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Jenria

"The Fourth Princess"

Author's note: This is an odd story I wrote in one sitting, tried to revise, and got bored of. Maybe I'll try it again sometime, since I left it with a rather odd ending. But then, it's not supposed to make much sense anyway....

It was very peaceful in the fairy tale land of Goodwill, but then it was always peaceful. Occasionally an evil witch or wizard would take over and capture the royal family, but then some brave prince would come along and free the country, then marry the youngest princess. However, this had not happened for a while, as the youngest princesses were too young yet to marry, so Goodwill was very peaceful as always.

The royal family consisted of the king and queen and the royal princesses. Naturally, there were twelve princesses, each more beautiful then the last, with lovely names such as Charity, the eldest at twenty, and Harmony, the youngest, who was only eight. Each princess had her own special gift and special role, being that they lived in a fairy tale country.

Well, almost all.

Actually, all but one to be precise.

Her name was Mercy, and she was the fourth princess at seventeen. It was true she had the beauty associated with being a princess, but was very common-looking in comparison to her eight younger sisters. She was intelligent and skilled, but not as skilled as the first three princesses, whose trio her birth had broken. Indeed, who cared about the fourth princess at all? Being fourth was being nothing at all.

Mercy had a great many talents; her voice was like an angel's, her paintings as stunning as a sunrise, and her weavings as intricate and delicate as a spider's web. But what where these skills to a fairy tale princess? She knew the way of fairy tales, which meant that the most fairest and most talented would always be the youngest, Harmony. She had studied fairy tales many years, and though try as she might, she never could find a place for the fourth princess. It worried her that if she didn't find herself a place in life, she would be doomed to anonymity and married away quietly.

That particular day, Mercy was avidly browsing in the royal library in the Fairy Tale section, hoping to find a clue to what she should do about her future. One would think that she had already read all the books in the library on the subject, but royal libraries were always the largest and well-stocked, so she had only reached the R authors by this time. She was flipping through the contents Turning a Profit while Turning Straw into Gold, by Rumplestiltskin, when she happened to glance to the door to where a very nondescript person walked in. Intrigued by the indescribable nature of the person (who, as I said, was nondescript), she set the book carefully back on its shelf, and decided to find out who this odd person was.

"Hello," she said softly, for the librarian was watching her. "I am the princess Mercy. And who are you who is so very nondescript?"

"I'm the narrator," the nondescript person said. "I came here to speak with you."

"With me!" the princess gasped, although still very quiet for the librarian was still watching her. "Whatever for?"

"Because," the narrator replied nondescriptly, "I'm telling this story about you, but you don't have any role. I'm here to make sure this story isn't boring."

"Goodness!" Mercy exclaimed, not so softly now that the librarian wasn't watching. "Please, go right ahead. I certainly don't want a story about me to be boring."

"Great," the narrator replied. "But let's leave this library before that librarian begins looking at you again. I'm not fond of repeating the same joke."

"I'll show you the way to garden. We can talk there, for gardens are always a safe place to talk in fairy tales."

"No need," the narrator said. "I'll just spin some transitional sentences and we'll be there in less than a paragraph."

So the narrator quickly spun a transitional scene and described the usual attractiveness and exotic varieties of plants and animals that were to be found in the royal gardens, ending with how they decided to talk in a hidden niche where Mercy loved to read her Fairy Tale books.

"How marvelous!" Mercy said. "We're already in my secret nook, after only one sentence!"

"It's nothing special," the narrator said. "I am, after all, the narrator of this story."

The princess nodded. "Are you going to assign me a role now? I've wanted one so much."

"Well," the narrator answered. "The problem is, I can't decide who you should be. That's why I came here, so I could ask you what role you would like. Then I'll be able to finish my story."

"Let me understand this," Mercy said. "I can chose whatever role I want? I don't have to be the fourth princess?"

"Oh, no. You still have to be the fourth princess. I've already said that you were, several times, so I can't go back on that now. It's just not good policy."

"Oh dear. What other roles have been disqualified?"

"You're a certified princess, so you can't be a long-lost one or a one whose royal blood has to be tested. You can't be the most talented, nor the prettiest, nor can you be the ugliest or least talented."

"Well, then," Mercy decided, "I'm not sure what roles there are left that would suit me. Do you think I could ask you about each of the roles, then decide?"

"Certainly," the narrator said. "I hate to rush plot development."

The princess agreed whole heartedly, then began to think about the different types of princesses she could be. This all took a very short time, for while the narrator hated to rush the plot, the narrator also hated wasting paragraphs about thinking.

"I think I have some ideas, but I'd like to know more about the roles." Mercy paused, and collected her thoughts as she hadn't had enough time in the last paragraph. "I think I'd be suited to be a misfit princess," Mercy said. "After all, I've spent seventeen years without a role to fit in. That sounds like a misfit."

"I could do that," the narrator said. "In that case, you'd have to run away from home to find yourself, and since you're a princess, you'll eventually meet a handsome young man whom you'll fall in love with."

"That sounds good," the princess said. "Then what?"

"Then you'll be discovered as a princess and have to return home, only to find your lover is a prince. A big celebration will be given, and you'll marry the prince."

"Marry?" Mercy echoed. "I don't want to marry anyone. Besides, that's Harmony's role to marry the handsome prince, once she's old enough. What about the abducted princess, not that I like the idea of being kidnapped?"

"If that's the case, then you have the choice of being held in a tower, put under an enchantment, or both. You'll spend at least a year by yourself when you'll meet either a wandering or enchanted prince who'll free you. A big celebration will be given, and you'll marry the prince."

Mercy frowned. "Not marriage again," she complained. "Do all princess roles end in a marriage?"

"Not all," the narrator answered. "You could be the evil jealous sister who tries to kill the youngest princess and eventually is slain."

The princess shuddered. "I don't think I like that one. Any others?"

"You could be the quiet princess, but the role generally works best only for the eldest and youngest. What about the selfless princess who takes care of the youngest?"

"That sounds nice," Mercy replied. "What would happen to me then?"

"You'll spend your life watching over Harmony as a minor character, and you'll have to share whatever trials she has once she's old enough for her own story. For instance, if she's abducted, then you'll have to go to, if just to keep her company until the prince comes. You'll cry at her wedding and die an old maid."

"That doesn't sound very good either. First, I have to get married, then I can't get married. And I'm not longer the main character. I don't suppose there's an in-between?"

"Not in a classic fairy tale," the narrator said. "A classic fairy tale has to end in the marriage of the major prince or princess. At the very least, you'll marry a noble youth who was a servant to some duke."

Mercy considered this. "What about a non-classic fairy tale? This doesn't have to be a traditional story, does it?"

The narrator thought this over. "I suppose not," the narrator finally said. "This could be a parody. In that case, you're free to do whatever you want, as long as it's funny in some way."

Mercy nodded. "I like that idea. Could we try it and see how it sounds?"

"Well, we could..." the narrator began hesitantly, "if it wasn't for one problem."

"What's that?"

"The fact we're in the middle of the story right now, very close to the climax, so we couldn't well start over."

Indeed, as the narrator looked over the story so far, it spanned nearly three pages, and the rest of the characters had yet to be introduced.

"Oh," Mercy said. "I guess we'll just have to continue from here, now that we're doing a parody."

So the narrator made up a second transitive paragraph, this time sending Mercy back to the library, where the librarian could eyeball her again. After a moment of two to adjust from the sudden change of environment in less than a sentence, she went back to perusing the bookshelves, playing the farcical role of the roleless princess.