The Old Man & The Queen Ch. 02

Harry turned back to her, this time a frown covering his normally jovial face, "Well, have it yer way, BUT you can sure as shit bet that if you ain't gonna act like my wife under my own roof, I'm not gonna act like your husband outside of it. Royal decree or not," he said, leaving his comments open to interpretation.

"I wouldn't expect you too," the curvy Queen responded, almost laughing inwardly at the thought of her wanting him to 'act' like her husband in public, "I know how to handle myself."

Old Jones simply shrugged his shoulders at that, "Fair enough, but don't go sayin' I didn't warn you and don't come crying to me and make a fuss if ya get into trouble," he said, somewhat ominously. Before she could respond he added, "See to it the guards put yer stuff where you like, I'm going to have a little chat with your friend Walter," as he left her standing in the house, clearly perturbed as he sauntered off to talk to Walt. 'Well at least he knows where I stand and that I'm off the market,' Elena thought as she began looking through the house to help the guards position her things.

Outside, Harry Jones walked over to Walter, making sure they were out of earshot as he crossed his arms, his posture visible from the house, although his genuine grin wasn't, "Hell of a job Walter m'boy. Holy Mackerel if she ain't the randiest little tart this side of the Great Sea then I don't know who is! Never seen bigger tits with wider hips in my whole damn life," he said, shaking his head and marveling at Elena's beauty as he let out a long whistle.

"You have at least three weeks, hopefully a month or more though," Walter said, not looking amused as he remained business-like in his tone, "Think that's enough time? She's not gonna be easy Harry," he said, looking down the road and anxious to get the carriage back to the castle and out of sight.

"Obviously a month would be better to guarantee it, so do what ya can," Harry responded, his grin turning slightly more serious before it flashed back again, "Don'tcha worry, ol' Jones has it taken care of ... and can't say I won't be enjoying every last second of it," he chuckled, the features of his face slightly distorted from his laugh.

"Nice job on the docks by the way, a little overkill though. Was that you personally or did you have hired help?" Walt asked, referring to the fire at the port a few months ago.

"Shit I told them dimwitted chaps to go easy on the bloody torches. Damn near got two of 'em killed in the process. Got the job done though," Harry explained, "we tossed in a charred dead rat through the Harbormaster's window for good measure."

"I'll say. Erik and his Uncle bought the entire thing. They're practically paranoid of Rats these days. Anyway, I'll send word after the Feast of Eden Festival and let you know if you need to be on the look-out. We best be heading back while there's plenty of daylight left," he said, reaching out his hand. Harry looked at it for a second, then gave Walt a wink and pointed his finger at him for dramatic effect as he turned on his heel, Walt giving him an odd glance in return and then finally calling the guards to turn back to the castle.

Elena watched the display with piqued interest, trying to read the body language of the two older men as she hid out of sight behind the nearest window curtains of the front room of the house. She needed to see for herself just what sort of men she was involved with and whom, if anyone, was credible. She wasn't nearly as trusting as her husband and, although it was a low bar, was certainly more observant. The Queen smiled slightly to herself as Harry turned on his heel, not shaking Walter's hand and stormed towards the house. She was pleased to see that he was equally as distraught with Walt's misinformation and manipulation, and part of her couldn't blame the old trader for not wanting to 'protect' her given that he wasn't getting anything at all out of this deal. Relieved that the two men weren't in cahoots together, she turned around and pretended to be surveying her contents when he came back into the house.

"They're about to take off," he said without the typical bounce to his step, looking frustrated, "I'mma head into town for a few hours and grab an ale or five. You can ... sit around here and get comfortable Your Highness," he emphasized her title as if indicating he wasn't happy with the whole situation.

"No, I'll go with you," Elena quickly responded, holding her head and chin up a bit defiantly.

Harry Jones raised his thick, hairy grey eyebrows as he paused, seemingly to think it over. Finally he shrugged his rounded shoulders and said, "Suit yerself, just remember it was you who didn't want to be my husband," he said, the comment once more hanging in the air suspiciously. 


"I know I know, don't worry Harry. As the King can attest, I'm quite the handful," she said with an elegant chuckle, "I'll be fine and I'm actually looking forward to seeing the village."

Harry gave a casual snort, "As ya wish, we'll leave in half an hour," he said, walking over to the antique room to grab an old, generic engagement ring and put it into his pocket.

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The twenty-five minute walk to the village seemed to do both the Queen and the old man some good, having been united by their mutual annoyance at Walter who had left with the guards after bidding Elena adieu. Her mood appeared to perk up a bit without the presence of her husband's stern advisor and his leering guards. The voluptuous twenty-three year old actually found herself laughing for the first time since the day she left the castle, allowing herself to smile and shake her head at Harry Jones' sharp wit and his way of phrasing things. The elderly trader certainly toed the line of inappropriateness, but he could get away with it due to his comical facial expressions combined with his old age.

As they ventured into town Elena began to notice the villagers walking around the street and going about their daily routines. To her untrained eye they seemed 'normal' enough; from the couple that was walking hand in hand, to an old woman selling odd-looking beads, to the three farmer men behind them who were had been walking in the same direction towards the tavern. However, upon glancing over again she noticed that with the couple, the man had his hand directly on his partner's ass, squeezing it as they strolled the streets. Elena raised her eyebrow, but said nothing. Harry led her up to the building, as the chubby old man pointed to the sign, 'Pourin' Pete's' as he said, "Pete's a good guy, owned the tavern for years," as he pushed the double-doors open and waved to the bartender.

"Peter m'boy! What's a fella gotta do to get a drink around here? Make it two of my favorite" he said with that characteristic grin, as he walked up to shake hands with what seemed like an old friend. Harry raised his hand toward Elena and said, "Let me introduce you to E ... to ughh, 'Lina," as he gave the Queen a subtle nod, clearly trying to protect her name from recognition. Elena wasn't sure what the proper protocol was for such an introduction so she merely gave a subtle curtsy and smiled at the mid-40's looking barkeep.

"Charmed. A lovely tavern you have here Peter," was all she could think to say as Harry chimed in and put his arm around her, his chubby fingers resting for a moment on her opposite shoulder as the tavern-keeper eyed her incredible hourglass frame.

"Yep, picked 'er up wayyyyy down south near Sword Point," he remarked, naming the town on the edge of a peninsula that was shaped remarkably similar to a sword. It was in the Kingdom of Dynesus, the southern most of the Six Kingdoms and a place he knew very few people would ever set eyes on in the course of their lives. Elena, knowing this information as well, breathed a sigh of relief, for it was a well-chosen place that would help protect her identity.

"Sword Point you say? In Dynesus? Hell if I've ever met someone from down there, let alone who's visited," the tavern owner said, and then gave a wink, "Well your money's good here at Pete's just as it is there, and if everyone in Dynesus looks like you Ma'am, well, I may have to move my business!" Pete laughed at his own joke, and although his livelihood was helped by paying his customers compliments, Elena appreciated it nonetheless, even if his eyes never left her tits.

"Me and Pete are gonna talk a little wares and trade now sweetie," Harry informed her as Pete poured two tall mugs of ale for them. "You go on over to the side room and I'll be back in a bit to join ya," he said, pointing to the extended room off of the far corner of the bar that Pete had added earlier in the year. Elena nodded and grabbed her ale. She wasn't much of a beer drinker at all, preferring wine, but she didn't want to be rude. She walked down the length of the bar, her ass swaying naturally with each step, as the three men behind them on the main road entered the tavern and ordered drinks as well. The Queen looked around as she stepped into the side room that had just a few tables and chairs, setting her mug on one of them as she sat down, crossing one leg over the other under her dress and looking around the room at some of the unique art and odds and ends that decorated it.

Elena vaguely overheard the chatter at the bar between Pete and the three other men, but didn't pay them much attention. That was, of course, until a whistle brought her out of her distracted perusing of the walls.

"Whoooo-eeeee. Now this ain't something you see every day in Edge Landing, is it Jenkins?" one of the more muscular farmers said as he entered the room, his boots clacking menacingly on the wooden floor panels. Elena almost turned her head around but instead she told herself it would be best to ignore them and continued to pretend that she was looking at the artwork on the far wall.

"I reckon not Leon. Certainly one without a ring on her finger," the tallest, lanky farmer noted, pointing to Elena's barren left hand. The Queen inwardly cursed herself for at least not pretending to be married in that moment by wearing a fake wedding ring. She had taken off the massive rock Erik had given her and left it under the protection of the castle - knowing it would be impossible not to draw attention if she had kept it on.

"How 'bout you, Josh?" the man named 'Leon' asked the last farmer, a shorter man of average build who didn't respond but just shook his head, a pair of glasses resting on his long nose that made his eyes look even larger as he stared at the side profile of Elena sitting at the table, his gaze fixated on her large bust.

"Well it's unanimous then Missy, you's out of place in this here neck o' the woods," Leon continued, grinning evilly as he pulled up a chair and flipped it around backwards right next to Elena and straddled it, leaning over the back of the chair with crossed arms as he sat down. "Problem is, it ain't nice to be stealing things when you're new in town. 'Specially not from One-Eyed Albert at Water's Edge Inn." Elena looked aghast as she finally turned to address the muscular farmer who appeared to be the leader of the three person pack.

"I'm quite sorry Sir but you must be mistaken, I just got into town just a few hours ago and this is the only establishment I've visited. I'm sure you just have the wrong person," she explained truthfully.

"Sadly, I'm 'fraid not ma'am. I can prove it was you. And I can prove you was there. What kind of a hussy steals pillows from a nearly blind man though?" he asked, raising his eyebrow as the two other farmers gave a couple snickers as they stood on either side of Elena. The Queen, meanwhile, remained perplexed. 


"I'm sorry .. pillows? I swear I haven't even been to the Inn!" she said, her heartbeat racing a little faster now, uncomfortable with how the men were surrounding her.

"S'right Missy. Couldn't be more obvious. Two pillows stuffed right into your dress! What a crooked little scheme," Leon continued, his friends chuckling at the joke. "Ain't no way them 'baps' of yours are real," he said, reaching out a hand slapping it lightly on her chest overtop of the dress. Jenkins howled in laughter. Elena's eyes went wide, her light green iris's seeming to expand around dilated dark black pupils. 


"Why .. why you heathen!" she said, "How dare you touch me like that!" though her voice didn't carry the accusation with as much confidence as she would have liked. "Harry! Please come here," she called out to the old man, needing him to interject before it got any further out of hand.

"You ain't alone?" the man named 'Jenkins' asked, "Is she with that Jones fella, boss?" he added, looking over at Leon.

"Well it sure seems like it, ya nitwit," Leon spat back, "We only just followed them in here a few minutes ago," he rolled his eyes before turning back to Elena. "What's a top-heavy tart like you doin' with the old man anyway? You another one of his whores?"

"What .. what's your rates ma'am?" the short, nervous farmer named Josh finally said, speaking up.

"I'm not a prostitute!" Elena exclaimed, putting a hand over her chest, offended by the allegation.

"The hell you ain't! We knows Harry's whorin' reputation," Leon scoffed. "Besides, no big-titted broad who ain't married and looks like you would ever be in this town they wasn't turnin' tricks in."

"I .. I swear it!" Elena said, her forehead becoming hot as she felt herself begin to perspire, not at all liking the feeling of losing control. "Ask Harry. We met and we, uhmm, I wanted to travel with him and see places and Kingdoms I haven't yet," she said, swallowing as she brushed her wavy black hair over her shoulder in a sort of nervous-tic type movement. The Queen realized that she had no back-up plan story if she wasn't going to be using the 'married' alibi. She knew how ridiculous it must sound that a single woman would voluntarily travel with an older man, and how out of place it would appear for traditional village life, but she couldn't come up with anything better on the spot.

"That don't add up Boss," Jenkins said as if discovering a hidden clue.

"No shit it don't add up Jenkins," Leon replied, "You fuckin' go to yer Auntie's dummy school to figure that out?" he added, giving his friend a personal zing for his family's faltering business. "So here's what we're going to do, Pillow Thief," Leon said, raising his upper lip towards his nose like a dog before an attack, "Yer gonna yank that cute little dress down and show us all that you ain't a thief .. and that somehow those are real flesh and blood breasts under that dress. OR ... we're gonna have to strip search you ourselves," he said, "but don't you worry yer pretty little head, we pretty good at strip searchin' and finding ... things on a person," he said, Josh rubbing his hands together excitedly, "Your choice Missy."

Elena felt like she could crawl into a hole right then and die, the archaic world of the outskirts of her Kingdom becoming all too real in that moment, caught in a vivid nightmare. She knew she had to do something to get out of this situation, and in a panic stood up quickly and screamed, "HARRY! These men are accosting me!"

"This wench definitely ain't from around here. Listen to that prissy little accent," Leon said, looking up at her, "You go on, call your 'travel partner' he said, pinching her on her large ass as he slowly stood. "We know yer his whore you fat ass slut," he snarled, "Is the ol' man's nickname really accurate honey? Is 'Tomato Sack Harry' just as big in the flesh?"

"Tomato sack? How many ales have you had?" she said in obvious frustration and fearful anger as she spat back at being called a 'fat ass slut," her skin crawling and blood flowing with tension-mounting adrenaline. Despite her fear she longed for the ability to call a Royal Palace guard to put a stop to their licentious remarks.

"Yeah, they say his nuts are as big as tomatoes in that wrinkly sack of his. Does he make ya suck on them too?" Jenkins asked with a lewd grin. Elena scrunched up her nose at that mental image and figured they were just vulgarly teasing her on purpose. Just then Harry Jones walked into the room, as casual as could be, leaning against the doorframe as he casually sipped what looked to be his second mug of ale.

"Well Jiminy Cricket, ain't you a popular one today Lina," he smiled over to the Queen. "Fellas, good to see ya again and hope the harvest is as plentiful as Lina's chest," he said with a chuckle, keenly aware of the debate. "I got a hunch that there seems to be a problem back here. How can ol' Harry help?" Elena looked at him incredulously. 'Is he mocking me on purpose to take the side of the farmers?' she wondered. She squinted her eyes for a second, perturbed, and turned her head diagonally before proceeding to explain.

"They ... they accused me of stealing pillows for goodness sake! How ridiculous. Then they want me to ... to reveal my chest to prove I'm ... real. Finally they threatened to strip search me," she said, highly embarrassed by the situation and losing her typically assertive tone as the pressure of the situation mounted.

"Ahh I see, well if that isn't quite the pickle!" Harry laughed, "Seems you boys want first-hand evidence, eh?" he asked, addressing them before glancing back at Elena, "Can't say I blame them though - ya are a little top-heavy honey," he smirked, an odd sort of darker grin flashing over his face for a second, "Tis a cryin' shame you don't have a husband who could defend your honor fer ya!" he finished with a twinkle in his eye.

Elena felt her jaw drop, her full luscious lips parted at what the old man was implying and perhaps even suggesting in the moment. Had it really come to this? Was he really using this twisted opportunity to prove his point? "You ... you're not going to let them, are you?" she asked, time slowing down as she cautiously awaited his answer, and hating that her sexual fate was in the hands of some strange older man she had just met a few hours ago. That a royal journey of a noble Queen was being pre-determined by a lecherous commoner.

"That ... my dear, just so happens to be out of my hands," he grinned, clearly enjoying the schadenfreude of the moment and the Queen's precarious situation, "... and is entirely up to you." Elena knew that she would either have to proclaim herself his husband, or suffer the scary proposition of being left in the clutches of the perverted farmers.

"Sounds like Old Harry ain't gonna protect you Missy," Jenkins said, taking a step closer to the buxom brunette, and quick as a flash Leon withdraw a shiny dagger he had kept hidden and sheathed into his back trousers. The sharp tip was suddenly pressed to the lower neckline of Elena's dress, obviously ready to cut the fabric with a flick of the wrist from it's owner. The Queen's eyes went wide in fearful shock, her breath abandoning her in the intense moment.

"It's time we got ourselves a look at what all you be hiding under this here dress of yours. Don't you worry though, we won't hurt you ... well ... not as long as you can take some big cocks in ya!" Leon said with a lust-filled snarl, raising his elbow and turning the blade, a few seconds away from slitting the dress.

"WAIT! DON'T ... he's ... he's my husband!" Elena cried out in desperation, seeing no other way out of the perilous situation. The voluptuous Queen squirmed in place and felt a defeated mentality creep over her, yet decided nothing could be worse than being forced to submit to three nefarious farmers who apparently would stop at nothing until they claimed every inch of her body. "I ... I swear it," she said, lip quivering as she publicly gave testimony that she was old man Harry Jones' wife.

"Bullshit," Josh finally spoke up again, not believing it as he looked over to Harry for confirmation. The elderly trader with his characteristic gut had a sort of smug, clairvoyant look on his face, the master chess player seeing three and four moves ahead of time.