Monthly story - male bison-minotaur x gn reader (sfw) (Patreon)

Here's March's story for you! I re-wrote it completely, with an entirely different setting, which is why it's a day later than I wanted to post it, but here it is! Thank you for your feedback on the 'free Tumblr stories' issue - I will begin re-editing them and posting them a couple of times a week on here, in the collection 'Free to access Tumblr stories' or something. 

Sfw this time, with a very light, non-explicit mention of some nsfw activity in the last paragraph. 

Content: Low/renaissance/medieval fantasy setting. A bison-headed minotaur is arrested and thrown in the castle dungeons for a supposedly violent attack on three noblemen, treated like a beast by the jailer, and has some culturally-significant personal property stolen. Gender- and body-neutral reader works as a law clerk for the elderly dragonborn lawyer who takes on his case to get to the bottom of things and see that the minotaur is acquitted of all wrongdoing. Reader's gender isn't mentioned but the context of the story indicates that they are bi/pan, as a past female romantic interest is a character in the story.Wordcount: 6624

Soldiers came to Caersands in the spring, when the roads were passable again after a hard winter, and the rumblings of war with the island nation of Farshoal were kicking off in earnest.

At first, it had proved exciting to have company after company of soldiers — archers, infantrymen, even a small centaur cavalry-archer unit pf bonded riders and centaurs, and, lastly, an aerial squad with heavy, armoured griffins and nimble flying drakes. But after they had eaten the large sea port almost out of provisions, and caused scene after scene by getting drunk and rowdy, either with the locals or with each other during their off-duty hours, and making work for law clerks like you who had to file and process all the charges, attitudes towards them in the town began to sour.

Nobility saw them as little more than ruffians, and the traders and townsfolk found them a nuisance.

Tensions with neighbouring Farshoal put everyone on edge, and as the summer drew on and there was no sign of either diplomacy or open war, things showed no sign of improving.

Halfway through copying out the last document on your long list for the day, you glanced up when the door to your employer’s study opened, and the tall, imposing dragonborn lawyer stepped out. His long, spined tail dragged on the floor, and his usually bright, flaming orange eyes had a distinct dullness to them.

“Sir?” you asked with concern, setting down your quill. The enchanted lamp that threw steady, unwavering light around the small chamber cast the scales of his pearlescent body into starker relief than usual, and made the hollows of his eyes look deeper despite the gemstone orange of his eyes. “Everything alright?”

“Hm? What? Oh, yes,” he sighed, startling a little, as though he’d forgotten his clerk would still be out there. “Yes,” he said again, and wafted a piece of paper held delicately between his clawed fingers in your direction. “This was among the cases put on my desk today. The minotaur who allegedly attacked a group of civilians… A sad affair, I think.”

You nodded. You’d read through the summary earlier. A huge minotaur — and a soldier in the Queen’s army — had apparently gone into some kind of berserker rage and attacked a group of noblemen late at night. He had claimed it had been in defence of someone else, but the noblemen all denied it, and they never found the person he’d claimed to have been protecting. He’d been taken into custody and locked up in a cell in Caersands Castle, awaiting trial. “You don’t normally take criminal cases,” you said to Master Embershard. “Why did this get sent your way? And why isn’t it being dealt with by the military courts?”

“There are no other lawyers available to take it at the moment, and since the nobles are the ones pressing charges, it’s a civilian matter. Gods, I wish it was a simple case of property law, but as it is, I feel obliged to take it since everyone else has their plates full. Something doesn’t add up about this one though. We’ll talk to him tomorrow morning.”

Master Embershard ran a clawed hand over his muzzle and shook his head. The long, ivory horns with their rare, rainbow sheen glinted in the light, and the myriad of pale spines that ran down between them to emerge again at his tail, caught the light of the enchanted lantern. You didn’t know exactly how old he was, but you knew that the older a dragonborn got, the more thorn-like spines they acquired, and the sharper they got. Master Embershard had a lot of spines.

You read through the documents again when you’d finished your day’s work, memorising the names of the nobles involved, and trying to imagine what meeting this supposedly violent minotaur would be like. You’d never met a minotaur. They tended to live in the grasslands much further to the east of the country, and you’d grown up in Caersands; the capital of the duchy that sat on the western coast of the continent. The non-humans you were familiar with were selkies and merfolk, the orcish merchant sailors and the sylvan elves who came to the port city to trade their rich, fruit liquors from the forests to the north. Minotaurs were often found with gnolls and werebears and even hardy satyrs in the gladiatorial rings in other cities, but Caersands had banned fighting pits a century ago.

After a night of broken sleep, you joined Master Embershard and walked with the aged dragonborn through the heaving streets, keeping a close eye on your small purse and large bag.

Two burly orcs stood in fine ducal livery, guarding the bridge to the castle with halberds flashing in the summer sun, but Master Embershard handled the necessary introductions, and you trailed into the castle after him.

Caersands Castle had stood on the promontory of the curved port town for time out of mind, with high-reaching, crenellated towers and a keep at its heart that was squat and solid as a boulder. The rich limestone walls were pitted and stained with age, and the salt in the air sent blood-red rust stains trailing down the masonry from the iron bars and torch brackets, the sight of which put you in a jumpy mood before you were even near the dungeons.

The air grew cold and dank as you descended, and Master Embershard took your arm for a little stability on the stairs as you followed behind the rancid-smelling jailer. The surly man had a mean glint to his eyes and he had the look of a man who enjoyed his position. Cries and moans drifted on the air and you tried not to think about the crimes that the people down here were accused of.

At the end of the row of festering, iron cells, the jailer paused by a solid, ironwood door and unlocked the rusty lock with a massive key. “Careful now, Master Lawyer,” he said to Embershard, leering at him through the gloom with greedy eyes. “This one’s more beast than anything. I’d advise you not to get too close, even though he’s chained.” And with that, he stepped aside and stalked past you, adding, “Shout if you need me, but you’ll have to make it loud. Sometimes I can’t hear over all the racket down here!” He left, cackling at his own poor humour, and the two of you turned your attention to the minotaur in the cell.

Your breath caught when you saw him.

A single shaft of greasy sunlight filtered down through a tiny arrow-slit high in the upper reaches of the wall, and a foul stench filled the air. It was only as you saw a slime of greenish water tracking down the wall that you realised the cell window was only just above the level of water in the moat that surrounded the castle, and you cast Master Embershard a horrified look. This was one of the cells that flooded in the winter.

Master Embershard bristled, his arthritic tail lashing back and forth, then he braced himself and stepped into the room.

As he entered, the minotaur looked up and your eyebrows rose. He was huge; bigger than any orc you’d ever laid eyes on, with colossal sloping shoulders and the dense, curly mane and convex muzzle of a bison. His horns reached outwards in two short, stocky half-moons, steel grey in the poor light of the cell. He was naked to the waist, showing a thick, dark pelt that covered his whole torso, and a short little tail rested on the filthy flagstones beside him. To cover his remaining dignity, a ragged loincloth of undyed linen had been fastened around his hips. To your shock, he was chained from both wrists to a ring in the floor, and around his thick hocks, two shackles had also been secured and bolted.

Horror dropped through you like cold moat-water and you faltered on the spot, though Master Embershard had his wits about him and cleared his throat. “Ajax Heathclear?”

Slowly, dolefully, the minotaur looked at him, although even seated on the ground, he was almost as tall as you two were standing. “Aye,” he replied in a baleful, rumbling bass.

“My name is Everett Embershard, and this is my assistant,” he said, waving a white, clawed hand in your direction and introducing you by name. “I’m going to be representing you at your trial, and I would appreciate it if you could tell me exactly what happened, leaving nothing out.”

The minotaur huffed out a huge breath which fogged in the damp, freezing atmosphere. “What’s the point?” he shrugged, dropping his dark brown gaze to the shackles around his hocks. “Everyone thinks I’m a mindless beast. They’ve already made up their minds.”

“Then it is our job to change them,” Master Embershard said with a testy little snip to his tone that sparked something in your chest. He was going to give this case everything he had, even though it wasn’t his usual fare. Good.

Ajax sighed again, shrugged a huge shoulder, and sat back against the disgusting cell wall to regard both of you. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of ebony brown, and framed by long, thick lashes. His nose looked sore, and you realised that if he was an adult — which you knew from the files he was — then he should have had a golden ring through his nostrils.

“Where’s your ring?” you asked artlessly, butting in while Master Embershard was still regarding him and waiting for him to begin his account of what had happened.

Ajax’s expression darkened and he huffed another rough exhale that blew steam into the space between you. “Took it off me, didn’t they? To cover ‘fees owed for my care’.”

“That’s theft of personal property,” you scowled. “We’ll see about getting it back.”

“Don’t bother.”

Master Embershard took over the proceedings after that, and the two of you listened to Ajax’ account of the attack down by the docks.

“I’d gone down there in my free time to get a break from the barracks,” he said, closing his eyes and speaking softly, as though the recollection of events was particularly draining. As he went on, you could understand why. “We’re not allowed in the upper city, see, but the docks are fine. Heard a commotion up ahead and came round the corner to find three of those peacock nobles beating the shit out of someone on the ground. I’ll admit, it made me see red, so I charged them. Knocked the first one down and sent the second straight into the harbour. Good job it was high tide, or he’d have landed on the silt instead. The third one drew a dagger and came at me —” he leaned his huge, solid torso over to one side to show a long slash that had left bloody marks on his pelt. It hadn’t been stitched or tended to, and it looked like it was going nasty.

Master Embershard made a note to have a physician come and tend to it, and then quietly encouraged him to keep talking.

“— He got me but I’ve got a thick hide,” he growled with a grim kind of sourness. “I stood over the kid on the ground and turned on the remaining fucker. Punched him in the gut to get him to back off, and he and his friend scarpered. The other one was floundering around in the water so I grabbed him by his fancy doublet and hauled him out, and by the time I’d finished throwing him to the gutter like the gold-wrapped turd he is, the kid had disappeared.”

“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?”

“You need a thesaurus?” the minotaur snarled. “Thought you lawyers are wordsmiths. I mean he fucking disappeared.”

“Magic?” Master Embershard said evenly, unfazed by the acrid sarcasm in his client’s tone.

He shrugged, the fight already blustering out of him. “Hell if I know. One minute he was there, and the next when I turned back to him, he wasn’t. There was a smear of blood on the cobbles and that was it. Next thing I knew, the fucking city watch was coming, and I was taken in by four orcs. Tore out my nose ring and stripped me to my small clothes, then dumped me in here. Not sure how long its been since then. Maybe a week?”

If Master Embershard had been able to breathe fire, he would have been spitting sparks by then, but instead, his flaming orange eyes flared bright and he gritted his pointed teeth for a moment. “No witnesses?” he asked sharply.

Ajax shook his great head slowly.

“And no one has looked into the whereabouts of the person you were defending?”

Again, he shook his head.

“Can you describe them? You said they were a child?”

The minotaur’s shoulders slumped. “I dunno. Most people look small to me,” he added with a look at you. For the first time, it carried a touch of humour in it, and you returned it with a shy smile. “It’s hard to tell and I didn’t get much of a look at them. They looked kind of soft? Grey hair maybe? Or light brown? Big eyes. I remember big, brown eyes.”

“Humanoid then?”

“Yeah. And pale skin. Made the bruises stand out.”

“And you met them down by the harbour?” Embershard mused. He turned to you and said, “Possibly worth a visit to your selkie friends to check?”

“They’re private. They won’t like being called as witnesses to a case like this… but they’re good people. It’s worth a trip. I’ll go after this.”

Ajax watched the exchange with his dark, level gaze. “A selkie?” he asked.

“Sounds like it,” Master Embershard nodded. “It was the description of greyish brown hair that made me think of it,” he said. “In all my years, that’s the most common hair colour I’ve encountered among their kind, though admittedly, I’ve had less to do with them than my assistant has.” That was an understatement.

Ajax fixed you with a look but said nothing.

You stayed another half an hour, talking through options with him, until Master Embershard took his leave of his client and promised to get something done about returning his culturally-significant personal items to him, as well as having a physician tend to his wound, and some clothes brought. “Have they fed you decently too?” he asked as he was about to leave.

“Slimy gruel and half rations,” Ajax admitted.

“Vile people,” Embershard hissed. “I’m sorry you have been treated this way, Ajax. Rest assured, I will do everything within my power to see your good name restored and your freedom granted.” He glanced at you and added, “We both will.”

You offered the enormous prisoner a tiny but heartfelt smile, and he heaved a final sigh and shook his head, lowering it and dropping your gaze. He didn’t seem to have the same sense of hope or faith as your employer did.

While Master Embershard dealt with the jailers and Ajax’ condition, he instructed you to take his somewhat elderly riding drake, Clarion, and head out of the port city along the coast to the tiny selkie community about five miles away.

The sun was still high, so you tacked up the plumed drake at Master Embershard’s house, pausing to chat briefly with the ageing harpy, Agata, who was his housekeeper, and then after bribing the drake to let you mount with a chunk of meat that Agata fetched for you from the kitchen, you petted Clarion’s neck and headed out of town.

Built like enormous birds, though wingless and with lizard’s tails to balance them, riding drakes were most commonly used as mounts by dragonborn folk and rarely by humans, and you garnered some odd stares as you and the brightly coloured mount wove your way deftly through the crowd. Clarion had mermaid green scales and feathers all down her neck in a rainbow of colours from red at the crest of her head to violet just before the pommel of the saddle, and her tail had a little bottle-brush of yellow and purple plumage too.

She decided that she quite fancied a little leg-stretch once you were out of the city, and you clung on, laughing, while she broke into a loping trot down the winding, sandy coast road.

At the edge of the selkie village, their stone cottages nestled and perched like birds’ nests along the rocky shoreline, an older woman caught sight of you turning off the main road and raised her head from where she’d been gutting and preparing herring for salting. Seagulls wheeled raucously through the sky above the slate-roofed houses and the sea exhaled soft, white foam against the pebbled shore. This place had always felt restful and timeless to you, and even though you weren’t with Anna anymore, it still felt a little like coming home.

You recognised the older woman as you got a bit nearer, and you dismounted at a polite distance. It was rude to barge into someone else’s settlement uninvited, after all. Especially since you weren’t exactly family here anymore. Your split from Anna had been mutual, but that hadn’t made it easy for either party.

You bowed your head to Anna’s aunt, Melody, and said, “Forgive the intrusion. I’m here for work and was hoping I could speak to you or the elders about the possibility that a young selkie was attacked down by the harbour last week. They might be needed as a witness at the defence of their… uh… ‘defender’, I guess…” Words were Master Embershard’s thing really, and ‘saviour’ had sounded pretentious.

Recognition flashed through her large, brown eyes, though it was quickly masked, and she nodded slowly. “I will confer with the others. Wait here.”

Ouch. Well, fine. You nodded and turned back to see to Clarion, adjusting her harness and the girth that held her riding saddle in place so that she would be comfortable while you waited.

While you were still fussing with her tack, a familiar alto voice spoke your name from behind you and you tensed before turning. “Anna. Hi…” you said with a smile.

She looked good, with her silver-brown hair cut in a neat bob that just grazed her jawline and framed her heart shaped face, accentuating the size and depth of her brown eyes.

“Hey,” she said, and then with a shy smile that she attempted to hide by biting her lower lip, she stepped in close and gave you a friendly hug. “Missed you,” she said with a squeeze before letting go and stepping back. “How have you been?”

“Good,” you said honestly. Relief that you might still be friends washed through you like a wave from the sea. “You?”

“Yeah, same.” The conversation lulled for a moment before she looked at Clarion and then back to you. “What brings you here on Embershard’s drake?”

“Work,” you sighed. “A minotaur was accused of beating three nobles to a pulp down by the docks. He says he was just getting them off someone, and we reckon that someone might have been a selkie.”

Her breath caught. “Sam,” she exhaled, eyes wide. “Shit, the guy’s been locked up for it?”

“It was Sam?” you asked, appalled. Sam was her little brother. No wonder Ajax had thought the selkie was still a child though. Sam had always been small despite the fact that he was eighteen now. “You know what happened then?”

Anna nodded. “Sam said he had finished work at the fishery and was just about to shift and swim home when three humans — rich pricks in fancy clothes from the sound of it — cornered him and started touching his skin, tugging on it and raking their nasty fingers through it.”

Your revulsion at the insult of touching a selkie’s sealskin coat must have showed in your face because Anna smiled a familiar smile and your world turned upside down for just a heartbeat. Old fondness lingered despite the fact that the two of you hadn’t been romantically compatible, and it heartened you to know she still cared for you the way you did for her.

“Anyway, he said he shoved one to get him to back off, but they didn’t like that at all, and started wailing on him. You know what Sam’s like though: he’d sooner hurt a rock on the shore than another person, even in defence of himself. But then, out of nowhere, this big minotaur comes charging in. Sam said he slipped off the dock into the water in the commotion, panicked, put his sealskin on, and just swam home.”

Anna tucked her hair behind her ear, showing the carved, whalebone earrings she always wore. You watched them dangle and catch the light for a moment, and then thought sadly of Ajax’s missing nose ring.

“I didn’t think anything would come of it, but if we can help, I’m sure the elders will do everything they can to make sure your client is acquitted of any wrongdoing.”

You smiled and rolled a stone around under the ball of your foot before looking back up at her. “You selkies are fair folk, in every sense of the word.”

She laughed, but was prevented from replying by the return of her aunt and the small council of elders, accompanied by the young man you recognised as Anna’s younger brother. He sported a fading, yellow bruise around one eye socket and a scab on his lip where it had obviously been split. He looked up at his aunt for permission to speak, and when she nodded, he stepped forward and said in a slightly cracking voice, “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. That minotaur saved my life. I’m sorry I didn’t report it. I was shaken, and I figured he could look after himself.” He looked abashed and suddenly much younger than he really was.

You nodded. “I’ll report back to Master Embershard, and we’ll need to come and take a formal statement from you about what happened. That might be enough. You might not have to come to court to testify in person, but —”

“— I’ll do it if you need me to,” he said fiercely, and you smiled, casting a meaningful look at Anna.

“Alright,” you said to him. “Thank you. I’m sure Ajax will appreciate that.”

“Ajax? That’s his name? The guy who saved me?”

You nodded again.

“Thank him for me?” Sam said, his big eyes only growing bigger. “Please? I… I owe him my life, I’m sure of it. Those nobles were drunk and vicious, and I don’t think they would have stopped til they’d gone too far… If he hadn’t come along when he did…” he shuddered and didn’t finish that thought. “And tell him… tell him I’m sorry I just ran. I was such a mess…”

“I’m sure he’ll understand, and he’ll be grateful you’re going to help now.”

You wrapped things up with the selkies, said a fonder farewell to Anna than you had the last time you’d parted, and turned Clarion back to the city. Before you left, Anna called to you and jogged over, then murmured, “You didn’t tighten this,” and after asking the riding drake if it was alright — to which she got an imperious little huff and a puff of her plumage — Anna adjusted the girth on the saddle so it sat snugly around the drake’s belly once again.

“Thanks,” you smiled, and she nodded and stepped back.

Back in the city, you and Master Embershard prepared for the hearing, and you visited Ajax whenever you could, both to check on his welfare and to keep him informed.

There was one matter that you had asked Master Embershard not to mention to Ajax, and the old dragonborn chuckled and smiled indulgently and let you keep your surprise for the minotaur.

Each time you went to see Ajax, his conditions were slightly better, and his attitude towards you improved. At first, he had been understandably surly and withdrawn, but the more you spoke with him, sat with him, got to know him, the more you could see what a gentle soul he was under all that muscle and bulk and fur. A slow-stoking hope began to kindle in his beautiful eyes and he seemed, tentatively, to be allowing himself to believe he would come out of this alright in the end.

By the end of another week of visiting him daily, you were certain there was no way he could have acted out of a love of violence, the way your opponents’ lawyer was merrily trying to imply.

The day before the hearing, you went to visit Ajax and found him asleep. He was no longer chained, and had been moved to a dry cell with a low, wooden bed. He was lying on his back on top of the thin sheet, breathing steadily with his tail dangling off the edge and swaying slightly back and forth. He’d also had the opportunity to bathe properly as well. He looked so peaceful, you almost didn't want to disturb him, but Master Embershard had asked you to make sure he was fully prepared for the following day.

Knocking softly, you waited to see if he would stir, but he didn’t. You’d been given the key to his cell by the lazy jailer, so you turned it in the lock and pushed the door open. It creaked, and he inhaled more deeply, but he didn’t fully wake until you placed your hand warily on his colossal shoulder and pressed softly.

His big brown eyes opened suddenly, warily, but when he saw you leaning over him, he laughed and blinked. It was the first time you’d heard his laugh, and it rolled through you like welcome thunder on a stifling summer day.

“You startled me,” he said as he sat up, still chuckling, and you stepped back to let him swing his legs off the bed.

“Sorry. I tried to wake you from the door before I came in but you were out like a sleeping dragon.”

Again, he laughed, warm and low. “And now that the dragon is awake?” he asked. “What’s on the cards for today?”

“I just have to go through the procedure for tomorrow with you.”

“Oh,” he said, turning serious. “Alright. You want to sit on the bed since there’s no chair in here?”

“Thanks,” you said, and settled down beside him to go through the remainder of what was looking like a very strong case in his favour, even against three wealthy noblemen.

The heat of his body radiated out from him as you leaned in to show him the documents. Your right thigh pressed up against his left hip at one point, and you thought you heard him take a long, slow inhale, but didn’t dare look up at his face to see his reaction to the contact. You did ease away from him though, in case he though you unprofessional.

All in all, the court hearing went just about as well as it possibly could have done, and the arguments of the three noblemen’s lawyer were destroyed by Master Embershard’s quiet eloquence. The judge was clearly appalled by the behaviour of the noblemen, and with Sam’s testimony, Ajax was acquitted of any wrongdoing.

However, because he had used violence — however justified — against the attackers, Ajax was dismissed from his position in the Queen’s army for use of force against civilians.

Ajax didn’t seem overly bothered by the fact, and you had warned him before the hearing that it was likely to happen. The judge added that recompense for the damage done to Sam and to Ajax, both by the noblemen and by the jailers and city constables who had handled him after the incident, would be paid out in full, according to the arrangements agreed by the two lawyers.

And with that, the hearing drew to a close and Ajax was allowed his freedom once more.

He came up to you and Master Embershard afterwards and shook both your hands with his solid, gentle grip, lingering a little longer on yours than on your dragonborn employer’s, and when he saw Sam and Anna behind you, his ears pulled back and he smiled again. “Hey, kid,” he said to Sam. “Thanks for speaking up.”

“You saved my life,” he said. “It was the least I could do. I’m just sorry I didn’t say anything sooner…”

Ajax shrugged. “All’s well that ends well, I guess. Don’t worry about it.”

“What will you do now?” Sam asked. “I mean… now you’re not with the army and stuff…?”

Again, Ajax gave a twitch of his shoulder. “Trade caravans always need guards. Always wanted to travel…”

Your heart lurched at the thought of him leaving the city, but you had no claim on his attention or affection, no matter how you'd come to like him over the course of recent events.

Anna caught your eye, then waggled her eyebrows before tapping Sam on the shoulder. The two of them said their farewells, and Anna added before they left, “You’re always welcome at the village. Both of you…”

Ajax bowed his great head and turned to you.

Now was as good a time as any, so you reached into your satchel and drew out a small, flat, wooden box and handed it to him.

He frowned, but took it. “What’s this?” he asked.

“Part of the reparations the city owes you. The original was taken and melted down by the jailer. He was ordered to pay for a new one.”

Ajax’s frown deepened and he opened the small latch on the box. When he saw what lay inside, his brown eyes misted with tears and he looked back at you. “Thank you,” he rasped, and drew out the gold ring from the soft lining of the box with careful fingers. You’d ordered it made by an orcish jeweller in the city who had made them for minotaurs before, so you knew it was right.

He slid it easily into his nose and nudged it with his knuckle to make sure it was comfortably seated there, then closed the lid of the box and slipped it into the pocket of his loose, woollen trousers. “I don’t know what to say, other than… thank you.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t find the original in time to stop it from being lost,” you said. “The jailer didn’t tell us where he got it melted down until it was too late.”

Ajax shook his head. “New chapter, new ring,” he said, though you could tell he was being brave. Gold rings like that were usually given by parents or guardians to their children when they reached majority. It had to have meant a lot to him. “Can I hug you?” he asked suddenly, and it was your turn to laugh in surprise.

“Of course.”

He enveloped you in his strong embrace and cupped the back of your head in one hand. You breathed in the scent of him, glad that he’d been given the chance before the hearing to bathe properly after his incarceration in the dungeons. He smelled wonderful, and you let the warmth of his solid body suffuse your much smaller frame through the fabric of his shirt and your clothes for as long as the hug lasted, which felt both like forever and no time at all.

Then he stepped back, his big, black hooves clopping loudly on the stone of the courthouse foyer, and cleared his throat. In a voice that was still rough, he said, “I won’t forget your kindness to me.”

“You know where to find me,” you said, trying not to feel like something fragile was tearing in two inside you, like a shred of tissue paper ripping as he walked away from you.

The rest of that summer was hot and stifling in the city, and you spent much of your free time down at the selkie village on the sea shore with Anna and her brother now that you knew you were welcome as a friend and not a ‘resented ex’. A peace treaty was signed with Farshoal, and the threat of invasion waned and evaporated. Along with it, the soldiers disbanded from the coastal cities, and Caersands returned to normal. Mostly. Anna knew you well enough to know you were pining for something that had never really been yours to begin with.

“Maybe your minotaur will come back here for the winter…” she said over dinner in the village one evening, as autumn ticked around towards winter and the storms lashed the coast and the countryside alike with growing frequency. “No caravans travel over the winter, after all. He’ll need a place to stay…”

“He won’t come here,” you said, staring into your soup with a sinking feeling in your gut that had nothing to do with the rich food settling in your stomach. “Why would he?”

Anna didn’t answer, but one day, you heard a knock at your door in chambers, and looked up to find Anna being ushered in with a sheepish look on her face. “Listen, I know you’re working, but can you take an early lunch today?”

Frowning, you looked out at the perfect, early winter day outside, sunshine glinting off the leaded glass in Master Embershard’s rooms, and nodded. “Sure? I’ll just check first…”

The dragonborn lawyer had an oddly knowing look on his face when you told him Anna was there and was asking if you could take lunch early. He waved his clawed hand and looked at the few papers on his desk. “Take the rest of the day,” he said enigmatically. “There’s not much that needs doing at the moment, and nothing that can’t wait until the morrow. Or perhaps later…”

“If you’re sure…?”

“Begone!” he chuckled, waving his clawed hand like a wizard from a storybook to banish you, and you turned from the room with a smile on your face and curiosity bubbling through you.

Anna took you by the hand and led you through the city with an obvious goal in mind, though she refused to tell you what was going on until you got to the marketplace and saw a huge, mud-spattered caravan unloading the last of their goods into a dockside warehouse just off the large square.

There, heaving a heavy sack of grain onto one shoulder, was a bison-headed minotaur who looked very familiar, even at that distance.

“You meddling little —” you exclaimed to Anna, but she just cackled and pushed you towards him, leaving you to head over alone.

He didn’t look around as he walked towards the warehouse with a burlap sack balanced on each shoulder, so you hovered awkwardly near the merchant caravan and waited for him to return for the next load. A satyr eyed you warily but said nothing, and you cast them a shy smile.

Then, from the shadow of the alleyway near the warehouse, Ajax emerged. He caught sight of you almost straight away and his ears pricked up as he halted abruptly, then began laughing. “Hey-hey! My saviour!” he bellowed and he began to barge his way through the rest of the baffled caravan workers and came to a stop right in front of you, his familiar golden nose ring gleaming bright against the dark of his nose. “Hi,” he breathed. “Gods, it’s good to see you again. What are you doing here?”

“A little birdy engineered it,” you said, gesturing back over your shoulder to where Anna was loitering on the far side of the market square, watching in case the reunion didn’t go as well as she’d hoped.

Ajax laughed — the sound full-bellied and rich and beautiful — and raised his arm to wave ostentatiously at her across the square. She waved back, then turned away, her work apparently done.

“How long til you’re finished here?” you asked, eyeing the half-empty wagons.

“I can ask the boss if I can head off now. Technically I’m only contracted to see the caravan safely to its destination. I don't have to help unload it.”

He checked with a tiger rakshasa who waved him away with a flick of a paw, and he returned to you. “So,” he said. “You want to grab some lunch and catch up?”

You smiled and nodded. “Can’t wait to hear about your adventures.”

As you made your way towards a stall selling hot, freshly-made food, he glanced down at you and said, “I thought about you all the time, you know?”

“You did?”

“Mn.” He nudged a knuckle against his gold nose ring and added, “This meant a lot to me. More than you know, I’d wager.”

You shared a look and nudged his side with your shoulder. “I thought about you a lot too. Wondered if you were alright…”

“You worried about me?” he chuckled.

“Yeah.”

There was a pause, a lull during which he swallowed thickly, and when he spoke again, his voice was muted and a little husky. “Been a long time since I’ve had anyone to worry about me.”

“Well, if you like, you could have someone to worry about you for a long time to come. If you’re interested…”

“I am,” he rumbled. “I think I fell in love with you when you fought for me…”

“Please,” you scoffed, more moved than you wanted to admit by his words. “It was Master Embershard who did the fighting in the courtroom.”

“Both of you did,” he rumbled. “But I’m not interested in the dragonborn. I’m interested in you.”

You flushed hot and couldn’t think of anything to say to that. Joining the short queue for the food stall, you looked up at him again and said, “Do you have somewhere to stay in the city?”

He shook his head.

“You could stay with me, if you like?”

“You’re sure?”

You nodded. “I’m sure.”

“Thank you.”

You spent the afternoon wandering the city, listening to his animated descriptions of raiding parties and summer hail storms and far off places you’d only seen in illustrations, then, when he’d talked himself hoarse and the light had faded, you headed back to your small home above the flower shop that evening. He helped you cook supper, and you ate together at your cramped kitchen table while he regaled you with more stories from the caravan’s adventures over the summer.

That night, he slept in the spare room, but it wasn’t long before he moved into your larger bed, and half as long again until you called it official.

Ajax was as gentle a lover as you could ever have hoped for, and he particularly enjoyed letting you feel the warm band of his gold ring against your skin, pressing it against your body while his tongue worked and his rough, callused hands held your thighs down in a gentle grip.

When he came, it was always with a shuddering groan of satisfaction that made each time feel like the first, and when he lifted your limp and spent body up in his arms and carried you into the bathroom, or simply trailed a warm washcloth over you afterwards, it was the most care anyone had ever taken of you in your whole life.

Ajax made you feel precious, adored, and protected, and you made sure to return the favour with every moment you spent together._

A little bit different from usual this time, but I hope you still enjoyed it!! Link to my masterlist of stories is pinned on Patreon and linked here.