The healers had been different from anything either one of them had encountered. One of them was an elf – a human looking creature with the most sublimely delicate features and gently pointed ears. Both Tristan and Ava had found it difficult to resist the urge to reach out and touch those ears. The man had somehow manipulated the energy in the air with his hands and pulsed light along his broken leg, creating a warm, tingly and sometimes slightly unpleasant sensation deep within it. By the time he was done, Tristava could put weight on the injured limb without any sharp, shooting pains. The healer warned them that it might still be some days before the limb would stand up to abuse, but for now they could expect to sleep and to travel reasonably comfortably. It was a relief to know.
After Tristava's less significant injuries were tended, they were escorted to a simple bed chamber near the barracks. Though sparse and small, it was still a far cry from the unpleasant dungeons that had very nearly become their lodging for the night. They were locked inside behind a thick wooden door, whereupon Tristan devoured the simple supply of food left to him. Then he stood, stripped down to his trousers, and threw himself on the straw-topped pallet in the corner of the room. He put one arm behind his head to cushion it, then let the other fall haphazardly on his stomach. It had been a long day. The pain of the journey and the stress of court had worn them both out. Rest would be a welcome respite from it all.
His hand trailed over his stomach inquisitively.
'Did I not instruct thee to cease that?' Tristan growled as he took his hand away.
He felt Ava's blush on his cheeks. Tired as he was, he found her curiosity intriguing. She seemed to know much – to be worldly-wise in many ways - but her shy curiosity told him a different sort of story.
'I'm not shy,' Ava grumbled softly
'Stop attending mine thoughts,' Tristan shot back.
'I will if you will,' Ava replied childishly.
Tristan smiled to himself. He liked irking her. He liked it even better when he got the last word in and he could sense her annoyance.
'I'll prove it!' Ava growled with masked irritation.
She took his hand and started to feel his body – really feel it. Her touch felt so good after the stress of the day. Tristan relaxed and reveled in it for a brief moment, until Ava's touch broke away suddenly.
'Me thinks thou art perhaps a little shy after all,' he chided playfully.
'Why is it doing that again?' Ava hissed.
'What?' Tristan asked as he glanced around.
After a moment of confusion, he noticed the tent in his trousers.
'Oh that. Did I not tell thee once before that thou hast yet to become better acquainted with my body?' he asked slyly.
'How can it be doing that again already?' Ava gargled awkwardly as it surged happily against the soft, laced leather, providing her with the most sensitive sensation she could imagine.
Tristan's mouth widened into a massive grin.
'My nether eye likes to be thought about. It likes to stretch itself and yawn," he informed her. "It doth yawn many times in a day. Most of all, however, it likes to be touched,' he told her mischievously as he started unlacing his trousers.
'Nope. Hell no. We're not going through that again,' Ava squeaked as she quickly pulled the laces closed again.
Tristan chuckled and let her. The blood was already surging eagerly to his nether regions just thinking about how flustered his body was making her. His burgeoning wood was pressing deliciously against his trousers, making it hard for him to resist relieving himself. He bent his legs so that his trousers could tent more easily instead.
'Argh! Stop it already,' she begged. 'Make it go away!'
''Twas not me that stroked the flame of passion in mine body,' he teased.
'I wasn't.... argh!' Ava gargled as she gave up the fight.
Tristan grinned and turned onto his side to help his body ease into a more relaxed state. It didn't take long. He was too tired to keep up much of a fight.
''Tis probably best that we sleep,' Tristan remarked after a moment of silence had passed between them.
His man-root had started flagging without much effort – he was that fatigued. He blew out the single candle on the small stool next to the pallet, nestled his head on his arm, and closed his eyes to go to sleep.
'Does it really do that lots of times in a day?' Ava squeaked shyly after a long, silent pause.
'Whenever it damned-well doth please to,' Tristan replied honestly with a tired smile, 'So thee should best warm up to my little friend – and keep thy hag hands off me.'
He yawned and snuggled down to sleep. It didn't take long for Ava to follow suit.
---
Tristan ran his fingers over the steel bracelet that had just been fixed around his wrist. It was wide – almost reaching halfway up his forearm. It's fit was snug and it was stamped with an insignia of a dog with three heads. It was a way of marking him for the duration of his sentence, a symbol that told anyone that saw it that he essentially belonged to the Duke until such a time as he was freed of that obligation. The slaves of his homeland sometimes wore collars to similar effect. While he was glad it was not a collar, the fact that he could not remove it himself left a sour taste in his mouth.
'At least it's a nice insignia,' Ava ventured, trying to cheer him up a little.
"Tis Cerberus, guardian of the gates of hell," Tristan informed her absentmindedly. 'Twould seem that he now guards us as we venture forth into some sort of abyss.'
The observation sent a chill down Ava's spine, dampening her optimistic frame of mind.
"Well now I know for sooth that you are a noble," Rowan remarked on hearing him.
Tristava glanced up in response.
"You be learned in the ways of the ancients," Rowan supplied. "Most people here live under that banner, and yet do not understand it. You be a stranger to our lands, and have better comprehension than they."
"'Tis because 'tis the Duke's duty to guard the gateway..." he noted as renewed understanding hit.
'Well that makes sense,' Ava noted with surprise.
Rowan smiled softly. He was a middle aged man with a little extra padding around his stomach, though his shoulders and back showed signs of immense strength. What hair he lacked on the top of his head he seemed to compensate for on his jaw. His eyes were lively and intelligent.
"It would seem that your appearance belies your truth," he noted astutely. "You know of the gateway, even though you are a stranger to these parts?" he pried.
"'Twas where Brantly found me," Tristan admitted as he shifted his weight on his feet.
His leg still felt amazingly better.
Rowan regarded him silently for a moment, his eyes searching for understanding.
'I don't like this guy. I feel like he's hiding something from me,' Ava noted.
'Thou be an idiot. He is clearly an honorable man,' Tristan shot back.
'But he looks so... old and creepy,' Ava noted with distaste.
Tristan half laughed, half snorted in his head.
'Thou would judge a man by his appearance alone? Little wonder then, that thou be such a bad judge of character,' he scolded.
'I didn't mean...' Ava blubbered.
She couldn't finish her sentence because what he'd said was true. If she were still a woman, a man like Rowan would have been throwing her hopeful glances, and she would have been doing her level best to pretend not to see them. She wouldn't have given him the time of day, because she didn't find him physically attractive.
'A man be more than just his fleshy envelope,' Tristan scolded softly.
Ava didn't say anything, but he felt his cheeks warm in response.
At about that time Tybalt was dragged to the forge to have his wrist iron resized for him.
"Sir Rowan, be I correct in assuming that this man's tether is to myself, and has naught to do with the success or failure of my quest?" Tristan asked.
"That be accurate," Rowan replied, "he is your designated manservant."
"Then as my first act as his new master, I would grant him his freedom," Tristan replied decidedly.
"'Tis a foolhardy gesture," Rowan replied after a flash of surprise registered on his face. "You will have no assistance in your quest if you release him of his duty to you now."
"I chose to partake of the quest of mine own freewill," Tristan reasoned. "He did not. He should not be forced to share mine fate."
The smithy looked to Rowan for a decision. After a brief moment of deliberation, Rowan nodded that it should be so. The guards untied Tybalt and left him standing at Tristan's side. Tybalt looked shell-shocked.
"If thou doth wish to leave mine service, friend, the choice is thine. I would, however, caution that thou delay thy departure until we are outside these stone walls," Tristan cautioned.
Tybalt simply nodded his understanding, He seemed mute for the present.
"Good. Then 'twould seem that all that remains is to have my weapons returned to me ere thee guide us forth," Tristan remarked to Rowan.
Rowan smiled to himself.
"There be horses waiting for us. As for your armaments, you shall have them only when we have reached Hamley Forest."
Tristan smiled back gamely, each man well aware of the game that they'd just played at.
"Then let us not waist another moment. I have some sort of monster to vanquish, and my freedom to regain," he noted optimistically.
"You have no knowledge of either the forest or the tales that surround it, do you?" Rowan asked with amusement.
"Not in the least," Tristan replied merrily. "'Tis why I can venture forth unencumbered by the fears that plague normal men – an advantage, I would think?" he replied with a wink as they headed towards the courtyard.