#william garin

“The job is done.” Pero grumbled back, looking around the plush accommodation their employer had given them for the night. “Why does it matter?”

A large sitting area, complete with a fireplace, with two large beds on the far wall. Pero chuckled to himself as he watched William stoke the fire. Only one of those beds would be used tonight. It was rare for them to get this level of privacy, but whenever they did, they made sure to take full advantage. 

“I don’t know what’s been running through your head, mi amor.” William shook his head, bringing Pero’s attention back to him. “But I think you need to let it out. For both our sakes.”

“I’m fine.” Pero scowled.

“No.” William frowned. “It’s been far too long since we last did this. So long that I’d forgotten how much you need it. But it’s time. Take your clothes off, darling.”

Pero froze, realizing what Wiliam was referring to and what he planned to do. A shiver ran through his body and his cock twitched. His love was right, it had been too long since they had done this. Perhaps this would calm his mind.

Pulling off his clothes as quickly as he was able, Pero watched as William took a vial of oil from his pack before seating himself in one of the chairs facing the fire. Once he was naked, Pero already began to feel better. His cock was hardening, something that didn’t go unnoticed by William, who licked his lips as he gazed at it before waving Pero over.

Pero knew what William expected of him as he walked over and positioned himself over William’s knee. It took a few moments for them both to get comfortable, but as soon as William placed his open palm on Pero’s buttocks, Pero stilled. 

“How many?” William’s voice sounded warm as he gently stroked over the curve of his ass. 

Pero thought for a moment, considering how on edge he had been of late. “Five.”

“Five?” William removed his hand. “Are you sure?”

“Five.” Pero confirmed. “To start.”

The first slap was light, bouncing off Pero’s ass with only a slight sting and Pero was about to fire a scathing remark at William about being soft with him when the second blow came. This one was harder, with more intent and force behind it and Pero instinctually stiffened. His skin tingled, radiating out from when William’s hand was still resting through his entire body. Pero’s cock was fully hard now, trapped between his stomach and William’s lap. 

Another slap came with the same intensity as the second, the cracking sound filling the room for a moment and Pero grunted in pain. The pain made him feel lighter, as though the fog was lifting from his mind. William stroked over his ass again, soothing the skin briefly before bringing his hand down for the fourth time. 

This one pulled a grunt from Pero, the tingling settling into a dull, hot ache. His cock throbbed as the final blow came. Letting his shoulders sag down, Pero let out a long sigh. That had been good but not enough. He needed more. The fog clouding his thoughts had lifted but only slightly.

“Enough?” William was stroking his ass again, sending spikes of pleasure and pain through the tender skin.

“More.” Pero moaned, not recognizing his own voice. “Please, mi armor? Make me spill myself on the floor.” 

“We have to ride tomorrow, darling.” William chuckled. “Are you sure?”

“I’ll survive. Please, mi armor?” Pero pleaded. “More.”

“Very well.” William sighed, giving Pero’s ass a gentle squeeze. Shifting his legs to move Pero’s cock free from its place trapped between them, letting it fall free ready for when Pero reached his peak.

He was always sure he’d die with his boots on and holding his sword in his hand, but Pero Tovar didn’t think it would be like this, ambushed in the middle of the forest with just William Garin by his side. 

William Garin who had fallen. 

Had he just been knocked out or killed, Pero didn’t know. He’d only seen his friend's eyes flash towards him in fear or something else Pero didn’t want to name before they fell shut slowly and the man crumbled to the ground with a loud thud. 

There was no time to grieve though, the armed group advancing on Pero now from all sides made sure of that. They had gleaming eyes, rotten teeth, and the smell of death that permeated their skin prickling Pero’s nose as they moved closer and closer. He was cornered from all sides, his back nearly pressed against the ancient rock formation. 

“Yer all alone now, merc. Wish ye join yer friend or shall ye bargain fer ye life?” The leader spat out, the words both insulting and taunting. Pero’s eyes narrowed, his hand slowly pulling out the second sword he’d kept strapped to his back until now. He might be cornered, but that didn’t mean he had nowhere to run. 

With a hungry look in his eyes, Pero jutted his chin out in defiance. “We shall see who joins the afterlife, amigos. Don’t know about you, but I am liking my odds,” He knew his words would goad them and it was exactly what he wanted. The first of the group stepped out, his own hunger for blood taking over and Pero knew he had his target. He charged, both swords at the ready. 

It was a blur after that, a cacophony of feet shuffling in the ground mixed with pained grunts and metal clashing against metal. First blood was drawn and the sound of torn flesh joined in the panting that filled the air. A flock of birds flew off a nearby tree when someone thumped against its bark only to not rise up again. 

Pero sliced through one of his opponents, his own hands slick with both his own sweat and blood and the blood of his enemies. He didn’t think, he acted on pure adrenaline and base instincts, the will to live far too great to be diminished just yet. He turned, swirling on his feet to meet the sword aimed at his back by the leader of the group - the only one left standing opposite him. 

“You are good. But that black powder belongs to me!” The leader grunted, a glint in his eyes teling the story of how he’d already gone mad over the idea of the powder and the power it yielded. Had Pero been feeling any less murderous by William’s demise, he might’ve laughed. 

“You think I have any powder with me?!” 

“Yes! And it will be mine!” the man yelled, charging forward again. Pero twisted, the sword aimed at his chest missing by mere inches. The two men stood at the clearing, bodies of others thrown around like dolls in a children’s room, panting and bleeding profusely. Pero huffed, his breath coming in short and ragged, his hand never shaking under the weight of the swords he still held up and pointed towards the aggressor. 

“What’s mine shall never be yours,” He told the man, his gaze turning freezing and his tone low. A darkness seemed to rise from his shoulders, wrapping the sun in its cloak and making the ground shiver under the sudden coldness. 

Pero seemed to grow in width and height, the dangerous aura around him sweeping to nip at the feet of the other. He could see the other man realize just the depth of trouble he was in, his sunken eyes widening in fear and his hand going slack with his sword. Pero grinned, his teeth stark white against the dark veil suddenly on top of them both. He took a single step forward, his voice booming through the woods and the rocks. 

Her father took a bite of the bread, chewed, swallowed. “You must confide in your maid, I assume. But, Bea… if you have questions about what you read in those lurid… pamphlets your mother left behind, you can ask me.”

It took all Bea’s power of will to suppress a hysterical laugh. Here she was, panicking that her father was about to reveal that he knew she’d secretly met with Pero, and he wanted to talk to her about… novels?

“I know,” he went on, “that it is unusual for women to read. I tried to reason with your mother, but she was determined to teach you, and I cannot argue that it will be a skill that will assist you well as the new Lady Wolfe one day. But please. You can confide in me.”

Bea managed to paste what she hoped was an expression of gentle happiness on her face. “Thankyou, father.”

He folded his heavy cloth napkin and patted it on to the table, as if signifying that he was done with the conversation. He was about to stand when a footman appeared in the doorway of the large room.

“A missive for you, my Lord.”

“Very good.” Lord Wolfe held out his hand and the footman delivered the note, on fine paperstock.

Her father unfolded it, absently brushing at crumbs on his lap as he did so. “Excellent news. Baron Fitton has invited me to a hunting party on his land, a week hence. I should like you to come. He has a son about your age.”

Bea sighed internally. “Yes, of course.”

“It’s settled, then.” He offered the letter to the footman. “Send a messenger to tell Fitton we shall attend.”

Clearing her throat, Bea added, hoping not to sound too excited, “I should like to get a dress made. To… meet the Baron’s son.”

Her father’s gaze softened. “Very well. Have William take you to the tailor’s.”

“Thankyou, father.” Bea returned to her porridge. She was excited - it would be an opportunity to see her beloved children and perhaps to see Pero - but she couldn’t let it show.

*** 

“We’re not truly going to the haberdashery, are we?” William asked, sitting back in the carriage.

Bea hid a smile. “Am I so transparent?”

The Irishman firmed his lips to, Bea thought, hide a smile of his own. “Did I say that?”

“You didn’t need to.”

The carriage rolled along the cobblestones. Bea looked out of the window, fingers playing over the coins in her pocket. Enough for three pies. Perhaps four.

When they reached the corner so familiar to her, she rapped on the ceiling of the carriage.

If the footman thought it was unusual for her to stop in such a ragtag part of town, he said nothing, just opened the door for her. William got out first.

“Wait in our usual place, please,” she instructed the driver. “Perhaps you might get yourself something nice to eat whilst you wait.” She pressed a coin into his hand.

He nodded once, smiled, climbed back into his seat.

“He doesn’t mind that you visit the children?” William asked. “Tovar told me.”

Bea shook her head. “Jon used to be one such child himself. He worked on the land my mother grew up on, was the same age as her. As part of her agreement to marry my father, she insisted she bring as many of the peasants with her as he could afford.”

William was stunned into silence for a moment.

“You, Lady Wolfe, are unlike any noblewoman I have ever known.”

“I take that as the highest compliment.” She paused, smiled up mischievously up at him as they turned a corner into a slum-like alleyway. “I’ve seen the way you look at Matilda. I’ve been thinking - oh my goodness!”

William drew his bow in a heartbeat, only to stop when he followed Bea’s line of sight.

There, atop a pile of rocks and rags, surrounded by scrawny, dirty urchin children, sat Pero Tovar.

And he was sharing food with them. Laid out on his lap atop his cloak was a veritable smorgasbord of olive-studded bread, heavy with oil and butter, thick slices of offal pie, and triangles of sweet dough, shiny with honey and littered with almond slivers,

The children were feasting. Eating as fast as their little hands could convey food to their cherub mouths.

Bea must have made some sound, because Agnes - ever the brightest of this merry little band - looked up.

“Bea!”

Pero’s head jerked up from where he had been whispering with the smallest of the urchins - Gavin. His gaze warmed, and the yearning in Bea’s heart almost became too much to bear.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, after Agnes had tugged her over to the sweet little scene, heartwarming despite the filthy surroundings.

“Making friends, si? He drawled. “You wanted me to be amiable like William, so, here I am.”

He played it off like it didn’t matter, but the gentle way he broke up the bread for Gavin, who had lost some teeth recently, belied his lazily spoken words.

Bea just melted. If she hadn’t been in love with him before, she was now. And hopelessly.

The three of them played with the children for an hour. Bea spent the coins she’d saved for pies on fresh milk from a nearby farmer’s cart, which the six urchins drank greedy. They were quite sleepy by the close of Bea’s visit, Agnes curling up against Bea, her little face warm against the older woman’s chest. As she dozed, the girl played with the soft tassels of Bea’s shawl. When Jon, the driver, came to suggest that perhaps it was time to go and buy a dress, and get back for the noon meal, Bea slipped off the fine shawl and pressed it into the girl’s hands. “Use it to keep warm, or sell it for food. You decide.”

Agnes clutched it tight, her eyes sad and bright at the same time.

The visit to the haberdashery, for measuring, seemed to take an age. Bea would much rather be in the company of the children. She was anxious about them, Gavin in particular. 

When they finally left, William looked between Bea and Pero, and announced, “I think I’d ride up top with you, my good man. If you’ve no problem with it.”

Jon nodded. If he caught William’s meaning, he didn’t show it, but then, he had a fine mistress in Bea, and perhaps knew he would be a fool to spoil a good thing.

And then Bea and Pero were alone, finally, within the carriage.

Bea waited three heartbeats - and considered that very reserved - before she fell on him like a woman starved.

He tasted of sunny olives and rich honey. She speared her hands into his hair, and he banded his arms around her and tugged her on to his lap. The carriage bumped along, pushing his hips up into hers, and Bea gasped at the feel of him, hard and aching, against where she needed him most. She whisper-gasped his name as he bucked up against her as he claimed her mouth, their tongues dancing in the age-old courtship of desire.

She never wanted it to end. Never wanted to be separated from him as long as blood ran hot in her veins.

“You will be the end of me,” Pero rasped against her kiss-swollen lips. “But, by God, will death be sweet in your arms.”

Bea burrowed her face into his neck, and didn’t tell him about the hunt and the Baron’s son. She should have, but she didn’t want to spoil this moment. Didn’t want anything to intrude on her time with Pero. The man who had stolen her heart, completely. 

And when he left, he was going to take it with him. What need would she have for it, if he was gone, anyway?

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