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Beamish had developed a dislike of princes over the years. It was mostly to do with his girlfriends running off with them, but there was that far too likeable smile that he hated far too much, and the impeccable manners, and well, the list goes on. It's so much easier to say that Beamish didn't like princes very much without going into the details.

Okay, so his last girlfriend hadn't run off with a prince. She'd run off with seven dwarves. But that wasn't the point. His previous girlfriend, Cinders, had run off with a prince and changed her name to Cinderella. Beamish was sure that the prince only wanted her for her shoes - he also thought that Cinders stole most of her shoes, knowing for a fact that she couldn't afford them - but nevertheless, he wasn't invited to the wedding. He was a bit disappointed about that. He would have liked to have seen what dress she had been wearing, and possibly tried it on a few times…

Having only narrowly escaped being cooked for dinner, Beamish was still a little out of breath by the time he reached the castle on the hill. He didn't know how he was going to get in, who lived there, or even what he was planning to do once inside, but he walked up to the drawbridge.

"Halt!" barked someone unseen by Beamish. Beamish obeyed. After all, if an unseen, loud and powerful voice was to shout at you, would you really disobey? He stood as still as it was possible for him to stand whilst catching his breath from the long run up the hillside. After a while he began to feel foolish, just standing there, with nothing to do…he began to fidget.

"I said 'Halt'. So bloody well stay halted will you!" said the unseen person. Beamish reasoned that the voice was coming from somewhere around the top of the castle wall. He looked up, but still couldn't see anyone.

"What am I supposed to do? Just stand here?"

"Erm, well, could you take a couple of steps to your right so that you're standing on the 'X'," said the unseen person, "it would really help our aim."

Beamish took a couple of steps to the left and found himself standing on a big red 'X'. He was a bit worried about this fact until he realised that 'X' marked the spot where the treasure was buried. Why on earth would they want him to stand on top of the castle treasury?

"Now what?" he shouted.

"Err, hang on a minute…I can't find the right page…"

Beamish wondered what it was he was supposed to hang on to, he thought that perhaps he was supposed to hang onto the 'X', but that would have required him to bend down, and he'd already been shouted at once for moving. Beamish hung onto his breath instead.

"…ah, here it is, sorry for the delay, I've never had to challenge someone at the gates before. It's all rather new to me I'm afraid, the usual guard gave me this book to tell me what to do, but the index is bloody useless…" the guard coughed before beginning again in a commanding voice "Friend or Foe?"

Beamish didn't know what a "foe" was, he thought perhaps it was something you'd put on your toes, but then he thought that it was a bit of a stupid question to ask someone if that was the case.

"Err...what's a 'foe'?" asked Beamish.

"Don't really know," replied the guard, "but, if you are one, you get this barrel of - well I presume, it's tar, but it's a bit too hot. It's aimed perfectly with the catapult to hit the X. Thanks for standing on it for me by the way. Otherwise, if you were a 'foe' I'd have to re-aim the thing, and I'd probably never hit you."

Beamish looked down at the X he was standing on. That explained the tar stains then. Beamish considered stepping off the X, but then decided that the asiest answer was to say;

"Friend. Absolutely, totally, utterly and definaltely - friend."

"That's OK then. I wouldn't have liked to have had to hit you with this barrel of boiling tar. Hang on down there for a moment."

Beamish waited. The castle gates began to open, and slow though their progress was, he was soon inside the castle courtyard.

Beamish didn't get to walk very far *into* the courtyard though. He took a couple of steps in, and was then greeted by the wrong end of a sword. There was one guard standing there in badly fitted armour, and holding his sword like he'd never actually used it before. Beamish thought about laughing, but he was still at te *wrong* end of a sword which was dangerously close to his throat. Okay, so the guard had to stand on his tip-toes to do this, and didn't look any more menacing for doing so.

Beamish noted that the guard was holding a dog-eared book in his other hand. The guard noticed and quickly tried to hide it behind his back.

"So, erm, what was it that you wanted?" asked the guard.

"Don't know," said Beamish, "I didn't think I'd get tis far."

"You mean, coming through the woods to get here?"

Beamish thought that answering that he didn't think he'd get inside the castle would put some serious doubt in the guards as to being a 'friend' rather than a 'foe'. So instead he just agreed with the guard. He'd learnt from personal experience that it was always better to agree with a guard when they had a sword at your throat. No matter how badly it was held.

"I'm a bit forgetful, I'm afraid," said Beamish, a plan forming in his head, "perhaps if you told me I *could* be here for, then it might jolt my memory."

The guard thought about it for a moment.

"You could either be delivering a message to the princess...or...you've come to kill the prince. Then again, seeing as how you're a 'friend' then I doubt you're here to settle a score with the prince..." The guard eyed Beamish suspiciously.

Beamish decided he was delivering a message to the princess.

"That's it! I'm delivering a message to Princess - ermm, what's her name again?" Beamish tried to look as stupid and forgetful as possible. He was alarmed by how easily the look came to him.

"Cinderella" replied the guard.

Beamish was shocked. Cinderella? Could it be his Cinders? The girl who had run off with a prince over a stolen glass slipper.

The guard didn't seem to notice that Beamish recognised the name as he led him out of the courtyard and through the corridors of the castle.

Beamish asked absently "Who's going to guard the gates while you're gone?"

The guard didn't even turn as he answered. It was taking almost all of his intelligence to remember the route to Cinderella's rooms. "Well, the other guards all took off and left me here, but the books told me what to do in cases like this." The guard proudly brandished the book once more, it's tattered cover almost falling off. "I've set up a dummy on the castle wall so that people *think* that there's a guard there." The guard was obviously very proud of this, but now that Beamish didn't have a sword at his throat, he didn't feel quite so obliged to agree with the guard.

"Won't people notice it doesn't move?" The guard smiled even more, having thought this problem through in his own way.

"No, people will just think it's a very very disciplined guard. Anyway, you're the 1st person to come by in day's, so what are the chances of anyone else coming by soon?"

Beamish didn't get a chance to answer as before he could open his mouth, te guard had opened a door to a room and pushed him inside.

The room was empty.

Beamish reasoned he was waiting for Cinderella to appear.

Knowing how long it could take Cinderella to get here he decided to make use of his time. At first he just looked around the room, but a few seconds later he was rummaging around in her drawers. Just as he was about to try on some of the, erm, *more interesting*, items he found, Beamish heard a door open and close behind him. Before Cinderella could notice what he'd been doing (or thinking of doing), he slammed the drawer shut - straight onto his fingers. He was damned if he was going to let her catch him doing it *again*.

Cinderella had walked into the room and was staring at him. It wasn't a nice stare.

Beamish tried to turn his grimace of pain into a smile.

Cinderella didn't smile back. She scowled.

Beamish hated meeting past girlfriends, especially when they ditched you for a prince.

"Beamish" said the princess. From the way she said it she obviously felt the same way.

"Cinders."

"You mean, Princess Cinderella." she snapped.

Yep, now Beamish knew for certain that she wasn't glad to see him. Well, Beamish wasn't particularly glad to see her either.

"Just *princess*, not *queen*?" asked Beamish as sarcastically and hurtfully as possible.

"Is it my fault that the old man isn't dead yet! I don't think so!"

Beamish wrinkled his brow, something, he thought, is amiss. His Cinders wouldn't have said something like that. There was definately something wrong. Shame he couldn't pinpoint it.

It was only after the princess had stomped around the room a few times, thrown a few things at him and then collapsed in a sobbing mass on the floor that Beamish that thought to ask what was wrong.

Cinders looked up at him, not Princess Cinderella, but Cinders, the shoe stealing girl who had a habit of leaving her shoes on stairs where boyfriends could trip over them and break their necks, leaving her to claim on the life-insurance policy.

Beamish got the impression that she wanted him to say something comforting. Unfortunately he didn't know anything remotely comforting so he thought it wisest to keep his gob shut.

"Gervais, is, is - " another bout of sobbing. Beamish wondered breifly why princess's had to *sob*, why couldn't they just *cry*. A nanosecond later, Beamish recognised that, that was supposed to be his que to say;

"Gervais?" inquired Beamish, only a nanosecond off cue. The princess didn't otice the time delay.

"Gervais is my husband, the prince." Cinders stopped talking to sob some more. Beamish didn't hear any recognisable cue for him to say something, so he didn't. It was just as well he didn't because only a couple of sobs later Cinders continued. "He's been cheating on me!"

Beamish definately recognised this cue. "Who with?"

"A crazy lady called Snow White. She left some poor sod for seven dwarves, claiming that the Queen was going to kill for being the *most beautiful in all the land*, then left the dwarves for my husband, thinking, I presume, that if *she* married him, then the Queen wouldn't kill a member of her family."

So, not only had Snow White left him for seven dwarves, she'd left the dwarves for the prince. Beamish hated that prince. Now he'd directly stolen one of his girlfriends, and indirectly stolen the other, whilst cheating on the first. Beamish realised he still had to ask the inevitable question.

"For how long?"

"Since before we were married. He confessed it all last night."

How long had Snow White been cheating on _him_ then? Since before she ran off with the dwarves? Or after? Beamish wished he knew the date of the wedding, but since he hadn't been invited he didn't know. It took Beamish a while to realise that Cinders was still talking.

"...and you know what else?" Beamish jumped, totally unprepared for the question. Thankfully Cinders wasn't to bothered that he jumped a mile in the air. She continued. "He even told me that he's been trying my dressess on behind my back! Can you imagine that, Beamish? Trying on *my* dressess!" Beamish tried to look shocked, but he really couldn't blame the prince for that one, he'd done it more than once, not that she'd ever found out. "...at least *you* never did that! I just can't get over the humiliation of it all..." Beamish prepared his ears for automatic shut down. He knew for certain that no more input would be required of him from here onwards. The princess wouldn't have listened to anything he'd have to say, not that he could get a word in edgeways...

Eventually, Cinders stopped sobbing...it took her a while, but eventually she did, in fact, stop. Beamish was glad. He wasn't sure just *how* much more of that noise he could have taken.

"So, what was all that fuss over the King, then? You *really* bit my head off about that."

"Gervais want's the throne, who wouldn't, it was one of the two reasons why I married him in the first place."

"You ditched me for a prince for only *two* reasons?"

"...Yeah..." Cinders at least had the decency to look slightly embarresed by this.

Beamish gave her a look which forced her to tell him the two reasons whether she wanted to or not. "Well, first of all, it was the thought that, well, his dad's getting on a bit now, shouldn't be much longer 'till the inevitable happens...and second of all, I could buy as many shoes as I wanted."

Beamish decided that there must be something wrong with him if *all* of his girlfriends had some sort of strange obsession. After all, what attracted him to them in the first place...?

"So, what are you going to do now?" asked Beamish.

"I don't know," said Cinders, "what *can* I do?"

"You could leave him."

Cinders did not react as well as he'd expected her to. "What! And give up all those shoes! Beamish, are you mad??? I can't do that, I just can't - " Before Beamish could say another word she added "I now think that he's a stuck up, offensive p***k, and would *love* to get even with him..."

Not that she actually would, thought Beamish. Cinders didn't have the nerve to go through with anything serious, well, she wouldn't do anything that *Beamish* would consider serious. He shuddered at the thought.

Beamish backtracked through his thoughts. He'd missed something...important.

First of all, why did Gervais want the throne so badly?
Secondly, why was he in such a hurry?

When he asked Cinder's she said she didn't know, Gervais didn't tell her anything. Well, apart from how *nice* her dresses were, and how much more he liked one fabric over another...

So, if the prince didn't tell her much, how did she find out he was having an affair?

"The Queen told me. How she knew I don't know, but she knew. She knows a lot. She even knew that Snow White had ditched her boyfriend - I wonder who he was - and run off with seven dwarves. She's the main source of all the factually based gossip in the area."

Hmm, thought Beamish, perhaps *she* can help...

...leaving Cinders lying in a heap on the floor he marched out of the room, found the guard who had brought him up, and demanded to see the Queen.

The guard was a bit startled by this fact.

On the way to see the Queen, Beamish asked "So, how many guards *are* there? I've only seen you so far - "

The guard entered a bit too sharply for Beamish not to become suspicious. "I am not permitted to divulge such information," barked the guard. Beamish gathered that, that mean't that there was only the one guard there, namely himself.

Beamish asked where the other guards on the gate had gotten too.

"Prince Gervais said they all needed a break, so he sent them off on a holiday. I would have been with them, but guess who drew the short straw and had to stay?"

Beamish was by now very, very suspicious. Who would send off all but one of their guards? There just *had* to be a reason for that, Beamish wished he knew what it was.

The first thing he noticed when he walked into the room was the mirror. It wasn't the fact that it kept changing colours when viewed from slightly different angles, so much as the fact that he couldn't see his reflection in it. Not that Beamish was a budgie-imitator at all, he just found it very unnerving.

The second thing he noticed was the queen. Then he wondered why he hadn't noticed *her* first. Beamish couldn't quite put his finger on what it was about her that struck him so. Well, perhaps he *could* have put his finger on it, but he might have never gotten it back. Beamish tried his best to keep his fingers to himself.

The Queen turned to him and smiled. Beamish felt dizzy, but he wasn't sure why. He wished that he wasn't in fear for his fingers so he could put his finger on what it was about the Queen that did this too him, as well as finding out exactly what affect she was actually having. Beamish was no longer sure of anything. All he could think about was fingers and where to put them. He tried his best to keep them by his sides.

It was a test of wills that he knew he was bound to lose. But he kept on trying anyway...

The Queen looked satisfied with the effect she was having on him, and, after smiling again for further effect she chanted;

"Mirror, mirror,
"On the wall,
"Where is my son and his Snow White whore?"

The mirror changed, showing a scene in the woods. Two people were in the scene. The Queen frowned. She was not happy that parts of the scene going on in the woods were censored. From what Beamish could see, he was *very* glad that it was censored. He didn't actually *want* to be watching this, and yet he couldn't stop himself. He closed his eyes, found them drifting open, then closed them again even tighter.

The Queen laughed at him.

Beamish opened his eyes. The woodland scene had thankfully vanished from the mirror, and Beamish was left realising that if he held his fingers any tighter to his sides he'd cut off the circulation to half of his body. Thankfully, whatever had come over him before, had passed, and he was able to wriggle his fingers without worrying too much about where they might wriggle off to.

Eventually he got up the nerve to speak.

"So, Snow White was right, you have been spying on her."

The Queen turned to him. "Of course. My son has been cheating on Cinderella with that woman. Cinderella is such a *nice* girl - well, apart from that shoe thing - and I can't just let him do that to her. Besides, he's plotting to kill my husband, the King."

Beamish was surprised at the flippancy of that remark. He would have thought that the saftey of her husband would have been more important than Cinderella. He didn't really want to remind the Queen that Cinders had left *him* for her son, then again being left, he supposed, was better than being cheated on.

"Does that mirror show you *everything*?" asked Beamish.

"Everything I choose to see. Didn't you know that I am te source of all the rumours you hear that are based on a fact. I can see anywhere with this mirror. I saw Snow White leave you and I saw what she was doing *before* she left you. I've even seen one of her *excuses* for leaving you...just how many sheep did that shepherd have Beamish?"

"21" answered Beamish automatically "not that I spent all my time up there counting them or anything..."

There was a gleam in the Queens eyes. Restrained laughter. "Of course you didn't, Beamish. I *know* you weren't just *counting* them."

Beamish went a bit pink round the edges. If she'd seen that then could she have seen...

The Queen nodded her head as if she'd read his mind.

Beamish suddenly regretted just about everything he'd done when he thought no-one would see. He'd always wondered how those rumours had gotten out.

Beamish tried to recover his self-control. "Gervais is trying to kill the King? How?"

"Oh, just the usual poisoning, the occasional knife in the dark. He once pushed him down the stairs. Nothing that's been successful, and nothing that I can't handle. Don't worry, the King is safe."

"So why have all the guards been sent away?"

"I suggested it to him. Poor lad, he thinks he's got the chance of a life-time. I thought it best that there would be no witnesses to the events later today."

Beamish did not gain a great deal of confidence from this fact.

Then again, if he could help the Queen in stiching up a prince who'd ruined his life twice...he asked.

The Queen gave him an apple. Beamish looked at it blankly. An apple? He could help using an apple? Beamish raised one eyebrow in question.

"Give it to Snow White. It'll knock her out for a couple of hours. We need to make sure she's out of the way."

On hearing that, Beamish had second thoughts about eating the apple.

"Gervais is bringing Snow White back to the castle later on, they're going to try and knock off the King today, so I want you waiting for them by the gates. Tell Gervais that Cinderella has hung herself or something, he still feels enough for her to leave Snow White at the gate and go running off. Even if he only wan'ts to make sure that it's true. Then give Snow White the apple and lock her in a room somewhere. Then, if you want to see what happens next you'd better come to the throne room. The King is waiting there for Gervais. Is that clear?" She didn't wait for a reply. "Good, then go off and wait for them to arrive."

Beamish was ushered out of the room.

It was cold on the castles ramparts, so, when he saw them approach, he was glad of the run down to the court yard.

Gervais and Snow White were surprised to see him, especially Snow White.

Beamish decided to deliver the *terrible* news. Hoping he was a good enough actor to fool the prince, and hoping that Cinders had gotten out of her room - otherwise the prince, upon seeing it was not true might take matters into his own hands. Beamish didn't want that to happen.

"Gervais -" the prince frowned at him. Beamish realised that you don't call princes by their first names when you'd only met them once before, and that time you gave them a bloody nose. Beamish started again.

"Prince Gervais, I have terrible news. I am afraid that Princess Cinderella has hung herself." Beamish tried to look as sad and humble as he could. Even with his head bowed slighlt he good see the gleam of excitement in the princes eyes.

The princes voiced sounded chocked with grief. He was obviously a good actor. "Really? Why?"

"My Prince, she said she just couldn't handle the thought of her dressess being abused in such a way and she just couldn't carry on...not even for the shoes."

The prince lept up in delight, then ran off to see this *terrible tragedy* for himself. That left Beamish with Snow White.

"Here," said Beamish, holding out the apple, "for while you wait. I was going to eat it, but I lost all my appetite when I heard the terrible news."

Snow White took the apple, holding it greedily in her hands. She took a bite, started to choke, then fell in a heap on the floor. Beamish dragged her off to a room somwhere and locked her in. Then he went off to the throne room.

Beamish was horrified when he got there. He was too late. Gervais had already murdered the King. Either that, or it was a *very* realistic, blood covered dummy sitting in the throne. It was the image of Gervais holding a bloody knife that made him realise it wasn't a dummy. They were too late!

"Oh come now, Beamish, you didn't think I'd run off to Cinderella and *then* come here did you?" the prince sounded smug.

The Queen walked into the room, followed by Cinders.

"He didn't think you would, Gervais, but *I* did." the Queen looked at the dead King, and smiled.

Smiled?

Cinders looked like she was going to throw up, and ran out of the room. Beamish was of a mind to join her.

The prince looked astonished. "You mean you *let* me kill him? Mother, how could you do that to father..."

"He's not your father."

Now that took Gervais aback.

"He's not?"

"No, your father is somewhere else. The real King is not dead. He," she indicated the corpse, "was, well, Gervais, your father and I decided that 15 affairs were enough, so I left him. I don't know what *he* was complaining about. He'd had far more than 15. But that man, whom you always thought was your father, was my 16th affair. It is possible that you were his son, I don't really know, but you have killed him, and yet you are still not King."

Gervais collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Beamish asked the Queen why she'd let Gervais kill the man on the throne.

"He was cheating on me. Why shouldn't I kill two birds with one stone? I've brought my son back into line, at the cost of the life of someone who cheated on me, *knowing* I could damn well see everything he did!" The Queen held her head high as she walked out of the throne room.

Beamish looked at Gervais. His question was answered. Why do princesses sob, not cry? Because the princes were the ones who cryed, apparently.

Beamish walked out of the throne room and found Cinders sitting on the stairs, a blank look on her face.

"Now what?" she asked him.

"Come on," said Beamish, taking her hand and leading her out of the castle. He had no idea what was going to happen, but to make Cinders feel better he said.

"I'll buy you a new pair of shoes."



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