Fairy Tale Sorta

By ten.tsacmoc@retirwnogard

Published on Aug 1, 2008

Gay

Judging by my email, I have charmed and blown minds in equal measure: you all are too kind! Part of this story comes out of my interests in mythology and folklore. There is a rich body of folklore dealing with mythological creatures and young girls: the sacrificing of maidens to dragons, catching unicorns with virgins etc. Obviously, there is something about virginal humans that attracts these creatures. Conversely, if you read your Greek myths you will find all sorts of WTF? hanky panky going on, in fact Zeus once got a lovely young lady pregnant after appearing to her as a shower of gold! After that, a dragon mating with a human is really all sorts of mundane and hardly a stretch of the imagination.

Chapter 2- The Courtyard

I woke early, as was my habit. I preferred getting to the kitchen to wash up before many people would be around and rising before the sun was a small price to pay for privacy or at least for a lack of spectators waiting to see me drop something. I sat up and felt the bed shift as a heavy object rolled up against my hip. Puzzled and heart pounding, I remembered sending the smith home; I lifted the edge of the quilt and peered underneath.

Beside me, Melly slept curled up in a ball. I smiled and dropped the quilt. Melly's mother had been my wet nurse and we often slept in the same cradle as infants. The habit had continued, as we got older, though it happened far less often these days. Sex had never factored into our relationship, we were like siblings, having shared the same nipple as babes.

I slid out of bed without waking her. The low chest I used to sit on at the table also doubled as clothing storage. I may have been an embarrassment to my Mother but not so much that she'd allow me to be shoddily dressed. While not actually a monk, my taste in fashion was rather monkish. I liked dark clothing with simple decorations and few adornments. I pulled out a clean white shirt and a dark blue doublet with silver trim around the collar and sleeves with silver buttons down the front. I found a matching pair of hose with only one tiny hole and a clean pair of braies. I sighed; it was time to speak to Mother about new hose.

Scooping up my boots and boot hooks, I hurried down to the kitchen in the back of the central area of the castle. Cook nodded to me and turned her back as I ladled hot water out of the boiling pot into a small basin to wash with. As I pulled my dirty shirt off, I smelled the heavy musky odor I'd smelled the day before and wondered if that was the `dragon stink' Tamas had mentioned. I rubbed my hands together and sniffed them, the acrid smell of metal clung to them as well as the musky one. The scent brought up images of the prior day and for a moment I was transfixed reliving the day before.

I shook my head to clear it. This was no time to be mooning around like some love struck serving girl! Washing rapidly, I scrubbed the musky smell off my body and dressed clumsily to the sound of chattering girls approaching the kitchen. Melly would tie my ties and button the rest of the buttons. Deftly hooking the loops on my boots with a hook in each hand, I just barely got my boots on as serving girls started filtering into the kitchen. I scooped up my old clothes and ducked out past their shouts of good morning', tell me a story, Nicco' and `when are yeh going to visit me, lover boy?'

Melly was awake and dressed when I returned to my room, She took my dirty clothes and promised to deliver them to the washerwoman. She tied my shirt and sleeve laces as usual, and smoothed out my doublet.

"You're taking extra care of your appearance today, Nicco," she said over the top of my left sleeve.

"I am?" I said with a little laugh. "Well I have to attend to Mother."

Melly snorted, "You've never care a shaved copper what you look like to her. I fancy that young smith has caught your eye."

I felt my face heat up hotter than the fire on Tamas' forge. I stammered out a denial, but Melly waved it away with a laugh.

"I know you best of anyone, Nicco. You can't fool me." She poked me on the nose, "Nor that boy either, I wager. He's no fool; for all that he's beautiful."

I wanted to ask Melly what she knew about Tamas, but the words stuck in my throat and refused to come up. Melly straightened up and stretched.

"Milady is starting a new tapestry so now is the time to start a new love affair. I`ll keep her distracted but you owe me."

She winked and strolled out of the room, leaving me standing with my mouth open. I gave myself a little shake and sat down at the table. I tried to work for a bit, scraping an old parchment I'd already copied into a clean book which allowed the parchment to be used again, as the sun was just coming up and Mother wouldn't be out of bed yet. However, eagerness kept distracting me and threatening to damage the parchment. Finally, I put my scraping knife down with a heavy sigh and laid my head down on the table to gaze out the window. The spring morning sky was cloud free and clear blue. In the distance, I could see birds and below them newly plowed fields.

Spring was a welcome time for all folks, high or low born. It meant fresh food again, young vegetables and new fruit. It meant the end of dried or salted meat and fresh milk once again. I for one was looking forward to milk and fresh berries and cream. Spring also meant warm days and the end of the vicious north winds. Castles were horribly drafty in the winter and no amount of bundling up helped. I spent much of the winter in the archive or the kitchen huddled near the fire working as best I could.

Finally, I decided I had dilly-dallied long enough and Mother should be awake. Reaching under the table, I pulled out my old rucksack; sorting through the piles of work, I stuffed in a couple old scrolls along with a couple of blank books. I wrapped a strip of cloth tightly around the glass inkwell to keep the lid shut firmly and tucked it into the front pocket of the sack along with a fresh quill and my small knife for sharpening quills, and an old pair of hose to keep the inkwell upright. If anyone asked, I could always say the light was better in the smithy courtyard. I bit the inside of my cheek, my heart pounding so hard I was afraid I might pass out. I wasn't one for going out of my rooms much or for meeting people. Usually meeting people turned into one of two things: either a sympathy plaint for my crippled hands and the unfairness of the world or endless curiosity on everything I did, many questions turning to vulgar curiosity about how I handled various bodily functions. (I take care of them just fine, thanks.) But now my eagerness to go was giving me a heightened sense of exhilaration.

I settled a dark colored chaperon on my head and grabbing the travel cloak; I closed my door and walked down the hall to Mother's sitting room. Before opening the door, I took several deep breaths to calm myself and prepare for what lay on the other side of the door. The full light of day blistered my eyes with a riot of color gone wild. Colorful tapestries on the walls, bright colored cushions on the chairs and Mother in a bright red dress with a yellow coif and lavender barbet. As usual, I squinted as I leaned down to kiss her.

I had expected to be thoroughly ripped to shreds for taking so long to get the kettle fixed, for it costing too much and for not returning to her room after Tamas left. Mother, true to her nature did not disappoint. After so many years, I let the tirade flow over me like a river making adequate answers on a regular basis. I don't think Mother really cared because she just needed to complain.

Finally, as she ran down I decided to launch my own attack. Sitting up straight in my chair and hiding my hands in the skirts of my doublet, I looked Mother in the eyes.

"Mother, you shouldn't have hit Melly yesterday."

"She dropped my kettle," Mother answered.

"But she didn't so it on purpose, it was hot." I didn't really know the reason but that was as good a reason as any.

"Stupid girl should have used the hot pad!" Mother's voice rose. "Stupid girl!"

"No doubt you were rushing her. Demanding she attend to you right that very minute," I went on.

Mother's mouth clamped shut and her eyes sparked. I had hit the bull's-eye. I leaned back in my seat if I played this right I could maneuver Mother into telling me not to show my face to her for the rest of the day!

"You favor the servants too much, Nicco. You have to be strict with them." Mother said.

"Strict yes, but not cruel."

"Cruel! ME?" Mother's voice raised another octave. "I take very good care of my servants!"

"Still there was no reason to strike her."

"Every servant needs a cuff now and then, even good ones." Mother said sharply. "It keeps them in line and reminds them of who their betters are. I am far from cruel; I feed them and make sure they have good clothes. I even provide a mat for that girl to sleep on. Most servants sleep on the floor you know!"

"Hmmm, I don't know Mother, I don't have servants," I said accenting the `have' just bit.

"You don't need them. All you do is sit in that room and write all day. A servant would be a waste for you."

"And an unnecessary drain on your wallet, Mother?"

Mother's face turned quite red and her eyes widened. Like most tight fisted people, she hated to be called miserly, and in her own way she was generous, just not overgenerous.

"You!" She pointed at me. "I gave birth to you; I labored in pain so you could sit here and insult me. I have provided a place for you to live, I provide clothes and food and and..." Mother stuttered to a stop.

"Ungrateful wretch! Insolent child! Leave me now, don't bother me. Go beg for money from your father, I'm done with you! Melly!" Mother was in high dudgeon now. "Melly!

I stood up leisurely as Melly hurried into the room. She went to Mother with a glance over her shoulder at me. I winked, whenever Mother was most furious with me, she'd become teary and usually take to her bed with a headache and a desire to be alone.

I passed Melly and said softly, "Get a poultice for that bruise."

Melly snorted, and hurried to Mother making soothing noises. As I passed the mirror, I glanced sideways at myself and wondered for the first time, perhaps, in my life if I might look better in a brighter color. For the first time, I thought of how pale and peaked I looked in all that dark cloth. No wonder Nayne called me a "wee lad". I'd have to think about this for a while.

I pulled the door shut behind me. I wasn't especially proud of having baited Mother, but I'd make it up to her somehow, and to Melly as well. But for now Mother wouldn't expect me to be at her beck and call today and I'd be able to go to Tamas' forge unhindered.

I made a quick detour through the kitchen to sweet talk Cook out of a wedge of cheese and a small earthenware jar of ale. It seemed terribly rude to show up on another woman's threshold without an offering, especially, I thought with a grin, given the sizes of the men she was already feeding. With the exception of Kinna, every other male I had seen at the forge the day before, was at least twice my width and probably out weighed me by at least 50 lbs.

"Yeh look fine and happier n Ah can ever recall yeh lookin," Cook said surveying me head to foot. "Ah reckon yeh found a special someone. And about time yeh know, sitting up theh in yer room all day, well taint good fer a body."

I blushed and grinned. She reached up and rumpled my hair. Cook had listened to my woes and comforted my pains, both physical and emotional, through many a long night of tears and was more of a mother to me than my own mother I adored her creased face and chubby hands. Her gait rolled slightly side-to-side, being a rather large, round woman with short legs, a motion that never failed to amuse me.

She lumbered over to the fireplace to yell at the distracted boy who was supposed to be turning the spit. Deftly she cut a couple strips of meat off the side of the roast and carried them draped over her knife. A sharp shout over her shoulder made a piece of not quite stale bread materialize in front of me and she wrapped it around the meat.

I took the breakfast with a grateful kiss on her heat-weathered face and headed out the back door furthest from people who might ask questions about my destination. I chewed the meat and bread thinking of how Cook was Lord in her kitchen as much as Tamas had shown himself to be Lord in his forge. I was sure that though they'd both be respectful, neither of them would surrender control of their `kingdom' to anyone no matter their station in life.

The backdoor of the kitchen opened out to the west side of the castle grounds. Behind it was the North Wing where the servant quarters were located. Left and down towards the river was the main gate, the smithy, and the stables on the other side of the gates. The empty grounds on the upper west side of the enclosure were where the itinerant peddlers camped during the day. Today there was a half dozen wagons consisting of peddlers, cobblers, tinkers, rag buyers and later in the season, there'd be fruit and vegetable sellers as well. Voices mingled in several accents as servants and the occasional aristocrat, already up and about in the cool of the morning, examined the wares or discussed repair work.

I headed for the gate at a trot, anticipation bubbling out of my very pores to be out of the castle and continue yesterday`s adventure. As I passed the smithy, Chohee came to the door and hailed me. I stopped in surprise; I was unused to by anyone outside of my family, their servants or the kitchen folk calling out to me and backed up curious to hear what he wanted.

"Good morrow to yeh, young sir," he said, wiping sweat off his brow with a corner of his apron.

"Good morrow to you, Master Chohee," I said with a bow.

"Nah nah," he laughed. "Ah'm only a journeyman, young sir. T'won't be made master until autumn."

"Tha fire lord was ere last even, Ah reckon." He eyed me and it took all my strength to keep from looking away. "Want ta see ow Ah knows?"

I had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity, since Tamas had said he'd leave Chohee a message. Chohee stepped back into the forge and gestured to me to follow. I ducked under the low lintel and stepped down into the forge. Unlike Tamas' forge, the garrison smithy was a pit dug about a foot or so into the ground. The hard packed dirt would resist fire and help absorb some of the heat in the summer. Three solid walls rose around the edges of the pit and covered by a tile roof. The roof sloped sharply upward, dropping so low over the eaves that most people would have to duck to step through the door. The backside of the smithy was open and faced the castle wall some 50 feet or so away. The smithy was darker than Tamas' but the fireplace was almost twice as wide. Unlike Tamas' forge, it was open on both ends, the hood and chimney supported by two brick pillars.

In the center of the floor was a scorch mark, Chohee gestured to me to come closer. The nearer I got the more defined the mark became and slowly I realized I was looking at a drawing of a dragon. I stared first at it then up at Chohee, who ran a hand through his hair causing it to stick out in all directions.

"Tis a wonder e didn't burn tha ole place down."

"But how?" I sputtered.

"I reckon e slipped in where tha smithy wall meets the castle wall, a young un like im could jump that gate easily enough. Tha brat, telling me e got the message and braggin about is own power." Chohee chuckled. "'E's an uppity un, that lad is and damned proud o isself. But 'e knows we'll forgive `im anything."

Chohee shook his head again and grinned. I stared at the long curling image on the floor and wondered if it was an accurate representation of what Tamas' dragon form looked like or if it was what he hoped it would look like.

"Yeh see the fire, young sir?" Chohee asked curiously.

"Yes," I looked down. "I threw a bucket of water at him."

"Yeh what! Oh sweet heaven, `ow did that go?" Chohee's eyes were wide with surprise.

I told him rapidly what had happened, my face burning with embarrassment over having committed such a horrible breach of good manners. Chohee laughed uproariously until I thought he shake himself apart. He reached out and slapped my back just about knocking me to my knees. I staggered but kept my balance.

"Oh, me lad, yeh are a fine `un, that yeh are. I think sending yeh ta Tamas will prove ta be very interesting indeed." He burst out laughing again.

Two boys entered the forge and wanted to know what was so funny. Chohee just laughed and waved me off. I fled the forge laughter still ringing in my ears. I paused at the gate only for a moment to trade greetings with the porter. The road into town seemed to stretch endlessly in front of me and every foot I covered seemed to move to the far end of road keeping me as far away as ever.

However, despite the road's attempts to keep me away, I arrived at the town gate and paused to catch my breath. The sun was well and truly up by now and the tower clock was striking 9 o'clock as I strolled through the gate and made the turn right. Today the Street of the Carpenters was busy and the shops open. The sounds of hammering and voices filled the air; somewhere someone laughed and another swore. A young mother discussed the need for a larger table with a man, who nodded to me as I passed.

A couple of small children played outside of Sayji's house watched by a pretty girl about my age, who was spinning. The smell of hot metal and burning coal assaulted my nose well before I reached the forge. The smithy looked closed up with the shutters shut even though the door stood open. As I paused in the cul-de-sac unsure of whether I should approach or not, Tamas' voice roared out the open door giving an order and a moment later the clang of metal on metal followed. Slowly I walked across the cul-de-sac, the clang of metal becoming louder with every footstep.

As I reached the door, I heard Tamas yell again followed by a splash and a very audible sizzle, that brought back my embarrassment of the prior day and I stopped unable to go on. I stood there bouncing from one foot to the other and listening to Tamas' rumbling voice giving directions.

"Are yeh lookin fer my Master?" said a voice behind me.

I spun around to find one of the apprentices from the night before standing behind me, a large woven basket on his shoulder. He was a tall, solid man with brown hair, green eyes and an easy smile. I nodded slowly.

He stepped through the door ducking slightly and shifting the basket to the floor. Metal rattled against metal as he dropped it to the floor.

"Hai, Master Huron! Theh's a young lad ere' ta see yeh," he gestured to me to come in.

Tamas' grandfather was already striding toward me as I stepped in. He stopped and smiled, then turned toward the forge.

"Tam-boy! Someone here to see you!"

Tamas' words from last night came back to me 'Granfa is the Master Smith here; I'm only a journeyman, so they are his apprentices. But he spends less and less time in the forge these days so they learn mostly from me.' My face turned red as I realized the apprentice had meant Grandfather not Tamas.

"Ah, yeh be wanting Tamas," the apprentice said. "Why did yeh no say so?"

"Teru, don't tease Nicco," Tamas said shortly. He stopped in front of me, wiping his hands on a scrap of threadbare cloth. Today he was completely dressed: heavy breeches, a linen shirt permanently grayed from smoke and metal, and a heavy leather apron. His long braid coiled on the top of his head; skewered by four hair sticks shone like a red gold crown. The forge was dimmer, due to the closed shutters and slightly smokier today, but still the young journeyman glowed like the metal he worked.

"I'm filthy," Tamas said with a smile. "Tis a busy morning, already three broken coulters and a half dozen scythes on top o' the usual work."

"Coulters?" I asked feeling stupid.

"Ta blade what cuts the ground on a plough," Teru said holding up a couple pieces of metal.

Oh," I paused. "I should go then."

Tamas frowned petulantly, "Don't want yeh too."

"If you're busy, I'm only in the way."

Tamas opened his mouth to speak but Grandfather cut him off, sounding sharper and more authoritarian than he had the night before. In that moment, I recognized the true Master of this forge.

"If young Nicco wishes, the courtyard is pleasantly warm and sunny. We'll be breaking for lunch in a couple hours."

Tamas nodded, his eyes pleading with me to stay. I nodded and looked out through the back door to the courtyard. I could easily sit out there and do my copying. The forge was too dim anyway to see the old faded texts clearly.

I stopped at the door and surveyed the shop. The forge on the upper end glowed red and blue and Kinna peered out from behind the bellows. He waved and disappeared again. The days work had begun and unlike the neatness of the night before there were tools scattered about the place. A large pair of tongs leaned against the side of the forge, a hammer on the floor by it. The size of some of the hammers made my arms hurt just thinking of trying to swing them.

Glancing up I noticed a series of chains connected to hooks and wooden bars and looped over timbers or attached to ropes. Along one of the timbers were a series of hooks, some with flat pieces of iron with different size and shaped holes in them.

The four men had returned to their work, the still unnamed apprentice taking position at the bellows. Tamas was leaning over a glowing bar of metal in the forge, the glow of the metal reflected in his face. I shivered at the raw power showing in his face and the tension of his body. For a moment, I was afraid of this powerful boy who not only could pick me up and break me in half but who could burn me to ashes on a whim.

Tamas picked up the bar with the tongs and rotated on his heel to the anvil. Gently placing the bar on it, he switched his grip to his left hand; with his right, he picked up a hammer. To my surprise he started to sing, the song was a bar song, scurrilous and bawdy, Mother would be extremely scandalized to hear it. His voice floated up deep and languid, the notes punctuated by the ringing hammer blows; with that he returned to the gentle, laughing boy of the night before, though a somewhat naughtier boy than I had realized, listening to the song enumerate Sweet Kate's many charms.

I stepped out into the courtyard and strode toward the kitchen, my nose teased by the smell of cooking food. The night before he'd told that although he was popular with the village girls, he'd had nothing much to do with them for a year and I wondered idly if that meant he had been playing with the village boys. I shook my head to rid it of the image of Tamas holding Teru as he had held me.

The kitchen door was open and the smell of hot soup, cooking meat and fresh bread drifted out making my mouth water. A window next to the door let in the morning sun making the small room bright and cheerful. Under the window was a counter running from door to wall with a variety of cooking utensils and a couple small washbasins on it. The middle of the room was taken up by a long trestle table, the benches still outside in the courtyard. There was barely enough room between the edge of the trestle and a tall hutch to squeeze by to get to the fireplace. The hutch had earthenware and wooden bowls, mugs, a pretty ewer and a row of wooden spoons polished to a fine sheen lined up on its shelves. Someone, I suspected Kinna, had stuck a handful of daffodils in a mug. The night before, the kitchen had felt larger because the trestle hadn't been there. As at the castle, space needed reusing and people disassembled tables and put them outside to make space for other activities.

Nayne was standing at the fire stirring a large pot. As I approached the door I'd heard her remind someone to `mind the bread' and make sure the butter was fresh. She had my instant sympathy, having to feed those four giants in the forge everyday. I rapped lightly on the door with my knuckles as I stepped over the threshold. Nayne turned around and broke into a smile.

"Nicco," she said, never breaking her rhythm with the spoon.

"Good morrow," I said, setting my rucksack on the floor by the door. The travel cloak I draped over the end of the trestle table.

Crossing the room, I took her hand and kissed it lightly. Nayne colored and gave a half gasp half giggle. I gave her my best smile, the one guaranteed to take the wind out of even my mother's sails.

"Ohhhhh," breathed Nayne. She patted me on the arm. "Tamas will be jealous, you know, he was all bubbling over when he returned here last night."

I grinned and blushed. A half smothered gasp behind me made me straighten up and half turn around. A young girl, probably about fourteen, stood in the alcove I'd seen the night before, holding an earthenware bowl. Her pale face looked daggers at me from under her hood and I wondered what I had done to anger her. She brushed past me and slammed the bowl on the table before bolting out the door.

Nayne sighed, "That girl." She shook her head and moved to check the bread in the oven.

"That was Gisela," she said into the oven. She shut the door and straightened up. "She has her heart set on Tam, even though he's made it very clear he's not interested." She sighed again.

"He was very good to her when she first came here, very brotherly, made sure she felt at home. Helped her learn her way around town, since she grew up on one of the farther out farms." She stirred the soup again. "He insists he never seduced her or made any promises to her; both Da and I believe it."

"I guess that explains the look of death," I said gazing out the door.

"Tis hard to be that age, not a child but not quite an adult, and your heart going wild every time a handsome man smiles at you, and Heaven knows, Tam is a fine beauty," Nayne smiled. "I was only a year older than her when I met Kinder." She looked out the door. "That's Tam's Da. He was hurt when I found him lying in Mother's strawberries, bleeding all over the berries." She chuckled and looked back at me.

"I didn't know he was a dragon then, all I knew was he was the prettiest thing, male or female, I'd ever laid eyes on." She flushed slightly. "Tam was born a wee bit over a year later. Mother would have been devastated if she`d still been alive.. Da was livid at first, but Kinder promised to take care of me and the wee one."

"Tamas' father-" I stopped not sure what I wanted to say.

"Oh, he comes and goes. He's a wyvern; they're the wanderers of the dragon clans. He tried to stay; he's a very talented silversmith. Smithing is in Tam's blood with his Da and Granfa both being masters of their craft." She paused and looked away again. "I told him to go."

"Heh?" I said surprised.

"Mm, yes," she smiled softly her eyes focused on something I couldn't see. "He was so miserable. Not my beautiful mercurial lover any more, just a frustrated miserable man. I couldn't let him continue to live that way."

Her voice tapered off; she continued to look off where I couldn't follow. Unsure of what I should do, I stood there shifting from one foot to the other. Nayne shrugged and reached out to take my hand.

"The time will come when he does the same," she said nodding toward the forge. "It's in his blood, he may be a firedrake but he's still half wyvern. The wandering blood will put his feet in motion one day."

I swallowed and nodded. I was a grown man, I had only known this bright boy less than a day, and I couldn't possibly have an attachment to him already. However, deep in my heart, an ache started nevertheless. Nayne squeezed my hand.

"But never you worry, unlike their human kin, dragons are very loyal and very devoted to their families, he'll always return to the place he calls home."

"Hai, what am I doing wool gathering about like a girl?" Nayne threw her arms up and laughed. Her laugh was light and airy and I found myself laughing along with her.

"Soon enough I'll have those great hulking men in here demanding enough food to feed a family of ten for a month." She chuckled.

"Oh food!" I said, scurrying over to my rucksack.

Nayne quirked an eyebrow at me; now I knew where her son got the gesture from. The cheese was undamaged from the trip and the ale jar's stopper was still firmly in place. I handed both over to Nayne who protested that it was unnecessary, but I insisted. She nodded and put the cheese on the table and the ale jar on a shelf above the counter to the right of the door.

The cloak she directed me to carry into the room behind the kitchen. It was a small windowless room with a fireplace backing the one in the kitchen. There were two cushioned chairs pulled close to the fire. A small table sat near the closest one; on it was a faded old book, a spindle and distaff and a half knitted sock. The other side of the room had a pile of folded bedding and sleeping mats, several rag rugs covered the worn floor. Along the wall beside the door was a row of hooks with cloaks hanging from them. I hung the cloak on an empty hook. Under the cloaks were two small chests, the one closest had Teru written in shaky letters across the top.

Opposite and to the left of the kitchen door was a flight of stairs, I peered up them but it was too dark to see anything. The worn bottom steps shone from a recent cleaning. A small door by the stairs led to another room. The whole house was tiny but clean and neat. Nayne kept her "castle" in perfect condition. I wondered briefly what Mother would say if she were to visit. Perhaps the lack of blaring color would send her back home to bed with a headache.

Returning to the kitchen, I asked Nayne about a board I could use as a writing surface. She thought for a minute then went to the pantry off the stair alcove. She returned with a small door in her hand.

"The cabinet broke when that great hulk of a son of mine decided to use it as a stepstool," She glared mockingly. I tried unsuccessfully to smother my laughter in my hands at the image of Tamas` shamefaced look. "But I kept the door; you never know when you might need a board."

"Or a door either, for that matter!" She said with a laugh.

Tucking the door under one arm, I caught up my rucksack and went out into the courtyard. The morning sun was high in the sky making for few shadows; a nice strip of grass alongside the house where it met the city wall looked like a pleasant place to sit and work. A rose bush shaded the kitchen window and I tucked my rucksack under it after digging out the inkwell.

Luckily for me it hadn't leaked or spilled, not only was that messy but ink was expensive, a loss neither the archivist nor I wanted to bear. Settling my back against the house and the door in my lap, I spread a scroll out on the top of the door. Using a small rock to weigh it down, I let the rolled end hang down to the ground. My copybook would rest nicely on the bottom part of the door and the inkwell near my thigh but out of range of my foot.

I found the place where I left off and proceeded to copy the text of the old scroll into the book. As I finished a section of scroll, I pulled it along the door until I had a roll on both sides. As usual when I started copying, I shut out everything around me and concentrated solely on the faded text and getting it copied correctly. Even the repeated chiming of the town clock didn't disturb my concentration. Dimly I was aware of movement and voices but they meant nothing to me.

It wasn't until a bare arm wrapped around my shoulders that I snapped out of my reverie and nearly jumped out of my hose in surprise. Fortunately, Tamas had picked a moment when I was hunched forward reading the old scroll and not writing, an inkblot would have earned him a thorough chewing out.

The arm around my shoulder tightened and lips brushed my cheek and ear. I shivered, capped the inkwell and carefully set aside my makeshift desk. Tamas dropped a pair of earthenware mugs into my lap. I scrambled to catch them before they could strike the ground.

"Heh, they won't break that easily," he said. "Melicent makes her goods to withstand children and warfare... the two being somewhat alike, all things considered."

I snickered, "You`re basing that on having Kinna around?"

"Hai."

Tamas gripped the stopper of the ale jar in his teeth and worked it loose. Taking one of the mugs, he poured a tall draught into it and a little less into my mug. He took a deep swig and let out a contented sigh afterwards.

"That's good stuff, tis finer than most o' what I get here. Mum has so many to feed she can't afford this fine o' ale." He licked his upper lip and poured himself another cup. "Ahh, that takes the taste o' the metal out o' my mouth. I can enjoy my meal now."

I started to rise but his arm pulled me back down. I leaned back against his very manly side, my heart pounding fit to burst out of my chest. His arm slid down mine and came to a rest in my lap. Tamas made a contented purring noise and leaned back against the house.

"Kinna's bringin it. One o' his chores as an apprentice," he said, his voice somewhat muffled by the mug.

"Can he carry that much?" I asked in surprise.

"Hai, he'll be all right. Mum won't let him carry more'n he can handle anyway; she doesn't want her crockery broken."

I chuckled and rotated a bit so I could see him clearly. He'd washed since leaving the forge and small droplets of water glistened at the edges of his hairline. He'd let down his braid and it fell over his bare shoulder, a ribbon of fire cascading down his bare chest and pooling in his lap. I reached out and stroked it lightly, marveling at how smooth and silky it was.

"Mmmm," he said, his eyes closed, head resting against the wall.

I sipped my ale and studied his long torso, heavily ridged with muscle and sprinkled with freckles. In the mid afternoon light, I saw several small scars on his belly and chest, tokens of living a life so close to fire and hot metal. Tentatively I brushed his stomach with my fingers, soft hair bending under my fingers. Tamas' eyes remained closed as if he'd fallen asleep. The hand holding his mug was work hardened, the hand of someone much older than sixteen. I looked down at the hand in my lap; a large puckered scar covered the back, stretched in places by muscle. I ran my index finger over it feeling the uneven skin. I shivered imagining how much it must have hurt.

"Dropped a hot piece of' iron on m'hand," Tamas murmured.

"EH!?" My voice came out as a squeak.

"I was hmmmm eleven, I think, always been big for my age. Granfa was already starting to teach me the trade, as I was underfoot all the time anyway." He grinned without opening his eyes. "Dropped the bar and heard a sizzle, didn't even have time to think oh shi-', err I mean oh no' before the pain hit."

He opened one eye lazily, "Tis `nother reason we keep water in the smithy, burns happen." He grinned and shut his eye again.

"Granfa's journeyman grabbed me an dumped me in the water, I was screamin' and bawlin' fit to be heard up at the castle. I remember people coming runnin' from the street, Mum cryin`, someone pukin' their guts up and smellin' burnt meat."

"Luck was on my side, the bar had cooled enough and Gareth got me in water fast enough that it didn't burn to the bone. I'd'a probably lost my hand then." He paused. "Granfa was so scared all he could do was yell at me." He chuckled and opened his eyes.

Sitting up he set his mug down and wrapped the other arm around me. His chin rested on my shoulder. I gripped his thick wrist with my right thumb and index finger. My stomach was doing flip-flops and I was willing it not to turn over completely.

"Mum kept me roarin' drunk for two, three days, afterwards I wasn't sure which was worse: the burn or the hangover. " He laughed. "And between beer she kept pourin' soup down my throat, I've never pissed so much in my life! But I was back at the forge four days later, my hand slathered in the nastiest smellin' goo and wrapped up; wearin one o' Granfa's gloves and demanding to work."

He chuckled again and I willed my stomach to go back to sleep. I couldn't begin to imagine what that injury had been like but I could see the eleven-year-old Tamas in the forge demanding to work again. Unexpectedly I laughed softly.

"Hmm, what are you imaginin`?" Tamas' voice was close to my ear.

"I was imagining Grandfather's face when he showed up in the smithy."

Tamas chuckled again. "Red as a boiled beet he was and unable to speak. Gareth nearly pissed himself yellin' at me to go back to the house." He laughed again. "Didn't work none, I stood my ground and they let me work, but twas easy stuff, one handed things."

Tamas was silent for a bit. I hardly breathed from having his body pressed up to my back; warm arms around my waist. I could hear him breathe and feel his hair on my cheek.

"Nicco," he said finally, "look at me."

I turned my head; his lips caught mine in a kiss. Surprised my head moved and Tamas' lips slid off to my cheek. He nipped my chin lightly, eyes so blue I could fall into them watched to see what I'd do. Slowly I stuck out my tongue and licked his nose. His eyes widened and he smirked.

Next thing I knew I was looking at the sky. A bird flew lazy over the courtyard before Tamas' face covered my view. He smirked again, and then leaned over to kiss me. I stretched up and wrapped my arms around his neck. Soft hair pillowed my hands. Unlike last night's kisses, this one was hard and fierce, my mouth felt bruised but my body was on fire. My arms tightened pulling him closer.

I wasn't sure what I wanted just a vague "want more" in the back of my head. Tamas' hands explored my sides feeling the curves of my thighs, squeezing my butt, tickling my knees. I squirmed against the tickling but his arms were rock solid and there was no getting away.

"Gisela is `bout ta leap inta tha well," said a dry unfamiliar voice with a childlike lisp.

Tamas' head jerked up and I twisted in his lap. Standing three feet away was Kinna holding a tray packed with crockery. He snorted and set the tray down. Tamas' eyes sparked and a ripple of flame streaked down his cheek.

"Teru and Noah put you up to that?" He asked.

Kinna shrugged and started moving bowls to the paving stones. He straightened up and put the tray on his head.

"Honestly and in front of a child," he huffed, turning sharply on his heel and streaking for the kitchen door.

"That sounded like your mother," I said suppressing a laugh.

Tamas glared in the direction of the door for a moment then burst out laughing in a deep rumbling laugh that seemed to vibrate through my ribcage. His arms tightened momentarily before straightening up. I slid out of his lap and studied the bowls on the ground. There were three bowls of soup and a plate with some cheese slivers.

"Looks like we get no privacy even eating," Tamas sighed

Kinna appeared again, carrying a tray laden with bread, cutlery and a small bowl of butter. Carefully, he eased them to the ground; then leaned the tray against the house. He plopped to the ground cross-legged and reached for a bowl.

Tamas sighed and leaned over Kinna to grasp the tray. Kinna looked up startled. Tamas tapped him lightly on the head with the tray; then handed it to me.

"Nicco needs a place to hold his bowl, brat," he said affectionately. Kinna nodded, but never stopped eating.

Tamas handed me a bowl. The aroma of thick rich lentil and pea soup floated up to my nose lightly seasoned with pepper and parsley. Chunks of salt pork floated in the bowl. I took a deep draught of the delicious smell.

"Cook would be pleased," I thought. "She always says pea soup needs to be thick enough to spread it on bread like butter." I made a mental note to compliment Nayne later.

Tamas and I ate with little conversation, concentrating on the warm food. We ate the thick soup easily with a spoon, and then mopped it up with bread. I felt full, content, and just a little sleepy. Glancing at Kinna, I saw he was dozing over the end of his meal. The bowl slipped from his hand and would have crashed on the paving stones had Tamas not caught it.

Tamas chuckled and pried the spoon out of his other hand, placing both on the tray in my lap. The city clock chimed two and I looked at Tamas in surprise.

"It's two already?"

"Hai, I kept them overlong in the forge," he said uncurling and standing up. He stamped a foot; then squatted down in front of his dozing apprentice. Carefully he lifted the small boy onto his shoulder. Kinna struggled and mumbled something. Tamas pat his back and spoke soothingly to him; the boy relaxed onto the smith's broad shoulder.

"Don't worry about the dishes," he said over the small dark head. "Gisela can do her job and fetch them in."

He strode towards the kitchen door, ducking slightly. Nayne was standing up as I came in and she followed Tamas into the inside room. Grandfather waved me over to the table.

"Gisela, go get their dishes," he said sharply.

The girl jerked to her feet with an incoherent noise. She glared at me and stomped out the door. The old smith watched her, his brows pulled together. Teru murmured something about getting tired of her tantrums. I started to apologize but Teru cut me short.

"Been goin' on fer some time now. She gets jealous at anyone what talks to Tam and then goes about tha rest o' tha day stompin' and slammin' things."

"It's going to stop," Tamas said coming back in the room. "I'm well and truly tired o' it and Mum doesn't need the extra work."

The girl appeared in the doorway as Tamas made his ultimatum. She let out a small squeak and put the tray on the counter. Turning on her heel, she disappeared out of my line of sight into the courtyard. Tamas sighed and sat down.

"Sorry Mum," he said. "I made more work for you."

Nayne patted his shoulder and lightly tugged his braid, "Maybe you'll think before speaking now?"

He flushed and mumbled something looking down. Nayne's face was gently teasing as she took a seat by her son; across the table, Teru grinned at Tamas.

"Oh, don't you be worried, she hasn't gone far. She'll be back soon as you men leave here. I shall have to listen to her tears but a few words of sympathy never hurt no one."

"I don't understand why you don't just send her home," Tamas said with a scowl.

"Hmm, maybe because I remember how it is to a girl of that age," She smiled up at her son. "After all that's why you are here."

Tamas turned bright red, as did the apprentice I didn't know. Teru grinned into his mug and Grandfather made a `harrumph' noise into his mug. The younger apprentice shot to his feet abruptly.

"So are we done?" he asked. He was a tall, lanky blond boy about Tamas' age.

Tamas nodded, "I want you and Teru to clean up, dump the ash box, and then you're free for the rest of the afternoon."

"Go home and see your mum a minute before hunting down your friends, Noah."

The blond flushed and looked down as everyone else chuckled. Teru stood up and stretched, the joints in his shoulders popped audibly.

"Yowch, but I'm sore, yeh great divil of a smith. I wonder if Mina would give me a rub down."

He smacked Noah on the back and the two went out into the courtyard talking and laughing. Grandfather stood up slowly, leaning heavily on the table. He looked tired and frighteningly old.

"You shouldn't encourage apprentices to be so familiar, Tam-boy," he said sternly. "You'll get nowt good out of them, but indeed I do think Kinna has the right idea."

He walked toward the inner room, Nayne close behind him, fussing quietly. Her soft voice shut off with the click of a door shutting.

"Some apprentices you have to be strict with or they don't work," Tamas said. "But Teru and Noah work hard with little prodding. Teru is the closest friend I've had since Gareth left."

"Left?"

"Made Master and went back home to his village. I miss him, he got me drunk the first time." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Got me laid first, too. Girl was a friend o` his."

I flushed and he chuckled, "Poor things, Teru, Noah, Kinna and Granfa, I kept them busy out o' selfishness."

"Selfishness?"

"Hai, I wanted the afternoon free to spend with you," he leaned across the table, belly brushing a soup bowl.

"Oh," I said with a shy smile. "What did you have planned?"

"Well, I could throw yeh down an rip off all yer clothes an-"

Tamas!"

He chuckled and sat up. A small noise came from the other room and I clapped my hands over my mouth. I stared at him wide eyed. He turned his head toward the doorway and listened for a moment then shrugged.

"Laddy is out cold, `e'll not wake for sometime," his head swiveled back to face me.

"Actually, I wanted to take you around and show you the village. I know it not much, but its home. And some of my favorite places outside the village. There's a place down by the river..." his face reddened and his voice trailed off.

I smiled and leaned forward, "Sounds like a grand way to spend the day."

Tamas broke into a grin that nearly blinded me with its radiance. He grabbed my head and half pulled me across the table into a breathtaking kiss. I heard a bowl clatter and stuck my hand into the butter trying to steady myself. With my left hand, I pounded on his shoulder until he let go. He grinned sheepishly.

I held up my hand looking around for something to wipe the butter on. There was nothing on the counter behind me and I was about to stand up when I felt something on my hand. Spinning sharply around on the bench, he caught my hand in a rough but gentle grip. Tamas was squatting at the end of the bench his back pressed to the small hutch. What I had felt was his tongue run up my buttery hand. His eyes sparkled and he licked it again. Around the back of my hand, his tongue slid back and forth and up across my fingers. Slowly his tongue ran up the side of my hand and flicked across the tip of my pinky. Back down my hand trailed his tongue and I squirmed at the ticklish sensation.

He turned my hand over and licked the palm. I moaned a soft sound and he grinned. His tongue slid across my palm and up under my twisted fingers, his chin tickling my already sensitive palm. I moaned again and shivered.

"Tamas," I said surprised at how husky my voice sounded.

"Nicco," Tamas' deep voice rumbled like thunder.

Gently he worked his tongue around and through my fingers, separating them smoothly and painlessly. He took my index finger into his mouth and sucked on it. Heat flooded down my back and fire poured into my groin. I groaned and squirmed. Tamas' grin was pure seduction and he looped his tongue around my middle finger and pulled it in too.

"Ahh..." I moaned.

Tamas' tongue was setting my body on fire and causing an incredible ache in my groin. I squirmed and moaned some more. Tamas pulled my fingers out of his mouth and looked up at me, his eyes aglow. He tipped his head and took the last two fingers into his mouth.

"Tamas!" I cried. His free hand gripped my left hand in a warm, fiery hold. My fingers relaxed and wrapped around his hand, gripping it in a death grip.

He chuckled and wrapped his tongue around my pinky, pulling it repeatedly. By now I was on fire and my cock was hard enough to explode and aching enough to bring tears to my eyes. Tamas let my fingers slide out of his mouth. He looked up at me and I leaned forward. He surged up and caught me in a kiss.

Fire poured over me, hot like metal burning me to the bone. I moaned against his lips feeling like I was about to melt. My fingers slid across his back futilely trying to find something to grasp. His arms crushed me as he devoured my mouth. His tongue so agile on my fingers was just as spectacular on my tongue. Tamas' lips slid across my jaw towards my throat. He sucked on my jaw just below the hinge. I moaned and tightened my arms around him. He slid down my neck to the shoulder, which he sucked furiously.

"Whoa, eff me! Tamas, yeh never `eard o' doin thah in yer room?" Teru's voice was amused. Behind him, Noah started coughing hard enough to bring up a lung.

I was hotter now than ever before, my face felt as red as the forge had earlier. The ache in my hose was gone, replaced by an ache in my feet to run far away. Tamas sat up and rocked back on his heels.

"Tha one day I need yeh to be slow, yeh fly through yer chores. Yer fancy girl thah grand, Teru?" Tamas grinned.

"Oh Mina's a fine bit o' girl, what when I kin git er away fro er mum." Teru grinned widely and Noah started coughing again.

Teru stepped over the threshold and stopped at the end of the table. His eyebrows pulled together for a moment and for a moment I feared he was going to yell at me.

"Tcha, that girl, ne'er came back, tho small wonder. Thah scene woulda caused 'er ta leap inta tha well, sure as I stand 'ere. Noah, elp me clear this so we can move tha table fer Mistress Nayne, as it's obvious, er son is too busy to `elp." He raised an eyebrow at Tamas, who made a rude gesture with his right hand. Teru whooped in laughter.

I scrambled out of the way, my heart pounding wildly. I was totally mortified, yet deep inside I was also disappointed. Things had just started to get incredibly intense and my body was aching from disappointment. I wondered how Tamas felt and how he could be so calm. I had a sudden rush of sympathy for the girl, Gisela, watching the three disassemble the benches and table casually trading insults.

Pressure in my bladder urged me to the outhouse, where to my frustration first I could hardly loosen my belts because of shaky fingers; then it took several deep breaths to relax enough to finish the job. Frustrated I leaned against the door and buried my face in my hands. How long I stayed there, I don't really know but after a bit, the smell made me straighten up and shake my head. I scrubbed my face with my sleeve and reached for the handle.

"Nicco?" Tamas knocked and called.

I pulled the door open with a smile. Tamas looked at me inquiringly. He reached up and cupped the side of my face with one rough hand.

"Sorry, I forgot about' them. Yeh git me too excited," he said his agitation making his accent almost incomprehensible to me. "I embarrassed yeh, I wouldna be shocked if yeh went `ome and didna come back agin." He stared at the ground. "When we actually do it I want it ta be slow and good for both o' us, not wild like animals and risk hurting yeh."

I rapped him sharply on the nose and he jerked his head up, tears forming in his eyes. He sniffled and I wrapped my arms around his neck. His face changed from miserable to ecstatic in an eye blink and he squeezed me.

"Ai, ai, you great bear of a man, don't kill me." I said; he snickered and kissed me again.

"Weren't you going to show me the town?" I asked against his lips. He nodded.

Tamas stepped back and took my hand; he half pulled me across the courtyard to the house. Leaving me in the kitchen, because "I don't think I could trust myself if you were in my room" he pounded up the stairs. I shook my head, the overgrown boy hadn't even thought to ask if I wanted him to "trust himself" or not.

In a few minutes, he was back dressed in the same clothes as the night before and once again, I felt quite drab against him. Tamas, however, didn't seem to notice and I barely has a chance to catch my breath before he was dragging me out of the small house.

Fortunately, for me, I was long legged because keeping up with that excited boy was not for the weak of heart. But for the rest of the afternoon, he took me down every street and into several houses, a couple of pubs and all through the market. Panting for breath, I hurried to keep up, laughing and gasping for breath alternatively. Never in my life had I spent a day with so many people and had so much fun. This overgrown boy was going to do something to my life I was sure. What it turned out to be was quite outside of either of our imaginings.

July 30, 2008

As I wrote this, I thought, "OMG You are so gay! Writing gay porn to show tunes! How do I explain this to the kid?" Readers who have followed me for years will get the joke, the rest of you well? ~_* hums "Memory, all alone in the moonlight..."

Next: Chapter 3


Rate this story

Liked this story?

Nifty is entirely volunteer-run and relies on people like you to keep the site running. Please support the Nifty Archive and keep this content available to all!

Donate to The Nifty Archive
Nifty

© 1992, 2024 Nifty Archive. All rights reserved

The Archive

About NiftyLinks❤️Donate