Isolation in Fate

"Well, this is just dandy. Cam, you need to lay off the married women."

The aforementioned Cam was sitting in the small corner between the stables and the adjoining feed barn, huddled into himself and under a cloak that was thankfully waterproofed.

It wasn't doing all that much to keep the wind out, nor was it stopping his backside from getting damp from being parked on the muddy ground, though.

"I swear; I must have the worst luck. Of course the woman that I pick out happens to be married, and of course her husband happens to walk into the tavern just in time to see me slap her ass. Oh, and of course there has to be the worst storm in months the night I get thrown out on my ass." the man managed to chatter out between gritted teeth.

Not an hour ago he'd been holed up in the tavern not ten yards away from where he was currently sitting, enjoying booze, the company of friends, and the comfort of an especially buxom woman that had happened to wander his way sometime during the night. She made no comments to point that she was taken, nor did she have a wedding knot around her wrist, but sometime during the night her drunken bastard of a husband had looked his way, just as he was giving her a feel.

The man had quickly stumbled over to him, and had all too happily smashed the half-full mug of ale he had meaty fingers wrapped around on the back of Cam's head.

He had, of course, responded by not-so-politely asking what was going on, while replying to the physical affront with one of his own.

It's not like I knew she was taken.

The fight only lasted a few minutes, but it ended when the innkeeper and three of the bastard's friends had lifted him up and tossed him out into the strategically placed pile of mud. Thankfully, they were 'polite' enough to toss his things out with him.

"I didn't get to finish my dinner." pouted the damp, cold mercenary. And it was true, if the grumbling noise rising from his gut were any small reminder.

.....................

At the same time, not too far from the same village, a figure was slumped atop a horse, hidden under a dark, thick cloak that, while warm, was not made for any amount of water. It hung soddenly from the figure's shoulders and plastered against the poor mare's hindquarters, dense as lead from the torrential downpour that was assaulting the landscape around the area. It was obvious that both the figure and horse were tired and cold; The animal shivered every now and then, and voiced its displeasure in a steam-signaled snort of distaste, and while it was moving at a slow pace, the creature's legs moved slowly through the muck that covered the trail, each step shuddering and careful.

The shape hunched atop it, though, was in much worse shape. It barely moved, and the only indication that the rider was still alive was the puff of visible breath rising from under the sodden hood, as well as the occasional tightening of the only visible part of their anatomy. A pair of hands held onto reins for dear life, and occasionally twisted the rough leather in a vaguely impatient way, though likely only to get the blood flowing in them again.

It wasn't long before this pale horse and cloaked rider stumbled into town, unannounced. It was late, and visitors don't usually show up in the dead of night.

Said stumbling stopped a few paces away from the stable and tavern, in the middle of the small square that, during the day, was filled with merchants and people braving the depressing drizzle that had darkened most of the afternoon before becoming this monstrosity of a storm.

The figure atop the horse shifted, released a shuddering sigh, and then tumbled sideway off of the horse, and into the mud below, obviously unconscious.

..................................

Cam looked up at the sound of a horse that didn't come from behind him.

Standing in the middle of the square was a horse and rider, the latter cloaked in a dark, dripping garment that hid everything about them .He wasn't really sure of the gender of the rider, but he didn't have long to ponder it before the shape collapsed into the same puddle he'd been thrown into earlier.

"Shit. I really don't need this right now." the man muttered, a gloved hand raising to wipe water from his face.

The blonde looked around for a moment, waiting to see if anyone else could take care of this, then back to the unmoving shape on the ground not twenty feet away.

"Shit."

He stood, then, slinging his cloak about somewhat to shake the mud off of it, before slogging through the muck that layered the ground. His boots almost stuck a few times, even, and it took careful maneuvering to keep from sinking ankle-deep into the ooze. The rain was thankfully hard enough to wash away all smell, as well, or else he had a feeling he'd be picking up the odor of manure long trampled into the dirt by now.

When he reached the prone form, he carefully leaned down, and grabbed them by the shoulder, shaking carefully to try and wake them up.

"Hey." he said, loud enough to be heard over the torrent. Another shake, harder this time.

"Hey! Wake up!"

At that moment, the figure's hood fell back, and it took Cam all of five seconds to register what he was seeing.

The face under the cloak was pale as porcelain, the features delicate and refined. Fully, bow-shaped lips were pulled down into a pained frown, and were tinted slightly blue from the cold, but were no less attractive. Dark curls of long, black hair clung to that face, on cheeks and forehead, falling across eyes that showed long, curled lashes. Rain pattered over that face for a good minute before Cam's heart began to beat once again. And when it did, he could tell it was racing.

"What the hell is a woman doing out in the rain like this?" he whispered to himself, while curling arms under the drenched dirty cloak and lifting the surprisingly light form up and against his chest. She was cold.

"Shit. I need to get her inside. She's not going to last through the night outside."

He glanced around for a moment, then finally turned eyes to the tavern he'd been so recently thrown out of. I guess there's no choice.

He grabbed the horse's reins as an afterthought, and led the beast into the stables, while supporting the girl's weight with little problem. She was small, and he was strong, but he'd rather not have to carry her all night. After putting the horse into an empty stall, he pulled the woman's cloak back over her head to protect her from the rain, and then gripped her tightly, before heading back out into the rain with his dripping passenger in tow, at a much faster pace than before, not caring much about his boots this time.

It's not my business to help women who have no common sense. Especially ones that think it's a good idea to pass out in the middle of a street. Camryn thought, on his way to the inn. So why am I doing this?

Having no hands made for quite a problem when it came to opening the door. He eventually settled on raising a leg and supporting the woman's thighs atop it, before using his now free right hand to turn the knob.

As the door swung open, Cam caught her again, and hoisted the girl against his chest before stalking into the common room, which in the hours after his 'departure' had cleared out noticeably. He then stalked up to the bar, where the innkeeper was busy rearranging various cutlery.

"I need a room." he stated, and the man looked up at him. It took him all of five seconds to give him a venomous glare.

"I know you don't want me here." growled the blonde, not really wanting to get into it again. "But this woman just rode in and passed out. She's half frozen and half dead. I'll pay extra if that's what it takes."

The innkeeper looked wary for a moment, then glanced at the shape in the burly mercenary's arms, before grunting in disapproval. "You can stay." he agreed.

"We don't have any rooms with beds for the both of you. We do have one you can use, though. You'll have to pay for a double, because unless you're bedding that mess, I don't give discounts." the man stated, disappearing under the counter, before coming up with a key.

At the same time, a number of bronze and silver coins clanked to the top of the bar.

"There. And.." he trailed off, glancing into the hood of the woman's cloak. "You have baths in here, right?"

The innkeeper gave him a withering glare. "Yes."

............................

Ten minutes and a knock on the head later, Cam had managed his way up the stairs, after accidentally smacking into an area with a particularly low ceiling.

The room he'd purchased was small; It had a desk with a scuffed mirror, a small, rough looking bed, and in the corner, a tub that looked old enough to have been used by his grandmother.

"Okay. I'm not going to put you in the bed when you're covered in mud, and I'm not dealing with having the shit all over me, so you're going to have to deal with the floor for a minute, darlin'." the mercenary stated, as if the girl in his arms were awake.

He quickly shed his cloak, then pulled the thick tunic that had become drenched in his trek across the town plaza to save the woman curled up against the wall, where he'd placed her.

He was a fine specimen of male; The broad, muscular torso now revealed was golden-skinned, richly tanned and muscled to perfection. A broad chest and powerful abdominals were the crowning glory, but large biceps also showed obvious power. He wasn't incredibly muscular, but neither was he whipcord lean. He was somewhere in between.

He was handsome, as well; It's obvious why he got along with the ladies so well, with the square, strong jaw and the roguish good looks, as well as the head of messy strawberry blonde hair up top. Any woman would want him.

So why am I fawning over this waif?

Because she's gorgeous, his mind reasoned. And it was true. The hood had fallen back again, and the black hair underneath had tumbled free, long and curly despite the dampness that earlier slicked it to the woman's face. Now in the light, there was something about the girl's features that puzzled him, but he couldn't put a finger on it. As he did so, though, he proceeded with stripping down to his skivvies and opening the pack that had, by some miracle, remained dry. Once satisfied with the contents, he set it aside, and turned again to the woman.

Why did he suddenly feel so naked? It's not like he hadn't been between the sheets with more ladies than he cared to count, and here he was in his underclothes, acting like a green amateur. She was unconscious, by the Winds.

This is stupid.

He reached down, and made for the muddy clasp on the cloak. He had to at least get this thing off of her; It was drenched, with water and mud and who knows what else, and it wasn't getting any drier sitting on the floor. Underneath she was wearing a nondescript pair of trousers and a long, obviously oversized tunic.

"With skin like that, I'd have expected nicer clothing." the blond mumbled to himself, had shaking slowly. He stood, after casting the soggy cloth to the side, and stalked over to the tub.

Thanks the Winds for magic; Even a poor innkeeper could manage to purchase a few basic faucets. The thing was a long, bent pipe of plain iron, with one knob on the side. It was nondescript, at least until it was activated. Like most magical things in Garvidus, it probably would end up drawing water from outside the inn, and with this rain, there was a lot to take.

The faucet jingled, then shook, and finally erupted with a blast of steaming water from the spout. The tub was large enough that he didn't need to fill it all that way, but it would take some time to fill enough to use. Perfect. I can't bathe her in those clothes.

At that thought, he barely managed to quash a rather interesting mental picture, but the effects were still fairly obvious. Thankfully, the only other inhabitant of the room was out cold, and therefore unable to comment about the suspicious tent in his underthings.

"I'm acting like a virgin all over again. I need to get her out of those muddy clothes." Cam muttered, stalking over to the prone form and kneeling down. Up close, he could tell her face had been smudged by mud, and the grey tunic looked more like black from the amount of mess that had seeped into it. She was filthy.. And she had a bag much like his to his pleasure, which meant she had a clean set of clothes.

At this revelation, he removed the satchel, then set to work pulling the woman's belt apart. He then hooked fingers under the damp garment, grimacing at the smell of animal waste that was almost gone but not quite, and lifted it up.

Oh. Shit.

That's not a woman. That is NOT a woman.

And it wasn't; By pulling the shirt up and off, Cam had revealed a long stretch of attractively slim stomach, a delicate curve of gently pinched waist, and.. A completely, utterly flat chest.

It was obvious that the gir.. boy hadn't eaten much lately; His ribs could be seen under the milky white skin, just under the pink discs of nipples. He had an obvious curve to him, much like one would expect from a woman, and the overall shape, though emaciated, was very appealing. He was white all over, perfectly unblemished, except for a small, dark dot just under his left nipple. Cam wanted to lick it.

He almost stumbled back. What the hell am I thinking? he groaned to himself. This was not a woman sitting in front of him, so why was he thinking like this? He knew some men that liked other males, but he wasn't one of them. He'd always liked women, and he'd never found another man attractive in the least.

Of course.. no other man he'd seen had been quite so pretty.

"I do -not- like men." the blond growled to the empty room and the unconscious boy. It did, however, take him a moment to resume his task, still unnerved by his feelings.

He removed the muddy boots quickly, before hesitantly reaching up to the laces of the boy's trousers. What is wrong with me? It's not going to bite. And it's not like I haven't seen men naked before. he thought. His mouth was suddenly dry, but he swallowed and shook off his nervousness. There was no reason he couldn't do this.

The laces were clumped with mud, but came apart with a bit of effort. He left a streak of the brown gunk just under the divot of a navel above, and it took all of his mental strength to keep from staring.

Fingers hooked in the waistband of those pants, through the laces he could see a thatch of curly, dark pubic hair. His hands slid back, and cupped the boy's backside so that he could slowly, carefully pull free the dirty breeches.

He averted his eyes before he saw anything improper. Why? The pants came off without much effort, and he dropped them into the pile of ruined clothing afterwards. He'd have to look, now. So he did.

Any hope he had of this being a flat-chested woman disappeared. Between long, slender thighs was a flaccid, ivory, and very male organ, nestled in downy raven curls that contrasted so nicely with the porcelain skin. The boy was all curves, the mercenary noticed, and it would be more noticeable when he was well fed and healthy. That slender waist flared into sensually broad hips, and made him ache to see the curves of what promised to be a delicious backside.

Camryn started, disturbed by his thoughts. This is a man. Not a woman. The mercenary did not like men, and he didn't plan on starting now. He chose to ignore the stiffness of his own organ, attributing it to his earlier hopes that the boy was female.

With trembling fingers, he hooked muscular arms under the boy's knees and shoulders, and carefully lifted him. How nice the contrast of dark, bronzed skin was against the ivory paleness of the other man's. The boy was bony, true, but there was slender muscle under that skin, surprising given the soft curves and the overall prettiness of the boy.

He has amazing hair, thought the blond. Indeed he did; Half dry, and even when sporting spots of mud, the raven tresses spilled down low, curling into loose, damp spirals as they neared the ends. And the color. It was somewhere between black and purple, and even in the dim candlelight, it shimmered like it was freshly washed. Either the boy really took care of his head, or he was lucky enough to have genetics that gave him such nice hair. The color really was striking.

The tub was full, thankfully, and it wasn't long before Cam was bent over the tub, a rag in hand, using the steaming water to sluice the majority of the mud off of the pale form in the water. All the while, he had to keep from paying attention to the erection that was begging for attention between his thighs. Lacking soap, he had to settle for simply dipping all of that hair into the water and scrubbing the dirt out carefully. He doubted the boy would want to wake up with a head full of tangles. Or a random stranger.

Cam sighed. He had no idea how he was going to explain this in the morning. It would have to be dealt with later, though, he decided, as he lifted the damp form out of the tub.

He used the top blanket to wrap the boy in, and laid him out carefully atop the small bed. The mercenary didn't like the idea of sleeping on the floor, especially after he paid double, so he hoped the boy didn't kick in his sleep.

The next half hour was spent washing the mud out of both his and the stranger's clothing, something he normally wouldn't do for other people, but he felt slightly responsible. With the clothing draped over the edge of the mirror and desk to dry, he finally drained the tub, and leaned back against the nearest wall with a sign. At least that chore had distracted him enough to kill the painful erection he had.

Maybe I'm just tired. I am tired, of course, but maybe I'm only attracted to him because I didn't get any tonight, and I haven't been sleeping well.

Yeah. That was it. Definitely.

He glanced at the form on the bed, and noticed the boy had shifted in his sleep. A long, pale thigh was peeking free of the coarse, warm blanket, and that was all Cam needed to suddenly sport a tent in the front of his undergarments.

"Damn it." he grumbled to himself. Tonight was going to be a long night.

He decided this as he crawled into the bed, and used the single sheet that was left to huddle under. He was uncomfortably close to the boy. Close enough that he could smell him. A soft, light scent, clean, of course, but something different from what women smelled like, no perfumes or flowery hair products. It was..

Erotic.

The blond had to almost physically stop from burying his nose in the dark curls by turning over. The boy had all the pillows, but it didn't matter. All the pillows in the world weren't going to get Cam comfortable tonight, probably because of the fact that he was too busy agonizing over his reaction to the boy, which was not normal, and he was debating whether he wanted to disappear elsewhere for a few moments, to take care of the 'problem' that was pushing the white sheet out in an obvious manner.

He couldn't win. By the time he got to sleep, he was sure that sunrise would be in only a handful of hours.

I'll deal with the boy then.

The mercenary's eyes drifted closed, and he finally fell into much-needed slumber.

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Author's Note:

Yes, I know it's starting out slow. Yes, I know it's a little confusing at first. But I hope it still managed to get you interesting.

This'll be the first time I've posted my work online, and I tryuly hope that you enjoy it. I work fast, so don't expect there to be much downtime between chapters.

Feel free to leave a review!

Also;

Camryn s'Kraid & Alla this crap is Copywrited to your's truly.