The Blacksmith

In any town that Dedra has ever been in she has found the Blacksmith to be the best place to get information.

Moving down the street she takes in the town around her, after so many years of travelling from place to place in search of her past she finds it hard to notice much about each place. When you have seen one set of poorly made buildings and dusty streets you have seen them all. This one only had a old church sitting at its heart to mark it out from the others she had been in. Although you would not know this town had religion since, after the Blacksmith, the tavern and whore house did the best business in town.

That was hardly unusual and it had been one of her great boons over the years. When other sources of income had ran dry she had always been able to find a Whorehouse willing to bring her in with open arms. A few nights of indulging her unending lust for sex would leave her with enough cash to head to the next town, leaving behind her a few men who would recall the night they spent with her for the rest of their lives.

This time she had been lucky, the last town had gotten her no closer to the truth but had netted her a tidy purse of cash after a old man croaked while he was under her. The family had been so ashamed they had sent her on her way with some hush money.

As she gets closer to the Blacksmiths the afterglow begins to fade, once again that hollow sensation starts to creep back into the pit of her stomach. Ever since the day she woke up it has been there, at first she tried to fill it with food. Then she tried drink and poppy milk before finally she had found that sex filled the hole. At least for a little while.

The Blacksmiths was a squat building, huddled between the stables and a Inn. A pair of scruffy looking men give her the eye from the front of the Inn as she walks inside. She had sold off the silk dress she awoke in long ago, partly out of a need for money but also out of fear of what could happen to her. It was not a smart idea to seem to be a rich young woman out alone in the world. She had held onto a single scrap of the dress though, a memento to a past that she sometimes felt would be forever lost to her.

Since then she had worn simple unassuming dresses during the day, plain earthen colours and conservative necklines had served her well in hiding from notice.

She shook her head as she stepped into the smoky heat of the Smiths, trying to get rid of the gloomy thoughts.This was made far easier with the sight of the Blacksmith himself. He was a tall man, standing a good few inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and a build rippling with muscles born of hard work.

His name was Conroy if she recalled, she had done some asking around about him the night before. Learning that he had taken over the Smith after his father passed away from consumption last winter. He was yet to marry and the word around town was that he would end up with the daughter of the owner of the Inn next door. It was apparently being organised by his mother behind the scenes.

For now however he was unattached and as he turned to look at the new comer she could see the spark of desire in his eyes.

With a smile that could make a saint reconsider his vow of celibacy she began to talk. The conversation began safe, simply asking about the cost of re-shoeing her horse. From there she moved on to asking about his life and events around town.

He was easy to talk to, like so many men gifted with an intimidating look he had never needed to use his fists. He spoke softly and carefully, as if scared that the slightest misstep would cause her to fly away like a bird. As they talked Dedra steered the conversation more and more towards him, she found his slightly over earnest love of his work charming and eventually she knew she had to have him.

It was around midday when she decided to make her move, he had just began to tamp down the forge as he got ready to take his lunch break. A funny looking old man with a squint who had came in to complain that his horse shoes cost too much. He had hung around and Dedra had gotten some amusement out of watching Conroy patiently listening to the old man, some how she got the feeling that he did this every day.

When that was done a long moment of silence fell over the Smiths, Dedra could feel the familiar tension in the air that came as a man was working up the courage to ask a woman to dinner. She was not the kind of woman to just wait around for a man to ask and what she was interested was a lot more immediate than dinner.

“Uh…”Conroy began, wringing his big hands as he spoke. “Was thinking maybe you would join me for some dinner?”

She gave him a half smile, stepping close in to him, her diminutive frame only seeming smaller against his bulk. Tilting her head back she looked up into his honest, sweat sheened face.

“I was thinking we could maybe get to know each other a little better.” She mused, her fingers playing little circles around the centre of his chest