A picture says a
thousand words. Write them.
Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a
metaphor, a commentary, or a critique about this picture. Write something about
this picture.
Be sure to tag #writeworld in your block!
http://writeworld.org/post/103763151892/writers-block-artists-tumblr-a-picture-says-a
“Oh, my,” she said as she peered down
at the prisoner. “You wrapped my present for me.”
“Just the woman I came here to see,” he
growled back at her.
“Rensho.”
“Hello, Vadima.” A pause. “I don’t rate
a ‘hello’?”
“No, you do not.”
“Wife, you disappoint me.”
The guards twitched.
“I seem fated to do that.”
“Come down here and say that.”
She laughed, but she did take the
stairs down to stand closer to him.
He watched her every step of the way.
He didn’t even glance at the others with her.
“You have some new scars, my love.” She
stood right in front of him. Her fingers brushed over his epaulettes; he had
some new rank, too.
“I value the scars you gave me the
most.”
“I would never mark that face.” Her
finger traced the welts that radiated in three distinct lines across his right
eye. “Is the eye damaged?”
“No. I can still see how beautiful you
are.”
“Who did this?” Her lips pressed
against the scar that marred the top of his left lip and stretched up towards
the base of his cheek.
He chased her face when she pulled away,
until the wrist cuffs held him. “It doesn’t matter; I killed him.”
“Good.”
“Because otherwise you would do it for
me?”
“He damaged what is mine.”
“Wife, you do not share well.” He gave
her an enigmatic smile.
“I do not.”
He had a small pouch on his belt. He
saw her glance down at it, but with his arms held, he could not stop her
opening it. “Do you still have it?” she asked.
“I do.”
She pulled a ring from the pouch. It
was hung on a chain.
“He is your husband?” the guard
with her asked.
“Yes, he is. I do not lie.” To him, she
asked, “Why the chain?”
“So it stays with me when I am out of
uniform. I cannot wear it for obvious reasons.”
Leaning in, she pulled the collars of
shirt apart enough to plant a kiss on the skin of his lower neck. “I would see
you out of uniform,” she whispered, and she hung it around his neck.
“Release me,” he said.
“You are our prisoner,” the guard
objected.
“No, lady. I am a husband who has
missed many conjugal leave visits.” His eyes gleamed.
Vadima’s laugh was a delight.
Rensho raised one eyebrow. “Or... we
could just do it here.”
“Do I have your word you will not harm
anyone?” she asked.
“Captain, no!” a junior officer
objected before Rensho could answer.
Vadima rounded on them. “Do you dare to
question my authority?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Did he hurt anyone when he was
apprehended?”
“No, ma’am.” They risked a glance at
the prisoner. The capture seemed too easy now given how dangerous he looked.
“You do know who this is?”
“No, ma’am.” They sounded more
doubtful, now.
“This-” she waved a hand at him, “-is
Rensho Kraft; designer of the Kraft method and leader of the interrogation
squad for the imperial forces. If he wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
The officer paled. They had all heard
of the Kraft method. He got inside people’s heads, it was said, but that was
not possible. They suddenly realized what he had done; he had got inside theirs
and had cleverly manipulated them and they hadn’t even noticed. “He said he
wanted to see you and we brought him right to you. I am so sorry, ma’am.”
“Indeed. Lucky he is not here to
kill me, just to-” She stopped.
He smiled at her. He finished the rest
of her sentence with that smile.
“Give me your word, Rensho.”
“I give you my word that I will not...
kill anyone on your ship.”
She tilted her head. He had left a
loophole; injury was allowed. “I accept. Release him.”
She spun on her heel and marched away,
knowing her orders would be followed.
Freed, he jogged to catch her up. He
didn’t try to touch her, but followed a step behind her; not directly on her
heels. They made a striking couple. He taller by a head and so pale with his
grey hair. She was darker skinned with glossy black hair. They both radiated
authority.
At the door of her quarters, he
followed her in, watched as she locked it with a command code he automatically
memorised, and then he was kissing her.
They didn’t speak. They lived their
lives assuming others were watching or listening to them. As their bodies
joined, so did their minds. It had always been that way with them. An ability
he had used and expanded, and she had kept a close secret. It had bound them
together far more effectively than a ring, and as a result, neither ever
trifled with another.
When everything they had was
interlaced, he showed her the information obtained during an interrogation. A
conspiracy so vast and deep that they were all betrayed. He had left everything
behind to come to her and warn her. He had come to her to try to save her.
Now, it was up to her to save them
both.
~~~~
© AM Gray 2014
