Crossroads Tavern
This story contains sexual themes and should not be viewed by anyone under the age of 18. All characters are created and copywritten by Radical Gopher
_____________________________________________________________________________________
CROSSROADS TAVERN
The only light burning at that hour came from a small building at the edge of the main road. It wasn't much of a building, but then the village wasn't much to look at either. There were perhaps two-dozen houses scattered about. Mixed in with them were a combination blacksmith's and livery stable, a general store, a meeting hall, which doubled as both a school and church, a jail and of course, a tavern inn. It was from here the light came.
Sylvia lifted the last plate from the soapy tub, dipped it briefly in a second one full of rinse water then dried and stacked it neatly on the counter. She smiled in satisfaction as she brushed an ebon lock of hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand. All done! The white furred mink brushed her hands quickly on her apron before picking up a pitcher of chestnut brown ale and strolling happily into the main room
There was only one customer at this late hour. He sat quietly at a corner table, savoring a small bowl of vegetable stew. Tall and lean, the old black furred stallion smiled as the tavern girl refilled his tankard. Streaks of gray ran through his mane and peppered his muzzle. He wore a long-sleeve, green tunic, gray trousers and a simple brown leather vest. Leaning against the table was a longsword, scabbard and belt. A long, hooded black cloak hung from a nearby peg on the wall. Despite his age he possessed a quiet strength that radiated from him in such a way as to warn trouble off without much effort on his part. It was a useful trait to have for a village warden.
"Staying up late again, Nathan?" the mink asked.
"Ever remember a time I didn't?" the equine responded.
"Nope! Not unless you were locked in a cell. Old timers say that when you were a young stud, you generally spent more time behind bars than in front of them."
He chuckled. "Wet behind the ears and stupid. That was me all right."
"Aw... They never called you stupid," she chided. "Just said you were a little short on thinking things through. Some would call it enthusiasm."
Nathan looked over at the young, beautiful mink as she picked up a broom and began sweeping. "Not much difference between stupidity and enthusiasm. They can both get you killed."
"Well, you ain't dead yet, so you must've done something right."
He took a sip of the ale and watched as the innkeeper effortlessly moved around the room, humming softly as she worked. Each turn and push of the broom reminded him of a waltz. "I've never seen anyone as happy about their work as you, Sylvie. Don't you ever slow down?"
"Don't know as I should," she replied happily. "Lots to do before I can turn in. Besides, it never feels like work. Not as long as I've got a tune going through my head."
"Ever a time you don't hear a tune?"
She paused quietly for a moment then shook her head. "None I can remember." She put the broom aside and started dusting the furniture. "Seems like I've always heard some sort of melody, though it changes depending on my mood."
"That's the sort of thing one hears from traveling minstrels, the good ones that is. Maybe you should be writing these tunes down; putting lyrics to them."
The mink huffed slightly. "Flatterer. I don't think I could sit still long enough to put them on paper, even if I could read or write music." She finished the dusting and went behind the bar for a moment, reappearing with a small mug of her own. Gliding over to the equine she pulled out a chair and plunked the mug down on the table, pouring a drink of ale from the pitcher for herself. She sat down and delicately took a sip of the brew. Looking up at the equine she gave him her most coquettish smile.
"You know, you're quiet handsome for an equine."
He looked over at her. "Don't you mean for an equine my age?"
"You're not old. Distinguished, maybe, but not old."
"I'd call it grizzled more than anything else," he replied winking at her.
"I was paying you a compliment," she chided him gently.
"Thank-you my ladyship," the stallion replied.
"Ladyship indeed," she huffed. "I'm no lady, I'm an innkeeper, so was my husband and my father and my grandfather, and so on and so on. We work for a living."
"So you do, which lends character and strength to a charming and beautiful lady."
"Now who's being overly lavish with the compliments?" She gazed deeply into the stallion's eyes. Something there caused the music in her head to take on a melancholy tone. A somber look crossed Sylvia's face. "Don't you ever get lonely, Nathan, late at night?"
"I've had a lot of practice not thinking about it," he said.
"That's sad," Sylvie whispered. "It's been three seasons since my Daffad passed away and I sometimes miss not having a warm bed to crawl into. How do you get by?"
"It's hard to miss something you never had."
"Never?"
"Oh I've had the occasional dalliance, the wine, women and song, but nothing like what you and Daffad had," he replied. "Besides, I've got my work to keep me busy."
"I know what you mean," she muttered quietly. A puzzled expression crossed her face. "Come to think of it, just how long have you been a road warden?"
He silently rubbed a three-fingered hand along his chin. "In all honesty, I don't really know. I stopped counting the seasons so long ago I think your great-grandfather was still a whelp."
Sylvie chuckled. "You're pulling my leg again, aren't you?"
"Maybe," he replied. "Maybe not. I've had my fair share of dealing with warlocks, mages and the like. Where magic's concerned, anything's possible."
A knocking on the tavern door interrupted the equine. Sylvia started to rise, but he waved her back into her chair. "You've been on your feet all evening. Why don't you relax a spell, I'll answer it."
Pushing his tankard to one side, he stood, buckled on his sword and straightened his tunic before calmly walking to the door. He reached it just as there was a second knock. Nathan opened the spy hole and looked out. Before him there stood three figures. The first was a tall, regally dressed male wolfen with fur, black as the night and yellow eyes. He was accompanied by two smaller females, both as grandly dressed as the male. One had dark gray fur and the other was white from ear tip to tail.
The wolf smiled disarmingly, his eyes reflecting moonlight that wasn't there. "My companions and I have traveled far and are in need of rest and refreshment," he said in a voice flavored by a thick, cultured accent. "Invite us in, won't you?"
Nate focused on the wolfen's cloak pin, avoiding direct eye contact and he shook his head. "No!"
"NO?" sputtered the wolfen in surprise. "What do you mean, No?"
The equine grinned at the traveler's obvious distress. "I mean no... nada... nyet... nien. Your mind tricks won't work on me. Go peddle your vampirisms someplace else."
"You dare defy me? My power is as eternal as the night. You cannot refuse my will."
"I'll refuse anything I damn well please," Nate replied. "I am not going to let you cross this threshold. Oh, and while we're on the subject, as the duly appointed warden of this township and of this valley, I hereby deny you entrance to any building found therein, and that includes every chicken coop, stable, barn and outhouse."
"You don't have that kind of power," the Wolfen snarled.
The equine shrugged. "You're welcome to test that theory, if you like. But it's only four hours until dawn. You'd be better served looking for a nice, dark cave to shelter in, preferably one without any bears. They tend to eat carrion."
Hissing, the three figures whirled away, vanishing into smoke. Sylvia came up behind the equine as he closed the spy hole.
"Who was it?" she asked.
"Some night stalkers," Nathan replied returning to his table. "The gateway must be open again. Come sunrise I'll gather my charms and close the damn thing. In the meantime it's best you let me answer the door, at least until morning."
"I suppose that means you'll be spending the night," she said slyly.
"I suppose..." the equine began. He was interrupted as the mink took his hand and started to lead him to the back of the tavern.
"Good, then you'll need somewhere to sleep." Nathan followed without argument as she led him down a short hallway. To the left was a large door that led to the basement storeroom. The door on the right was a little more ornate and had a heavy lock on it. Sylvia stopped, pulled a large iron key from the pocket of her apron and unlocked the door, pushing it open with her foot so she wouldn't have to let go of the stallion's hand.
The room beyond was warm and inviting. Two large, solid-looking, wooden rocking chairs sat before a modest hearth. Between them was a small table complete with tablecloth, lace dollies and a small teapot. On one side sat of the sitting room sat a small, foldout writing desk and chair. A glass encased bookshelf filled with accounting books hung from the wall above it. On the other side of the room was a cabinet filled with an assortment of fine dishes, silverware, linens and towels.
There was a step up from the sitting room that opened into a large alcove, the centerpiece of which was a soft, oversized bed covered with linen sheets and a large, calico quilt. A large, double chifforobe decorated one wall and a keepsake trunk lay along the foot of the bed. There was a smaller alcove on the other side with a curtain that could be drawn across the opening. Within, Nathan could see a small wooden commode, atop which sat a blue porcelain washbasin and pitcher. A towel rack hung from the wall. Next to the bed sat a night table with a small lamp upon it. A long, brass curtain rod separated the two small rooms, from which hung a set of thick, blue curtains that were tied back. If need be, they could be used to separate the bedchamber from the sitting room.
The mink backed into the room, leading the hesitant equine in by the hand. He sniffed the air. It was scented with lilacs, and something else he thought, a musk or perfume that left him feeling oddly ecstatic. "Sylvia? What are..."
"Shhh!" she hissed softly, delicately as she let go and closed the door behind them
"Sylvie, I don't think...?
"Please Nathan. Don't think, just for one night." Her voice trembled slightly, caught between fear and need. "I wasn't joking earlier when I said I felt lonely. I've been feeling this way for some time, and tonight... with you... with your kindness and warmth it's just too much." She looked down at her fingers as they nervously danced together. "I don't have any family left. No real friends to speak of... except for you, Mary over at the General Store and Jason the blacksmith, and he's happily married."
"What about the rest of the villagers?" the stallion asked quietly.
"They're more acquaintances and neighbors than friends, and I enjoy their company well enough..." She stopped and tears began to form in her eyes. "Damn it Nathan..." she whispered. "I don't want to beg... Please don't make me, because I won't... I won't... I... I... I won't beg... you... you big, stupid, blind, insensitive..."
Suddenly the stallion understood. He knelt before her and wrapped his arms around the mink, pulling her in and kissing her firmly on the lips. Her arms came up and curled themselves around his neck. She leaned into the kiss, her tongue fluttering against his like a frightened butterfly. They held each other for several long minutes before pulling apart. Sylvia's head spun dizzily, the music within her becoming low, soft and seductive.
She kissed him again and felt Nathan's hands as they stroked the back of her neck, untying the top apron string. His other hand slowly moved down her back and undid the waist, then danced down to her tail, massaging its base and gently kneading her rear. She shuttered with anticipation and need. A soft moan rose from her throat. "Yes," she sighed, and again, "yes... yes."
They separated; Sylvie turned away from the equine and undid the strings of her bodice, which quickly found its way to the floor to lie atop the apron. Nathan gently pulled at the bit of blue ribbon that bound her ebon hair. Pushing it aside he kissed and softly nipped at the back of her neck. Taking his hands, the mink gently pulled them around underneath her blouse, resting them against her taught, flat stomach. Thick, strong fingers stroked their way upward through her silky white fur until they rested against her breasts. They gently enfolded the soft globes, brushing the nipples until they were stiff
Sylvia pushed her blouse over her head, shuddering once more as Nathan slowly kissed his way down her back. Turning around, she helped him peel his vest from his shoulders and undid the top of the equine's tunic. He raised his arms as she pulled the tunic out of his trousers, lifting it until it slid over his head, ears and arms.
He brought his hands down once more and enfolded the mink with them, pulling her in for another long series of kisses and nibbling at her neck. Her own hands busied themselves massaging the back of his neck and tangling themselves in his mane. Nathan dropped his head lower and began suckling and licking her breasts. His thick, nearly prehensile lips elicited yet another low moan from her. The mink's thick, silky tail slipped between his legs and began brushing against his crotch. She felt his pants tighten as his trapped penis began to slip out of its sheath.
Gently, sensuously wriggling free of his embrace, Sylvie firmly guided Nate to his hooves then knelt before him, unbuckling his sword belt and slowly, ever so slowly undoing his trousers. Her hands brushed across the top of his tail as she unbuttoned the tail flap and eased the pants down. Once freed, his rod began peaking over the top of his loincloth, which the mink quickly undid and cast aside. The scent of his arousal was like heady wine, feeding her own fires as she ran both her fingers and tongue along his ever-lengthening shaft.
The equine nickered softly as Sylvia's gentle ministrations caused him to swell until his penis seemed to throb in time to his pulse. He reached down and grabbed the mink by her ankles and wrists, lifting her up and draping her across the back of his neck. She squealed in laughter as he carried her over to the bed and tenderly laid her across it. He lay down next to her, unbound her ankle length skirt and slid it off, hanging it across the footboard. Both his hands began running up and down her legs, massaging both the inside and outside of her thighs.
Sylvie gasped and shuttered at this new attention. His hands were so big he could almost wrap one around each thigh, kneading and stroking her fur. They moved up to gently grasp her loincloth and his thumbs slid inside, brushing against the petals of her mound. They came away damp with her juices then moved up her body to rub her own scent on her nipples. Nathan brought his lips down once more, suckling and lapping at the nipples, then slowly, almost tortuously, be began kissing his way back down to her mound.
The mink began panting and moaning the lower he descended. He paused for a moment to lick and kiss at her naval, pressing his hands against her flat belly then resumed his slow movement south. Reaching her loincloth, the equine untied it, then brushed it back and forth across her mound before laying it aside. Her scent was everywhere now.
Nathan brushed her petals with his lips, kissing and suckling them as he had her teats. As he did he plunged his long tongue into her mound, rolling it around and stretching it, licking at the inside walls of her passage. Sylvia seemed to go mad, moaning, shuddering and squealing as he stroked her g-spot again and again. Moments later she arched her back and cried out in ecstasy, drenching the stallion's muzzle. He continued sipping and lapping her nectar, bringing her to climax a second time.
Desperate to feel Nathan inside her, the mink pushed him onto his back and positioned herself with her mound softly brushing against the tip of his shaft. She could feel the warm pre-cum as it coated her opening. Slowly, ever so slowly she pushed herself onto the equine's massive rod, taking him in an inch at a time. She paused only long enough to stretch herself before continuing her slow descent. She stopped when she had taken two thirds of him inside her.
Unable to slide any further down his massive cock, Sylvia wrapped both her hands around what was left and began sliding up and down. Nathan gritted his teeth. The mink was incredibly tight. Her slightest movements were pure rapture and the touch of her velvet hands devastatingly effective. He tightened his stomach trying to make the moment last as long as possible, but he knew he was fighting a loosing battle.
For her part Sylvia felt as if she were in heaven. She could feel the throb of the stallion's heartbeat through his shaft. Up and down, again and again, faster and faster the mink rode Nathan for all she was worth, trying desperately, as was he, to extend the moment and the sensation.
Nathan suddenly felt the mink spasm, squeezing him for all he was worth. Despite his efforts he couldn't hold back any longer and he exploded into her, releasing great spurts of hot seed in wave upon wave of pleasure. Sylvia moaned as she came once more. The equine filled her to overflowing, his cock pulsing again and again, seemingly without stop. Before she finished with the first orgasm she was hit with yet another. She writhed and bucked and cried out as the sensations washed away any thought but that of pure bliss. Shuddering one last time, she collapsed onto Nathan gripping at the fur on his chest.
Lying quietly together they could feel each other's heart beating in counterpoint to their own. The equine's cock slowly shrank, pulling free of the mink. Warm cum dribbled out onto his chest. A soft smile curled about her mouth as she whispered. "Thank-you, Nathan. Thank you." Closing her eyes she nuzzled up against the stallion's chin and began softly purring as she drifted off to sleep.
Oddly enough, Nathan didn't feel like sleeping. The sex seemed to invigorate him. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly alive. He looked up at a high window. Through it he could see the blackness of the night sky and a few scattered stars. He knew his purpose, his role in life as few did; yet sometimes the price paid for that certainty seemed awfully high.
Hours passed and as he watched the inky black of night was slowly replaced by the first timid hues of cobalt blue. He rose carefully from the bed, untangling himself from Sylvia. Pulling the quilt over the sleeping girl's form, he cleaned himself in the washbasin and quietly dressed. Picking up her clothes from the floor Nathan laid them out on the keepsake chest. He retrieved his sword and silently crept out of the inn. He went to the jail and picked up a small shoulder bag that sat next to his desk. Outside once more, Nathan looked into the brightening sky and focused on a nearby hill. He strode purposefully toward it, climbing its gentle slope with ease.
Reaching its crest, the equine found himself facing an ancient stone circle. Three of the four rough-hewn gateways still stood. The fourth had collapsed into a useless pile of shattered rock. Centered between them was a massive rectangular stone, larger than all the rest. Of the remaining gates the third one, the one that faced east, glowed slightly. This obviously was the portal through which the night stalkers had come. It would have to be closed if he wanted to keep anything else from wandering into his valley.
Placing his bag on a nearby stone, the stallion pulled out three items; a silver amulet, an ancient basalt knife with runes carved on it and a piece of chalk. He slipped the amulet around his neck and drew a series of magic symbols upon the stone of the eastern gate. He then looked toward the horizon. As the first rays of the sun touched the central stone Nathan drew the knife across the palm of his hand. Blood flowed freely from the cut. He placed his hand against the chalk symbols and began chanting.
"Aerapona iuv wuvi ?? keldiod. Aerapona tuv neropa va viyel oreik. Etoi strado? to Euporaia."
The symbols he had drawn on the stone vanished in a flash of light and the gate ceased to glow. He pulled his hand away from the gate. As always, the cut had sealed itself and vanished without a trace. Removing the amulet, Nathan carefully returned everything to the bag and closed it. Turning, he suddenly stopped short. Before him stood Sylvia, dressed in a loose-fitting nightgown and robe. Her bare feet were hidden by a mist that rose from the dew covered grass.
She walked quietly over to him and looked closely. Nearly all the gray had vanished from his mane and muzzle. "You weren't joking, about my great-grandfather, were you?"
"No," he said simply.
"How old are you Nathan, really?
"I'm not sure anymore," he replied, "two hundred fifty, maybe even three hundred seasons. The time isn't important. Guarding this crossroads is."
"The villagers all know to some extent what you do, your relationship to this stone circle. But I don't think anyone truly understands how long you've been doing it."
"No one except you."
"Yes," she nodded. She stood silently looking into his eyes. The music within her became soft, noble, and yet sadly tragic. "I think I understand something else," she said, reaching up to touch the side of his face. "You're all alone. Everyone you knew, everyone you have ever known is gone. You've no friends, no family, no lovers... no one you can turn to who won't eventually grow old and die."
"Please... don't."
"Why not?" she asked. "When I was in need last night you comforted me. Why won't you let me help you?"
The equine looked silently at the ground. Feelings began stirring within him that he had kept carefully buried for years.
"Because it hurts. It hurts to let someone in then loose them. I'm tired of hurting."
"Nathan," Sylvia said softly, "you're hurting because you've cut yourself off from everyone, because you take no joy in your life or the lives of others. Yes, loss hurts, but life is a constant cycle of pain and pleasure, happiness and sorrow, gain and loss. If you try to avoid life's sad moments then joy goes with it. I learned this when I lost my Daffad."
Sylvia glided towards Nathan and wrapped her arms firmly about him. "True friends, true lovers are few and far between. You have to live in the now so it will give you strength to carry with you into tomorrow." She pressed her head against the chest of the taller equine and once again began purring softly. The soft vibrations felt as if they were carrying through straight into the stallion's heart. Something hard gave way within him. Slowly... hesitantly he raised his arms and wrapped them around the mink, pulling her tightly into him. They stood there for long moments, basking in the warmth of the sun as it rose above the horizon.
Eventually Sylvia looked up at Nathan. "It's still early... Why don't you come back home with me for a nice long cuddle and a cup of tea." He nodded and smiled, taking her hand in his. The mink could hear the music swell within her as the two figures slowly made their way back to the tavern.
THE END