A Midsummer's Saga Pt. 04

"So, you're the Kontarian prisoner, then?"

He inclined his head and jingled his chains. "Me? No. You must be confusing me with someone else."

Well then.

She had been fairly sure that she was going to find an impressionable forest dipshit down here, and in her triumph over having engineered this meeting she hadn't quite expected him to talk back to her. She smiled, with one corner of her mouth.

"You always chat shit at people you've just met?" she asked.

Now this wasn't exactly the sort of a conversational turn that he'd expect of Harmeni nobility, though admittedly he had very little experience in this field. He took a better look at her. She must have been his age more or less, very pretty and with hair reaching past her shoulders that matched in colour her golden jewellery. Still, she had that expression about her like she was constantly judging you to fall short of some measure, that way her front teeth showed in her catty smile, a mocking twinkle in her eyes. Her eyes. What's that colour; blue, but a lot darker than his own? Sapphire, or someshit.

He rallied whatever pride the situation was allowing him to. He looked to the ceiling and shrugged.

"I'm Princess Gabrielle. Of Lhamedos," she added with emphasis.

"Of where?"

She paused. "I'm a princess of royal blood, is the point. And you are?"

"Well, I'm Aerin. Of the first Kontarian village from the west. My house is the third on the right behind that one spruce tree. I watch over horses and stuff." She smiled wider. His attempts to banter her out of the cell were promising to be more fun than she had from a conversation in a long while. "So," he went on, "what are you doing here?"

Now that was an excellent question.

"I've come to examine you," she said, scanning him from toetips to fingertips. "They say you tried to nick Titulus's banner."

"Yeah, well, what of it?"

"Why did you do that?"

He blushed and looked sideways. "None of your business why." Ha. There, she had him.

"I bet you thought that stunt was gonna make you the coolest guy in all of Kontaria." He didn't respond. "I bet you fancy yourself craftier than Titulus himself."

"Look, I don't know what do you want but I'm not telling you anything. And if that neckless piece of shit didn't want anyone to touch his banner then maybe he shouldn't have dragged it into our fucking forest!" To his confusion, she brightened up and laughed at this. It wasn't even that "neckless piece of shit" was a superb insult by itself; it just felt great to finally meet someone who shared her opinion on Titulus.

"Watch your mouth, boy. You might end up insulting someone important."

He didn't pick up on this, and just lowered his head. "Well, I'm done talking with you, so no worries."

She should have guessed that he'd be too down to be much fun. Very few people in his situation would make good company. He needed some picking up.

"Oh don't be so melodramatic. In a week or two they'll wrap up this stupid war and they'll let you go."

She immediately regretted saying that. Aerin looked up at her, and just for a briefest moment -- before he controlled himself and assumed a nonplussed expression -- she saw in his eyes a sudden desperate hope, a sort of pleading for her words to be true. They weren't. Kontaria might well defend itself, but the boy, for disrespecting the King's Eagle, must surely die. And though he visibly did his best to bury this hope, there was no doubt from his fidgeting movements and sudden talkativeness that she got his heart to beat faster.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm glad you're here to sort out the war. I'm sure that one word from you and it will all end well."

"Maybe. How did you go from watching over horses to sneaking around Titulus anyway?"

"It's wartime, genius. We get called to warbands."

"So you were in a warband?"

"Yeah," he lied. "I'm a warrior."

"You were not at the battle, though?"

"Well someone needs to scout, no? They'd have me at the battle but I'm just very good at scouting, for your information."

"I'd hate to see how the bad scouts end up, then."

"Obviously they can face a fate no worse than talking to you, Gabrielle."

She leered and replied nothing but moved from her place and circled around him. How odd, to be addressed by her first name. When you're introduced to a Princess Gabrielle, it's the Princess part that you're supposed to pay attention to, and title accordingly. Well, but what can woods weirdos know about protocol.

His rags were very worn out and his right sleeve was half torn away, leaving a large hole through which she could see from behind the exposed side of his chest; ribs and muscles moving as he breathed. He had just the sort of lean neat body that she had imagined. She stood there staring intently at his naked skin, letting her imagination fly.

Unaware of that, he pored over the conversation so far. Her words about Kontaria winning the war and about his eventual freedom... yeah, they seemed to confirm his first thought -- she was sent here to gain his trust, with feigned sympathy and false hope. But why then was she mostly mocking him? What was her deal? Why did his captors send her here?

"So what are you doing in Behem?" he asked.

"What?"

He arched back his neck to look at her. "I said, what are you doing in Behem? If you're not from here."

She hesitated.

"I'm completing my education here. A famous place of learning, Behem."

"Is it?"

"Yes, exceptional," she said, walking back in front of him.

"More exceptional than your capital? Are you sure you're a real royal?"

He must have touched a sore point, because the girl bristled. She pointed to her necklace. "You see that? A royal eagle. My father is the King's own cousin. I don't see how you could know anything about real royal blood, horse boy."

He squinted at the necklace. Indeed, that was a royal eagle, that fucking bastard of a bird that had got him into this. Unlike the gilded one on the banner, though, this one was made of solid gold. And as the banner one was displayed on the background of royal colours, this one was exhibited against Gabrielle's skin, the bit that was left to see out of the high cut of her dress: a small rectangle of the top of her chest, exposing the tips of her collarbones (currently rising in indignation). He suddenly thought that it was a great pity that the garment was so unrevealing. At least it was well fitted, allowing him to see the shape of her body. She had nice breasts, he thought. Nicely proportioned, not too large, probably fun and bouncy like that girl's, under the tree, when the warband went to battle...

He barely had time to consider all of this, when, to his dread, he realized that his cock was beginning to swell. He also realized that the only thing keeping it hidden from her was one thin layer of coarse, worn-out fabric. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Pipe down, boy. He tried to focus on the chains and the cell. What were they talking about, again?

"Alright, whatever you say," he tried. With every heartbeat, his cock was getting heavier, crawling down the side of his inner thigh. Fucks sakes, don't look at her. Think of shovelling horseshit.

"You're damn right," she replied. He's suddenly started acting different. What's he up to?

Here, however, her thoughts were interrupted. From the gatehouse came two short horn sounds. This, she knew, was the signal that Paula was approaching the gate. Damn that woman.

Aerin did not know what the signal meant, and didn't care. His cock expanded triumphantly and detached itself from his thigh, pressing against the fabric of his rags, and apparently intrigued by the rough sensation on its many nerve endings, it went on and pressed harder, and harder...

Gabrielle spoke, annoyed. "Alright, I can see that you won't be of any use to me. Goodbye, then."

"Yeah," he said quickly, shifting on his legs, "was a pleasure meeting you. Bye!"

He seemed to avoid meeting her eyes. He half-turned himself away.

She noticed.

Clearly outlined, pressing against the front of his pants, size and girth just perfect to stuff your mouth with. She stood motionless for a moment, though her heart beat hard and her tongue found itself suddenly sinking in drool. Touch it, something in her head insisted. Pull off his trousers, see it, touch it!

Paula would enter the castle any minute now, and once she does, sneaking out of the dungeon unnoticed will be very difficult. In this moment, Gabrielle hated her ladyship more than ever before.

Very suddenly, she moved right next to the boy and looked him in the face. "I'd like to chat some more, Aerin, but that horn means I gotta go. See, I can't stay here with you when there's so much horniness." She reached out and ruffled his hair, smiled brightly, and in the next instant she was gone.

Dodo soon came down and repeated in reverse the complicated procedure with manacles, somewhat puzzled why was his prisoner intent on either turning his back on him or assuming a crouching position. Maybe he's getting crazy, Dodo thought. Dodo had heard that it happens to some people.

When Aerin was finally left alone, he dropped on his straw bedding and rescued his penis from the chafing jute trousers. Free at last, it throbbed enthusiastically, pointing to the ceiling. He tried it between two fingers. It was as rock-solid as the surrounding dungeon.

He closed his eyes and blushed violently. She had noticed for sure. There was no way that this wasn't an intentional pun that she had left him with. Aerin, you mug.

He recalled her eyes, her body, and the sensation of her hand in his hair. His cock swayed to his heartbeat. He looked at it judgementally and poked its head with his index finger.

"Don't you dare fall for the creepy princess," he instructed. "Don't even think about it."