Forged Hearts

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Disclaimer:

All characters in this story are 18+.

This story is a bit of an experiment for me, it's a medieval fantasy story, containing romance, drama and of course sex ;-)

I hope you enjoy. If you do, then I might write more. Either way, let me know what you think.

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Edward raised his hand into the air, the rhythmic clang of his hammer resonating in the forge. The intense heat from the roaring furnace caused beads of sweat to cascade down his face as he skilfully shaped the heated metal on the anvil.

He had been his father's apprentice for two whole years now and spent his days learning the craft and honing his skill.

He had just turned 18, now a man by all accounts. As he shaped the metal, the metal shaped him.

He possessed a robust physique, with broad shoulders, his arms thickened and his chest was a solid expanse of sinew and muscle.

His features handsome and chiseled, were complemented by a head of tousled brown hair that fell slightly into his focused eyes, capturing the attention of many a girl in the village.

There was however, only one girl's attention he courted and that was Annabelle, the bakers' daughter.

During his breaks, he would sit on the old stone wall outside the forge. Patiently waiting for her to do her rounds, delivering bread to her fathers' customers. Edward never said anything to her, he was too shy, he just watched as she walked by and smiled.

Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders in lustrous waves and her green eyes sparkled like emeralds. To Edward she was a beauty to behold.

Desperately wanting to say something to her, but only managing that smile. On the days she glanced in his direction, she would return his smile with her own and his heart would beat just that little bit faster.

In an effort to see her more, he took to spending what little money he earned, and spent it on bread, just so that she would come by.

Today was that day. Edward loitered by the old forge doors hoping to see her. She had just come into view, her hair softly blowing in the wind, with a smile brighter than a million candles.

Edward stepped outside to meet her.

"Oh hello, I've got your order," she said, her voice pleasant and soft.

Edward smiled, and took the bread from her hands.

"You must like my father's bread, this is the third time in a week I've been here," she said laughing.

Edward smiled again.

"You don't say much do you," She said jokingly and gave Edward a sweet smile.

"Well, anyway my name is Annabelle. You take care now."

With that Annabelle turned to leave and continue her rounds.

"Edward!" he shouted.

Annabelle turned around to face him.

"My, my name is Edward."

"Well it's very nice to meet you Edward," Annabelle replied, twirling a length of hair around her finger.

"I'll see you around."

She gave Edward a little wave and proceeded on her way down the old cobbled street.

Truth be told, Edward didn't care much for the bread. He would tear it open and feed the birds behind the forge. He was just happy with the fact he had seen her again.

Two days had passed since her last visit, and once again Edward sat on the old stone wall outside the forge, when Annabelle walked past, there was no scheduled bread delivery today, but she waved hello to Edward, which made his day.

In that moment though, she didn't see what was in front of her and walked straight in to two young men walking in the opposite direction. The woven basket of bread she carried on her back, slipped off and the contents emptied onto the floor.

"Watch it you stupid little..." One of the men shouted.

"I'm so sorry, please forgive me," Annabelle could be heard saying.

The man who she bumped into wore a finely tailored outfit, from his richly embroidered velvet doublet, adorned with a family crest, to his tailored trousers and polished leather boots. He glanced up and saw how pretty his clumsy assailant was.

"Oh, I'll forgive you, for a kiss. Come here!"

The man groped at her and tried to kiss her.

Annabelle pushed him away.

"Get off me!" She cried out.

The man's face bore an air of entitlement, his sharp features and piercing cold eyes exuded arrogance.

"Look at this Sam?" he said to the second man.

"She's a fighter, I love it when they play hard to get. Come here!"

Edward, who was watching this unfold, couldn't stand by any longer, he strode across the road and grabbed the man by his fancy lapels and pushed him off her.

"Get your hands off her!" Edward shouted.

The man fell backwards to the ground, landing bottom first in a dirty puddle. His finery soiled by the dirt.

He looked up and yelled at Edward.

"Who do you think you are. Do you know who I am? Do you know who my father is?"

Edward didn't care at that point. He leered at the man. The entitled man's friend tried to help him up, but his hand was smacked away.

"Get off me, I can get up myself," he yelled at his companion.

The man pulled himself up and tried to compose himself, wiping the dirt from his trousers.

Edward stepped forward, his imposing figure, making them think twice and the two men skulked off.

"This isn't the end of this, you cretin," The man shouted over his shoulder.

Edward turned to face Annabelle.

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?"

"I'm ok, thank you though, for coming to my aid."

Edward bent down to collect the fallen bread and handed them to her one by one as she put them in the woven basket.

"Thank you Edward," she said and gave him a little peck on his cheek.

Edward's cheeks glowed red, visibly pleased with his reward.

"Well, I better be off then, this bread won't deliver itself."

Annabelle put the woven basket on her back and continued on her way.

Edward stood there for a moment and watched as Annabelle left, before returning to the forge to continue the days work.

The next day, Edward was hard at work with his father, when three men appeared outside. It was the local magistrate, and he was flanked by two guards.

Edward's father downed his tools and approached the magistrate. Edward could hear the two men talking and then looked over to him. He stopped what he was doing and approached.

"Is this true son?" his father asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Is what true father?"

"Did you assault his lordships son?"

Edward paused for a moment, and then the words came flooding back to him.

"Do you know who my father is?"

He thought nothing of it at the time, but now it started to make sense.

"He was harassing Annabelle, but I only shoved him."

"So, you admit it," The magistrate interjected.

"Yes, but he..."

"Take him," The magistrate said to the two guards.

"But...I didn't do anything wrong," Edward protested.

"What's going to happen to him?" Edward's father pleaded.

"He will be taken to the village square, where he will be publicly lashed for his crime."

Edward looked at his father, his eyes filled with anguish.

"Come!" The magistrate shouted and turned to leave. The two guards grabbed Edward by his thick arms and escorted him out.

As they made their way down the road to the village square, Edward's father followed them. Onlookers stared and whispered as they went past.

The square bustled with activity during this time of day, marked by the vibrant energy of market day. Stalls adorned the area, showcasing a variety of wares for eager traders to sell.

"Clear the way, clear the way!" The magistrate bellowed as they made their way to the centre.

In front of them stood a substantial wooden platform, topped with a towering post reaching about seven feet in height. Adjacent to it, a set of small steps provided access to the platform.

The magistrate ascended the steps, leading the way, while Edward and the two guards followed suit. Once on the platform, they directed him towards the post, where his hands were bound to a sturdy metal loop. Edward stood with his face pressed against the post, secured in place.

The magistrate, who was now behind him began to speak.

"Hear ye!, hear ye! In light of the crime committed against the honourable Quentin Villier, his lordship's son, we declare Edward, son of Thomas the Blacksmith, guilty. As a consequence, he shall endure the punishment of ten lashes."

The crowd shifted its focus away from the traders' stalls, directing all their attention toward the wooden platform at the centre of the square.

The magistrate nodded to one of the guards, who then pulled out a dagger and proceeded to cut the shirt off Edwards back.

The second guard then walked to the opposite end of the platform, and removed a large, coiled whip, from a bag attached to his belt.

Edward, whose shirt was in two on the floor, braced himself for what was coming.

An eerie silence enveloped the square as the crowd hushed. The sound of footsteps echoed as they approached the steps, accompanied by soft whispering. Edward strained to see who it was until they stepped into his field of view. It was his lordship's son, Quentin.

Edward immediately tensed up with anger.

Quentin leaned forward to whisper in Edwards ear.

"This will teach you not to mess with me."

Edwards fists clenched tighter.

"Oh, and by the way, when I see that little friend of yours again. I want you to know, that I'm going to fuck her. I'm going to fuck her over and over again. I will fuck her until she bleeds and when I'm done with her, well I'll let you use your imagination."

Quentin gave Edward a sick little smile.

"Don't you touch her, don't you dare touch her," Edward growled at him, his hands shaking with rage.

Quentin turned and walked away.

"Proceed," he said to the magistrate as he passed him and left the platform, disappearing into the crowd.

The magistrate nodded at the guard, who unfurled the whip and let the end drop to the floor.

The whip sliced through the air with a resounding crack, meeting Edward's back. He clenched his jaw, stifling the instinct to cry out in pain.

Edward's gaze shifted to the crowd before him; his father, the closest, wore a sympathetic expression mirroring the anguish he was feeling. As the second lash descended, Edward's eyes sought the onlookers. Among them, at the back, Annabelle stood, her face twisted in horror.

His eye's fixated on her as the third lash came. Tears streaming down her face, she mouthed the words "I'm sorry."

Edward didn't enjoy seeing her upset.

The fourth lash came down, then the fifth, with Annabelle flinching after each hit.

By the time the last lash came, his back was a bloody mess, and he was slumped forward against the pole.

"Let this be a lesson to you all," The magistrate declared.

He turned to the guard.

"Cut him down."

The guard nodded and approached Edward, using his dagger once more to cut the rope from Edwards' hands.

His father rushed onto the platform to console his son. Wrapping his arm around his his shoulder and helping him off the platform.

Edward looked behind him, hoping to get one more look of Annabelle, but she had gone, and the crowd slowly dispersed and returned to what they were doing.

Together they made their way back home, and his father put him to bed. A task he hadn't performed since Edward was a little boy.

Edward laid there on his stomach, his back on fire. The tears beginning to fall from his eyes. His father held his hand tightly.

"It's ok son, it's ok," he tried to say reassuringly, his own eyes starting to well up.

There was a knock at the door, and Edward's father left to see who it was. Moments later a bleary figure appeared at the entrance of his room. Edward wiped away the tears from his eyes, to see it was Annabelle. She had brought a bucket of clean water and some cloth.

"Your father said it was ok to come in."

Annabelle lowered the bucket to the floor and rushed over to him, kneeling beside him and clutching his hand.

"Oh Edward, I'm so sorry," she said beginning to cry.

"This is all my fault. I should have just let him..."

"No," he groaned.

"This is not your fault," Edward said insistently, then wincing from the pain.

"Here, let me tend to your wounds, it's the least I can do."

Annabelle grabbed the bucket of water, and dipped the cloth into it, then gently dabbed away the blood from Edwards back.

His whole body tensed up as the searing pain overwhelmed him and he gritted his teeth to cope.

Annabelle continued, and Edward did his best to endure it. When she finished cleaning his wounds, she slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a small metallic tin.

"I got this balm from the apothecary, it should help heal your wounds."

She twisted off the cap, and dipped two of her fingers in before rubbing the contents between palms of her hands.

Starting with Edwards shoulders, she rubbed the balm on him. Her silky soft hands gently working the balm into his skin. Edward was torn between the pain and the joy of Annabelle's touch.

When she was done, Annabelle wiped her hands on the cloth.

"Thank you," Edward said trying to lift his head off the bed.

Annabelle quickly stopped him, cupping the side of face and lowering it back down.

"Please rest," she said her voice soft and compassionate.

Edward clutched the hand that held his face.

"Annabelle, please be careful. Quentin said he'd be looking for you."

She lifted her hand from his face and clasped both her hands around his and kissed it.

"I will be careful, and thank you Edward, now rest."

She stood up, grabbing the bucket and cloths.

"I'll come see you tomorrow, if that's ok?"

Edward smiled and nodded, then Annabelle left him to rest.

The following day, and every day after that she returned until Edward's back had completely healed. Each day as she massaged the balm onto his back, they would talk, and their friendship soon blossomed.

Edward adored her, and looked forward to her every visit. When he fully recovered, he was back in the forge with his father and when the work was done, he set about making something special for Annabelle as a thank you.

Sitting on the old stone wall, Edward waited for her regular visit.

"Hi Edward, are you free?" She asked.

"Sure, I've just finished for the day."

"Would you walk with me, I have something to show you."

The pair set off, walking past all the old houses of the village before reaching the outskirts.

"Annabelle, where are we going?" Edward asked inquisitively.

"You'll see," She replied with a smile.

With a smile like that Edward would have followed her to the ends of the earth.

"Come on," and she reached out her hand.

Edward held her hand and they walked through the forest, that bordered the village.

Annabelle's hand felt so soft and such a contrast to the calloused hands of his.

After a steep incline, they reached their destination. There was a clearance in the trees, and they found themselves overlooking the valley, the view was breathtaking.

"This is my favourite spot," she said still holding Edward's hand.

"And I wanted to share it with someone special to me." She continued.

Edward looked at her as she stared out at the vista before her, thinking she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and not the view before them.

A light gust of wind, rustled through the trees and leaves began to fall. She stared up to the sky.

"My mother used to bring me up here when I was small. We used to dance when the leaves fell. Edward will you dance with me?"

"I'm not much of dancer," he said embarrassed.

"It's ok, I'll show you."

With that, she turned to face Edward. She placed his hand on her hip and she clasped his hand in hers. Edward held her body close to his. She lead Edward, and he followed her every move, never once removing his gaze from hers.

Annabelle extended her arm and twirled graciously, her every movement enchanting Edward.

She laughed with a childish delight, a sound that Edward thought was musical.

"See Edward, you're a natural."

Edward smiled from the compliment, his heart racing, he knew he wanted to be with her, to protect her and to make her happy.

As she reversed the twirl, returning to his arms, he surprised her with a kiss and the dancing stopped abruptly. He wrapped his powerful arms around her, and Annabelle squeezed him back, succumbing to his kiss.

The kiss felt like it lasted an eternity.

As their lips parted, Annabelle gave Edward a look, a look that Edward knew that she felt the same way for him as he did for her.

"Annabelle, I..." Edward struggled to the say the words.

"I know Edward, I feel the same way too."

After their embrace, they sat down. Edward with his back to a tree, and Annabelle sitting between his legs, resting against his powerful chest. Edward held her hand, and they watched the sun slowly set.

"Oh, I nearly forgot," Edward said, reaching into his left pocket.

"I made you this."

Edward presented Annabelle with a small dagger.

"It's for protection, in case you know who tries anything."

Annabelle held the dagger in her hands, it felt lighter than she expected.

She turned her head and kissed Edward again.

"Thank you, Edward."

"And if you didn't like the dagger, I also made you this," he reached into his right pocket this time and pulled out a necklace, with a Celtic knot. He dangled it in front of her.

"Oh Edward, it's beautiful. Can you put it on me?"

She grabbed her hair and lifted it exposing her slender neck. Just looking at it, Edward felt compelled to kiss it.

"Stop it, that tickles," she said giggling.

Edward rested the necklace on her chest, before fixing the string at the back.

She held the Celtic knot in her hand and brushed it with her thumb.

"I can't believe you made this for me, I love it, it's so beautiful."

"It pales in comparison to you."

"You are so sweet Edward," she said blushing.

"We should probably get going, it's starting to get dark."

Annabelle stood up first and Edward followed, and they made their way back through the forest. When they reached the forests edge they stopped.

"Can I walk you home?" Edward asked.

"It's ok, I can manage. Besides I have your gift to protect me," she said tapping the dagger in her pocket.

"Well, if you're sure."

"I'll be fine, but thank you for offering. You are true gentleman Edward."

She kissed him on the cheek then proceeded to walk away.

Edward stood there for a moment, watching her walk away, his head awash with adulation for Annabelle.

When Annabelle was no longer visible he turned and started to slowly make his way home.

Annabelle, was still walking along the forests edge, when the forest turned quiet. A sudden feeling of dread over came her and she began to walk faster, every so often looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being followed.

Suddenly a figure emerged from the trees in front of her.

"I hope you didn't forget about me?"

Annabelle stopped and Quentin's face became apparent.

"Stay away from me," she said with her hand hovering over her pocket.

"But I haven't had my kiss yet, also I made a little promise to your friend that I intend to keep."

"I mean it, stay away from me."

Annabelle pulled the dagger from her pocket and waved it in front of Quentin.

"Tut, tut, you hurt my feelings."

"I'll hurt more than your feelings if you don't move."

"My, my, you are a feisty little one, aren't you?"

Quentin lunged forward to grab her, but Annabelle slashed at his hand, cutting him deeply.

He recoiled, clutching his bloodied hand.

"You bitch, you'll pay for that." He screamed.

He tried grabbing her again, except this time he smacked the dagger from her hand and Annabelle dropped it. Seizing the opportunity, he lunged at her again, he grabbed her bodice, ripping it open and exposing her breast.