Notes: I don't really know what I am doing, I've written this novelette of sorts, and I just wanted to post it online for people to read, but I feel completely overwhelmed by all the different sites, many of which I hear are empty wastelands these days. I have no idea if anyone is interested in reading serialised fiction on Tumblr, but I have this thing, so I figured why not throw it on here and see what happens.
Please note that this story does contain nsfw scenes, but I write them relatively non-explicit.
It was when the days were just becoming warm again that Ireen arrived in the village.
They called it Valley Of The Willow because of the 200-year old tree in the middle of the town square.
Brian was tending to the herb garden in front of the doctor’s house, his sleeves rolled up and his hands covered in dirt, when he first saw her.
She was very pale, and her skin was plastered with freckles everywhere. Her hair looked almost white in the light of the sun. While she was obviously young, there was nothing naive to her gaze. Slung around her shoulder was a heavy bag, and her delphinium eyes were scanning the houses to both her sides. Finally, they landed on him.
She approached him and he could see that she was wearing a dark green dress with a grey woollen shawl slung over it, to keep the cold away.
“Excuse me,” she spoke in a bright, clear voice, “do you know where I can find John Adderly’s house?"
“Yeah,” he rose to his knees, wiping the muck off his hands. “You’ll have to pass through there, to the square with the big ol’ tree and then straight across from that is the blacksmith’s. You cannot miss it, because of the massive, smoulderin’ oven outside it.”
As he turned to leave, he yelled after her, “What’s it you want of him?"
She looked back towards him, clearly taken aback by his blunt manner.
“Sorry, it’s just that very little folk pass through here. I’m curious.”
With a smile, she took a step in his direction.
“He’s my uncle, I am to stay with him.”
“My father is sick, there is no one else who can look after me until he is better.”
“So you’re not married then?”
That had him chuckling to himself.
The answer was clearly not convincing, but he had piqued her interest.
“How old are you?” she asked.
“Twenty-two, and you?” he instantly retorted.
“Ah, so clearly we’re a couple of spinsters then.”
A laugh escaped her. It was a pleasant and warm sound.
“Do you live here?” She pointed at the house behind him.
“Yeah, but it’s not my house.”
A crooked smile bloomed across her face as they engaged in their rapport.
“Why do you live in it then?”
He laughed a bellowing laugh.
“No. I just clean, book appointments, tend to the herbs…”
Her gaze traveled over the plants, his sun-marked hands and dirty clothing.
“Do you like living here?”
She raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Just seems like a bit of a boring shithole, is all.”
Now it was on him to be taken aback by her bluntness.
“My word, I shall live to hear such a thing from a lady’s mouth.”
While her head was shaking, she could not contain a small snicker.
“Don’t get yourself in a twist over it. I don’t think I am much of a lady anyway.”
He could not help but grin.
“Believe me, there’s far worse things for a place to be than boring.”
“Hard to imagine,” she replied “I desperately hate to be bored. Does your doctor have a cure for that?”
He turned around, plucked a Pulmonaria blossom and presented it to her.
“You’re cheeky”, she grinned and tucked it behind her ear, “Right, I best be off now. My uncle will be expecting me.”
As she walked away, he once again yelled after her, “Goodbye, Ms...?"
“Ireen,” she yelled back.
“Right Ireen, I’m Brian.”
Until she turned the corner towards town square, his eyes followed her.
Brian broke the kiss to ask a question that had been burning on his tongue.
“Did you meet that girl that arrived here this morning? Ireen?”
“Huh?” Thomas muttered, only halfway there. “Yes. She’s Johnny’s niece, right?”
His arms were wrapped around Brian, with his fingers painting small circles on his back.
“Yes,” Brian murmured. “There is something different about her. She’s so…outspoken.”
“Good on her,” Thomas said, quickly directing his attention back to Brian’s shirt.
“Mh? Of course, you don’t need to ask.”
And so the other did. He trailed down his torso, kissing it, and Brian let his hands run through his dark hair because he knew he liked that. They had been sharing a bed for three years now.
Pretty much since he had shown up in this village, a ragged 19-year old with matted hair and horrible manners.
Thomas on the other hand, had been the well-spoken, educated apprentice of the village doctor.
His face was defined and gentle, with high brows, cheeks and a nose that unlike Brian’s own, had never been broken. He'd taken him in, into his house, his community, had fed him, clothed him and fallen in love with him him.
And yet, as he leaned back against the mattress, Brian’s mind kept wandering back to the girl with the almost white hair and the freckles all over her face.
Thomas must have realised that he had gone somewhere else. Quickly, he focussed his attention back on the here and now.
“Don’t be daft, c’mere.” He pulled him into a deep kiss. Thomas’ tongue was quite big, he’d always thought, but it was a well-known sensation.
As they came apart, he murmured in the other man’s ear in a way he hoped was alluring, “Go on.”
A soft moan escaped him as Thomas entered him. It didn’t hurt, it never did. Thomas never did anything by force.
After he came inside of him, Brian laid down on the young doctors’ chest.
It was not until he drifted off that his dreams took him elsewhere once more.
He saw her again the following day. She was sat on a chair outside of Johnny the blacksmith’s house, smoking a pipe, blowin’ circles into the air, as if locked into the a secret competition with the old oven.
Cradling the bottles of milk he had picked up from the market, he made his way over to her.
“Good mornin’, Ms. Ireen,” he said, tipping his hat.
She gave him one of her crooked smiles.
“Morning, Brian. Just Ireen will do, though.”
“What are you up to, at this fine hour?”
“Not much,” she sighed, “I was hoping to lend uncle John a hand, but he says there’s not much to do today.”
“That dreaded boredom,” he teased, but she nodded in earnest.
“Yes,” a cloud of smoke escaped her lips. “I take some small pleasure in smoking when I know my father would not like it, but I’m afraid the novelty of it has already begun to wear of.”
Suddenly, she eyed him very keenly.
“Can I come with you to the practice?”
“I don’t see why not,” he smiled.
He pushed open the door with his foot. The two men inside were bent over their medicine station, grinding down herbs and discussing dosages. Their heads rose when they heard Brian and Ireen enter.
“Ireen, may I introduce, the Doctors Bonham.”
Thomas gave her a kind, surprised smile, the old doctor looked less than pleased.
“She asked if she could come to the practice with me,” Brian explained.
“Yes,” Ireen exclaimed, apologetically. “I’m afraid I’ve grown rather idle, not knowing many people in the village yet, and so when Brian told me about your practice, I hoped that I could watch for a bit. Or assist, even. I apologise, should my presence be a nuisance.”
“Not at all,” Thomas insisted. “You’re more than welcome.”
His uncle did not seem like he agreed, but to be fair, Brian was certain that the majority of this disdain stemmed from the sight of his own face, not Ireen’s.
There was not much love lost between him and the old coot, who liked to remind him every chance he got that no matter how many years passed, he was but an unwelcome guest in this house, even though Bonham himself did not even live in it anymore.
That, and there was the circumstance that he and Thomas had to sneak around the bastard, like thieves in the night, despite the fact that he was perfectly aware of the nature of their relationship.
Decency, Brian had learned, was when you pretended that things were not happening in front of people who knew that they were.
It seemed like a waste of time to him, but he followed Thomas’ lead.
“What is it that you’re making?” Ireen inquired, leaning closer to the young doctor, her eyes following his hands as they worked.
“A balm to alleviate pain and swelling,” he replied, then said over his shoulder, “Brian, could you fetch me-“
Before the sentence was completed, Brian handed him the dried arnica and received a chuckle in response. He could feel both Ireen and Bonham observing the interaction, one with interest, the other with disgust.
Ireen proved herself to be quite the helpful pair of hands for the rest of the day, and a quick study at that.
Brian had a suspicion that she was using the practice as a means of acquainting herself with the townsfolk, who kept coming in and out of the house with their various ailments.
Once she and Bonham had gone, the remaining two stretched out in front of the fire.
“She’s kind,” Thomas ascertained. “And quick-witted.”
“I think so,” Brian agreed. Then, smug, he added, “The old coot did not seem to agree.”
Thomas rolled his eyes at that.
“I wish you would not call him that.”
“He calls you far worse,” was the dry response. “He thinks you’re foul.”
A deep sigh escaped the young doctor’s mouth at the old argument.
“That’s his prerogative.”
Brian shook his head. When Bonham called his nephew these names, it made him want to burrow his fist in what was left of the man’s teeth, the way they settled things where he came from.
But Thomas would just take the abuse, bathe his tormentor’s feet and cook him soup.
“Besides,” added the other, ripping him from his ugly thoughts, “he is the only family I have.”
“Forgive me,” Brian sneered, “if the importance of family evades me.”
Thomas took his hand and let his fingers trail along Brian’s skin.
“This,” he said, “this is family.”
Brian caught his hand pinned it to the floor with his own.
“No,” he said, leaning closer, “this is something else.”
You could not count on family. He could always count on Thomas.
“What is it, then?” Thomas asked as their faces were mere inches apart.
Instead of answering the question, they kissed.
“I love you.” Thomas said.
“I love you too.” Brian said, reflexively.
“Do you want to go to the pub?” he added, knowing both their bodies were probably to exhausted to make it out the front door.
Yet it was not exhaustion that he saw in the other’s eyes when he smiled and shook his head.
