Anemo had a good advantage as she watched CanuBaraksson. His svelte body wrapped around the lute, his agile fingers strumming its cords lightly. Her body moved and danced with his soft thrumming. Her eyes devoured! Her memory slid back to seasons past......
It only took Dury moments to recognise the musician as he walked into one of the seediest Taverns in Mipoint. He was tall, anorexic and very dark. His favored hat slouched across a mop of salt n peppered hair. Dark eyes encased within circular frames and the dark shadow of a tortured soul across his jaw line.
Dury felt the twinge start in her stomach and spread in all directions. Her eyes watched as the man took a seat by the inadequate fire. Resting his lute across his lap, he caressed its strings. A loving touch. Dury felt her nipples tighten and her mind wander.
Dury wore her best corset, the one she called her getting lucky tonight. It held her breasts high, pushing her loose blouse lower, revealing just enough of her milky white cleft to arouse even the most drunken and smelly of sorts. But not tonight, Dury had made her own choice and the musician was her choice of bed warmer.
Not being a soul to creep up on a person. Dury was apprehensive. This man's reputation preceded him. He'd been playing for coppers all over the lands of Mernac since he was 10 seasons. No one knew much about the man. No one was game enough to speak to the bastard son of a God. Dury had heard the rumors, that Canu had taken his fathers name, he lived in the palace with his father. She knew that his musical powers granted him with the ability to ease the pain of a soul.
But it was not a pain of the soul that Dury wanted eased. A slight smile whispered its way across her face as she strode up to the man known as CanuBaraksson.
'Can I get you a drink sire?' Dury took in the clean smell of the man, her nostrils flaring, slightly. Her eyes drinking in his lithe form. Restraining herself, barely from brushing against him as she lent forward to look at his lute.
Dury knew the man had never been handsome, but looks did not count. They were only the wrappings and these wrappings even with the sunken cheeks, and deep-set black eyes, cased in pallid skin. Still spoke of a need. Dury just hoped that his manhood would not remain flaccid.
She felt his eyes travel past her assets, his gaze penetrated her soul. The coil in her groin, loosened. A soft melodious voice, caressed her ears, the smell of pinmint on his breath surprised Dury.
'I'll have the house wine.'
Dury trailed a finger across his lute as she straightened. Turning in a whirl of skirts, she cast a backwards glance at Canu. His attentions were back on his lute. Dury smiled. He was going to prove a little more difficult, but Dury had her ways and though some were under handed, she usually got her man, with a raging lute in this case.
Dury headed off to the bar, swaying her hips as she did so. Many more than a passing glance was shared between the more disgusting patrons. Some even reached out to grasp a handful. Only to find a wall of tepid air holding them back. Everyone in the tavern knew that if Dury did not want to be touched, some magical force would enshroud her and no one had a chance. Some of the more regular customers, had observed Dury and the man of rumours. They knew the look in Dury's eye and smiled. Knowing this son of a God, was going to have a fine time tonight. If he'd let his guard down, so Dury could get his pants down and manhood up.
Canu sat listening to the high pitched chatter, this tavern he knew was not like the hushed taverns he usually frequented. The highly pungent combination of odours, assailed his senses as he walked in the heavy door. Stinging his nostrils. It was the smell of urine, disinfectant and rotting fruit. It did not slow his advance, he did not like the smell anymore than the cacophony he was hearing. He was slow in answering the barmaid's question, a slight hesitation was all. He was not used to being so easily confronted by a pleasurable sight. Hiding his disquiet was easier done whilst stroking his lute. No one had ever really thrown themselves at him. His appearance more oft than not, sent a wave of frenzied activity towards doors. Often reminding Canu of wild animals, throwing themselves around cages, screeching, somersaulting and berating the prison bars.
Canu felt his own sweat squeeze from his pores, as he watched the vixen move away. His eyes hooded under his hat. Adding to the already pungent odours, mixing readily and freely.
Canu listened to the clients of the tavern, they were not afraid of having their words heard and possibly misinterpreted. He heard one man say to another 'Two silvers says Dury will have him in her cot!' Canu barely suppressed a grin. So that was her aim, to bed the son of a God.
Determination set itself upon Canu. He was not going to let one of his black moods take hold. The conversations around him, ensured that was not going to happen. If anything it amused and delighted him.
Plucking a melodious soulful tune from his repertoire, he slowly wove his magic through the tavern. Turning his gaze out to the regulars, he watched as their voices lowered and their gazes turned in his direction. He watched as the barmaid walked back with a tankard of house wine. Her steps self assured. A look of dismay on her face, causing him to frown a little.
'Play something a little more....' her voice was a breath of fresh air 'Up beat, foot tapping. Can you?' she said as she settled the vessel on the rough hewn table beside him.
Canu cocked his head. He'd never been one to strike up a merry tune. He looked at the woman, quizzically. A trained eye, revealed that she was unaffected by his soulful music.
'Happy tunes, also heal.' She laughed as she moved away.
Dury drew her gaze away from Canu as she sashayed across the tavern. Moving to a completely different tune than that he was playing. Her hand reaching into her pocket she caressed the string of gems, given to her at birth. Their music, adapting to her cheery mood. Radiating out into the crowded tavern, slowly the voices began to rise, once more.
Canu was staring at the taverns floor, the look on his face was one of fascinated revulsion. The floor was scuffed at his feet, debris of food and pools of split liquor stained the old wood.
'Look at them!' Canu's mind told him. 'Your gaze helps the music.' But Canu did not look up, he let his fingers play across the strings, suddenly the room was abuzz with a lively tune.
'These miscreants, what are they doing to me?' Canu's eyes flashed, as he looked back up. 'They're out of their tiny minds!' his mind voice screamed, 'Stop playing this happy music. Play what you know best.' However, Canu could not.
He watched as Dury wove through the tables, as she passed the fixtures of the tavern, whistled, hummed and acknowledged her choice in music. Canu knew he'd made no move to physically comply with the barmaids request. In his heart he knew magic was a foot. It held a greater power over him, than his own soulful tunes. Making him obey against his own wishes and desires.
Dury was engrossed with a tete-a-tete, though she kept a visual on her choice for the night. She knew of the bets taking place, she sensed Canu's amusement and his astonished mood. But she was determined and even if she did use her gift, she would have this musician tonight.
All Canu could see was the fall of her auburn hair and her legs, protruding from her now upraised skirt as she danced around the tables. A whirling twister of laughing gaiety. Shoeless she danced.
'They are beautiful legs.' He thought, though he knew he would never have whistled between his teeth as some of the clients were. It was easy to see that this barmaid preferred wearing layers of clothing and hate as he did to admit. They suited her. A glimpse of a rounded butt check had Canu draw his breath. His eyes remained riveted and his fingers raced across the strings of his lute.
Her equipment fascinated him. Of course he'd been with a woman before. The samerzee were renowned for providing pleasure in many forms and Canu had partaken of their particular delights. But he continued to stare, entranced. Humming even to himself. he felt like a captain whose crew had abandoned him, as he watched this creature weave her own magic around the room and into his soul.
© Findbotr August 2007
No comments:
Post a Comment