A Mercenary and a Cleric Fall in Love

Lynne had just finished taking inventory of the weapons tent for the  evening.  Normally it was Frederick’s job to take stock of the Shepherds  armaments, but tonight he asked Lynne to take over as he needed to go  into the nearest town to find a painter he considered “worthy of  capturing his highness’s royal visage.”  While Lynne had planned on  going into town herself, she happily told Frederick that it would be her  pleasure to check the weapon’s tent.  

The tent flap in front of  her opened with a soft woosh, and Lynne looked up from the sword she was  examining to see Inigo step in inside the tent, a charming smile on his  face.  “Lynne, you’re looking lovely as always,” he said, walking up to  her table.  

She chuckled softly.  “Hello Inigo, it’s nice to see you here.  What brings you to the weapons tent so late?”  

“You, of course!  I was wondering if you would care to join me for a cup of tea later this evening.”

She set the sword back down on the table.  “Have all the other ladies turned you down already?”

His  cheeks turned pink.  “Ah, well, they all seem to be terribly busy.  I  hoped I would find you in here, I know you’ll always go for tea with me.   So how about it, will you join me?”

Lynne bit her lip.  She  enjoyed having tea with Inigo occasionally, he reminded her of the  younger children from the orphanage she grew up in.  But she had wanted  to go into town and treat herself to something like a stronger staff or a  music box.  She looked back at his big brown eyes and sighed.  “Of  course I’ll join you for tea.”  

He grinned wide, reminding her of  a puppy who just received a big treat.  “Then I believe we have a date,  my lady,” he said, holding out his arm to her.  Lynne took his elbow  gently and followed him out into the night.

The teahouse was just  the sort of place Lynne imagined Inigo bringing his paramours.  It was  called The Teaflower, and the walls were covered in soft green plants,  and the tables all had a small vase that held a single pink carnation.   Lynne held her mug with both hands, letting the warmth of her tea seep  into her fingers.  She thought the teahouse was more cutesy than  romantic, something a little old grandmother would appreciate more than a  potential girlfriend.  She found it it easy to imagine Inigo taking his  mother to a place like this as he chattered about

“-traveling  musicians will often come here on warm nights like this, and the  shopkeeper always gives them a plate of fresh scones,” he said, taking a  bite from his own pastry.  “The strawberry ones are the best with a cup  of Earl Grey.”

Lynne chuckled and pointed to her chin.  “Inigo, I think you have a little something right there,” she smiled softly.  

He  blanched and hastily wiped his chin.  “F-forgive me!  I can’t believe I  would let myself get dirty on a date with a beautiful young lady.”

“Oh I don’t mind,” she said simply, “It reminds me of the little children I would look after from the orphanage.”

He winced.  “That’s harsh.”

“Oh no!” She said quickly.  “No, I didn’t mean to insult you, it’s cute.  Like a puppy.”

He pouted.  “I’m not a strong and dashing wolf?”

She burst into laughter.  “How on earth are wolves dashing?”

“They dash when they run fast.”

She covered her mouth and fought back a fit of giggles.  “How apt, wolves are dashing when they dash.”

He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head.  “They are very swift creatures, as I’m sure you know.”

“How can I not? I’m having tea with one right now.”  

Inigo reached for his cup of tea and almost knocked it over in a fit of laughter.  “Grrrr,” he grinned.  

“Now  you’re a puppy again,” Lynne smiled.  The door behind him chimed, and  she looked up to see a small group of musicians carrying their  instruments through the door.  Her breath caught in her throat.

Inigo  turned around in his chair to see what she was staring at.  “Ah, I knew  they would be coming in tonight.  Their music always makes me want to  dance,” he said, doing a little jig in his seat.

She swallowed and  nodded, looking back down at her tea.  The musicians began playing a  folk tune that reminded her of sailing. She tapped her finger to the  familiar beat and hummed under her breath.

Inigo looked at Lynne and smiled. “Would you like to dance with me?”

She turned bright red. “No, oh no. Thank you for the offer though.”

He tried again. “You seem to be enjoying the song so much, do you know it?”

She  bit her lip, embarrassed. “I used to hear it when I was younger. It was  always played at the oceanfront when I would go into the market.  I’ve  always liked it.”

He turned back to the musicians, glancing at the  singer’s easy smile. “Would you like to join them? They’ll often let  the audience sing along if they know the song. And with your lovely  guidance and my musical talent,  I’m sure we would make a perfect duo.”

She shook her head hard. “No, no. I don’t like singing.  And I couldn’t possibly do as well as they’re doing now.”

“Nonsense, I think you could do a much better job. You were humming it perfectly a minute ago.”

She  squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.  She hated it when anyone caught  her singing, even humming.  She should have known better than to lose  herself to the music.

“You don’t have to sing in front of everyone,” his tone softened, “you can just sing for me.”

“Inigo,” she said, “I really don’t sing well.  I’d much rather listen to them than-”

“Please,” he interrupted, suddenly serious.  “Will you please sing for me?”

Lynne  was taken aback.  She had never really seen him so intense about  something before.  “Alright, but just this once,” she said, defeated.  

She  kept her voice low and stared into her teacup, her cheeks burning.   “Friday morning we set sail and it wasn’t too far from the land when  the captain spied a fair mermaid with a comb and a glass in her hand.   Oh the ocean waves do roll, stormy winds do blow.  And we poor sailors  go skipping to the tubs while the landlubbers lie down below below  below, while the landlubbers lie down below.”

He leaned across the table, his eyes wide.  “Go on,” he said softly.  “Please keep singing.”

Lynne  nervously tucked a lock of heir behind her ear.  “Up spoke the first  mate of our gallant ship, and a fine young man was he.  He said ‘I have a  wife in Salem-by-the-sea, but tonight a widow she will be,” her heart  panged in her chest for the fictitious man’s lover.  “Oh the ocean waves  do roll…”  

As Lynne sang more of the song her voice grew clearer  and stronger.  She could feel all the pain from the wives and  girlfriends the sailors were singing behind and  the increasing fear  from the men themselves as the mermaid drew closer.  Her voice rose and  fell as she sang, emotion spilling from her mouth.  She finished the  song with a sigh as the ship full o sailors sank to the ocean, her heart  seeming to fall with them.  

Inigo stared at her in stunned silence.  “Lynne,” he said, his eyes wide.  “That was beautiful.”

She  looked up, suddenly aware of where she was.  “I-I,” she stammered.  Her  eyes darted around the room, praying that no one else had heard.  

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” he was awestruck.  “Wow…”

She  suddenly pushed away from the table.  “T-thank you for the tea,” she  said quickly.  “But I have to go.”  She rushed towards the door.

“Lynne, wait!” He called after her, reaching for her hand.  

“I’ll  see you back at camp!” She threw over her shoulder, flying out of the  tea shop.  Her legs shook as she ran all the way back to camp.  She  couldn’t believe she had actually sang in front of another person, let  alone Inigo.  She wished he would forget it, wished she could crawl away  and hide if he didn’t.  She hoped the gods would be gracious and make  him forget.

She sincerely doubted her luck would be that good.  After all, she had never seen him look at another woman the way he  looked at her while she sang.