Peter/Penelope -- A Stormy Night

"Your majesty."

I looked up from my scroll to see Burt, my most loyal subject and door gaurd, shuffling his feet nervously, "Yes?"
"Someone is here to see you." His voice shook, setting me on edge.


"A man who calls himself F-fa--" He was suddenly shoved into the wall as a tall, robed figure strode into the hall.

"State your name and business," I demanded indifferently, refusing to be phased.

"Oh don't tell me you don't remember me Peterson," he drawled.

"No," I sighed impatiently, turning back to the scroll, "I'm afraid I don't."

Irked, he tore the parchment from my hands and tossed it across the room, "Does this ring a bell?" He held up a plumed hat and grinned wolfishly as I gasped in realization.

"You're that matress salesman!" His grin fell into a frown of disappointment, "And?"

"The one who tried to kidnap Penelope before she came to the castle," I leapt from my throne and drew my sword, "You are not welcome here."

"Then I'll leave if you insist," he sneered, "But you're coming with me."

My green eyes darted back and forth between the shady minions that crept out from behind him. My ally Phillip had once warned me of such vile creatures, urging me to tighten my sweaty fingers around my blade.

They all leapt on me at once and I only managed to take down about five before I knew it was a lost cause.

"Penelope!" I cried out in desperation above their obnoxious screeches and cackles as they bound me and forced me towards their master.

"She can't help you," he muttered as they wrapped a grimy peice of cloth around my mouth, "So don't waste your breath."


Startled by all the noise coming from the main hall, I hurried down the steps to see what was going on.

"Penelope!" The desperation in his voice sent my heart rocketing into my throat and I quickened my pace.

Finally pushing heavy wooden door open, I saw nothing. My shoes clip-clopped noisily across the tiled floor as I hitched up my skirt and raced to the main entrance.

My gloved hands flew to my mouth as I barely caught a glimpse of his red hair amongst a squirming mass of dark bodies and yellow eyes.

"Come," a man ordered, casting a type of bubble around them, "Let us waste no more time here, we've got other errands to run."

Angered and frightened, I tore off across the yard hollaring anything that came to mind at the top of my lungs. I neared the forcefield in time to meet eyes with my dear Peter before the sphere rapidly shrank and disappeared, leaving me alone in the cold, wet rain.

The End

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