Wednesday July 18th, 2012

The exercise:

Your theme for today: protect/protector/protection.

Because I couldn't settle on just one of them.

Saw our first cucumber of the year in the garden this morning. Wasn't quite big enough to harvest, but I imagine by Friday it will have made its way into our fridge. And shortly after that, our bellies.


His orders were clear: protect the princess at all costs.

Their journey was to be made under the cover of secrecy, misdirection, and whatever manner of deceit was required. During preparations several disguises were experimented with, until one was found for each of them that managed to fool the king.

In the week leading up to their planned departure the princess began to pretend that she had acquired a mysterious illness. First a nagging cough, then a loss of appetite. A few stray hairs left behind after tea with the highest ranking ladies of the castle. Finally, the day before their mission began, she fainted in the royal hall.

Confined to her room, with him as her only guard, only the royal doctor and her personal maid had access to the princess. Both were paid handsomely for their silence in regard to the pair's imminent disappearance, though both had been loyal servants to the king for so long that such bribes were entirely unnecessary.

Or so the princess and her protector believed...


Cathryn Leigh said...

@Marc – What it has to stop by the fridge first? Poor Cucumber all it want’s to do is go straight from garden to your bellies. :}

I like your opening – there’s a good fantasy novel set up in that one... Or maybe change it up to be steampunk? *giggles* I wonder what the disguises were...


“How do you protect a woman,” Manuel leaned towards Hasón, “who doesn’t want protection? Or worse,” he eyes glanced to where Sarah was talking with the other men, “don’t need it.”

Hasón smiled. “The first rule is to make sure your protection is not obvious. Do not let your hand stray to your sword at the slightest hint of trouble.”

Manuel hastily moved both hands to the table top.

“Secondly,” Has243n’s gaze crossed where Sarah was before returning to Manuel, “If she can protect herself, let her an only when she needs help, set up and do so.”

“And how do you know when she needs help?” Manuel looked at Hasón intently.

“Well,” he chuckled, “Sarah generally calls for me, but you may have to learn Lynn’s ways to figure out when she won’t blow up if you step in.” Hasón leaned forward. “And remember do not take over like a commander, but join as a second. Women are smarter than you give them credit for.”

Hasón stood and moved to where Sarah was, draping an arm gently about her shoulder. She smiled at him, and gave his hand on her shoulder a squeeze as one of the men about her quickly moved away, face flushing in embarasment.

*giggles* So I took another form of Protect fro my title. *grins* Still I have fun with the chemistry between these three. I’d call Lynn a fourth, but I need to do a bit more personality development and find out if she actually is still interested in Manuel. :}

Morrigan Aoife said...

The orders were delivered via electronic means; the plans for the new system would be sold on the black market to various medical facilities throughout the Middle East. By this time tomorrow Marc would be half way around the world sipping fruiting drinks while lying on the beach dreaming of ways to spend his newly acquired money.

After months of coercion his coworker, George, had finally submitted to partaking in the scam and since then he’d been working endless hours to complete the project on time. The last of the diagnostics were now complete.

With a smile Marc greased the palm of his loyal confidant, more out of habit then necessity. Closing his fingers around the stack of bills George looked into the eyes of his oppressor and nodded as he handed the disk containing the program over to Marc with his free hand. The exchange occurred in complete silence. Marc turned, headed toward the elevator and depressed the button.

When the doors opened and Marc stepped inside, George stood and walked to his office window. The FBI waited silently below. Marc had been right, the bribes were no longer necessary. The exchange was merely the last piece of evidence George had needed to seal his fate.

Marc said...

Cathryn - every now and again I get the urge to write steampunk, but nothing has really come of it yet. Perhaps soon...

Great scene, it really conveys their personalities.

Morrigan - damn that George! I trusted him, I paid him off, and then he threw it all aw...

Er, nothing. Never mind. Carry on, nothing to see here.