LARPing Around

Like the old song by Pulp goes, Megan and I were born within an hour of each other, and people did say that we could have been sister and brother. We actually grew up next door to each other: our mothers being best friends, it was only natural that we spent most of our early childhood playing together. Years past, and we remained as close as ever, attending the same school, in the same classes, but aside from one game of Doctors & Nurses, our relationship was always totally platonic. As we grew older and reached puberty, I know a lot of the boys at our school were put off from asking Megan out because of me: I'd had my growth-spurt younger than most, and was often mistaken for someone several years older than I was. I was also a member of the school rugby team, my relative size to most kids my age making me the perfect scrum-half, and the terror of the local inter-school league.

But any talk of a future in sports ended when Terry Bryson started spreading stories around school that he'd gotten into Megan's pants on their one and only date. I only needed to look at the hurt in her eyes to know that he was bullshitting everyone, and everything went red. The next thing I remember is straddling his chest and punching him in the face until he broke down and admitted that Megan had flat-out refused to even kiss him, let along anything more intimate. Two seniors dragged me off him before I could do any more damage, and his parents did agree not to press charges when they heard just what their son had been saying. Still, I was suspended for a week and kicked off of the rugby team.

Megan at least appreciated my defending of her honour, and proclaimed me “her own personal knight in shining armour”, before kissing me softly on the lips. It was a first for both of us, but nothing more came of it.

I dated somewhat sporadically through High School, loosing my virginity at a party to celibate the end of our GCSE's. I know Megan also dated, but they never lasted more than a couple of dates, and I didn't want to pry into something so personal. We remained best friends through our time at the local Sixth-Form collage, even if we were taking different subjects. Finishing at the same time, we both decided to attend a local university that was just too far away from home for an easy daily commute. Megan's parents were a little unhappy with the idea of their only daughter moving away, until she suggested that we got a flat together.

I agreed readily; there was no way I could have afforded a place of my own with the job I'd managed to line up for myself, and the thought of having to share a dorm-room was less than appealing. My older brother Jack had taken that rout, and had been ripped off by a room mate who'd dropped out after two months, taking Jack's laptop with him before departing for points unknown. Happy with the idea of having someone they trusted around if their daughter needed help, Megan's parents agreed to put up half the security deposit on a small but comfortable flat half an hours walk from the University campus, an offer my own parents matched, and we moved in two weeks before classes started.

You would have thought that having spent a life time around Megan that I would have been ready to live with her, but almost ten years had passed since we'd played “I'll show you mine if you show me yours”, and she'd grown into a very well developed young woman. While not conventionally attractive, she was still beautiful and the retro-style cloths she loved made her look very sexy in a cute 1950's way, and for the first time in my life I found myself jerking-off thinking of my best friend. I came harder and longer than ever before, but was instantly wreaked by a sence of guilt at what I had done, and forced myself to put the image of her as a sexual being out of my mind.

University started, and I was too busy with essays and my part-time job to think of anything but sleep in my spare time, but I soon found my rhythm and things calmed down. I was taking maths and physics, which kept me in class for most of the day, while Megan's Dramatic Arts course had her spending most of her evenings at some theatre or community hall, so we often went a day or two without talking, other than to exchange rushed greetings as we passed on the doorstep. The first time I saw Megan dressed up as an Elf, I assumed it was for a class, and thought nothing of it. It wasn't until one of the rare weekends when we both had some free time that I discovered her interest in Live-Action Role Playing. Now I have to admit that back then I had some rather ill-informed opinions of the kind of people who'd willingly spend their free-time running around dressed like extras from the Lord of the Rings, and I did rib Megan mercilessly about it for about a month afterwards.

My jokes ranged from calling out “By The Power Of Grayskull!” when she was buttering her toast, to asking her when the Hobbit's would be popping round.

Thankfully her sense of humour has always been better developed than mind, and she took it all with good grace, until one day she suggested that, as an aspiring scientist, I should at least observe that which I was building a hypothesis of before I put forth a conclusion. I have to admit that I was slightly taken aback, but I've never been one to back down from a challenge, so a bet was made: I would attend her LARP meeting that weekend, and if I was still convinced that it was a silly waist of time, she would do the dishes for a month. If, on the other hand, I accepted it as a valid hobby, I had to take a forfeit to be agreed upon later. Hands were shaken, and a pair of old jeans and a leather waistcoat pressed into service, transforming me into a barbarian warrior.

It was with some sence of trepidation that I walked the short distance from our flat to the wooded area at the back of the University campus that the LARP club had gained the use of for their activities. At Megan's request, I was put in the heroes camp, and tasked with helping my fellow warriors rescue a kidnapped Elvish Priestess, played by Megan. We split up, each group making their way to one side of the wooded, a borrowed double-headed battle-axe over my shoulder. I felt ashamed to admit that I was starting to enjoy myself: my barbarian-warrior persona allowed me to be as uncouth as wanted. Our team leader pointed out the two possible roots through the forest that the 'Ork' team could take: the main track or a smaller, longer path through the thickest part of the woods. It was agreed that the main track was the most likely, as there was very little cover for an ambush, so the leader would take the bulk of our forces there, while I was sent wit two of the other less experienced members to watch the forest path, with orders to report back if we saw anything.

Crouching behind a tree while holding a plastic axe was not my idea of fun, and I was just starting to look forward to a month of not having to do the dishes when I heard something moving through the trees ahead. I signalled to my two companions, and one of them managed to catch a glimpse of the Orks as they tried to make their way as quietly as possible through the undergrowth. Our designated run took off, while the third member of our team and I prepared to fight a holding action.

“KISS MY AXE, ORK FILTH!” I cried out as I leapt out from behind my tree, swinging my weapon in a carefully planed arc that just missed my target. He fell to the ground, but another Ork took his place as my comrade in arms attacked the rear of the column, cutting of their main line of retreat. I had to remind myself not to get carried away, and to avoid actually hurting anyone. Fortunately the speed and ferocity of my attack seemed to surprise them, and I was quickly able to reach Megan just as my team-mate went down.

Options ran through my head, and I decided to go with the most barbarian-like: throwing Megan over one shoulder, I ran off into the trees. The Orks started to follow, but the rest of my team arrived and battle was joined. Megan was laughing uncontrollably as I continued my mad dash through the trees, only stopping when we reached a small clearing and I gently put her down.

“I thank you, brave warrior.” She took a step back smiled, “I am Arrua Myestinis of Clearwater, High Priestess of the Sun Goddess.”

“I am Wulf Bloodaxe of the Ice-Mountain Tribe!” I responded in my best Conan the Barbarian voice, “Come, we must fleet before more foul Ork-beasts find us!”

A crack of thunder rolled above our heads, heralding the start of a summer storm, and soon rain started to fall out of the sky in unending torrents.

“This way.” Megan grabbed my hand and pulled me back into the trees, “There's an old grounds keepers hut near here; we can at least keep dry.”

Despite our best efforts, we were rather wet when we arrived at the hut, little more than an oversize garden shed, and I managed to kick the door open. But it was, as promised, at least dry, with a musty old sofa that proved to be more comfortable than it looked. Megan was shivering, the thin material of her costume clinging to her body provocatively. It was obvious from the way that it clung to her grapefruit-size breasts that she wasn't wearing a bra: her nipples were hard and poking out. I instinctively offered her my waistcoat, to help protect her modesty as much as anything, but she shook her head.

“We need to get dry.” She insisted as she looked around and spotted and old dust sheet folded up atop a pile of boxes, “If we take most of our cloths off, we can hang them up to dry and use that to keep warm.”

“Um...” I almost stuttered, “Are you sure that's such a good idea?”

“Dan, we've been living in the same small flat for months.” Megan laughed, “It's not like we haven't seen each other in our underwear before.”

I grudgingly admitted that she was right, and pulled off the shirt I had warn under my waistcoat, then kicked off my shoes before slipping out of my jeans. Now I'm not going to bullshit you and claim I'm hung like a horse or anything, but I like to think I'm reasonably well equipped, and I've never had any complaints. Thankfully the rain had had the same affect as a cold shower, so I wasn't about to embarrass myself with unintentional wood. Setting out my cloths to dry as best I could, I turned round to find Megan already curled up on the sofa with the sheet, more of an old blanket that anything else, wrapped around her body.

“Here.” She held part of the sheet open, “We both need to keep warm.”

Not trusting myself to say anything, I climbed in next to her and tried to get comfortable. We were both shivering slightly, by this time, and Megan responded by putting her arms around me so would could share body-heat. While no stranger to being in such close proximity to a woman dressed only in her panties, I was still more than a little uncomfortable, but this went apparently unnoticed by Megan, who rested her head on my shoulders.

“I think we should declare today draw.” She spoke softly, “Match delayed due to rain?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, I was enjoying myself somewhat, before the rain.” I admitted somewhat sheepishly, “I'm not saying I'll be a regular member, but I do apologise for my previous jokes.”

“Still my knight in shining armour?” She asked with a warm smile, “So, I guess I should claim my prize then?”

TBC...