Romance Short Story

Hey guys! Long time no post! My bad. I've been very busy over the last twelve or so months, what with university, work, youtube, novel writing (I'm at 55,000 words!), social life, netball, etc., and because of this I kind of forgot about the blog. To be perfectly honest I'm not entirely sure why I still have the blog, seeing as I never post anything. It was originally a way for me to practice my journalism skills and now... now it just kind of sits there.

A few days ago I received feedback on my Romance Short Story that I submitted for my creative writing class at uni, and I was so pleased with the feedback my tutor gave me! Just for fun, I thought I'd post the short story here on my blog, just in case anyone was interested and wanted to give it a read.

The ending is rushed, because I only had 1,500 words, and at the time I wasn't super happy with the story, but overall I'm glad that I submitted it the way I did, considering the grade I received. So, yeah. If you want, give the story a read and leave some feedback for me, maybe?

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An Arrowed Heart

Jessamine looked up when she heard the door to the tavern swinging open. Her green eyes narrowed when she saw who stood there. Ansel always did have a way of showing up exactly when she least wanted to see him. Especially after a few days ago, when she’d beaten him in the archery tournament and he’d accused her of using witchcraft to win. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the villagers not to burn her at the stake. None of them had wanted to believe that a woman could beat not just a man, but a hunter in the King’s Guard, without the use of sorcery. She hadn’t been allowed to keep her winnings, and she was barred from entering any competitions in the future, but at least she was alive.

The crisp air floated in from the now open doorway, causing her to shiver slightly as it washed over her. Either someone noticed her reaction, or they were feeling just as annoyed by the exposure to the elements as she was, and the door was pulled shut with a bang. Jessamine picked up the cloth she had been using to wipe down the filthy bar. She knew full well that no matter how hard she scrubbed against the wooden surface, she could never quite succeed in wiping off the stains that had accumulated. She had, however, managed to give herself several splinters.

She winced as she pulled on one, unaware that Ansel had made his way over to where she was standing, and was now sitting on the stool in front of her.

‘Can we talk?’ he asked, his usually boisterous tone somewhat dulled. She determinedly looked away from him, concentrating on the stubborn sliver of wood currently imbedded in her skin.

‘Jessamine?’ When she didn’t reply, he continued, apparently unaware of the cocktail of emotions bubbling up inside her. ‘Look,’ he began, his voice low enough so as not to be overheard. ‘I know you’re angry with me. But I really think we should talk about this.’

‘Nothing to talk about,’ she said, still trying to dig her nail under the splinter in order to pull it free. She knew without looking that his dark eyes were watching her movements carefully. She hated the calculating look in his gaze, but she hated herself more for always trying to guess what he was thinking. Despite everything, Ansel was fascinating to her. And he had become even more so after they had come up against each other in her first archery tournament. More than once over the past few days she had caught herself thinking about the day they had met.

The tavern had been open late, and she and the only other barmaid were working hard to keep things running smoothly. A few pints of mead had been spilled, all from the crowd of rowdy men who were celebrating their participation in the annual King’s Hunt. Jessamine gathered none of them had actually been successful in catching anything, but even just participating in the Hunt was considered a great honor.

The door to the tavern swung open, and everyone went quiet. Jessamine looked up from where she had been mopping, to see a man standing there, his dark hair matted with blood, and dirt covering his tight-fitted shirt, showing off the muscles beneath. He remained stationary for a few moments, his gaze travelling around the room until it landed on Jessamine. Almost like a hunter, seeking out his prey. Without taking his eyes off of her, he wolf-whistled, and three men entered the tavern, dragging the carcass of a boar behind them.

‘Hey!’ she said loudly, marching over to them as they pulled the dead animal further in.

‘Is there a problem miss?’ he had asked.

‘You can’t bring that in here!’ She waved a hand in the direction of the boar.

His reply was drowned out by the sound of applause erupting from the crowd behind them.

‘Way to go Ansel!’

The man - Ansel - indulged the crowd with a smile and a wave.

One of the men who had entered the tavern with Ansel spoke up, raising his voice to ensure he could be heard. Jessamine recognised him as Emerick, one of the regular patrons she often entertained late at night. ‘The King’s Hunt is over for another year,’ he continued, ‘and a single man was successful in killing one of the wild beasts plaguing the forest.’ He clapped Ansel hard on the back and raised a mug Jessamine hadn’t seen him pick up. ‘To Ansel!’

‘To Ansel!’ chorused the crowd. Jessamine rolled her eyes and returned to her place behind the bar, unaware that Ansel was following her.

‘May I buy you a drink?’ She looked up, surprised to see him standing there.

‘I’m working,’ she replied. ‘And very soon I’m going to have to clean the blood left behind by your kill.’ His cheeks flamed with colour. Jessamine smirked slightly, glad to see he at least had a shred of remorse for dragging a dead animal through her establishment.

‘Have I offended you in some way?’

Jessamine sighed. ‘No, I suppose you haven’t.’ She picked up a tray and began collecting the empty mugs men had left on the bar. ‘I just don’t have the time to talk.’

Ansel remained seated a few seconds, before standing up and assisting her collect the mugs from around the tavern. When he had gathered up the last few, he set them down on the bar and looked at her expectantly. She tried to hide the smile that threatened to cross her lips, but knew she had failed.

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But just one drink.’

One turned into three, and before long the morning sun was peering in through the window, and he had left, promising to return. When he didn’t, Jessamine had been angrier than she’d ever been in her life. He didn’t reappear until a few months later, as an entrant in the same same archery tournament she was determined to win.

It had taken a little under a year of practicing a few hours everyday, but eventually Jessamine had beaten him and everyone else in the tournament, leading to the argument that had broken out a few days ago. An argument that had nearly ended with her execution.

‘Jessamine?’

Ansel’s voice pulled her from her memories and dropped her unceremoniously in the present. He was still sitting in front of her, remorse painted on his face.

‘What do you want me to say Ansel?’ she asked finally. ‘That I forgive you? That it wasn’t your fault I almost burnt at the stake?’

‘I’m sorry.’ His voice sounded as though he’d been crying. She looked at him then, truly looked, and sure enough she could see that his eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. She felt a sense of guilt course through her.

‘Ansel-’ she began, but he cut her off.

‘I am so sorry for everything. I didn’t mean to yell at the the tournament like I did. I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself for allowing you to beat me.’

‘Allowing me?’ She slammed her hands down on the bar, ignoring the startled looks from the patrons surrounding them. ‘I beat you because I was better than you. Because I spent hours practicing everyday, instead of spending them boasting about how good I was.’

An awkward silence fell over them as they pondered her words. Jessamine resumed her quest to remove the splinter from her thumb, just to give herself something to do. She was surprised when Ansel reached out and took her hand in his own, and was surprised at herself when she didn’t immediately pull away. His thumb traced faint circles at the back of her hand, causing a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Slowly, he began to work the splinter free of her skin.

Jessamine watched as he stuck his tongue between his teeth, concentrating hard on what he was doing. She smiled slightly as she realised he would do the same thing when setting up a shot for the tournament. She felt a pang of guilt as she realised the two would never again be able to compete against each other. Despite herself, she had come to find that the competition between the two of them was what she had enjoyed the most about the tournament.

‘I’m sorry too,’ she said, startling him.

‘You have nothing to be sorry for.’

She smiled at him. ‘I’m sorry we won’t be able to compete against each other again.’

‘So am I.’ With a final tug, the splinter sprang free, and Ansel lifted her thumb to his lips. ‘I was coming to like seeing you so competitive.’

She cocked an eyebrow at him, taking note of the way his hands felt against hers.

‘You know I’m competitive in more than just archery.’

Ansel laughed, before pulling her in for a searing kiss. She hadn’t been expecting it, but soon relaxed, tilting her head slightly to give him better access.

‘So,’ he said once he’d pulled away. ‘What else are you competitive in?’

She rolled her eyes and pulled him in for another kiss, letting her actions speak for themselves. After all, he was the only hunter she knew of who could consistently catch his prey. It couldn’t come as much of a shock to him that he had managed to capture her heart as well.