The Care and Handling of Princesses (or other high born women) - Part 1/4 - PG-13
Okay, there is hope for "Queen Mab". I need to re-watch the first ep to make sure I have the wording right, but then it will be done!
But while I'm waiting to get my hands on that ep, I started another guys group fic. Here we go...
Disclamer:
I do not own: Wyatt Cain, Malcom Reynolds, Han Solo, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kanobi, Aragorn, Faramir, or the Great Maud'Dib.
I do own: the laptop on which I wrote this, and not much else.
Cain was walking down one of the many hallways in the palace. When something out of the corner of his eye caused him to stop in his tracks. All the doors on this floor of the palace were made of a dark wood with gold handles, but this door that Cain had just passed was different. It was metal, panted a dull off-white, and there was a small window set above the steel knob. Cain glanced through the window and was surprised to see several odd looking men milling around, What on earth?
Cain opened the door and stepped into the room in the hope that he might find out just what what going on.
“Well, glad to see the last one didn't scare you off.”
Cain turned to see Mal walking over to him, and there on the wall just past Mal was a sign that said, “We rouges have to stick together!”
“Mal.” Cain said as the other man took his hand and gave it a hearty shake.
Mal smiled at the confused look on Cain's face. “I told ya there were other meetings.”
“If you could all just sit down... now!” A sharp voice range out from the circle of chairs. “Come on,” Mal said with a smile. “I'll show ya the ropes.”
The two men sat down and Cain had a chance to look over the other men in the group. There was a broad chested man who was dressed in some type of uniform with a silver tree emblazoned on it.
Sitting to his right was a tall man who was wearing a hooded cloak, he pushed the hood back as he sat and Cain could see dark hair and a beard that was in need of a trim. In sharp contrast, the man sitting next to him had a vary well groomed beard. But Cain snorted at seeing the man's full sleeved, white tunic. Must not be a fighter.
“I said sit down.” A man with sandy hair and a dark vest was looking at young man in black robes. Looks just like that other guys. “What gives you the right to tell me what to do.” The younger man said with venom in his voice. The older man hit his palm against his forehead a few times, “Why me? Why?”
“That's Solo.” Mal said to Cain in a low voice. “The kid is his father-in-law.”
“What!” Cain looked at Mal to see if he was joking. “Yeah, source material is a bitch.” The smile on Mal's face showed more glee then could be gained in a joke. “And to make it even worse, Obi-Wan is here.” “Obi-Wan?” Mal jerked a thumb at the man in the white robes. “There'll be a show today!” Cain looked back to Obi-Wan who was avoiding the scene happening by talking to the man sitting next to him. The man wore some kind of form-fitting suite that left only his eye exposed, and what eyes they were. And I though my eyes were blue.
“Fine! Let's just get this over with.” The kid lifted a hand and one of the empty seats went flying across the room. He stepped through the gap and flopped into a chair.
Solo walked into the circle after the younger man and looked around at the group. “Name's Solo, let's do this. Who wants to go first?” he asked as he sat down.
The man in the body suite raised his hand.
“Go ahead, um...” Solo looked at a paper in his hand.
The man removed the face cover and said, “Paul.”
“Paul.” Solo repeated.
“Actually I was wondering if I could be excused.”
Solo looked back at the paper, “Say's here you're married to a Princess.”
“Yes, a political marriage. Now Iruian is a wonderful woman; friendly to my lover and a kind aunt to my children. Her greatest enjoyment is her writing.” A groan went up from the group. “History.” Paul added. “Current events, and she has declared herself my biographer.”
“But no real relationship?” Solo asked. “That's correct, sir.”
“Fine.” Solo said
Paul stood and gave a small bow to the group, “Bless the Maker and all His Water.” Then he walked over to the door and left.
This is sort of a sequel to "Hello, My Name Is...", but you don't have to read that for this story to make sense (like this story will make sense! Here be crack!fic.)
Part Two this way!
But while I'm waiting to get my hands on that ep, I started another guys group fic. Here we go...
Disclamer:
I do not own: Wyatt Cain, Malcom Reynolds, Han Solo, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kanobi, Aragorn, Faramir, or the Great Maud'Dib.
I do own: the laptop on which I wrote this, and not much else.
Cain was walking down one of the many hallways in the palace. When something out of the corner of his eye caused him to stop in his tracks. All the doors on this floor of the palace were made of a dark wood with gold handles, but this door that Cain had just passed was different. It was metal, panted a dull off-white, and there was a small window set above the steel knob. Cain glanced through the window and was surprised to see several odd looking men milling around, What on earth?
Cain opened the door and stepped into the room in the hope that he might find out just what what going on.
“Well, glad to see the last one didn't scare you off.”
Cain turned to see Mal walking over to him, and there on the wall just past Mal was a sign that said, “We rouges have to stick together!”
“Mal.” Cain said as the other man took his hand and gave it a hearty shake.
Mal smiled at the confused look on Cain's face. “I told ya there were other meetings.”
“If you could all just sit down... now!” A sharp voice range out from the circle of chairs. “Come on,” Mal said with a smile. “I'll show ya the ropes.”
The two men sat down and Cain had a chance to look over the other men in the group. There was a broad chested man who was dressed in some type of uniform with a silver tree emblazoned on it.
Sitting to his right was a tall man who was wearing a hooded cloak, he pushed the hood back as he sat and Cain could see dark hair and a beard that was in need of a trim. In sharp contrast, the man sitting next to him had a vary well groomed beard. But Cain snorted at seeing the man's full sleeved, white tunic. Must not be a fighter.
“I said sit down.” A man with sandy hair and a dark vest was looking at young man in black robes. Looks just like that other guys. “What gives you the right to tell me what to do.” The younger man said with venom in his voice. The older man hit his palm against his forehead a few times, “Why me? Why?”
“That's Solo.” Mal said to Cain in a low voice. “The kid is his father-in-law.”
“What!” Cain looked at Mal to see if he was joking. “Yeah, source material is a bitch.” The smile on Mal's face showed more glee then could be gained in a joke. “And to make it even worse, Obi-Wan is here.” “Obi-Wan?” Mal jerked a thumb at the man in the white robes. “There'll be a show today!” Cain looked back to Obi-Wan who was avoiding the scene happening by talking to the man sitting next to him. The man wore some kind of form-fitting suite that left only his eye exposed, and what eyes they were. And I though my eyes were blue.
“Fine! Let's just get this over with.” The kid lifted a hand and one of the empty seats went flying across the room. He stepped through the gap and flopped into a chair.
Solo walked into the circle after the younger man and looked around at the group. “Name's Solo, let's do this. Who wants to go first?” he asked as he sat down.
The man in the body suite raised his hand.
“Go ahead, um...” Solo looked at a paper in his hand.
The man removed the face cover and said, “Paul.”
“Paul.” Solo repeated.
“Actually I was wondering if I could be excused.”
Solo looked back at the paper, “Say's here you're married to a Princess.”
“Yes, a political marriage. Now Iruian is a wonderful woman; friendly to my lover and a kind aunt to my children. Her greatest enjoyment is her writing.” A groan went up from the group. “History.” Paul added. “Current events, and she has declared herself my biographer.”
“But no real relationship?” Solo asked. “That's correct, sir.”
“Fine.” Solo said
Paul stood and gave a small bow to the group, “Bless the Maker and all His Water.” Then he walked over to the door and left.
This is sort of a sequel to "Hello, My Name Is...", but you don't have to read that for this story to make sense (like this story will make sense! Here be crack!fic.)
Part Two this way!