B E O B I

Aha. My first long term story. I'm going to say now that there won't be any sex involving the main character for quite a good long while. Mainly because I want hima virgin for the character he ends up with, so yeah. You want PWP, go check my other story.

This is medieval fantasy, so if you don't like GTFO. It's not very good, but I tried, so yeah. No harsh critz. I love reviews!


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I felt like my skin was on fire, set ablaze by the scalding rays of the cruel sun, who inched his way across the horizon at an agonizingly slow pace. I let out a loud groan, raising the last bale of hay up onto the cart, the roll of grass landing with a satisfying thud. I clapped my hands together and wiped my sweat covered brow. I was tired, worn out and ready to tumble into bed for a long night’s sleep. But I knew I still had a good hour or so of chores to do so I shuffled on, back toward the stables on the other side of the farm. I let out a long yawn.

I hoped my mom was making something good for dinner. Then again, there was rarely a night when she didn’t. I suppose that was the one good thing about being a farmer’s boy. We’d certainly be the last ones to run out of food! Well, not counting the nobles or royalty. They had enough food to feed the whole village, and then some! Such were the advantages of being a noble. But my jealously of the higher classes had faded many years ago when I was a young boy. After all, impossible dreams did nothing but break your heart.

I threw open the door of the stable, and I couldn’t stop from crinkling my nose at the nasty smell. It certainly never failed to catch me off guard. No matter how many times I had to clean out the pens, I hadn’t gotten anywhere closer to getting used to it. It reeked of horse dung and pig sweat, and the barely noticeable scent of the animal’s hay, masked by the grungy smell of everything else that inhabited the old barn. I covered my face with my hand as I went in, grumbling curses as I forced myself over to the tool barrel to get the shovel.

About an hour and a half later, I tumbled out of the stables, gasping for air. I tossed the shovel beside the door and about gagged. I hated cleaning the stalls. I swear my father made me do it just to see me squirm. He was a good man, but he sure did have a rather wicked sense of humor. Most of which involved my pain or humiliation. But it was one of things you got used to, after a few years. Either that or you leave. And as if poor boys like me had anywhere to go!

I grunted softly, realizing my work was done for the day. I punched the air, and began jogging my way back to the house, with a renewed vigor. The rest of the day was mine, and I wasn’t going to waste a second of it! I began running a list through my mind of what I could do later, debating over which of the many choices I should choose, and what to do first. I skidded to a halt in front of the house, slipping off my shoes and trying to clean myself off a bit before I went inside. Mom really hated it when I was dirty.

I stepped through the wooden front door, closing it as quiet as possible. All I needed was mom nagging me about my chores. For surely if she found I was done with the work my father assigned me earlier, it would be no hassle for me to finish some of her errands. I crept towards the loft’s ladder, trying to be as quiet as possible. The floor creaked softly below me, as if whispering me words of encouragement. With a hushed sigh, I gripped the sides of the ladder, and made my way up. About six rungs up I could reach my fishing pole, if I stretched as far as I could reach.

Just when my fingers closed around the rod’s base and I began moving back down the ladder, I heard a quiet but firm cough, of my mom announcing her presence behind me. I turned, my face contorted in with an expression mixed with apology, a bit of fear, and the best fake smile I could conjure. She looked angry, brows drawn together and her small hands on her hips, tapping her foot. Despite the fact my mom was shorter than I was, I was sure she could scare off a horde of bandits with one of her fierce glares.

“Young man, I certainly hope you weren’t intending to go fishing the rest of the day!” she scoffed, lips pursed together in a tight frown, “Because a mature lad would know that it’s his duty to take some of his poor aging mother’s burdens!” I nodded, knowing that fighting with her wouldn’t get me any less work. She stomped over towards the table, snatched up a parcel that lay there, and tossed it at me. Then she crossed her arms and nodded towards the door. “It’s for Miss Landon down the road. I expect you back in an hour. If I hear about any loitering you can expect a good whipping when you get back!”

Of course I’ve never really been whipped before. But that was probably because I always obeyed my mom, and never had to find out if she was bluffing about the whole whipping thing. But something told me that she was the type that didn’t make idle threats. I slinked around her and shot out the door, sprinting down towards the Landon house. I knew it wouldn’t take long if I hurried, and hopefully when I got back my mother wouldn’t have any more work for me, and I could sneak out for a few hours of good fishing before I would have to hit the sack.

We weren’t the richest town, but we certainly weren’t the poorest. Most of the time everyone had enough food to feed their families, and when they didn’t, their neighbors would be kind enough to lend a hand and donate a coin or two. Our houses were small but rarely in disrepair, save if there was a particularly powerful storm, or the occasional fire that broke out during the dry seasons. The soles of my leather boots thudded as I ran towards the house.

The Landon house was pretty much a clone of my own, except with a small attic with a round window. That was where the Miss Landon’s niece lived. Her name was Annalisa. She was cute with a heart shaped face, and big round brown eyes. She was shy, so I rarely saw her whenever I came over. Occasionally I would glance back at the house, and as I left I would see her staring out of the circular window at me. I had tried waving at her, but she only jumped back and flung the curtains closed.

I ran a hand through my hair, hoping that the brown locks weren’t in too much of disarray. I tapped three times on the door, and took a step back to wait. I heard someone yell something, and then a lot of loud banging. I couldn’t help but smile. Miss Landon was sweet as her niece, but she was the hugest klutz I’ve ever met. I wonder if Annalisa had the same lack of coordination as her aunt.

I wasn’t sure how Annalisa ended up living with her aunt, but my mom told me it was wiser to just not ask. Then she went on and on, preaching about how I should learn to mind my own business. The door flew open and Miss Landon just about fell out, as she pulled what appeared to be woman’s undergarments out of her frizzy hair. I couldn’t fight the blush that rose onto my cheeks. “Uh, Miss Landon…” I began, as she stood up and gave me a small smile. It was quite a dazzling grin, and I couldn’t help but imagine Annalisa smiling at me like that. My blush worsened. “I have a package for you from my mom…” I finally spat out, shoving the neatly wrapped parcel out in front of me like it had some sort of disease.

She gave me a small nod and a grateful look. “Thank you Beobi. I really appreciate you getting it over here so fast. Send your mom my greetings, will ya?” she said, glancing nervously behind her, “I wish I could chat for longer Beobi, but it’s laundry day and things aren’t going so well… Farewell Beobi, be safe!” And with that she shut the door in my face. I had opened my mouth, as if to say something in protest, but I didn’t waste my breath talking to the Birch wood door. Instead I turned on my heel, and began to stride away. I looked over my shoulder, catching a quick view of the house.

In the window stood Annalisa, staring at me with those big round chocolate colored eyes. Her golden hair was pulled back behind her in a pony tail, bouncy curls tumbling over her shoulders like sunny waterfalls. I just about melted where I stood. She raised one of her perfect petite hands and waved at me. She waved at me! She actually waved! My face broke into a grin that stretched ear to ear. I began raising my hand to return her small gesture, heart thumping in my chest like a wild rabbit in a cage two sizes too small.

Then I tripped over a rock. My foot hit the large stone, propelling my body forward, I flailed my arms helplessly for a split second, and then I hit the earth. I cursed loudly, before I realized how foul the word was, and couldn’t help but bite my tongue. If my parents ever heard a word like that escape my lips! I’d be dead meat! I blinked, remembering I had just fallen in front of Annalisa. I flipped over quickly, looking up at the window. The blonde haired beauty was gone. Laughing until she keeled over no doubt…

I fisted the dirt angrily. My one chance to interact with the nymph who was Annalisa, and not only had I blown it, I had ripped my best work pants. I hadn’t even been trying to impress her! I growled again. Just my luck… With a huff of defeat, I pulled myself off the ground and glared at the rock. I snarled furiously, and kicked it as hard as I could. It tumbled through the air like a missile, and blew through someone’s window with a loud crash.

I gasped, and bulleted off, high-tailing it away from the scene of the crime. By the time I finally threw open the door and fell into my own house, I was panting like I had just been running from a pack of rabid wolves. My mom was working in the kitchen, and by the smell wafting through the air, I guessed she was making some sort of meaty stew. It smelled delicious. She must have sensed my mouth watering, and without turning around she called back to me.

“It will be done soon. If you want I can put it in a tin and you can take it to go. Your father won’t be back tonight. He got a surprise order and he’ll be gone until morning.” I noticed the tinge of sadness in her voice. The normal biting edge was gone, and no matter how well she tried to hide it, I could tell she was upset. “I was looking forward to an evening all to myself, and unless you want to sit in a corner for a few hours and twiddle your thumbs, I suggest you find somewhere else to be for the evening.”

I grinned like a fox who had found an unguarded hen house. “Yes ma’m!” I just near shouted, bouncing over to where my fishing rod was, before retreating towards the door before she could change her mind. I didn’t grab the tin of food she’d prepared for me, my stomach no longer on my mind. “I’ll be back by nightfall.” I said quietly, and she nodded without turning around. Then I left, closing the door silently behind me. I took a quick look around our farm, a familiar feeling creeping under my skin.

I felt like I was being watched. Preyed on by some unseen being, ready to pounce on me like a ferocious jaguar, and devour me alive like I was a defenseless field mouse. Well, not that ominous of a feeling, but close enough. Somehow I knew that whatever way I left, I would be walking into some sort of peril. I licked my lips, trying to find away to escape the invisible predator. I walked with long confident strides. But apparently, this wasn’t enough to deter the beast’s attack.

Soon I was face first in the dirt, grappling with the form on top of me. Despite my vigorous struggles, I found myself pinned to the ground, staring up at the vicious creature above me. “Beooo…” he groaned at me, a jaunty grin stretching over his face, “I see you’re still the worst fighter in the town.” My brows drew together and my cheeks flushed. I wasn’t a bad fighter. I just didn’t feel like fighting. I could have him begging for mercy if I really wanted. Not really, but it was a nice thought at times like these.

He pulled himself off of my and held out a hand. I took it without thinking, and after he’d pulled me up a good foot he let go and I fell back down, gasping as pain riveted up my spine. I glared at him. He began laughing, but held out his hand again, winking quickly. “Sorry Beo. You’re just way too easy!” he joked, raising an eyebrow as I swatted his hand away and got up myself. Damned bastard.

He was taller than me, and overall (As far as I, and most of the girls in the village, saw) much more attractive. He was fifteen, only two years older than me, but he had a very mature face. It was shaped almost wolf-like, with slanted eyes, icy blue like a new winter frost. Sometimes we would catch each other’s eyes and I would find myself frozen dead in my place. He had tan skin, and shaggy black hair that was arguably messier than mine. Then of course you couldn’t forget his infamous feral smirk! It was the kind of smile that had ladies dropping left and right, and even the occasional man.

I crossed my arms and marched away, lips drawn into an angry pout. He followed after me, gliding more than he did walk. I was envious. I bounced along ungracefully, occasionally stumbling over a crack in the ground. “You know, you really remind me of your mother sometimes. You two have the same angry face. Fur-ee-ussss.” He crooned with a chuckle. I spun around and glared at him. Me? Look like my mother!? I think not! Never! I snarled and lunged at him, but he caught me, forcing me to the ground in a single movement. Sometimes I hated him more than anyone in the world.

“Beo, Beo! Calm down! I’m just kidding around with you! No need to fuss and get your panties in a knot!” he said, removing the hand that had forced my face into the dirt. I grumbled a few curses at him, and he mocked a hurt expression. “Cuts me like a knife Beo! Like a knife!” he then took his index finger and ran it from the corner of his eye down his cheeks, as if he were crying, “Tear!” My mouth betrayed me and twitched into a smile.

“You’re such a loser!” I teased, brushing the dirt off of my pants, narrowing my eyes at him again. He took a deep breath, holding his stomach. “Poor, poor little Beo…” he joked, throwing his arm around my shoulder and urging me to start walking. He had picked up my fishing rod and handed it back to me. I held it tight to my chest, figuring it would be the only defense against him I had. He moved his hand back off my shoulders, pushing his thumbs into the hem of his pants and walking with his hands stylishly on his hips.

“So Beo, where will we be fishing today?” he asked, kicking a rock off the path, “The old shack I’m guessing?” Of course he was right. I rarely fished anywhere else, except maybe the North Falls. But it was cold out, and the spray from the cascading water would be even icier than usual. I wore barely enough to keep myself insulated from the cold as it was, and suddenly wished I’d fished my heavy jacket out of the trunk. I gave a light shiver.

He moved his hands, clasping them behind his head. The old mill was a good way away, and it had become almost customary to remain silent on our way there. Instead I occupied myself with observing my surroundings, eyes flicking back and forth as I stumbled along. The trees had turned color, littering the paths with fallen leaves of amber, scarlet, and gold. And all that left was the hibernating trees, black branches spindling up towards the sky like wooden soldiers. We had left the small town, and had a short walk through a small forest before it broke off into fields.

The woodland army seemed to stretch on for miles and miles. The sleeping trees creaked and moaned as we passed through, the occasional gust of wind barreling through, causing the trees to chatter and complain with creaks and cracks and the rustle of the swirling leaves. “Beo…” came the voice beside me, and I blinked, snapping out of the trance cast by the winter wood, “What are you going to do when you come of age?”

I licked my lips. I’d never really thought about it before. I was just a farmer’s boy, destined to be a farmer when I grew up, as were my sons and grandchildren. It was a depressing thought, really. “Beo?” he said, poking me in the side, “You hear me Beo?” I shut my eyes and let out a long sigh. I turned to look at him as we walked, shrugging. “I don’t know. What can I do? I’m a farm rat, nothing more. What are you going to do? It has to be a lot more interesting than what I have planned. “

“Ah, Beo. You’re not just a farm rat. You’re my farm rat.” He said with a chuckle, “I don’t know, but I’m sure as heck leaving here! This town is too small for me! I’m a big barracuda trapped in a tiny fish bowl. I think it’s about time I left to explore the ocean.” I glanced over at him again with a raised eyebrow. He met my gaze and smiled, turning back up to the sky. “You should come with me Beo. We could do anything! Bounty hunters, knights, even thieves! Kit and Beo, masters of the night!”

“As if my mom would ever let me do anything like that! She’d hang me before I could even ask!” I said, making a choking noise. It earned another snicker from the male beside me. We had exited the woods, and I couldn’t help but be awed by the fields that now engulfed the scenery. Beyond the miles of fields lay tall mountains, faint ghosts on the horizon. I smiled faintly. It was such a beautiful place and so far away from the bustling busy streets of our village.

The wind carried the scent of a faint floral aroma, brushing past my nose and exciting my senses. I breathed deeply the clear, crisp air and released a long content breath. There was no sound here, save Kit and I’s shoes on the sandy path. A strange aura of peace seemed to fill the area, a sense of serenity and calm, of tranquility and inspiration. It made my heart swell in my chest, and shivers ricochet down my spine like lightning bolts.

After a few more minutes of walking in silence, I began to catch the gurgling and bubbling of the nearby river, and my pace quickened. We would be there soon. Kit seemed to be thinking about something, his eyes staid with thought. I couldn’t help but wonder what he could be thinking about. But that was Kit. When he wasn’t playing around, or causing trouble, he was thinking. More importantly, he was dreaming.

I wished I had the same drive that Kit had, at times. I think that his dreams were the main reason people liked him. His zeal for the future was infectious, and traveled to whomever he met. Even now, he mesmerized me. I was never quite too sure how we became friends. Or why he had chosen to hang out with me rather than the other boys. After all, there were a good number of others his age, boys cooler than me, and probably much more fun to hang around. I was like a moldy old biscuit compared to his other choices.

He must have felt me staring at me, because he snapped out of his daze and turned to me. “What?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. I shrugged and shook my head. “Oh, nothing. You just seemed real deep in thought. Just trying to figure out what about.” I replied. He grinned and reached over to ruffle my hair. I grimaced. As if it wasn’t messy enough as it was! He pointed ahead of him and I turned back to follow his finger. The river ran just a few dozen feet away, rushing past an old run down shack.

I ran to get there first, moving to the shack. A heavy piece of wood blocked the door, so no one would be troubled to go in. But of course, I knew the real way to enter. I moved to the side of the building, moving aside a crate that was pushed against the rotting wood wall. Behind it was a small hole, only big enough to squirm through. I dropped to my stomach and wormed my way in.

The inside was just as messy as the outside. As far as we know no one had used the shack for years, so we ended up claiming it as our very own storage and club house. If you could call the two of us a club, anyway. I threw aside a cloth covering a large pile, pulling up what appeared to be a bucket full to the top with rich brown soil. I pushed the bucket through the hole with a little effort, and then crawled back out. By the time I set it down by the river’s edge, Kit was pulling off his shirt.