“Hey now, what’s that in the flask, darling?”
“This?” Tyv smirked at the shift from old hag to darling. Tyv shook his head, voice croaked and hoarse as he answered in an old woman’s voice. “Just a drop of brandy, deary, just a drop, though.”
At the mention of brandy, pandemonium broke out from the guards. Begs and pleas for a taste came from every angle of the barn. The captain tried to restore order, but he licked his lips and swallowed until his throat clicked for want of a nip himself.
Tyv clutched the bottle to his chest. “But it’s such a tiny drop. Hardly a mouthful for each of you. Wish I had more, for I’d be happy to share.”
But the guards had spent weeks enduring cold nights and endless boredom in wait for a thief that was more story than truth, and they were through with the entire mess. Each guard swore that a taste was enough and wouldn’t accept no for an answer. In their minds, the brandy was an elixir of warmth and they’d all freeze to death without it.
“Happy to share! Happy to share!” Tyv crooned while struggling up with the help of the walking stick. While hunched over, Tyv swapped the flask with the one spiked with the sleeping potion.
Tyv hobbled over to the closest guard who swiped the flask from Tyv’s shaking hands and took a lusty gulp before passing it on to the next begging guard. They each sighed out happy groans after a drink, swearing that the little taste was enough to warm them through the night. They praised the old woman for her generosity and toasted to a warmer night, and as the last guard took his gulp of brandy, the first was snoring.
Tyv sloughed off his rags, hoisted the guards off of their horses, and dragged each man to the hay. He laid them in a row, like so many sleeping princesses from the fairy stories, and in each of their clasped hands, he placed a bouquet of fairy primroses.
With a whistle, Tyv called the waifs into the stable and saddled each one to a horse, leaving one to ride himself. They journeyed to the crossroads and east to the nearest city. He sold the horses, paid the children for their services, and walked back to his father’s cottage and fell asleep until dusk.
When the sky burned ocher and brass, Tyv left the shack, bathed with clove oil, and dressed in his new clothes. The ivory and gold of his vest and pants suited his complexion, but he kept the red cloak and black hat, for he felt at home in them more so than he ever had in his father’s shack. He stole into Eirik’s bedroom just as the sky smoldered with the colors of ash and soot. He lit a lamp and removed his hat, cloak, gloves, and boots. Tyv stretched out on Eirik’s bed, an inviting gift with which to tempt the hesitant squire. It wasn’t until late that night that Eirik appeared in his usual night-robes, a candle in his hand. He stared at Tyv, face flushed, but Tyv could tell by Eirik’s tightly pressed lips that he was embarrassed and not aroused.
“You…how?”
“I may be of common birth, but I am a king of my craft. So tell me, have I stolen all of your heart yet?”
“I should scream for the guard.”
“I’d rather you scream my name.”
“The flowers were a nice touch.”
“They’re not near your bed like last time.”
“I burned them,” Eirik said with his chin jutted high in a defiant gesture. “My laundry woman just lectured me for twenty solid minutes about how cruel I was to do such a thing.” He snorted. “She thinks I should marry you.”
“I think you should marry me too.”
“The cooks have also lectured me, and the girl that tends the hens and geese, and even the guards I fired in a rage for falling asleep, although you left the flask and the brandy was clearly drugged.” Eirik started a slow march toward the bed. “My steward thinks I should hang you, and the grooms are mad at me for challenging you because they loved those horses. You have turned my household upside down, stolen every shred of order and composure. The servants are making up stories about your quests, each more wild than the last, and my old wet nurse grabbed me by the ear and threatened to beat me with a switch if I didn’t elope with you this very night.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you to be switched. Shall I help you pack?”
“Damn you, you fool, damn you.” Eirik fell onto the bed and crawled up Tyv’s body until he sat with his thighs on each side of Tyv’s waist.
He twisted his fingers through Tyv’s hair and yanked Tyv up high enough to kiss him. He used so much force that their teeth clanked. Tyv grunted; he didn’t mind the rough treatment. He was upset neither by the yanking nor by Eirik biting his bottom lip. Instead of whimpering at the bite, Tyv growled and hiked his hips up into Eirik’s crotch.
Eirik moaned into Tyv’s mouth, deepening the kiss. He paid no mind to Tyv’s fancy gold embroidering. In fact, he clawed the clothes off of Tyv’s body with the same disdain he would have given rags. He treated his own clothes the same and wasn’t satisfied until not a scrap of cloth separated their bodies. Eirik took out his frustration on Tyv’s throat, biting him from the nape of his neck to his collarbone. Tyv called out and hitched up with each bite.
“Twelve horses!” Eirik finally shouted against Tyv’s chest even as he moved his hips down in order to meet Tyv’s upward thrust.
“Do you have oil?” Tyv asked.
“Beneath guards!” Eirik shouted again.
He stood up and marched to a chest and pulled out a glass bottle. He crashed back to the bed, his face both livid and eager. He poured oil from Tyv’s sternum down to his groin, and started to work the oil into Tyv’s skin with angry, kneading motions. Chest, stomach, and cock, Eirik anointed the thief and slid their bodies back and forth. The warmth of their bodies heated the oil, and their cocks slipped back and forth against each other.
“It should have been impossible!”
“It—wasn’t—even—difficult—” Tyv spoke between sharp breaths. He found arguing to be a challenge when their bodies slid back and forth while tightly pressed.
“I dare you to steal my horse from beneath me.”
“The cream-colored one? You love that horse. You trained that horse yourself, keep him in his own stable, and no one but you has ever ridden him.”
“Us.” Eirik stopped, looking down at Tyv. The anger drained from his eyes. “No one but us.”
“Yeah.” Tyv returned Eirik’s gaze with his own tender look. “I guess you’re right, so please don’t ask me to steal him from you.”
“Steal. My. Horse. From. Beneath. Me.” Eirik enunciated each word. “I have to see for myself how good you are.”
“As you wish.” Tyv shook his head. He squirmed, wanting—no, needing—Eirik to move against him again.
Eirik rose up, knees still pressed down on either side of Tyv, and held both their cocks in his hand. He shifted up, rolled his hips, and squeezed them together. He continued to ride Tyv harder than he ever would his horse, and as he moved, he screamed up toward the rafters.
“Should we, ahhh, maybe, ah-ahh, make less noise?”
“It’s my house. I’m the lord of it, and the damn servants have all betrayed me to cheer for you, so I see no reason to be polite.”
To prove his point, Eirik circled his hips faster. Each hitch of his body rubbed their oil-slick cocks together, and Tyv’s nerves were aflame. He allowed himself to call out, letting everyone know just how good Eirik made him feel. A glance upward showed Eirik with diamonds of sweat on his brow and hair dancing around his shoulders as he rocked.
“You’re so—beautiful.” Tyv reached out for Eirik’s free hand and laced their fingers together.
Eirik opened his eyes and gazed down at Tyv. His hair fell into his face, hiding his eyes, but Tyv still saw the way his words and their pleasure tinted Eirik’s cheeks the color of smoked salmon. Tyv used his other hand to help hold their cocks. Together, they stroked and moved and watched each other’s faces until the last moment when their eyes shut. Finally they shivered, and their come fountained from their cocks at the same time.
“Fuck.” Eirik tumbled to the bed and rested his head
on Tyv’s chest.
“Do you want me to leave?” Tyv asked.
“No.” Eirik sighed against his chest, cooling the sweat beading on top of his oiled skin. “In truth, I never want you to leave. Half of me is swearing to keep you from taking my horse; the other half is praying you succeed.”
“I’ll succeed,” Tyv said, as if it were a simple matter.
“We’ll see.” Eirik sighed again, deeper, lazier, his breathing growing easy as he started to drift.
“I’ll stay until you sleep, but I’ll be gone before you wake.”
“Perhaps I’ll think this is a dream,” Eirik muttered.
“Your empty stable will remind you that it’s real.”
Eirik grunted but didn’t reply. Tyv wrapped his arms around him and breathed in the scent of Eirik’s hair until he knew his lover was dreaming in his arms. Nevertheless, he couldn’t bring himself to leave until the earliest hours before dawn. Tyv dressed and climbed out the window like the thief that he was, but as he crept through the gardens, he heard a familiar voice call out.
“Wait!”
“Oh-ho! I’ve been caught at last.” Tyv stopped because he recognized the voice as the young cook who had first seen the rabbit during his roast heist.
“Please, I want to help.” She panted, out of breath from running and shaking from cold. Her breath rose about her like dragon smoke. “Most of us do. My lord stares out the window and sighs, searching for you. He can’t focus on his work. Any small noise sets him on edge, and it’s obvious that he’s hoping it’s you sneaking about. He is in love, and you need to win this game of his.”
“Did your lord put you up to this to trick me?” Tyv narrowed his eyes at her.
“He’s too proud to scheme with us lowborns.” She winked at him. “What about the master of thieves? Are you too good to work with servants?”
“My lady.” Tyv dropped down to one knee and kissed her hand. “I do not jest when I say that no one in this world was born lower than me. I would be honored to have your assistance winning over the squire.”
“What would you have us do?”
TYV TRAVELED TO the city in the east and found a tailor, offering a bonus if they could fashion a dozen cloaks just like Tyv’s by the end of the week. Then he found a hatmaker and offered them the same deal with a dozen hats with feathers dyed red and painted to look like his own. At the end of the week, Tyv gathered his order and distributed the cloaks and hats to a dozen of Eirik’s own servants.
All that day, Eirik rode his horse, chasing red-cloaked phantoms along the orchards, the training grounds, and the edge of the woods. Tyv watched from a distance, tracking Eirik on foot and taking shortcuts so he didn’t fall too far behind. They ran Eirik around until he was tired, confused, and more than a little frustrated. And yet, Eirik never stopped his pursuit each time he caught a glimpse of scarlet between the juniper trees.
Then the phantoms started leading Eirik deeper and deeper into the woods, away from his own lands and toward the untamed forest in which Tyv lived. At last, in a clearing overrun with fairy primroses, Eirik stopped. On the other side of the clearing stood a figure in a red cloak, facing away from Eirik. In the clearing sat an old stump in the center of a fairy ring where the primroses wouldn’t grow. A glint of something metallic flashed in the sun. Eirik drew his stallion closer, but his horse wouldn’t step across the fairy ring.
“Clever.” Eirik snorted, talking to the red-cloaked figure several feet away. “Tell me what you hid in the stump?”
The cloaked figure didn’t respond. Meanwhile, Tyv crept closer behind Eirik.
“Fine. Don’t tell me. Play your game. What? You think if I dismount to check, you’ll turn around and steal him from me? I can mount in a moment. There’s no way you’re winning this time, Tyv! It’s been…amazing, and for a moment there, I actually thought that I might—but it doesn’t matter. You’ve lost this challenge. We have to be realistic. We have to admit this was all just a lovely fairy story, but now, it’s time we go back to our real lives.” Eirik slipped off of his horse’s back and walked toward the stump.
Eirik kept his eyes trained on the figure in front of him. All the while, Tyv crept closer and closer from behind. He moved like a lynx through the trees, soundless as he stepped into the flowers. He waited until Eirik bent down to pick up the small gold object, and then he vaulted onto Sommer’s back and galloped into the woods. He slowed Sommer down but didn’t stop riding until he reached the cave where he stabled Snøfall.
He brushed, fed, and watered Sommer, gave him blankets to stay warm, and took Snøfall back into the woods. On the way, he saw Eirik walking home. The moonlight and cold air made Eirik’s hair look like frost clinging to hay. Tyv rode up beside him.
“Why are you walking? I sent fresh horses to fetch you and Nelli both.”
“Yes, you did, and I turned mine down. I lost Sommer like a fool. I’ll walk like a fool.”
“Eirik.”
Eirik stopped and spun to face Tyv. He glared. “What?”
“You always gave me a ride home.” Tyv reached out his hand, offering it to Eirik. “It’s only fair I return the favor at least once.”
“If you remember, it’s not the first time you’ve carried me home.” Eirik clasped Tyv’s hand and allowed Tyv to pull him up. He sat in front of Tyv, and the thief wrapped up his squire in his crimson cloak to keep him warm.
“You’re wearing the ring,” Tyv said.
“Wasn’t that the point?” Eirik raised up his hand, admiring the gold against his skin.
“The point was to steal your hand.”
“I did not think I’d lose, so I did not prepare a wedding feast, but take me to my room, thief, and I’ll give you a wedding night.”
The thought made Tyv’s stomach loop in anticipation. He pulled Eirik a little closer to his chest. An owl called out from the maple branches. All around them, the frost gathered on the crimson leaves as night drew near, each maple and each oak dying small deaths as winter approached.
“Are we going to bed because I’ve won your heart? Or because you lost our game?”
“You knave.” Eirik made a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a laugh. “You stole my heart the day we met. Remember that day?”
“We were seven.” Tyv laughed.
“I’m aware.”
“You snuck away from your wet nurse and got lost in the woods near my father’s hovel. I found you attacking juniper branches with a wooden sword.”
“I had fought with my father that morning and was still angry.”
“You also lost your shoes somewhere in the woods,” Tyv reminded him.
“Didn’t feel it at the time, but as soon as I’d worn myself out and calmed down, I felt every scrape and bruise on my heels. I remember dropping to the ground and screaming, and you scooped me up and carried me on your back.”
“And instead of thanking me, you demanded I fetch you something to eat.”
“Of course, I was a spoiled little brat whose father kept telling him to act nobler. I assumed you were the son of one of our serfs and obligated to serve me.”
“So I took you to a patch of wild blackberries, but you’d never had to pick your own so you scratched your hand and cried—like a noble brat, I might add. I’m sure your father would have been proud.”
“You yelled at me for it.” Eirik laughed. “But then you kissed the scratches so they wouldn’t sting anymore.”
Above them, the canopy faded and the stars appeared, so myriad and scattered that it looked like the sky itself was frosting over from the cold. They passed the orchards and the fields and headed toward Eirik’s manor. They kept talking as they rode.
“I remember teaching you how to get the best berries from the places where the birds couldn’t reach deep within the brambles.”
“Your hands were so quick at it that I thought it was magic and perhaps you were a fairy instead of a serf’s boy. The way you knew the forest made you seem part of it.”
<
br /> “Maybe I am. I never knew my mother,” Tyv teased.
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he replied. “Then you carried me home and took me to the kitchen entrance so I could sneak in without my shoes and avoid getting switched by my father.”
“I thought your house was a proper castle back then and you were the prince. I was mad because you were spoiled, so I came back the next day and filched three eggs from your hen house, but you caught me.”
“I always caught you, until tonight.”
“At least you let me keep the eggs.”
“You told me you were going to share with your brothers, and I figured I owed you for the blackberries.”
“Then it became a game, stealing from you. It was my excuse to see you whenever I could.”
They stopped at Eirik’s personal stable where he had kept Sommer. Tyv watered his horse and made sure she was settled. The moment he turned back around, Eirik lifted him up in his arms and carried him like a bride through the kitchen entrance to the bedroom..Eirik sat Tyv down and took off Tyv's shoes before his own. Tyv unlaced the ties of Eirik’s shirt. He undressed him with reverence, revealing the contours of Eirik’s body bit by careful bit and tracing his fingers along each new piece of exposed flesh.
“Tyv.” Eirik closed his eyes and arched upward as Tyv dragged his fingers down Eirik’s chest. He stole Tyv’s hat, placing it on his own head. “Am I a thief now?”
“What would you steal?” Tyv grinned.
“Hmm, what should I steal?” Eirik peeled Tyv’s gloves away from his hands. Then he unclasped Tyv’s cloak and stripped him of his vest. He threw each item of clothing onto the floor next to his own.
“I’m going to steal those clothes back in the morning.”
“I suppose you will. You manage to steal whatever you fancy.”
Once Upon the Rainbow, Volume Two Page 26