What's wrong with women today? Like Fyen and Mirlín: they said they wouldn't go out drinking but the condition Fyen was in... man, she was as drunk as a newt! And what was up with that outfit of Mirlín's? She looked like a bloody hooker! I just don't understand why they — and also Reynaer — have to be such hardasses? Why's everyone on guard all the time? Why can't people just lower their arms and smell the flowers for once? Just look at the bees on the petals instead of raiding the beehives for honey, turn it quickly into mead to be drank as fast and in as large quantities as possible!
With dread, he expected the day when Fyen would lose her maidenhood. She'll start screwing around like a randy bunny... as if that's what’ll make you a woman of the world, a heroine, an amazing wanderer. And Mirlín... she seemed all right at first, hiding under that creepy wolf hide, like she didn't go with the flow... but I don't know... has the tide turned? She also following the scantily clad path of wenches?
Desiderius bent to pick up his notebook from the pile of dung where it had landed. Great, Reynaer must have planned this! He probably lifted a cow, carried it here, and squeezed the poop out of it just to toss my notebook in it later. The boy looked around as if seeking the poor cow. There were no squeezed bovines in sight but, instead, his eyes locked on a girl who appeared to be on a stroll with her lady friends.
But she's different! The girl was dainty, almost elfin. She was olive-skinned and had wavy, auburn hair that cascaded down her willowy back. Curiously enough, the girl reminded Desiderius of Fyen when he had first seen her in Kumby, dressed in blue and on the verge of realizing what a nasty place the world was. That Fyen Desiderius had liked and in his dreams went on even wilder adventures with her than what they were on now. But she's different now. What she did and how she’s now... well, who could really blame her? Mom gone, no dad, then she killed that man, and all. Desiderius' focus shifted back on the fairy girl who was just entering a tavern with her friends. The young man followed them, reluctant to let her out of sight.
Desiderius stepped inside, looking for the wavy, auburn locks. He spotted the girl of his dreams, sitting at a table with her friends. A barmaid brought a tray of drinks to them and sat down to chat. Probably a friend of theirs. Enchanted, he observed as the girl talked and laughed, her doe eyes glinting in the candle light. She must be a fairy from the nether world, girls like that just don't exist, Desiderius thought, transfixed. Then there was a burp right into his ear.
A fat man swayed before him and bellowed: "What kind of a man doesn't carry a sword?" Then he let out a wet fart and swayed away, disappearing into the crowd. What a charming bloke, Desiderius thought and decided to order an ale to give himself an excuse to linger, the fairy girl in his vicinity.
He walked to the counter, got his tankard, and turned around, leaning against the bar. The Fairy was engaged in an animated conversation with the barmaid but Desiderius only saw her bosom: two perfect little buns constricted by the generous neckline. Although the girl's neckline was at least as open as Mirlín's had been, it in no way occurred to Desiderius that the Fairy might not be the chaste virgin that he imagined. He craned his neck to get a better view of the olive dumplings but his elbow slipped off the counter and he almost fell over.
The Fairy looked at the boy and their eyes met for a brief moment. Desiderius fumbled somehow, his tankard slipping from his grip and clattering happily across the floor. At the same instant, as if struck by magick, his pants dropped, and the flatulent fat man he had met earlier reappeared next to him and vomited on his shoulder. A door opened behind the counter and a cow walked in, trod slowly past the awestruck boy, and out of the front door. It did look a bit squeezed.
A thin fellow with a thin mustache, like a worm over his upper lip, walked past the boy, shouting: "Trent? Where are you, Trent? Has anybody seen Trent?"
Then he, too, wandered out of the tavern. What? Desiderius thought as he bent down to pull up his traitorous pants. The fat man had also disappeared unlike the barf that was still on the boy's shirt. Without daring to even glance at the Fairy's table, Desiderius hurried out of the tavern and into the street. He looked around but the cow was nowhere to be seen.
"Well, that's just typical!" he exclaimed as he marched to a nearby well to wash his shirt.
Now his chances of getting acquainted with the Fairy were absolutely nil. She could have been my future wife! Mother of my children! I would've built a house for her! With a fireplace! And some furnishings and spoons!
The boy wondered what he should do now that his evening and life were completely ruined by the series of unfortunate events that took place right before his dream girl's eyes. He spotted the stables and then thought about going back to his room. Remembering Reynaer's foul mood he decided it might be safer sharing a stall with Snappy. Resigned to his dire fate, Desiderius tossed his wet shirt over his shoulder and dawdled to the stables.
Sitting on the straw mat, the young man held the lute in his lap while he wrote lyrics into his notebook. A song was slowly forming in his mind, a song about the perfect love lost forever. Now his destiny was to love the fairy girl from a distance, his heart ever pining for her beautiful smile, doe eyes, auburn locks, and olive dumplings.
No comments:
Post a Comment