Froggy Business

The glittering fairy dust was suffocating in the cathedral.  In search of fresh air, Prince Stephan paced through the azaleas and dusk-blooming primroses of the garden.  Word would come soon that the ceremony was about to start and that his bride was awaiting his royal presence at the altar.  His bride . . . he knew that he did not want to go through with this.  It wasn’t just nerves or cold feet—he really couldn’t go through with this.  An arranged marriage wasn’t good enough for him!  Why, any of the princesses he’d rescued would have been more than happy to take his hand in marriage, but he hadn’t wanted to settle down.  Now, he was being forced to marry a simpering princess only to unite two nations and please thousands of people—commoners, whose happiness somehow counted more than his!

           

 He’d spent his life devoted to being as perfect an heir as possible; he’d gone on quests and slain dragons, rescued fair maidens in distress, and even assisted his father with planning a war!  Now, the old addled twit had decided to say hell with honor and glory on the battlefield, for who didn’t want peace?  Stephan made a noise of disgust. Certainly the princess was beautiful—he had only seen her once, but remembered lavender eyes and golden curls—but she was a princess, and a woman at that.  Her head was certainly full of vapid nonsense about embroidery and jewels.  He would be driven mad within a fortnight.

           

 The fountain bubbled and splooshed beside him as he stalked forwards and backwards, cursing his father, muttering about the princess, and decrying the ignorant masses.  Finally, he flopped down on the edge of the fountain, pouting in a way that no perfect prince ever would.  Who cared about uniting nations?  All he cared about was his own happiness.

 “You’re being silly,” said a voice by his elbow.  He nearly jumped out of his shiny boots, for he thought he’d been alone in the garden all this time.  But no one else was there except a peculiarly bright green frog sitting next to him on the fountain.

“Excuse me?” he said politely—proper etiquette had been drilled into him since birth, and that included manners for small amphibians like the one in front of him.

“You heard me, you’re being silly!” it croaked again, waving a webbed foot.  Imagine, being told off by a frog!  Stephan puffed his chest out indignantly.

 “You will not speak to me in such a manner,” he said.  The frog giggled.

 “You should be more polite to a talking frog!  I could be a fairy in disguise,” it laughed.  Stephan paused.  It had a point.  One must be careful, lest one become cursed by a fairy in a bad temper.

 “Very well, why am I being so silly?”

“Because you haven’t thought this through thoroughly,” it said, and hopped onto his knee.

“There is nothing I can do.  My father would never let me refuse now; it would be a grave insult to the princess.”

“Ah, but who says you have to refuse?” it looked up at him with glassy eyes and caught a fly with its tongue.  Stephan thought for a moment, wondering what on earth the frog meant.  Then he had a scathingly brilliant idea.  But where could he find a dragon for hire at this hour?  No, it had to be simpler than that.

“Oh my,” he said, as a diabolical grin split his face.  “That’s brilliant.  I’ll get married, like my father says, in order to attain the lands and riches of her people.”

“Good idea!” the frog croaked.

“Then, before she can drive me mad with her idle chatter, I’ll hire a dragon to carry her off!”

“And?”

“And I’ll take my jolly time rescuing her.”  Yes, what a perfect plot!  Then he could have all the women he wanted, while he “tracked the dragon down.”

The frog was silent for a moment, watching him with its large eyes, and then it leaped up and planted a slimy kiss on his lips.  Stephan recoiled and fell over into the fountain, while an explosion of glitter fell about him. When he was able to pull himself out, there stood Princess Jessabelle.

“What a fine and dandy thing to hear on my wedding day!” she said, hands on her hips.  “My Prince Charming wants nothing to do with me, and he’s going to have me carried off by dragons!”  Her shrewd violet eyes narrowed at his drenched figure, her face full of regal fury.

“I-I-I-” he stuttered.  For the first time in his life, he was dumbstruck.

“My fairy godmother turned me into a frog so that I could see your true intentions.  Imagine, wanting to use me for your own gain.  That’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard.”  She swept her train into her hand.  “I hope you realize, this means war.” Her violet eyes flashed as she stalked away.

“Wait!” he called, sloshing out of the fountain and squishing across the grass to her.  She turned to him, her lips pressed together, the perfect picture of rage—but too perfect.  He took her hand, his heart thudding in his ears, and he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would see this marriage through—she was an amazing asset that he couldn’t lose.  “I’m sorry,” he said, spitting out a word he’d never said.  “Perhaps I was a bit too hasty.”

She looked up at him through her long eyelashes, and smiled coyly.  “Touch me again,” she said sweetly, pulling her hand away, “and it will be the last thing that you’ll ever do.”

Stephan pulled her to him and kissed her, hard, and was surprised that she returned it.  They had more in common than he realized; both were selfish, spoiled, and very eager for war.  Perhaps they’d make a powerful duo after all.

998 words.  Written for a class back in 2010.

Okay, so this is pretty terrible....