DISCLAIMER: The Pretender and all involved characters belong to TNT, they
bought and paid for them, I'm just stealing a little time. William Tell
isn't mine either. If you needed to be told that, go have your head
examined, or check your browser to note that you're on FANFICTION.net. That
should tell you something.
To Pose For A William Tell
"I don't think you understand how important this archery contest is to me, Angel," the old man stated, his blue eyes stern.
"Daddy, I'm trying to be polite, but I refuse to do this." The fact that he would even ask her to submit to doing something so dangerous for such a trivial reward reaffirmed her own obstinacy.
"Don't you trust me, sweetheart?"
Infuriated, Parker rose to leave the room. "All you've ever done is lie to me, Daddy. I don't think you can play the trust card on this one." She stormed out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her so hard straw fell from the roof. It was impossible that he could be so dense as to expect her to trust him. He was hardly the best archer in town, either. She would be surprised if he even made it to the final round of the competition, but she didn't want to agree and then have him luck out and hold her to her promise.
By the time her anger at her father subsided, Parker was in the center of the village, just outside of the Whistling Warbler. She entered, deciding that a drink with friends would help her completely forget about her father's ludicrous offer and allow her to regain her excitement over the upcoming archery competition.
Parker noted her friend Broots sitting at the bar and sat next to him. "Excited about the archery competition," she inquired, alerting him to her presence and startling the man.
"Oh, hello Parker, and I guess I am, but I'm not entering," he answered, looking back to his beer bashfully.
"Why not," she asked, honestly confused. Broots was easily one of the best archers in the village.
"I don't have anyone to stand for me in the final stage. I would never risk Debbie like that, and I wouldn't feel comfortable asking someone who isn't family," he answered honestly, taking a sip from his mug.
"Are you trying to ask me," she inquired sharply.
"No Miss Parker," he answered, looking up at her with real surprise.
"Okay then," she said, suddenly ashamed. Luckily and unluckily, further conversation was interrupted by the noisy entrance of Parker's twin brother.
"Hiya, sis!" Lyle was being charming.
"No, I will not stand for you in the archery competition," she replied, turning back to Broots.
"You didn't even let me ask," Lyle whined. "I'll make it worth your while!"
"No," Parker replied, not even bothering to look at him.
The day wore on and the next one followed. Parker fed her chickens, milked the cows, exercised the horses and soon it was noon. The archery contest was entertaining. Nearly every man in the village and a decent number of women were participating. Most of them were very good and it was one o'clock before ten finalists were selected to compete in the final stage.
The first to go was Sydney. His son, Nicholas, leaned calmly against the tree, allowing a loose rope to hold him in place as an apple was balanced on his head. Sydney stood twenty paces away, and calmly loosed an arrow. The shot was so high on the apple that it barely counted as a pierce. The other finalists had similar problems with high aim. If they hit the apple at all, it was barely. Mr. Parker noted this trouble and with his usual lack of understanding attributed it to a problem of terrain. As a result, he aimed too low, and pinned the blond hair of the barmaid Bridgette to the tree, his shot too wide to have hit the apple even if he'd aimed higher. Lyle hit his apple a little below the center, but his was by far the best hit. Every contestant had taken a turn and the winner was about to be declared. No one doubted that it would be Lyle although many hearts whispered that his lack of conscience gave him a distinct advantage.
Suddenly, a wagon drawn by two black chargers entered the square and interrupted the proceedings. "I have him," declared Mr. Raines, the evil old man at the reins.
Everyone gathered noted Jarod standing in the back of the cart, his hands and feet shackled tightly together. "He should be imprisoned for all eternity," Mr. Parker exclaimed happily, and no one gathered made any noise but in approval.
"He has no way out," Mr. Raines confirmed with joy.
"That isn't entirely true," Sydney stated mildly, earning him the complete attention of everyone gathered. "What?" He asked, surprised at the sudden attention. "All I mean is that the winner of the archery contest gets a boon from the King, and Jarod could ask for his freedom."
"The contest is over, it is too late for him to join," Lyle interjected quickly.
"That is not true either," the judge stated impartially. "The real contest is only the final round which has not yet ended. The competition leading up to that point is only to keep novices from hurting their friends. Everyone in the kingdom knows that Jarod is a brilliant archer, however, so it would be permissible for him to participate only in the final round."
"Be that as it may, he is my prisoner and not free to participate in contests," Raines insisted angrily.
"This contest is the mandate of the King," the judge stated firmly. "Any who wish to do so may participate. Do you wish to participate, Jarod?"
"I do," Jarod answered.
"But who will stand for you," Raines asked nastily. "I doubt anyone in the village of Centre has enough kindness in their heart to risk their life freeing you. It cannot be another competitor," he added, shooting a glare at Sydney.
"I will stand for him," Miss Parker declared, as much to enrage Mr. Raines as to help Jarod.
"Angel," Mr. Parker exclaimed, shocked and angry. Raines and Lyle both looked murderous, but no words escaped their tightly sealed lips. Sydney had a small smile gracing his face, and Broots, who was just about to volunteer, looked shocked.
"No," Jarod said, "I'd rather be imprisoned than endanger you."
Miss Parker was surprised that he would reject her offer, but it only made her more willing to help him. "With you behind the bow, what danger will I be in?" She smiled flippantly, and he bowed his head.
"Thank you, Parker," he murmured before turning to the judge. "If you will have my hands released that I might make my attempt, I promise not to run away."
"I will take your word on this, sir, release his hands, Mr. Raines," the Judge ordered. Raines protested vehemently and they argued for minutes before the old man finally capitulated and released his captive from bondage.
Everyone then returned to the field of competition where Parker waited patiently to be tied. "The rope has gone missing," Lyle announced. "We will have to postpone while we find some more."
"There is no need of that," Parker said evenly. "I trust Jarod and will not flinch."
"It will be unfair to him to have you unrestrained," the judge stated with concern.
"If she says she will not flinch she will not," Jarod said, an adoring smile adorning his face.
"It is your decision," the judge said frowning, and Lyle looked even angrier than before. Parker stood stoically while the apple was balanced carefully on her cranium and Jarod was shown the line. He stood there staring into her eyes for an eternal second before an arrow sprang from his quiver and imbedded itself in the exact center of her apple. The judge compared his apple to Lyle's carefully before judging Jarod the winner of the contest.
His freedom earned, Jarod sprinted over to Miss Parker and kissed her lips passionately to thank her.
Miss Parker was called into dreaded wakefulness by the incessant ringing of her telephone. "Jarod," she asked, sleepily pulling the receiver to her ear.
There was a syncopated half pause before the jovial reply assured her it was him. "It is a big improvement over what, but probably a dangerous way to answer your phone, Miss Parker."
"Only you would wake me from such a strange dream," she mumbled, sitting up.
"Was I there," Jarod teased pleasantly.
"Aren't you always," she flirted. "Did you have a reason to call, or did you just miss the sound of my insults?"
"I wanted to ask you if you've ever had anyone you could really trust," he said seriously and she noted a depression in his tone.
"Are you all right," she asked astutely.
"I'm sure you'll hear all about my betrayal at work tomorrow," he replied sadly. "The short version is a woman I've been seeing wasn't who I thought she was."
"I've been there, I had an interest in pharmaceuticals for a while, until I found out the only doctor he worked with went by the name of William Raines," Parker laughed sympathetically.
"I don't want to have to be paranoid," Jarod stated.
"This is another one of the areas where I have a slight advantage over you," Parker said, her voice still sympathetic.
"How so," he asked.
"Because, I know I can always trust you," she answered, hanging up.
To Pose For A William Tell
"I don't think you understand how important this archery contest is to me, Angel," the old man stated, his blue eyes stern.
"Daddy, I'm trying to be polite, but I refuse to do this." The fact that he would even ask her to submit to doing something so dangerous for such a trivial reward reaffirmed her own obstinacy.
"Don't you trust me, sweetheart?"
Infuriated, Parker rose to leave the room. "All you've ever done is lie to me, Daddy. I don't think you can play the trust card on this one." She stormed out of the cottage, slamming the door behind her so hard straw fell from the roof. It was impossible that he could be so dense as to expect her to trust him. He was hardly the best archer in town, either. She would be surprised if he even made it to the final round of the competition, but she didn't want to agree and then have him luck out and hold her to her promise.
By the time her anger at her father subsided, Parker was in the center of the village, just outside of the Whistling Warbler. She entered, deciding that a drink with friends would help her completely forget about her father's ludicrous offer and allow her to regain her excitement over the upcoming archery competition.
Parker noted her friend Broots sitting at the bar and sat next to him. "Excited about the archery competition," she inquired, alerting him to her presence and startling the man.
"Oh, hello Parker, and I guess I am, but I'm not entering," he answered, looking back to his beer bashfully.
"Why not," she asked, honestly confused. Broots was easily one of the best archers in the village.
"I don't have anyone to stand for me in the final stage. I would never risk Debbie like that, and I wouldn't feel comfortable asking someone who isn't family," he answered honestly, taking a sip from his mug.
"Are you trying to ask me," she inquired sharply.
"No Miss Parker," he answered, looking up at her with real surprise.
"Okay then," she said, suddenly ashamed. Luckily and unluckily, further conversation was interrupted by the noisy entrance of Parker's twin brother.
"Hiya, sis!" Lyle was being charming.
"No, I will not stand for you in the archery competition," she replied, turning back to Broots.
"You didn't even let me ask," Lyle whined. "I'll make it worth your while!"
"No," Parker replied, not even bothering to look at him.
The day wore on and the next one followed. Parker fed her chickens, milked the cows, exercised the horses and soon it was noon. The archery contest was entertaining. Nearly every man in the village and a decent number of women were participating. Most of them were very good and it was one o'clock before ten finalists were selected to compete in the final stage.
The first to go was Sydney. His son, Nicholas, leaned calmly against the tree, allowing a loose rope to hold him in place as an apple was balanced on his head. Sydney stood twenty paces away, and calmly loosed an arrow. The shot was so high on the apple that it barely counted as a pierce. The other finalists had similar problems with high aim. If they hit the apple at all, it was barely. Mr. Parker noted this trouble and with his usual lack of understanding attributed it to a problem of terrain. As a result, he aimed too low, and pinned the blond hair of the barmaid Bridgette to the tree, his shot too wide to have hit the apple even if he'd aimed higher. Lyle hit his apple a little below the center, but his was by far the best hit. Every contestant had taken a turn and the winner was about to be declared. No one doubted that it would be Lyle although many hearts whispered that his lack of conscience gave him a distinct advantage.
Suddenly, a wagon drawn by two black chargers entered the square and interrupted the proceedings. "I have him," declared Mr. Raines, the evil old man at the reins.
Everyone gathered noted Jarod standing in the back of the cart, his hands and feet shackled tightly together. "He should be imprisoned for all eternity," Mr. Parker exclaimed happily, and no one gathered made any noise but in approval.
"He has no way out," Mr. Raines confirmed with joy.
"That isn't entirely true," Sydney stated mildly, earning him the complete attention of everyone gathered. "What?" He asked, surprised at the sudden attention. "All I mean is that the winner of the archery contest gets a boon from the King, and Jarod could ask for his freedom."
"The contest is over, it is too late for him to join," Lyle interjected quickly.
"That is not true either," the judge stated impartially. "The real contest is only the final round which has not yet ended. The competition leading up to that point is only to keep novices from hurting their friends. Everyone in the kingdom knows that Jarod is a brilliant archer, however, so it would be permissible for him to participate only in the final round."
"Be that as it may, he is my prisoner and not free to participate in contests," Raines insisted angrily.
"This contest is the mandate of the King," the judge stated firmly. "Any who wish to do so may participate. Do you wish to participate, Jarod?"
"I do," Jarod answered.
"But who will stand for you," Raines asked nastily. "I doubt anyone in the village of Centre has enough kindness in their heart to risk their life freeing you. It cannot be another competitor," he added, shooting a glare at Sydney.
"I will stand for him," Miss Parker declared, as much to enrage Mr. Raines as to help Jarod.
"Angel," Mr. Parker exclaimed, shocked and angry. Raines and Lyle both looked murderous, but no words escaped their tightly sealed lips. Sydney had a small smile gracing his face, and Broots, who was just about to volunteer, looked shocked.
"No," Jarod said, "I'd rather be imprisoned than endanger you."
Miss Parker was surprised that he would reject her offer, but it only made her more willing to help him. "With you behind the bow, what danger will I be in?" She smiled flippantly, and he bowed his head.
"Thank you, Parker," he murmured before turning to the judge. "If you will have my hands released that I might make my attempt, I promise not to run away."
"I will take your word on this, sir, release his hands, Mr. Raines," the Judge ordered. Raines protested vehemently and they argued for minutes before the old man finally capitulated and released his captive from bondage.
Everyone then returned to the field of competition where Parker waited patiently to be tied. "The rope has gone missing," Lyle announced. "We will have to postpone while we find some more."
"There is no need of that," Parker said evenly. "I trust Jarod and will not flinch."
"It will be unfair to him to have you unrestrained," the judge stated with concern.
"If she says she will not flinch she will not," Jarod said, an adoring smile adorning his face.
"It is your decision," the judge said frowning, and Lyle looked even angrier than before. Parker stood stoically while the apple was balanced carefully on her cranium and Jarod was shown the line. He stood there staring into her eyes for an eternal second before an arrow sprang from his quiver and imbedded itself in the exact center of her apple. The judge compared his apple to Lyle's carefully before judging Jarod the winner of the contest.
His freedom earned, Jarod sprinted over to Miss Parker and kissed her lips passionately to thank her.
Miss Parker was called into dreaded wakefulness by the incessant ringing of her telephone. "Jarod," she asked, sleepily pulling the receiver to her ear.
There was a syncopated half pause before the jovial reply assured her it was him. "It is a big improvement over what, but probably a dangerous way to answer your phone, Miss Parker."
"Only you would wake me from such a strange dream," she mumbled, sitting up.
"Was I there," Jarod teased pleasantly.
"Aren't you always," she flirted. "Did you have a reason to call, or did you just miss the sound of my insults?"
"I wanted to ask you if you've ever had anyone you could really trust," he said seriously and she noted a depression in his tone.
"Are you all right," she asked astutely.
"I'm sure you'll hear all about my betrayal at work tomorrow," he replied sadly. "The short version is a woman I've been seeing wasn't who I thought she was."
"I've been there, I had an interest in pharmaceuticals for a while, until I found out the only doctor he worked with went by the name of William Raines," Parker laughed sympathetically.
"I don't want to have to be paranoid," Jarod stated.
"This is another one of the areas where I have a slight advantage over you," Parker said, her voice still sympathetic.
"How so," he asked.
"Because, I know I can always trust you," she answered, hanging up.