Mimoly is amazing as always :D. Another comic, this one based on the last chapter, "Puppy". It's a hell of a lot funnier than when I wrote it (in my humble opinion) Here it is...

http: / / mimoly. deviantart. com/art/One- Word- Puppy- 143485759

whoo?

This is for Rinku, WHO KEEPS GETTIN HIS ASS GROUNDED D.


WORD: Grounded

Definition: to restrict the activities, esp. the social activities, of


"GROUNDED?!"

"Prince Marth-"

"You're kidding. Please tell me you're kidding."

"I'm not kidding. You're grounded."

"You cant do that!"

"Yes. I can."

The prince scowled at the mercenary before him, pouting in a very un-princely fassion. His cheeks puffed up and his brows knit together as he glared daggers at Ike. "You're not my father!"

Ike knew that. Oh, he knew that well. If he was the prince's father, then things would be much easier. For one, he probably wouldn't have this unusual urge to grab him roughly by the shoulders and kiss the teenage angst out of his young, beautiful body. Watch him squirm underneath him- Woah, woah! Ike stopped his mind before it carried him too far into that fantasy again. How many times had he had to remind himself that he was just the hired sword, tasked with guarding the prince? "I've been hired to keep you safe, and was given permission to punish you if you acted out again."

"That's not fair!"

"Life isn't fair, Prince." Somehow Ike managed to keep his voice calm. He really hated nobles. They were so stuck up, so high and mighty. But to him, there was nothing special about them.

And yet… there was something special about this prince.

"I hate you!" And with those final, cutting words the young prince stalked into his room and slammed the door. Ike cringed slightly, but held his ground. The rejection hurt, even though he knew Marth didn't really mean it. He was just being difficult, hoping to break Ike down with his words. It wouldn't work.

Ike stood by the door, it was the first time he was in a different room, cut off from Marth, since he had been hired. It worried him, he knew there were assassins out after the prince, and staying in the same room was vital to the prince's safety, even if he hated it. So it was that the mercenary turned the knob, only to find it locked. "Prince Marth…"

"Go away."

"You know I can't do that," Ike sighed, "Open the door."

"No. I don't want to see you."

"You know it's only for your best interest," Ike heard Marth scoff, "Prince Marth, going out into the city alone is dangerous. You know you're supposed to take an escort. What if something had happened?"

"Nothing happened, I don't see what the problem is!"

"Our job is to protect you, Prince Marth. There are people out there that would hurt you, for a number of reasons."

"I just want to be normal!"

Ike fell silent. "……. Prince-"

"Prince this, prince that! I hate it! I'm Marth! Why can't I just be Marth to anyone?!"

That caught Ike of guard, and for a moment he didn't know how to respond, "Marth. I'm sorry. But you are the prince. And the last thing I want is to see you get hurt. Do you understand? Marth?" Ike jiggled the knob, but it was locked in place. "Marth?" He heard something, perhaps the vase on Marth's wardrobe falling to the ground and crashing. Ike's heart rate picked up. "Marth?!" He attempted to open the door once more, and then decided that he'd have to sacrifice the perfectly sculpted wood, slamming his body into it and hearing it crack and bend under his weight. The door slammed open and Ike rushed in, only to see Marth disappear out the window, his body slung over the shoulder of a man clad in black.

The prince's eyes were filled with terror and locked on Ike. His hand reached out as if he thought he could grab the mercenary, "IKE!!!!"

And then he was gone.