Post by wordy on Aug 10, 2012 11:31:53 GMT 10
Title: Careless love
Rating: G
Team: Emelan
Prompt: a long ride home
Word count: 246
Summary: Lady and the tramp.
He manages to dodge his way through the guards and their horses. Sandry watches and raises a hand, halting her men from throttling the young man. He’s lean and olive-skinned, a street kid grown, and when he flashes her a grateful smile she’s awfully glad that she’s ahorse because suddenly she feels rather weak at the knees.
“M’lady,” he says with a mocking bow, holding up his hand towards her; when he opens his fingers the blush-pink petals of a flower spring loose, uncurling on his palm. Sandry’s eyes jump to his face at the magic, but he merely smiles at her.
She can feel the watchful eyes of her guards on her, but nevertheless bends in the saddle to pluck the flower from the man’s hand. His fingers catch against hers as she pulls away. The touch sends a pleasant tingle up her arm. She hopes fervently that she isn’t blushing.
“Thank you,” she says, as regally as she is able, under the circumstances.
The young man winks and ducks away between the horses once more.
The ride back to the citadel seems to take longer than usual, and it’s only the presence of her guards that restrains her from glancing over her shoulder as they leave the marketplace. She peeks surreptitiously at the flower from time to time, careful not to crush its delicate petals, and if her cheeks appear warmer than usual then surely it’s only the effect of the warm afternoon sun.
Rating: G
Team: Emelan
Prompt: a long ride home
Word count: 246
Summary: Lady and the tramp.
He manages to dodge his way through the guards and their horses. Sandry watches and raises a hand, halting her men from throttling the young man. He’s lean and olive-skinned, a street kid grown, and when he flashes her a grateful smile she’s awfully glad that she’s ahorse because suddenly she feels rather weak at the knees.
“M’lady,” he says with a mocking bow, holding up his hand towards her; when he opens his fingers the blush-pink petals of a flower spring loose, uncurling on his palm. Sandry’s eyes jump to his face at the magic, but he merely smiles at her.
She can feel the watchful eyes of her guards on her, but nevertheless bends in the saddle to pluck the flower from the man’s hand. His fingers catch against hers as she pulls away. The touch sends a pleasant tingle up her arm. She hopes fervently that she isn’t blushing.
“Thank you,” she says, as regally as she is able, under the circumstances.
The young man winks and ducks away between the horses once more.
The ride back to the citadel seems to take longer than usual, and it’s only the presence of her guards that restrains her from glancing over her shoulder as they leave the marketplace. She peeks surreptitiously at the flower from time to time, careful not to crush its delicate petals, and if her cheeks appear warmer than usual then surely it’s only the effect of the warm afternoon sun.
