A Small Price to Pay

Features f/f sex. Other interactions are build up. Themes include consensual d/s. Also there is a vampire. Part of a series.

The story takes place in the 15th century, the late middle ages, somewhere in the Holy Roman Empire (medieval proto-Germany).

All characters are over the age of 18.

Character note: Beatrix has body image issues, so you should take her descriptions of herself with a grain of salt. She is very muscular for a woman, but she isn't meant to look all that unfeminine to modern eyes. She would have looked very strange in the era, though.

Six months after Erik arrived at the castle, Beatrix's point of view.

"Come on, let's try again," I said before giving Erik a hand up, hauling him up to his feet. He overcorrected and we ended up tangled together. Luckily I did possess an actual sense of balance, so I managed to make sure we didn't both fall down in a heap.

"Yeah... I just slipped somehow..." he mumbled, staring down at the ground as though it had tripped him on purpose. He grabbed his blunted practice sword off the ground

"You overreached and ended up falling on your ass," I retorted, not unkindly.

He glared at me, but didn't say anything.

"Come on. You just need to improve your footwork and balance a bit. You'll be a master swordsman in no time," I told him.

"Liar."

"Not a lie. Just an exaggeration," I corrected with a smirk.

He sighed. "Alright, Bea. Show me how to stand again,"

I bit my lip. "Right. No problem," I said, trying to ignore the little thrill I always got when he used his nickname for me.

I also tried to ignore the little thrill I got as I pressed my body tight against Erik's and moved his feet into position. We ended up with my crotch pressed firmly against his butt and my hands on his, showing him the proper range of movements that wouldn't get him to fall on his ass again.

We were both wearing a lot of padding, so I couldn't actually feel his body properly like this, but I liked the closeness more than I cared to admit. It made me feel a little wrong, since it's not like anyone else trained like that, but he was also pretty hopeless and needed all the help he could get.

When he seemed to get the hang of it we 'sparred' again, which meant him trying to stick me with the training sword while I tried to dodge. Or rather, very slowly and obviously try to move away. The idea was to get him used to the weapon, understand the kinds of swings he could perform without actually falling on his arse, and in a very general way understand how footwork affected his balance.

Erik's strength wasn't the problem. He had worked a plough or some such for a large part of his life, so he had no problem swinging the dull weapon around. But his balance was very poor and he had a knack for putting his feet in exactly the wrong place. He had conspired to fall on his ass twice, and it seemed to be a recurring theme.

We hadn't even gotten to edge alignment or proper fighting stances. Feints, counterattacks, guards, and the like were a distant dream. An actual spar lay somewhere beyond the horizon.

But it was fun, even when I wasn't manhandling his stolid body around the training ground. He did seem to want to get better at swordsmanship, and I enjoyed teaching him.

After a few more rounds - in which he'd fallen on his arse only once - he looked rather exhausted.

We went to stow our practice gear, both of us gladly stripping off our gambesons. I could fight in plate for hours if I had to, but that didn't mean I had to enjoy it. It was mainly the loss of freedom of movement that bothered me, I mused, as did a few stretching exercises. My body was very flexible, and the loss of that flexibility always rankled.

I glanced at Erik and caught him staring at me. I raised my eyebrows in question. I knew I looked strange, a woman with rippling abs and visible biceps, but he didn't have to stare like that.

He shook his head and went over to the water barrel, splashing some on his face and managing to get some on his thin linen undershirt. It clung to him, showing off his lightly muscled chest to good effect. I quickly looked away before he noticed. It was different, of course. Staring at someone you found attractive was just natural. Staring at someone strange was rude. However, I wasn't keen on explaining the difference to him, especially since he was sometimes sharper than a peasant had any right to be.

Instead, I tried to judge the position of the sun, calculating how long we had until evening. "Want to go for a ride?" I asked. "To our place, I mean. I'd like it if you read to me again," I added casually, trying not to show him how much I actually enjoyed it.

His eyes lit up and he smiled. "I'd love that," he said. "Wait for me by the stables. I want to change my clothes."

"Good idea," I lied, my eyes lingering on the tightness of the damp linen. "I'll change too."

I reached the stables first and asked for Moonlight to be saddled. Moonlight was a gray gelding, dappled around the rear, with a calm and placid disposition. He was a gift from the countess herself, but I found him only fit for pleasant rides in the countryside. When battle was called for, I would ask Saber to be saddled.

Saber was a true warhorse, a stallion, with the temperament of one. He had been my father's before me, and we had grown up together for much of our lives. He had bitten me only twice, which put me in an exclusive group of exactly one. Everyone else he bit at every opportunity. The stableboy was scared of him to death, and only my daily appearance calmed the creature enough not to stampede throughout the keep, tearing down battlements and castle walls as though they were children's toys.

I was feeding him an apple from my hand even now. The stableboy, Rudolf, himself not unused to handling warhorses, stared at me with incredulity. No doubt if he attempted this stunt, he would quickly lose most of his fingers. Saber's jaws were tighter than a steel trap, and his teeth seemed almost as sharp.

I patted Saber's great, brown mane, both to calm him and to inspect it for lice. Luckily, there were none. Moonlight was a pleasant fellow, but if my Saber had been badly cared for there would have been blood.

"I'm just taking Moonlight for a little stroll with Erik," I whispered to him. "I'm sorry I'm not taking you, but I'm afraid you'll try to eat him. So be nice and let Rudolf take good care of you. I know he smells a bit, but he knows his way around horses."

Saber neighed and waved his great head in response.

"Good boy," I told him. "If all his bits are still there when I get back, there will be a special treat for you."

Saber gave me a rather indifferent expression, but it was the best I could hope for.

I went over to Rudolf and gave him a smile, making the young boy blush. "You've been taking good care of him, I see," I said, handing him a penny.

"Thank you milady," the boy exclaimed. "I saddled Moonlight for you. Hope you have a pleasant ride."

"Saddle Erik's horse too, why don't you? He'll be here soon. You know, the one the countess usually lends him."

"Will do, milady," he said, and proceeded to outfit an extremely stolid carthorse who was as likely to bite as fly to the moon.

In another province, one might have raised questions of propriety regarding a young man and a young woman riding off without a chaperone. But anyone raising such questions in the countess's domain was missing a rather large portion of the plot.

Erik soon arrived with a leather bookbag under his arm. He was wearing a rather fetching black doublet, with a motif of lions in repose, together with gray hose.

I waved him over. "Rudolf's saddling your horse for you. What was his name?"

Erik frowned. "Oskar," he said, none too pleased.

"What?" I asked.

"I want a real horse, Bea," he mumbled, for a moment seeming like a spoilt child.

"Won't you get a real horse once horsemaster Jonas says you're ready?"

Erik was receiving basic lessons in horsemanship. He had ridden the draught horse shared by his village many times, but that was not the same as riding a lively horse out in the countryside.

"He has me doing odd things," Erik admitted. "Why do I need to learn how to jump fences if all I want to do is ride a damn gelding on a straight path?"

I blinked. "What else does he have you doing?" I asked carefully.

"Riding without stirrups. Riding bareback. One time he did something to my saddle so it fell away during a canter, and I had to figure out what to do. Honestly, Bea, he's even worse than you. At least you tell me what I'm supposed to accomplish ahead of time."

"Did you ask the countess about that?" I eyed him.

"She just told me that she can't ride horses herself, and trusts that Jonas is doing."

Which was true, but an obvious deflection. I chewed my lip, wondering what to tell him.

He narrowed his eyes. "Something is going on," he accused. "Tell me."

I considered denying everything, but... I honestly didn't want to. "You're right. You're pretty far beyond the basics. I think he's really surprised how far you've gotten and just wants to see how fast he can teach you. He doesn't want to give you a gelding to keep you motivated, I think."

He blinked. "Oh."

I sighed. "It's probably the countess's idea," I admitted. "She's... like that. I honestly don't know if there is anything you can do to change her mind."

"You're not supposed to be telling me this, then?"

"Probably not. But there's no point keeping it quiet. The countess will figure it out somehow. If I've displeased her, I'll know."

Erik was silent for a long moment, considering me with those soft brown eyes of his, before tapping my shoulder with his. "Thanks, Bea," he finally said. "I chose to stay because of the countess. You understand. But you're the one who makes me feel at home."

"Yeah, don't mention it," I said, quickly looking away before he noticed my blush. Stupid earnestness. Gets me every time.

"Oh, there is Oskar now," I said, seeing the large animal being led out of the stables, suddenly eager to be underway. "I'll just go over to Moonlight and check up on him."

Moonlight was fine, as always. I didn't think he even knew how to be upset. He even looked a little dainty, with that smooth gray coat of his. "You should have been born a mare," I told him, but didn't mean it.

After what he'd said, I kept an especially careful eye on Erik. How he mounted his horse, how he rode, and even how he treated him. He was a surprisingly good rider. So much of riding, especially for beginners, seemed to be about getting the body accustomed to the horse's movements. I had that part drilled into me by my father since childhood, but Erik seemed to have skipped that part entirely, and I doubted it had anything to do with the old nag they had by the village.

There was only so much I could learn from watching him ride a draught horse, though. I approached him and had Moonlight match paces with the other horse. "Do you want us to switch horses for a bit?" I offered.

He seemed surprised. "Really? But he's... yours," he said. "I thought you never let others ride your horses."

"Well, yes, but he's... not like Saber. I wouldn't let you ride Saber," though that was mostly because Saber would try to eat him. "Moonlight is fine though. I mean, if it's you."

"Yeah, then I'd like that," he said.

We switched horses for the last leg to our place, and I realized two things. The first one was that Erik was right. Oskar was possibly the dullest horse I'd ever ridden. Possibly even pulling a cart was too exciting a task for the plodding animal. I found I could bring him to a very grudging trot, but even the lightest canter was an idea that seemed beyond comprehension.

I generally didn't dislike horses. Even mean ones. Even boring ones. They were beautiful animals, after all, even those lacking the temperament to be true companions. But something about Oskar rather irked me. Maybe it was his reluctance to any kind of control, or the way he seemed to regard any kind of movement a subpar alternative to standing still. It rather confirmed the idea that Jonas had been told to choose the most uninspired animal he could possibly find.

The second thing I realized was that Erik was quite a good rider. It turned out Moonlight wasn't as placid as I had taken him to be. He'd tried to give Erik a bit of trouble as he was mounting, but a few calming strokes had the animal tame and pleasant once again. I carefully observed Erik's stance as he took the horse to a trot, making sure he wasn't bouncing on poor Moonlight back, and was rather impressed to find Erik's stomach and back compensating for every motion. Though Oskar hardly let me follow Moonlight's canter, Moonlight seemed happy enough by the time Erik had doubled back.

Erik, though, was overjoyed. He was really enjoying himself, and he seemed really taken by Moonlight's agility and speed. More importantly, he treated the animal with the care and respect he deserved. I noticed him smiling broadly, though he always tried to school his expression to something more respectable whenever he noticed me looking. I couldn't help but smile back, feeling something warm and fuzzy bubbling somewhere in my heart.

I really didn't like lending my horses to others, unless there was no other choice. They were my companions, after all, and I couldn't know how another rider might treat them. But watching Erik made me want to bend that policy a little. I hoped the countess wouldn't punish me more severely for it.

It was with smiles still on our faces when we reached 'our place.'

It was a small clearing surrounded by stout oaks, with a carpet of soft green breaking the brown forest floor. We quickly found our habitual place, with him leaning his back against a young tree and me lying in the grass. We shared a small smile as he withdrew the book.

Minnesang, songs of love, were an old and proud tradition that remained popular in the countess's court. I closed my eyes as Erik began to recite the words of the Trojan War, a famous one written by a common-born poet some hundreds of years ago, depicting the romance of that millenia-old conflict.

His voice was low and resonant, very pleasant if ill-suited to singing. In a different life he might have found a home in some theater troupe, acting parts out of old Roman plays, or some of the newer works that were being written throughout the Empire. I felt a spark of heat in my belly, knowing I had that voice all for myself.

The words flowed out of the page, and the sound of the song flowed together with the chirping of birds and the creaking of boughs. I felt myself smiling as a kind of tranquility took hold, and didn't bother hiding my expression. Erik began stroking my hair as he read, the warmth of his hand making me bite my lip and turning that spark of warmth inside me into a building flame of a rather different character.

It lasted for what felt like an hour, but was probably closer to half that. I suddenly felt something was wrong - a crucial ingredient in my perfect moment, lost. I opened my eyes, to find Erik looking down at me. He'd stopped reading.

"You stopped," I pointed out, barely managing to stifle a yawn.

"I was wondering... Bea, have you ever considered taking a lover?"

I squinted up at his face, dazzled a little by the sun. "You mean, instead of the countess?" I asked uncertainly.

"Of course not," he said. "But she doesn't forbid us from taking others."

That was true enough, provided we didn't marry or get with child. I didn't ask why he thought one needed another lover. There was great pleasure to be had, belonging to the countess, but little real intimacy.

I sighed. "It's not that easy. Finding another woman would be complicated... " Women like me were rare, and even fewer had enough standing or protection to make their inclinations known. The only other woman who the countess enjoyed was a little too old for me.

"What about... a man, though?" he asked. He knew I had a desire to lie with both sexes.

I found myself scowling. Men wanted soft women that remained indoors, did their embroidery, and gave them mewling children. Men wouldn't accept women who could best them in anything at all, certainly not one who was stronger than them. They would not understand the idea of a woman heading off to war.

"Men are difficult," I finally said, unwilling to say more on the subject. I supposed not all men were the same. Erik was certainly a little different than most. But surely, he still wanted the same things in a lover. And it wasn't as though he was asking for his own sake.

Erik sighed. "I see," he said thoughtfully.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why? Are you thinking of taking a lover?"

He didn't answer, making me feel an irrational twinge of anger.

"Who is it? Is it that girl Gretel?" I asked, with a little more venom than was called for. I enjoyed knowing he pleasured the countess, just as I did. But the idea of him having some other woman rankled for some reason. Certainly not that idiot Gretel.

"Who?" he asked.

"Gretel," I said weakly. "One of the servant girls. She mentioned something about wanting to... speak to you." In truth, the girl had confided in me that she intended to sneak into Erik's chambers and have him find her lying naked in his bed. Back then, I'd just frowned at her and told her it sounded like a terrible idea. If she told me now, though, it would probably be everything I could do not to bash that pudgy face of hers against a wall.

It wasn't just Erik's good looks that brought about such behavior. When a man became one of the countess's toys he received a certain reputation.

Erik snorted, apparently remembering something. "Oh, that girl. No, she's nothing at all like what I want."

I chewed my lip. So he did want someone. I'd have to find out who. The castle wasn't that big when it came right down to it. Someone would talk.

Erik sighed and smacked the back of his head against the tree, his face clouded. "Bea," he said at length, "I know how much you love me reading to you, but I'd rather ride home for now. I'll make it up to you next time."

I blushed a little. I supposed my enjoyment was rather obvious. "That's alright," I said, wondering what had broken the mood. I supposed it was related to that potential lover of his.

He nodded, and we got up to mount our horses and had a quiet and uneventful ride back to the castle. Erik looked rather put out the whole way back. I even offered to switch horses with him, since he had enjoyed it so much, but he refused.

It was late afternoon when we got back. We passed by the footmen with a curt nod and a 'my lady.' They still weren't sure how to call Erik. Most of them had settled on simply 'boy.'

"Enjoy yourself tonight," Erik said, his eyes a little sad, when we finally rode into the keep.

I smiled back, recalling what I'd told him before he'd met the countess for the first time. I didn't ask him how he knew I was meeting with her tonight. "I will."

Our meeting was still hours away, though. Normally my days were spent training the guards, occasionally riding out to deal with bands of brigands and the like, inspecting the walls, and answering the less important of the countess's letters. I had no duties awaiting me today, having finished the few inspections I'd planned before training with Erik. I made my way to my own small chamber, the one I'd shared with my father before he'd been slain. It was a small bit of luxury I rather treasured. The two knights of the castle slept in the great hall.