My Idiotic Protector – Part 2
By: Ghostwriter
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Two men over seven feet tall appeared. The innkeeper grinned evilly and motioned for them to take him they drugged young man away.
The soon to be abductors did not notice the solitary figure in black, partially hidden by the shadows in the corner. The mysterious man raised his tankard to his lips, uninterested in his surroundings. The inn was pretty empty for there were no customers at such an odd hour, where everyone was at the fields, tending to their corps.
The dark figure continued his meal, not paying attention to what was happening to the unfortunate young man. One of the giants slung the young man over his shoulder, like a sack of potatoes. He shifted her weight and called out lewdly, 'It's a she…perhaps she can provide us some entertainment before we sell her to the brothels.' Lewd laughter answered his comment.
The man glance absent-mindedly at the giant of a man with the girl slumped over his shoulders. The girl's color and style of the girl's hair caught his attentions. Only one person he knew in the entire England had that hairdo. The long golden tresses that hung down from the two buns, swayed with the momentum of the footsteps of her abductor. The figure hesitated a moment before saying in a deep voice, 'Put that young lady down.'
'Who's going to make me?' the man called out, putting young lady on the table. His accomplice walked over to join him, eyeing Darien warily.
'Watch this,' the man said maliciously as he lowered his lips onto Serena's soft rosy ones.
The cloaked man felt something pop within him. He felt fury surge forth from his heart and into his veins, coursing through his being. Snarling, he launched himself at the man who dared defy him, sending them crashing into the other tables. The innkeeper shrieked and shouted at them to stop.
The other man joined in as well. How can he manage to overpower two men that are so much stronger and taller than he? Weighing his options, he suddenly withdrew and grabbed the blonde girl and rushed out of the inn. The men gave chase.
He ran into the courtyard where the horses were kept. There were three horses there. Two of them were normal breeds but the last was a magnificent beast. His coat shone and there was a white star on his forehead. He neighed happily when he recognized his mistress's blonde locks.
'Well, I guess we won't be stealing if you belonged to her,' the cloaked man muttered as he slung the blonde girl onto the saddle. He then loosened the knot that tied the horse to the post and climbed onto the horse as well. He hit the beast with the crop, sending the horse galloping away, away from the men that shouted curses at them.
Only after the inn was out of sight did the man take a good look at his companion. Her skin was flushed from the drug they gave her but otherwise, she seemed unharmed. Caressing her cheek softly, he whispered, 'You haven't changed much, Sewena.'
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Moonhaven was in an uproar. Their young mistress had returned – unconscious and drugged, with a mysterious cloaked man on Swift. And everyone knows that Swift does not allow anyone to ride him except Serena.
And currently, Serena is in her room, sleeping off the effects of the drugged. Lady Stradtfield was keeping vigil by her daughter's bed, offering prayers and thanks to Lord Almighty. A physician had been summoned, and thankfully, had pronounced that Serena had not been harmed in anyway.
Serena stirred fitfully. Soon her eyelids fluttered open. Lady Stradtfield gave a gasp of delight.
'What happened?' she asked groggily. 'Why am I home?' she continued as she tried to sit up. A sharp bolt of pain struck in her head. 'Ahh' she groaned as she clutched her head.
'Rest now my dear,' Lady Stradtfield advised her daughter as she slid on to the pillows once more. 'You will need your strength when you meet your father later. I assure you, young lady, he is not at all pleased. Who knows what might have happened if Mr. Shields had not rescued you.'
'Mister Who?'
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His grace sat at his desk in his study, looking at the man in front of him critically. The man had removed his cloak and was sitting opposite his grace in an unaffected manner, totally not befitting a man of his status when confronting a duke. Instinct tells the old duke that this man is not ordinary man, and somehow, his appearance seemed familiar. The man had introduced himself as Shields, Darien Shields.
His guest had hair the color of the darkest night and eyes of blue like the sea during a storm. His skin was tanned and he was clad in a peasant's shirt and coarse riding breeches. Even in such ordinary clothes, he managed to carry himself as though he is a man of consequences.
He suppose he should be thanking him for bringing Serena back home – unharmed, Lord Stradtfield added grimly. Who knows what might have happened to her if this man had not rescued her from those rogues. From this man's accounts, Serena was extremely fortunate that he was there in the inn that day. Lord Stradtfield had already dispatched his men to track down the innkeeper and his accomplices.
'Mr. Shields, permit me to question you, what is your profession?'
'I am a mercenary, your grace,' Darien answered easily. The duke's expression blanched a little.
'A mercenary, I see. How would you like me to reward you?'
'Your grace, the question is how would you reward a man who had rescued your daughter from ruin?'
The duke looked at the young man before him speculatively. He looked between the ages of twenty five to thirty.
'I offer you a job.'
'Of course, a mercenary's services are always available at a price.'
'I want you to protect my daughter. Guard her day and night if you have to, but prevent her from running off again like that and putting herself in danger. She will be your charge and I will have your head if anything happens to her.'
'What have you done inspired such confidence in your grace to allow me to be your daughter's babysitter?' Darien asked sardonically.
'Because you have saved my daughters life and did not take advantage of her circumstances,' Lord Stradtfield put in bluntly. 'And I trust you will not do anything that might harm her later on.'
Darien kept his face emotionless as he considered the duke's offer, 'What are the terms?'
'No harm is to befall my daughter. If anything happens to her, the blame will be upon your shoulders,' Lord Stradtfield declared. 'As long as you are in my service, you will receive a regular pay of let's say 500 pounds a month?'
'My services are at your disposal, your grace,' Darien said as he bowed before the old duke.
'Good,' the duke said in a clipped voice as he rang the bell cord by the fire side, summoning one of the maids into the study.
Molly appeared a short time later through the doors and asked timidly, 'Yes, your grace.'
'Has your young mistress awakened?'
'Yes, your grace.'
'Then send her here.'
'Yes, your grace,' Molly replied as she scuttled off to carry out the order.
A short while later, Serena entered the study in a beautiful cream dress adorned with blue lace. Her hair was in its usual style – two small buns at either side of her head and long pigtails falling down from either side of it. In Darien's opinion, he had never laid eyes on such an enchanting creature.
'Yes father?' she asked demurely. Darien watched her in amusement. She certainly has a strong stomach.
'Serena, you have been very disobedient. I would have punished you but I think the ordeal you went through is punishment enough,' the duke began gruffly.
Serena's expression changed when she realized that her father was not going to scold her.
'However, you have totally violate our trust, and there fore I have came to a decision to employ you a guardian. Shields there,' he pointed at Darien, 'will be your personal guard and escort.'
'My what?' Serena cried in an indignant voice as her eyes shot towards Darien.
'Your babysitter,' Darien informed her, trying to keep his amusement from his voice. 'I don't believe we are acquainted. I am Darien Shields, your new babysitter.'
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Disclaimer: These things get boring after a while…so I don't own Sailor moon or any of it's characters…
Hey people,
I'm darn tired so I won't waste time typing my own two cents. You know the drill – Review and Mail!
Haunts of Love,
Ghostwriter…