Author's notes: thanx so much for your support and for givin me my first eva review Waverly!! ^_^
( *mumbles under breath* one lousy review, where are the rest?!? just jokes!! I'm just still wrapped that I got any and that sumone actually read the story at all *lol* )
I might try to write a sequel someday Waverly, but I don't really have the skill for that yet, so I think I will just keep plodding along with this idea, which I find to be a lot of fun. I may not do another fic, I'm just writing this one because I wanted to have a go at one and get it outa my system! :)
I hope this isn't to confusing for anyone, but I'm going to try and write flashbacks or fill-ins for parts of the story that we never saw in the movie. That way I can keep re-telling the story we know but adding to it as well. Hope u enjoy it!
Chapter 2
Sweat pooled behind his mask and ran down his face, blurring his vision.
He ignored it.
The back of his neck burned from constant exposure to the sun.
He ignored it.
Strong gusts of wind clawed at his clothing and lashed his cheeks with loose dirt that had fallen from the cliff face.
He ignored it.
He retightened his grip on the massive rope, hearing his leather gloves creaking in protest, and continued to haul his body upward as quickly as he could.
He would resist far worse things than these for her; they were trivial when compared to the force that drove him. True love would give him the strength to overcome them, just as it was giving him the strength to climb this rope with unmatched speed.
The problem was not one of will power he had been given more of that than he could ever imagine existed. Nor was it a problem of fitness as he had almost superhuman stamina from years of sword play and adventure on the high seas, although that too was being pushed to the limit by this vast effort, and his body would surly pay the price for it. No his biggest problem was that he was afraid of heights.
Mentally this was really starting to take its toll. At first he had managed to keep it locked away, held at bay by his conscious thoughts, but eventually it had started to brake free again, and now it was trying to consume him. His mind was in a constant state of vertigo that threatened to overwhelm him. The vastness of the void bellow seemed to beckon to him, draw him from the rope, making him feel as though he was already falling. He shook his head violently to try to clear it, but with no success.
He had tried so hard to develop every facet of himself so he would be prepared to deal with anything that stood between him and happiness with his sweet Buttercup, but what was the one thing he could not alter about himself?. His genetic phobia of heights. And what was the first thing fate had thrown at him? Why a cliff so large it had been known to send people insane. 'Just typical really' he muttered beneath the shrieking of the wind.
He would not be defeated by this, he would find a way to beat it.
In order to survive the present, he turned his thoughts to the past. Westly's mind pealed back the years to expose memories of another time, and another more peaceful life……
-Flashback-
A gentle breeze pushed waves of air across the surrounding fields of wheat, the stalks made golden and amber as the sun began its inevitable plunge towards the horizon. Westly the farm boy sat atop an old and weathered stock fence, made centuries before his birth, cut from a forest that no longer even existed. He sat and watched. All his attention on the lithe figure sitting on the chestnut mare that galloped along the nearby hillock. He drank in the sight, enjoying every moment.
He must be the luckiest guy on earth he realised, because even with her hair tangled by the wind Buttercup was probably the most beautiful girl alive, made even more so by the natural beauty surrounding her, and he alone was the one able to sit here watching. How did he ever get so lucky?, he didn't care, all he knew was he would not trade places with anyone in the kingdom right now, this sight was more valuable than the kings whole treasury.
The mare raced along and down the slope to the edge of the woods where Westly could see the horses magnificent muscles bunching and uncoiling at Buttercups command, taking them around hidden obstacles and over fallen branches.
The power and speed of the animal betraying its good breeding, and the way that it responded to her slightest touch showed that a bond had formed between them over the years. Westly knew this to be the result of Buttercups gentle and caring nature that she showed not just to the mare, but to all animals.
At last the trees leaves began to loose their colour as the final rays of the sun played upon them, and horse and rider headed for home. He watched her approach swiftly then dismount with an ease that would make the most veteran riders envious. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and walked toward him.
He lowered his gaze and fought to control his breathing as his heart began to pound in his chest, just like it always did when she was close to him. Even the simple farmers clothes could barley conceal her gorgeous figure as she stood there before him, he doubted even wearing a potato sack would hide it. A slight smile played across his lips, this being the only sign of the overwhelming urge he felt to take her into his arms.
'Take my horse to the stable, boy, and be sure to give it a good rub down. Also oil my riding boots, I want them ready by morning." She said as she slipped out of the boots and began to walk barefoot back to the farmhouse.
'As you wish' was his only reply to the retreating form.
He did not take offence to her brisk manor, he knew why she acted the way she did. Her parents were dead now, and she was the lady of the house, so she had to act like it. That was why she called him 'boy' and only ever treated him in a way that constantly reminded him that he was a servant.
She could not allow anyone to see her as anything but the boss and owner of the farm, if they treated like the little girl she still was, her already tenuous grip on the situation would be shattered. She had to stay in control of it all. If she lost the farm she would have lost everything. It was the only thing that she had left of her former life, and all that she had left from her parents.
Since her father was gone, westly had to do the extra work load, Buttercup had offered to pay him double, but he refused. They both knew that she could not afford it. And so he worked hard from dawn till dusk every day and she did her best to keep it all in order. She never questioned him as to why he was willing to stay and help her so much, perhaps she didn't know?
His feelings for her had grown steadily over the time he had known her, all those years ago when he first took on work at the farm. It wasn't just her looks that had attracted him (although they did drive him wild most of the time), she was just such a queer girl that he couldn't help but find her interesting. It was those same peculiar little traits that made her mysterious and so unique, he could never quite figure her out, she dressed like a tom boy and yet she walked like a model.
In any case he would not leave her. Her world had been turned upside down and he was the only constant that remained. Even though his feelings for her had completely blossomed into a true and passionate love, he would not tell her. She needed him to be the farm boy now more than ever. One day when she was ready, she would see how he felt. Until then he would wait.
Westly picked up the boots and led the horse back the stable were he slept. He was tired from the days work. His hands were blistered and his arms were heavy.
-End Flashback-
….his hands were blistered and his arms were heavy. The man in black continued to move quickly, hand over hand, pulling himself up towards the kidnappers.
He was near the top now and so he risked a glance upward, despite the vertigo. His prey were scrambling over the top and he knew he was in trouble; he had to get up there as fast as he could before they could take advantage of his vulnerable position. Gritting his teeth he forced himself to try harder.
(Meanwhile at the top)
3 solum heads peered over the edge of the largest cliff know to man and watched the scene below in amazement. A man, a normal man was climbing up after them. How was this so? Everybody knew that only giants could hope to have the strength and stupidity to climb this particular rope and survive. Apparently not everybody knew. Someone had forgotten to tell this guy.
(Back on the cliff face)
The rope suddenly went slack in his hands. Countless armed conflicts as the dread pirate Roberts had given him the reflexes of a jungle cat, and he put those to good use now. The rope continued to fall away beside him as his hands shot out in a blur of motion and found holds on the almost sheer rock in front of him. Nice move cutting the rope he thought to himself. Ruthless but also very effective. It gave him an insight to the people he would face when he got to the top.
A tinny avalanche of equally tinny rocks fell into his knee high black boots, as his feet scrambled to find purchase bellow him. When he had finally achieved this he took a short moment to relax and rest his arms. They would all be too stunned at him still being alive to try anything else just yet he hoped.
Have to hurry now. He repositioned his feet higher and pushed upwards with his legs until he could reach new hand holds above, using them to do the work rather than his arms. He knew that his thigh muscles were much larger than his arms already heavily fatigued bicep muscles, and so it was better to use them to get him to the top.
His arms began to tremble just then, now that they were not in constant use. He caught snippets of conversation from above as he climbed. It seems he now had to face their swordsman when he reached the top. A Blademaster by the sounds of it. And yet he could barely stop his arms from shaking. 'This should be interesting' he said quietly to no one in particular.
Summoning an inner reserve of strength from his body, he continued climbing towards what he knew would be the fight of his life. Strange as it was, he could almost sense the man's skill from here. He had very little chance of winning he realised just then, but then again he thought he had little chance of overcoming the cliff as well.
If he could make his opponent believe that he was still in perfect shape to fight, he might gain a slight psychological edge. One thing was for sure, if he was to be beaten, he would not go down easily.
To be continued….
Author's notes: why bother, No one actually reads this bit do they? *lol*
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