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Petite-Guard [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - megs - 04-01-2018

Celeste’s time with the guard was cut short by the appearance of her father. She was disappointed, she had planned a series of clever questions to test Agent Barlena in her own way. She didn’t let the emotion show in her face, the only sign of was a notable twitch of her silver ears. She continued to smile, complacent and obedient as she took a seat in one of the highbacked chair in front of her mother’s desk.

Julianna was the last to arrive. She breezed into the office with a regal air as the two guards posted outside opened the door for her, announcing her entrance. Like Celeste, she had changed as well. She wore a rich, Hunter green gown with a tailored bodice embroidered with tiny dark pearls and a skirt that flared from her hips. It would certainly come as a surprise to her husband and daughter that she hadn’t worn a cape. She was however adorned with sparkling emerald jewelry; a delicate, but ornate coronet was pinned perfectly to the crown of her head.

Surprise briefly crossed her face to find her office already full. “I apologize for the delay,” she said automatically. Celeste turned in her chair to watch her mother. She never tired of seeing her this way. Julianna’s transformation from wife and mother to queen was almost like a switch being flipped. She was magnificent, with her head high like the weight of the crown didn’t bother her.

Celeste knew her mother strived to keep the monarchy out of their familial life, but that wasn’t always possible. Sometimes the burden of it kept her head down in private times. Sometimes, her parents argued in this very office.

“Certainly, my husband has gone over the parameters of your position here?” Julianna asked, Celeste still observing her as her mother was quickly brought to speed.

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - saronym - 06-02-2018

“Yes, Your Majesty. Your husband explained everything. I understand my duties and I am prepared to carry them out.” Agent Barlena answered with a grand bow to his queen.

He would eat those words.

___

The news was playing at a low almost indiscriminate chatter level of volume. Owen was having a cup of coffee and browsing his favorite app, Twitter, on his phone. Something made him frown. Some word that floated to him from the TV screen. He looked up from his phone and reached for the remote to increase the volume.

He watched the morning news crew discuss the shenanigans of his daughter, the princess. The news crew were gathered together on a comfortable looking couch, gripping coffee mugs not unlike his own, and gossiping...about his daughter. She had apparently attended a concert with her friends from school and documented the nights festivities on Snapchat. On screen was a map graphic that tracked Celeste’s whereabouts throughout the evening accompanied by pictures snapped at those points.

Owen calmly watched the broadcast through to the end before he shut the television off. He pushed himself up from the couch and sought his wife in the kitchen. He put his mug down on the counter to announce himself but remained silent for a few moments as he thought about how he could manage to speak without yelling.

“You wouldn’t believe what I just saw on the news.” He said with more than enough aggression in his voice to demonstrate he wasn’t pleased. “Your daughter -” he paused. His phone was still in his hand so he unlocked he screen and searched in his contacts for Celeste’s name. He could have gone to her room to wake her up but somehow this seemed better. When it started ringing he continued.

“She had quite the night. Celeste was on the news Julianna. That obnoxious gossip couch segment they do. You know the one.” He set the phone down, having forgotten for a second that he dialed his daughter. H

“They had infographics on her! An interactive map of her whereabouts!” His hands flew up trying to paint a picture of the map he saw. He was just pointing at various spots in the air. “Pictures from Snapchat. All of her friends have been I.D.’d. All from Snapchat. Her location services were on and there were plenty of public posts of her, as well.”

He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Where the fuck was he?”

He took a deep breath in through his nose. "They had her full outfit broken down. I just -" He waved his hand. "How does this happen?"

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - megs - 06-04-2018

Owen didn’t need to seek his wife out, so much as he just needed to walk from the den to the kitchen. Despite his almost uncanny ability to find her wherever she may be, the chance of finding her in her favorite spot in the house was always very high.

She was seated on a stool in front of the island. Julianna always had the impeccable posture of a queen. She sat up, back straight like a rod with her feet tucked neatly into one of the rungs of the stool. Even her chin was high, eyes downcast to the task at hand. Upon the island a three-tiered cake towered over various baking and cake decorating implements that Julianna has spread out over the table.

Her back was the the alcove that lead from the hall into the kitchen, but she heard her husband approaching even before the click of ceramic on granite announced his presence. Her tail swayed back and forth gently where it hung off the stool and fell towards the floor. Her ears twitched once, but she waited for Owen to speak, hearing the audible intake of breath that meant he was gathering his thoughts. Silently, she continued to spin a decorating nail in slow circles between forefinger and thumb as she piped another delicate purple flower to adorn the cake that was already full of them.

It was unclear whether the cake was for an occasion or just because Julianna found the task fun.

“My daughter,” she emphasized after Owen had finished his rant. Julianna finally looked up from her work to the man who had rounded the island to stand in front of her as he spoke. “Why is she my daughter when she’s done something wrong?” With a bit of a huff, Jules pulled the buttercream flower off the nail with a pair of scissors and situated it carefully on the bottom of the cake. Putting her tools down, she instead picked up her phone and it only took a quick Google search to confirm what Owen was saying.

She hummed, displeased, as she scrolled through various headlines from gossips magazines and more “reputable” publications, who seemed more concerned with Celeste’s daringly short skirt, than her recent kidnapping attempt as they broadcast her evening all of the world.

“Well, that’s not good at all,” she observed, setting her phone down again. “Agent Barlena seemed like such a reliable guard.” Her tone and her words weren’t enough to reveal the ‘I told you so’ that she knew her husband would pick up on.

She wasn’t quite gloating about how right she had been. And it wasn’t that she had no concern for Celeste’s safety and well-being. They both knew that this stunt was merely a Celeste-way of informing them that she didn’t not like their guard choice for her. “I don’t know why she didn’t just tell us about the concert,” Julianna mused, licking icing off her thumb before picking up another piping bag, this one was filled with a dreamy blue buttercream.

Julianna leaned closer to the cake to pipe perfect rosettes directly onto the middle tier. “I assume you’re going to fire Barlena?” She asked, this time too sweetly, gaze flicking towards him before dropping towards his phone. It still sat upon the counter, but it had stopped ringing. An increasingly frustrated Celeste could be heard on the other end of the line complaining about being woken.

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - saronym - 06-04-2018

Three levels of cake stood between Owen and his subtly gloating wife. She didn’t need to be over the top or obvious for him to pick up on the between-the-lines messages she was sending him.

He bristled and nostrils flared but he couldn’t argue. His lips pressed into an annoyed line as he watched Julianna work at adding more cutesy decoration to her cake.

There wasn’t even an occasion.

He stuck his index finger out like a demanding child expecting to be rewarded with sweets though he was being obviously petulant. He waited there with his finger out while he picked up his phone again with the other hand. He let all of Julianna’s commentary go unanswered. He had nothing to say. She had been right. They both knew it.

“Fun concert, eh?” He asked into the phone of his complaining daughter. “Do me a favor and come down stairs. Your mother has baked a cake to welcome your new guard.”

Owen ended the call and let his phone drop to the counter. He stared at his wife with that closed lip expression for half a beat before he spoke.

“You want to congratulate Specialist Weatherfare, or should I?”

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - megs - 06-06-2018

Julianna didn’t stop working, only quickly cast her eyes towards the expectant finger thrust in her direction. She looked back to the cake. “There’s are chocolate chips on the counter,” she said, and when he didn’t move despite this announcement she looked at him again. He was waiting, she knew, both to be petulant and to force her to accommodate him. She squeezed a bit of the creamy frosty onto his finger before setting the pastry down.

“Don’t pout,” she chided, turning the cake back and forth on the turntable to inspect it. “Agent Barlena was a good choice. He just wasn’t right for Celeste.” Julianna finally stopped fiddling with her cake as Owen spoke to Celeste on the phone. Selecting a personal guard was an entirely different process than creating an entire unit. She knew this from experience. Having someone that would be so ingrained in your space and privacy was miserable enough without also not getting along with them. Julianna knew from their conversations about the past that she had not had a personal guard since marrying Owen.

“I’m sure a congratulations would be much more impressive for you.” She sassed her husband gently, because he was being moody about the situation. A combination of his disappointment in Barlena, and his concern for Celeste’s safety. “Just like firing Santiago will be.”

Eventually, a tired looking Celeste shuffled into the kitchen. She wore comfy looking cotton pajama shorts and a too big t-shirt. “The concert was great,” she replied. Her smug expression was wholly misplaced as she clawed a waterfall of curls away from her face. She knew she was in trouble, but she had her father’s cool indifference. “Is that cake for eating?”

Julianna looked at her daughter and then back at the cake she had been working on most of the morning. “I guess,” she answered, but sounded lax to agree. “But we will save it for Specialist Weatherfare.”

Celeste made a disinterested noise in her throat as she moved towards the coffee pot. “Who is ‘Specialist Weatherfare?’”

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - saronym - 06-07-2018

Owen watched the frosting coat the pad of his finger. He stuck it in his mouth and grunted at Julianna when she instructed him to quit pouting. He nodded satisfied with the creamy textured sweetness that was especially good with the bitter taste of coffee still in his mouth.

“Surely I’ll be making both their days.” He retorted implying that Barlena would be relieved rather than disappointed at the loss of his post. He rounded the counter, coming up behind Julianna, he waited for her to take her hands away from the cake so that he could squeeze her shoulder with his hand and kissed her cheek. A truce kiss. “Let’s hope Weatherfare hasn’t turned on the television this morning.”

Owen was content to watch Julianna from the vantage behind her while he made quick phone calls to the two men they had been discussing. Celeste joined them shortly announcing herself with news of how she enjoyed her evening. He turned and eyed her cooly.

“That’s nice sweetheart.” The coldness in his voice suggested that he was not impressed with her attitude.

Owen followed Celeste’s shuffling footsteps towards the coffee pot, bringing his own mug with him for a refill. “Specialist Atlas Weatherfare will be joining us shortly to take over for Agent Barlena as your new guard after that stunt you pulled last night.” The way he spoke was even toned and calm even though he was quite annoyed with his daughter’s antics. It never served either of them in conflicts to let his temper flare.

“I don’t think we need to go over why your activities last night put you at risk? If you're trying to get our attention -” he said, his words growing slightly hotter, "well, you have it. If you're trying to make a statement of rebellion regarding having a guard, just know you're not the first of your siblings to be angry with us over that. Your mother and I are firm in this decision. You'll get used to it soon enough."

He set his mug down hard on the counter, nostrils flared. He shifted his arm in the sling around as if to accent another point. "Don't be so quick to forget that I got shot in your bedroom. This is not a punishment. It's necessity."

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - megs - 06-27-2018

If Celeste was listening to her father, she didn’t show it. Not usually so blatantly disrespectful, but the tone and the subject of the conversation had quickly put her in a mood. She filled a coffee mug that she pulled from the cabinets for herself, and then refilled Owen’s. Moving around the kitchen as he spoke, so added cream and sugar, and moved around the island until she was on the opposite side of it as him, with her mother in the middle.

Green eyes flashed over the rim of her mug as she took a drink and her ears fell off either side of her head before popping upright again. “And I got stabbed in my own bedroom,” she countered. “So, it doesn’t seem like it matters to me if I go to a concert or if I live like a nun.”

There was a pause in their argument as the thundering sound of many paws on tile could be heard moving closer to the kitchen. The interruption would keep the volume of their conversation from rising but only for a moment.

Celeste had her father’s temper.

Having likely been let in by a maid, a horde of dogs suddenly invaded the kitchen. Ruger immediately when to his place at Owen’s side, while the rest of them swarmed Celeste for good morning sniffs, having already done so with those who had gotten up earlier. Two greyhounds, a poodle, an English bulldog were upon her all at once. Celeste took her time acknowledging them, and eventually all but Princes Horsepower abandoned her. “I don’t want a guard,” she complained, regardless of how useless it was. “I don’t need someone following me around, and getting into my business all of the time.”

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - saronym - 07-09-2018

“Interestingly enough it was Specialist Weatherfare’s analysis that located the security flaw that led to the infiltration of your bedroom. His recommendations for tightening the household security measures has kept you safe in your bed since.” Owen argued back to his daughter before the flood of canines entered the kitchen. He didn’t know how he had ended up on the side of defending Weatherfare when he wasn’t even the man Owen wanted for Celeste’s guard in the first place.

Such was the minefield that resulted from arguing with Celeste.

Owen gazed down at the ever loyal Ruger that came immediately to his side. Though he had never considered himself a dog person or even a pet keeping type of person, it was hard to keep affection for the dog from his eyes. He set his coffee mug down to pat the animal on the head before continuing his argument with his daughter.

“You’re going to have to get more creative with your arguments than that, sweetheart.” He said condescendingly. “As with all the Hart children that came before you, it is a condition to give up a bit of privacy as a price to pay for your royal birth. You're increasingly a public figure. You need personal protection. That's just the way it is.”

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - megs - 11-13-2018

Celeste's ears pinned backwards as she stared angrily, not at her father, but over his shoulder to one of the few blank spots on the opposite wall. An empty space, unadorned with spice racks, or shelves full of pots and pans and the baking implements that her mother collected that allowed the sunny yellow paint to show through. She was livid, not only because she didn't want a guard but because she knew it didn't matter how sounder her argument was, one of her parents would have a counter for it. Furthermore, it didn't matter as she was subject to her parents will. That didn't keep her from feeling that she was being treated unfairly. At this point it was only her and Nicholas that still truly had guards, but she knew that Teagan almost never bothered her brother.

If anyone needed a guard, it was her older brother, Cain. Maybe a bit of supervision would have kept him from murdering his girlfriend.

"Do me a favor-" she replied, icily, when her father reminded her of her station. Princess Celeste, heir to the throne. Her mother's shadow, "-and have another girl so I don't have to put up with this nonsense anymore."

Julianna's own ears fell flat. If she was hurt by the statement it didn't show on her features. Impossible for her to not be, however. Of all her children she only had two girls, and neither one of them wanted to consider stepping up and taking her place. Perhaps, she was leaving a legacy too tarnished for them to want to follow.

The unruly and young twenty-something bent down to pick up the wiggling English Bulldog that was panting at her feet. The dog's tongue lolled out of one side of her mouth, eyes almost completely hidden by the wrinkly folds of her face. "I'm going to get dressed," she announced. "Let's meet this Specialist Weatherfare and see how long this one lasts."

With an unfinished coffee on the counter Celeste and her dog left the kitchen with a much vigor as one could muster by stomping in bare feet.

With the cake still between them, Julianna watched her husband as he watched their youngest daughter leave. The situation was very reminiscent of the time they'd had almost the exact conversation with their oldest daughter, Anita. "We should have given her a guard when she was a child," Julianna thought aloud. "Teagan and Nicholas get along swimmingly."

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - saronym - 11-18-2018


Owen had gone silent in the face his daughter's continued arguing. He watched his wife's face carefully and knew Celeste's comments stung her though Julianna was putting on her best stoic expression. Owen's eyes rolled back towards his daughter as she gave them breeding instructions. He made sure she saw the displeased expression on his face. He opted for silence knowing that sometimes when his children lashed out it sometimes it was best for them to be left with the echoes of their own painful words than to dig his heels in and fight back.

Owen swept his hand down his wife's spine. A gesture meant to comfort her. He hummed thoughtful agreement with her statement. “She will come around.” He said it with more confidence than he had. “Alternatively, I suppose we'd better get busy making more then.” His tone was sarcastic but he gave her a briefly wicked smile.

With nothing to do while they waited for Weatherfare to arrive, Owen loitered in the kitchen with Julianna while she finished decorating her cake. He drank another cup of coffee and dolled out treats to the fleet of dogs making them display their training before handing out rewards. It wasn't long before a maid came to inform them of Atlas' arrival.

“Put him in the sun room. Bring him whatever refreshments he wants. If any.” Owen doubted the future guard would accept any treats wanting to appear militaristic probably. “We'll be with him in a few minutes. Send someone for Celeste, please.” The maid received her instructions and scurried off to attend to everything leaving Owen again alone with Julianna. He didn't rush in finishing his coffee content to allow Weatherfare to wait on them.

After a time he turned back to his wife, “Shall we?” He asked pleasantly having given up on being sullen over the failure of his choice in Barlena.

Owen escorted his wife to the sunroom where the new guardsman waited stiffly on the settee. He was framed by the wall of windows that looked out on the gardens. He looked almost out of place in the rich room. One stoic man who rose immediately upon the presence of the queen and king and bowed stiffly.

“Your Viridescence.” He said to Julianna reverently first and then to Owen. “Your Majesty.”

Owen no more than tolerated the greeting before gesturing for Atlas to resume his seat. Atlas remained standing until the queen and king had taken their seats on the couch facing the settee that Atlas had chosen. Ruger had followed them quietly with only the jingle of his collar to advertise his movements. He slid down to the floor next to the couch on Owen's side and rested his head on his paws while watching Atlas curiously. His nose twitched as he tested the air that would bring him the scent of the newcomer.

No sooner had Atlas sat did Celeste appear in the room causing him to spring up again and bow to his new charge. “Your Serenity.”

Owen sighed through his nose at all the prostrating. He knew Atlas was quite a bit older and still clearly clung to the propriety that made him uncomfortable. He looked to Julianna to open the discussion.

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - megs - 06-11-2019

Celeste curtsied politely when Atlas dressed her by one of his titles. She was following her mother's lead. The other woman had nodded respectfully to his deference. When Julianna moved to seat herself at her desk, Celeste moved to stand beside her. There were a pretty matching picture in blue. A color that the princess knew was her father's influence. The the dark, navy blue was become more of a stable in Veridian culture as the queen continued to incorporate it into her wardrobe.

The princess distracted herself with old details she had memorized about her parent's love story. She didn't want to participate in the inclusion of a new guard into her retinue. Even when she was mad at them, it was difficult not to go all misty eyed at how in love they were. Celeste could only dream of experiencing a love like theirs. It stood strong in the face of time and hardship.

Even death had not been able to keep them apart.

"We won't pretend that Celeste is not prone to bouts of disobedience."

Hearing her mother say this, brought her attention back to the conversation. Her ears fell flat to her hair and she frowned.

"I'm sure you saw the news this morning," the queen continued. "We are looking for someone who will not underestimate her. Someone who will respect the position and put the effort in that is required to keep our daughter safe." Celeste's frowned deepened as Julianna continued to speak about her as if she was not there. She glanced at her father, who she knew would have no pity for her.

"She's a teenager after all..."

Celeste looked to Atlas who was watching the queen with a respectful intensity. She couldn't deny he was a very handsome man. He was tall and built strong. He had angular features and a loping nose that stopped above full lips. She would have described them as kissable if he was not being assigned her guard.

Her tiara was beginning to irritate her. She wondered at how her mother could spend so much time in a crown.

"I am curious though," Julianna leaned forward and folded her hands on her desk. "Your work with improving security around the castle was immeasurably helpful, but why would someone with your experience and background be interested in becoming a royal guard?"

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - saronym - 06-14-2019

Atlas’ expression gave nothing away as the Queen described her daughter as incorrigible. He inclined his head affirming that he had heard the news. In a moment of lapsed discipline, he dropped eye contact with the Queen for a glance at the princess who looked irked at the mention of her behavior. The resemblance to he mother in face and hair was uncanny, but her figure was lean and lithe like her father.

Atlas returned his gaze to Queen’s face last he seem like he was ‘checking out’ the Princess too openly. In his periphery he could see the King's lanky form lounging lazily in his chair unmoving and quiet.

Atlas similarly stayed silent, withholding any of his own commentary until a question was asked of him. The question took him off guard. He hadn't expected an interview.

To buy himself a half second he said, “I appreciate the recognition. Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” He kept his posture firm and steady avoiding the urge to squirm under the questioning. He was highly aware of three sets of eyes on him. Four, if you counted the canine at the King's side.

“As you are aware, I have made it my life's work to serve the Royal Family. Although my occupational experience is focused in the Navy Special Operations, respectfully I believe that my training and Naval work experience has --”


"This job is going to be a lot of micromanaging the chaotic schedule of a young female socialite.” Owen interjected. “A lot of waiting around. Following her. In other words, tedious and mind numbingly boring work. Why do you, with your background in high intensity tactical situation responsiveness, think you're suited to following a young, impulsive Princess around?”

“Respectfully, Your Majesty that would not be my mindset in approaching this work. Finding the best flanking position as she moves about in public, managing unknown variables, and mitigating risk sounds highly engaging. My tactical experience will come into play at every step of managing her safety.”

Atlas's response wasn't well received by the King whose face was an open expression of displeasure and distrust. Owen faced his wife again letting her continue on as she pleased.

RE: Petite-Guard [Closed] - megs - 01-11-2020

Owen's pointed interrogation did not seem to faze the experienced sailor. Julianna was impressed by him and she assumed her husband was trying not to be. Just didn't want to like the man, because he wasn't his choice. Which was fine, but it was her turn to pick now that Santiago had turned out to be a failure. Her husband was looking at her now to continue to interview but she was satisfied. She had already settled on this new guard and they could ask him all the questions they wanted and it wouldn't make a bit of difference until he was put into the field.

Trial by fire and all that.

Julianna stood, and Atlas followed suit. Celeste couldn't help, but snicker and tried to hide it behind a throat clear. The older the Veridian man, the more the were so posh and polite with her mother. Especially with her father just lounging around so casually nearby.

"That's enough of the formalities," Jules chimed, a smile brightening her features. Owen would probably disagree with her. "Welcome to the family. So to speak." Julianna laughed before saying, "and good luck!"


***

In the coming weeks, what bothered Celeste most about Atlas was that he was just like her father. The public face of her father, anyway. Of course, Celeste knew how warm and loving her father could be, but that was special. Just for his family. He was almost an entirely different man to the public, and that was Atlas all the time.

He wasn't even a little bit fun, from what she could tell. Every now and again she could get other guards to play into her antics, or go easy on her, but not this one. Specialist Weatherfare came off like he had something to prove and she wondered who that could be. His father maybe? Admiral of the Royal Navy. Or just her mother, he seemed to be big on the royal family, but that was kind of boring.

The princess mulled over this as she dressed in the early morning to go get coffee at the open market. She had seen a post on Instagram about a nitro cold brew coffee place that was actually just a cart on the back of a bicycle and she wanted to try it before she went to the gym. And she wanted to try it, alone.

Celeste shoved her shoes into sneakers and walked over to her bedroom window to quietly slide it open. She'd devised what she thought was the perfect plan to get away from Atlas. Her tail swayed in her amusement. He probably thought she was still sleeping away and would do so until late morning since she had kept her phone on vibrate and tucked it under her pillow to wake her with a quiet alarm.

The sun was just coming up and the morning breeze through the window was still cool and wet.