Courtship ~ Medieval Erotica

by Derendrea

  COURTSHIP

  A MEDIEVAL EROTIC SHORT STORY

  DERENDREA

  This is copyrighted work. Do not replicate or distribute without written permission from the author. Brief quotes may be used for a review or critique.

  Courtship

  © 2013 Derendrea Books

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  I can’t be certain as I stare out of the second story castle window, but this may be one of the most beautiful days of the summer. Golden pollen and lavender petals drift on the breeze. Children play in the fields of barley, while others sit on the edge of the sheep pen, swinging their legs to some chant I’m too far away to hear.

  It seems everyone has found an excuse to bask in the afternoon sun. The other maids beat rugs and cart pails of water from the well. I lean upon the casement and allow the sun to warm my bare skin. It’s rare moments like this that the dull life of a servant fades away, leaving only me.

  A figure appears at the edge of the field, glowing from the light of the low sun and the golden awns of the barley. It is Lord Griffith, leading the oxen in from pasture. His broad form is unmistakable. A heavy breath escapes my chest and I settle on the stone casement to watch him.

  It is strange seeing a lord do labor. Not once in my years of service did I see Lord Frederick help in any undergoings of the village. He was an elderly man for as long as I knew him. He had been strict, but fair, and the village mourned him when he passed.

  We all feared who would be Lord Frederick’s replacement. The king awarded Lord Griffith governance of Littleshire for service during battle. Other than that we knew little of him until he arrived with three horses and two squires near the end of winter.

  His youth and strength breathed life into the village. When I first met him, he wasn’t as handsome as I imagined. Battle and toil had tempered his skin. But his appearance and demeanor evoked immediate respect from the village folk. Before that day, my father had been the tallest man I had ever known. Lord Griffith, however, stood half a head higher and at least two hands wider.

  I watch him lead the oxen toward the castle. He seems strong enough to carry the burdens of all the village, to be our protector as well as our lord.

  Also unlike Frederick, Lord Griffith is not reclusive. He stops at the cobblestone road to speak with yeoman Ronaldson. Two servant boys run up to relieve him of the oxen. The lord turns to the fields, gesturing as he discusses something with the yeoman. Littleshire is a peaceful place, with no need for knights or soldiers, so the lord pays local land owners like Ronaldson to help patrol.

  I have to admit that I am quite fond of our new lord. I imagine us strolling the cobblestone road, discussing the minor happenings of the town. His strength fills me with a sense of ease. He reaches down and grasps my hand...

  My cheeks warm at the thought. I know that I, daughter of the village cobbler, have no chance of being Griffith’s lady. In fact I haven’t spoken a single word to him since he arrived. Our paths have crossed several times, but I couldn’t work up the nerve to raise my gaze from the floor.

  And there’s the rumors. The other servants say that Lord Griffith has already taken ladies into his bed. We whisper this among ourselves, as we do not want to speak ill of him. Last week I saw him with Mistress Anette in the courtyard, and they seemed very comfortable.

  I push the thought from my mind. This is my moment, and I won’t let the flirtatious coquette damper it.

  I admire Griffith and his calm leadership. He farewells the yeoman and stretches toward the sky. It is such a simple gesture, common enough with the workers in the field, but seeing him stretch his limbs, causing his shirt to rise and expose his tone stomach, sets butterflies across my skin.

  I can imagine those strong arms wrapping around me. I can feel his short black hair through my fingers. His muscles are thick as I squeeze them. His blue eyes stare deep into mine, like a cooling breeze against the fire of my skin.

  Oh my G0d! He really is looking at me! Not just my imagination, standing there near the street, his gaze is locked on me. And the look on his face... He knows I was staring at him!

  Heat flushes to my skin and my stomach churns in knots. I want to look away, to hide in the shadows of the hallway, but he’s taken hold of my will and won’t let go.

  He doesn’t seem angry. ‘I caught you’ is written on his tan, robust face. He’s almost smiling. Surely he has to look away now, having toyed with the young servant woman long enough. But he doesn’t. He just keeps staring at me. His eyes... his steel blue eyes....

  I close my eyes and something awakens inside me. Or maybe something falls asleep. But when I open them again, I feel different. His eyes see straight into me, and he doesn’t see a servant girl. He sees a woman.

  I’m not afraid any more. My trembling calms. It seems like ages that our gazes have been locked together, though it’s only been a few moments. And he hasn’t looked away. He seems interested, curious... demanding.

  He is interested in me. And not just as a lord learning his protectorate. This is something stronger. His gaze wanders across my body, appraising me. Before my reason can get in the way, I allow myself to do the same.

  My eyes stroke his smooth but firm cheeks, peppered by a close-cut goatee, his dark, thick brows and his tousled, jet black hair. Then down, to his thick, sinuous neck, to his loose shirt, revealing the start of dark, curly chest hair. His brawny chest and arms almost fill his tunic. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing his working-man forearms. I’m about to examine lower, when something steps in my path.

  I recognize her immediately. Lady Helenis, daughter of the wealthy, land-owning village bailiff. She has worn one of her formal dresses, out of place in the farming sector. It’s obvious she is trying to make an impression on the lord.

  And that she has succeeded. He is completely enraptured by her. He has turned away from the window, away from me, as if I don’t exist.

  Bitterness splinters my core as I have never felt before. I wish to tear the silk and lace off her slender body. She looks beautiful in it, showing just enough skin to peak his interest but not to suggest she’s promiscuous. But most people in the village know better. Helenis throws herself on any powerful, wealthy man who passes through town.

  And now she has her sights on Lord Griffith. Her servant has fixed her hair in perfect, wavy curls. Her dress is satin with a long silk sash, and a feather thin shall drapes over her shoulders.

  They speak, and of what I can only guess. Perhaps making plans to meet in the Lord’s chambers. Or perhaps...

  My muscles begin to relax. Perhaps they are discussing some legitimate concern of the village. I’m being foolish. Lord Griffith isn’t mine. I’ve never even spoken to him, so how can I be jealous that one of the wealthiest women in Littleshire seeks him out?

  I should turn away from the window. I should continue my afternoon task of preparing the rooms and lighting fires before nightfall. But I remain. What I can’t have myself, I can live through the fair lady Helenis, at least for a moment. Indeed she is beautiful, richly dressed, perfect. My full figure, with only a plain white servant’s dress, and my straight brown hair hastily combed from this morning, shows I am dreaming far beyond my stature.

  Griffith bows to her. Unsatisfied with so cordial a parting, Helenis stands on her toes and presses her lips against his unshaven cheek.

  Just one little kiss, and she steals all joy from my heart. The warmth I felt from the sun fades, all joy and beauty of the day dulls into the mundane, daily routine. The lord and the lady pull away from each other, nodding and turning their separate ways.

  Before returning to his work, Lord Griffith stops in the middle of the courtyard, servant boys with livestock an
d farmers with carts passing by him.

  And he looks back up at me.

  Curse myself! I should have walked away. Now he has seen me neglecting my duties a second time. And not just that... he knows I was spying on him. I feel like I will faint with the blood that rushes to my head.

  His dark eyebrows lower, but otherwise I can’t read his face. Is he angry with me? Then he nods to me. This is an entirely different nod than he gave to Helenis. This is slow and deliberate, and tells me “The next time I see you, we will deal with this.”

  Thankfully, he turns away after this brief message is delivered. I fall in the shadows of the hall and lean on the stone wall, gasping. My parents will hear how their grown daughter, just recently having left the house, already had to be reprimanded by the Lord for neglecting her job. Oh no, what if he tells others I was snooping on him?

  I start quickly down the hall, trying to hide from these disturbing thoughts. I just have to stay busy, and stay out of his way, and soon he will forget he ever saw me watching him.

  Hopefully.

  I busy myself straightening the beds in the second story rooms, though they were already fixed this morning. I don’t want to start the fires. It takes too much time to make sure the flame catches on the kindling. I have to keep moving... though it’s foolish of me to imagine I’m running from something.

  I go into the next room, but freeze as soon as I step inside. It is Lord Griffith’s chamber.

  I have been here many times when this room belonged to Lord Frederick, but only twice since Lord Griffith occupied it. It hadn’t felt so strange to enter his room as it does now. It is decorated the same, with shields, weapons, and maroon, rich cloth. But the energy is of a younger man. I start to leave when I hear someone in the hallway.

  My heart races. I don’t know why I feel like I’m trespassing. I step to the middle of the room, trying to find something to make myself look busy. Kindling is already placed by the fireplace. The door to the chamber creaks open, and my skin shivers. I’m so nervous I drop the small chunks of wood as soon as I pick them up.

  “What are you doing in here?” A brisk, deep voice demands from the entrance. I don’t have to look to know who it is. Heat rises to my skin. What did he just ask me? Gripping a small piece of kindling in my shaking hand, I force my body to turn to him in order to explain. But when I see him standing in the doorway, arms crossed and his hip leaning against the door frame, the words leave me.

  The look on his face only confuses me more. His voice sounded angry, but there is amusement on his lip and in his eyes. So he’s toying with the foolish servant woman again...

  “Can you not speak?” His voice is flat and feels like a reprimand.

  “Star...starting a fire my lord.”

  “Oh were you?” He examines me, then the kindling in my hand. “Then where is your flint?”

  I look down, as if I could find some mysteriously in my hand, but I hadn’t brought any in. I try to calm my rapid heart, but I feel my face flush under his scrutiny. Why doesn’t he just yell at me and let me leave?

  “I don’t think you came in here to start a fire.” He pushes himself off the wall. The look on his face is accusing and stern, keeping me where I am.

  “You don’t?” I choke on the words.

  “No.” He reaches back to shut the door. Deliberate, like his final nod to me before I started back to work.

  Oh God, he’s going discipline me for watching him, for neglecting my work. He reaches up and locks the door, and the forceful “thud” makes my heart skip a beat. It takes marked effort for me not to cower from him. I will take my punishment.

  When he turns back to me, there’s something else on his face. He’s locked the door... A warm tingling runs all over my body. I think he might be after something more...

  I’m being foolish again. He’s not interested in me like that, a lowly servant. He has so many elegant women at his disposal he could take a different lady every day of the week. I cast my gaze to the floor as he starts toward me.

  “It’s Dayna right?”

  I look up in surprise. “How... how do you know my name?”

  With a smirk he replies, “You know mine don’t you? Why should I not know yours?”

  “I didn’t think you would... be interested my lord.” I have to look away from the intensity of his eyes. Instead, my gaze falls on his chest showing above his open-neck tunic.

  “Should I not be interested in knowing the people who tend my room every day, the ones who light fires in my hearth?”

  I just nod, not knowing what to say. He has closed half the distance between us. I wish he would just come and get it over with, instead of taking his time dandling with me.

  “So what were you really doing in here?” Two steps closer. He’s larger than I realized, viewing him this close. I want to cast my gaze on the floor, but his eyes lock onto mine.

  “Have you come to spy on me again?”

  My throat clamps shut. “I... uh..” I stammer. He takes the moment to stride closer, his form becoming more intimidating. I have no idea what kind of man he is. Will he really hurt me?

  His guarded steps change so quickly that he grabs my arms before I realize what he’s doing. I cringe, expecting a slap on the face, but instead he pushes me against the wall. The impact wasn’t hard but it startles me.

  He is inches from my face. I must be going mad... but I see desire in his dark blue eyes. Before I can think, his lips close over mine.

  His kiss is forceful and throws me off guard. I try to lift my hands to his face, but he’s pinned my arms against the wall. Not that I want him to stop, but I wasn’t prepared for this. He presses his hips hard against my pelvis. He sucks on my lower lip and then pushes his tongue hard into my mouth. His close cut gotee rubs against my skin. He moves so fast I can barely breathe.

  Flutters of pleasure move down my face and neck. I relax, slightly closing my lips on his, but he pulls away. He pushes my face up with his cheek and I feel his hot breath on my neck.

  “So you like to watch?” he speaks onto my skin. Embarrassment floods through me and I try to pull free. He doesn’t look at my face, but forces my arms out so it’s harder for me to move. When he sees that I have stilled, he starts rocking his hips into my pelvis. So confused by the mix of emotions taking turns on my body, the desire for him to continue grows stronger.

  “I can give you something to watch, Dayna.” He sucks on my neck, under my ear down to my shoulder. Noises come from me beyond my control, gasps and moans from each wave of heat, pleasure, and embarrassment. It is difficult for me to keep up with what he’s doing, his hands move over me so quickly. He lifts me and buries his face between my breasts, sucking on them through my shirt.

  Numb to everything except the swirling pleasure, my senses suddenly become acutely aware. When he lifted me, one of his hands wandered up my skirt. His finger rubs against the inside of my leg.

  I stiffen when he reaches my thigh. He stops his assault, his hand tightly wrapping around my thigh. He moans, a hungry sound, and moves back to sucking my neck. His large hand squeezes into my leg, almost to the point of being painful, as he slowly lifts it. With each stroke, he eases his pelvis harder between my legs. Even through his thick working slacks I can feel a bulge. He presses it against me, there. It’s now at his mercy as he lifts my leg to his hip.

  The power of this man assaulting and pleasuring me overwhelms all thought. In moments my apprehension fades and I give in to the desire. His pelvis move off slightly, but his siege against my neck strengthens. I whimper as he fiercely kisses and sucks every inch of my skin.

  I feel a pressure return to my pelvis, which I assume is his bulging member pressing against me again, until, very suddenly, something pushes around my underwear and plunges deep inside my flower.

  I gasp sharply between my teeth at the mix of sensation and pain. My body starts shaking, from need... and from being taken to this level with such speed and energy. He moves, slightly, and I realiz
e it is his finger. He pulls out and I release a trembling breath.

  I open my eyes to him. He’s staring at me, and before when I thought he was angry, I was wrong. He is angry now. Creases on his brow reveal old battle scars. His eyes are steel, like a knife. They demand an answer, but I don’t know what the question is. What did I do wrong?

  “Has a man ever touched you before?” His voice is curt, strained between his tight jaw. I’m so overwhelmed I can’t answer him. He tightens his hand painfully around my thigh and I wince. “Tell me the truth!” I try to breathe to calm myself, but I only take in his hot breath. All I want to do is turn away from him.

  “No.”

  The ‘my lord’ caught on my lips.

  His hand loosens on my leg and I drop my gaze, wishing I could see the floor.

  He grunts in fury and I cringe. He doesn’t hit me, but he doesn’t let me go, either.

  “I thought... by the way you looked at me from the window...” He rubs his forehead with his palm. His other hand lowers my leg and leaves the private area beneath my dress.

  I feel so ashamed as he steps away from me that I can barely hold myself up. Queasy dizziness fills my head and stomach.

  “I’m sorry...”

  The sting of his words returns some of my strength. “Why did you stop?”

  I rub my arms, trying to calm my body with some kind of sensation. Lord Griffith meets my gaze.

  “You don’t want this.”

  “How do you know what I want?”

  I no longer see anger in the cold depths of his gaze, but a darkness, a sadness, a reflection of the trials of his past.

  “You don’t understand.” His voice is hard.

  I swallow another angry response and consider his words. He’s right, I probably don’t understand. The pain of the moment allows me a strange clarity.

  “I want to understand.”

  “Not from me, not like this.”

  “Would you rather I were Lady Helenis?” My words shake with emotion. He cocks his head and takes a step back toward me.