Rate by The Naughty Meter
Categories: Anonymity, Romantic Setting/Exotic
Fulfillment: I will tell you later
The Princess was locked in her chamber, awaiting punishment. She’s been ordered not to leave the castle alone. She'd disobeyed her Champion. He stormed in, drawing her to her feet by my upper arms, and glareing at her fiercely.
"Didn't I tell you not to go out without an escort?" She opened her mouth and got cut off. "Why the Hell can't you just do as I ask? Is it really so hard to take a guard with you? We've been over this a thousand times! I'm responsible for you. That means you do as I say!" He released her arms and took a step back.
He studied his charge. She was tiny but could frighten grown men with her wrath. Her dark hair was straight and hung to her narrow hips, her eyes dark brown and fiery. Her skin pale and very freckled. He could span her waist with both hands it was so tiny. The top of her head not even reaching his shoulder. Still she defied him more than grown men with a death wish. He’d had men flogged for this kind of disobedience. He was still towering over her and glaring down.
“I am aware of what you said. But taking a guard makes me feel like a prisoner." She crossed her arms, defiantly glaring right back. He’d been having her shadowed for weeks now. She didn’t know why, and it was damned annoying. He exhaled loudly, clearly frustrared. "There are rumors of plans to assonate you." That caught her off guard. Their neighbor the Baron was getting desperate. She knew he wanted her Father’s throne. That’s why he needed her out of the way. He saw her alarm and his next words were calmer.
"I didn't tell you for fear of frightening you. Now it seems you need to be frightened! Then perhaps you'll do as you're told!" His wrath was in fine voice she thought. She watched him as he fumed.
The Princesses' Champion, sworn to protect her with his life. He was so big, not very tall but burly enough to make it unimportant. His brownish hair cut very short, beard trimmed neatly, and his dark colored eyes were fixed on her. Quite a sight to behold really, even now, jaw tight with fury. She'd tried a few times and gotten nowhere, though she knew he wanted her.
"Scared no, better informed yes." If he'd bothered to explain to her, she would've gone along with it. "I don't have to follow orders. I'm not one of your soldiers." Like he needed reminding.
"Be that as it may, you disobeyed me." She didn’t need reminding. She was never to knowingly put herself in danger. It was part of her vow to him as tradition and law demanded. As her life sworn he had the right to no less. She really hadn’t known, but to him it was irrelevant. He saw everything as black and white.
He drew something from inside his shirt and walked towards her. She backed up, not liking the look in his eyes at all. She reached the bed and could go no further. He grabbed one of her wrists and snapped a tight fitted bangle on it, then quickly repeated the process. He batted aside her attempts to resist.
"I didn’t want to do this but you left me no choice. If you will let slip your honor and forget your trust, you are to be tied to the furniture if you disobey me again. In the mean time you are a claimed woman until you can lean to stay at hand. He pointed to the bracelet as he spoke, indicating the ornate designs.
"The dragon is me, the fire is my wrath, the treasure it guards is you." She was of course familiar with the concept. It was widely used on wayward or valued women. The bracelets were a literal translation of the ties that bound us. The dragon would die guarding it’s treasure, just as he would die to protect me. It was a reminder to me of my broken oath, my disobedience. They were my punishment. She glared at his back as he stormed out of the room. How dare she? Her father would have his head on a platter if he knew about this. The nerve of that girl, and than to argue with him that she was right.
"Stubborn mule" slipped out of his mouth as he entered his room. It wasn't much to look at. A simple bed covered in animal furs. A desk with enough room for his plans, and a hutch by his bed. He didn't spend much time in here. With the daily requirements that his job held he was up before the sun and usually in bed only after the moon came out. He crashed down into the chair at his desk and removed his scabbard and hung it across the back of the chair. Now to get into next week's guard rotation. He hadn’t been at it long when he heard a knock at the door. It was not something he wanted to hear. He ignored it. No one he needed to see would come here and the king would send for him. A few moments passed and the knock came again. More persistent this time, almost annoyed.
"Damnation! Who goes there?" He roared.
"I do!" shot back a female voice. "And your damn lucky I knocked!" It was her. Why would she come here? What need could she have for being here?
"Enter!" he said.
"What, your not going to open the door for me?" she mouthed to him. Heaving a sigh he rose and opened the door. She was a picture of indignation, glowering up at him, she was so small it was almost comic. Like a pet imitating a wild animal, he wanted to laugh at her. Except he was still angry with her, and not ready for more of her insanity yet.
"My allegiance is to your father and this kingdom! Do not push me little one. I am sure your father would not appreciate you taking this time away from my planning of the castle guard." He spoke to her sternly.
"Don't exaggerate your importance! I only came because I wanted to go out, and you said I needed an escort." she retorted.
"Fine, I shall dispatch someone to your room. Go there and wait." He said already turning.
"NO! If I am all that important you can get off your arse and take me. Besides, I already spoke with father and he ordered that I be at your constant side while he is gone!" she explained irritably. Clearly this wasn't her idea.
"Gone! Where would the king go without my knowledge?" He was taken off guard by that. "He left to rally the allies to the North. He fears an attack and needs the support of the rest of the alliance." She replied calmly. "Now quit stalling and let's go!" She needed to get some things if she was going to be cooped up for a while.
Of all the indignities. The captain of the royal military resorted to a body guard for the princess. Years of training wasted on one person. Although this chit of a woman was a force of her own willful, stubborn, impatient; in short, a handful. Keeping her in check seemed to need an army some days. She turned and walked out. He was glad when she turned away. It hid his anger from her. He was though, unfortunately male. As she turned he admired the curve of her backside. He had a sudden urge to lift her skirt, make her moan, suck her nipples, taste the forbidden. She was attractive alright, and she would use this to turn his guards into idiots on occasion. He shook his head clear and followed.
The day was sunny and warm. They walked into the farmer's market. She stopped at every stand it seemed without tire. She had the audacity to stop at a peddler's shop and hold a corset against her body and ask,
"What do you think? This going to be tight enough?" Men had been drawn and quartered by the King for looking at her like this. Only royalty could have his daughter. A father's stubborn pride, or a ruler's way of preserving his legacy? He pondered it a bit as he watched her flit around.
He was silent and bored most of the afternoon. She tried to engage him in conversation. Even her comment about the corset wasn't enough to garner a reaction. Well, not a verbal one. His eyes had shown something, a spark. The one that reminded her he was still a man. She glanced at the wide gold bracelets that had no obvious hinge. Seamless for all purposes, it was his right to mark her thus. The design varied by person and wearer, but the idea was the same . She was wearing a sign that said HARM HER AND SUFFER. In spite it all she couldn’t be angry. He would die for her and by comparison asked almost nothing in return. Except obedience without question, she had trouble with that one. She wanted always to know the why.
They went back to the towers and were about to part. She was still mulling it over when the arrow slammed into his shoulder. She felt the air whiz past her ear. She suddenly saw feathers sticking out of him. It took her a second to realize he’d been shot. It had came from the far wall. A figure tried to run but his guard had the assassin cornered. He directed his men to move in. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder he pushed her behind him.
The guards were mere feet from him when the figure dove off the wall. It was a 90 foot drop. The impact mangled him. There would be no information from him; aside from his under shirt. The symbol of the Baron. There was no doubt now, it was meant for her. All this time the princess stood shell-shocked. She was sick with worry, seeing her defender suddenly so mortal. He looked at her and felt pity. She looked so small and afraid. His little one. It isn't often that your own mortality comes so pointedly into view. She wasn't, as she'd tartly reminded him this morning, one of his men. She trailed after him to the House of the Healers. The King had the best, though he spent most of his time in his dungeon. Now he attended to The Champion himself. She tried to be quiet, keep out of the way, but she refused to leave him.
Watching the old man's apprentices remove the arrow was the worst. It took 3 men to hold him down while the arrow was removed. He clenched his jaw and grunted when they pulled it out. She watched in horror as his blood ran onto the table, soaked the cloth of his tunic. The compresses never seemed to be made of much but they always worked. He rubbed the compress into the wound. Moments later the blood stopped. She was relieved, sure he was running low. She didn't know a body could hold so much. It was frightening to see him thus. Despite all their conflict he was dear to her. For several frighteningly long seconds she thought he would bleed out right there, on the cold wooden table.
"Be sure to come in tomorrow and I shall see to it that the wound doesn't linger." With that the old man disappeared back into his dungeon. One of the attendants bound his shoulder in clean linen, then handed him a clean tunic, and deftly helped him don it.She was about to leave for her room. She stood and went for the door when his hand grabbed her.
"Just where the hell do you think you're going?" he growled.
"To my room. This has all been very fun but I am tired." She replied trying to maintain her appearance of calm.
"Oh no! Tonight you will stay in my chambers. They won't look for you there and I will be able to keep you safe." he said firmly.
"Just what type of harlot do..." she stammered. But he cut her off.
"Quiet! Remember by the law of the land! I am in charge while the king is not here! I shall send a chamber maid to fetch a bed and some clothes for you."
His face was a little pale, but his voice was strong as ever as they argued. His thinly veiled smugness made her wish she could strike him. It would be unfair after all that had just happened. Still, her hands were balled into fists. She was shaking with rage as he strode calmly away. He smiled on the inside. He knew that being told what to do was killing her. He might enjoy this assignment after all.
That night buried under her covers in the safety of his room she had a dream. He was on the wall. Arrows sticking out of him everywhere, he was falling. She was running, trying to reach him, her skirts flew, tried to trip her. She woke just as he struck the ground. The darkness in the room betrayed the quiet. He could here her stirring.
"For Heaven’s sake will you go to sleep little one! I swear you are more obnoxious than a new recruit!" he yelled. She almost told him then, that it was his fault somehow she was up in the middle of the night. When he used her pet name she decided he'd tease her. For being soft, afraid of the dark, whatever.
"It wasn't my idea to be here. and this bed is horrible." She retorted. She got up and slid into his bed.
"Move over" She said.
"This is my bed and I will be damned if I am getting up" he replied.
"I did not say anything about you leaving. Just don't start snoring again" she said.
His nearness was comforting, she slid in as closely as she dared. He could feel her next to him. Her breath sweet and warm. The oils and perfumes of the well to do intoxicating his nose. His mind flashed to the image of her leaving earlier in the day. He felt a stirring in his loins. He fought the image off and refused to think any further of it. She noticed how quiet he had gotten and moved closer.
"Thank you." she whispered.
"For what?" he asked.
“For taking my arrow earlier. I am not completely oblivious you know." She smirked. She put her arm on his shoulder and ran her thumb crossed the bandage.
“The old mage must know some powerful magic to heal this so quickly." she murmured. He again felt the lust return. This was not good. He needed to end this, now.
"Ouch." It was an obvious farce but he had to try. He was already to the point where his excitement would be noticed if she pushed further.
"I need to go see him again. I think you tore it open." He rose from the bed.
“I will alert the guard at the door. Do not leave this room for anything. I shall return soon.” He turned and in the moonlight his shadow betrayed him. She wanted to see how much of a man he was. Was he really immune to her? She was excited with the answer she had received. She hadn’t thought there was a chink in his iron will. Not where she was concerned anyway. His shadow, it whispered his lie to her. He wasn't in pain. His rejection stung. Damn it all, she wished she didn’t care. As he threw his robe on and headed out the door she willed him silently to stay. She took deep breaths. Bad idea, his scent was everywhere. She buried her face into a pillow, sinking in deeper. She gave a stretch, arching her back languidly, relaxing. He spoke a few words to the three guards at the door. They nodded and he was off. Taking one more deep breath of him she pushed her jealousy aside and tried to go back to sleep.
He knew exactly where he was headed. The servants quarters. He opened the door and entered. A body stirred on the bed. He went quickly to her, desperate to purge himself of the tiny forbidden woman in his bed. Without warning he slapped her ass.
"Awake. I have need of you" She startled quickly awake fumbling at her clothes.
"Do not bother." He said as he pushed up her skirt. He pulled his already hard member out and ripped her underwear off with the other hand. He noted they were lacy black hip huggers, he tossed them quickly aside. There was no foreplay, no gentleness. He slammed into her. A moan escaped her mouth. She begged him to stop at first. Then she released herself to him. He mercilessly entered her again and again.
The thoughts of the princess dancing in his mind. He imagined it was her firm backside he was grabbing. That her sweet perfume was on the skin rubbing against him. The body throbbed beneath him. She was in agony/ecstasy at the same time. He went at her with an animal’s intensity. His only goal to release his mind and his loins of the princess. The moistness of her groin spilling down his shaft and onto her bed. Her climax caught him. He stiffened and grabbed her hair pulling her onto him harder. He forced his member deeper into her and with his other arm moved her legs on to his shoulders. With full access to her wet pussy his lust was coming to a head. His balls tightened as he released into her. He spasmed and was done. When done he said nothing, just stood up and walked back to his room.
He laid down next to the princess. His lust spent he could move closer before drifted off to sleep. Two can play this game he thought as his eyes closed. Let him think he’d gotten away with something. What did she care anyway? Part of her considered him hers. He had after all been her fierce defender. In truth she wanted to keep him. Though she also it would never happen. She knew how he saw her. His annoying charge, a naughty little girl, like her pet name implied. It was so frustrating. Still, if she had stirred him then perhaps there was a chance.