Nobility At Its Finest
The Microfic/Drabble Meme
Prompt: "Dammit woman! Your flying pony bit me!"
Flower: Pink Orchid
Hector's face was beet red as he strode toward the unsuspecting woman who was seated casually on the ground beneath a scraggly ol' oak tree. Or maybe it was maple. Or…walnut?
He wasn't sure, and he didn't care. It was a damned tree, and he had something to tell the damned woman that sat under the damned scraggly tree.
"That tree wouldn't even be good for firewood," he snapped, realizing a half a moment later how idiotic that sounded, mostly because it had nothing to do with anything. Oh well, he couldn't say he wasn't used to it.
"Why Lord Hector! What a pleasure to see your smiling face this afternoon." Farina grinned at him with that damnable smile that, at any other time, might have made his heart beat a little faster, or some other bit of damned nonsense.
"I'm not in the mood for your sparkling gaiety," he growled.
She looked taken aback. "Oh milord, whatever are you rambling about?" Fluttering her eyelashes coyly—dammit, she learned that from Serra!—she peered up at him and faked a perfectly innocent, sweet expression. "The last time I checked, I did not sparkle. Though if you want to give me something that does sparkle, I'll take any sort of precious ge—"
"Dammit woman! Your flying pony bit me!" Shoving his hand out to prove it, he glared at her and the stupid scraggly tree that seemed to be mocking him in all its scraggly, not-even-good-for-firewood glory.
His hand did, indeed, sport a beautiful imprint of what looked decidedly like a set of equine teeth.
Farina grabbed it and hauled herself to her feet, ignoring his hiss of pain as she pulled against the newly-imprinted flesh. She puffed her chest out proudly, "You probably deserved it."
If he didn't know better, he could swear she was doing a victory dance…in her mind.
"Did not," he threw back.
"Did you walk within a twenty-foot radius of him?"
Hector found that if he answered this at all, he would lose. So he said nothing, realizing only a moment too late that not answering was just as good as answering. He could swear the scraggly tree laughed mockingly.
"Murphy is very delicate."
"Delicate?! Does this look delicate to you!"
"Aww, you poor widdle baby!" she cooed, petting his hand gently. "Do you need someone to kiss it and make it allll better?"
"Get off me!" he grunted, taking his hand back before she could follow through with her threat and smooch his poor, injured hand. "Your winged beast needs some discipline or something!"
"Then why didn't you teach him a lesson instead of running scared?" she asked, calmly folding her arms over her chest.
"It's a dangerous creature!"
"Murphy is a noble steed!"
"A noble pain in the ass, that's what!"
"Gee," she said, blinking at him as a smile crept over her damnable lips. "That sounds terribly familiar."
This is angry!Hector. Hear him roar.