Though Rowan awaited angry, indignant youths with sticks to beat him for his recklessness, none came. He awaited Talwyn’s mentor, Mari the herbalist, to come quietly with her soft voice but firm hands to tell him he was to be banished, but she never arrived either. It gave him an uneasy kind of peace during the days that passed, relaxing more with every passing evening.

Talwyn had been angry with him, and he’d been angry with himself. However that promised retribution hadn’t arrived after a week which made him think it probably wouldn’t ever arrive. Talwyn didn’t seem the sort to let a wound fester for too long. She’d always managed her own affairs in a fairly straightforward manner, ever since she’d arrived. About a year after he had set up in the village.

It was easy enough to avoid Talwyn while he worked. He was usually working on a farm with a cow or sheep or bending horseshoes at his anvil. She was up early in the morning to collect herbs then busy helping Mari most of the day.

A morning came where tending to a cow’s hoof ended in pus and blood. Infection. He had stared at the wound dripping onto his apron and sighed to himself. This would need a poultice and packing to keep the infection off the ground. He stood and stared out across the yard and tried to conjure excuses from the air but only found more happy flies and shit.

Mari’s home was on the edge of the village, bordering a stream and meadow. Her short, squat buildings that made up her yard suited her, if you felt unkind you could match her thick blonde hair to the thatch of her roof, but it wasn’t wise to upset a herbalist so.

Rowan had cleaned up and changed out of his apron to go up and fetch the poultice. As he approached up the dirt road he could see a pale head bobbing around in one of the low walled gardens. Talwyn stood upright, one bundle of weeds under her arm and observed him with a sudden stillness that worried him a little. She hurried herself back into the main cottage. Rowan slowed his pace to the front gate, anticipating some kind of welcome.

Mari opened the door, leaning half out of it as Rowan caught sight of Talwyn’s pinafore leaving through the side door, back into the gardens. Mari regarded him with mild curiosity, nodding.

“Rowan. Good morning, what can I do for you?” She paused and wiped the sweat from her brow before heading back into the steam of her kitchen, “Come in, come.”

There were always pots of something or other boiling in Mari’s main house. The house was mostly kitchen, overtaken by a central low grate with several dark pots bubbling away at a low, even boil. Rowan was swift with what he needed from her, making his explanation short so he didn’t have to sit and sweat for long.

Mari listened silently, thoughtful until she told him to ask Talwyn for a specific set of herbs.

“They’ll make sure that the infection doesn’t take again. Tell Talwyn to make up a batch. She’s outside with them now anyway.”

“Uh, them?” Rowan asked, trying to ignore the tensing of his hands at being unable to avoid her any longer,

“The herbs! The herbs.” Mari laughed a little then went back to her pots, waving Rowan outside.

“Right.” He stood and headed out the side door, grateful to be breathing dry air. He ran a hand over his face to work the sweat off his eyes and noticed that Talwyn’s dress under her pinafore had become mysteriously loose in the time he’d been speaking with Mari.

It was practically falling off her shoulders as she stood from her kneeling with the weeds and walked over to him. From his high vantage point, being a head taller than her, he got a good eyeful of skin.

Well if that’s what she wanted to show him that was fine. Though part of him remembered that he hadn’t actually gotten to touch much of her at all, what with his hands being tied. That was a shame.

“What’re you after?” she asked him, voice slightly too light for the silent weight of her question.

“Mari said you’d make me up a poultice to fight off infection.” He explained, refusing to stare for too long.

“What’s wrong with you?” She put down the weeds into a barrel near the back wall, dusting off her hands and fetching up some tools from a low bench.

“Nothing.” He paused, “Nothing new. The Baxter’s cows need it.”

“Oh. Well, I can do that.” She smiled at him, and he wished it wasn’t quite so sweet. He could see in her step and manner that her profession satisfied her, for the most part. The very purposeful way that she was moving and stopping to bend forwards to cut certain herbs away from their stems was telling.

The soft curves of her chest moved in and out of view behind the cotton of her dress as she collected what she needed. Rowan stood by the bench, watching her for a time feeling that awkward shame rising to his face.

He sat on the low bench, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. He could hear Mari in the house behind him clanking and shifting things around, keeping a careful eye on her work.

Talwyn sighed as she approached, smirking a little at Rowan’s choice to close his eyes.

“Tired?” She teased, sitting down purposefully close to him.

“Tired of some things.” He grunted, opening his eyes with a sigh. This girl was determined, but apparently unwilling to get him into too much trouble. That was something.

He watched her lay out the herbs on the workbench, stripping away the stems slowly, purposefully. The shoulder of her dress fell away entirely and his eyes followed it. From his position sitting behind her he could admire the line of her neck and shoulder, which was of course what she wanted.

“You’re strangely keen on playing these games.” he said thoughtfully, “Could you hurry it up?”

“I can do my job well, or fast. You choose.” She paused to look over her bare shoulder at him, “And I don’t know what games you’re talking about.”

Rowan stared at her evenly. There was something equally as stubborn about her gaze that she shot back at him before going back to her work with the herbs. Rowan sat up and moved closer to Talwyn, noting how she paused. He didn’t want to disappoint, and slid his hand across her bare shoulder.

“I’m done playing.” He said softly, moving his hand down her front to her chest. He cupped her breast in his palm, feeling it fill the curve of his hand easily. The soft inhale of air she made before she spoke made him smile.

“If I shout, Mari will come out here and skelp you with a pan.” She hissed softly,

“Go on then. I told you I’m done playing.” He let himself enjoy the sensation of soft skin, squeezing her gently.

When no yelling or scratching came, Rowan pressed his face into the back of Talwyn’s head. He had to hide the smirk that was etched there, tinged with worry and exasperation at himself. Talwyn’s hands began moving again, she had a job to do after all. Rowan chuckled into her hair, fingers moving slowly over her.

The sensation of his calloused fingertips grazing her skin sent strange shockwaves through her, settling in a hot pool in her belly. She wasn’t sure what this meant. She kept working. Boys had given her tits attention before but they had always moved on quickly, or she’d slapped their hands away for being too rough, too fast.

This strange new pace was making her breathless. Wasn’t that supposed to be hard and fast? Something to knock the wind out of you. That’s what had been promised her before and while it had been hard and fast, it had never really left her curious for more. Not from boys her age at least. This problem with Rowan was becoming a fixation, she was sure.

Rowan’s fingers pinched at one of her nipples and she sucked in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to make a noise.

“Mari is inside the house.” Talwyn whispered, pulling the mortar and pestle closer. The scowl on her face was obvious as she glanced back to the door of the cottage.

“So keep quiet and don’t disturb her.” Rowan replied glibly, but equally as soft.

The herbs were placed in the mortar without ceremony. Talwyn ground them as quickly as she dared. It was difficult to balance the enjoyment of the attention, the worry that Mari would see and actually doing the task at hand.

Another pinch from Rowan’s wandering fingers made Talwyn’s hand slip on the pestle.

“You’re very keen for someone who was telling me off.”

She picked up the pestle again, mashing it into the thin paste that was forming.

“You’re the only one who gets to tease?” Rowan said, though his hand paused for a moment when he heard Mari’s footsteps. She was moving about, as busy as ever but not close to the door. When nothing came of it he continued on, leaning closer against Talwyn’s back to watch her work.

Talwyn huffed out a short breath, she supposed she deserved that.

“You going to give me what I want then?”

“Hah, no.”

“Bastard.”

“Mhm.”

There was a warmth in his voice that she swore she could feel as his fingers moved up to her collarbone to gently feel along it to her shoulder. It was a frustratingly light touch. She didn’t have the patience to just enjoy the moment. It might be gone soon. He would be gone soon.

“If you’re just going to leave me like this again you should stop.” She said.

The sullen tone in her voice caught Rowan’s hand before it could move again. He wanted to think himself better than her childish games but he was just playing them as well. Fuck, it was good to feel wanted again. Wasn’t much of an excuse but it was enough to put his hands on her, so he told himself with that twist in his gut reminding him why he’d been so adverse to begin with.

“If I give you what you want, you’re going to stop this?” He said, voice still soft. He watched her hands slow to a standstill over the mortar.

“Maybe. Maybe I’ll like it enough to come back again.”

“I told you why that’s a bad idea.”

“Then why are you here?”

She moved his hand from her shoulder back to her chest. Rowan sighed into her hair, comforting himself with an indulgent grip on her chest. What did she want from him? Well, he knew what she wanted but was that it? He could feel his cock rising with mild discomfort and adjusted his position sat on the bench.

“Don’t know. Could be because I’m a miserable old goat.” He sighed, “And you were right about me, on both counts.”

There was a smug noise from Talwyn as she began scraping out the poultice from the mortar, “I know.”

“Yes, because you know what it’s like, don’t you?” he said. The touch on her chest took on a decidedly more aggressive bent. His other hand joined in, disturbing her work without much care.

“The thief thinks that everyone steals.” he added, voice a low growl.

“I’m not a pervert.” she said. She realised her voice was rather weak. It was hard to argue against it when she thought about it for a bit longer. She didn’t hate what was happening. That she had to be quiet, careful. That Mari was nearby while she was letting, encouraging Rowan to touch her.

“Well I’ll just take my hands off you then.”

Rowan began to move his hands away, giving Talwyn enough time to snatch at his wrists and hold them in place. The mortar and pestle forgotten she glared back at him over her shoulder, but it was difficult to hold the expression while wanting to smile and finding breathing laboured.

“I like your hands on me. I want them to stay there. I want them to remain until I’ve had my fill of you.” Holding a commanding tone was a trial, she felt his hands tense and grip at her chest with an almost satisfied air as she spoke. Rowan watched her carefully, clearing the lump in his throat that had formed while he was growing painfully hard. Prior worries and concerns were seeming very irrelevant when she looked at him like that.

“I get the impression that might take a while.” He mumbled.

“You’re a sturdy man, you’ll manage.”

Rowan wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. There was a shifting of clothing and a creaking of the bench as they both moved at the same time. Whatever decision they had come to it was one that was made quickly, grasping at each other to try and vent this mounting tension. Rowan’s hand worked its way under her skirts while she kissed him. Her hands gripped at the back of his neck and tugged at his braid, unwilling to be the only one investigated she pushed her tongue into his mouth.

Though when Rowan’s hand moved between her legs to find her damp underwear she pulled away from him to gasp. Two of his fingers ground against her while he watched her hold onto his shoulder,

“You need to keep quiet.” He reminded her, amused. Talwyn had no response for him now, words were too difficult for her overheated brain. She just nodded and helped his fingers into her pussy with near frantic movements of her hand.

Rowan kept a more even pace, thick digits moving inside her in a practised manner as if searching for something. When Talwyn hid her face against his neck to try and muffle her voice, he couldn’t help but move with more enthusiasm. Her warmth was encouraging him onwards, knowing that he caused this in her was a heady thought, one that drove him to distraction. He nearly missed the sound of purposeful steps walking through Mari’s hut.

There was another flurry of activity, Talwyn pushing away from Rowan with a whimper of discontent. Talwyn hurried to settle her skirts while Rowan shoved his hands into his apron pockets and felt the mad urge to laugh at the absurdity of what they were doing. What he was doing. Acting like he was her age, skittish and trying to hide private trysts from authoritarian eyes.

The side door opened and Mari took a step out the door to peer into her gardens. Talwyn did her best to not look harried, methodically scraping the contents of the mortar into a small bowl while her knees shook under her.

“Did you find everything alright?” Mari said, nodding to Rowan who nodded in return.

“Yes, the thistles were just a little tough.” Talwyn turned and thrust the bowl towards Rowan without looking at him. Rowan took the bowl and smiled politely at Talwyn, there was nothing to be done. It felt good to let her see what could happen to them if she kept down this path. In a small, vindictive way he was glad. Larger parts of him were as frustrated as she was, and he hoped it didn’t show.

“Good. Well, if you need any more of the paste you can just come back.”

Mari then turned her attention back to Talwyn, looking at her as if Mari expected her apprentice to be using any excuse to be avoiding work. Sitting about having a nice chat on a warm day like today was a nice distraction after all.

“I need that sorrel, Talwyn.” Mari said. There was a significant look that followed those words with an incline of her head and a nod towards the gardens.

“Yes! Yes I’m going. Goodbye Rowan. Maybe we can continue our conversation later.”

“Maybe.”

Rowan stood as Mari headed back inside, restlessly going about her work. There was always something for Mari to be doing. Rowan gestured with the bowl that Talwyn had given him as a dismissive wave, silently telling her to get back to work. She stared back at him unwavering in her stubborn desire to get what she wanted. There was a lingering heat in her gaze that Rowan couldn’t meet for long. He glanced away and shook his head with an exasperated laugh, making Talwyn scowl.

How dare he act like there was nothing happening moments before! She didn’t understand his reluctance and she could practically see his crumbling resolve like an obstacle she only had to overcome. As Rowan moved past her to leave through the garden gate, she touched at his forearm.

“We will finish this conversation later.” She insisted

“No.”

“Coward.”

Rowan pursed his lips, trying to untangle the conflicting feelings that he knew might harm the both of them in the end. The days warmth was beginning to ebb, but he could still feel the sun lingering on the back of his neck where Talwyn’s hands had been desperately clutching. He hoped that the crickets that were beginning to sing would be enough to mask the sound of his voice as he spoke,

“Then come tell me later why you are so interested in this coward.”

There was no time for a reply. Talwyn stumbled over her words and then fell silent, watching Rowan made his way through the herb beds and between two low buildings out of sight. It was already uncomfortable working in this heat and now her thighs were slick. She tried to think of something pithy to say to him the next time they met, until Mari poked her head out the door again,

“Talwyn! Sorrel!”

Sending Talwyn hurrying through the garden, then back to the work table to fetch her shears, then back into the garden again to continue her work in slightly sticky peace.