- Love, Honor, Obey -
Jul. 3rd, 2010 12:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notasuggestionHelga Sinclair
Atlantis: The Lost Empire
895 words
Mercenaries and marriage vows don't mix well.
The small parlor served as a warm haven from the chill of the February air. A fire blazed in the grate, and its shadows danced across the walls, alternatively illuminating the faces of the occupants and throwing them into shadow. The broad man in the armchair nearest the fire carried himself like a king, and the sleek woman on the divan stretched herself slightly. She looked across the room at her companion, and her lips curled into a faint smirk.
“You never disappoint,” she murmured.
He laughed and leaned back. “Too much disappointment, and you might get bored. I can’t have that.”
“Oh, I doubt—”
She stopped abruptly as the front door opened. The woman sat up and reached under the nearby table. Her finger curled around the trigger of her Peacemaker as she watched the parlor door. Footsteps drew closer then stopped. The door eased open.
“Christopher.” She let herself breathe. As she lowered the gun, she looked at the man in the doorway. He was large, but the man in the chair was taller and had wider shoulders. Dressed in his army uniform and wearing a displeased expression, the newcomer almost looked intimidating. “I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow.”
The man looked from his wife to the man in his chair to his wife again. “Obviously.” He narrowed his eyes at the man. “Rourke.”
“Jenkins.”
“It’s rather late to be entertaining company, isn’t it, Helga?” Lieutenant Christopher Jenkins asked the blonde woman.
His wife only smiled. “I suppose Captain Rourke and I simply lost track of time,” she replied. She crossed the room, abandoning her gun, and she stroked her husband’s cheek. “Old friends will do that.”
The man seized her wrist and held it firmly. “You’re flushed.”
“I’ve been in front of the fire.” Helga tensed and lightly pulled away, but Christopher kept hold. Under her breath, she muttered, “Let go.”
“I’m not going to let you make a fool of me.”
“Jenkins.” Rourke rose, and his voice carried a warning. The lieutenant released the woman, and she narrowed her eyes.
Christopher looked at Rourke. “Get out.”
“No,” Helga said. She cocked her head. “Lyle, do sit back down. We’re not finished with our conversation.” She glared at Christopher. “Besides, you promised me a game of chess.”
“I said for him to leave.”
His wife laughed. “Do you think I take orders from you?”
“You damn well better!”
“A little late to change the rules now, Christopher. You knew what you were getting when you proposed. I made it very clear—”
“Helga,” Christopher said warningly.
She continued, undaunted. “I do what I please with whom I please.”
The lieutenant said nothing more. He brought the back of his hand across his wife’s cheek. She turned her head with the force of the blow and took a step back to steady herself. He raised his hand to strike another blow. “I won’t be spoken to like that!”
A moment later, Christopher’s face slammed into the parlor door. His arm was twisted back behind him, and all efforts to free himself proved useless.
“Any real man,” Rourke said, his usually even voice laced with anger, “wouldn’t need to hit a woman to make himself feel powerful. Why shouldn’t I break your arm in five places?”
“I’ll have you arrested,” Christopher snapped. Rourke forced his arm back further, and the lieutenant cried out. “Helga!” he shouted. “Call him off! Now!”
“Why should she?” Rourke replied. “And what makes you think I’d listen?”
“Helga!” Christopher’s voice filled with rage. “Call him off! Or I’ll divorce you. I can ruin you! Throw you out on the street.”
“Coward. Threatening her now?” The captain changed his grip, preparing to shatter the bone.
“Captain.” Helga touched Rourke’s arm. “Let him go.”
“Helga,” Rourke said, but she shook her head.
“He’s right, Rourke. I am his wife. I made my vows, and I must honor them.”
“At least you see sense,” Christopher muttered as Rourke released him. He rubbed his arm.
Helga averted her eyes demurely. “May I show Captain Rourke out, darling?”
The lieutenant glared but nodded. He watched as his wife and the other man went down the hall and out the front door.
Outside, Helga Jenkins clenched her first and glared at the door. “How dare he!”
“You let him,” Rourke pointed out. When the woman frowned, he cupped her chin to look at her face. “He’s a coward.”
“But he can ruin me.” She looked up at him. “Even your influence might not be enough to get us financial backers if he makes a scandal of this.”
“I doubt he’s going to part with you for any sort of expedition.”
Helga’s eyes narrowed. “Like he can keep me away. I’ll kill him if I have to.”
“Really?” Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them.
Helga spoke quietly. “If anyone suspects—”
“Leave it to me.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Play with him.” He stepped close to her and drew her near. “Be the good little missus: penitent, obedient, docile.” He kissed her hard. “And have your black ready.”
Helga watched him depart and remained on the porch a few moments, letting the cold air brace her, cool her anger. When she returned inside, she found her husband in his study. She silenced his apology with a gentle kiss.
Atlantis: The Lost Empire
895 words
Mercenaries and marriage vows don't mix well.
The small parlor served as a warm haven from the chill of the February air. A fire blazed in the grate, and its shadows danced across the walls, alternatively illuminating the faces of the occupants and throwing them into shadow. The broad man in the armchair nearest the fire carried himself like a king, and the sleek woman on the divan stretched herself slightly. She looked across the room at her companion, and her lips curled into a faint smirk.
“You never disappoint,” she murmured.
He laughed and leaned back. “Too much disappointment, and you might get bored. I can’t have that.”
“Oh, I doubt—”
She stopped abruptly as the front door opened. The woman sat up and reached under the nearby table. Her finger curled around the trigger of her Peacemaker as she watched the parlor door. Footsteps drew closer then stopped. The door eased open.
“Christopher.” She let herself breathe. As she lowered the gun, she looked at the man in the doorway. He was large, but the man in the chair was taller and had wider shoulders. Dressed in his army uniform and wearing a displeased expression, the newcomer almost looked intimidating. “I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow.”
The man looked from his wife to the man in his chair to his wife again. “Obviously.” He narrowed his eyes at the man. “Rourke.”
“Jenkins.”
“It’s rather late to be entertaining company, isn’t it, Helga?” Lieutenant Christopher Jenkins asked the blonde woman.
His wife only smiled. “I suppose Captain Rourke and I simply lost track of time,” she replied. She crossed the room, abandoning her gun, and she stroked her husband’s cheek. “Old friends will do that.”
The man seized her wrist and held it firmly. “You’re flushed.”
“I’ve been in front of the fire.” Helga tensed and lightly pulled away, but Christopher kept hold. Under her breath, she muttered, “Let go.”
“I’m not going to let you make a fool of me.”
“Jenkins.” Rourke rose, and his voice carried a warning. The lieutenant released the woman, and she narrowed her eyes.
Christopher looked at Rourke. “Get out.”
“No,” Helga said. She cocked her head. “Lyle, do sit back down. We’re not finished with our conversation.” She glared at Christopher. “Besides, you promised me a game of chess.”
“I said for him to leave.”
His wife laughed. “Do you think I take orders from you?”
“You damn well better!”
“A little late to change the rules now, Christopher. You knew what you were getting when you proposed. I made it very clear—”
“Helga,” Christopher said warningly.
She continued, undaunted. “I do what I please with whom I please.”
The lieutenant said nothing more. He brought the back of his hand across his wife’s cheek. She turned her head with the force of the blow and took a step back to steady herself. He raised his hand to strike another blow. “I won’t be spoken to like that!”
A moment later, Christopher’s face slammed into the parlor door. His arm was twisted back behind him, and all efforts to free himself proved useless.
“Any real man,” Rourke said, his usually even voice laced with anger, “wouldn’t need to hit a woman to make himself feel powerful. Why shouldn’t I break your arm in five places?”
“I’ll have you arrested,” Christopher snapped. Rourke forced his arm back further, and the lieutenant cried out. “Helga!” he shouted. “Call him off! Now!”
“Why should she?” Rourke replied. “And what makes you think I’d listen?”
“Helga!” Christopher’s voice filled with rage. “Call him off! Or I’ll divorce you. I can ruin you! Throw you out on the street.”
“Coward. Threatening her now?” The captain changed his grip, preparing to shatter the bone.
“Captain.” Helga touched Rourke’s arm. “Let him go.”
“Helga,” Rourke said, but she shook her head.
“He’s right, Rourke. I am his wife. I made my vows, and I must honor them.”
“At least you see sense,” Christopher muttered as Rourke released him. He rubbed his arm.
Helga averted her eyes demurely. “May I show Captain Rourke out, darling?”
The lieutenant glared but nodded. He watched as his wife and the other man went down the hall and out the front door.
Outside, Helga Jenkins clenched her first and glared at the door. “How dare he!”
“You let him,” Rourke pointed out. When the woman frowned, he cupped her chin to look at her face. “He’s a coward.”
“But he can ruin me.” She looked up at him. “Even your influence might not be enough to get us financial backers if he makes a scandal of this.”
“I doubt he’s going to part with you for any sort of expedition.”
Helga’s eyes narrowed. “Like he can keep me away. I’ll kill him if I have to.”
“Really?” Their eyes met, and an understanding passed between them.
Helga spoke quietly. “If anyone suspects—”
“Leave it to me.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Play with him.” He stepped close to her and drew her near. “Be the good little missus: penitent, obedient, docile.” He kissed her hard. “And have your black ready.”
Helga watched him depart and remained on the porch a few moments, letting the cold air brace her, cool her anger. When she returned inside, she found her husband in his study. She silenced his apology with a gentle kiss.
