Friday, March 11, 2016

Friday Flash: Bardsong

Pawel watched her from across the smoke filled tavern, slightly drunk and more than a little curious. Her strumming on the lute was beautiful, but not nearly as much as her lustrous red hair or her curving ample bosom, framed deliciously by her daringly open white shirt and simple woven vest. Pawel knew, right then, that he had to at least talk to her, to meet her. He continued to drink as she continued to play and sing, and it was plainly clear that he wasn't the only one in the crowd who appreciated her for more than just her music. As the evening progressed, and he went from his second beer to his third, the crowd around him gradually grew more raucous.

Her voice began to have difficulty overcoming the generally noise of the crowd, and was thoroughly drowned out when they shifted to catcalls and cheering at the end of every song. Finally it was clear she'd had enough, and she stood, yelling "This is the last song, you dirty rascals!" and began to sing.

"A dragon has come to our village today," she sang loud and clear, and applause broke out as the crowd recognized one of their favorite drinking songs. "We asked him to read but he won't go away," she continued. "He's met with our king..." she made a rude gesture with her hand, tongue in cheek, implying certain indiscretions on the part of the King, "And they've worked out a deal." She began thrusting her hips as the crowd laughed and hollered. "No homes will be burned, and no crops will he steal."

She began the next stanza, "Now there's just one catch, we dislike it so much." Her head shaking, "Twice a year he invites a hot virgin to lunch!" She laughed and bent slightly, allowing the Pawel and the crowd an improved perspective down her blouse. "Well," she straightened again, drawing out the note, "we've no other choice and we've had to much drink," she drank a long draught of ale, and the crowd drank with her. "But still this decision has caused me to think."

She paused again, pondering, as the crowd took up the chorus. "Do virgins taste better than those who are not? Are they saltier, sweeter, more juicy or what?" The crowd roared on, most horribly out of tune and laughing as the girl lewdly depicted eating a virgin. "Do you savor them slowly, or gulp them down on the spot?" From their reactions to her dance, the crowd wouldn't particularly complain at either option. "Do virgins taste better than those who are not?"

The song continued, but Pawel knew that if he wanted to speak with her, he'd have to be in just the right place, at just the right time. He slipped from his perfect spot to watch her and moved away, to the very end of the bar. Right where she would come out and sit, ready for a drink. He'd buy her one first, and maybe even buy some time before the crowd surged in and took all her time. First impressions, and all that.