Thread: Taking Back the Knight (Camp and Devilla-Roche)

Her large hands. So many overlooked those hands, but he thought they were wonderful. Mind you, he was no spindly lad. The trials and training of years of knightly preparation, followed by three years on campaign had given him a body of carved oak. Not a spare bit of fat hung from his chiseled frame. He had once lifted and thrown an insolent trooper like a spring lamb. But Charlotte's hand were large and wrong enough to crush a man's skull...yet she always kept her strength under delicate control. She had been a model for him growing up, and he had taken the side of any oppressed cohort, defying the bullies though it cost him repeated pain. Her hands...now gentle as a doe licking a fawn. As she ran them over him to cleanse him, the knots of days on the trail began to unwind and he lost a little internal hardness. How glad he was that it was in her powerful protective arms that he learn of the fate of his lost parents. He wept with shoulders heaving, loosing his grief into the safeness of her vast bosom. So many missed moments he would never regain. Well, he could still make them proud. Quietly, his lips moved to a nipple the size of his thumb, and as its softened leathery nub was captured by his lips, he began to draw upon her. Relieved to find that she yet had milk for him, he shuddered and hugged into her, even as her hands placed soothing balm on his scar riddled back, her warm rich cream became a balm for his soul. The room was still, apart from the rippling of the water, the soft wet sounds of her hands kneading the oil into him, and the creaking of the floor each time she shifted her weight. He let the peace of his room and her presence fill him, accepting what was must be a d counting his blessings before speaking. My she-bear, you know that the faithless bitch skipped out on me. Apart from the dishonor I don't really care. That title is mine now. I demanded it from him and he agreed. But the Duke, bless him, has made me a Captain. I have a title now. He has promised me this unruled Barony we sit in...if I marry a Lady. If I don't, he may take back the offer. I suppose I should care more, being higher in the ranks raises my children's opportunities... But right now, since I have no fiancee, no arranged marriage, no Lady whom I have committed to court, children are less on my mind. Besides, right now I'd make a horrendous father. Everyone says I'm mean tempered, always angry, and quick to judge...and they are right. But there is a reason. Charlotte, please listen to me and don't laugh, for you are the only person I feel I can share this with. Your family is known, I believe, for having the Sight. If my history serves me, then I recall that my Grandfather saved your Grandmother from a mob who claimed she was a witch. My learned Sire calmed them, had her say the Lord's prayer and drink holy water, then pointed out that her healing skills were listed among the Godly gifts in the Bible. Since then, your family is above suspicion, though I did often wonder about those drinks she crafted for my father once he hit 50...I noticed mother was the one requesting them and for days after, she'd dote on him. He paused to turn his reddened eyes to her. Charlotte, I can't sleep. Literally! An Imam called down a curse of souls upon me and since then, every night as slumber takes me, I am beset. I thought it but horrific nightmares, but my Squire has sworn differently. I believe Jon is a cousin of yours? Fine lad, he'll make a good knight soon. Anyway, he has the Sight, and said that when he sees me sleep, a dark cloud covers me and invades me. The Imam who cursed me did give something to break the curse. The Duke and I were there and my Arabic is not perfect. The Duke said it was 'Only a Noblewoman's heart will shield him.' But I wonder if it was a woman's noble heart. That's why he insists I marry into nobility I think. Listlessly, he looked up at her. Charlotte, you usually have taken the lead, and have Lead me well. Please...would you cradle me like you did when I was small. I feel safe in your arms. Perhaps it won't come so quickly and you can wake me as soon as I'm in pain. I am at my wits end and have desired to kill myself...but I think that is their goal. Having gone beyond what any might in exhaustion, his head drooped and his breathing calmed. But no sooner had he gone at ease than a darkness seemed to permeate the corners of the room. It flowed thicker and to those with the ability, faces could be seen moving about. Angry visages with teeth bared. It thickened above and moved towards him sliding across his legs and making him cry out. But oddly, it seemed unable to approach Charlotte and the portions of him close to her remained untouched.