"Just, be careful, okay," Myra whispered softly, her hand patting along his back, "All that politics and stuff, it can blow up in your face real quick."
"You're worried about me?" he turned, a bittersweet smile playing with his lips.
"Damn straight I am. Darkspawn, bandits, assassins, whatever the hell Cal is. Some kind of dung eating maggot, I think." That caused Gavin to laugh, and she cupped his cheek. More whiskers prodded into her skin, causing Myra to gulp. "I want you to...ya know, be happy and stuff. Not get caught in something bad."
He drew back the blonde hairs framing her face, curling each one behind her ear before gently thumbing the small bump at the top. "I like you, Myra," Gavin whispered before kissing her on the lips, "I like you a lot."
A red hot fire set up shop on her cheeks, torching her poor freckles like corn tossed onto the hearth. Each one was liable to pop from how silly she felt from a boy's words. That was all they were, a few words. No reason to go bubbling into the ground over them.
"Ah," Myra suddenly called, pausing Gavin from sliding out of the tent. "Might want to change your tunic. Pretty sure that stain there's been looking at me funny all day."
He chuckled at her assessment and sighed, "You're probably right." Without any by-your-leave, Gavin opened up the tie on the front and yanked the shirt right up over his head by the neckline.
Which was about when Myra's heart gave out. She was certain she was dead, sitting so close to the man with a body of a god merely inches away, but her hands locked into her lap. That tuft of chest hair taunted her. It called out, "Myra, come play with us," but she couldn't move.
Sweet Maker. Gavin bundled up his shirt and tossed it, causing his biceps to tighten up. Myra wanted to trail her fingers along the vein popping up to say hi. Then he went and reached far, drawing the light and her eyes to his stomach. She forgot about the birthmark, the diamond shape with a tail that rested right beside his bellybutton. It was only visible when he was working in the fields, the shirt tossed off and a skinny thirteen year old's body barely worth remembering.
This man's one had her body trying to tug her forward to lay her hands all over him, while her brain whimpered in a corner. He likes you. He said so. You can touch him!
Myra scooted forward, her palm lifting to glance over Gavin's chest. Didn't matter where, she just had to touch it. To feel his skin tremble as she followed the terrain of his muscles. Reaching, she could almost feel the heat rising off his glistening brown skin, when a white curtain fell down over the masterpiece. Skittering back, Myra cursed herself while Gavin moved to knot on the ties.
What is wrong with you? He's your boyfriend and you're scared to touch him? They'd been making out for three weeks now. Was it so hard to think you'd want to see him shirtless? To touch him shirtless?
Did he want to do the same to her?
Myra's lips parted at the thought, her toes curling as her libido rolled the idea around. It sounded nice, very nice.
"Well, I best get to it," Gavin broke through Myra's heady thoughts. Unaware of how she wanted to yank someone's clothes off, whether hers or his she wasn't certain, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips. "See you after?"
Myra watched as he lifted up the tent, his trousers barely able to stretch across his ass. Biting on her lip, she mumbled, "Count on it."
Taking a few moments to give him a head start, by the time Myra tumbled out of his tent she had no idea where to go, nor what to do. The Hinterlands weren't a bad place to be stuck, their father often bringing the whole clan out for retreats. She remembered a really fun lake that hung right to the edge of a cliff. If you floated in it and looked out, it felt like you were staring into eternity.
But that was further north, back towards Redcliffe and they were off to see the elves. Myra pursed her lips at the thought. She got on pretty good in the Alienage back at home, most used to a half blood or two running about, but Dalish were different. They tolerated humans visiting, none were allowed to stay. And for them, anyone without the pointed ears was a human.
Her mom told her to not even bother trying to blend in with them, to not bring up the elf thing. The way she talked, it seemed like they treated Reiss as if she was a human too. Was it because she lived in a city? Though the New Dales were often taking in alienage members who didn't want to suffer in squalor. Or was it the same reason as home? They knew Reiss dallied with a human and went and made a baby who, to practically everyone, looked as human as the rest that stole their lands and did other evil human things. Probably while cackling, humans seemed like cacklers.
Gah! Why did this have to be so blighted complicated? Sometimes she was human, sometimes she wasn't human enough. Sometimes she was treated like an elf, sometimes she didn't have enough elfy blood in her. Each day Myra woke up not knowing what she was until someone told her. If she grew flippers on her hands and people called her a fish, she'd probably shrug and think it normal at this point.
Shaking away all the blood boiling thoughts, Myra turned down the row of tents. She wandered past the great cooking fire, where a handful of servants were working to get the dinner meal out. A line of rabbits waited for stewing, courtesy of her...boyfriend who had to skin them all while Myra kept dazzling him with silly magic tricks. There was one coney with slightly singed flesh after that.
Bryn wasn't among them, but she could have been assigned to laundry which was never ending, or might be helping Gavin take down the tents. Myra could assist, it'd give her an excuse to hang out with them both, but then she'd have to do actual work and nothing could live up to Karelle's standards. Out of ideas, she turned towards the tent she shared with her sort-of sister. While Myra was happy to call Bryn that, having known her since she was five, her mother frowned on the idea. Given the fact Myra did have a half-sister who was kinda important, confusing the two would only lead to problems for people who dared to overhear their conversations.
Taking a left, she nodded at Snowy who sure enough was embroiled in a game of strip Diamondback, or so it looked judging by the poor man whose torso and legs were burning by the summer sun. He held his cards tight to his face, sweat pouring free while staring daggers at the cocksure dwarf. With barely a toss of his cards, no doubt Snowy revealed an unbeatable hand which caused the stripped man to curse in a few languages.
Still chuckling at the display, Myra lifted up her tent flap and turned before the man had to yank free his knickers. As the bright light of summer faded from her eyes, she stared around the darkened tans of the tent to find...a naked man's ass.
What the...! Myra moved to raise her hands as if to smite whoever was rolling around nude in their bedrolls, when the dark hair of the naked man moved to reveal an elven face smiling in rapture.
"Bryn?" Myra gasped, causing both of the players to freeze. While her friend's face dropped in shock, when the man turned to look back, Myra was the one to shriek. "Cailan! What the hell are you doing?!"
She took a step forward, about to yank her brother off of her friend, when he flinched in half and tried to cover over...Maker's blighted ass polyps! Myra whipped her head to the side, really not wanting to see that, any of it. Ever.
"My," Bryn shouted, already wiggling out from under her brother. Blessed Andraste, what we she doing under her brother? How could they even...? "This isn't what...?"
"Really?" Myra snapped, focusing only on Bryn's eyes. Maybe if she stared at those deep blues, she'd fail to notice how her best friend was also naked. "You're going to pull that 'this isn't what it looks like' on me? For fuck's sake, Bryn."
"Calm down," Cailan began, already having wadded Bryn's blanket around his waist as cover. It was barely enough, causing Myra's gorge to rise, but she focused on his words instead.
"You..." she jabbed a finger at him, "Can't you fucking control yourself for one Maker damn minute!" He shrugged as if it was no big deal, while Myra only grew more enraged. "Bryn," she reached over, trying to grab onto her friend's hand, but she yanked it back. "Come on. I'm getting you
out of here."
"Stop, Myra. Stop and..." Bryn glanced over at Cailan, both of them sharing...Maker's breath, they shouldn't be sharing anything! "Calm down."
"Stop telling me to calm down!" Myra shrieked, her voice rising so much she had to be heard by half the train. "This is not something worth calming down over! You..." she jabbed a finger at Cailan, "you seduced, you...you sullied my friend!"
Her brother tipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. "Myra, you're speaking gibberish now."
"No I'm not! Do you have any idea...? What the hell is wrong with you?"
She couldn't believe it. This had to be a...a dream. A very bad dream; maybe she fell into the fade. Were there your worst nightmare demons? Cause this had to be one of them. Bryn, sweet, kind Bryn with cheeks of pure joy was ravaged by that notch posting randy prince. And it was her first time.
Myra's wounded eyes glanced over to her friend who was trying to tug on a shirt. She was full of nothing but sympathy, while Bryn...she glared as if Myra was being unreasonable. Surely she knew, she had to know what Cailan was like? Myra was always telling her!
Whipping back to her good for nothing brother, Myra cursed, "I'm telling Rosie what you did."
"For the love of Andraste," Cailan rolled his eyes, but it didn't matter. Spinning on her heels, Myra ran straight out of the tent her brother soiled to find their sister. He was going to get it good for this betrayal.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Blinders
"Myra."
Her heart thundered a thousand breaks, each rush of blood to her head jabbing a fresh pick behind her eyes. She wanted to cry tears of frustration and betrayal, but this wasn't the place. All of Rosie's flock clustered around her, the chickens gawping about whatever they did, but at the sight of Myra marching up with both fists clenched, the sounds of gossip died away. As one they all turned to her, even Evie shutting her gaping pie hole for once.
It was Rosie who staggered up to her feet, her face rolling through a dozen emotions she was doing her best to hide away. Stepping forward, she said her sister's name again, as if that would jog Myra from her fugue state. She should have punched him. That was what people did in those situations, though it was usually another man and because he fancied the girl, instead of she was a girl protecting her friend.
Also, he was her brother. Maybe a duel instead. Like the one Rosie pulled off. But not to the death. Her dad would kill her.
"What's going on, My?" Rosie asked, coming to a stop a foot from her.
"It's..."
"For the Maker's sake!" Cailan's weedy voice broke over Myra's explanation. She whipped her head back to find him dressed but haphazardly, the ties dangling limply towards the ground, a lack of a belt, and no shoes on. His cheeks were mottled from the run, the boy not used to bursts of exercise. "Myra," he glared fully at her, "think very carefully about what..."
"He slept with my friend!" she shouted, jabbing a finger right at Cailan.
Groaning, Cailan tossed his head back and scrubbed into his eyes. "That's hardly a punishable offense," he sputtered out, letting his hands hide away his traitorous eyes.
"I should duel you for it!" Myra shouted, beyond thinking clearly. She was quickly moving into the biting whatever got in her way stage as the rage built up behind her lips, acidic saliva foaming in her mouth.
"For what?" he spat staring dead on at her, before turning to Rosie, "Talk some damn sense into her, please."
Both turned to the only arbiter in this situation, Rosie's eyes darting from raging sister to unapologetic brother. "Cailan, did you really...?"
"Yes, fine. I had no intentions of denying it. I bedded Myra's friend."
"See! See!" she shouted, hopping up on her toes as if she talked him into a confession. "Filthy scumbag..."
"My," Rosie gripped onto her shoulder as if the tiny princess could hope to keep her pinned in place. "You know him, you know how he..."
"She's not just my friend, she's practically my sister, you fuckstick!"
"Wait," Rosie reared back, finally honing in on Cailan who was whistling a bit and looking away, "Is this that elven girl who's traveling with us?"
"Maybe..."
"Yes it damn well is!"
"Blighted hell, Cailan," Rosie groaned getting on board with Myra's plans to make him pay. "You know she's a servant, right?"
The prince shrugged, nothing affecting him. At least not until Myra would punch him in the eye. That'd surely put a dent in his lothario ways.
"I may have heard mention a time or two," was all he'd say.
"And you damn well know what Dad would say about that," Rosie crossed her arms, fully glaring upon him.
Cailan whipped away from whatever fantasy land he drifted off to to glare at the princess, "It's a foolish rule. All because he got burned due to her mother..." he gestured at Myra, who was beginning to crack her knuckles. "Does not mean I should bother with it."
"Cailan..."
"It's not as if I have any control over her. I don't pay her. I certainly don't command her. There's that spotted washerwoman who gives out all the orders, not I."
"Cailan!"
Groaning, he rubbed into the back of his neck and shrugged, "Fine. Very well. I shall cease having any sort of relations with her or any other servant I ever come in contact with." He whipped his head over at Myra and glared, "Happy?"
"No. He should be punished!"
"Why?" Rosie blanched.
"Because he..." Myra began before the words flitted away. It was Bryn's personal information, and certainly didn't deserve to be bandied about in front of all these tittering handmaidens. Which you did already by shouting and dragging it all out before Rosie and her cluster. Myra's stomach churned, her cheeks turning bright pink at the unfairness of it all. That damn scoundrel was going to get away without even a slap to the wrist.
"Yes, Myra. Why?" Cailan spun on her, waiting for her to say anything.
"So help me, Cailan," Rosie turned on her brother, "if I find out you forced yourself on..."
He winced at that, a hand cupping to his chest as if she wounded him. "Call me a cad all you like, but I am NOT that. I thought you would know that. And you too," he shouted at Myra who was tucking tighter into herself.
"Now, unless you intend to string me up by my neck or geld me, I think I've had enough of this." Staring down Myra for a beat he turned on his heel and stomped away into the forest of tents where a dozen heads were popping out wondering what was going on.
Blighted hell, the entire caravan was going to know about this. They'd put two and two together and... Damn it.
"Rossie," she begged, tugging on her sister's sleeve.
The woman paused and sighed, "Cailan may be wanton, but he's honest about it. There's nothing to be done, Myra. If she wanted it, then..." Rosie left the words hanging in the air as she returned to her makeshift throne. With a loud voice, she tried to get her girls onto any topic beyond her brother and his numerous mistresses. Myra doubted it'd take but she was grateful for the attempt.
Locking her arms around herself, Myra headed back to their tent. She should console Bryn, try and help as much as she could. No doubt her friend would be in tears after that. Realize how Cailan used her for his own means and need Myra to soothe the ache away. She'd already thought of a few good ways to torture her brother upon reaching the tent, but Bryn wasn't inside.
She wasn't curled up on the ground weeping, or even sitting silently. Bryn was stomping around in a circle outside, cursing in elven under her breath. When she looked up and caught sight of Myra she snarled, "What did you think you were doing?!"
"Helping!" Myra exclaimed, already exhausted with people acting as if she was the bad guy.
"Helping? How in the Maker's name are you helping! Every fucking person here knows now, because of you."
"I..." she glanced back, clouds forming on her brow, "I didn't mean for that to happen. I'm sorry."
"Oh, you're sorry," Bryn spat. "Poor Myra, she goes running in
without thinking and when it all goes to shit she's sorry and sad. Sorry doesn't cut it!"
What was her problem? She should be mad at Cailan, not her! "Why are you blaming me? He's the one who..."
"You don't know a damn thing, Myra. You never do. You don't care. You flit about free as a butterfly landing upon whatever flower you want while all of us worms are left to toil in the ground."
Bryn's eyes were bulging, her hands worrying a ripped sheet back and forth. In her anger it was splitting worse, about to become two. Myra didn't know how to respond. She didn't want her friend to be mad at her, but she was tired of having to defend herself. Why couldn't anyone see and understand how wrong this was? Was she the only one left with any sense?
"I am not a butterfly!"
"Yes, you are. You always are. Because you're the king's daughter. Act like you're an elf when it suits you. Say the funny words, decorate the tree, drink koomtra, but you get to spend your nights sleeping on golden pillows while we're resting on rotted wood."
Myra's guts churned, "You know nothing of what my life is like."
"I fucking live with you! I scrape by doing shit jobs while you're free to run around chasing after your famous mother or Maker damn royal father. You have no idea what my life is. To stand around with a dumb smile on my face serving you drinks while you get to entertain all the other rich, fucking humans!"
Yanking hard, Bryn ripped the rest of the sheet apart. The noise reverberated between them, Myra's breath catching deep in her lungs and refusing to return. "I'm a toy to you, to all of them. When you're bored or you want someone else around, you pluck me from my job. Just walk right in and I have to follow you, because otherwise I could lose my only home."
"You don't..." she mumbled, but Bryn was shouting louder, her head tipped to the sky.
"And if I do go with you, I risk losing the only way I can get food in my belly! I'm trapped and it's all your fault!" Her eyes flared red, Bryn spraying spittle at the end as she stepped right into Myra's face.
The shame in her gut boiled over, Myra leaping right back. "I didn't chose that life for you. You're the one who decided to work in the castle. There's tons of other jobs for elves. But you're too good to be a dock worker, right? Too fancy to be a seamstress! All I did was help you. All my mom did was help you. We could have just turned our backs on you and left you to die in the street like all the other elves did! How your mother did!"
My Love Page 330