife.
With a shake of his head, Braden pulled up a chair at the nearby table and bit into the apple. "Pfhatever ift ifs, ift hafst to be phun." As he spoke, tiny bits of chewed up apple sprayed the floor in front of him.
"Swallow before you speak, Braden!" Buttercup sighed.
"Yefs mofther." He sighed and cleared his throat.
"...and get ready for dinner. You smell like a rat." Westley put in.
As Braden sulked off to the well in the back yard, both Buttercup and Westley burst out laughing.
"I think it's time to track down our old friends." Westley stated.
Buttercup raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and why is that?" She couldn't seem to totally contain the excitement in her voice.
"Perhaps Inigo and Fezzik have need for a sturdy young lad." Westley replied.
"Perhaps they do..." Buttercup began, but her mind was already trailing off to the promise of adventure...
Phaile, her oldest daughter had been married off a year ago at the age of nineteen. Braden, her second and youngest child of sixteen still remained at home. He was currently being taught how to fence by his father. It was a natural talent, one that Braden couldn't get enough of. His studies were lacking though, as much as both Westley and Buttercup had forced him to read, he was a headstrong youth who often lept before he bothered to look.
Such was the case today, when he came home with another R.O.U.S. across his broad shoulders and about a dozen cuts and bruises.
"Got another one father!" Braden smiled proudly.
Nodding, Westley pulled up the cloth around his neck to block the smell of crisp rat flesh. "Well then, gut it and bring me the hide to tan. I'm sure your mother needs another ratskin rug for the bedroom." He tried to hide the distaste in his voice, but felt he didn't have to with the natural high his son was on. Westley could have told him to jump off a bridge and he would have skipped away as content as could be.
Buttercup watched all this through the window with a small frown on her face. Braden should be courting someone by now. He should have friends, and they shouldn't have to be stuck here in the fireswamp any longer. These were thoughts that Buttercup now had on a daily basis. Then her mind would trail back to Fezzik and Inigo and wonder just how they were doing.
"Evening, my love." Westley smiled as he bent down to place a feather light kiss on her shoulder blade. He knew he was still the luckiest man in the world. Buttercup was beautiful, to him, still the most beautiful woman in both Guilder and Florin. For the first ten years after their escape, Humperdinck had posted pictures of her around the kingdom. Westley had paid a sailor to pick one up when he docked there the first week they were set out. Her likeness was a little off, never a match for the real thing, but still it always made him smile.
"Hello my Westley." She muttered back to him.
"Something troubleing you, Buttercup?" He already knew the response even before she pushed the words past her lips.
"I grow weary of this life. It's ever so dreary in the swamp. I find I'm not even excited by the rats any longer!" Her daughter would be rolling her eyes at her right about now. Buttercup could hear the mocking voice in her head; 'You were always good at pouting, mother.'
"I know dear. Soon we shall leave. I fear Braden needs to be taken care of first."
They both knew what that meant. He had to find his place in life. Yet neither of them knew where that place was. Buttercup would get a faint smile on her face when she though of her son as a farmboy, but she knew Westley wouldn't have that. He loved his children dearly and would fight to get them anything they wanted in life.
Just then, the door opened to reveal a dirty, but still smiling Braden. "I left it out back." he stated as he went to the kitchen to grab an apple. Stopping to watch his parents by the window, his face grew curious as he came up behind them. "What's so interesting?"
Coming out of their trance, Buttercup and Westley turned around and shook their heads.
"Nothing really, just thinking." she stated.
"Anything good?" Braden chimed in.
"Just the usual. Supper needs stirring over the hearth, my son is a mess of bruises, he ruined another one of his shirts and what we're going to do with you." she smiled.
"I would imagine you would feed me to the R.O.T.S.'s if you could get the chance." He joked.
"What do you want to do for the rest of your life, Braden?" It was Westley, taking this more seriously than his wife.
With a shake of his head, Braden pulled up a chair at the nearby table and bit into the apple. "Pfhatever ift ifs, ift hafst to be phun." As he spoke, tiny bits of chewed up apple sprayed the floor in front of him.
"Swallow before you speak, Braden!" Buttercup sighed.
"Yefs mofther." He sighed and cleared his throat.
"...and get ready for dinner. You smell like a rat." Westley put in.
As Braden sulked off to the well in the back yard, both Buttercup and Westley burst out laughing.
"I think it's time to track down our old friends." Westley stated.
Buttercup raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and why is that?" She couldn't seem to totally contain the excitement in her voice.
"Perhaps Inigo and Fezzik have need for a sturdy young lad." Westley replied.
"Perhaps they do..." Buttercup began, but her mind was already trailing off to the promise of adventure...