Disclaimer: Crimson Spell is copyright Ayano Yamane, Tokuma Shoten Publishing, and Kitty Media. No infringement or disrespect of the intellectual property rights held by the owners of existing copyrights in Crimson Spell or its derivative works is intended by this non-profit, noncommercial amateur fan fiction.
Description: Sometimes it's tough to shop for other people.
A Recipe for Rabbit Stew
"Really, Rulca, you don't need to buy me anything!"
The market of Ciquetakanay was one of the largest Vald had ever seen, easily four times the size of Alsvieth's largest, and had turned out to be an excellent choice to replenish the provisions – well, Valdrigr and Halvir had found it so, at least. Rulca, who had switched to human form for shopping, was mostly running around finding shiny, useless, expensive things to show Vald.
"No, I insist. After all, your clothes were ruined fighting that slime demon. And then your saddle was ruined when we rode away!"
"Hm," Vald said, taking note of the determined look in Rulca's rose-colored eyes: better something practical then something frivolous. He took a handful of coins from his money bag and transferred them to the pocket of his jacket, then handed the bag to the pink-haired youth. "Alright, if you insist. A new saddle is a good idea."
"And if there's money left over I'll get you a shirt!"
"I – I suppose."
"It's … unusual."
It was the kindest truthful thing Valdrigr could think to say. He wasn't sure what type of animal the saddle was for – or rather what kind of rider. The seat was short, with a noticeable ridge running between the high, almost vertical cantle and pommel. Still, it was of superb craftsmanship, and seemed to fit his horse well, and Rulca looked so hopeful and excited that Vald put his foot in the stirrup and mounted, just to test it out.
It turned out to be more comfortable than he would have supposed.
"So you like it?" Rulca asked anxiously.
"Yes, thank you," Vald said, dismounting. "It was a discerning purchase."
"I bought you a new shirt too." Rulca held up a shimmering, silvery, sleeveless garment.
Vald raised an eyebrow. "Is that chain mail?"
"It looks that way, doesn't it? But it's a special fabric, the merchant said. Lightweight, keeps you warm in winter, cool in summer, and protects against small blades and large arrows."
The prince sighed. "Well … I suppose I can try it out, and wear it until I find something better."
But Rulca wasn't done. "And – these!" He held out two enameled buttons; from each dangled a large kite-shaped piece of metal.
"And those are?" Vald asked. "They seem sort of … garish."
"Ear ornaments," Rulca said, clipping them onto Vald's ears. "They're the height of fashion!"
"I see," Vald said. He wondered who decided these things.
He only lasted an hour once they were on the road. Between the saddle – which cupped and rubbed and slapped him in places that generally he wasn't cupped and rubbed and slapped while riding – the shirt – which was creating sensations in his nipples that he wasn't aware men could have – and the heavy earrings – which after an hour of swaying were tugging and nipping his earlobes most distractingly – he was compelled to jump from his horse with a cry, run some way into the bushes, pull down his breeches, and relieve the pressure in his nether parts in front of two squirrels, a nest of robins and an astonished snake.
When he sheepishly returned to the path, Rulca – who had been sleeping on the pommel of the strange saddle – was nowhere to be found. "What happened to Rulca?" Vald asked Havi.
"I may have said a few words to him, " the sorcerer replied brusquely.
"Carrots. Onions. Salt. Pepper. Fennel. Thyme."
"What are those? Ingredients for a spell?"
"Ingredients for rabbit stew."
~ The end ~
Written for Kink Bingo round 3, card 1, kink 3,4: sex toy, non-penetrating (I relied heavily on what are referred to as "pervertibles" here.
AN: A thank you to Rroselavy for clarifying the exact meaning of "nether parts"
(04) 30 August 2010 ~ and yet a few more words