Renfaire Fantasy: Practice Begins (Patreon)

    Rebecca led Brian away from the tent where the other girls were looking through her tunics until they stood at the far side of the clearing. This was going to be difficult, because being around him had her feeling antsy all over again—the nervous energy and excitement of anticipation added a little bit more pep to her step it was hard not to be self-conscious of. She normally didn’t spare much thought towards how she walked, so why was she now wondering if she was sashaying her butt a bit more than usual while moving on ahead of him? It was frightfully fun just to imagine those haunting green eyes of his tracking each and every minute sway of her tunic skirting.

    Scandalous ideas seemed to pepper each line of thought she grasped onto, until it was difficult for Rebecca to entertain a notion that didn’t terminate in something naughty.

    “We tap swords, and then—well, you remember, right?” Rebecca tried to wrestle down an anxious smile, and only partially succeeded.

    He was handsome.

    Although that was just about the only thought stubbornly occupying most of the real estate within Rebecca’s mind, that simple statement was strong. Brian was handsome in a way that seemed to punch her in the gut—or maybe just a little bit lower than that. A low blow, an intimate, degrading one that somehow flowered into frantic sensual energy coursing up and down her body. She almost allowed herself to undulate, rock her body along with the imaginary sensation.

    Brian with a beard was handsome.

    He was that handsome, stupidly fucking handsome. Rebecca didn’t even know how to comment on the fact without coming off as creepy. She didn’t have the brainpower when she looked at him to search out other descriptives, because the simple blunt and straightforward way her brain put it was already the perfect fit. Stupidly fucking handsome. Brian was the kind of handsome she wanted to buy a poster print of and press up onto her bedroom wall so that she could spend hours touching herself while gazing up at those eyes of his with manic energy. The rugged cut of his shoulders, the beautiful masculine muscle there in his arms, the manly way facial hair elevated his already sculpted jawline—!

    “Mara?” Brian asked.

    “Right! Sorry,” Rebecca realized he had already extended his sword out for her, and hurried to swipe up and tap it so they could get started. “You um. You—Brian, you’re totally carrying the charm on your person, aren’t you?”

    “I—” Brian paused. “Hah, yeah. I guess I am. You can tell?”

    “Is it possible to… turn it down? A little?” Rebecca wet her lips. “It’s—it’s strong.”

    “I’m maybe feeling it a bit, too,” Brian chuckled. Suddenly it felt like the weight of his eyes as they traveled up and down her figure doubled. “Think the idea was, today we talk about what we want to do with well, us, and then afterwards if we decide on uh, on zapping you in…”

    “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Rebecca nodded. “Right right right. Yeah.”

    Then she stepped in and struck—she wasn’t sure she could completely rely on having the clearest mind right now, so she was going to trust her muscle memory to ferry her on past this awkward situation. Brian’s block was clean, but he didn’t have the swordfighting experience to parry her blade off further to the side, or the instinct to immediately capitalize on her obvious overextension with a counter.

That was okay, because Rebecca wasn’t exactly in top form today. What should have been immediate killing strikes as she eyed his undefended side, the delectable span between his shoulder and neck, and even that brief unguarded window inside his ready stance where a deft stab might slip in all became distracting noise. She instead used her footwork to retreat, dancing back out of range.

    “Hum,” Rebecca pursed her lips in a pout.

    Her well-honed skill at observing an opponent and even her outstanding situational awareness in combat had betrayed her. All because horny stole in through her mind like a fox into a henhouse, and was ravaging all other lines of thought. The familiar feeling for immediate, raw physical aggression had her hackles up, but it was spoiling for the other kind of fight, and trying to immediately reject and discard each eager inappropriate course of action that popped into her mind was actually stalling her into genuine hesitation.

    Bad brains, BAD! Don’t embarrass me in the middle of a proper fight! No! BAD! Wicked, naughty, evil Mara that needs to be PUNISHED!

    With an uncertain smile, Brian explicitly broadcasted his intention to step in and swat his sword at her in a big, slow sweep. Rebecca stepped into the strike, the top of his blade met the base of hers, and she shrugged it away from her body. What she wanted to do next was keep moving in—engaging in a grapple was legal in Daegonhir, and—Rebecca stopped herself with a jolt and jumped backwards again, brandishing her sword up in guard position.

    Except—I’ve gone over exactly zero of the grappling rules and safety stuff for them to do with all of that! Rebecca chided herself. I just. I just want to touch him! I WANT TO BE ALL FUCKING OVER HIM!!

    She’d nearly thrown herself onto him with every intention of tackling him fully to the ground. Once there—well, her body bristled for sex, and straddling him and smothering him with thorough application of her lips and tongue seemed like the smartest move to make, here. Rebecca almost laughed out loud as her thoughts derailed all over again. What a strange handicap this was to spar with!

    This is his first real practice! Need to take this seriously—it’s my responsibility as the local Thane of this unit to teach him!

    Rather salacious hands-on instruction, innuendo that became overt flirting and then unabashed makeouts and heavy petting and then escalated inevitably into outright bodice-ripping violent sex. One after another these ideas wriggled throughout her imagination like an embarrassing juvenile fantasy she’d neglected to outgrow.

    Rebecca had full confidence fighting other combatants with her off hand, or beneath any number of prohibitive restrictions because her talent and experience with swordfighting in Daegonhir was so overwhelming! But, facing off against Brian while he had the stupid harem charm in his pocket actively influencing her was another story entirely, because the damn thing seemed to just grab up all of her inhibitions wholesale, and continuously chuck them all right out the window.

    “We should maybe, um,” Rebecca let slip a giggle that sounded more girlish than she intended. “Put it somewhere safe? The charm, I mean. While we’re uh—while we’re fighting. So that it doesn’t get—broken.”

    She was immediately picturing a vivid crash cut to the kind of rough, intense sex that might result in all kinds of things around them breaking. Twigs, branches. Trees, maybe. A trail of destruction that would bewilder any tracker following their path. Desperate claw marks furrowing the bark here, a pair of sodden panties dangling from the leaves over there. Strange impressions disturbing the ground, fluids spattered about. A lurid cautionary tale for anyone brave enough to hunt the beast with two backs.

    “Oh,” Brian nodded. “Sure, alright. It’s—that bad? You can feel it?”

    “I can feel it!” Rebecca breathed. “It’s strong. Really strong. Like it wants me, wants us… you know. Wants me zapped back in and. And stuff.”

    “Probably a good time for us to figure out like, how much effective range or radius or whatever this thing has, too,” Brian said, flipping up his tunic so that he could reach his pocket. “Was it hitting you like, all at once, or…?”

    “Um,” Rebecca worked her lip and then forced herself to look away from Brian. Any visual clue that he might be removing any clothing was underhanded sexual stimulus that felt like it took hold of something deep inside of her and yanked. “Cumulative? I’d guess? It uh, it builds?”

    “Sorry,” Brian said. “Hey! Miss Andree! Catch!”

    That mischievous wooden trinket sailed across the clearing, and Rebecca saw that to her credit Christine was able to hop forward a step and snatch it out of the air. The silver-haired squire turned a questioning look their way, but Brian waved her off and raised his sword to tap back into the fight. Rebecca didn’t knock boffers with him right away, however—instead taking a deep breath and mentally evaluating the way her mind seemed to settle and solidify back into something resembling normal. The unsubtle influence on her feelings and sex drive fell away in a hurry, but its sudden absence didn’t take with it everything.

    “Weird! Weird!” Rebecca shook out her arms and then tapped swords with Brian. The storm of sexual delirium was surprisingly fun, but it would be great to actually prove her full skill to him, because she did really want to impress him.

    “Weird?” Brian asked.

    “It’s not… false feelings, but,” Rebecca mused. “I don’t know? Like looking at your innermost desires through warped glass? Some aspects—my reservations, my doubts, my um self-control in some things—get squeezed into a line that I can scarcely even observe, while other, more um, obvious parts are swollen out, exaggerated. Magnified.”

    Rebecca lunged in.

    “And, it’s cumulative?” Brian asked, looking down at where Rebecca’s sword had thrust into his stomach. “Wow, I forget how damn quick you are.”

    “Hehe!” Rebecca stepped back. “And um. I think maybe five or six feet, or so? Its range, the area of effect. Started ‘pulling away’ and feeling normal again while it was still in the air, took another few moments for everything to settle, after that.”

    They tapped swords again for a new round, and then Rebecca stepped in and her padded blade cut through the air to take his leg at the knee, up to his shoulder to take his arm, and then curled half a figure-eight through the air to come back around and slash across his chest. It felt a little too easy facing off against him when she could fully focus. Brian was holding his guard too far out away from his body—the way he kept his sword ready needed to retract back in quite a bit more when his opponent darted in this close.

    “Don’t be afraid to tighten in a bit, whenever someone gets right in your face!” Rebecca advised. “Try half-swording when I step in for right now, if you feel that gives you better control. One hand held up here, supporting the blade itself. You always want to keep it between us!”

    “Damn, geez,” Brian chuckled. “Alright, alright. So—you feel more normal again, now?”

    “Sexually? Physically? Romantically? I still have feelings for you,” Rebecca met his eyes with confidence this time. “Just, they’re not overwhelming me… at the moment. I like you. I think I like you a lot, my natural feelings are… just interest, attraction. Feels like a normal crush? When the charm’s nearby, it’s like it… it’s hard to explain.

    “Like if my whole mind is a newspaper tableau, all of my different thoughts and feelings and ideas about things are their own articles across the page. But every thirty seconds or so, the charm bumps up the font size on uhhm, some things in particular so that they stand out more. It’s subtle, like just a single point to the font size?

“At first, it’s just emphasis. Like using bold or italics, things to notice but you can still read through normally. Until, after a while—the text size grows again. It seems like the lead story. And then—the headlines. A front page spread. Everything else is still in there, just it starts to feel buried into the back pages. Not removed, just without as much attention and focus. And, the charm isn’t adding or inserting anything that wasn’t there before, either. Just magnifying!”

    “Okay, hm,” Brian acknowledged, tapping weapons with her again to start the next round. “So, I have to ask—were there trees? Like you had before. Uh, tree theme? Nature? Colors? The thematic sort of innate charm stuff, like the others describe.”

    “Oh! No,” Rebecca shunted a delightfully aggressive attack from Brian off to the side and her riposte planted the stabbing tip of her sword clean into his upper arm, disabling the limb by Daegonhir rules. “I don’t think so?”

    The flagrant raw sexual desire from before was just a certain slick tickle now, but it was absolutely still there—lingering on there in fine print that was still etched across her psyche. Just knowing that it was still there had her thoughts continuing to turn to it. Just that honest fact that she did really want Brian to wrestle her down onto the ground, tear her clothing aside and fuck her until she squealed, until the slap of flesh upon flesh filled the little clearing here felt heavy on her mind. Hiding a desire that provocative down in the tiny terms and conditions-sized text of her inner narrative was something that couldn’t be unseen once it had been seen.

    Brian nodded, tucking his ‘crippled’ left arm behind his back, and closed on her again, sword swishing through the air at her with more strength. With that much force in his swing and the distance between them all wrong for a proper parry, Rebecca sidestepped slightly and leaned to avoid the blow, then advanced in and made to cut for his leg. Brian retracted it by a step just in time and tried to make the most of the opening, but Rebecca swatted his attack off and stepped back out of range.

    “No um, charm imagery or colors or anything like that,” Rebecca explained. “Not yet, anyways? Knock on wood? Hehe.”

    “It’s a relief to hear that it’s not, well, fabricating any feelings, I guess,” Brian sighed. “Or, at least it doesn't seem to be. But, yeah I’m not super thrilled that it’s so blatantly warping feelings, either.”

    “I understand that,” Rebecca agreed. “It seems hungry for more, erm—parcipants?”

    “Yeah,” Brian lunged in and their swords crashed against each other twice more in quick succession, but with no body hits. “That night at the bonfire, it was amping up things between Candace and I, I think. That girl that was sitting with me. Tanya was trying to set us up.”

    “She seemed nice?” Rebecca strangled the pique of jealousy before it could creep up into her expression. That felt new and a bit alien and altogether unwelcome—the charm effect itself when it was working upon her seemed to filter out those sort of things.

    “She is nice,” Brian sighed.

    “But?” Rebecca guessed from his expression.

    “Yeah, but—she’s not you,” Brian said, stepping in again and dying cleanly as Rebecca’s sword met his shoulder with a thwap.

    “Thank you!?” Rebecca beamed. “I think?”

    “You know what I mean,” Brian chuckled, batting away a high strike but failing to defend from a low one. “It’s different.”

    “I—” Rebecca blushed. “I can guess all kinds of meanings, but I confess I feel rather eager to hear your own… elaborations?”

    The back and forth smacking of their weapons faltered away as she allowed Brian a moment to gather his thoughts.

    “We trust you,” Brian said. “I trust you. You’re already one of us, magic or not. We’ve already depended on you so much, and yeah, we owe you a lot for what you did taking Chloe out away from where she could harm everyone and keeping her safe. Safe from the consequences of whatever she might have done, safe enough for us to give her a shot at being Christine.”

    “You don’t owe me anything for that,” Rebecca insisted. “I would have done that for her even if none of the rest of you were in the picture! She’s my friend, and I was in a position to help her with something important.”

     “Either way,” Brian shrugged. “You sacrificed a lot for that, risked a lot for that, and it deserves our natural appreciation. Even all that aside—I just. Yeah, I do just like you, I have feelings for you. I do want you to be a part of, well, I guess a part of our little family. If you’ll have us.”

    “Of course!” Rebecca assured him. “Brian—of course. Of course I will.”

    She honestly wanted to swoon.

    Parts of her were throbbing again, and she couldn’t push blame onto a magic macguffin this time! But, it also felt so different when not under that influence. There was an earnest sort of wholesome thrill that gripped her when he talked to her like this, not the rabid energy of a fox stealing into a coop for slaughter but instead the satisfaction and genuine contentment of having that same vulpine intruder curl up in her lap the first time and accept her affection. The wild element wasn’t gone from this, but rather that Rebecca felt vindicated in proving that the wild animal lust wasn’t the only part of whatever this was between them.

    “After practice today?” Brian suggested. “Just, you and me. Time to ourselves to um. Work through all of that. We don’t have to rush through anything, we can enjoy it.”

    “Sounds like a date!” Rebecca blushed. Kisses! Lots and lots of kisses, and MAGIC! I’m getting to fight Brian and then also fuck him later! I’m getting laid today, aw HELL fuckin’ yeah!!

    She didn’t normally swear to herself, but she was just so excited! Rebecca couldn’t stop smiling, seeing her smile made Brian smile in response, and then giddy gleeful energy almost made dance in place. She wanted to attack him with kisses, and while the compulsion wasn’t comically amplified like when the charm was near, it was authentic and real. These small moments between them weren’t exaggerated to the point that they were occupying a front page spread in giant capital lettering, but they were an important little article she would carefully clip out from everything else and save away to some special scrapbook of her most precious memories.

* * *

    On the other side of the hilltop clearing Brian saw that Emily had donned an enormous bulky brown tunic with a hood now, which fluttered and flapped as she ran about hit-and-run engaging Christine in mock combat with the twin cutlasses. The leggy Christine didn’t display the energy and enthusiasm of her much shorter counterpart there, but she was at least appearing to take it seriously and defend herself with her sword. Kelly had squeezed herself into the ornate princess tunic and was crouched down over by the A-frame tent, trying to reposition the little camp table set up there to her liking. Emily’s phone case had a little flip-out accessory which helped it stand up, but the camp table itself didn’t seem to be on very level ground, and Kelly wasn’t finding the viewpoints good enough for a video set up.

    After a few more savage one-on-one matches which didn’t afford much more room for actual conversation than the simple occasional got me, yeah or oof, good one as hits landed, Rebecca and Brian slowed things down quite a bit so as not to expend themselves entirely before the practice proper started. They continued to trade blows with their short swords as the group waited for the other Daegonhir unit people to arrive, but it was now a casual back and forth exchange, rather than the quick and competitive serious clashes from before.

    “So—what all happened?” Rebecca asked. “The last news I got from you guys was about Christine’s parents, and that was already a while ago. Did all of that with the Masters get resolved?”

    “Whew,” Brian blew out a long breath. “Maybe? Mostly. We think so. I mean, they’re still after us, or out to get us or whatever—the Masters are—but the uh, immediate danger should be cleared up. A friend of a friend from a different future that our Kelly was able to get in touch with paid somebody off, and then they wiped the memory of meeting us from Christine’s dad and his wife before they could actually report us. We think.”

    “Huh,” Rebecca said, tilting her head. “How does Christine feel about that?”

    “Better,” Brian admitted. “She was uh, not so enthused to find out they were Masters, yeah. But—they didn’t seem like the worst kind of Masters. Just, they would be obligated by their Rules or whatever to report us, so. Now we shouldn’t have to worry about them doing that. We do owe a favor for getting that taken care of, and we don’t even really know what that might be just yet.”

    “Okay,” Rebecca nodded. “Then—how do you feel about it? It seems to me like you’ve come to terms with what is and isn’t justified, when it comes to magic manipulation?”

    “I—” Brian started to say, then he stopped and sighed. “Yeah, guess I have. Before I would’ve said what a slippery slope that is, justifying anything, but. Yeah. The girls’ safety turned out to be paramount. Made that choice already when I decided to kiss Chloe into the group. I don’t love what I had to do, but it’s making the call I can live with. Doing my best to take good care of her. I’m not thrilled to uh, to hire some… mercenary mages we’ve never met to go memory wipe a day or two from Christine’s parents—parent and step-parent, whatever. It’s not something to be done lightly. But, it’s what we had to do.”

    “Because, if not then Christine’s dad would have your identities, your addresses, all of that?” Rebecca slowly nodded. “The Masters would have been on you in an instant, once they knew who you are and where you are. Right?”

    “Yeah,” Brian said. “We’ve been trying to brainstorm some diplomatic way of—well. We need to figure out what the issue with them is, and what we need to do to resolve it. The friend of a friend told us the Masters are a necessary evil, and they’re magically locked into some code of Rules, so we must have broken one, or—or something. But, we don’t know what specifically we did wrong. What happened back then with Chad should have just counted as self-defense, since Christine’s dad is part of the Masters. She should have been like, a protected entity.”

    “Chad?” Rebecca cocked her head again.

    “Oh uh, yeah,” Brian remembered. “We know a bit more about who’s after us, now. Maybe. Got a Send in from a future Kelly in an adjacent timeline. Chad was the one who lobotomized himself trying to attack Chl—Christine with magic. The other one from back then calls himself Judas, he’s a ‘Suit.’ Which is like the government spook faction of Masters. Those types. He’s still after us, and now we also should have another one hunting us, code-named ‘Red Herring.’ We don’t know much about her, except that we shouldn’t try directly opposing her. Hoping we’ll be able to just talk with her, negotiate somehow? I just… yeah, it’s a lot. Hate always feeling like we’re all just one misstep or unlucky day from having to drop everything and all go on the run.”

    “Wow,” Rebecca seemed to marvel at all of that. “It’s all just so fascinating to hear all of this kind of stuff again. Like something out of a thriller! I suppose it’s not as fun actually dealing with all of it in real life, though. The secret magic society stuff.”

    “It’s had its perks,” Brian chuckled. “We found out what my charm power is, too. I ‘refresh’ mental and physical states, sorta. Overnight, while we’re passed out—can’t do that uh, consciously, yet. It’s really not all that exciting or impressive. Emily’s been practicing her power, but she won’t tell me what it is. Big secret. If they feed you some bullshit about her summoning food trays from the ether, don’t believe a word of it.”

    “Do you all have names too, now?” Rebecca asked. “Like, magic-world names? Identities?”

    “Well, we have Mischief, Misandry, and Insight,” Brian shrugged. “I’m uh, I’m not gonna pick one for myself, there’s not really any clever name for me, I don’t think? Took me all week to come up with Ser Briar for the LARP thing, I’m all tapped out on names I’m happy with. And, at this rate Stephie’s name in those circles is gonna wind up being The Auditor, or The Feelings Police. Something ominous and terrifying like that.”

    “Okay,” Rebecca said with a pause. “You don’t like your power?”

    “It’s… convenient?” Brian shrugged. “But, it’s not anything too much more than that. Wake up feeling like I already showered and brushed my teeth and everything. We all do. It’s nice? Just, hard not to be disappointed it wasn’t something huge and cool and amazing, uh, meaningful, I guess. Considering everything.”

    “Hug?” Rebecca offered.

    “Hah, sure,” Brian said. “I mean—I’m not that torn up about it. I’m okay. There’s uh, ‘normal’ magic we’re learning too that’s set aside from our innate charm talent stuff. Mostly just like parlor tricks so far, but it’s pretty damn cool. And, things with the girls have been great. Like living in a dream. Can’t complain.”

    “Hug!” Rebecca insisted, batting his sword out of the way and latching both arms firmly around him.

    Her chest seemed modest when hidden in the lines of her historical tunic but became soft abundance when pressed up against him, and Rebecca nestled her face into his neck and latched both hands around him as if they’d been bosom companions their whole lives. Her unruly tangle of hair smelled of warm spice and cinnamon, and he surprised himself by squeezing her in return in an intimate embrace. This felt—natural, right, like they belonged in each other’s arms.

    “Ye Gods,” Rebecca giggled, turning back away from him for just long enough to check back over her shoulder.

    “What?” Brian asked, letting his hands drift down to her waist.

    “I thought—” Rebecca looked back at him, and her lovely face was close, dangerously close, her lips in particular a distracting shade of pink. “I thought maybe Christine—Miss Andree had snuck up behind us. It felt like the charm was back in play again, hah. I guesssss… not? I guess it was just—me?!”

    “It’s not just you,” Brian assured her with a wry smile. “It’s…”

    “Ah, look!” An unfamiliar male voice called from just down the hill. “Aye, we knew this day would come. Mara’s brought a bloody boyfriend to our sacred site. All them days she’s harpin’ on us fer stringin’ in outsiders, an’ hangers-ons, an’ ne’er do wells to our precious Grand Scar, and look! Now she’s finally gone and done tha crime her own bloody self. What a day!”

    “Dwelin…” Rebecca growled.

    Brian could feel Rebecca tense within his arms, but she didn’t push away from him. Instead felt some of the plushness she was presenting replaced with the corded steel of muscle hidden just beneath; he held tight onto Rebecca as she transformed fully into Mara. It was fascinating to see so close up—the change in her expression, her demeanor. It was a character role she slipped into, but it was also the real her. Likewise, Rebecca was a face she put on to show the world, but also a true representation of her. 

    See now why her charm imagery fit her so well. She’s the soft leafy growth stretching out in joy, and she’s also the firm unyielding branches and the trunk beneath. Not one or the other.

    “Dwelin, you whoreson bastard of seven fathers…!” Emily called out. “How dare you of all pit dwarves slander our good Ser Briar’s name?!”

    “Oh, Ser Briar, is it now?” Dwelin finished hiking his way up the hill with huffs and puffs and finally arrived. “My apologies, M’Lord, hah!”

    He was a rather average looking, if somewhat heavyset guy with a bushy beard. He wore overlarge pantaloons of alternating white and red and then an open vest, with a whole small pile of padded swords and axes and maces held under one arm, while the other carried a large round shield with a foaming mug of ale emblazoned across the front. Following after him were three other college-aged guys, all of which were dressed in modern clothing. Hoodies, sneakers, blue jeans.

    These newbies looked around at the viking tent and the swaying flag of the unit standard set up with naked interest, while Dwelin himself seemed simply stunned to see so many gorgeous girls here atop the hill for a unit practice. Kelly, resplendent in her borrowed fancy tunic, lazed on the broadcloth like a princess. Christine, the cold beauty stood at stiff attention clearly in the role as a servant. Emily, all but swimming in the oversized poncho of a beggar’s tunic—the very picture of a cute as a button waif from the kingdom’s slums.

    “Dwelin—pushups,” Mara commanded. “Twenty for swearing in front of the solemn spirit earlier. Twenty more if you fail to apologize for disrespecting our fine guests. Am I understood?”

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/// Will be organizing these into a guide page sorta table of content thing and linking them all together soon! Tonight or tomorrow.