Theo and the Blacksmith

Hi everyone, my name's Quin and this is my first attempt ever at creative writing. Please let me know what you think and stay tuned for more as this is just a snippet of a larger story I want to tell.

Without further ado I'll let B. take the word; enjoy:

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Dear Theo,

Thank you. Thank you for everything.

I know, writing a letter is a somewhat cheesy thing to do when we live only houses apart; yet I want you, no, I need you to know about these things which I can't put into spoken words. What happened between us the other night was magical and I haven't felt this joyous in ages.

Ever since we moved here I felt empty and was convinced this village would never become our home. I'm certain my daughter felt the same way, despite her not being able to tell me. I could see it in her eyes. The way she greeted me in the morning; the way she handed me my tools when we worked; the way she struck the smouldering iron with her hammer; the way she tucked her head into her blanket at night; she wasn't her true self.

Most people think she doesn't realise when they gossip in front of her since she shouldn't be able to hear them anyway. They're wrong though. She can read their expressions right off their faces; no voices needed. After all a face alone speaks more than a thousand words, right?

Seeing how you treat her when you visit our shop though, truly warms my heart. You see her for what she is and treat her no different than any other person in our village. The way you talk to her without using words; that very connection I thought only I'd ever have with her. Especially after what happened to her mother, it's wonderful to see her opening up to another person other than me. Thank you, Theo, truly! You have enriched both our lives beyond belief; probably without even knowing it.

All this alone would already warrant this very letter, yet there's still the wyvern in the room; that wonderful, precious night. Oh... By the gods, how my face must have looked when you pressed your lips against mine for the first time. Here's hoping you aren't as good at reading faces as my daughter otherwise I must be an open book to you by now and this letter's probably redundant.

From that night on you've been all that's on my mind. I can't wake a single day without seeing your fiery, orange locks in the fields of wheat bathing in morning glow. A gentle breeze running through them like my fingers through your ruffled hair; making me want to reach out and grab hold of them like I did with you.

Even after sundown I see your image again when the twilight swallows up the hills next to my smithy; the bluish red hues reminding me of the color of your skin as it ached before me, only barely lit by the torches and magic runes from your walls. Inviting my hands to run all over it; nails leaving glowing red marks and lips covering them in spit. I still remember the taste of your sweat and crave for it to cover my tongue again.

When I work on weapons and armour for the village, you're not leaving my mind either. Each and every time my hammer hits the iron, creating that unmistakable, piercing sound, it reminds me of the rhythm of our bodies. Feeling your warmth across my skin again, as the furnace radiates its inescapable heat. Glowing red iron turning into an image of your cock. Its hard yet tender features wanting me to touch it; stroke it; suck it. While relentlessly striking it I think about your thrusts; they were just as fierce and unyielding. The bellows blowing their gusts of air into the fire, fuelling it like your warm breath against my ear fuelled my arousal. Feeling your hand pressing firmly against my neck again as I moan in pleasure.

All that blazing heat only diminishing when the iron is immersed in water; drowned in liquid like my lust when you finally came inside me and put me over the edge.

Theo,... I am so glad that I had to deliver your new armour personally that day, otherwise I would have never known what it meant to be truly inspired by a muse. This newfound inspiration led me to experiment with a new form of smithing throughout the last couple of days. I remembered you talking about losing your amulet in the forest the other night, so I thought I'd forge you a spare one. Attached you'll find the product of these rookie attempts. It isn't much but I hope you like it nonetheless; maybe it can even serve as a reminder of how much you have turned our lives around.

Lastly I have to ask but one thing of you. If I have misinterpreted what happened between us the other night as more than just a platonic, sexual act, please promise me this: Keep treating my daughter the way you have since we moved here. I want nothing more than for her to find a friend who makes her feel happy and carefree for a change; and I can't let the feelings of an old and exhausted man like myself get in the way of that.

So even if you see me as nothing more than a confused soul who fell in love with someone way out of his league; if you decide to throw my rookie forgery of jewellery right into the lake after reading this; please, I beg you, keep visiting; for her.

Yours

B.