Page 18 of An Arrow to the Heart

As much as he'd prefer the alternative he knew he wouldn’t be able to be in the same space as her if he didn’t address his current state. The past few weeks had been Hel in that regard. He took hold of his length and pumped thinking of the taste of her. What it would feel like to feel the wetness of her on his tongue and of all the little noises she might make. He didn’t last long and the fire for her burned only brighter. But at least he was no longer erect.

After a few minutes he got used to the water’s temperature, and as he swam with the morning sun beaming down on him, he felt better than he had in a long time.

HONK HONK

Oh fuck, where did that come from? Ardál swore to himself as he tried to shoo away the grey feathered creature, it didn’t listen, instead it started snapping at him.

Snapping.

He thought he’d make himself useful by feeding the animals and cleaning out the goat stalls and henhouse after he arrived back from his swim in the lake. The dirtier the better to keep his mind from all the dirty things he wanted to do to Sylvie and since he’d gotten all that finished he went to scatter the chicken feed in hopes of showing them it was safe to return to the coop. But instead of chickens he managed to attract this waddling nightmare, its glare a promise of menace.

Its weirdly large yellow beak began snapping at his trousers, and when he tried to push it away it went for his shirt. Little else to do Ardál decided he’d just walk away and give the creature what it wanted, the rest of the chicken feed. But as he walked away the stupid goose actually followed him instead.

For fucks sake, he huffed, “go away you stupid bird,” he said waving his hands frantically in an attempt to get the goose to leave him alone.

Before he had the opportunity to realise his foolish actions the goose snapped at his hand, gripping it tight in its beak.

He yanked his hand away and the goose hissed at him in response, flapping at him, showing off its large wingspan and leaped to bite him in the backside.

Oh my fucking Gods.

Ardál’s eyes widened in horror and he did the only thing he could think to do.

Run.

Except that with his injured knee and crutch the best he managed was half-shuffle hobble. He ran as fast his body would carry him, past the animal shelters, around the side of the pond and into the back gardens. When he finally dared to look back he was relieved to find the animal had relented in its chase around halfway into the garden.

He was panting hard by the time he reached the back of the cottage, and he supported himself against one of the arches, his pulse racing as he tried to catch his breath when he heard the most glorious sound in the world.

“That was quite impressive, I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a panicked run before, if you could even call that a run,” Sylvie said, approaching him, giggles tumbling from her lips, Fermack bouncing at her heels with excitement.

She had clearly seen the events unfold through the kitchen window, where she had busied herself making jams. Ardál squeezed his eyes shut at the mortification.

“It just kept attacking me, the stupid thing wouldn’t leave me alone,” he cried between pants. Perhaps next time, he should bring the little beast with him, he was sure that would keep the damn goose away.

“You got too close to her nest,” Sylvie said between laughs.

“It’s not nesting season!” he cried a little more hysterically than he intended.

Sylvie simply shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t make the rules,” she said, still laughing. It’s not like he could blame her for laughing, he could just picture it now, his stupid ass trying and failing to run away from an angry goose. Hels, this was probably the most ridiculous situation he’d ever found himself in but he sure enjoyed the sound of her laughter. Pure joyous real laughter and if that was his reward he’d happily accept being chased by a stupid goose. In fact, he’d happily make it part of his daily routine, just to hear the sound of her.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

-Sylvie-

The Autumn Equinox Fair and Festival proved to be the perfect excuse to occupy Sylvie’s mind. Strips of multi-coloured cloth were stretched across the streets, fluttering lazily in the mountain breeze. The light golden glow of the morning sun kissed the cobbled streets beneath her boots, a sure promise of a good day’s worth of trading.

Despite the early hour, the centre of the village square was already awash with merchants and vendors, the rustling and clattering of stalls being set upright and the unfolding of fabrics ringing in her ears. They all hurriedly set up their stalls, selling all sorts from books to flowers to assortments of cheeses with the anticipation of the day to come, a day of trading, celebration and shared experiences.

The centre of it was occupied by none other than the Alehouse’s outdoor bar as it had been every year since the three of them had conjured up the brilliant idea. Beside it a small stage, for the bards. The festival had been growing substantially over the last few years, drawing more and more visitors to the village.

“Just over here will do,” Sylvie said to August, who was helping her set up her stall. The boy was dressed with more effort than he usually made. His short nutmeg brown hair tied back neatly and he wore his best linens. He was growing to be a handsome young man. Despite him now being seventeen, Sylvie still saw him as the young boy he was when he first asked to be her apprentice of sorts, at the age of eleven and despite him not being hers she smiled at him with the pride of a mother.

The fair had always been a great opportunity to earn some extra coin for the coming winter but more importantly the fair brought lots of visitors and eager traders to the village. A great number of whom were open to trading ingredients and naturally Sylvie was always in the market for ingredients, the rarer the better.

The festival promised to be a great success this year, the Alehouse’s rooms were all filled to the brim with guests and a few travelling caravans had also camped up in the nearby fields.

“You all set up already?” Sylvie said to Valeska who’d come over from the Old Oaks temporary outdoor bar.