To Protect a Prince

The marketplace was bustling with energy today. Sir Gordie Thewlis scanned the crowd, using his eagle eyes and military training to search out any possible threat to Queen Rosamund, Princess Rosebud, Consort Velvet and the tiny Prince Simon. Even from his perch atop the carriage, he could see Simon's blond head in the goat pen, relentlessly chasing an auburn rooster in a futile attempt to catch it. Rosebud laughed as Velvet climbed over the fence and tried to help the 3-year old catch the errant fowl, but neither was successful, instead ending up in a laughing heap on the clean, crisp hay.

Wow!

He thought to himself.

Has it really been three years since little Simon was born?

Three years since Sir Roger had been killed and Velvet had volunteered to carry the babe to complete the royal line. He watched as the toddler gave Velvet a big kiss and the twosome arose, heading for the princess and the queen.

That's my boy.

He thought, his heart swelling with pride. No one knew that Prince Simon was his, but since the princess had been deflowered and was not pregnant before Roger's demise, the sacrifice that he and Velvet had made had ensured the progression of the royal line and the happiness of the two women.

His thoughts moved back to the night that the two women had reunited; Velvet had returned to the Sister Estate after spending 10 months in exile and Princess Rosebud had finally been allowed to know the truth. He had seen love conquer anger, shame and loneliness and in shedding his cold, martial exterior, had been welcomed into their circle of love. All should have been well – except that he was still lonely.

His eyes fell upon men, women, boys and girls dressed in various types of garb, from simple burlap robes to fashionable silks, but few paid attention to the royals. Every once in a while, there would be someone that was trying to shake the women down, trying to blackmail them and threatening to expose their relationship, but no one minded any more. Rosebud and Velvet were accepted and no one could harm their princesses. Gordie was so proud and happy to be included in their small circle of friends but he wished that their fairy tale romance would happen to him.

Just then, he spotted little Simon standing alone in the center of the cart-rutted road, his hands full of dirt. He was obviously more interested in making a dirt hill than keeping up with his parents. Sir Gordie's prideful smile quickly melted into concern as he noticed a cask-laden cart heading for the center of the marketplace, heading straight for the unaware child. The saliva dried in his mouth as he tried to find Rosebud and Velvet in the crowd.

"

Princess! Velvet!

"

Oblivious to his shout, Velvet had already turned, sensing that the child was gone and fear colored her features. She spoke a few words to the princess and left her in the care of the queen, quickly re-tracing their steps, her eyes skimming the crowd for her son. Prince Simon added more dirt to his hill and placed a thick twig in one corner of it, clapping his hands with glee even as the cart bore down upon him.

Gordie launched himself from the carriage's roof and began to make his way toward the young lad, leaving muttered excuses in his wake as he elbowed and jostled several market patrons. He was just parallel to the cart and he shouted to get the driver's attention, but nothing worked. The plough-horses kept moving forward, shouldering their heavy load as they struggled up a small hill, heading for the valley where Simon was. Velvet came to the top of the opposite hill at the same time the cart began to head down and both she and Gordie screamed.

A blur dressed in black sprinted across the road, scooping the unsuspecting prince up and safely depositing him on the other side of the worn track as the horses and cart rumbled past. Prince Simon was calm for a moment, then began to cry when he realized that something extraordinary had happened and that he didn't know the stranger. Velvet reached him before Gordie and she knelt, giving the child a hard hug.

"Are you all right?" She visually checked him out and finding him safe, she turned to the stranger. "Thank you very much. I am in your debt, sir."

"You owe me no debt." His silky voice announced. "I was a boy once upon a time, too."

Sir Gordie was surprised to find that his voice was not working. The stranger was a tall young man with dark blue eyes and a thick black raven's wing of hair that fell across his right eye. He was dressed in sturdy leathers, with thick-soled boots and a waist-belt that held a broadsword and a jeweled dagger. His pack was well-worn and the smile he presented was wary, but somewhat sincere.

Princess Rosebud came running up and yanked Simon into her arms, cradling and cooing to him, her hand resting on Velvet's shoulder. The stranger's eyes caught the hand connection, then moved from the dark woman's face to the white woman's face and he suddenly smiled. "You're the princess!" He grinned as Rosebud blushed. "And you must be Velvet."

"Consort Velvet to you, sir."

The impossibly blue eyes turned on Gordie, suddenly scrutinizing him as if he were not connected with the ladies. "Forgive me." He turned and bowed to the ladies. "I was on my way to your Sister Estate to beg an audience with you."

"An audience with me?" Velvet asked. "What for?"

"I hear that you are interested in building a new castle near the marshlands. I was hoping to convince you to use my services."

"Your services?" Gordie had decided that since he was unable to control his emotions, he would rely on his military bearing. "And exactly what services are you offering?"

This time, the young man did not favor the ladies with his attention. He stretched upward to his full height, making Gordie feel like a midget since he was only 5' 7", and gazed down at him. The shorter man was quite handsome, in his military suit, his blond hair and goatee precisely trimmed, but it was his green eyes that caught and held his attention. There were sprinkles of gold dancing in his irises and a tiny group of freckles on the bridge of his nose. And he wasn't intimidated in the least.

"My name is Sam Weatherly and I am a professional builder." He bowed low to the ladies again, smiling at the queen and turned back to Gordie. "And you are ... "

"Sir Gordie Thewlis,

royal

seneschal." "Ah,

royal

seneschal." Sam fought the urge to smirk at the seneschal's emphasis, but he knew the importance. "Then you're just the man I want to see."

"Mr. Weatherly, we owe you a huge debt of gratitude for the rescue of our young prince." Rosebud said. "Would you join us for dinner at the castle? You can meet my father and we can further discuss your building credentials."

"Would it be possible if I could come by tomorrow?" He hefted his pack, his eyes on the retreating sun, dipping below the horizon. "I need to secure a room before it gets too late."

"Nonsense!" Queen Rosamund exclaimed, desperately trying to ignore her grandson's frantic tugs on her hand. "You must stay with us." She glanced at her seneschal with a wicked smile. "

I

insist."

Sam thought for a moment. He had heard wonderful things about this royal family. The princess was a porcelain doll with brown hair and hazel eyes and she was so obviously in love with the black woman who had womanly curves but was built like a warrior. The queen was a motherly type, seeming to be pre-occupied with the child, but had a wily twinkle in her eyes. But the part of this familial picture that commanded his attention was Sir Gordie. He was wondering if his stiff upper lip was as moist and pink as his plump bottom one.

I'd love to find out ...

"All right." He smiled, looking directly at Gordie. "Lead the way."

* * * * *

Dinner had been exquisite. King Simon had requested that Velvet cook his dinners since she was so adept at bringing excitement to the table. This evening's fare of baked and stuffed chicken was so tender that when she untied the bound bird on his plate, it fell apart in a juicy mound. The rice and vegetables that had been stuffed within were fragrant and moist and the quince tarts were flaky and tasted of butter and lavender.

Sam ate with relish, knowing that he was being treated to a meal fit for royalty and sat back with a full stomach, smiling at the king who was ruefully rubbing his own. "That, dear sire, was the best dinner I have ever eaten."

"Thank Velvet." Simon belched, reaching for his mug of ale. "She is our resident chef."

He turned to Velvet. "Thank you, Consort Velvet. It was truly a fantastic meal."

"Nothing but a small repayment for saving little Simon's life today, sir."

"Then may I take another tart?"

Velvet's face lighted as everyone laughed at the newcomer's cheekiness. "Help yourself but don't complain to me tomorrow when you have a stomach ache!"

Gordie had been silent throughout the meal, warring with his emotions as he observed the builder. Whenever he looked at the young man, his penis gave a painful twitch and his stomach felt like it was tied in knots. He had no doubt that he was interested in him but he wondered if he should get involved with someone who was bound to drift away. He decided against a relationship and heaving a deep sigh, arose with military flourish. "If you'll excuse me, I have rounds to see to."

The group watched him depart but no one as interested as Sam.

* * * * *

It was nearly midnight when Gordie sought his bed. Rounds had gone like clockwork, but he had spent a few hours gazing into the darkness, his thoughts on his attraction to Sam. He had not known that he was gay, not until he had punished Sir Roger as he lay dying. He could still remember how that first thrust felt. It was like being inside a silk-lined hand. The untried muscles had encircled his aching member, providing suction that made his very spine tingle.

Roger had screamed curses at him, but to no avail. Soon, he was involuntarily moving against the seneschal, begging for one last cum before the light died in his eyes. Gordie didn't care; he was repaying the vicious warrior for the same act he'd done to Velvet and in his anger, he'd discovered that he was gay. He pulled his penis out and watched as the fat, spongy head stretched the sphincter and the thick shaft glided up inside Sir Roger's body, stopping only when his blond pubes brushed his ass.

With Roger's breaths coming shorter and shorter, Gordie pounded into his body, his skin tingling as every inch of buried flesh sang with sensation, his balls swinging under and slapping the warrior's. "Oh, yeah," He growled, feeling his balls draw up as his climax approached. "I'm going to cum in your ass. Oh!" A series of electrical charges coursed down the length of his penis as he ejaculated into Roger's bowels.

Gordie had come away from that encounter with a startling new look at himself and had shared it with those whom he considered his family. They, of course, had accepted him with open arms and open hearts.

And now ... Sam.

Maybe he could have survived by using his military training to protect his heart, but he now knew it wouldn't have worked. He wanted a companion. He wanted a lover. He wanted Sam.

"A penny for your thoughts."

Sam stepped out of the shadows where he had been observing the seneschal and moved out onto the parapet.

"Oh, hello, Sam. You startled me." Gordie tried to hide his erection by pivoting away. "It's late. Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Yes, as should you." The young man countered, his eyes scanning the unreadable darkness. "What keeps the royal seneschal up so late?"

"Nothing in particular. Just thinking."

"About what?"

Gordie turned to glare at him. "Why are you so interested?"

"Because you interest me."

Sam saw the look on Gordie's face as the words slipped from his mouth.

Did I really say that?

He suddenly felt uncomfortable, wondering what the hell was going on in his own mind. In all his 30 years, he never recalled actually wanting a commitment. It was easy enough to fuck them and leave them. But to want to stay, to be interested in someone?

"

I

interest you?"

"Yes." He searched for a way to get out of what he had said. "I, uh, I've always been interested in castle security."

Gordie felt himself deflate. So it hadn't been what he thought it was. "Not much to it if you know what you're doing." He said gruffly, arising and heading for the doorway. "I'll bid you good night."

"Wait."

What was he doing?

Sam felt himself stride over to the smaller man and gaze down into those swampy green eyes. He was so close that he could smell the musky smell of Gordie's body, combined with the tang of sweat and the sweetness of leather. Sam wanted to press kisses and bites along the side of Gordie's neck, to nibble on his ear lobes, to suck that fat bottom lip into his mouth, following with his tongue.

Gordie felt paralyzed as he looked up into Sam's hooded eyes. He was amazed to find sadness there.

Maybe he's lonely, too?

He didn't know why, but he found himself raising his hands to cup the taller man's face, his fingers sliding around Sam's neck to pull him down.

It seemed as if time had stopped, as if no one else existed except them. Gordie's mouth connected with Sam's and a deep groan escaped both men as a connection was forged between them. Sam pulled Gordie close, melting as the blond's fingers twined in his hair, forcing the kiss to become more passionate. Their tongues fought, like two divining rods searching for water and with a whimper of submission, Gordie became a slave to Sam's passion.

Finally, Gordie broke the kiss, disengaging himself from Sam's hard embrace, his fingers touching his bruised lips as reality reared its ugly head.

He will leave you.

His pounding heart reminded him.

What would give him a reason to stay?

"I – I can't do this."

"Why?" Sam watched Gordie retreat, his heart crumbling in his chest as he frantically replayed his words, trying to figure out what went wrong.

One thing he did know. Gordie Thewlis was his soulmate. It was up to him to convince the seneschal.

* * * * *

Gordie slept restlessly that night. His dreams were filled with blue eyes and bodies pressed together. He had felt Sam's erection as it pressed against his and he was desperately trying to forget the feelings that had moved through his body. He had known at once that he wanted to feel Sam's body covering him, that he ached to be filled by the builder but his fear and insecurity had stopped him. After all, a handsome man like Sam would be a magnet to others. What could a shy, untried man like himself offer?

He flung his feet over the side of the bed, lazily rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when something caught his eye. On his nightstand sat a colorful arrangement of flowers in a pewter mug and with a flutter of his heart, Gordie knew who had left them: Sam. There was a small note tucked into the handle's space and he opened it with shaking fingers.

Good morning, Gordie. I hope that you are not upset with me for last night's kiss. I have been thinking about your lips all night and have been unable to get them off my mind or the feeling of them off my lips. You felt so good in my arms that you made me forget how long it's been since I've had a real connection with someone.

Anyway, I would like to make it up to you by taking you on a picnic this afternoon. Velvet and Rosebud have both said that you work entirely too much so this will be a chance for you to relax and a chance for me to get to know you. I hope that you will join me. With hope, Sam

Gordie hadn't realized that he was holding his breath until his chest began to hurt. He read the note a second and third time, reveling in the intentions that he read beneath the words and found himself smiling as he traced Sam's graceful script.

But what do I do?

He craved Sam's companionship but he dreaded the broken heart that would accompany it.

What do I do?

* * * * *

"Velvet! Rosebud!"

Velvet leaped out of her chair, the princess close behind her as Gordie entered their rooms, his hair wild and his face contorted with worry. "Gordie! What's wrong?"

"I desperately need your help! I have a date and I have nothing to wear!"

* * * * *

Sam held the horses' bridles as he patiently waited for Gordie. A few minutes ago, Princess Rosebud and Prince Simon had come outside and let him know that Gordie was almost ready and that he would be down shortly. Little Simon had offered him a shy smile and a manly handshake and Rosebud had pressed a sisterly kiss to his cheek. Then, they had disappeared into the stable, leaving him to stew in his worries alone.

Perhaps he's changed his mind.

Remembering the look of fear on Gordie's face last night, Sam reasoned that he could have decided that he'd made a mistake. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and patted Inferno and Lightning's necks as they pranced impatiently. "Just a few minutes more, lads." He murmured, trying to convince himself as well. "Just a few minutes more."

He didn't see Gordie until he was nearly at the stableyard's entrance, just a few yards from where he stood with the horses and Sam was glad that he didn't. The man approaching him wasn't the staid royal seneschal he'd kissed last night; he was a handsome, sexy blond dressed in tight riding breeches and a white shirt with ruffles down the center. His hair was tousled and the natural curls had been allowed to remain, softening his features. Sam felt himself harden.

"Hi." Gordie said, shyly. "Sorry to make you wait so long."

"You were worth waiting for." Sam forced the words out of his suddenly dry throat. The blush that covered Gordie's fair features made his heart skip a beat.

He dressed for me!

Sam realized as Gordie took Inferno's reins and swung effortlessly into the saddle.

"Shall we?"

Since Gordie was familiar with the area, Sam allowed him to choose the picnic spot and as they rode, the seneschal pointed out landmarks and important areas of interest. But he was only interested in the change, the

breathtaking

change in the young man. They finally came to a halt at a place Gordie called the Southern Table, a huge promontory that jutted out over the crashing sea. Gulls wheeled overhead and salty mist moistened the air.

"This is one of my favorite places." Gordie said, leading the horses to a protected area where they could graze. He took the blanket from Sam with a gleeful smile. "Let's have our picnic under that tree."

On the huge bedspread, Sam opened his packs, presenting his picnic items to his date. There was Cook's famous potato salad, with crispy chunks of applewood-smoked bacon, warm slices of roasted beef with horseradish sauce, leftover slices of Velvet's juicy chicken, pickled beets and thick slices of apple pie, covered with a brown sugar and pecan topcrust. Gordie's mouth watered.

"Wow, you certainly know how to pack a lunch!"

Sam smiled and handed him a fork, stroking Gordie's fingers as their hands touched. "Dig in."

Thirty minutes later, Gordie groaned as he patted his stuffed stomach. "Oh, that was so good. I've got to get up before I fall asleep." He arose and leaned against the tree's thick trunk.

"Hey, you're not done yet." Sam grabbed a piece of apple pie and walked over to him. "Cook will be upset if she found out that you didn't have any dessert!"

"Sam, I don't have any room!"

"Are you sure?" Sam nudged a tasty morsel against Gordie's lips, their eyes meeting as the blond man's lips parted, admitting the sweet. Sam broke off another piece and fed it to him, gasping as Gordie sucked on his fingertip. Sam leaned in for a kiss, but Gordie moved away suddenly, his eyes as tempestuous as the sea that broke below them.