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drownedinlight So I guess this is what she meant by shitty first drafts. There's so much about this I don't like: for instance, there are a lot of pronouns in this. Sorry.
The night rested at its darkest, the moon, just sunk beneath the horizon. Grey clouds rolled against the sky, which you could only see if you looked ever so closely, but you could see the fragrant fog they left behind as they stretched out.
She waited against a tree—she had been waiting all night, waiting for only the stars to light the way, it to be darkest before dawn. She had watched the moons to time herself just right before going to the king about rescuing his daughter from a rival of his. He had put out, subtly of course, that great riches awaited the one who could get the young princess back to him. But she did not quite believe in promises. Naturally, she demanded half a reward before she even set out.
But she had done all of her planning, and now she stood here, waiting for the right moment to charge against the castle. She watched carefully as the guard she had in sight began to move from his place, no doubt focusing on retreating to a bed for the night. She ran, with all speed with her, her surrounding a blur until she pressed herself into the cold stone of the castle wall. She took a breath and stepped back. There was not a guard in sight, and if she was correct, she had mere minutes until a replacement would come.
She reached behind her, and pulled an arrow from a light quiver, making quick work tying a long rope to the end, before reaching for a cross bow strapped there, and shooting the bolt high in the air. It stuck, and she pulled on the rope, testing the strength, before she slung the cross bow across her back, and began to climb, grabbing the rope with both her hands and legs, pulling her up in under a minute. The arrow had landed in the middle of the parapet and she cursed herself for being so sloppy. She broke the arrow at the point where the shaft met the head, and hoped that any guard was wearing heavy boots as he patrolled, before she quickly wound the rest of the rope, shoving it into her hip bag as she ran along the parapet.
Keeping towards the dark walls, she ran along a previously memorized route, keeping a sharp eye for when she would need to dart behind a wall if she saw a guard or someone else walking the corridors. As she came further and further in, though the fewer men there were to make sure no one had invaded. She had suspected that there might be such a plan—protect the outer walls and no one’s sure to get in. Disappointment swelled in her theory as there were two guards stationed outside of the princess’ door, armed and fully awake.
Swearing without speaking, she calculated her odds. If she put them to sleep, and she had gas pellets to do so, there relief would likely come along soon enough, probably sooner than the other guards, which would shorten her time she needed to escape. But she was this far in, and unless she could find another way, she would have to beat a hasty retreat, and never see the rest of her reward. It was then she noticed that a large, glass covered window illuminated the guards. Perhaps there might be another such window in the room they were guarding?
She would have to think quickly and remember the plans for the castle. Using the corridor she was in, she ran along it, until she came to one that stood adjacent to where the Princess’s room would have been. There two was a window, but no guards. She went toward it, opening it to reveal a courtyard. She grabbed the rope she had stuffed in her bag, untying it from the broken bolt and tying it to a fresh arrow, and shooting across the courtyard, getting the arrow just to the side of the princess’s window. She gripped the rope tightly in her hands, stepping off of the window ledge, her feet out in front of her to brace against the stone wall.
She landed with more of an impact that she would have, but safe. The window ledge stood only a foot away and she reached it easily stepping on, and retrieving a thin knife from her belt to undo the latch bound from inside. The window opened, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her.
The princess slept on a large bed, in a white night dress, her fair hair spread over a pillow. Placing a hand over the sleeping girl’s mouth, she pinched the princess who woke. The girl noticed her finger across her lips and did not make a sound until she moved her hand from the girl’s mouth.
“Who are you?” the princess asked.
“Quietly, princess,” she warned. “There are still guards outside your door. Quickly, get up, I have clothes for you change into.”
“Why should I do what you want?” the girl asked.
“Because your father sent me.” As proof, she pulled out from underneath her tunic the royal signet hanging from a cord around her neck. The princess bit her lip, but swung her legs free from the bed and stood. She nodded, and removed black leggings and a long sleeved, close fitting tunic and a pair of black boots, similar to those she wore. The princess grimaced and opened her mouth to ask something, but when she was shushed again, she slipped free from her night dress, and accepted the garments.
“What can I call you?” the princess whispered.
“You call me nothing, it is better that way,” she replied.
“Haven’t you a name?” the princess asked. “You could call me by my name: it’s Delindra.”
“I know. Change, quickly. I don’t want anyone noticing the rope.” Delindra frowned again, but pulled on the three items, and turned back the woman for further instruction. “Follow me.”
The woman moved toward the window, and told Delindra to step up onto the ledge with her, and hold on tightly. With Delindra gripping her just around her bust, she grabbed her rope, slithering down it, letting it slip through her gloved hands, and thighs, until she hung just a few feet above the ground. She pulled hard until the shaft broke, and she landed on her feet.
Taking the princess by the hand, she pulled the girl along the halls of the castle, until they reached a stable. She could not see or hear anyone, and so chose to enter, choosing two strong and fast looking mounts and helping the princess to saddle them before they climbed atop them. The girl shivered in the air, and so she removed two cloaks from her bag, handing one to Delindra, before she wrapped one around her own figure.
The fog was thick now, as she thought it would be, and the rain was beginning to trickle down from the sky. They rode the horse out at a trot until they reached the forest beyond the castle walls. Only when she thought they would not be heard, did she tell Delindra to kick her horse into a gallop and did the same for her own.
They rode for many hours until the horses could take no more, but by then they had nearly reached her home, near the mountain pass of Kilan, an unconquerable land by both kings. They allowed the horses to slow, the closer they got to steeper ground, and when they came to the hill before her home, she stopped her steed, and dismounted. Dilandra copied her as she led her mount into a small stable just off of the mountain path. The stable hand had just awakened and greeted them with weary eyes, but took the reins for both horses calling to another hostler to help him.
She took Delindra by the hand, and led her up the hill toward the manor surrounded by a large gate. Her own guards recognized her in a moment and opened the gate immediately, allowing her and Delindra into the outer courtyard before the manor. The doors opened up for her again, and she was greeted by the matron of the house, with her maids, and her steward.
“Welcome home, milady,” the steward greeted with a small bow, the matron and the maids echoing the greeting.
“Thank you Jestre,” she replied, removing her cloak and handing it to one of the maids. “Matron Serika, please take her highness to a suite, assign her a maid to help her bathe and ready for a few hours’ sleep. I will give you further instruction when you return. Jestre, follow me, if you would.” Delindra, who still held her hand, gripped it tightly. She turned and gripped the girl’s shoulders. “Do not worry, child, you are no prisoner here, I only want you to get some rest. I go now to send a letter to your father to tell him you are safe.”
“Do you promise?” she asked, her long, white lashes fluttering against her eyes.
“Yes, I promise,” she said. Delindra let go of her and followed the matron deeper into the manor. As soon as the girl was out of sight, she turned, and motioned to Jestre to follow her in another direction to her study.
“Do you really intend to tell the king, milady?” Jestre asked.
“Of course,” she replied. “I also expect the rest of the price I was promised. The girl was worth quite a bit, truly.”
“Is that the only reason you rescued her?” he asked, making her stop, and stare at him for a moment before she continued walking.
“She raised you to be too perceptive.”
“She raised me to be your steward and occasionally question your motives,” he retorted, following still behind her. “Will you answer?”
“The girl will be queen, Jestre,” she said. “She needs to know that there can be strong women, women you can break into castles, and women who can rule countries without a man to do it for them. With them perhaps but…” she trailed off when she felt his hand encircle hers. She turned, looking him in the eye.
“Mehtas…” he whispered, just before she leaned forward to kiss him.
He embraced her fully, before pressing her into the wall, until there was no space between them or behind her, to prevent his kiss from falling on her lips. They moved and meshed as one, lips and tongues colliding together as each of them grabbed for the other, grabbed for any part of them, just trying to find some contact, just a little touch. Mehtas pulled away from him, gripping his hand more firmly.
“Come,” she said, pulling him down the hall. He ran beside her diligently, until they reached her suite of rooms, passing by the study for her bed, where they fell together. Kisses touched where ever they could reach, on skin that began to show more and more, as Mehtas and Jestre reached for each other, pulling at the clothe that wrapped around them, until there was nothing left keeping them from touching one another.
Mehtas woke, with the warm rays of midday covering her body. No doubt, Jestre had left her to sleep, and gone off to finish his own duties. She arose, clad herself in only in the clean chemise left for her at the foot of her bed, and moved slowly toward the study. She entered, to see Jestre’s back to her, as he sat writing at her desk.
She approached him, her bare feet making no sound against the plush rug, and kissed his neck. He turned, so that when she leaned in a second time, it allowed their lips to meet.
“I was just writing that letter to the king, you promised the young princess,” he reported. “All it should need is your signature.”
Mehtas sat, positioning herself in his lap to look at the letter. It was brief and to the point, as she preferred and she signed, sealing it up with her signet. Jestre rain his fingers along her thighs as she poured the hot wax on the letter. “The princess has been asking for you.” She scoffed as she pressed the stamp into the wax.
“I hope you did not intend to have repeat performance of before with such a line,” she retorted.
“No, only stating a fact,” he said, lifting up from underneath her. Mehtas stood, setting him free. He took her chin in his hand, kissing her lightly. “I must attend to my duties. Will you want me tonight?”
“We shall have to see what today brings, but I always sleep better with you by my side,” she said, kissing him back. “Please come and lay with me a little?”
“Of course.” He stepped away from her pressing out the wrinkles in his tunic and suit. “I shall call for a maid to come and attend to you. What should the princess be told?”
“She will be received when I am bathed, dressed and fed. After an hour perhaps, but no more than two,” Mehtas replied, moving toward her bedroom door. She grasped the letter and held it out to him. “Also, please have this delivered by hawk to the king. I’m sure he’ll be interested to know his daughter is alive and well.” Jestre took it, and with a small bow, exited the study.
3/16/11 WC: 2248
Piece Count: Same
Project Count: 39082
The night rested at its darkest, the moon, just sunk beneath the horizon. Grey clouds rolled against the sky, which you could only see if you looked ever so closely, but you could see the fragrant fog they left behind as they stretched out.
She waited against a tree—she had been waiting all night, waiting for only the stars to light the way, it to be darkest before dawn. She had watched the moons to time herself just right before going to the king about rescuing his daughter from a rival of his. He had put out, subtly of course, that great riches awaited the one who could get the young princess back to him. But she did not quite believe in promises. Naturally, she demanded half a reward before she even set out.
But she had done all of her planning, and now she stood here, waiting for the right moment to charge against the castle. She watched carefully as the guard she had in sight began to move from his place, no doubt focusing on retreating to a bed for the night. She ran, with all speed with her, her surrounding a blur until she pressed herself into the cold stone of the castle wall. She took a breath and stepped back. There was not a guard in sight, and if she was correct, she had mere minutes until a replacement would come.
She reached behind her, and pulled an arrow from a light quiver, making quick work tying a long rope to the end, before reaching for a cross bow strapped there, and shooting the bolt high in the air. It stuck, and she pulled on the rope, testing the strength, before she slung the cross bow across her back, and began to climb, grabbing the rope with both her hands and legs, pulling her up in under a minute. The arrow had landed in the middle of the parapet and she cursed herself for being so sloppy. She broke the arrow at the point where the shaft met the head, and hoped that any guard was wearing heavy boots as he patrolled, before she quickly wound the rest of the rope, shoving it into her hip bag as she ran along the parapet.
Keeping towards the dark walls, she ran along a previously memorized route, keeping a sharp eye for when she would need to dart behind a wall if she saw a guard or someone else walking the corridors. As she came further and further in, though the fewer men there were to make sure no one had invaded. She had suspected that there might be such a plan—protect the outer walls and no one’s sure to get in. Disappointment swelled in her theory as there were two guards stationed outside of the princess’ door, armed and fully awake.
Swearing without speaking, she calculated her odds. If she put them to sleep, and she had gas pellets to do so, there relief would likely come along soon enough, probably sooner than the other guards, which would shorten her time she needed to escape. But she was this far in, and unless she could find another way, she would have to beat a hasty retreat, and never see the rest of her reward. It was then she noticed that a large, glass covered window illuminated the guards. Perhaps there might be another such window in the room they were guarding?
She would have to think quickly and remember the plans for the castle. Using the corridor she was in, she ran along it, until she came to one that stood adjacent to where the Princess’s room would have been. There two was a window, but no guards. She went toward it, opening it to reveal a courtyard. She grabbed the rope she had stuffed in her bag, untying it from the broken bolt and tying it to a fresh arrow, and shooting across the courtyard, getting the arrow just to the side of the princess’s window. She gripped the rope tightly in her hands, stepping off of the window ledge, her feet out in front of her to brace against the stone wall.
She landed with more of an impact that she would have, but safe. The window ledge stood only a foot away and she reached it easily stepping on, and retrieving a thin knife from her belt to undo the latch bound from inside. The window opened, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her.
The princess slept on a large bed, in a white night dress, her fair hair spread over a pillow. Placing a hand over the sleeping girl’s mouth, she pinched the princess who woke. The girl noticed her finger across her lips and did not make a sound until she moved her hand from the girl’s mouth.
“Who are you?” the princess asked.
“Quietly, princess,” she warned. “There are still guards outside your door. Quickly, get up, I have clothes for you change into.”
“Why should I do what you want?” the girl asked.
“Because your father sent me.” As proof, she pulled out from underneath her tunic the royal signet hanging from a cord around her neck. The princess bit her lip, but swung her legs free from the bed and stood. She nodded, and removed black leggings and a long sleeved, close fitting tunic and a pair of black boots, similar to those she wore. The princess grimaced and opened her mouth to ask something, but when she was shushed again, she slipped free from her night dress, and accepted the garments.
“What can I call you?” the princess whispered.
“You call me nothing, it is better that way,” she replied.
“Haven’t you a name?” the princess asked. “You could call me by my name: it’s Delindra.”
“I know. Change, quickly. I don’t want anyone noticing the rope.” Delindra frowned again, but pulled on the three items, and turned back the woman for further instruction. “Follow me.”
The woman moved toward the window, and told Delindra to step up onto the ledge with her, and hold on tightly. With Delindra gripping her just around her bust, she grabbed her rope, slithering down it, letting it slip through her gloved hands, and thighs, until she hung just a few feet above the ground. She pulled hard until the shaft broke, and she landed on her feet.
Taking the princess by the hand, she pulled the girl along the halls of the castle, until they reached a stable. She could not see or hear anyone, and so chose to enter, choosing two strong and fast looking mounts and helping the princess to saddle them before they climbed atop them. The girl shivered in the air, and so she removed two cloaks from her bag, handing one to Delindra, before she wrapped one around her own figure.
The fog was thick now, as she thought it would be, and the rain was beginning to trickle down from the sky. They rode the horse out at a trot until they reached the forest beyond the castle walls. Only when she thought they would not be heard, did she tell Delindra to kick her horse into a gallop and did the same for her own.
They rode for many hours until the horses could take no more, but by then they had nearly reached her home, near the mountain pass of Kilan, an unconquerable land by both kings. They allowed the horses to slow, the closer they got to steeper ground, and when they came to the hill before her home, she stopped her steed, and dismounted. Dilandra copied her as she led her mount into a small stable just off of the mountain path. The stable hand had just awakened and greeted them with weary eyes, but took the reins for both horses calling to another hostler to help him.
She took Delindra by the hand, and led her up the hill toward the manor surrounded by a large gate. Her own guards recognized her in a moment and opened the gate immediately, allowing her and Delindra into the outer courtyard before the manor. The doors opened up for her again, and she was greeted by the matron of the house, with her maids, and her steward.
“Welcome home, milady,” the steward greeted with a small bow, the matron and the maids echoing the greeting.
“Thank you Jestre,” she replied, removing her cloak and handing it to one of the maids. “Matron Serika, please take her highness to a suite, assign her a maid to help her bathe and ready for a few hours’ sleep. I will give you further instruction when you return. Jestre, follow me, if you would.” Delindra, who still held her hand, gripped it tightly. She turned and gripped the girl’s shoulders. “Do not worry, child, you are no prisoner here, I only want you to get some rest. I go now to send a letter to your father to tell him you are safe.”
“Do you promise?” she asked, her long, white lashes fluttering against her eyes.
“Yes, I promise,” she said. Delindra let go of her and followed the matron deeper into the manor. As soon as the girl was out of sight, she turned, and motioned to Jestre to follow her in another direction to her study.
“Do you really intend to tell the king, milady?” Jestre asked.
“Of course,” she replied. “I also expect the rest of the price I was promised. The girl was worth quite a bit, truly.”
“Is that the only reason you rescued her?” he asked, making her stop, and stare at him for a moment before she continued walking.
“She raised you to be too perceptive.”
“She raised me to be your steward and occasionally question your motives,” he retorted, following still behind her. “Will you answer?”
“The girl will be queen, Jestre,” she said. “She needs to know that there can be strong women, women you can break into castles, and women who can rule countries without a man to do it for them. With them perhaps but…” she trailed off when she felt his hand encircle hers. She turned, looking him in the eye.
“Mehtas…” he whispered, just before she leaned forward to kiss him.
He embraced her fully, before pressing her into the wall, until there was no space between them or behind her, to prevent his kiss from falling on her lips. They moved and meshed as one, lips and tongues colliding together as each of them grabbed for the other, grabbed for any part of them, just trying to find some contact, just a little touch. Mehtas pulled away from him, gripping his hand more firmly.
“Come,” she said, pulling him down the hall. He ran beside her diligently, until they reached her suite of rooms, passing by the study for her bed, where they fell together. Kisses touched where ever they could reach, on skin that began to show more and more, as Mehtas and Jestre reached for each other, pulling at the clothe that wrapped around them, until there was nothing left keeping them from touching one another.
Mehtas woke, with the warm rays of midday covering her body. No doubt, Jestre had left her to sleep, and gone off to finish his own duties. She arose, clad herself in only in the clean chemise left for her at the foot of her bed, and moved slowly toward the study. She entered, to see Jestre’s back to her, as he sat writing at her desk.
She approached him, her bare feet making no sound against the plush rug, and kissed his neck. He turned, so that when she leaned in a second time, it allowed their lips to meet.
“I was just writing that letter to the king, you promised the young princess,” he reported. “All it should need is your signature.”
Mehtas sat, positioning herself in his lap to look at the letter. It was brief and to the point, as she preferred and she signed, sealing it up with her signet. Jestre rain his fingers along her thighs as she poured the hot wax on the letter. “The princess has been asking for you.” She scoffed as she pressed the stamp into the wax.
“I hope you did not intend to have repeat performance of before with such a line,” she retorted.
“No, only stating a fact,” he said, lifting up from underneath her. Mehtas stood, setting him free. He took her chin in his hand, kissing her lightly. “I must attend to my duties. Will you want me tonight?”
“We shall have to see what today brings, but I always sleep better with you by my side,” she said, kissing him back. “Please come and lay with me a little?”
“Of course.” He stepped away from her pressing out the wrinkles in his tunic and suit. “I shall call for a maid to come and attend to you. What should the princess be told?”
“She will be received when I am bathed, dressed and fed. After an hour perhaps, but no more than two,” Mehtas replied, moving toward her bedroom door. She grasped the letter and held it out to him. “Also, please have this delivered by hawk to the king. I’m sure he’ll be interested to know his daughter is alive and well.” Jestre took it, and with a small bow, exited the study.
3/16/11 WC: 2248
Piece Count: Same
Project Count: 39082
Just Started: Trickster by Matt Dembecki
