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My Kingdom for a Snack
The child awoke, and found himself in a world of shadows and starlight.
He glanced at the nursemaid, but she lay on the bed with the other babies, fast asleep. She would be cranky if he woke her. But he was hungry.
He sat up, then, and carefully scooted across the straw mattress and dropped to the floor. Being careful not to step on the older boys slumbering on the floor, he made his way to the door and slipped out into the corridor.
The older boys liked to lord their size and age over the child. We'll be squires, soon! they'd say, puffing their chests out boldly. We'll serve the King's knights. Perhaps they'll take us along to battle!
The child padded down the darkened hall. There were probably monsters hiding in the corners, but monsters couldn't see little children. The nursemaid said so, and from what the child could tell, she knew everything.
Finding the kitchens turned out to be a rather difficult task. The servant's quarters were cramped, and the hallways wound together like a knotted piece of string.
It was an old castle. Everyone said the King had taken it from an evil sorcerer long ago, and paid for it in blood. That's why we never see His Highness without his battlehelm, they whispered. He has a terrible scar that never heals.
The nursemaid wouldn't talk about the king. It isn't my place, she would say. His Highness has a trying job.
The child didn't see what was so hard about crushing one's enemies (especially when you were as powerful and deadly as the King supposedly was), but the nursemaid knew everything, probably, and he didn't press further.
After some time, the child came across an promising-looking door. He had to jump a bit to reach the latch, but it swung open easily, revealing a darkened room. Convinced he was in Cook's bedroom, the child toddled over to the snoring lump on the four-poster bed.
"Snack, please?" The child asked politely, tapping on the lump. The snoring stopped abruptly.
"You... What? What is the meaning of this?" came the groggy reply. The shape slowly sat up, like a dragon emerging from its lair.
"Snack?" The child repeated, hopefully.
The child stumbled as the shape rose from the bed and moved to light a candelabra. Light sprang from the wicks, and the room suddenly became much bigger.
Before the child stood the King.
He was tall. He towered over the wayward child like the castle walls themselves, big and solid and tense. His brows were furrowed in an angry frown, and the expression twisted the scars on his face into a misshapen mess of harsh, unforgiving flesh.
"Why have you awoken me?" The King thundered.
The child blinked up at the angry monarch, wondering if this was why the King wore a battlehelm. Between his half-severed brow and his lopsided nose, the King looked like a troll, or maybe an ogre.
"Speak when you are ordered to," the King demanded.
"Snack for me?"
"What?"
The child remembered his manners. "Snack for me, please?"
The King stared at the toddler. "You woke your ruler because you were hungry? Do you not fear my ire?" He kicked the pile of armor left discarded at the foot of his bed. "Others would not dare approach me if their lives depended on it. Why do you not fear my monstrosity as they do?"
Maybe this was a riddle, like in the nursemaid's stories. If the child answered correctly, the King would relent and they could get a snack.
"Why are you not afraid?" the King repeated, almost desperately.
"Monsters don't see children," the child stated. "Nurse says so."
He reached out a tiny hand and waved it before the King. His Highness' eyes followed the movement of the tiny fingers as they flailed about.
"See?" the child chirped. "Not a monster."
The King stared at him for a long time.
Finally, he murmured, "I see."
The child perked up hopefully. "Snack?"
"Yes, I think so," the monarch replied. He reached down and allowed the child to wrap his hand around a single gnarled finger.
"Snack for us," the child said happily, as the two set off through the darkened castle.
He glanced at the nursemaid, but she lay on the bed with the other babies, fast asleep. She would be cranky if he woke her. But he was hungry.
He sat up, then, and carefully scooted across the straw mattress and dropped to the floor. Being careful not to step on the older boys slumbering on the floor, he made his way to the door and slipped out into the corridor.
The older boys liked to lord their size and age over the child. We'll be squires, soon! they'd say, puffing their chests out boldly. We'll serve the King's knights. Perhaps they'll take us along to battle!
The child padded down the darkened hall. There were probably monsters hiding in the corners, but monsters couldn't see little children. The nursemaid said so, and from what the child could tell, she knew everything.
Finding the kitchens turned out to be a rather difficult task. The servant's quarters were cramped, and the hallways wound together like a knotted piece of string.
It was an old castle. Everyone said the King had taken it from an evil sorcerer long ago, and paid for it in blood. That's why we never see His Highness without his battlehelm, they whispered. He has a terrible scar that never heals.
The nursemaid wouldn't talk about the king. It isn't my place, she would say. His Highness has a trying job.
The child didn't see what was so hard about crushing one's enemies (especially when you were as powerful and deadly as the King supposedly was), but the nursemaid knew everything, probably, and he didn't press further.
After some time, the child came across an promising-looking door. He had to jump a bit to reach the latch, but it swung open easily, revealing a darkened room. Convinced he was in Cook's bedroom, the child toddled over to the snoring lump on the four-poster bed.
"Snack, please?" The child asked politely, tapping on the lump. The snoring stopped abruptly.
"You... What? What is the meaning of this?" came the groggy reply. The shape slowly sat up, like a dragon emerging from its lair.
"Snack?" The child repeated, hopefully.
The child stumbled as the shape rose from the bed and moved to light a candelabra. Light sprang from the wicks, and the room suddenly became much bigger.
Before the child stood the King.
He was tall. He towered over the wayward child like the castle walls themselves, big and solid and tense. His brows were furrowed in an angry frown, and the expression twisted the scars on his face into a misshapen mess of harsh, unforgiving flesh.
"Why have you awoken me?" The King thundered.
The child blinked up at the angry monarch, wondering if this was why the King wore a battlehelm. Between his half-severed brow and his lopsided nose, the King looked like a troll, or maybe an ogre.
"Speak when you are ordered to," the King demanded.
"Snack for me?"
"What?"
The child remembered his manners. "Snack for me, please?"
The King stared at the toddler. "You woke your ruler because you were hungry? Do you not fear my ire?" He kicked the pile of armor left discarded at the foot of his bed. "Others would not dare approach me if their lives depended on it. Why do you not fear my monstrosity as they do?"
Maybe this was a riddle, like in the nursemaid's stories. If the child answered correctly, the King would relent and they could get a snack.
"Why are you not afraid?" the King repeated, almost desperately.
"Monsters don't see children," the child stated. "Nurse says so."
He reached out a tiny hand and waved it before the King. His Highness' eyes followed the movement of the tiny fingers as they flailed about.
"See?" the child chirped. "Not a monster."
The King stared at him for a long time.
Finally, he murmured, "I see."
The child perked up hopefully. "Snack?"
"Yes, I think so," the monarch replied. He reached down and allowed the child to wrap his hand around a single gnarled finger.
"Snack for us," the child said happily, as the two set off through the darkened castle.
Oh, to be young and innocent again...
I liked the fable-like approach of the story. And the simple narrative complemented the point of view of the little kid quite nicely. I wish there was a little more, though. Perhaps a final paragraph that ties everything together and leaves us with a hice lesson at the end. I mean, I'd like to know what's going to happen to the king. Is he going to get over his issues and chante forma the better? Is he going to remain the sale bit with the child as his only friend?
This story put a smile in my face, though I feel it could've had a much stronger ending. Still, remarkable work.
I liked the fable-like approach of the story. And the simple narrative complemented the point of view of the little kid quite nicely. I wish there was a little more, though. Perhaps a final paragraph that ties everything together and leaves us with a hice lesson at the end. I mean, I'd like to know what's going to happen to the king. Is he going to get over his issues and chante forma the better? Is he going to remain the sale bit with the child as his only friend?
This story put a smile in my face, though I feel it could've had a much stronger ending. Still, remarkable work.
Oh, now this I liked. Some nice subtlety of message underpinning what, at its heart, felt like a recasting of Beauty and the Beast... only, with snacks. Occasional descriptive elements really underpin the narrative PoV, so that we know we are seeing the world through the eyes of a child, rather than having to rely overly on labels. I think it does need a touch more foreshadowing of the King, though, just to bring the moment of realisation, and what it could mean, into greater relief. It works as it is, of course, but I just felt that some of the King's speech was attempting to do the work of earlier paragraphs as well as escalate the content/conflict.
I also don't know whether it's because I've just read through a bunch of fics with darker themes, but for a millisecond that ending felt sinister. Then it didn't, and I'm going to embrace the non-sinister interpretation.
Top of the pile stuff, here. Thanks for sharing.
I also don't know whether it's because I've just read through a bunch of fics with darker themes, but for a millisecond that ending felt sinister. Then it didn't, and I'm going to embrace the non-sinister interpretation.
Top of the pile stuff, here. Thanks for sharing.
My only quibble:
Is that the child seems to be older in the earlier section than in the later section. The child at the beginning seems to understand all the things in italics as well as understanding the idea of crushing your enemies, but the child at the end seems too young to form a complete sentence.
My suggestion would be to show us the italicized stuff at the beginning in scenes and dialogue. That way, we can see and hear things through the child's POV without you having to make the child old enough to understand them and the child can be as young as you need him to be for the ending to work. Still, this one goes to the top of my ballot. Very nicely done.
Mike
Is that the child seems to be older in the earlier section than in the later section. The child at the beginning seems to understand all the things in italics as well as understanding the idea of crushing your enemies, but the child at the end seems too young to form a complete sentence.
My suggestion would be to show us the italicized stuff at the beginning in scenes and dialogue. That way, we can see and hear things through the child's POV without you having to make the child old enough to understand them and the child can be as young as you need him to be for the ending to work. Still, this one goes to the top of my ballot. Very nicely done.
Mike
That bit with the king came across as... I dunno. I want to say unsubtle, but I'm not certain that's it. I did like this, although a bit of tuning might help as well; things like repeating floor close together, and since this has some fantasy flavor, not really being sure what they mean about monsters in the dark.
This does do a good job of being economical, and it feels like it's longer than its wordcount would suggest, which is good.
This does do a good job of being economical, and it feels like it's longer than its wordcount would suggest, which is good.
Enjoyed - My Kingdom for a Snack — A+ — First reaction: Kids do the darndest things. Perfect.
(+) Everything, from the flow to the characterization. I’ve got a preference for small children written correctly, and this hits all my happy buttons.
(-) Possibly, maybe the way the author used passive voice. There’s a lot of it at the beginning and it tapers off.
Weapon count: One King. Kill count: One wizard (previous to story)
(+) Everything, from the flow to the characterization. I’ve got a preference for small children written correctly, and this hits all my happy buttons.
(-) Possibly, maybe the way the author used passive voice. There’s a lot of it at the beginning and it tapers off.
Weapon count: One King. Kill count: One wizard (previous to story)
I agree with Mike here. Your child is not consistent. He needs a nurse, but can still walk (unimpeded) through the castle. I wouldn't expect the door of the King's private apartment to be unguarded. Your child also seems to understand and reason like a grown-up but utters only simple sentences. This causes a sort of cognitive dissonance. At least, it's not consistent.
I am, contrarily to the others, only lukewarm with this one. I mean, it's not bad, but the idea of the daring trip by a small child facing an imaginary danger is a trope that has been used a lot in the WriteOff, and while it is always endearing, it's beginning to be cut-and-dried.
I am, contrarily to the others, only lukewarm with this one. I mean, it's not bad, but the idea of the daring trip by a small child facing an imaginary danger is a trope that has been used a lot in the WriteOff, and while it is always endearing, it's beginning to be cut-and-dried.
Well, this was the first story I read this competition, and it comes in at the top of my list. It was concise, contained, and cute. Children really do say the darndest things. Nicely done!
"Why are you not afraid?" the King repeated, almost desperately.
"Monsters don't see children," the child stated. "Nurse says so."
At first I thought the kid meant that he wasn't afraid because he was invisible to the king and therefore could flee without harm. I had to do a double-take two lines later at the king reacting thoughtfully to what felt like a sick burn.
Another reader in the >>Baal Bunny camp wrt the child's inconsistency. Definitely needs some editing on that score. Still, this tells an enjoyable story in its space.
Tier: Strong
My Kingdom for a Snack:
>>Not_A_Hat >>georg >>Monokeras >>TheCyanRecluse
Thank you kindly for your all your insights and thoughts; they were quite enlightening. There seems to be a general consensus as to the age of the child being inconsistent, so I'll make a note to clean that up, should I ever revisit this story in the future.
>>ZaidValRoa >>Ceffyl_Dwr >>Baal Bunny
Thank you for your specific suggestions. You raise some good points.
>>horizon
... brb, rewriting the story.
>>billymorph
Thanks for comment, but latter half unclear
>>Not_A_Hat >>georg >>Monokeras >>TheCyanRecluse
Thank you kindly for your all your insights and thoughts; they were quite enlightening. There seems to be a general consensus as to the age of the child being inconsistent, so I'll make a note to clean that up, should I ever revisit this story in the future.
>>ZaidValRoa >>Ceffyl_Dwr >>Baal Bunny
Thank you for your specific suggestions. You raise some good points.
>>horizon
king reacting thoughtfully to what felt like a sick burn
... brb, rewriting the story.
>>billymorph
Thanks for comment, but latter half unclear
Hmm, the only one of the medalists that didn't end up on my slate. Just read it now, and I like it. I complained (a bit) in comments on my own entry (which was accused, rightfully, of being "fluff") that two many entries were dark, and this did the happy/encouraging ending with more weight than I pulled off. Definitely deserved to beat my story!