The boys walked and talked, sharing sips of wine. Fen was busy arguing the moral responsibility of the Poncè men to spread their seed and save the village woman from conscription.
"You're just letting your willy do your thinking." Beaux teased.
Fen made a shocked and hurt face, as if the idea was deeply offensive. "Not all of us can be as saintly as thee, dear cousin."
"You both have a point, and even if Fen is using his little pecker instead of his peanut brain. We still don't have a male to take the estate after Uncle Less passes." Ton added. "We've got nothing but Poncè girls. And the man doesn't get any younger."
[God, I hate when these two make a fair point.]
Fen shouted in offense, "Our peckers are the same size you daft loon."
The jest took the edge off the harsh talk, and they laughed and taunted each other until they reached the village.
It was jubilant in the golden tavern, Beaux and the twins melted into the crowd. The two had their arms wrapped round each other, comrades entering a personal battlefield.
[It's beyond disgusting. I can't believe these idiots talked me into this.]
The bar was laiden with drunken fools, women slung across every open lap and clung against limp arms. Empty bottles and glasses littered the many dingy tables and surfaces. Slips of breasts and thighs were teased below skirts of many colors and shades. A few barmaids were trying to manage the piling mess, and failing gloriously.
Beaux went to the tavern keep, the man he had squared his cousin's debt with that morning, and asked for a round of ales for him and the boys.
[This morning felt like ages ago, I didn't know a single day could pass so slowly.]
"First round is on me son, I'm astounded that you graced us with your presence." The man said, one lazy eye wandering in the other direction.
Physical deformities were another way to keep men out of the war effort, self inflicted or by birth. Beaux had considered the idea at one point, but deemed it unnecessary with his uncle still kicking.
[That option is still open. Perhaps a quick snap of a wrist and I could get a few more months at home. But what would a couple of months change?]
Ton and Fen were huddled around a corner booth with a few men and women. Beaux passed them drinks and stood towards the back wall, listening in on their idle chat. Mostly about the different women prowling for an evening's entertainment, and the ongoing argument on who had the bigger cock. His attention was suddenly stolen by someone tugging at the back of his sleeve.
"Looks like you made it."
The voice was sultry and sweet, with a hint of a drunken slur. Beside him was Lily in a red dress, with a white corset embroidered with flowers along her bosom. Her hair was not in its usual state with bows and decorations. It flowed down her shoulders and back with long curls like a dark waterfall. Truly, she was a plain girl, but with her charisma and sly smile, her face was brightened into an unmatched prettiness compared to the other girls of the village.
"It looks like I did." Beaux responded with a feline grin. It was perhaps the drink that made him feel open to the talk.
[It doesn't hurt to flirt a bit with the lass.]
The one ale Beaux had promised became two or three. Villagers and traveling merchants around the tavern pushed drinks his way when they found he'd be gone in the morning to war. With the port he had swigged on the long walk there, the world was tilted below his boots. Soon a few women began singing and playing instruments.
It wasn't long after, Beaux took Lily in his arms and they spun and danced to the beat. Feet against the hardwood flooring became a heartbeat tempo, pushing them faster and harder against each other, and into the sway of the rhythm. Fen and Ton were nowhere to be seen, off with their own beddings.
Another great glass of ale was passed to Beaux and they cheered and sang for him as he guzzled it down.
"Hero of the Sow,
A great farewell,
A beer to drink and a maiden to plow."
Once the cheering had thoroughly gotten to his head, Beaux took Lily's hand and they rushed to the door. Cheeks were tinted a hue similar to her skirt, and sweat slid down both their heaving chests. Beaux's bad thoughts, responsibilities, and family honor suddenly didn't feel so heavy on his shoulders. For once, he sat outside a tavern with a lovely girl and couldn't help thinking of the butterfly kisses he wanted to leave on her collarbone.
She twirled under the midnight sky and sang the lines of the song they'd cheered over and over.
"You're drunk!" He yelled into the sky between wheezing laughs. Lily stopped and pulled close to his chest, right below his face. Her eyes were twinkling brighter than the stars above.
"So what?" She huffed, "You are much drunker."
Beaux stumbled and laughed again pulling her into a hug and burying his face in her hair.
"Come on, I want to take you somewhere." She said, pulling away and leading him down the dark street.
The two padded along until they had left the village completely, not far from the town's stone walls. A small pond surrounded by a few quaint hills was hidden behind blackberry shrubs and a sparse number of trees. Moss creeped onto the bank, a soft bed along the dark waters edge.
"They say if you take a dip in this pond under the full moon, you'll be blessed with eternal youth and great luck." Lily said, slipping off her boots and stockings in a polite grace.
"If that were true every biddy in the sow would be fresh as a daisy, and every bastard filthy rich." Beaux replied, coming behind her, brushing her long locks to one side. She laughed clearly and the sound rang like a sparrow.
[She doesn't mean to swim nude, does she?]
"Would you mind helping me out of this corset?" She asked playfully, "don't think it'd fare well in a swim."
Beaux hesitated, but in the end obliged.
[What harm would a swim do?]
Undressed, she stood in her undergarments. Body, curved and beautiful. He had never seen the freckles across her shoulders and back until now. The full moon cast silver light across the water beyond, like a great mirror tucked in a green velvet case.
"Well? Are you going to leave me lonesome and nude, or join me, great hero of the sow?" Lily's hands slid up his waist and under the heavy tunic he wore.
In a swift moment it was off, and he was at work stripping the belt and breeches away. Ignoring the awkwardness of him undressing, Lily made her way into the water calling him to follow.
Soon they were both waist in, skin to skin. Silent among the water lilies, Beaux leaned in and kissed below her earlobe. She was as soft as a ripe peach, and sweet with scented oils.
A hushed whisper cradled his ear, "Please."
It was an invitation, and Beaux kissed her as if he would devour every part of her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he nibbled at her arched throat.
She started saying his name desperately, pushing closer in the dark water. His body was hardening with pleasure, and though the water was a tad cold heat was coursing through his blood.
The sparkling light around them wrippled and the beauty of it all was so deeply moving. Beaux imagined taking her purity as a tribute to the pond's magnificence.
Suddenly, as he felt the urges take deep root within him Lily dropped completely limp.
[What?]
"LILY!" He yelled, and tried to lift her head to look into her eyes.
[Have I hurt her? Did I do what I'd sworn against?]
When he saw them, he fell utterly still.
They were silver as the moon above, and her lips were parted. The mud below them began to sink, and he could feel both their bodies being dragged below the surface of the pond. Inky black surrounded them and the lily pads swayed closer.
"Take me home." The words came from Lily's lips, but the sound was unworldly and distant. An echo across a vast expanse of water. Fear and panic was gripping every part of his mind. Beaux's hands were struggling to keep hold of her slippery waist.
"TAKE ME HOME." It said again as their shoulders were getting close to being submerged, and Beaux thrashed against the invisible forces trying to drown him.
Beaux roared, the sound of an animal trapped and furious. Rage bubbled past all other fleeting thoughts and he slowly dragged one foot in front of the other to the bank. At the edge, it took all the strength in him to heave Lily halfway onto the mossy bank. Her face was still towards the sky. The water and mud dragged him further down, his head now completely under and he held his breath for as long as he could.
"Please," pleaded the ethereal voice, as if Lily's parted lips were still so close to his face, "take me home."
The muddy wall finally came into his grasp, and Beaux clawed to the surface. Every fiber in his being was telling him to get out. When he finally broke through, the breath of air he took was followed by wet coughs and vomit. Completely sober, he lay on the bank next to Lily drinking in the air.
She was breathing and completely fine, gentle sleep taking hold of her body.
[What the bloody hell was that? Take Lily home, take whatever the fuck that was home?]
Beaux's mind was racing, and the only thing he wanted was his bed and a deep uninterrupted sleep. Lily shook awake, surprised to be on the bank.
"Did I somehow fall asleep, Beaux?" She asked, a bit of panic in her voice. Her face held concern and embarrassment.
[Does she not remember a single thing? How is that possible? I'll never forget this wretched night. Could it be that we were possessed by a daemon?]
After deciding against telling Lily what had happened, he simply stood and began dressing.
"Let me walk you home, Lily."