and his Guide
At last the castle was sparkling with spit (which is pretty gross but James WAS in the Army and they do a lot of spitting and polishing, so they don't mind shiny spitty things), and James went and loitered around on his drawbridge in order to impress Ms. Sentinel
As she approached, he realised that she seemed to be in a bad mood and that she was taking it out on her shorter companion, who was looking pretty pissed off himself.
"I thought you said you were a GUIDE?" she snarled at the kid.
"I am a Guide. But not a Tourist Guide. I thought you said you were a Sentinel?" he demanded in return.
James' attention abruptly left the lady Sentinel and focussed upon the Guide (possibly the right type of Guide) in front of him.
"I am a Sentinel!" she declared, tossing her corn-coloured silken locks with a show of disdain.
"You could've fooled me!" the kid retaliated. "When that child from the village was stuck up a tree, what did you do? You filed your nails while I climbed up and helped the kid down!"
"So?" she demanded, her previously attractive-sounding voice now sounding like nails on a blackboard.
James winced. He really didn't like her voice.
"So you're a Sentinel! You protect the tribe!"
She stopped, turned and grabbed him by his tunic. "Listen, Blair, knock it off with the 'protect the tribe' crap. You've been going on about that ever since I first met you, and the line's wearing thin. Capiche?"
To James' approval, Blair pushed the hand away and refused to be cowed by the shrieking harridan's behaviour. "And I told you...Sentinels protect the tribe! It's inbuilt, it's hard-wired into your brain. You just can't - URK!"
James ran to the edge of the lake as Blair was pushed in.
The lady Sentinel looked at him with a gleam of interest in her eyes, transmitting pheromones on all levels. "Hey, big guy...." Her voice trailed off as James dived into the lake and dragged Blair out.
Hauling his newly found Guide to the edge of the lake, James patted him heartily on the back, helping him to spit out the water that was trying to clog his lungs. "Take it easy, kid, you'll be fine."
Blair straightened up and glared at James.
James found that to be pretty amusing as the kid was soaking wet, about 6 inches shorter than him and, although he was sturdily built, he definitely wasn't the brawny type.
"Excuse me," Blair said, brushing past James. "Alex, I quit! Go find yourself another Guide - tourist or otherwise."
Alex tossed her head. "Fine! You had a lousy sense of direction anyway!"
"That's because - oh, what's the use. I'm outta here."
James grabbed the back of his tunic and yanked him to a stop. "Hold up, Chief. You're soaking wet."
Alex tossed her head again. "Let him go, big boy. I can warm you up, all right."
James raised his eyebrow and looked down at her. "No thanks, sweetcheeks. I'm fed up, not hard up."
She glared at him and hissed, "Fine! See if I care. You're probably gay, anyway!" and then stalked off.
Blair stiffened with shock, and tried again to move forward, but James wasn't letting go.
"Relax, Chief, you're not my type. But you are soaking wet and you'll probably catch a chill. C'mon." Ignoring Blair's protests, he hauled the Guide up the drawbridge and into his castle.
Handing Blair over to several female servants who were all more than willing to help Blair strip off, bathe and get warm (and from the gleam in Blair's eyes, he didn't mind at all), James returned to the gate and ordered his men to draw up the bridge. No one, including his Guide, was getting in or out without his say so.
Returning to the best guest suite in the castle, he found that most of the female servants were lined up, and some of them were looking pretty disappointed as there were too many of them to be feasibly entertained by the beautiful Blair. So, as he was a kind and considerate master, he allowed several of them to accompany him to his bedchamber where he promptly forgot about blonde bimbos who went around chucking Guides into lakes.
In the meantime, Blair was having a fabulous time. Alex had been pretty bad tempered for a while now, and he'd been regretting taking the job as her temporary Guide. In fact, he'd pretty much had enough of Sentinels at all. They all seemed to either be prone to flying off the handle at a moment's notice, prone to chucking him into lakes, or prone to demanding that he fix the problem with their senses "right now and what do you mean you need sleep?"
So, basically, he was thinking about a change in career, as much as he could think with all these lovely servants to entertain.
Finally, he fell asleep in the large double bed. But his dreams were disturbed by visions of a prowling panther. Waking in the middle of the night, he hurriedly lit the candle at his bedside, and then gasped as he saw the coat of arms that was prominently displayed in the room.
He slipped from the bed and made his way over to the fireplace above which the display of panthers and swords was hanging. "Panthers. Oh my God, panthers!" He knew now what his dream meant.
His kindly host with the heavy hand was a Sentinel who was planning on claiming him.
Grabbing his clothes, he was pleased to see that they were dry, and he hurriedly dressed. He had to get out of there before the Sentinel awoke.
He crept to the door and turned the handle very slowly. Pulling the door open, he peered up the corridor. It was dark, far too dark for normal eyes.
Leaving the door open a crack, he turned to the bedside and reached for his candle, then almost fainted as a quiet voice purred, "Going somewhere, Chief?"
Turning, he gaped at the now wide open door. The candle flickered in the draught, but there was more than enough light to make out the figure of his host, Lord James Ellison
"Uh...I was just thinking that I'd taken up more than enough of," his voice rose anxiously as Lord James shut the door behind him and carefully locked it, "your time! Why have you locked the door?"
"So we won't be disturbed," Lord James told him, slipping the key from the lock and putting it into his pocket.
"Hey, man, I thought I wasn't your type?" Blair looked around the room anxiously. How high off the ground was this room anyway?
"You're not, Chief, believe me. But you are a Guide and I am a Sentinel."
Blair backed up as the Sentinel approached, using the bed to keep his distance. "Well, I've decided to try a change of career. I'm thinking...long distance cart driver."
"I believe it's expensive starting out," Lord James replied, keeping up his steady approach. "You have to buy your own horse, cart and carrot first."
"Okay...deep sea diver. They're always crying out for them."
"We're ninety-two miles from the nearest ocean."
"I can travel," Blair protested, his voice getting higher and higher as he backed around the bed. "I don't mind commuting!"
"You'd have to get there first, Chief." Lit by the candle, Lord James' face looked determined, and almost feral as he scented the air. "Just relax, I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know that, man, you're a Sentinel! Although Alex was a Sentinel and she -" His words broke off as he heard a growl. "Did you just growl at me?"
"Don't mention her name again, Blair." From the sounds of it, the guy was grinding his teeth too.
"You know...I can never remember to avoid mentioning people I've met. I'd probably be annoying you on a daily basis. I think it'd be best if we went our separate ways!" As he said 'ways', Blair hurled his pillow straight into Lord James' face and ran for the window.
Throwing it wide, he stared down. It was only two storeys, he was sure he could make it. Holding onto the edge of the wide open window [yes, this castle has windows instead of slits in the stonework - Jim's a Sentinel, not stupid] he slid himself out of the window, and began maneouvring to swing his legs out. However, before his feet were free of the windowsill, strong hands grabbed his ankles and pulled him back.
He kicked out, trying to free himself, but, in spite of his struggles, he was dragged back into the room, the hands working their way up his body until they had a firm grip on his shoulders.
Blair hit out at his assailant, determined that he would not be claimed now that he'd changed his mind about being a Guide.
But Lord James was stronger than he, and pretty soon, Blair found himself facing the bed, a determined Sentinel behind him.
"I'm not going to do this," he shouted, struggling all the more.
"Just relax, Blair. It'll be over in a few minutes."
With embarrassing ease, he was tipped onto the bed and pinned in place, the weight of the Sentinel restricting his struggles even more.
He bucked and twisted, then panicked as his wrists were trapped above his head and held in one large hand; the Sentinel's other hand moving down to stroke his face.
"Don't you dare, I'm warning you! I'll make your life a living Hell!" Blair swore.
The Sentinel didn't reply; the determination on his face had been replaced with a dreamy contented look.
"I mean it! Alex was sweet tempered when I first met her!"
The dreamy look fled and the Sentinel's gaze focussed upon him with a narrow glare.
"Don't," the Sentinel nipped at his jugular, "mention," then at the other side of his neck, "her name," a nip to the underside of his chin, "again." The last word was followed by the Sentinel biting at the base of his neck, a harder bite that was intended to mark.
By this time, Blair didn't care. Each nip had caused a flush of heat to rush through him until, by the time his Sentinel claimed him, he was feeling afire with fever. He tilted his head back and moaned in submission.
His barriers crumbled and he relaxed, sinking into the mattress, as his Sentinel's mind invaded his: demanding entry to every pathway, insisting on access to every synapse, protecting, supporting and caressing every neuron.
Blair gasped as the fire filled his brain; blazing a trail through his mind and leaving the warmth of a lifelong bond behind in the smouldering ashes of his barriers.
He felt his Sentinel chuckle against the flesh of his throat, and tried to smile in return, but tiredness swept over him and his eyes slipped shut as he gave in to the tide.
~'~
Lifting his head as he felt his Guide pass out, James smiled. Alex, he ground his teeth as he thought the name, was a fool. His Guide was a strong one. He would undoubtedly be annoying, aggravating and downright irritating on occasion, but he was James' Guide and no one would take him away.
10th April 05.
