A Fantasy Story, Part 1

Helloooooo everyone!

First things first: yes, I'm sorry I didn't blog last month. Forgive me? :3

Now that that's out of the way... WRITING! :D I've been doing some, believe it or not. A few weeks ago an idea popped into my head and I started to write. I haven't been working to a plan or even chronologically so the story is currently a story in parts. The plan is to post the first few scenes here and then post the rest of what I have in a few days.

Here's the thing: I can write more, or I can stop with what I've got. I'm going to leave that up to you (in a desperate gambit to get some reader interaction here). So if you read the first 3 scenes and come up with a brilliant idea for what should happen next, let me know! If you read the final scenes that I post in part 2 and come up with a brilliant idea, let me know that too! If you think of a scene that needs to fit somewhere in the middle, I'm happy to write it. Basically, I'm happy to let the story move in different directions after you read my pre-written stuff.

Anyway it's all useless until you actually read something, so without further ado I present the first 3 scenes of Miscellaneous Fantasy Story.

(Comments welcome!!)

♥Nancy♬

I twirled until I was dizzy, drunk from the heat of the fire, the sound of the fiddle and just a touch of apple cider. My skirt was tucked up into my belt to keep it off the ground, my feet were dirty and my hair was coming out of its braids. It had been a big day, the last day of the planting festival. We’d finally sowed the last field, with everyone pitching in. We’d been lucky this year, with the weather and with the number of available hands. A few people had come from neighbouring villages, looking for work. And a group of travellers had been passing through and had stopped to help. They say that many hands make light work, and they’re right. A hand grabbed mine and dragged me from the dance, and I found myself standing in the arms of one of the young travellers.

 “You’re drunk, lass,” he said, “I ought to take you home to your father.”

The way he was holding me made it seem unlikely that my father would ever know about this little meeting. I relaxed against his chest. I’d never been this close to a man before and the feel of his muscles was more intoxicating than the cider I had tasted earlier.

We’d spoken in the fields, over lunch and cold cups of water. He’d been to cities I’d heard of and some I hadn’t. He told tales of fantastical creatures and evil warlords and kings with too much power. Figuring out what was true and what wasn’t was I game that I don’t think I won. But this game, by the bonfire in the pale moonlight, this game I thought I might win.

 “I think you’d rather keep me here,” I said, rising up onto my toes. I kissed him on the cheek, quick and light. I felt his hand flex against my back and his arms pull me in a little tighter.

 “You’d be smarter if you didn’t, miss Myrna,” he warned.

I kissed his mouth. It was meant to be quick again but he held me up in his arms and deepened the kiss. He tasted like apples.

I awoke to sun streaming through the cracks in the barn wall. I stretched out, fingers to toes, and sighed into the straw below me.

 “That’s a fine sight to wake up to,” said Darach. His voice was husky. It made me feel squirmy inside and wish it were last night again.

 “Where are all my clothes?” I murmured.

 “You don’t even care, lass,” Darach told me, and wrapped his warm arms around me. I sighed against him and relaxed while he nibbled on my neck.

 “You’re not staying, are you Darach?” I asked, sadly.

 “Not all my stories were stories, Myrna. I’ve a life to get on with, people to find and others who I don’t want to find me.”

 “Aye,” I said, “I thought as much.”

Darach disentangled himself from me. I watched as he dressed, quickly but methodically. We’d been quick last night, with clothes flying everywhere. Slower the second time, when there hadn’t been any clothes to lose. Nevertheless, it was almost more enjoyable watching him dress now, in the streaks of light in the barn. He picked up my shirt. I saw the way he held it, as if it were delicate and made of silk instead of linen. He brushed the straw of it.

 “Up you get, lass,” he said. I did, and took my shirt out of his hands to get dressed. He laced my dress for me and kissed my neck some more.

When we were both dressed and I’d lightly combed my hair with my fingers, we left the barn. It was quiet outside. We held hands outside the barn doors.

 “I’ll head west,” Darach said. His voice was low and quiet. “West all the way through the forest and then north over the mountains, or through the mines if I can afford it. The last place I’m sure I’ll stop is the Leaping Griffin, the tavern in the foothills on the north side of the Sugar Hills.”

 “I’ll remember.”

 “I’m not good for you, Myrna. You shouldn’t come looking for me.”

 “You’re underestimating me, Darach,” I told him, “I’ve no reason to look for you.” I stretched up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “Head west, if you must. Seek me out if you ever pass back this way.”

He swept me up in his arms. For a moment, I felt like a lass in love. Then he placed me gently upon my feet again.

 “I’m a lucky man, Myrna.”

 “Aye, that you are,” I agreed, and farewelled him with a chaste kiss.

“Myrna,” called my da, “a word, lass.”

Tired, with my hands sore from stitching, I rose from my seat and left my half-finished dress behind.

 “Yes, da?”

My da is slow, at everything he does. He tends our animals slowly, he moves slowly and he speaks slowly. This conversation was not about to go quickly.

 “Those men that came into town today,” he said, as slowly as if he’d carefully considered each word, “those men, Myrna, I think you ought to stay away from them.”

 “They can’t touch me, da, with this babe in my belly already,” I said.

 “They’re from afar away, Myrna. You mustn’t trust anyone from so afar away. The other side o’ the forest. The other side o’ the mountains.”

 “I’ll be careful, da.”

 “You’ve got the babe to think about now.”

 “I know, da. Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek and wandered off before he could talk at me further. I collected my half-finished dress on the way past and went into the house to put it away. Out the window, I saw da climb back up his stepladder to continue picking cherries from the wild tree beside the house.

I crept out of the house again, making my footsteps as quiet as I could. My feet were bare and I hitched up my skirt so that I could move faster, and I rushed away from my house and past the neighbour’s house until I was well clear of my da. Panting a little, I slowed to a walk.

 “Myrna,” said the barkeep as I entered the Flaxen Apple tavern, “you’re not in a state t’ be drinking, lass, and not at this time o’ day either.”

 “I heard you had some guests.”

The barkeep nodded towards the back corner of the tavern and I nodded my thanks.

The men were big and burly and overly rowdy for the early afternoon. Fear rose up in my throat.

 “Afternoon, m’lords,” I said, with a curtsy towards them.

 “Lass,” said one, with a nod. The other three just looked at me.

 “If you’ve a moment to spare,” I said, “I’ve just a quick question.”

One man said, “will you make it worth our while, lassie?” He grimaced at me and revealed that he was missing a number of his teeth. I tried my hardest not to recoil.

 “Aye, maybe if you let us each have our turn we’ll entertain your quick question,” said another, leering at me. He had more teeth than the last one.

The one who had greeted me at the start put down his tankard onto the table. “How far along are you, lass?” He gave another nod, clearly towards my belly.

 “Three moons or so, m’lord.”

 “My wife’ll be having our third right about when I get back. What’s your question?”

I smiled prettily at this man, trying to ignore the hungry stares of the three other men.

 “All I want to know is if the name Darach means anything to you? He was heading west through the forest and north over the mountains.”

 “Aye, we’ve met Darach. He’s well on his way to infamy.”

 “You’d be better off with me, lass,” said the one with missing teeth. “I’ll warm your bed hotter than Darach ever could.”

The fourth man, who had stayed quiet thus far, finally spoke. “I last saw Darach a days travel from the Leaping Griffin,” he said, “but you won’t find him there, lass. He’s made some powerful enemies along his way. I heard tell that he pissed off the Treacle King. I met a soldier from the court o’ the Baron o’ Mines and he was looking for Darach at least as wide-eyed as you are. You’ll not find him again if the Baron o’ Mines has him.”

 “Aye, I’ve heard tell o’ this Baron. Not the Treacle King though.”

The friendly man, with the wife, spoke again, “King Gal-Ga, lass, the barbarian king. He rules the lands north of the Sugar Hills and his belly’s so big he moves so slow as treacle.”

 “Aye m’lord, thank you m’lord,” I said, and curtsied again.

 “Lass,” said the helpful man, “be careful which questions you ask and which people you ask ‘em to. You’re lucky today. We’re naught but two drunks, a married tinker and a soldier loyal to Good King Ethere. But imagine, lass, if we hadn’t been.”

The look in his eyes made my own eyes widen in fear.

 “Thank you m’lord,” I said again, and ran from the men, all the way out of the tavern and back home, before my da even noticed I’d been gone.