Zorian breathed calming himself, his palms growing sleek with sweat, he began to sing along with the notes, his voice shaken and pitched but soon he grew more comfortably with the medley and the quiet, and his voice soared, with an angelic like touch, he had not ever heard from himself, for he had never the time to sing with earnestness, yet he found he enjoyed himself and smiled as he sung the song. at times his words grew tongue tied but Mule carried on to play with ease, it built into a initiate affair, as both glanced to one another with something that was not shared by two friends, but the song ended as did their glances, as they looked shyly away,
Mule clapped his hands together praising Zorian, “perhaps it should be you singing in court.”
Zorian scoffed, “I sounded like a shrieking hawk.”
“No, not all.” Mule shook his head, “i would listen to you for hours if i could, gladly would for the rest of my life.”
Zorian looked faintly to his side, “you do not mean that.”
“I do.” Mule spoke, getting up from his stoll, he lifted Zorians chin up, stroking his jaw much like the prince had, “for you are like no other.”
They stared at one another for a long moment that seemed to never end, till Zorian saw behind Mule, a small wooden arch way, and beneath a wooden statue carved and crafted to look like what Zorian knew as the goddesses of war.
“What is that?”
Mule turned to the statue, “my father would often go to battle, so mother had a statue made of the goddess so she could pray for his safe return and victory in the battlefield.”
Zorian nodded, “was he a soldier once?”
Mule smirked, “of a sort in his youth.”
“Not for you?”
Mule shrugged, “I do not think I am made for it.”
“You are on the skinner side of things,”
“My father says I grow instead of growing fat.” the boy said proudly,
Zorian snorted, “gods, your idiotic.” he muttered,
A second and Mule began grinning like a fool, he held tight onto Zorians hand, “we must go swimming in lake,” he urged pulling the boy out of the cottage,
“Your insane,” Zorian grumbled,
“am i?” Mule spoke as he let go of Zorians hand, then ran straight into the lake, fully clothed, falling into the water,
“Yes!” Zorian shouted in an amused voice. He watch as the boy began kicking about in the water, his clothes soaked through,
“Come on!” he yelled at Zorian,
“And catch my death?” Zorian said, “no thank you.” he stepped closer to lake till his feet were at the edge of its water,
“I swear to you, you will not,” Mule spoke as he swam up to Zorian, the boy scoffed and turned away but as he did, in a swift and quick motion, Mule grabbed onto Zorians hand and yanked him in, Zorian fell with a splash, he gasped in a breath as he resurfaced.
“Mule!” he shouted,
The boy giggled, “see it is hardly cold.”
“It is freezing,” Zorian chatted,
Mule fell onto his back floating, “relax, Zorian,” he breathed, beginning to do butterfly strokes in the water.
Zorian grumbled to himself, “relax,” he muttered, he narrowed his on the calm boy, and began the trudge towards him through the water that came up to his ribs. He pulled the boy down by his left ankle, surprising him as he went under, swimming back up,
“What in the-”
“I said i had not wanted to go in,” Zorian gritted,
Mule frowned, “so you try and drown me?”
“Do not be so dramatic, I would hardly call that drowning.”
“You had pushed me under the water,” Mule seethed,
“And you had dragged me in,” Zorian surged back, before any knew, their noses were inches from each other and they paused in their anger, the world seemed to go utterly still and quiet as they stood, and Zorian did not know what to do, nor knew what Mule was thinking as he stared into Zorians eyes, but he began to move dangerously close to Zorian, that the boy panicked, and quickly splash Mule with a bout of water. Mule grinned, as he turned to Zorian with a glint in his eyes, “no, no, no-” but it was too late as Mule began splashing him relentlessly, till it broke out into all out war between the two, and they laughed and shouted at each other. It seemed to last hours, and eventually their arms grew too tired to carry on, so they walked out the lake, sitting beneath the shade of a tree, handing their wet clothes on an outstretched branch hoping to dry in the sun's heat. They sat down together near naked for hours.
Mule glanced at all of Zorians scars, his fingers lightly traced over the marks, “had your stepmother done this?” he asked, looking at his back which was a canvas of lashes.
Zorian nodded, “she had ordered the stronger male servants to do it,”
“Had it hurt?”
Zorian sighed, “I try not to think of it.”
Mule went dim for a moment, “I had thought the previous lord's son had died from a fever.”
“she has told people that.”
Mule frowned, “why do you allow her so?”
Zorian shrugged, “I would not be a good lord.”
“It is your birthright,”
“That doesn't mean i would be good at it.” he answered back.
“You are scared.” Mule spoke it as fact.
Zorian looked away, “my father had not time to teach me anything of lordom, i know nothing, only how to clean and wash the floors,” he chuckled,
“And what if the prince asked you to marry him would you object solely for the reason of the rank it gives you.”
“The prince would not ask such a thing, and I would say no nevertheless whether it was because of rank, or the matter of-” Zorian stopped, looking down to his bare feet, reminding him of the men at the festival, it suddenly had him think of his mother only realizing then she had never worn shoes, unless riding, it made him crease his brows.
“The matter of what?” Mule prompted, in an urgent tone.
Zorian snorted, “love, i do not love him. I know nothing of him, but-”
“But?”
Zorian sighed, “why would the prince ask me to marry him, i have never met him.”
“It would not be surprising, with one look I know he would be madly in love with you, you are very handsome afterall.”
Zorian scoffed, “i do not know about that.” letting his back fall against the trunk of the tree. “And you must stop feeding me lies that I know that are not true.”
“What lies?” he asked shocked, “i have been nothing but truthful,” he smirked, “and you are handsome.”
Zorian rolled his eyes, smiling. “I think i can understand why Will hates you.”
“I hope you don’t,”
Zorian grinned, “how do you know that i don’t.” he turned to Mule, but then paused seeing the gaze in the boys eyes, Mules hands reached for Zorians face just like the prince had, his thumbs delicate circling his cheeks with a tender motion. Zorian gulped, trying to glance away, but Mule's hands kept him in place.
“Then, i do not think i would survive such an ordeal,” and with that he leaned in for a kiss that consumed Zorians lips. For the longest time they stayed in that embrace of their lips, that deeped with each moment till finally they pulled away, Mule smiled, still holding onto Zorians face, rubbing his cheek, his eyes switched over to sky that was begging to dim as the sun headed lower and lower in the sky. He sighed, “come tonight, to the festival, it’s the last night, i want-” he paused swallowing, “-i want to tell you something and i want to introduce you to someone.”
“I-”
“Please,” he begged, Zorian nodded slowly, Mule smiled, leaning his head against Zorians, “i swear to you, always, that none that i have done has been a lie,” he said carefully, “for every intent was done with-” he stopped, sighing, he looked at Zorian, “do you feel an ounce of what i feel for you?”
Zorian was about to answer but Mule silenced him with his finger, “no, wait, I want to hear it tonight. I will wait till then.” he sighed again, as he rose, “perhaps it is time to go.”
Zorian looked to the sky, “her ladyship will be looking for me, no doubt has been for the day.”
“You will be alright won’t you?” Mule questioned concerned,
“Yes, i will stay hidden in stables till they leave,” he smirked,
Mule smiled, the two boys dressed and headed towards their horses in silence, entering the woods, it soon grew dark, and Zorian hadn’t noticed how long the trek back would be, for when they traveled to the lake and cottage it seemed only to be a few moments, but now it seemed to his mind to be hours. The two soon had to split away from each other, as Mule headed back Stregan, and Zorian to harwood. The boy rode along quietly, not being able to think of anything other than their kiss, and even as he arrived back to the keep, Mule would not leave his mind, plaguing him like illness. He groaned, looking at his steed, “gods,” he muttered, “he has turned me into a fool.”
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