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Squire's Secret (Benny and Gunner)

He was staring. Under those blue eyes from leagues above her she felt oddly unnerved. Maybe he had second thoughts and was going to wheel them around and drag her home? Her hands clenched the reins tightly as they just stood there a moment. The moment passed with a glimmering twirl of his blade into its sheath. Red brows rose curiously with his added business but she just nodded and turned the small herd around to head to the courtyard. While uncertain as to why he wanted to leave so suddenly she was glad to get beyond the borders of her own home. They were far enough that the tang of the sea couldn't quite be smelled. It was one of the few things she did miss about her home. The gentle rolling of waves and calls of the seabirds. She wondered if Friderick had ever been to the sea.

Jacqueline jumped from her daydreaming when Friderick returned with a few more satchels. Once Friderick was mounted she hopped up onto William, unfurling Friderick's standard and placing the pole on her boot. Off once more. The village was awakening for a second time. Folk done with the toils of the day and ready to relax with food, wine, and family. None of them seemed to pay the knight and his squire much mind. They weren't likely to know Jacque's face let alone hers. Certainly none knew Friderick, a knight from a different kingdom entirely. They were careful to move out of the way though. Besides the respect and deference owed to a knight the last thing a man or woman of the earth needed was to be run over by a horse.

Soon enough the village melted away and they were back into the wilderness chasing the setting sun. The sight was impressive enough Jacqueline was late to realize that Friderick had chosen to take the lead. Had chosen to trust her to keep up the guise as though the discoery and plotting were erased. The thought made her smile but not so much as the picture before her. With the setting sun in their path the scene was thrown into stark shadows and brilliant highlights. Red, orange, and pink filled the sky and sent Friderick and Wingfoot into dark silhouettes. The massive, strong knight on his mighty stallion. Songs made real before her very eyes. Jacqueline shook her head to be rid of the notion. It barely worked.

Dusk came, stars coming out for their heavenly dance. Friderick found a spot to halt for the night and the work of setting up camp began. He didn't impede her as she erected the horse lines and unsaddled the huffy creatures. When he told her to find fire wood she grinned brightly at him. Not that being ordered around was a delight but she was happy he was treating her like a squire again.; not fussing over her like she was some helpless child. She trotted off into the woods for fallen twigs and branches for their fire, coming back with as much as her little arms could carry. Once the fire was alight, cheering up the little meadow, Jacqueline sat back on her knees with a content little sigh. The quiet of the forest was pleasant. Perhaps she was actually glad they weren't staying in the town. Too much noise.

With Friderick's movements her eyes flicked up, following his rise to his feet and drawing his sword. Her heart gave an excited thrum with his words. For a moment she just stared at him, eyes wide and lips lightly parted. It didn't take long for another smile spread over her, lighting up her face like a new dawn. She jumped to her feet like an excited rabbit and sprinted to snatch up her sword. "Perhaps, in light of the circumstances, you could just call me Jacqueline..." she said as she nearly pranced to where he led in her exuberance. She had to get herself under control. Forcing herself to stop she took a long breath to settle the frantically ecstatic beating of her heart.

Jacqueline had not yet held such near perfect form to date. The spacing of her feet was steady, exactly shoulder width apart and never made too far reaching of a pace. Her back was straight but limber and the strokes clean. It was almost as if throwing off the disguise of Jacque, and not wildly trying to prove herself, had loosened a weight off her. Lighter on her feet and quicker than ever. Even more so than at the squire melee. Friderick's size, strength, and experience of course could easily best her but she had him on speed and agility. A blow that might be hard to block she ducked instead to give him a decent whap on the shins. Until her breath came in heavier huffs past her drying lips she didn't realize she had been grinning the entire time. She could hardly help it. They were doing what she loved best and he had accepted her as she was. Her stamina certainly still needed work of course, though being such a small thing she'd likely never achieve the same levels Friderick could have. In real combat she would tire out her opponent first. Conserve her strength until the end.

"Not that I...wish to question it..." She said between winded breaths. "But....why did you change you mind?" She knew she really shouldn't question it. Just accept and move on happily. There was a certain danger for him and he was willing to risk it for her.
 
Friderick would never imagine that a girl would jump up with such thrill to swing a sword around, to get sweaty and dirty with the scruff and gruff of unwieldy swordplay. Yet in Lady Jacqueline there was a strange energy that she was so willing to do this. It was hard to reconcile given he had journeyed with her for so long and see her do these things already. Including fighting and killing bandits. That had been lucky. Next time might not be so lucky. And if they ever discovered a woman among the fighters, it could get very ugly. Could he be responsible for that? Either he took her home like he initially decided…or he trained her twice as hard so she never lost to anyone.

“Jacqueline is a name belonging to a Lady, of which you are not in this moment. Besides, you’re supposed to be your brother.” Friderick pointed out, speaking the second sentence in a very soft voice, despite only the two of them being present. He ought to refer to her as that. Jacque. Lord Jacque Lancaster. That’s who she was supposed to be. But for all her feminine traits, which he could not unsee now…how would he manage to keep up this façade and not slip up once or twice where it might prove fatal? Of course, even before the discovery, everyone had been treating Jacque like a girl, given the high voice and lack of facial hair that the squire had possessed. Friderick could just be keeping that notion going around.

Still, he could not unsee her as a girl. And their first exchange went badly for him, because he was going soft and holding back. Because she was a girl. A quick strike on his shin sent a throbbing sting through his leg and he hissed, grounding himself a moment as he closed his eyes and simply breathed. He had to change his whole method of thinking here. Ignoring her and her question for a moment, Friderick stalked back around the fire, picked up the flagon again and drank deeply. And quickly. So quickly a bit of it dribbled down his jaw and stubble, which he wiped as he stared back at her over the fire. Swinging his sword, he returned. The alcohol burned fuzzy in his stomach. Now he could be more…careless. Careless about everything. About his squire, about Aurianne, about…this little redhead with the perky breasts and the nice, curvy behind…

“If you’re going to engage in this foolery, you might as well do it correctly. And no doubt the next knight will discover the secret as I will. You might be rejected more than once, until you find someone who thinks he can teach you, because you’re desperate or he’s desperate, and no one really checks to see if he is even capable. Then you will do something wrong and you’ll suffer badly for it, because of his failed teachings. No, I don’t trust anyone else to finish the work I started.” Friderick explained to her in a firm, monotone voice. Was that really the reason? And not the crimson patch of hair above her very tight, pink…

This time he was ready. The old Friderick, the real Friderick, the unrelenting knight with long experience in single combat and duelling. There would be no more hits against his person. He moved his sword skillfully and engaged her in a hot duel, one that ended with her being shoved against a tree while the lower shaft of his blade was thrust near to her neck. He was right in her face a moment. So close…they could almost kiss. But he shoved off from her and gave her room to recover. And while she did…he went to go have another drink. A few drinks might have gotten his blood flowing and made him precise. A bit more was going to make him overly confident or reckless or brash. The empty flagon he tossed beside the tent, having consumed all its contents. But he was a big man. He could handle it right?

“Again.” He ordered, this time awaiting her to come at him. And however tightly she bound her chest with cloth, it still seemed to bounce and jiggle whenever she moved so agilely. Or perhaps because she did, dancing along with her. He was nearly too distracted when her onslaught came, being a short second behind on the first few strikes and parries, though he managed to keep his untouchable mentality as he blocked and defended himself. He was panting hard but still rigid and upright.

“You asked for me. You wanted me. You going to let me down by being so slow?” He taunted her with a half-smirk. “You’re acting like a real girl right about now. Lady Jacque.”
 
Jacqueline stood upright, her breaths steadying out, as Friderick stalked back to the campfire. She cocked her head at him, completely ignoring her, and snatched up one of the flagons. Jacqueline huffed a sigh as he stood there, drinking down the fine ale. It did not seem like a particularly pertinent time to indulge in drink. Was it really so bad training her that he had to inebriate himself? So slovenly too. She was both annoyed and astounded as he drank deeply, staring at her from across the fire. Did he expect her to rush him as he drank? However foolish it seemed to guzzle down ale while training. Then again he was a large man and likely held his alcohol well.

The monotone speech only puzzled her more. The curt, firm delivery didn’t seem to marry up to the words. Was he concerned about her? Or perhaps just worried her failures would reflect poorly on him. Either way it seemed strange. She supposed she shouldn’t really care why. What mattered was his willingness to teach her. To keep her secret with her. Even if it could spell disaster for him. She would do her best to ensure nothing terrible would befall him if they should fail to keep the secret.

Her train of thought was interrupted as he began their fight again. Suddenly he pressed his advantages: size, strength, skill. All she had to counter with was her speed and agility. Blocking the heavy swing of his sword proved painfully difficult. She was forced to step back and back and back to avoid the passes she couldn’t block. Focused solely on Friderick she didn’t notice they moved closer and closer to the tree line. Not until her back collided with the rough bark of a tree. Jacqueline sucked in a surprised breath, chest heaving, as he chin tilted up to the press of cold metal. Her eyes flicked up to his as he leaned in, pressing her against the tree. In a real fight she would be terrified. Instead a jolt rushed through her guts as he pressed her down. A shiver coursed her spine brining a hot flush to her face with his so close. Close enough she could smell the heady scent of him, warm and masculine.

Time returned to it’s normal pace when he pushed away and marched himself back to the fire. Jacqueline heaved a shivering sigh, still letting the tree bear her weight for her. The respite was sorely needed. She looked over at Friderick as he downed more ale near the fire. How could he be drinking so much? Taking a couple more deep breathes she pushed herself away from the tree. While she had been excited to fight at first her limbs were aching, her lungs on fire, sweat soaked the back of her shirt. Her body was ready to quit and rest. No, she had to keep going. If she didn’t fight until she dropped her stamina would never improve. Friderick’s order of again brought a quiet groan but she pushed herself forward once more.

First she was on the attack. Her movements were slowing down, the sword weighing twice what it usually did. Feeling his parries and blocks slow down as well she grinned. Maybe he was tiring too even if he didn’t show it as much. Still she couldn’t get past his defense. Her eyes narrowed as he taunted her. “Funny….because I am…a girl,” she growled back at him. Hammering away wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She wasn’t strong enough to beat him down, just like with that squire. She had to be clever. It was just training; she didn’t need to win, but she wanted to.

With another parry of her attack she let her sword get knocked clean from her hands. In that one moment her sword was flung away by the parry she ducked down under his arm and popped back up in his grip. For one so small and easily crushable it might not be considered a wise move. Except she jumped up to wrap one arm around his neck while the other held a knife to his collarbone. The cold steel wouldn’t have far to go to drive through his throat but she held it carefully so as not to actually cut him. She held him tightly her chest pressed to his as she hung off his body like a massive and heavy amulet.

“Let you down? Never,” she said with a soft, breathy laugh. It had been a dirty trick but she grinned up at him with smug satisfaction. Rather than slow with the rest her heart sped up. The knife dropped from her hand and tumbled to the grass. What insanity grasped her she couldn’t say. She had wanted him, that was certain. Her hand freed she gripped the front of his tunic and gave a sharp tug as she pushed herself up close. She pressed her lips to his, hard and sudden. Just a moment she held on, her feet on wispy clouds, her head in a fuzzy daze. Then the world came crashing back down. No! Absolutely not. Both small hands pressed to his chest and she leaned away, her face the same shade as he hair. Blood rang in her ears louder than a church bell.

“I…ah…sorry. Shouldn’t have done…that…” she bumbled, fully unable to look up at him.
 
Friderick snorted and wanted to roll his eyes at Lady Jacqueline’s blatant and obvious statement that she was indeed a girl. Yes, he knew that. Others wouldn’t. She needed to portray herself back as Jacque and not this temperamental girl who was getting what she wanted like some spoiled brat of nobility. It did well to egg her on at first. Her strength might be more useful against opponents closer to his size but someone like the Baron of Alnerwick was an anomaly. He was big, abnormally agile, and disciplined with his movements. He had trained to be this way since he was…well, around her age. He wanted her to be just in control herself as he was. Then size wouldn’t matter at all.

Was that a long way away though? It seemed that way to Friderick, when one of his blocks became more than just a parry, knocking her blade clean out of her hand with a swift stroke of his own sword. Maybe the liquor was starting to affect him with a measure of hubris, as he snorted and took his time to plot out his next move. Just the usual intimidation move, swinging the blade to the side of her neck to demonstrate how her failure might have caused irrevocable consequences for her. As far as Friderick was concerned in that brief moment, the fight was over and he would conclude it with a lesson on posturing and attentiveness. Funny, given how he stopped twice to drink and was planning to do so again. He had to. This was all ridiculous, teaching a noblewoman how to fight like a knight and disguise herself against the greater scrutiny of society.

Too much thinking however and not enough attentiveness on his part. And utilizing control of herself was not as far as he thought. In fact it was very near. And as he moved to finish off their current session for the day, he hadn’t expected Jacqueline to move with such frightening vigour. Fear gripped his heart a moment as he thought her actions might run her right into the sharp edge of his blade and severely harm herself. But at the last second she flowed like water under his blade as it swung over her to where her neck should have been and popped up between his long outstretched arms. Her next move was to latch about him, her little limbs possessing great strength as she clung to him and drew out a very cold knife to put to his neck.

He was simply stunned. His jaw dropped to say something but no words could fathom what had just happened. His brow knitted, though he remained upright despite her weight clinging to his front. She wasn’t…that heavy. And he couldn’t help the sudden flourish of tingle and sensation as he felt her body so clutched to his. So…intimately. It felt so good.

Too many thoughts a second, shifting to either extreme on the spectrum. No, this intimacy was his own fantasy he thought. A desire for companionship given his recent rejection. She didn’t want him like that right? She laughed about her success but he had nothing to say about it. She had cleanly got him. He ought to congratulate her. But instead…she dropped the knife, gripped the collar of his tunic…and kissed him. He hadn’t moved to grab or help to hold her against his body but now he did, dropping his own sword to grab her. To rip her off and demand what she was doing or to hold her closer? He hadn’t even decided which, when she pulled away herself. She mumbled an apology. And still, Friderick did not speak. She had kissed him. And it had felt…good.

His hands didn’t pry her away. They moved to help keep her propped against his chest and in return, he interrupted her stammering apology with his own kiss. Back to her lips. His larger mouth consumed her lips, first a firm press of lip to lip, followed by the furious dance of making out as he sought greater and greater intensity of the sensation it gave him. He began to move as he carried her, until he pressed her right into a tree, her legs around his waist and his hands under her thighs. Gripping hard. He kissed her and in that meadow there was only the sound of that, along with the occasional crackle and dance of the fireplace. He kept on kissing her and Friderick didn’t think twice about the consequences. Only about how much he enjoyed this.

Friderick still hadn’t said a word to her. But he kept on kissing her. Eventually he let her down on her feet, never detaching his mouth from hers, his hands settling on her rear to squeeze very possessively and firm. He was a man. She was a woman. Why shouldn’t they, if they both wanted it? He certainly did. Every fibre of his being worked towards it now. He needed this boon. He needed this release. It would be sunnier on the other side, he imagined. Weapons and gear were discarded. Finally, he pulled away and looked down at the little Lady trapped between himself and the hard bark of tree behind her.

No, they shouldn’t have done that. “Yet we did that.” Friderick concluded, moments after she had spoken that. Long moments of kissing and touching.

He sighed next and let go of her. “Get dinner ready.” He then said, turning to look away and move back towards their camp on the other side of the fire. He began to undress too after taking another gulp of the ale, removing his surcoat and throwing off his coat of chain mail, the usual disrobing before he slept in the tent. Usually shirtless. She wouldn’t have seen that shape of him since the discovery. But he revealed it there, remaining in trousers, boots, and nothing else. He was trying to not think about the kissing and what it meant. He was scared of going down that path, of what it would mean in a bad way…and what it could mean in a very good way. But he knew, deep down, he wanted to kiss her again.

He tried to drown the notion with another chug of the ale.
 
Silence. No just a drum. The pounding of her heart echoed painfully in her ears. Little hands splayed over his vest chest to push back even as his thick arms held her close. So very close. An age passed since her mumbling, bumbling excuse for an apology. It was stupid. Foolish. Down right brazen and unnecessary. Even still her legs remained locked around his waist, her weight leaning into his arms. She should let go, get away before either of them could think straight.

Time lurched forward with his lips returning to hers. Jacqueline sucked in a surprised gasp with his mouth over hers. Her arms relaxed, letting her lean forward into the kiss. Excitement roared through her body, little hands sliding up behind his neck. A fierce clashing of teeth and tongue. She felt him move, his hips shifting between her thighs sending a delightful tremor to the core of her body. The hard, rough bark slammed into her back as he pinned her there. She clung to him tightly as their tongue danced, whirling and tasting. Fire whipped through her, feeling every inch of his pressed against her, the firm grip of his large hands on on her thighs. It set aflame a sensation she recognized yet what she had known before was dull and lifeless in comparison.

Her legs lowered to the ground as he let her down, hands sliding to grasp as her firm bottom. She whimpered in delight at it. The raw hunger, the possessive and intimate grasp. She wanted him fiercely though didn't fully understand what exactly she wanted. Him. Just all of him. Nails scraped the back of his neck as her fingers dug into his hair.

He broke away and her eyes fluttered open, her neck craned back to look up at him. Her breath came in long, shivering sighs. She felt fit to feint as that intensity ebbed from her body. His conclusion hardly quenched those flames still licking at her flesh. No, it was the sigh and command of prepping dinner that brought her back. Then he was simply gone. Jacqueline couldn't quite move, not yet. She leaned against the tree as he left for the fire, head tilted towards him as he drank again and disrobed. The pang from all that marvelous, muscled flesh nearly crippled her. He was cruel.

Eventually she found the strength to stand once more and pushed herself back to the fire. In comparison to the roaring heat of her body the little camp fire was little more than a smoldering ember. She had to get hold of herself. It wasn't right, she couldn't deny that. He was to be her mentor, her teacher that was all. Why would the Lord make such a wildfire of pleasure but force them to deny it? It wasn't fair. Focus. She had to focus on dinner. Stew was the simplest to get going. She dropped meat and vegetables into the traveling pot, a good stock from their stop, and stirred it together.

Silence save for the crackling of fire. Jacqueline focused her eyes on the stew. By God it was near impossible. Green eyes flicked back to Friderick. The barest glimpse of his hones body, cast into dramatic definition by the flames, then back to the stew. So close to the fire it danced in her short cropped red hair as she stirred the pot. She wanted to say something, anything, but no words would come. Her tongue rendered mute after its foray with him. She shivered at the still so near memory. Just a memory it would have to stay.

The stew was cooked in heavy silence. When it was done she ladled it into bowls. She stood to hand Friderick his portion, her eyes lifting to meet his. It was so very wrong in every way. Close, but not as close, she felt that fire growing again. She tried to keep her face passive, no coy smiles or excited tittering. Yet her eyes belied everything she tried to keep hidden, glancing to his naked torso and warm lips, that fire burning bright behind them. Sheer force of will sent her back to the other side of their fire pit. She sat down on the soft grass to eat the thick stew. They couldn't go down that path again even if every fiber of her being cried out for her to abandon the savory stew for something far sweeter.
 
What they did was…wrong.

Yet Friderick could not bring himself to feel any spite in regards to it. Not anger at himself. Not anger at Jacqueline who initiated it. No guilt, no shame, no remorse. It had felt so good and needed. The taste was still on his lips and he licked them more than once as if to recapture the taste. For all the fighting and sparring, there were still very undeniable feminist traits about Lady Jacqueline. Beneath her disguise was a budding young woman unlike any he had ever seen or met. How could he not admire that? How could he not want to be with that? That kiss had been delectable in more ways than one. It left him with a coalescing heat gathering in his lower body, making him hard. Oh yes, he thought about that too.

He felt like saying something as well. What could he say though? Should he deem it wrong even though he didn’t feel it was that way? Maybe he could wash his hands of it, since it was Lady Jacqueline who crossed the line first and not him. But he had reciprocated with equal passion if not more. He knew he couldn’t. She was a Lady, a Duke’s daughter, and an heiress to a great fortune. He had no right to touch her like that. But she had done it first. Maybe, just maybe, she wanted to do it more. The silence ensured. Fugitive glances were exchanged. But nothing could be said, leaving Friderick to wallow in his own thoughts and desires. Which ultimately always brought him back to the same place.

Of her in the river, naked, with her curvy hips and plump breasts and such a ripe little body for the taking. And here she was, practically giving it to her. If they both wanted it, it wasn’t wrong then, right?

The stew was finished and Jacqueline brought his bowl over, in the form of a squire that she was supposed to be. They glanced at one another, his eyes meeting hers, before he reached out and took it. His expression matched hers, hiding his true thoughts, as if seeking some sign in her face that it was not wrong to think this way if she was already doing it. It seemed a painful ordeal for her to turn and move to the other side of the fire, as if to shield herself from him. That made him frown a moment, looking down at his stew. His stomach rumbled, the hunger emphasized by his recent drinking, as were many other urges and feelings inside of him. What foolish game was he playing now? Maybe he shouldn’t play anymore. Maybe he should just…act.

And so he did. The grass sizzled as Friderick arbitrary threw his bowl of stew aside, lurching up and marching around the fire with purpose in his step, right towards Lady Jacqueline. With how he was tensed up, it might look as if he was going to hit or rebuke her. He seized her under her shoulders and put her on her feet before him, before his hands cupped her face…and he kissed her again. His hands moved behind her and down the entirety of her back, coming over her rear and behind her thighs, where he promptly picked her up again. Forget the outside world, it would never understand. Carrying her, while fixated on their rejoined lips, he turned and carried Jacqueline towards their tent. He entered in, ducking as he set Jacqueline so easily upon the cot, with himself and his naked torso upon her as he continued to kiss her passionately. Yes, forget it all. It was just him and her.

As he continued to dance his lips and tongue with hers, his hands moved to her hips and began to roam up her body, beneath her tunic, all the while riding it up so that her bare flesh touched his own as his hands trailed upwards. Until they came to her breasts, which his hand grabbed and promptly squeezed possessively. He broke his kiss to catch a much needed breath, his brow against her own as he massaged her mounds, watching or listening in case she might decide otherwise. His own manhood was evident of how much he wanted it, bulging at the front of his trousers. Reeling back a little, he moved to completely remove her tunic over her head, making her naked above the waist as well. And then he began to pepper her neck and collarbone in kisses, tasting her flesh, moving down between her breasts.
 
The stew was finished and Jacqueline brought his bowl over, in the form of a squire that she was supposed to be. They glanced at one another, his eyes meeting hers, before he reached out and took it. His expression matched hers, hiding his true thoughts, as if seeking some sign in her face that it was not wrong to think this way if she was already doing it. It seemed a painful ordeal for her to turn and move to the other side of the fire, as if to shield herself from him. That made him frown a moment, looking down at his stew. His stomach rumbled, the hunger emphasized by his recent drinking, as were many other urges and feelings inside of him. What foolish game was he playing now? Maybe he shouldn’t play anymore. Maybe he should just…act.

And so he did. The grass sizzled as Friderick arbitrary threw his bowl of stew aside, lurching up and marching around the fire with purpose in his step, right towards Lady Jacqueline. With how he was tensed up, it might look as if he was going to hit or rebuke her. He seized her under her shoulders and put her on her feet before him, before his hands cupped her face…and he kissed her again. His hands moved behind her and down the entirety of her back, coming over her rear and behind her thighs, where he promptly picked her up again. Forget the outside world, it would never understand. Carrying her, while fixated on their rejoined lips, he turned and carried Jacqueline towards their tent. He entered in, ducking as he set Jacqueline so easily upon the cot, with himself and his naked torso upon her as he continued to kiss her passionately. Yes, forget it all. It was just him and her.

As he continued to dance his lips and tongue with hers, his hands moved to her hips and began to roam up her body, beneath her tunic, all the while riding it up so that her bare flesh touched his own as his hands trailed upwards. Until they came to her breasts, which his hand grabbed and promptly squeezed possessively. He broke his kiss to catch a much needed breath, his brow against her own as he massaged her mounds, watching or listening in case she might decide otherwise. His own manhood was evident of how much he wanted it, bulging at the front of his trousers. Reeling back a little, he moved to completely remove her tunic over her head, making her naked above the waist as well. And then he began to pepper her neck and collarbone in kisses, tasting her flesh, moving down between her breasts.

Jacqueline took a slow bite of her stew. She still felt so warm the stew seemed barely warm. It's savory flavor more like a salt like. A shiver wracked her. She wanted something so much sweeter and warmer. These feelings were almost terrifying. She knew that it was wrong, she knew that she shouldn't be feeling such a way towards Friderick. She couldn't help it! Lord above she just wanted to cling to him again, taste his lips once more. Another spoonful was no different. No, it was different. Colder and saltier than before. Her eyes stayed trained on her. The thoughts and feelings wouldn't leave her be. Friderick certainly didn't help matters by yanking off his shirt. Lord forgive her and her weak flesh. A very small, straining voice objected. Why should it be so wrong? Just because someone else said so? Others said her fighting, riding, and being a knight was wrong too.

Distantly she heard the slosh and sizzle of the stew hitting the grass. She had her spoon raised to try another bite but halted halfway to her open mouth when she spied movement. Her eyes lifted as Friderick stormed over to her. She snapped her mouth closed as he towered over her. The fierce coil of his body frightened and thrilled her. He looked almost divine standing there, his body on display with the crackling fire behind. For a moment she thought he was going to yell at her for being a temptress. Then, as he suddenly yanked her to her feet by her underarms, she thought he might be fiercer in his discipline. The bowl of stew tumbled out of her hands with the sudden hoist. Her mouth opened and she drew breath to speak but was cute off by the touch of his warm, strong hands to her face and his lips on hers once more.

Jacqueline froze for a moment, a shockwave ripping through her core. Her green eyes wide as he hungrily kissed her. Then her body just melted to his with a squeaking moan. Little hands wrapped around him, her tongue dancing with his. She shivered in joy as his hands trailed down her back, across her firm rear and to her thighs. As easy as hefting a bolt of cloth she was up and in his arms once more, her strong legs wrapping around his lean hips. She could feel him move again as teeth and tongue meth with feverish vigor. Jacqueline couldn't say she was well practiced in the art but she kept up with his fierce sparring.

Rather than the harsh bark of a tree her back eased onto the soft bedding of his cot. Every inch of him pressed to her body. Her heart sang in delight as they kissed. A soft moan and stolen gasped escaped her as his hands crawled up her body. Her shivering wracked her from head to toe at the feel of his hands on her body. Blood raced through her veins, heart pounding a furious rhythm. Though it sputtered through a beat as he grasped her chest. Suddenly she felt on a precipice. There was no going back if she were to leap. Friderick pulled away for a breath, their foreheads touching as he massaged her. Green eyes locked on blue. Jump.

She didn't try to stop him as he lifted her tunic up. Her arms raised to let him pull it off her. Hands twitched, jumping towards her chest as if to hide her nudity, but she stopped herself. That was foolish. He wanted to see her and she wanted him to see her. She liked the look in his eye when he saw her as a woman and not just his squire. Those thoughts brought a flush to her face, her hands resting on her collar bone making her look almost coy and shy, perhaps even a little scared. Especially given the little smile she gave him. With him descending again her arms wrapped around him, chin tilting back as he leaned down to graced her neck with his lips. At first it was puzzling, her brows pulled to a frown as he lowered his lips to her neck. Her eyes shot wide at the fiery ripples that raced her flesh as he kissed at the sensitive flesh. A high, thrilled sigh whispered past her lips, her veins lashed with fire as he made his way further down and between her breasts.

One hand explored the vast, hard planes of his back while the other dove into his hair. Nails softly scraped his scalp as she explored what she could of him. The world was hazy and rosy from the sensations he drew from her body. There was no turning back. They were falling fast and Jacqueline didn't want to stop it for anything in the world. If she were to fall there was no one else she'd rather share the descent with. Another shiver wracked her body. "Friderick," she huffed his name in a whispered sigh.
 
Friderick was only thinly aware of what Jacqueline was doing, either with her hands or simply in response to what he was doing. There was no complaint or protest. No cries of indignity. All he heard was the soft moans and sighs as he kissed or touched a particularly sensitive spot of her. He was no stranger to the art of making love, though it had been a while. But that spark of memory and familiarity was quickly rushing back to him. His hips pressed forwards against the empty place between her legs, not quite on level with where it needed to be. The urge was thick and growing more intensely. She huffed his name like a spell of desire and Friderick rose from where he was tasting her breasts, coming up to kiss her hot lips once more.

His hands were still busy with their own work, grazing down her slender sizes which they could almost consume in its entirety, wrapping around her flesh with his finger tips nearly joining at her back. They came down to the boyish trousers that she wore, though it was a most unboyish thing that lurked within. And that was what he sought, ever since he first beheld it, his thoughts chasing it every morning and praying to behold it every night. Well, now he would no longer need to pray. His fingers hooked into the hem of her pants and began to draw them down her legs, baring the flesh of her pelvis and upper thighs little by little, with his long reach bringing it down to her ankles. It was then he broke and the kiss and rose up on his knees, looking at his little prize strewn on the tent cot beneath him.

Naked.

And even with the sole light source behind blocked by his frame, he could behold everything. From the way her breasts glistened from the attentions he paid with his mouth, to the flatness of her abdomen, to the ripe slit of her virgin sex below. Friderick’s eyes swept in a grave and serious fashion upon it all. His eyes met her face and still he said nothing, not even in response to her delirious moaning of his name. He liked what he saw though. Very much. And his hands went to his own trousers, hurriedly undoing the straps, loosening it, so that he could shift and fling them down to their legs as well, where the rest of their clothes sat in a messy pile. Out sprung his own cock, proportional to his most impressive form, hard and erect. He breathed heavily through his nose as he planted both his fists either side of her, hovering over her, his cock pointing in a sense towards her own hips.

But not like this. His hands grabbed her shoulders and he turned her. Turned her over and onto her front, before his hands slid down her naked sides to her hips, which he hefted up, forcing her knees to bend and prop it up in that fashion. And Friderick was up on his knees behind her. Now everything was level. Placing his hands upon her curved rear however, a strange and sudden urge came over him and he scooted his knees back, making room to allow his torso to bend forwards. His nose would brush the intimate space between her rear and slit, for it allowed his mouth to come directly over her sex. Friderick kissed it, while drinking in his scent, and it was everything he would ever have imagined a ripe, nubile young Duchess to be like. He kissed it again, and again, stroking his tongue upon it like an eager dog happily lapping up the face of its proud owner. Again, and again.

His hands held her hips tight, keeping it steady, while he continuing to drink from this fountain of bliss. His eyes were closed as he made love to her ruby slit with a passion, tongue tracing around and upon it, before tickling the center for a most delicious response. Friderick enjoyed that. Even his tongue carried a significant weight against her smaller form, teasing much of her as it flickered and twirled. It was most enjoyable and the offerings that flowed were his reward. He went until he had his fill and leaning back to finally open his eyes, saw he had most certainly prepared her for what was to come, even if what he had coaxed may never be enough to make the accommodation of his length easy. But up he loomed again, behind her, hands rough on her hips as he tugged her body back towards him and his awaiting manhood.

In his hand he took it, holding it straight despite its need to rise like the sun. Against her slit it grazed with a most explosive sensation, causing Friderick’s lips to part in a soft sigh, before a heavier one rasped from his clenched teeth as he began to push inside of Jacqueline. He spread her, almost to the breaking point, as inch by hard inch began to disappear into her. Something tore and he knew her maidenhood was his. Holding her hips firm, he pressed in only a short way, before reeling back and repeating, little by little going deeper…and deeper. And deeper into this gift and curse of a union.
 
Jacqueline was near delirious from Friderick's attentions to her body, her face red and ears ringing with blood coursing her veins. Breath came in long sighs and sharp pants, air hissing past her teeth when he found a particularly sensitive spot. Her arms wrapped tighter about him when he came back up to claim her lips with his. They'd only dove so far but she liked that the best. So she thought for the moment anyways. His hands were rough and strong on her body, skimming down her flesh to the waistline of her britches. She shivered as his fingers hooked into them and slid them down her body all while still kissing her fiercely. Her own little hands, a bit rough from training, traveled along his back and ribs. Curious and excited to feel the silky hardness of his body.

He had to break away to snatch the britches off her ankles. Looming above her she had never felt so small and vulnerable. A tiny thing she might be she could be vicious. Her chest rose and fall as she wrangled her breathing back under control. Cheeks still hot and flushed only growing redder as he stared down at her. Certainly he'd seen her naked before, on accident, but this was different. Her mind warred between an uncharacteristic shyness and delight. The delight might win if she could read his thoughts. His face was stoney as he surveyed her; enough so she quailed under such a gaze, her eyes darting away. Not for long though as he grasped the straps and laces of his own britches and removed them.

Lord in heaven. Green eyes fell right to that erect hardness. She'd heard things in her time but had not much to compare to. While she grasped the basic concept no one was particularly keen to be detailed about the act. The men and squires had talked about it but certainly not from the woman's perspective. The nerves started to win out as her mind reeled at the sheer size of him. How on earth could that fit? She was focused enough in trying to figure out that very question she jumped when Friderick suddenly leaned over her, his fists on either side of her body. She laughed awkwardly at herself for spooking so easily as he grabbed her shoulders and turned her body over. The laugh dissolved away as a puzzled frown creased her forehead. She was compliant as he hefted and shifted her body, brining her hips up and propped. Jacqueline swallowed hard and glanced back. She'd seen stallions brought to mares before. Perhaps it was that way with humans as well.

Nerves had really started to settle in as she sat there hunched almost awkwardly. Her fingers contracted and lengthened rhythmically as she felt him shifting behind her. A massive hand on her rear drew in a shuddering breath. She had never been told what to expect but, given the size of him, she was starting to feel a little frightened. Enough so that when his nose and lips brushed her most intimate spot she made a little sound somewhere between a startled yelp and a moan. Her eyes shot wide as his tongue graced that warm, wet heat, a bone wracking shiver coursed along her with ribbons of sparking fire. "Dear God," she hissed into the bedding. That fire was back, hungrier and hotter than ever as he laved and kissed her. Her breath was quick to turn staccato, fingers twisting into the blanket. A painfully sweet pressure built between her legs making her warm, shivery, and craving more. Then, as startling and sudden as he started, he stopped. She gave a very quiet, whispering whimper. Her body certainly wanted more of that, crying to release that pressure.

The sudden tug backwards wasn't as startling, though the newer feeling was. Nothing like his tongue on her. She felt that length press against her. Her head tilted, glancing back as him as he pressed forward. The feeling was...odd at first. The same fiery ribbons roped through her with the pressure as he pressed forward. Those ribbons, however, were taken over by something she had wholeheartedly not expected. Discomfort and pain, even as he so carefully eased himself inside. Her teeth clenched, fingers gripping the sheets. It had to stop. Further and further and the discomfort only mouted until a searing, tearing sensation lashed inside on her. She couldn't bite back a cry of pain, tears prickling her eyes. It didn't stop. It hardly seemed fair! Friderick didn't seem to be in any pain. She didn't tell him to stop though, even as her muscles contracted.

Her breath came in shuddering little pants as he eased himself out then back inside, deeper still into her body. The further he went the worse the pain seemed to get and she whimpered with each deepening press into her body. Slowly, so slowly she barely noticed at first, but her body adjusted with him. She managed to relax a little, then just a little more even as he pressed himself further into her. The pain was easing away; not entirely gone especially when his length delved back into her body. In between the pained whimpers came soft gasps, her white knuckles turning pink once more as she released the clutched blanket. A strange part of her mind was starting to not mind the pain. She'd never really minded pain before, bumps and bruises were common place when learning to fight, but this had been entirely different. Yet the closer his hips came to her rear the more at ease she grew and the pain lessened.
 
Maybe he should have said something to her. Anything to help ease the discomfort he was giving her as his generous member displaced itself within her, forcing her smaller frame to adjust against the large, foreign intrusion. Something kindly perhaps, to assure Lady Jacqueline that it would all pass and soon something great and beautiful would follow. But he had never coddled her before, in either of her personas. He had always been blunt and brash with what to expect and whatever warning bells were dinging in his head, he still keep his lips silent in regards to her ordeal. It would pass. She just had to trust him, as she always did. Trust him to take charge in this and let him take them both to tremendous heights of bliss and passion.

Yes, that was the intent now. There were no more worries or anxieties about the right or wrong of these actions. It was already being done, now they could only see it through to the end. His hands gripped her hips tightly, leaving red imprints of his fingers upon her ivory skin. He could hear the sounds within her body as he pressed in, slick and wet sounds, as he pushed further and further into depths yet untouched by anyone. Indeed he knew he was the first and a part of him thought he would be her last as well, just as she might be for him. But Baron and Duke’s daughter? Even he could not aspire.

But in that moment, he had no other thought but the achievement of their mutual pleasure. On and on he drove in. And he received sounds and praises from her lips in addition to what their bodies made. Was it pain? There was certainly pain in her cries and whimpers. Yet it didn’t seem one of horrendous fright or intended hurt. It was the pain of exertion, Friderick thought. The pain one endured in order to gain something greater, not the reverse in which one was put down. She neither cried for him to stop or pull back, so Friderick only pushed on more and more. Each thrust and rotation seemed an arduous thing to him, though in the constant mimic of rolling his hips back and forth, he lost touch with the place he had decided would be most considerate for her inexperience. Deeper he drove, letting more and more of his manhood become consumed by her tight slit. It was astonishing even to him, with his bird’s eye view of the whole thing, how much of himself went into her. And indeed he had the notion…could Jacqueline take all of him?

It was starting to look that way. And as she did, he became less and less concerned about that and more and more concerned about working up a pace to chase that elusive sensation of pleasure. His hands dug deeper into her sides. He gritted his teeth and soon his breath began to sound like that of a stallion after a hard race. And his hips jerked forward harder, like a spear, now slapping to her hips and rear as it was bent and curved. It had become rough, his mind reckless in his spiral descent into passion. No cries to stop or pause resonated to halt him. He was fully inside of her now, drawing much of his length back, before he slammed back to her depths. And the act to do so was taking less seconds as his body pushed to the limits. It resounded heavily within and outside the tent. All of the sounds, except his voice. He didn’t know what to say. That would be a problem for later. His problem now was two fold. Fighting the sensation, in order to elongate it, and to achieve it, in all its glory. They were contradictory, yet one eventually won out over the other.

He began to groan, rasping with his mouth open, grunting audibly and without care, like some feral thing. He kept on thrusting, even as his manhood began to spew something inside of her. Hot, copious, and sticky, it flooded her interior and his spearing shaft ensured it was painted on every bit of her within. One final thrust, straight to the hilt, with the last, loud smack of flesh into flesh, and he was done. Behind Jacqueline, he panted hard. His shoulders were balls of muscle that rose as if on a stormy tide. His body was flexed all over, his abdomen chiseled as it constrained and inflated with each breath. He could feel the pinprick of sweat all over his body. How long had it been? He could not tell. The warmth of the fire behind was barely felt in regards to the warmth within. Their own little world, containing this most scandalous secret. And they both were guilty.

He drew out of her and the sound was slick within the tent. He watched with a straight face and very concealed glee as her hole gaped for a full moment after his departure. How she had managed to consume him and not break was miraculous. A smile pulled at the corner of his lips. He didn’t know what came over him, but he reeled his hand back…and slapped Jacqueline’s ass in appreciation. She was a little trooper, that was for sure. His little trooper. But could he really make that claim? It wasn’t even his place to consider it. Yet here they were.

Nothing seemed to stop him, as he grabbed her shoulders and rolled her onto her back, whether she was composed and recuperated or not. He settled a hand on her right shoulder, in effect able to pin her entire torso down, while his other took hold of his cock, glistening with both their juices. And the colour of her maidenhood. But he didn’t seem to notice, as he guided himself into her slit once more and gave her the sensation of fullness, pushing to have her take all of him in again. Friderick leaned over her, face to face as they were now, arms flexed as he held himself up with his fists on the ground either side of her. She could…touch him anywhere, if she could manage it with him inside of her. He was closer and much more intimate now, watching her face, as his hips reeled back and then pushed in again. And again. And there was no build up now. Like their sparring, he went straight into her, grinding hard and rigorously against her body once more.
 
Just as her body seemed to accept the foreign invader he pressed further and further ahead. The meek sensation of pleasure drowned by further pressuring pain. Jacqueline's head buzzed and raged. She would swear she was being split in two by Friderick but didn't have the words to tell him to stop it. She wanted it to end and she wanted him to keep going. There had to be more than the fiery, splitting pain. She could feel it, a mere whisper of something far more, but it was elusive behind each deeper and painful press into her body. Her little fingers held the bed linens in a death grip as she soldiered on, the only hint of her discomfort in her moaning whimpers and clenched, hissing gasps.

Another little cry made it past her clenched teeth as his hips collided with hers. The end of a long, treacherous road. Friderick was no soft hand with his lessons though, she had long since learned that lesson. With a long, slow draw, he reeled back only to slam back into her body with the force of a stinging arrow. Jacqueline gave another little cry, though the pained tones diminished. Her body didn't sing with so much pain that time, or the next, or all the subsequent forceful and hard spears into her depths. Each time, more and more, the pain was being beaten back by something new. Warm tendrils of fire whipped up her body. Each gasping cry more and more elated. As the tent filled with the slick sounds and heady smells of their coupling the pain became but a ghost of what it once was. Jacqueline's breath came in short, sharp pants in steady time with Friderick's thrusts against her. A sweet, singing pressure built between her legs where he speared into her. Behind her she could hear his savage grunts and huffs, feral and primal, that only spurred on that bubbling pool of delight.

With a sudden, hard jolt he slammed into her and halted. Her face hot and mind dizzied, that bubbling pool so close to overflowing but dying off with him stopped. She could feel a warmth spread inside of her, making her shiver in its wake. A shuddering moan warbled from her throat as he drew out of her completely. That was all? Weakly she pushed up onto her forearms to turn and look to Friderick with questioning eyes. Just in time for him to reel a hand back and cracked it across her back side. A high, almost squealing grunt escape her from the impact. The mark of his hand appearing almost immediately on her creamy flesh. Lord, why had that sent those hot ribbons across her body?

Jacqueline didn't get a chance to raise any questions. Friderick's massive form loomed over her and flipped her back around. Flat on her back as gaze up at him, eyes dark and hooded but still questioning. Her little hands raised to rest on the hard planes of his chest as he pressed her down into the cot. No time for words. Still rigid as a lance her guided himself back inside of her. A quaking gasp rasped into her throat as he speared into her straight to the hilt. Her back arched, pressing her breasts to his chest. Strong but little legs raised as if some primal instinct guided them to wrap around his hips. He gave her no quarter and began again, grinding his length into her with vigorous intent.

The pained tears had since fled, dry streaks the only sign they'd ever existed. Jacqueline clung tightly to Friderick as he ravaged her body again. That hot, bubbling spring teeming again as her mind disappeared back into that hazy bliss. Inside and out her body gripped and clung to his. Nothing could possibly exist but for the pair of them in that tent. Unlike when he took her from behind her body, albeit haltingly at first, began to move with his. Her hips grinding against his, pushing him as far into her body as possible. Nails dug into his flesh, slick and scraping from the prickled sweat. Her voice in high little staccato gasps and cries. Jacqueline was sure she was fit to faint, as ladies were wont to do. Until something within her seemed to shatter.

Her body seized up, throat tight with a long staccato cry before cutting out into silence. Time held still, she was sure even her heart stopped beating as her breath stilled. In a rush everything surged back, crashing waves of fire swept through her with a shuddering exhale. Every fiber of her being was alight and alive with the sensation sending her to a heaving, trembling mess beneath Friderick. Her arms weak but still locked onto him as if terrified that she might fall off the earth if she released him. No one had prepared her for any of this. It was terrifying, it was wondrous. Even through the initial pains she had followed and trusted Friderick. Lord above was she glad for it.
 
Once he felt her squeezing and milking around his shaft, there was nothing further to hold back the Baron of Alnerwick as he gored his prize over and over again in lust. Her sounds, her noises, they might still sound like pain but Jacqueline did nothing to try and escape it, rather welcoming it into her core as it seemed to him. She wanted it. She wanted him. And it was reciprocated right back at her as Friderick began again on his new round. Atop of her, blanketing her, his muscular warm body set against her miniscule frame, it was certainly more direct this time as he speared her hard. Her little hands left tingles across his flesh, with his cheek next to hers, allowing their sounds to flow ever so clearly into one another’s ear. It all sounded like praise to Friderick.

He could feel her breasts prodding into his broad chest. He could feel her legs wrapped about his body, helping in her own little way to keep them together. None of it was required, yet Jacqueline did so, and it told so much to Friderick even without the need for words. Her voice couldn’t even if it tried, it seemed. She was really singing his praises, moaning and crying out into his ear beside her face, while her body clung and molded to him as if desperate for more. How could this ever be so wrong when it felt oh so right? It burned within them both. Man and woman. In this tent, they were nothing else. But outside this tent, there was still a life to live.

His hips were tireless. A sheen of sweat had enshrouded him. On Friderick went though, pounding his hips to hers, forcing her to receive his generous length over and over again, the sound slapping and resonating within the tight space of the tent. The air was warm about them but nothing so warm and hot as the bundle of flesh beneath him. And the interior of her slit, which he invaded again and again. Even if he was encased in his lust, surely he should be considerate given her size and his size in comparison. Yet there was none. On he went and Jacqueline seemed to fall into a delirious state given how her voice pitched and her clinging became more…needy. Friderick rather liked the sensation, being held and grabbed on with such need for what he could offer. He gave all that he could in that moment, really spearing into her hard and vigorously, despite the melting she seemed to be enduring beneath him.

Friderick soon joined her in making a panoply of music within that tent, as this orgasm came rippling much more intensely and heavy. His entire abdomen had a crushing pressure swelled within it, that once released was joined by a numbing sensation that diluted throughout his whole body. In very paralyzing waves. He groaned and grunted audibly, right beside her face from where his head was pressed into the curve of her neck and shoulder. His body bucked and flailed, as if possessed, still spearing forward with mighty thrusts. His eyes were shut but felt as if they might roll back, his body shaking from the climax as his seed spurted out alongside his thrusting. His whole body heaved with each breath, as if every fibre and thread of muscle was straining to make it happen. No doubt he crushed and pulverised the poor woman beneath him half into the cot and ground in that moment. But the pain and ferocity was no different than what he inflicted on her before, during their training.

The moment to come down seemed to last forever. Spots swarmed in his vision as he blinked his eyes open and slowly on his fists he rose his body off of Jacqueline, removing his own warmth as he observed the damage dealt to the young redhead beneath. She looked every inch a woman then, breasts rising and her sex and inner thighs battered red from his attentions. Even her face, with the shorn hair, was feminine, as were her sounds. He had done that to her. She had loved what he had done to her. They both had. With a wet sound, he slipped free of her as he moved back onto his knees between her legs. This was Lady Jacqueline, daughter of the Duke of Lancaster, beneath him. Yes, he could feel the cold air from nighttime without beginning to kiss his back and sober the flaring heats of lust and passion.

There was blood.

Friderick rose without a word and walked bare footed and naked into the clearing of their camp. He found a rag and gave himself a quick clean down below, frowning a little in thinking he might have caused other hurt rather than just the taking of a maidenhood. Which did not belong to him. He folded the side he had dirtied inwards and grabbed a quick drink to douse the burning sensation within him, before returning to the tent. He tossed the folded cloth, the outer sides still clean, for Jacqueline to clean what was between her legs. Most of it would be his own seed. He lingered a moment outside the tent, as if giving her some privacy that he hadn’t considered giving her before when he was drilling her. He snagged his pants and undergarments as well, throwing them on again. He yawned quite audibly. They were past the usual scheduled time for sleep.

“You ready?” He half asked in a whisper, before ducking back into the tent and moving onto his own cot. He should say something about what they had done. But…what? He had nothing to say. He lay on his back, shirtless and naked above the waist, his fine abdomen rising and falling as he peered at the tent ceiling. It still felt so warm in here from their coupling. And he could still taste her…on his lips. He licked and wetted them, before turning to look at her beside him. She should get dressed yet even issuing that command felt…strange. Nothing felt normal anymore. Maybe he shouldn’t have.

Sleep and a new day would bring clearer thinking in regards to this. He might have started the night by sleeping apart, but dawn would find him having rolled over and molded her into his embrace, hugging her to his chest as if she was but a doll in his arms, small and in need of protecting. He offered better coverage than any blanket of theirs could have done.
 
Jacqueline weakly clung to Friderick as the waves of ecstasy ebbed from her body. In just the span of a heart beat he slammed into her with force, that suddenly familiar heat spreading again. With their faces pressed together the sweet, primal song echoed in her ear. Then both could collapse, reveling in God's masterpiece. Though her arms were heavy her fingers were alive, flexing and dancing along his slick skin as they lay together, heaving and panting from their exertions. It took all her effort but Jacqueline turned and kissed the side of Friderick's head. She should have been ashamed for giving up her maidenhead but who better to give it to? None so far as she was concerned. She could lay like that with him for eternity and a day.

Eternity and a day came swifter than she could have thought. Friderick hefted his massive frame up from her, she immediately felt the chill kiss her skin. Her chest still heaved from their sparring, eyes misty and a sweet, tired smile spread across her lips. She shivered as he pulled away further, feeling his manhood slip out of her. Not for the last time she quietly prayed. A rough tingle spread across where he had been, a prickling promise of discomfort. She wasn't certain where Friderick was going all of a sudden, a chilled shiver made her miss the heat of his body. She jumped as the rag flew into the tent. It didn't take a scholar to figure out what for. Jacqueline winced as she reached between her battered thighs and cleaned herself up, the cloth rough against her tenderized flesh. His seed and her virginal blood mixed together as she wiped herself down, a little tremble at what they had done coursing her.

The gentle call into the tent snapped her head up. She folded the cloth into a quarter and set it aside. "Ah...yes..." she said before even considering she should get dressed. No need right? After all that had transpired nudity was the least concerning. Though when Friderick stepped in wearing his trousers once again she thought she should reconsider that stance. Her lips, a little swollen from ravenous attentions, pressed together to a thin line as he went and lay down on the other cot. Not a word was spoken. Jacqueline sat there a moment, gazing over at Friderick. A million words sat heavily on her tongue but she didn't know how to string them properly. She just watched his chiseled abdomen rise and fall as he stared up at the ceiling. God grant her the ability to read minds.

He turned and their eyes met. Her jaw clenched and unclenched a time or two, willing for words to come. Nothing. Finally she lay down to sleep. The air heavy with their silence and warm from their actions. Exhausted from training and Friderick's affections sleep found her swiftly gone.

Nude and with only a thin blanket for warmth she shivered in the night, dreaming of frozen winters. The sun broke through her dreams, warming her flesh and easing her sleep. Dawn came with a cloudy brilliance. Jacqueline was slow to wake. A deep, soul easing peace weighed her down, a warmth she'd never known. Her eyes opened hazily to find herself neatly captured in a tight embrace. Friderick's gentle breaths ruffled her short hair, her own drifting across his neck and shoulder. She blinked a moment before a content, sleepy smile spread across her lips. Far better than the strained silence. Her legs twined with his, arms neatly tucked between their bodies. Just a few more minutes, she didn't want to end it.

Eventually she could hear the horses stirring, eager for their breakfast. She had to remember her place. Slowly, carefully, Jacqueline slid from Friderick's warm embrace. Once free of his thick arms she rolled off the cot, grabbed her clothing and stepped out to dress. Her body ached with a ferocity she'd never known, especially between her legs. She clenched her teeth and fought down a pained groan as she slid her britches on followed by shirt, tunic, and belt. Moving was a chore but she forced herself to carry on. First she fed the horses then stoked the near dead fire back to life. A simple porridge for breakfast. All the while her mind tilted and whirled, recalling every detail of the previous night. The memory made her shiver in delight, awakening that warmth between her legs again never mind the throbbing ache.

When Friderick finally emerged from the tent her head whipped around to him. Should she smile? Say anything? She wanted to grin like a fool and toss her arms around him but his silence after what they had done kept that at bay. Instead she had a sort of half grimace on her face; warring between trying to remain stoic as him, grin like a fool, and smile shyly. "Good...morning," she managed haltingly. "Porridge?"
 
Friderick, the Baron of Alnerwick, was usually the first to awake. This morning, he completely indulged himself by sleeping beyond the rising of the sun. He was just too comfortable and his subconscious easily justified the sin of slothfulness upon that rising dawn. He was only vaguely aware of the other, his mind not yet alert to the full consequences of what occurred last night. The little form entrapped in his arms was like a cushion, warm and cozy, strong and yet soft. He didn’t want to relinquish the sensation. He had never slept so deeply and so restfully in a long time and never of his own accord. Not without some sort of helper, like drink…or a woman.

And this had been with the wrong woman.

It was Jacqueline’s stirring that eventually roused him from this height of comfort. Cold sensation replaced the warm cushion he had been embracing. The balance of her limbs between his legs ruined his equilibrium, causing him to stir and roll onto his back. His eyes opened and he licked his lips, tasting something that was…unfamiliar at first, then it all came rushing back to him as he stared at the ceiling. He and Jacqueline had…they had fucked. And it was a most heinous transgression of protocol and ethics, especially given the line-crossing he had committed to already. Just because he leapt into the hole didn’t mean it was proper to go deeper. They had done the deed. And he had enjoyed it oh so much.

In the tight space of the tent, he dressed himself with a tunic and belt, along with putting on his boots. Then he threw the flap open, somewhat amazed that the ground was still below and the sky above despite the tenacious transgression he had done. No, God would not punish them so swiftly. It would be slow, as was proper, for such a crime against etiquette. How could he reconcile that memory with what he had agreed to do, to train Jacqueline in the knightly arts, and to conceal her identity as a woman? Clearly their romp hadn’t disturbed her duties, as the horses were fed and watered, with breakfast already on the go. There was she, fully dressed, looking every bit the boy. But he could not unsee what he had seen. She smiled and offered a bite of breakfast. Friderick kept his stern countenance in place.

Then he just gave a nod of assent to the porridge and turned around to dissemble and pack away the tent onto their third horse which served as a pack animal. When that was done, he finally came to accept his bowl of porridge for breakfast, sitting sullenly for a moment as he peered down at it. His stomach grumbled. He had skipped out on dinner last night because of his…drunken foolishness. But now he was famished from the exertion that had ensured in that foolishness. “Have my gear ready. We leave within the hour.” Friderick said, speaking down to his bowl, before he began to eat. Afterwards, he would adorn himself as a knight should be, chain mail, greaves, vambraces, and his checkered surcoat. His hood of mail remained slung back and his helm dangled from the saddle. He girt himself with his belt and sword. When everything was ready, it was time to hit the road and continued on westwards to a certain convent.

Maybe he should truly just leave her there. Both he and her had proven they were not suitable for this task. The lines were simply too blurred.

Yet the day seemed too beautiful to start another fight in that vein. The birds sang in a multitude of voices all around in the high trees. The wind was light and the sun shone strongly above, not covered by a single wisp of cloud. Friderick rode first, slightly ahead, with Jacqueline having to bring the rear with the pack horse behind her. He didn’t command her to carry his standard, as they wanted to conceal their presence in Lancaster lest word reach her parents about where they were. Though, if they should be happened upon and discovered, would it be so bad? It would wipe his hands of a very difficult decision that he did not want to make. Or even consider. It had been so good though. Friderick did feel ten years younger and he had an urge to do something, ride hard to train vigorously or even sprint.

“We can never do that again.” He said flatly, barely a quarter hour after they had broken camp and started to move. “Never. That was wrong. It was a breach of…everything. A knight does not do that with a squire. An unmarried man does not do that with an unmarried woman.” But you took her to a brothel as a reward. “And…a Baron is not fit to be with the daughter of a Duke, who has vassals with more worthy pedigrees than me. We’re not going to do it again and we’re not going to talk about it after today. Do you understand, Lady Lancaster?”
 
If expressions could curled milk into cheese Friderick would be a rich man. His stern countenance and utter silence was more than a little frightening. Any semblance of smiles dropped from Jacqueline's face. He had always be a difficult to read man but this was beyond anything she had experienced with him yet. From what little she had gleaned about sex was that it made people happier, especially men. That's why brothels existed. Yet Friderick seemed downright stormy. Why was he so angry? Maybe he ached worse between the legs than she did. He hadn't made any sound of pain, her ears burned to remember the guttural grunts he sang to her. Jacqueline's red brown furrowed in confusion as she watched him immediately turn to tearing down the tent. Perhaps this was far more serious than the giddy elation she felt? Of course it was. She knew better. It was, perhaps, a greater transgression than agreeing to this scheme.

The first grumbled words snapped Jacqueline back into the world, out of her own thoughts. "Oh...yes," she said and hopped up like a bunny to make ready while he ate. The horses were prepped with saddle and bridle, the pack horse laden with their supplies while Friderick dressed himself. For a moment she paused to watch as he put on his knightly regalia. Her mind was unable to stop the flashing memory of all that taut, hard, naked flesh. She shivered and shook her head. That was enough of that, there was work to get done!

They had a routine and even with the hinderance of aching pain between her legs they were quick to be off. Mounting William was quite the task. Jacqueline squeaked and hissed as the clambered awkwardly aboard her tall gelding. Even settling into the saddle hurt, applying too much unneeded pressure. She glanced to Friderick, he didn't seem to be in any pain. Walking onward didn't prove any better. The rolling side to side motion of William stirred against her drawing a cringe with ever step until her face just froze into a permanent wince. Lips tight and jaw clenched she stopped making pained noises at least.

Her eyes snapped over to Friderick when he finally spoke up with a flat finality. For a moment she blinked at him as he laid out how wrong they had been. His tone brooked no argument. Really she shouldn't have one. He was right on all counts. The pedigree was debatable in a sense though. At the moment, however, despite the giddy flutters in her stomach and chest she was inclined to agree. If she felt such pain each time she wasn't entirely sure if she would want to again. Like getting took drunk. It was all fun and joy until the following morning. Even still...it seemed well worth it to her. Never mind the idiotic rules society had given.

"Did it ever occur to you I don't care about your pedigree?" She asked. "Since the day is not yet out we can still talk about it. Those were your words," she added quickly in case he tried to tell her to stop talking about it. "Furthermore, like other things in our society, it seems...hardly fair that men get to enjoy such...ehm...things while women have to hide it like some...some filthy secret." Part of her was steadily growing angry with him and his sudden attitude. It wasn't as if she had raped him for heaven's sake! He had been perfectly willing. "How many brothels have you visited hmm? Enough to at least know what you are doing, unmarried man."

"But...perhaps you're right. While I..." She hesitated and felt a flush creep into her cheeks. Oh she had enjoyed it. Never mind the pain in the moment or the subsequent ache. She'd never known bliss like that before. "...I don't think this is conducive to training. You could have been a little gentler at least," she mildly complained, trying to adjust her seat to stop the constant aching throbs. "Does it...hurt for men as well?" The question was asked in a soft growl as she still tried to find a comfortable position. "If it doesn't then this is hardly fair and maybe you're right to abstaining."
 
Lady Jacqueline answered his comments with the same usual rebellious banter she was becoming known for. The rules, the laws, the society norms set down for hundreds and hundreds of years, she shoved aside as one might the bone of a chicken. She might be bold and brash to take on the world like that but she was still young and inexperienced to its ways. The world was a large place and almost every facet of it was set against it. While it was commendable that she would try and break out in some degree, such as being a knight, going against the entire thing was a whole different affair, not one that Friderick was going to sign up for. It wasn’t his place to question and overthrow it, even when it had been…detrimental to him in the past.

Friderick hardened his jaw at the question of how many brothels he had visited. Not a few, would be the answer. But the women there were happy, or so it seemed, to go against the society demands for them. And they accepted it wasn’t an easy choice. But they knew what they were getting into. What did Lady Jacqueline know? As a noble, she had a lot more to lose than simple baseborn women with no other opportunities in life.

But then the talk turned to last night and his…conduct towards her. Perhaps he had been overboard and he had seen signs of her soreness and heard the whimpers from exertions that should have been commonplace. Had he truly romped her that hard? He did not know. “Don’t change the topic.” Friderick said back to her almost before she finished the word abstaining. “It’s not my place to educate a woman in the ways of…sexual intercourse.” He said, cringing that he had to say something so uncouth to a Lady like her. But he had given her an education, a very fierce and passionate one, last night. And no, it did not hurt for him. In fact, she had a point. It would only hurt for men after repeated couplings, many of them, whereas it would hurt for a woman almost immediately if she was inexperienced to it. That would change in time for her but…he wasn’t going to tell her that. Because it wasn’t going to happen between them again. Right?

“You might not care about my rank, but your father, your mother, and everyone who is worthy of your hand will. I will not fight them all. I may as well ride off a cliff if that be my aim. And if you try and decide it for me, Lady Lancaster, then I shall make it my point to ride off the next ridge we encounter because it’ll turn my entire future dark with the clouds of conflict. So you will behave yourself with such talk around others, even in your disguise.” Friderick told her briskly and with no small degree of sarcasm.

“It is not my place or yours to challenge the ways of society. It was decided this way by people a lot wiser than you and me, who knew full well after long decades of experience what the roles shall be. If women were meant to fight, rule, and dominate, wouldn’t we see more examples of it across the continent? Yet I see none. Women preserve themselves for the finer things in life, like healing, upbringing, and the rare privilege of bringing life into the world. Men can afford to be more wastrel. You’ve seen how we are. We do not thrive as well as your sort does.” Friderick explained to her, casting a glance to the heavens as if seeking some sign that this teaching, which he had been ingrained with all his life, was correct. There was no sign. Not a cloud. Not a bird. Or anything else that was…divine. He sighed and looked forward again.

“And…I apologize, Lady Lancaster, if I hurt you last night. I was too caught up in the moment.” Friderick added softly. Because it was so good. But he wouldn’t get to rectify it, because they certainly weren’t going to be doing it again. “When we stop tonight, we do not have to train if you aren’t up for it. You should rest.” I’m well aware of my size but I seemed to have forgotten last night. Still, a flicker of a smile quirked on his lips at the memory. Oh, he had given her quite the tumble, that was for sure. And they had been some very powerful orgasms for them both. But that was wrong.
 
Jacqueline should have expected such a retort from Friderick. Despite everything the night prior he was still steadfastly dedicated to ‘normalcy.’ It frustrated her to no end he stuck to it, as if that were the only true way. After that night she had expected, or at least hoped, that he might take her side a little more. Should their perceived ranks really matter? It wasn’t like he was a commoner. Of course that line of thought was hypocritical. She wished she understood his real thoughts behind it all. Did he really think it all had been one big mistake? Her anger with him showed in grinding teeth and white knuckles on the reins. Oh how she wanted to smack his thick head with the flat of her blade! Angry and frustrated enough she didn’t have a retort at first.

His offer, however, to take a rest that night was met with an annoyed huff. Yes she hurt, her body still aching fiercely, but she couldn’t let him think her weak. If she did she would just be proving his inane point! “I will require no such rest,” she snapped back at him. His gentler tone did little to assuage her irritation with him. Arguing with him would be as futile as screaming at a tree so she simply fumed silently, her mind in full scale conflict. There was part of her that truly thought his mind might have been changed. He’d tossed aside nearly every belief he espoused in the past few days; his actions completely at odds with everything he was saying. “You are a very frustrating man,” was all she managed to say with a long, heaved sigh.

Just as she had snapped at him she was determined to continue on with training. That night, and many to follow, they were more careful. Never too close even when training. Within a day or two Jacqueline’s body forgot the pain of that night and ferociously remembered everything else. Few hours passed where she didn’t wonder if he thought the same. Remembering every savory detail of that night and wanting more. She stayed careful to take no action though and try to ignore the burning need. Trying to suppress those feelings made her unusually silent and cross with him. It made for a strained journey, at least on her part. Not even knowing where his own thoughts were only drove that red hot iron deeper.

The better part of a fortnight was taken to arrive to the convent. A massive, imposing structure half buried into the side of the cliffs overlooking the sea. The air was chill and briny. Though they were received with a surprising warmth from the sisters there, all garbed in their flowing robes and wimples. The horses were given good shelter and they ever had a section of the convent cordoned off for male visitors. During the daylight Friderick would be free to walk about the ground. When the final bells for sleep were rung he would have to stay in that area until the morning bells woke them. Once their gear was stored in stark, plain rooms they were taken for a meager meal with the Mother Superior.

“Such strange company,” she said with raised brows at the pair. The woman was older and spindly, like an aged willow. “Baron Alnerwick and his…squire. Not just any squire, a Lancaster…but the daughter. Very curious.”

Jacqueline cleared her throat awkwardly. “These are…strange times. Mother superior I hate to be so forward but…there is a matter I had hoped you might…assist with.” The Mother said nothing in response; her brows quirked up again curiously. “We, well, I had hoped that…well I remember a time you had asked my father for stores for the coming winter.”

The Mother gave a short, scathing scoff, “yes and was rebuffed quite quickly.”

“Yes, well, I was hoping that, in exchange for a goodly amount of provisions, you might be inclined to assist me with something.” Again there was silence, the Mother waiting for her to go on. “You see Ser Friderick has agreed to tutor me but, of course, that’s rather unheard of so…”

“So first you are disguised as your brother, clearly, who is…?”

“Jacque is at a Monastery though I do not know which one. His calling was to our Lord.”

At least that made the stern looking woman smile a little, “bless him in his journey then. But you, yours was to…be a knight then? Ride and fight like a man. Go against everything women are taught that is good and right in this world?” Her tone became darker, brows furrowing and eyes narrowing. Jacqueline felt an awkward pang in her chest, a rush of guilt and fury mingled in one.

“And why is it that my brother’s calling is more noble simply for his gender?” Jacqueline demanded.

The Mother blinked a moment, brows raised, before laughing. “You misunderstand me child. We do not pick the paths the Lord chooses for us. It is a strange one He had laid for you and the Baron I will agree.” Her dark brown eyes snapped over to Friderick. “You agree to this then? To guard this grave secret and train a young woman in the knightly arts? I wonder why…I’ve not met many men who do such things without a price in mind.” Her long, spidery finger tapped together in her curiosity to Friderick. “What do you have to gain from this?”
 
She did not require rest so Friderick did not give it to her. When they made camp that night, they trained, arduously, for a hour or so more. It was fitting in a way, for in true combat there was no chance for such rest or relaxation no matter how sore one might be. And it proved to be a good exercise in endurance and stamina in regards to whatever Jacqueline might be feeling. That was his doing as well. It was hard not to think about the causes, when it came so vividly at night in his dreams and the urge so needlingly in the morning, when his shaft rose with his awakening. And such visible proofs whenever she struggled with the soreness. She was the one who wanted more. It was astonishing really and laid cracks in the foundations of the walls he tried to raise against it.

Traveling brought little obstacle or trouble to them. Two weeks they traveled, with sparring every morning and every evening to hone her skills. Whomever they passed did not suspect a thing, despite the panging of his heart in worry and anxiety that one should identify Jacqueline as being who she was not; a boy in training as a squire. At first glance by others, it was believed and not even expected. They were courteous, Friderick and Jacqueline, to whoever they encountered but with each other there was always a terse silence or tension. Commands were brisk. His instructions brooked no argument. After all, he could still very much renege and take her back to her fate for such a transgressive lie and falsehood she was perpetuating. Yet onwards they went.

Finally, they reached the convent in question. How Jacqueline was to maintain her illusion among her own gender, he could not fathom. He left the dealings to her. This was her scheme. Time to live and die, figuratively, by her hopes and ambitions.

They were well put up there, though Friderick as a man soon found himself occupied with various chores that proved too arduous or too crass for the sisters of the convent. He helped to chop wood, shift heavy furniture, and clear away any refuse or debris that should wash up from the nearby sea. This he did without pay and mostly in compensation for being hosted there, as he could not bring himself to charge such a holy institution for such deeds. At night, he was isolated from the rest due to his gender. But for Jacqueline, she went in and made her case to the Mother Superior the following morning, with Friderick in tow and a bit behind. If Jacqueline could not garner the other woman’s trust, then it would relieve him of a great burden it seemed. Yet deep down, he strangely hoped for her success.

The Baron of Alnerwick showed solemn deference when they met with the Mother Superior, bowing his head at the mention of his name, hands folded behind his back as if he were no more a subordinate to her as every other Sister in the convent. Jacqueline proceeded to barter on their behalf, speaking of past dealings which the Mother Superior very scathingly answered to. Yet she didn’t rebuke or throw them out instantly, as Friderick had expected. She asked the logical questions, the whereabouts of her brother and location, to which Jacqueline answered and made her case in regards to her and his calling’s in life. The Mother Superior basically replied what Friderick had argued about but as Jacqueline answered, it seemed she finally found a kindred spirit among her own kind. She…agreed to this calling? Friderick was still astonished from the answer when attention was turned to him.

He glanced long and hard at Jacqueline before facing the Mother Superior, drawing in a deep breath. “I would have nothing to gain from this, if the calling was not correct. But I have seen God’s purpose for her before my very eyes. You are right that it is a strange thing for a woman to do, but this woman is clearly meant for it. I have seen her best many of my own kind, Mother. The arts to which I train her in do not go to ill-use or failure with her. She is skilled for it, as if born for such deeds. Indeed I do not doubt that soon she will surpass me, as she grows in years and discipline, along with the maturity that it brings. I was loathe to do this at first but I’ve come to see that she will come to this eventuality in the end, with or without me. If I am to gain anything, it will be pride. Pride in having such a student and pupil, so eager to learn, and so ready to help the needy, as a true knight ought to.”

Friderick came over to Jacqueline’s side and placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it assuringly, with a soft smile. She really was talented. And beautiful. Two very dangerous combinations, one that even he could not defend against for long. “I will guard this secret, with my life, and the virtue is already shown by her willingness to help you and your cause. Kindness begets kindness, does it not? To put her back in the chains of tradition would be to remove such virtue from the world. I believe it is better spent out there. And it is my honour to help guide it to its purpose, divinely mandated or not. I will help her. I ask that you help her as well.” Friderick said, removing his hand back to behind him, as he faced the Mother Superior.

Now it was his turn to be stern and unrelenting, for their cause, Knight and Squire together. “What say you then, Mother? Will you assist or impede us? Winter draws near and every hour counts.”
 
Both women stood, or sat in the case of the Mother, waiting for Friderick's answer. The mother's grey eyes bore into Friderick as if she could already divine the answer from him. Her face stoic yet rigid, hands delicately folded on the table before her in stark contrast. Jacqueline's eyes darted about the room, her breath suddenly uneven in her chest and her heart beating a frantic rhythm. She had been calm as a deep pond in speaking with the mother but Friderick's answer, for some reason, frightened her. He wouldn't bring up what had occurred between them as man and woman. Surely not. Never to be spoken of again in his own words. What he said could be pivotal in the Mother's decision of course. Then again she was always eager for words of praise from him, delighting in even the smallest grunt of approval.

A searing heat ravaged her ears as he spoke. Oh it was a long exposition as he was known for. Rather than a long lecture, how ever, he sung her praises more in that one speech than perhaps any word of approval combined in the two moons she had known him. Jacqueline fought hard not to smile with pure glee at the words. She fought even harder when his large, warm hand engulfed her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. For a moment she managed to keep her eyes away but her will broke and she glanced over. The will to keep a straight face shattered with that soft smile. Her lips broke into a bright, gleeful grin. If she had known that being put before a Mother Superior would bring about such commendations and smiles she would have done so far sooner.

The delighted, floating, eagerness cut short when he removed his hand and turned back to the Mother, his tone harsh and serious once more. Jacqueline turned back to the Mother, the receding delight rippling down her spine before disappearing. The Mother looked between the pair of them, her lips pursing to a line finer than embroidery thread. She said nothing for an age. Silence filled the sparse room, setting a heaviness about greater than any suit of armor.

"Do you know how the first order of Holy Sisters came to be?" The Mother finally said with a very slight tilt of her head.

Jacqueline blinked a moment. Of all the words she expected the Mother to speak these were not it. "P-pardon?"

"Women who broke from the rules of society," the Mother said as she slowly rose from her chair. "Women who sought a path of scripture, of learning, a path of God. Just a few at first, unwilling to become just anyone's wife, then more and more flocked to the cause. They were ridiculed at first. Mad. Barren. A select few souls burnt with accusations of witchcraft. Then the church condemned those actions and rose up the first true order of Holy Sisters." Her steps brought her around and she reached out her gnarled old hands. Jacqueline reached out and placed her small hand in the Mother's and the Mother waited for Friderick to do the same.

"The journeys chosen for us are many and varied but all according to His will. This will be a hard road to travel; a dangerous path. The world has many cruel fools in it and it is hard for them to accept change. Tread lightly and do not let this guise slip else you may meet the same fate as my sisters of old. We will help you on this path and not just for the promised cart of winter supplies," she added with a toothy grin and a rickety squeeze to their hands. "What ever pride or glory you seek and attain I hope you grant your good fortunes to our Lord and do so in His name."

Jacqueline's heart stopped a moment, her ears ringing with the tolling of bells, green eyes wide and staring. In a rush her sensations returned and she grasped the Mother's boney hand to kiss her knuckles. "I shall never forget this Mother Superior. This convent shall never want for supplies."

The Mother chuckled lightly and kissed Jacqueline's brow. "Go with God my child and do so with haste, the markets are not endless," she said with an amused yet sly grin before turning to Friderick. She waved him to lean down, given his height, and kissed his brow as well. "You as well, Ser Friderick of Alnerwick. I would thank God for those broad shoulders if I were you, you have quite the burden to carry. If you leave now you should make it to the near town by evening."

Their horses had been well rested and fed. The pack horse could stay until their return. Jacqueline, as always, was quick to get them saddled and ready to go even with her mind a whirl of excitement. Once they were away she turned to Friderick with a bright grin. "I almost cannot believe she agreed! This is marvelous, wondrous." Not to mention being privy to all the things he had to say about her abilities. The day, in terms of thrill and happiness, perhaps topped the squire melee.

The Mother Superior had been correct. Following the south road for the entirety of the day brought them to a small town. Nothing large or complex with a singular inn where the locals would gather for drinking at the end of a long day. The folk were a quiet lot, neither friendly to or wary of the travelers. They were used to folk passing through their quaint shire from time to time. Markets and shops were closed up for the day by the time Friderick and Jacqueline arrive, the inn being the only place still open.
 
The silence that came after Friderick’s answer was not at all what he expected. Volume, whether in protest or support of his words, was what he anticipated. Instead the Mother Superior just watched them both, evidently weighing up what she saw with what she had just heard. What if she refused? Then Lady Jacqueline would not have her cover and he could no longer trained. That’s what he wanted right? Yet he felt in that moment a strange desire to pray. Pray for her acceptance and support. And when she finally spoke, it was to give a long winded response to her own, starting with a story on the foundation of her own Order. Jaqueline was not the first and would likely not be the last. Friderick could sigh. She seemed to be in support of this…breakage against society norms.

At her urging, he reached forward and placed his own stern hand within the boney one of the Mother Superior, which felt as if it had seen more combats than Friderick had in his entire lifetime. But she supported them. She promised her participated in this ruse and more. Friderick could only bow hi shead, while Jacqueline seemed to be in the grip of some emotional whirlwind. So dramatic as usual. He might have rolled his eyes. But they had what they sought. “Farewell to you, madam. We shall bring all that we can carry.” Friderick said in farewell. It was time to begin the new leg of their journey. Friderick, the Baron of Alnerwick, the knight, along with his squire, the secreted Lady Jacqueline of Lancaster, masquerading as her brother. There would be no lies between them anymore at least. And it seemed a great burden of guilt was lifted off his broad shoulders, leaving him strength to do what may come next.

“You’ve been very lucky in garnering sympathy.” Friderick merely commented on their circumstances. Through the masquerade, he could see her feminine excitement bubbling to the surface. Well, he supposed it was close enough to the boyish mirth obtained by males her age. “But this is only the beginning. Stay mindful of your present circumstances and don’t get too caught up with what the future holds. One mishap now will see it all shatter even harder. You understand me?” He warned her as they prepared the horses for the journey. A small cart was afforded to them. They should be able to bear a weeks load of supplies in one trek and a few of those should see the convent stocked until next spring. The Mother Superior was right. The markets weren’t endless and they needed to get a move on.

There were many small towns, hamlets, and other settlements not marked on most maps, because of their smallness and insignificance. Individually, they afforded little beyond being rest stops for travelers. They parked the cart next to the town inn and went on inside, where they could rest for the night after their triumph and plot the next journey. Well, Friderick would mostly be doing that, in his head. There were few other travelers in the tavern and most at the bar drinking or eating were locals stopping by for their evening fare. “Stabling for the horses, food and drink,” Friderick requested of the barkeep, “and two rooms, if you have them.”

“It’s all I have.” The barkeep responded drily and without much warmth in greeting the newcomers. “And be it to your lot to have to require a whole room for your precious selves. I got folk here who fit a half dozen souls in the space one of you high born need for yourself.”

“Careful with your insolence. You’re being paid for them, why bother?” Friderick warned in a quiet tone. Why was it such a big deal? He needed his quarters, so did a Lady. But ah, the barkeep didn’t think Jacqueline was a lady. She looked a boy to him. So Friderick then realized his request was in fact the insolent one, full of snobbery and arrogance.

“Yes but what if other travelers should come? I have no extra lodgings and I’ll have to turn them away, losing compensation on food, drink, and other services. I-“

“Alright, alright. One room is fine. I’m sure you have extra bedding.” Friderick gave up on arguing.

“There’s the floor. I’ll have a pillow and blanket sent up.” The barkeep answered.

“Don’t bother, I’ll use my own. The floor is just fine.” Friderick sighed.

“Grass is always softer, if you prefer.” The barkeep said with a shrug.

“Just give me my flagon of ale. And two cups.” Friderick demanded, already seeing the barkeep’s wife and daughters preparing up meals in the back rooms.

“Two? You mean for that twerp? You having him drink when he hasn’t even shaved?” The barkeep snorted, earning a few snickers from the other hard looking labourers in the tavern.

“Careful. The boy’s killed men your size and age.” Friderick simply warned, though he was answered with disbelieving snorts and scoffs. But he handed a decent sized amphorae of ale to Friderick, along with the two pints, and Friderick carried it to the table furthest from the bar, where they could have some privacy at least.

“Here’s to your victory, then.” Friderick said as he poured two cups. It would be a brief wait for their supper. “Tonight you can rest. No sparring. They have a bathing chamber and everything, which you can use. You can take the bed too in the chamber.” He said quietly to her, using that tone of obedience that he brought out when he was treating her like a Lady and not a squire. He was letting her go first to clean and prep for bed, before he would come, so as to be least disruptive.
 
The inn was lively, they always seemed to be. Jacqueline was struck by some amusement thinking of the inn she first met Friderick in. Just a turn of the moon and some ago. This adventure was certainly shaping up to be something she had never expected. She trailed behind Friderick as he headed to the bar. The surely looking innkeep certainly lived up to his appearances. Her eyebrows raised as he argued back about paying for two rooms. She glanced between Friderick and the man but held her tongue. While She and Friderick might know why two rooms were wanted the man just saw a knight and his squire who should be more than capable of sharing a room.

A small scowl crossed her brows with the order of ale and the innkeep’s response. Twerp. How rude indeed. Though Friderick was quick to defend the man didn’t seem to believe a word of it. Scoffing and muttering as he produced a large pitcher and two cups. While Friderick grabbed the pitcher she snatched up the two cups with a snort and a glare before following Friderick to the distant table. Quiet an isolated. The newest custom for them.

Jacqueline raised the glass with a small grin. Things really had been working out well for them. More so for her really. Despite the praise Friderick had been lavishing down between the convent and the innkeep she was still mildly convinced he did this with a heaping spoon of chagrin. “Our victory,” she corrected before taking a small drink of the ale. Still not her favorite with its bitter and harsh notes. Her head cocked as he spoke of bathing and sleeping. Of course he’d offer the bed up to her. Jacqueline heaved a small sigh. Part of her was grateful. A bed was certainly more comfortable than a floor. The other part was always annoyed when he insisted on treating her like a lady. “Very well, but next time we switch. It’s hardly right to simply pick and choose when you decided to treat me differently,” she said with an annoyed sigh. ”Seems to me being a boy is much simpler anyways,” she added before another sit of the ale. Of course there had been a certain perk to womanhood.

As ever she was slow with the ale having only finished half the tankard by the time food was arrived. Being small and a woman the effects were stronger, especially given their sparse meals on the road. Her cheeks were ever so slightly flushed when the food arrived and she was more than happy to dig right in to eat. With his offer of her bathing first she finished the meal as quickly as possible to let him finish eating while she bathed so he wouldn’t have to wait too long. She headed back to the bath house for an eagerly awaited soak.

The water was beautifully hot and soothing. She heaved a contented sigh once utterly submerged up to her neck. Lord in heaven it was bliss. Of anything from a life of comfort a hot bath was something she sorely missed. She was able to give herself a good, strong scrubbing until her skin was soft and pink. How she wanted to just longer in the warmth for hours. Though she knew she couldn’t and mustered the will to leave. Getting back to the room she was careful not to be seen and darted in quick as a scared rabbit. In the safe confines of the small room she dried herself off, ruffling her hair to help it dry. Being so short, however, it was quick enough to dry. It gleamed in the low light and was soft as a pup’s fur.
 
Our victory? Friderick didn’t feel too particularly victorious. To him, the real fight was just beginning. They only got permission to only just start it. Any celebration was premature and might jinx them in the long run. He still drank to her acclamation though. At the mention of her taking the bed, Jacqueline demanded that next time they switch, so as to not be treated unfairly. He supposed she had a point there, as his comment had been addressed to a Lady and not actually a young woman disguised as a boy. He ought to watch himself with those sorts of comments, lest he bring about the defeat to this so-called victory. “Don’t start with that here.” He merely mumbled, when she voiced how being a boy was simpler. Training, marching in the mud, dying in bloody spectacles, that was simpler to her? Yes, best not to get started at all. Especially with alcohol in the mix.

But there were worse things that could happen with alcohol in the concoction of whatever they were.

They ate relatively in peace and drank, though Friderick did most of that, as Jacqueline seemed to catch on an intoxication pretty quickly. It made more sense how fast she got drunk given the revelation that she was a girl. This sort of drinking was not conducive to her form. At least she ate like a boy, ravenously and without much pomp, and no one could ever suspect she was a lady with that style of munching. She went off to bathe, while Friderick finished off the food and drink, listening to whatever talk was about in the common room of the town inn. Not much in terms of geopolitics. It was mostly local ongoings and small doings, none of which interested him. There was no opportunity here for knightly work. They would be moving on come the dawn.

Some of the town labourers seemed to fall into song and cheer, in the final hours before they had to return to their homes for slumber before repeating their ordeal the next day. Nothing left for him here. He figured Lady Jacqueline had enough time to bathe by now so Friderick wrapped up at their table and got up to head on upstairs to the lodgings. He figured Jacqueline would still be in the bath and he could go on to their shared room, where he could gather up a change of clothing. He only had two or three outfits to change between on his travels. He came to the door, without knocking or checking, and immediately opened it to stride in. The door swung open, his boots came to an abrupt halt when he saw what was going on inside. Again. How did this happen again? How did he stumble onto Lady Jacqueline, naked, twice?

His jaw dropped as his eyes beheld her form and hair, before his mind snapped back to focus a half second later and he hurriedly shut the door behind him. He sighed and turned towards it, slapping his hand to his face and dragging it down his features wearily. And now…now it was in his head. Fueled by drink. The memories, the pictures, the vivid sounds and lingering sense of touch. Was it always going to be a tease? How could he persist in this duty when Jacqueline was there…so seductive and ravishing under her disguise? She had just bathed and he had seen her in her glory. How could he not after that?

“I thought you were still in the bathing chamber.” Friderick explained softly. It would be awkward and odd if he ran out of the room now to spare her indignity. That would give it all away. Men saw men naked all the time. Soldiers bathed in rivers and lakes together. Dressed and undressed in their barrack tents. Traveling knights and squires were bound to be exposed to one another. But when one’s squire was a woman? How did it translate then?

He remembered how tightly her insides had gripped him when he ravished her in the wilds.

He was slightly drunk. He wanted it. The evidence of that urge was starting to show. He turned from the door and decided there was no point in trying to conceal such things anymore, her nakedness. This was the boy life after all. No secrets. He went to his pack and gathered up some cleaner trousers and tunic, though the tunic wasn’t needed as he usually slept shirtless. “The water is still hot, I presume. No matter.” Friderick said to himself. The bedroom was not very large. A cot pressed in the corner, with a small trunk at the foot, and a table wedged in the corner, leaving a very narrow space between the cot and wall for him to sleep. The only barrier between them would be the few inches elevation she would have on the cot. Given his size, they were still almost level with one another when they would sleep. Such temptation.

What about the temptation now? He could. Right now. All night. Why was he still here? Go bathe, you fool! But it was as if he was waiting some sign or proof of consent, something miracle perhaps, that would allow him to indulge. He shouldn’t, but he wanted to. It was impossible, yet he could. And he just might, if she kept looking at him with those feminine blue eyes.
 
The towel obscured her eyes as she ruffled the water from her hair. She froze when the hollow creak of the door echoed through the room. Curse it all! She should have locked the damn thing. In a sudden, jerking motion she whipped the towel off her head to cover herself. Never mind it was far too late. Though with her eyes unobscured she saw it was just Friderick. A long sigh of relief rushed between her lips, that receding jolt of fear sparking through her skin. "Could you..." she started but he turned and shut the door. Before he had turned she saw that look in his eye, that little something behind the shock of stumbling in on her naked once again. Well he had seen her nude enough by now, it should hardly be shocking.

"So I've gathered," she said with a crooked grin as she at least gave him the courtesy to wrap the towel around herself. When he turned his...reactions to the sudden intrusions were painfully obvious. Jacqueline shivered at the reminder of that night in the woods. Though he had decreed it never to happen again. It shouldn't, really and truly but by God...it was hard not to hope. She watched him as he went to his pack to retrieve fresh garments. "I should think so, I tried not to linger too long," she said with a small shrug.

She knew she should ignore it. Never mind the looks from him or the tightening of his britches. It wasn't right. Right? Never mind that society forbade it, she didn't give much thought to the approval of society. Friderick had done much for her already, taking on the burden of her secret with her. It wasn't right to ask for more from him; but by God she wanted to ask for more. Not unlike him her body warmed up to those looks, eager and wanting. She'd long forgotten the pain. Heaven above she needed to think of anything else but that tingling, excited want dancing across her skin. He needed to hurry on to his bath before she utterly lost her mind.

Far too late. Her mind snapped with decision. The towel dropped to the ground as she stepped forward while he fished around his bag. She took the opportunity of any surprise to press her hands to his jaw and brought her lips to his. Short and fierce, a kiss not unlike it's giver. She pulled back after just a moment and huffed a serious sigh, her eyes locked onto his. Searching. Curious. "I'm sorry," she said resoundingly unapologetic. "I know...it's far too much to ask as I already ask a lot of you. Go and take your bath if you prefer," she said in a calm, serious tone as she pulled her hands from his face.
 
She wasn’t angry about his intrusion. Was she ever angry about it? Friderick thought it would be a reaction of indignity and screaming bloody murder. Instead, Lady Jacqueline was so calm and collected about it. He thought he could hear a smile in her tone. What was so funny? He had looked upon her in the most intimate fashion, and while they had done worse before, he wasn’t planning on doing so again. Right? While it was most appealing, it was not appropriate. He could not, but he wanted to, yet he could not. Should not! The battle raged like a firestorm meeting a blizzard, hot and then cold. But the conflict proved irrelevant as another force swept through that field of conflict, wiping it all away in an instant.

It was little Jacqueline, turning his face, and kissing him. Passionate. Rousing. His own lips and tongue fell into the dance almost instinctively and all the fierce debate in his mind was silenced. Of course she wasn’t angry. She desired it! And so did he. But did that make it right? Perhaps that would be a matter of thought for after, when it was done feeling so good.

She drew back and apologized. Pretended to apologize, Friderick fathomed. Her blue eyes were so…desirous. She did indeed ask a lot of him but when compared to what he would soon be doing to her? It seemed so small a thing. She pulled back but even before she could finish voicing her full apology, his hands were already slapping hard to either side of her hips, gripping her firmly, and yanking her right back. This was no curious, chaste approach of mouths. Her body was brought right into his, with thin fabric separating them, as he swallowed her mouth in a hot kiss and fought to consume her in a rowdy battle of lip and tongue. It was not enough though. His hands curved around her naked rear and down under, to give him a strong grip as he lurched her up and latched her body to his. Her completely naked body. Holding her up, face to face, he could kiss her how he liked. And it was long and sensuous, up there half in the clouds. Or in their case, close to the ceiling.

Maybe he should say something. Say something about the morals or even about the safety of doing this…here. She was supposed to be a boy after all. And if such noises were heard, others might assume something else. But Friderick, feeling her ravishing body, so toned and slender, pressed to his own bulk, he frankly didn’t care. Deal with it after. “We should make good use of that bath then.” Friderick murmured when he detached his mouth from hers, speaking an inch away from her face. That was all he managed to say. Failure. Nothing about morals or caution. He set her down, took off his shirt to cover up her front, and turned to step out of the room, one hand behind him to tug her along.

The hallway was clear. Friderick went first, being but a shirtless knight, and opened the door to the bathing chamber. He ushered her inside, came in, and shut and locked the door. He hurriedly undid his breeches, until he was as naked as her, and picking her up again, stepped into the lukewarm bath. Water sloshed over the sides but that was okay. His hands were still under her body as he continued to kiss her, letting himself be lost in the passion. Reality was shut outside now. Here was dreamland and whatever they wished to make of it.

He put her back down and spun her away from him, his upright manhood against her rear, his arms about her torso. He knew what he wanted, what a man wanted out of any woman really. His strong pawlike hand snaked down her front and came over her sex, covering it entirely, while his middle finger stroked up and down the slit, before outright penetrating into her folds. At once his other hand shot up to cover her mouth, muffling her sounds, pressing her back towards the den provided by his broad chest and his head looming above. In this fashion, covering her mouth, covering her sex, he began to pleasure her, grinding against her backside while his finger drove in and out of her depths. Might as well have her wet and ready, before he wrecked her again. A most pleasing conclusion to strive for, however.
 
For the briefest of moments she thought that was the end of things. Flat refusal. Probably another lecture. Yet she barely finished her sentence when his rough, strong hands grasped her hips and yanked her close. Blue eyes shot wide as his mouth engulfed hers in his wordless answer. Jacqueline grinned into lips, her body melting and melding against him. A fierce battle ensued with the clashing of lips and tongue. Little arms reached up to wrap around his neck as his hands slid down her back side. With the usual ease he hefted her up to his height. Strong legs locked around his waist as he held her up while her arms gripped his shoulders and back. Heat flared in her body, shivering just a little from chill but mostly from excitement. His commands of never again seemed as flimsy as wet parchment. Lucky for her.

Jacqueline drew in a low, sharp breath as he broke from her, still holding her up with ease. Her eyebrows rose with the suggestion before she grinned some. "Better use I should say," she agreed with a sly grin. Her legs released him as he set her down on the floor. She cocked her head at him as he yanked off this shirt and dropped it over her. While confused she was hardly going to complain, suddenly engulfed in his masculine scent. With her hand buried in his she followed him out to the hall. Both whipping their heads around like children off to some mischief. Jacqueline trotted along with him to the bathing chamber, stifling giggles but unable to wipe a broad, fool grin off her face.

Safe inside, the door bolted, the were quick to throw off their clothes before crashing together once more. Once more her feet left the floor. Lord above how she loved how easily he could toss her around like that. The water was still decently warm as he sloshed them into the tub. Her feet found purchase as he set her down once again. Though she didn't expect to suddenly be spun about once again, her feet skittering a moment before his arms wrapped around her. Thick coils of warm around wrapped firmly around her and she shivered with a trilling little giggle. The giggle eased into a low, appreciative hiss as his warm hand covered her heated core, stroking gently at first until driving a finger in. Her lips parted, teeth bared with a high moan suddenly stifled by a firm hand clasped over mouth. The moan reverberated against his palm as she was pinned against his broad front, feeling his length grind to her backside.

Pinned. Trapped. God why did enjoy that? Hard to fathom as warm, rushing rivulets coursed the veins and prickle the flesh. She tried, she really did, to keep her sounds hushed. Certainly quieter than in the tent but perhaps more due his meaty palm pressed to her face. Her body moved and wriggled with his, grinding back against his length and down towards his hand. One little hand gripped the arm that pinned her to him and muffled the song he coaxed from her, nails scraping and digging into the muscled flesh. The other lay against his hip, mirroring the griping and scrape of the others.

Friderick got what he sought and more. It wasn't long until his hand was wet and glistening, her breath coming in short, rasping gasps against and over his hand. So neatly held, nearly immobile, and the frightened worry gone her body responded to him with a hot ferocity. By God it felt wonderful and they had barely begun. Jacqueline let her mind slip away to nothing but the feeling of Friderick against her. Nails bit harder, breath came in short and sharp, little squeaks and moans grew in pitch. She had barely noticed that building pressure, that only recently familiar need, until her body went still. Her nails dug into his flesh with a long, high squeak before it all came tumbling down in a torrent of fire. Stars fell and danced as she devolved into a body wracking shiver, soaking the coaxing hand. It was luck he had such a grip of her, she wasn't certain her legs would hold her up in the moment. Her chest heaved as she huffed and panted against his hand.
 
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