Writing Prompt, Take Two

Hi there! It’s time again to share with all our lovely wenchy friends one of our group’s fun writing prompts. To remind you how this worked, one of our lovely admin’s picked a picture (see above) and added a few sentences, then the rest of us were off and running. A good many of our group commented on it to keep the story going. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.

She could hear the faint screams of his first duchess echoing in the tower, reminding her of his life before her. Would she jump to her death and destroy his world again? According to the curse, it was her destiny. She stepped back from the edge determined to make her own destiny. This time she would not let another woman deny her birthright. She would take what was hers. No, she would not let him or any man decide her fate. It was hers alone. Taking another step back she lost her footing and hurtled towards the edge. Grabbing at something, anything, her hands scrabbling and grasping, she finally found purchase on a tree root. Gasping with fear, she opened her eyes and took stock of her situation

The crisp bite of the air makes her wish she had put on clothes when she got out of bed.

She felt the rocks biting into her side and she knew she had to find a way down. Her thin nightgown flapped madly in the wind like a flag of surrender, as her fingers began to slip. A window opens two stories below, and to the right, where the order’s newest monk steps precariously onto the wooden ledge. With a sarcastic smile he says “can I help you milady?”

“I’d rather fall to my death than into the clutches of you” she shouts as she scrambles back up the crumbing tower, sending shards of broken rock onto the monk who cursed at the barrage and disappeared into the window.

After minutes of hanging off the edge of the tower the monk’s head appears over the edge and he says, “Do you hate me enough not to accept my hand to save you?”

She thought about it quickly, he really was the lesser of two evils. Praying for deliverance, she released her grip on the tree root and reached blindly for the Monk’s outstretched hand. The monk began pulling her up, but then swung her farther away from the wall. A familiar voice rose up to meet her from somewhere far below.

“I will catch you milady, let go of his hand.” Would he catch her?

She had to trust that he would. She let go, but the monk didn’t, he gripped her arm tightly and said, “he will never have you.”

At my exacerbated look the monk says, “Your love is slated to join our order — hence, he may never know a woman.”

“Too late.” she grinned as she bit the monks hand hard and catapulted herself away from the wall. The Monk’s strangled cries faded as she hurtled downward landing roughly onto familiar flesh.

This was fun, no? I will say again that I did not make any changes. Not even a spelling mistake to fix this time. What we have we learned from this exercise? Well this time it seems we learned that some folks don’t always read what came before. In the end it’s all good, though. Fun time had by all. Make sure you tune in for the next round, I’m pretty sure Batman makes an appearance in that one!

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