by Jane Price
Clara thought about that as she walked along and was so distracted that after about ten minutes she looked up and realized she didn’t know where she was. She panicked for a moment and spun around trying to find some kind of landmark that she would recognize. After frantically searching, she came up with nothing. She even lost what direction she had come from. She fell to the ground and leaned up against a fallen tree, her face in her hands as she began to cry. A voice came booming from behind her. And it didn’t sound friendly.
****
She turned around slowly and came face to face with a grizzled looking man. Long scars interrupted his scraggled beard and greasy black hair was matted to the back of his neck. From what Clara could tell he was beginning to bald but kept his hair long in the back for some reason. Even in this high intensity situation she wanted to ask him why.
“What’s a pretty little minx like you doing out this deep in our forest, missy,” the voice growled. She took a moment and looked beyond him. She found herself being surrounded by three large man, two of them were skin and bones but the man in front of her was a portly fellow. He was clearly in charge of the group. Or at least the food supply.
“I seemed to have made a wrong turn and have gotten a bit lost. I wouldn’t mind some directions,” she said this as confidently as possible, but her voice cracked slightly. The two scrawny men lengthened their strides and blocked her two end of the path that she was currently on. The forest was densely wooded in this area and with this dress she knew that she wouldn’t be able to outrun the two spindly men.
“Oh, I’m sure we could help with you with directions.” The fat man reached into his belt and pulled out a long dagger. “Where does it seem you need to go?” He took a step forward and held the knife to her throat, the tip pricked her neck slightly, drawing a bead of blood.
“I need to get back to my village. If I’m not back soon there will be men out looking for me.” She was lying slightly. She had fallen asleep a number of times in the woods, enough times that if she went missing through a night, most people at this point didn’t worry until a day or two has passed.
“In that case, you might fetch a bounty,” he slid the knife down towards the knots tied on the front of her dress. “Once we’re done with you of course.” The two other men begin to skulk forward like hyenas. She shoved away the larger man and turned in an attempt to run away, but the two smaller men lunged forward, grabbing her arms. “No need to run,” the larger man grunted, unfastening his pants.
As he said that, one of the men let out a blood curdling scream and reached down towards his hand where a large gash had appeared. Without anyone noticing, a man in leather armor had dropped in on them and cut the two smaller men down. Both let go of Clara who continued to run off into the woods.
She broke branches and tore her dress as she ran headlong into the forest, the screams of the men slowly died off and she slowed down, taking a moment to glance behind her for the first time since beginning to run. She looked off into the distance and could not see anything. She swore under her breath. There was no way that one man could take on three bandits she thought. She wished she had stayed and tried to help in some way, but instead she had run. Clara fell to the ground, leaned against a tree, and wept.
****
“Why are you crying,” a voice questioned from a few feet away. Clara opened her eyes and saw the man clothed in leather. In an instant she was taken by him. He had long blonde hair that was tied in a braid behind his back, a forest green ribbon had been tied into the braid and his hair gleamed when it caught the light. His eyes were a deeper shade of blue than the ocean and his cheekbones sat high on his face.
He stared at her with a look of confusion and concern as she looked back at him transfixed. His armor sat snugly across his chest and shoulders and a crest she did not recognize was blazoned across the front. It was slightly worn, but it was obviously once a brilliant shade of green, similar to the ribbon in his braid. He had a small splatter of blood across his face, but he did not seem to react at all. He had clearly seen combat before, but still seemed almost gentle.
“I had thought they killed you,” Clara responded quietly. The man reached down and helped her to her feet. She stood up and reached forward instinctively, trying to wipe away the blood from his face. His hand darted up and caught her hand, pulling back his head slightly. “You just have a spot of blood,” his hands were firm, but did not crush her hand. She had been reprimanded before, but this didn’t feel like much of a punishment. She almost enjoyed him being rough. There was no real threat in his actions.
“I see, that is nothing that a lady should have to handle.” He pulled out a small handkerchief from a hidden pocket in his armor that was already covered in blood, most likely from cleaning the blade of his sword. She took a moment and admired the blade. The sword looked as though it would be wielded by a man in chainmail, not leather. The hilt had clearly had one of the gems removed which was peculiar.
This man seemed so light in comparison to the men she was used to. He was clearly a man who knew how to handle himself, but she expected him to fly away, almost like a fairy. Those were merely stories that she was told as a child though. He looked at her quizzically and pointed at his face.
“Yes, you got it.” The man nodded, put away the rag, and began to walk off. She watched as he began to walk away and shouted after him. “Excuse me, a lady also shouldn’t be left alone in the woods.” She was not used to being so forward in a begging type of way. Clara was used to men bending over backwards without her having to ask. The man looked back at her.
“I’m not leaving you. Please, if you would follow me.” He looked around quickly, his eyes darting into the dark parts of the forest. “And quickly.” She jogged lightly to catch up and asked him a final question.
“Who are you?” The man stopped and turned to look at her. He tilted his head and examined her closely, the eyes that had just darted around to scan the area now sat perfectly still, staring into her eyes.
“My name is Kieran, and I am the sworn protector of this forest.”
****
Clara followed Kieran as he walked through the forest. His strides were long and careful, missing all of the foliage on the forest floor, somehow finding a way to not step on anything except the dirt. She was not as deft with walking through the forest and every few moments Kieran would turn and look at her frustrated as she would step on another plant.
“Can you at least try not to step on every single plant we cross?” He bent down and corrected a fern that she had crushed. He stood back up and turned to continue.
“Well this dress isn’t making things any easier for me,” she pulled at her dress and showed him how constricting it was. “And where are we going?” Kieran took a few steps towards her and pulled out a knife from the back of his belt. He took up a handful of the dress and began to cut it, freeing her legs. She went to stop him, but he glanced up at her and she caved under his gaze.
He finished cutting the dress all around her and stood back up. When he rose up he was inches from her face. His warm breath tickled her nose and she was pleasantly surprised to find his breath didn’t reek of ale or wine, but smelled like fresh mint leaves. She was also amazed by how his face didn’t have a single hair growing on it.
“My cabin isn’t much further,” Kieran looked up at the darkening sky. “We’ll stay there for the night and I’ll return you safely in the morning.” He turned around and began to walk away, Clara absently reached out towards him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and breathe him in for a few minutes longer. Her hand closed around the air and she followed along behind him, now easily avoiding all of the plants in her path, matching his steps.
As they walked through the forest she noticed figures in her peripheral vision that would dart out of view whenever she would attempt to look at them directly. The walk continued and she would attempt to make them out from the corner of her eye. From what she could tell, they appeared to be more
slender than Kieran, but could potentially be wearing the same armor. She had never had the greatest vision and her mind often played tricks on her, but she was fairly certain this time.
“Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or are there people following us?” Kieran looked around the forest and Clara watched as the figures she had seen stopped and stood at attention for him. They didn’t even try to run away this time. Instead they started walking towards them. Kieran quickly turned and picked Clara up, his hands grabbed under her thighs. She gasped as he turned back and began to run. “Where are you taking me?” she yelled.
“To safety, the cabin is where they can’t touch you.” Clara wanted to ask more questions but looked over Kieran’s shoulder behind them and saw three thin men, all dressed in the same armor as Kieran sprinting after them, swords in hand. She noticed how the hilts of the swords seemed to be made of wood, while the blades were obviously steel. Kieran’s blade was not at all like theirs.
“Behind you,” she screamed. Kieran didn’t turn around to look, but seemed to lower himself and picked up even more speed, easily pulling away from the pursuing group. She looked ahead and saw a small cottage that was overgrown with ivy and other types of plants. A rose bush was blooming just above a small wooden door was barely visible through the undergrowth.
He jumped nimbly over a fallen log and slid to a stop. Clara urged him to continue running but he turned around and they both watched as the three men came to a halt at the log. She stared into their snarling faces, the teeth were sharp and menacing, like the pictures of sharks she had seen in books they had in the Scribe’s home. She noted how they had features that could be incredibly soothing, if not for the mouth full of razorblades. Another thing in common with fairies she recalled.
Kieran continued to hold her, his body tense, muscles rippled with unused energy. Clara’s arms were wrapped around his neck and in a tongue she didn’t understand, he yelled an obvious obscenity at them. The lead dog spit over the log in return and the pack turned and began to walk away. She didn’t need to understand the language to understand Kieran had pissed them off.
Kieran turned, still carrying Clara, towards the door of the house. He walked up to the small wooden door and kicked it open, striding inside. For a cottage that seemed so small from the outside, she was amazed by the size of the interior. Kieran stood for a moment as Clara looked around his home in wonder. He set her down, and her legs began to wobble. His hands shot out and grabbed her as she started to fall backward.
“I’m sorry, it’s been quite the day for you. I’ll get you something to eat and drink.” Kieran walked her to a cot in the corner of the room and sat her down. He then quickly strode to the kitchen area, where he pulled out a kettle and lit a fire in the fireplace to boil water. He rummaged around and pulled out a small loaf of bread that was wrapped in cloth and carried it to her. “Here, eat this.”
She broke off a small piece and chewed the bread. Clara had eaten a number of delicious foods throughout her life, but this was on a completely different level of taste. All of the sweet rolls in the world couldn’t compare to this loaf of seemingly, completely normal bread. She moaned as she ate it and Kieran laughed at her.
“Never eaten fairy bread I take it?” Clara stopped chewing and stared at him.
“Excuse me?” She placed the bread on the bedside table and sat back.
“Bread, made by fairies.” Kieran leaned over and broke off a piece himself, and tossed it into his mouth. “It’s delicious, is it not?” Clara still sat in disbelief.
“That’s not the part in question. The part in question is this fairy comment.” Kieran chewed the bread and looked at her intently.
“You thought they were just stories too,” he leaned back in his chair as well. “I thought that once as well. And now I’m here.” He motioned around the room. “Trapped.” Clara stood up and began to pace around the room.
“What does that even mean?” Kieran stood up as well and mirrored her path around the room. He seemed happy to have someone to talk to.
“I was once a warrior that found myself lost in these woods. I was confronted by creatures similar to the ones you just witnessed out there.” He broke off the pacing to take the kettle off the fire. “I was given a choice. I could fight for my life, or I could become the guardian of the forest for eternity.”
“If you were a warrior, why didn’t you fight?” Kieran poured hot water into two cups, placing in small clumps of leaves into each. As they touched the water they broke up and began to steep.
“I had been running from a larger group of them when I got lost. I watched them cut down three of our best fighters in seconds. I knew I couldn’t win.” He brought the two cups over and set them down on the table next to the bread. “If I had known though what it meant to be the keeper of the forest, I would have chosen death.” Clara stopped pacing and sat down at the table, sliding a cup of tea towards herself.
“How long have you been doing this?” Kieran sat down and pondered the question as Clara lifted the cup to her mouth and took a sip.
“I’ve lost track, but at least two hundred years by this point. Give or take twenty five years.” Clara spit her tea at Kieran in shock, spraying his face and chest with hot tea. He stood up and knocked over his chair, attempting to wipe off his face. Clara sprang up and ran around the table, rubbing the tea off his chest and face. Without realizing, Kieran was standing with his back against the wall, Clara was pressed against him. Slowly, they both stopped cleaning and stared at each other.
****
Clara leaned forward and Kieran met halfway, their lips connected into a kiss. Awkwardly at first they began to kiss. Their lips were dry and they continued to lean in the same direction. They chuckled and Kieran apologized.
“It’s been a few hundred years, sorry if I’m a bit rusty.” Clara raised her finger to his mouth and began to kiss his neck.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” She said between kisses. Clara looked back up at him, their eyes locked and a palpable energy could be felt. They locked lips and their bodies grinded together, the leather creaked as it ruffled up against her dress. Immediately, his hands flew to her dress, untying the intricate notes. Clara’s hands began to unfasten the many knots and clasps on his armor.
Almost simultaneously, her dress and undergarments fell to the floor along with his armor. Her breasts were finally freed. They bounced to life as she stood up again on her toes to kiss him. His body was covered in scars, but it didn’t take away from the vascular muscles that spanned his chest and back. She was so used to overweight, boorish men that this man in front of her was just what she craved.
His hands groped at her body as they passionately kissed and he lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the bed. He tossed her down and the bed creaked under her as she altered her position. He stood over her, his body blocked the dimming light from the window, so that he appeared before her as a silhouette. In that moment, she realized that he was the man she had been waiting for. His outline was the outline that she dreamt about since she was a child.
As she thought this, Kieran reached down and spread her legs. Licking his lips he began to finger Clara. Her legs spasmed slightly and her body was immediately covered in a coat of goosebumps. His fingers were strong, but fast as they teased her. He leaned in and licked her clit as his fingers swam inside her. She moaned and grasped at anything she could. Her fingernails scratched at his back and that seemingly made him more passionate about eating her out.
He moved from just licking her clit to licking her whole pussy, his fingers deftly moving in rhythm with his tongue. He lapped up her juices as she became more and more wet. Kieran stood up again, his silhouette looked ominous as it removed its pants. The shadow and outline of the pants dropped to the floor. Kieran entered the bed with Clara and he held himself above her slightly.
Kieran kissed her neck and shoulder, still balancing above her. Her fingers felt along his body as if she were reading a topographic ma
p, his chest and abs were like hills and plateaus. She finally came to his penis though and it stood out like a mountain range. It was already hard in her hands and, while it wasn’t the first, it was certainly the best she had ever felt. She stroked it as he kissed her more on the neck and suckled at her tit. His tongue flicked her nipple and she moaned, pressing his dick towards her vagina.
Kieran obliged and slid down slightly, just low enough to gently thrust his hips forward as his dick made its way inside her. Her hands clung to his back, fingernails dug in, but he didn’t flinch. His mouth was still attending to her breasts, each thrust caused them to bounce slightly in his mouth, his tongue still caressing her nipples. She could feel him leaving hickies on her soft skin.
His hands held onto her lower back, causing her to arch under him as he thrusted further and further inside her. She moaned loudly and began to pant his name, her screams were matched by his own. After a few minutes both of their bodies were covered in sweat, the cabin dark, the moon cast shadows across their exposed skin.
Clara reached down to grab Kieran’s face away from her breast and pulled him in for a kiss. Their lips locked as they had before, now finding a rhythm as their bodies crashed into each other, their supple skin smacked together and Clara pulled away from the kiss to scream his name. A wolf howled outside in the woods and Clara fell back into the cot, panting as Kieran continued to work on her tender body.
