thatched roof cottage runer's home


Birds of a Feather

Devan was standing outside of Trudy’s. “You fucking coward,” she screeched, “you had better let me in!”

Muttering every curse she knew, the soul washer walked around the perimeter once more, shaking her fist and throwing rocks at the windows. All to no avail. Either the bitch was not at home, which was possible, she and Rowan had become something of a twosome, or she was inside laughing at her. Laughing…that was the most likely while she was fucking some young stud. Pulling up her dress she mooned the window.

“I can wait, for a bit,” she hissed as she went to the altar, hiked up her skirt, sat down on top of it and pissed.   “Take that for my offering,” she screeched at the house as she stood up and then realized she had piss all down the back of her legs. “Fuck you!” she screamed at the house again as she went in search of a creek.

“How,” she spewed as she walked into the water, “am I going to explain to Rowan that I cannot come and go out of The Gate.   Who,” she hissed, “had the audacity to overwork Trudy’s Runes. Fucking witches and their fucking way of being oh so righteous and little Miss Goody Two-Shoes. I hate every fucking one of them. They should all burn and burn some more and then still burn. I assured Rowan this was a done deal. That I could poison that fucking dragon at anytime. By all that is unholy, I hate him.”

“Which one?” whispered in her mind. “Rowan, Eitilt or,” and then her nipples got hard and she sat down into the creek to wash herself. She was filthy, and needed to be cleansed. “Or is it Keevan that you hate?” and then in her brain she laughed and laughed and laughed because they both knew the answer to that. She did not hate Keevan, oh no. She hated that she had not bedded him, could not bed him, would not bed him. The cold water made her nipples even harder and other parts of her began to warm up as she squirmed around on the rocky bottom, wanting something more than herself. Holding the image of Keevan mounting her as dragon, she sat there until she grunted and felt the current try to push her along.

“Fuck,” she spit into the spring, marking this water for the next few minutes as hers. Taking her shawl from around her shoulders, standing, she dipped it in and then trudged back up to the cottage. Eyeing the altar there was nothing for it. In her rage, she had soiled the stone, now she had to clean it.

Once she started there, there was nothing to be done except to wash the windows and tidy up the thatch.

“Best be off to see Rowan,” she said with a smile when she stood back to admire her handiwork. “Didn’t do much but it looks for the world improved. Not that that bitch would notice,” she said as she rolled her eyes. “You owe me bitch,” she wrote on the side of the house with a bloodied finger. “Well fuck!” she sighed as she spit on it and then began to wash it off. Which left a clean space that you could visibly see. “Nothing to be done for that,” she sighed as she took off her shawl and went back to the creek.   “Now I have to wash the sides of her fucking cottage.” But she had her thoughts to keep her company. Keevan yet lived. If Rowan wanted him dead, he was just going to have to do it himself. “Oh so very funny,” she laughed out loud. “Anyone raises a hand to my sweet boy, I shall pound their soul until there is nothing left and they shall never return to the bosom of home.”

Devan tried not to note her surroundings. Rowan’s staff did a fair of of keeping the floors tidy. She let her eyes venture up but not higher than the tenth stone in the wall. Who knew what dirt lingered there?  Nothing had changed at the castle. Rowan was still a cheap putz with the decorating taste of a cheap whore who did not bathe. Smelled like one as well. Soap and water did not cost much. Was there a reason personal hygiene was not on the top of everyone’s list? There was nothing to do for it except sit with him and talk. Not that she wanted to do that, but then, she wanted to bed Keevan and that had not worked out for her either. “Do not look, do not look,” she kept chanting to herself. “You will see all the webs on the lights and you will never get out of here.”

When it was announced that Devan was in attendance, Rowan danced a little jig before he sat down to receive her. Then the conversation started. Now Rowan wanted to bang his head against the wall. Bang Devan’s head against the wall. And especially bang Trudy’s head against the wall, wherever she was!

“How could the Runes not be there on that door?” he kept asking her. “How is that possible? Trudy marked them with a blood sacrifice. No one,” he felt like weeping, “no one is capable to get past that. Unless Trudy…” and then he did throw something at the wall. “Did she see something she fancied more? She likes the pretty boys. That and big dicks. A pretty face and a big dick is a winning combination for her. And you said there was no response at her house. I bet she was banging him, trying to pass his child off as mine. Fucking bitch!” he screeched.

“It is a new door, Rowan, I believe that is how it was accomplished,” Devan patted him on the hand. “No need to work yourself up into a state. They just took the old one down and put up new. There was no way we could have known Eitilt would do renovations.

If you want the lay of the land, you are going to have to take yourself there and do it. I cannot. Fae come and go and I would be recognized, especially by the thumb-bellas.”

“You know, this is all going to shit,” he eyed her. “I hate it when things go to shit. You can slip in that stuff and end up at the bottom of the pile. I want to be the King of All-the-Fae, not King of the Bottom of the Shit Pile.”

“Do not,” she stood and was in his face, “think to offer me up to the old ones because this is not being handed to you. That you actually have to do a little work, which I know is something new and foreign to you.”

“No need to be mean about it,” he glared at her. “And the work I do is…”

“Please,” she sneered at him. “The only work you do is keeping your dick hard for the next lovely that believes your lies.”

“That may be,” he smiled charmingly, “but it is work. May I entice you? I find that I am raging hard.”

Laughing, she patted him on the face. “Get your ass and raging hard to Eitilt’s and get yourself inside. Find his chamber and we’ll poison whatever we can find.”

“I should inform Trudy,” he began and then stopped when Devan began shaking her head no.

“What?” he asked.

“You do know that she and Eitilt were at one time lovers.   Correct?”

“They what…no, Devan about that you are mistaken.”

“No,” she slowly shook her head. That she knew for a fact.   Once or twice she had come close to pounding Trudy over the head with a rock and let her body float where it might. “I am telling you, that this might not be for the best. Let us not at this time tell Trudy. I doubt that she still has feelings for him…”

“What!” Rowan was on his feet and raging. “She cared for him!”

“As I was saying, now might not be the best time to include Trudy on this decision.   When it comes to pass, you can tell her then. But I do not think I would advise doing it before hand.”

With a mock bow, she left. Yes, right, like he was going to listen to her. Rowan only listened to himself. Trudy’s would be where he would go next. Carefully she fingered the small jug of Pansy that was tied to her belt. There would be just enough this time to keep Keevan as human before the battle started. He would not be allowed anywhere near the killing. Not this time. She was going to forever keep him as human. Keevan was her reward. Something only for her. They would be happy together. He would love her just as she loved him. They would live in a land of perpetual Spring and flowers would always be blooming, the sky blue and happiness would soar where ever they walked. Their love would bring the healing warmth of the sun into the cold places of her heart. The old dark ones had promised her Keevan. She was going to hold them to it.

Rowan was pacing his throne room. There was nothing for it.   Things had gone to shit. It was time for the king to set them to rights. He had to haul his ass to Trudy’s. This might have to involve a little begging. But only if he must.

“Trudy,” Rowan called out facing her cottage. “Trudy please. I said I was sorry. Let me make it up to you.   I am here now and we shall have a fine frolic. I know where we can find another partner. And it can be either sex. And I am even willing for it to be a pretty male with a big dick.” Time passed with no response.

“Trudy,” he bellowed. “Please.”

Taking off his clothes, he sat down on her altar. “See, I swear by all that you hold holy, and I do mean by my very fine ass, there shall be two pretty boys, both with big dicks. And…and I perhaps do not need to be in attendance at all…but I would consider myself blessed if you would let me watch. I know how much you enjoy that.

Trudy,” he screamed. “Trudy,” he screamed, again. “Stop it please,” he whimpered. “You know how much I hate this silence. I will give you anything you want. Just step out and speak to me. Reassure me that you are not in there with…some…big…stud,” he bellowed.

Sobbing he stretched out on her altar. “So, you are fucking,” he cried, “with someone I know and you will not let me in. I thought, I thought we loved each other. That we cared for each other. But I guess not,” he sobbed. “I guess it was all a lie. Just as those around me seek only for my favor. And so they lie…the biggest lie they say behind my back is that I have a worm for a willy. Not true. It is not that small.”

Rolling onto his stomach, he laid his head on his arm and watched the sky. It was a lovely sunset. “I have never seen such blue,” he smiled as he rolled toward the house. “Do you hear me,” he sat up and shook his fist, “this blue, I have never seen such a color.”

With the new dark came silence. It was mocking him. She was mocking him. While she sweltered and slithered in the embrace of another, he was here, cool and comfortable on this rock.   With a hard on, the likes he had not felt in ages.

“This one is the baby making load,” he took his dick and waved it at her window. “He might be tiny but he is mighty,” he shook it around and made smacking noises.

“Oh come on Trudy,” he pleaded. “Do you want me to beg? Because here I am, King Rowan of the fae, pleading and begging you. Please, let me in.”

His voice took on a sly note. “You know what a mess I make. You know I will make a mess all over your altar. And you know that on the night of the next full moon you will be out here licking it off. Now save yourself some humiliation and just let me in.”

Pulling up his pants, he stood and looked at the Runes that ran along the top of her cottage. “I do love you,” he smiled.   “Your strength, your talents, your fine mind. I can wait until you are ready to receive me, my lady,” he bowed. The silence was making him this side of crazy. He needed a drink. And to get laid, and to slit Trudy’s throat.

Pulling down his pants, he squatted and he shit in her yard. Picking it up he yelled, “You fucking bitch,” and threw it at her house. It made a satisfying splat sound and he laughed out loud. “Yes, King Rowan threw shit on Trudy’s. When that rumor starts making the rounds, I will know who was in there with you.   Until then, my dear.”

There was a rustling in the leaves as he turned to go. Looking up, there sat a crow. “King Rowan threw shit on Trudy’s, caw…King Rowan threw shit on Trudy’s…caw…”

“You fucker,” he yelled at the crow.

“King Rowan, you fucker, threw shit on Trudy’s,” the crow continued and chuckled.

“I will throw shit on you, shit for brains,” he screeched.

“Fucker King Shit for Brains Rowan, has a worm for a willy. The king of the fae is begging you to throw shit on him. Baby making load of shit.” The crow chuckled again as it took flight.

“Trudy?” he stepped back. Yes, that was her voice. So, she had been watching him the whole time. He felt joy in his heart! “Trudy wait…my beloved….wait…” he called after her. He had not shifted in an age. He hated having pin feathers to deal with afterwards.   But he still had it, he knew he did! The chase was on! He took flight as a raven and caught up with the crow. Overpowering it, he forced her to the ground and then he mounted her. “Trudy,” he awwked with his raven’s voice.. “Tru-u-u-ud-d-d-y! he awwked even louder as he pumped faster, his small dick at last feeling a snug fit as it surged and pumped out the last of his desire. “Trudy, awk, is the best fuck ever, awwwkkkkkk…” his voice carried to every crow in the area as he felt himself settle back into his skin as the raven fell away.

“Feel better my dear?” he grinned. “I know I do. You led me on a very merry chase. That was fabulous. Best sex I have had in an age. Best sex I have had maybe ever. Let it be known, King Rowan fucked you while you were a crow! Has Eitilt ever been able to say that? Hm-m-m-m, I bet not. Now, let us back to your cottage for some supper and personally, I could go another round and you can tell me how much better I am than Eitilt.” Standing he offered her his hand.

“King Rowan fucked me,” the crow cawed. “King Rowan fucked me…caw…caw…King Rowan…Eitilt is a better lover, Rowan is shit for brains, Eitilt is a better lover…”

“Trudy?” he took a step back. “My Trudy?”

“King Rowan fucked me…crow sex is the best ever…King Rowan likes crow sex the best…” called one last time as the bird turned to eye him, took to the air, hovered above him, defecated on him and then took off into the moonlight.

“King Rowan likes crow sex the best…” It was echoing through the woods as he made his way back to his castle. The ravens and rooks had taken up the call as well. “Eitilt is the perfect lover…”

It was a long trek home. The longest in his history…fucking crows. When he made the jump to the ley line, they flew in with him. It was noisy and humiliating and was there a reason the blasted beaked, eater of guts and tissue claimed kinship with the dragons? “Oh,” he made the connection. “Well, still, they don’t look anything alike,” he mumbled as he walked up to his front door.

“Padd,” he yelled and his voice echoed throughout the chambers, “my office.”

Padd had been waiting for his royal fuck up to turn up. Word had spread among the crows and ravens and then on to every bird in the land. Within minutes, the feathered warriors were sitting on window sills and in pubs discussing the newest of Rowan’s adventures.

“His office,” Padd rolled his eyes. “You always know when he has spent any time on Earth.”

“Just tell me,” Rowan said as he lounged on his throne, slicing an apple with what looked to be a sharp knife. “Really, someone trusted him with a knife,” Padd thought to himself as he began.

“My King,” Padd the lawyer began in his best courtroom voice. “Trudy does not shift to crow…she is dragon in her bones. What made you think she was that crow?”

“Are you sure?” Rowan countered.   “That crow looked like Trudy. Same eye color. Same type of color markings on her breast. She was mocking me just as Trudy would do…sounded just like her.   And, she has this effect on me…makes  me hard in a split in two kind of way.  Only Trudy does that to me.  Of course I thought it was her.

Caw…crow fucker…caw…crow fucker…that was her voice, exactly. What I want to know is what type of charges can you draw up against her?”

“Against Trudy, Rowan? Have you forgotten, she was burned for trafficking in the dark magics? That if you knew she yet lived, that as king, you are held accountable for her still living. The fae would rise up and burn you.”

“So,” he pouted, “am I the rest of my days to be known as Rowan the Crow Fucker?”

“By your own mouth, Rowan,” Padd sadly shook his head. “You have admitted you did this. So this makes you,” he took a deep breath and let it out, “a crow fucker.”

“How,” Rowan frowned, “do I get past this?”

“Not by lies you do not. My advice to you is that you now must fuck one of every fae kinships in the kingdom. We shall proclaim that you are a just king wanting very much to understand each and every subject. Hence the sex.”

“Even the…” he shuddered, “the ravens? You know how much they hate me. And how do I even approach a dragon about that?”

“Well, just make a royal decree that you are willing to bed whoever is willing. That all shall have a chance at being your mate.   Whoever,” he shrugged, “whoever pleases you the most, to them goes the royal prize.”

Taking a bite of apple, Rowan stopped in mid-swallow. By all that was unholy…but, he would have Gael’s child. So who did it matter was his next queen? He had his next heir. “See who is willing, I will entertain one and all,” he smiled as he sat back on this throne.

Padd dropped his trousers.

“Really?” Rowan said. “Your ass resembles that of a…”

“Do not,” Padd said. “You may not comment on anyone’s bodily parts while you are doing the deed. Not before or afterwards, either.”

“Really?” Rowan shuddered. “Padd, I think I’d rather be known as a crow fucker then do you.”

“Just get to it. You might find me most agreeable.”

“Are those really teeth?” he asked as he approached.