The Tale Teller

Ch 5

The Bard had scrambled for his things after witnessing the response to his song, and despite the time of night, had hit the road south. No one had been sad to see him go. Instead, it was a miracle that some hadn't chased him out of town with torches and forks.

Once he, along with the townspeople, had left, Vaun had helped Celise and her father to tidy the mess the Inn had become. When finished Celise had sat them down at the long table in the back room with ale and honeyed bread. It was nice, but no one was hungry.

They sat in silence, pondering over the evening until Opan broke it with a curse. He wasn't usually a man for curses, but this wasn't a typical situation.

He stood with a scrape of his chair. Heavy boots paced the length of the room, before pausing to fill another cup with ale.

"Father..." Celise frowned, turning to Vaun with pleading eyes. He shook his head at her. Opan's drinking, nor his mood, was something he wanted to become involved in. At least not until necessery.

Opan gulped down half his cup, before refilling it and taking a seat at the head of the long table. "Leave me, girl. A man can drink, can he not?"

Celise gave a weak nod, eyes dropping to meet with the wood of the table. Vaun reached forward to take her fingers back into his own. She'd barely left his side since the bard's song, and this small gesture somehow seemed to keep her strong. She squeezed back, the faintest of thankful smiles passing over her lips, before it was gone again.

"Your mother would have fainted to have heard that tonight." Another sip from the cup. "How dare he come here, sleep in our bed, sit at our table, then talk to us of these foreign people and their ways. We are good people here, with good, true, ways. We shan't be turned. We're not southern."

"No, we're made of stronger stuff."

"That's right, boy!" The cup raised as if in a toast, before Opan drowned the rest of what ale was in it.

Another squeeze to his hand had Vaun turning back to Celise, who watched him carefully beneath the curls that had tumbled from her pinned hairstyle and fallen into her face. He hadn't realised it, but Vaun's own demeaner had changed at the mention of the south.

He had never fallen in love with the capital and all around it, like how he had the north and midlands. Vaun knew that he could sit here until dawn listing off reasons why the southerners were weak with their silly ideas, their materialism, and foriegn ideals and ambitions. The men who had stood over him with a dagger to his throat, the ones who had killed Corum, they had been from the south. They'd turned Vaun's indifference towards the capital into a hatred.

"I'm well." It was whispered where only Celise could hear, but it didn't ease her worried brow. The caressing of his thumb over her knuckles didn't help either.

"I suppose he's gone now." Opan looked to his empty cup, words beginning to slur ever so slightly. "That good-for-nothing-" He paused, sighing in defeat. "He brought us good trade at least."

"He did. I'm sure the inn will be busy tomorrow with everyone joining here to discuss it." Opan rolled his eyes at Vaun's words, before standing from his chair once more.

"You're probably right, and with you here they'll be after a decent story to cheer them up too." The cup was placed on the table, and he sideeyed the pitcher of ale before thankfully seeming to decide that he'd had enough for one night. "I should get some sleep, as should you two. Goodnight."

Both Vaun and Celise watched as Opan climbed the stairs nestled against the far wall, sitting in silence until he was out of sight and earshot.

"Oh, Vaun." Celise's sigh was as heavy as her head fell to her hand. "What are we to do?"

Vaun gave a one-shouldered shrug, before brushing his thumb back over the knuckles he was still holding.

Celise gave another sigh, before her head was lifting, and her entire body was sitting up straight. She wriggled her chair until it was pressed tight against Vaun's, and her head immediately fell to his shoulder. "Don't scold me, for I'm tired, and I don't care."

"If you don't care, then why ask not to be scolded?"

She huffed, knowing him well enough to read the subtle playfulness in his voice. He didn't mind her using him like a pillow, for she was far too tired to have the strength to do much else. Vaun was too worn to move her either.

"Because my love for you may make you uncomfortable." All of these years her affection had been obvious, but this was the first time she had spoken it aloud.

The words weren't a shock, but the fact she said it so carelessly was. Celise really had grown more confident since last winter. It was still something that Vaun was trying to get his head around.

"It doesn't." It had never made him feel uncomfortable. She had been too shy for him to worry about her seduction when she was a girl much too young for such things. Now, despite older and more bold, she was still the same Celise he had always known.

"Then...how does it make you feel?"

"Touched. To know I am loved and always welcomed here, it gives a sense of home when I am without one."

"Is that it?" She almost sounded offended.

Vaun looked to her, though it was difficult with her face out of his vision. "It means a lot to me, Celise. It always has."

She gave another sigh at that, fingers beginning a journey across his stomach before wrapping around his right arm. Her hand slid down, tangling their fingers back together. "I wish you would love me back."

"I know." She was warm against him, sweet, with a sleepy slur to her words. Her hand felt so small in his, despite the fact that it was only a little slimmer, fingers a touch shorter. It was as warm as a fox fur, or the summer sunshine. Warm, just like every piece of her being.

Vaun couldn't stop his other hand from threading into her hair. It was like spun silk sliding through his fingers like the gentlest of ocean waves. Celise had grown to be such a beautiful woman, that she was difficult at times to take one's eyes off. Vaun was too tired now to even try to.

It felt good to have a warm body by his side, fingers holding his own. He'd gotten used to having Corum as a companion, and it had been lonely these past few days without him. Celise, she was more than a companion he had met on the road though. Corum had quickly became his best friend, one of the best he had ever had, but Celise was like family. She was here, warm and sweet, and more loving than ever. Vaun needed her.

She squeaked as he drew her head off his shoulder, lips roughly pressing against hers in a bruising kiss. It wasn't a good kiss, it wasn't as soft and passionate as he had expected, but the kiss that followed it was.

Her arm weaved around his neck as she leant into it, fingers tangling in his dark outgrown hair, before moving down to rub at as shoulders as he explored her mouth. She tasted of things he couldn't describe. Vaun didn't know if the water he switched to drinking had been able to wash away the ale before it. He didn't know how he tasted. Celise didn't seem to be complaining though. Her eyes were closed tight, lips parted for the kisses he just couldn't seem to stop giving her.

It felt good, too good. As their held hands parted and he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him; it felt even better.

Before Vaun knew it, she was on his lap, and his hands were kneading at the space just below her corset. Her hips were soft, padded with the skirt she wore and the layers of fabric beneath it. He didn't know if Celise could even feel him through it all, but he didn't care. She tasted good, she felt good, and she numbed his heart and mind. That was all that mattered.

She moaned as his fist bunched in the fabric, lips moving to trail kisses down the curve of her graceful neck. Her was breath was ragged from their kissing, hot in his ear. It made his own need grow.

He needed her. He needed her now.

Celise was tipped off Vaun's lap, and holding onto her to keep her from losing her balance, he rose to stand with her. She was taken by the hand, and brought straight up the stairs to his room as soon as the last lantern was snuffed.