The TwiceBorn

Chafing My Heart Against The Want Of You

  Alora was relieved to finally reach the Livery.  It was a tidy, low-slung building, a veritable silk purse a midst the sow's ear known as Leomedon.  The stable was run by Duran and Havnor, two brothers that shared a love for horses and little else.  She'd never even seen Havnor.  His rules of Livery conduct were passed along to her, in a shameful mumble, through Duran.    She liked Duran and, as unlikely as it seemed, she felt he liked her.  Or...at least tolerated her on a level that allowed him to sleep at night.

                           The large oak doors were propped open in hopes of catching a wayward breeze and she dismounted outside. She grasped Loki's reins in one hand and walked in, squinting slightly from the sudden change from light to dark.  She was relieved to notice it was also several degrees cooler, a welcome relief from the blazing inferno outside.  She was used to being out in all types of weather but the day had caught up with her.  Her temples thumped with a sluggish beat and her mouth was like sandpaper in spite of frequent, small sips of water.  She'd given most of the water to Loki though; being black he absorbed heat like a large prickley pear cactus and she was always worried he was going to collapse, leaving the great Twiceborn afoot and lugging all her own crap.

                                    Duran looked up from his seat against one of the wooden pillars as a shadow fell across the bridle he was cleaning.  He immediately felt his face grow hotter than the mid-day sun.  An idiotic smile creased his lips as he stared at the dream familar figure clad in black leather leggings neatly pegged down into oh-so-soft knee high doeskin boots and a sleeveless leather jerkin that exposed  sinewy, tanned arms.  He didnt associate his rush of emotion as being the first throes of calves' love.  No,it had to be more than that.  What he felt was clean and pure and powerful and it thrummed through him with the combined strength of every crack of thunder he'd ever heard.  It couldn't have anything to do with him having seen only seventeen winters. He was also caught in that awkward time where he was expected to do the work of an adult while still being treated as a child.

To combat this, he'd begun to cultivate a few small hairs over his upper lip.  So far, this attempt at a moustache resembled a dirt stain.  Still and  all, he was a good-looking boy with shaggy brown hair and grey eyes the shade of wet river stones.  He was also good natured enough to ignore the catcalls of "Hey girlie!" when he walked by Fetch's Tavern.

"Looks like Havnor's keeping you pretty busy."  Alora commented as she scrubbed her nails against the dried sweat beneath Loki's cheekpiece.  The big horse tilted his head blissfully.

"Uhh.  Hello.  Yes. Yes,very busy."  He stammered and got to his feet.  His grey eyes flitted up and down her body and committed everything to memory with meticulous detail.  His mind would worry this vision to tatters in just a few short days

"How's Loki been?"  He asked.  He couldn't bring himself to include her in his query.  He felt it would be too close along the lines of a friendly conversation and the first step towards having his I'd-die-for-you infatuation discovered.

"He's fine. Tired though.  This heat just saps him."  Alora could read Duran's shining eyes like a book.  But it was different with him.  His stare never made her uncomfortable.  His eyes lacked that peculiar flat greasy shine she was accustomed to. And he worshipped Loki.

                     Duran walked over and ran a cursory hand down the stallion's legs.  Whenever he stood near Alora he felt a little light-headed.  She had the ability to make even the simplest of movements seem like a herculean task on his part.  He straightened and wiped his hands on his stained breeches.

"His legs are good."  Duran tried another smile.  "No heat or swelling anywhere. How long you leaving him?"

Alora was silent for a few moments.  She glanced around the stable.  It was filled with the same nervous energy as the streets only in animal form.  Donkeys brayed petulantly and several equistags were short-tied in hastily constructed stalls.  She wondered if Duran had the room to put Loki somewhere away from the treacherous little horse/deer crosses.  They were the cheap mount of the traveling merchant and itinerant thief.  In her opinion,they weren't worth the few coppers people paid for them.