Page 17 of Embers to Flames

“Ok girls. Here’s the sleeping arrangements. The tavern keeper has three rooms. Two with large beds and one with two small beds. I am going to assume you three would like to stay together.” He says, handing me a key. “Theodas will room by himself, and the coachman and I will take the room with the two smaller beds. Sound good?” We all nod our heads in agreement, “Good. Now let’s all go and get settled and we can meet back down here in the tavern for some supper.”

When Erhorn said, large beds… what I think he meant was large enough to hold two people. Not three. The sturdy wooden bed sits in one corner; its straw mattress covered with a hand-woven blanket. Beside it, a small table holds a beeswax candle. The dimly lit, cramped space reeks of neglect, mildew, and the remnants of smoke from a fireplace that hasn’t seen a fire in ages.

“We’ll make it work!” Lenna says, trying to be enthusiastic.

“Let’s just unpack and get ready for supper. I’m starving.” I declare throwing the small trunk containing my belongings at the foot of the bed. I begin to rummage through it looking for a change of clothes to wear to dinner. I pull out a green, long sleeved cotton dress. The trim is minimal with simple embroidery on the cuffs and neckline portraying flowers—roses—outlined in white stitching.

This will work. Simple, but refined.

It is just a tavern after all… not like we’ll be dining with the King down there.

Lenna, Ava, and I make our way downstairs and find Erhorn, Theo and the coachman are sitting at a rough-hewn round table in the corner of the small tavern room. I’m the final person to sit down, and the only available spot is next to Theo. I let out a small sigh as I take my seat next to him. The warm glow of the hearth and the rich aroma of roasting meat and freshly baked bread tingles all of my senses.

The tavern keeper, a robust figure with a ready smile, presides over the bar, polishing glasses and making small talk with local patrons. A local bard sits close to the fireplace, playing a lute and setting the tone for—hopefully—a peaceful evening.

The tavern servant carries over a few mugs of ale for the men and cider for us girls; followed by a tray of buttered bread and cheese.

“I’ve ordered us some meat pies; I hope that is all right with everyone.” Proclaims Erhorn, taking a sip of his ale.

No one says anything. We sit in silence for a couple of long minutes, unsure of how to react to our surroundings. Well—mostof us—are unsure. Erhorn seems quite content with himself, humming along with the tune of the lute player.

Something feels… off.

“Sir, pardon my saying, but I honestly did not expect to be sowelcomedhere. What did you do?”

Erhorn gives off a low rumbling chuckle. “Dear child... what makes you thinkIdid something?” He looks toward Theo with a twinkling eye. I sense his sarcasm and decide not to comment on the matter any further. Why ruin a good thing? Lenna and Ava look as though they are having the time of their lives. Erhorn is practically dancing at the table.

Then there is Theo, who is stuffing bread into his mouth and washing it down with his ale. A bit of butter sticks to the outside of his lip and I giggle at the sight of him having not noticed.

“What are you laughing about? Hmm…” He says to me, the butter still on his lip.

“You just have a bit of…” I raise up my hand, placing my thumb against his lip, slowly wiping away the dab of butter. My eyes lock onto his and stay there for a moment. It’s as if the rest of the room has emptied and the only two people left are Theo and myself. He takes my hand in his and holds it for a moment before gently wrapping his lips around the tip of my thumb, sucking the butter off. His tongue is a curious interplay of textures, both warm and wet. His taste buds are soft and gentle. A slightly ticklish sensation rushes through my hand and up my arm.

The servant sets down a plate in front of me, not so subtly reminding me that we are not in fact alone. I abruptly pull back my hand from Theo’s grasp and look up at the others, expecting to have had an audience, but no one has been paying any attention, to Theo—or to me. Erhorn takes a mouthful of his meat pie and lets out a loud, “Mm hmmm.”

I don’t think this night could get any stranger.

Lenna and Ava fall asleep fast. I, on the other hand, lay there, a cramp beginning to form in my side from the lack of space. I turn over to try and relieve the ache. The fire we lit just before going down for supper is now beginning to die out. The embers crackle and glow red hot. I watch the tiny flames still trying to emit some light in this dark and damp room. I close my eyes, trying to force myself into sleep, but my mind will not stop. All I can think about are his lips, his arms, his scent.

I need to talk to him. He needs to stop this.

Slowly, I rise up from bed and tiptoe my way to the door, grabbing my wrap on the way out to cover up my thin nightgown. I lift the latch slowly and it lets out a soft creak. Ava turns over in her sleep and I stop moving to make sure she doesn’t wake. When I’m certain I haven’t been caught, I make my way out the door and down the hall. Straight to Theo’s room.

With the very tips of my fingers, I tap gently on the hard wooden door, hesitant, but still hopeful for an answer. The door swings open and Theo stands in the archway, wearing only his trousers. His chest is bare. His feathery wings seemingly weightless behind him.

“Well, well… this is a surprise. What might I be able to do for you this late evening?” Theo takes a step back and motions for me to enter. “Please come in, I was just about to pour myself a cup of wine.”

Entering his room is like entering another world. I’m not sure if we are even still in the same tavern. A marble hearth takes up half of one wall. The fire within it dances, casting shadows upon the stone floor, warming the room so much so that my skin begins to turn flush with pink. The other walls are adorned with woven tapestries. Scenes of chivalry and battles once won. Dominating the center of the room is a grand canopy bed with carved posts made of oak. Crimson velvet curtains cascade around the crown of the bed. The mattress, plumply welcoming with down feathers and silk sheets. I stand in awe at the scene before me.

“No way this is what your room looks like.” I say… my mouth still agape in disbelief.

“Well… no. Not when I first got here. I had to make some err—adjustments.” He pauses before continuing, “It just wasn’t fit for an Elf of my—stature.” He begins to speak more quickly, “I wouldn’t have even fit on the bed that was provided for me. Wings and all… you know…” He rubs the back of his neck, I’m sure he’s wondering what I’m thinking exactly.

Gods he looks so sinfully innocent, biting his bottom lip like he is.

My eyes begin to wander the span of his bare chest. Bulging muscles ripple beneath tanned skin, bearing witness to immeasurable strength. So, firm—yet so refined.

I want those arms around me again—and my face buried in that smooth bare chest.

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