The Golden Harrow Tavern

Agree to disagree I would say.I wasn't imagining it he was different towards me like a cold slap in the face. "Because of how you treat me." My hands flew up in the air as I was growing tired of explaining myself again and again. "It is no secret that I only stay in Scotland for your friendship! Yet the way you handle this situation has not been the most nicest. When I speak with you; you are completely not the same James that I first got to know. And when I am not in you're company feeling like filth on the bottom of your shoe. I feel as though I should completely move out of Scotland." I could do without his friendship. In time I would learn to adjust without him; maybe not that fine but I would find a way to carry on not recalling our brief friendship.

He could not understand her, she spoke in riddles and seemed to speak of such things that he could not see. Perhaps their union had snapped and was frayed beyond repair. And yet, for some strange reason, the ties he had with Isabel still pulled upon his heart - as if they were still knitted together. He believed - or at least it seemed to him - that she did not want to hear him, did not want to speak with him unless they were inebriated and in fits of laughter. While James never took much convincing to partake in merriment, he could not always be so jovial as if he were a free man. This, he believed, Isabel would never understand. He did not show it for the sake of his pride, but concealed behind his dark and deep eyes - he was saddened by how she now was with him.

"Then I shall go," he concluded dejectedly, "Believe me, Isabel - I would that you would remain here. I offered you a royal seal, a place in my wife's household and have given you my personal guard - what more could I possibly do to demonstrate my affections for you? Yet you will not hear me and so I will say goodbye. You have the name to write to and you know where to find me should you return."

We were both talking in circles repeating the same words over and over until our minds were blurred. "I do not want such things from you! Your friendship was enough to substain me. You are meant to be my friend James my friend now I realized I do not even know you." I tried hard to save our friendship but a certain line seemed to have been crossed and it could not be erased. I wanted to spend time with him but why we bicker so much when we came to meet one another. I approached him again; wrapping my arms contently around him.

He took a deep breath as she came into his arms, he rested his chin upon her head that was against his strong chest and finally let out a breath. He glanced beyond them - to the twinkling candle-lights around them, to the stars which were now appearing - the star in the east, the brightest of them all. He looked to where he knew the castle rested, he could see the pathway almost illuminated - he thought of Mary, no doubt inside and heading to bed, hair long and falling about her face.

Eventually he dropped his arms from her but stayed close, a faint smile appearing upon his lips, "Will you stay...friend?" he asked with a tone of mischief in how he addressed her.

"How is the queen." I asked breezy as I wrapped my arms just a little tighter around him. I felt like we were both invisible to the rest of the world; that no one could interrupt this bonding time. Eventually I let go raising mu gaze to meet his as my arms were free again. I didn't love him neither did I think him as my brother. He was just a very important friend to me. I used to think that we were both two lost souls who had found friendship in one another.

James smiled at the mention of Mary and leaned - arms folded across his chest - once more against the tavern wall, “She is…well - very well...thank you,” he replied brightly, his tone wrapped in a warmth which was Mary’s alone, as his gaze was diverted to the castle again. He had once looked upon that castle as a prison but now it was a fortress for his most precious jewel. He would not tell Isabel about the intricacies of his relationship with Mary - he would not tell anyone, neither confessor nor his closest kin and oldest friend would be told of their moments in private. He and Mary were bound to their roles and when they were behind locked door, they were no longer King and Queen - he would keep that sacrosanct.

After some moments, he looked back to Isabel and grinned. As he brushed away his hair from his forehead, James hoped Isabel may still consider a place in Mary’s household - could that be why she inquired?

“How are your bruises?” he asked, thinking back to the marks upon her smooth and pale skin.

"They feel rather sore but I can still fix your shirts. Can I tell you something. I am worried that people will think I done something bad and that I received them from the law." I was no criminal the only offense I made was my partial liking to a forbidden man. I had always felt drawn to him by some force; I couldn't explain it.

He shook his head, “No one would think that,” he replied sincerely, his voice hushed and almost soothing, carrying it’s warmth through the cold night. She was a woman and while he believed the prejudices of the world to be wrong, they would think Isabel capable of little more than stitching or baking.

“Besides,” he began playfully, “The magistrates would chop off your hand before bruising your wrists,” he replied sarcastically as his dark eyes beheld her, a smirk on his warm lips. He gathered her hand into his and turned over her arm, just as he had done those nights before. The bruises were now a jaundice shade of yellow, bespeckled with flecks of purple and blue. He frowned and ran his thumb carefully across the mark, as if he could merely smear away the bruise.

James had this way; of making people feel like they were the most important people to him. The touch of his fingers against my ruined skin was calming. A tranquility rested inside me; before to long I found myself swaying. I moved my hands from his hold. Running the softly through his hair as they came to rest under his chin. "You are too kind than I ever deserve." His beard was soft like cotton as my fingers cupped his chin in the palm of my hand.

He ducked his head as her hand travelled to his head, almost like the blessings he would receive each evening as a child from his mother. Unlike those times, he did not feel as if he was being constrained and pushed down - reminded of the helplessness of his situation. No, Isabel's touch was entirely different. He shut his eyes for a moment and then opened his eyes with a wink.

"Mary is going to write to you," he replied, moving his head so that he nudged his nose against her hand, "She has designs on you looking after her when-"

He stopped himself - nothing had been announced yet, no...no it was much too soon to say. It would be strange to behold Isabel and Mary together - would it be wise? His relationship with the two of them was very different but equal in familiarity and affections.

Panicked flashed in my eye's replacing their natural sparkle. Why would see wish to write to me for? A slight betrayal triggered inside of me; how could he tell his own wife of a stupid fancy; that was now fading; crush I had on her husband. I wondered if they both found it highly amusing. "When what." I laughed sheepishly trying to catch his eyes to look at me directly.

He laughed at her startled reaction, it was only natural he supposed. Yet, Mary knew very little of Isabel - other than her name; her natural grace meant she asked nothing more of James and her kindness evoked a possibility of patronage upon Isabel.

Be that as it may, their relationship was not a traditional one and there was part of it that always seemed forbidden and mischievous to James. He would keep Isabel's confidence, no less would he do for a true friend. He had a ready ear and would listen well but he often kept quiet instead of speaking. He would guard his thoughts and did not divulge them as salacious gossip. Equally, he would keep he and Mary's happy news to himself - it would be owned by the world soon enough, "When...," he said smoothly - as if it had been his thought all along, "When she takes on her duties as Queen. She will need a friend and confidant - that is all. You needn't look so startled."

James had no idea the strong hold he had on me and I would never let him know it. To give a man that kind of ammunition would be a very bad idea. In short if he wanted me to marry than I would marry. And if he wanted to end our friendship; with a heavy heart I would reluctantly break away. I moved my fingers to the end of his hairs. He had the most sweetest curls hidden away they wrapped so easily around my finger. "I've never had a letter from a queen before. I shall look forward to receiving it am I making you uncomfortable."

Perhaps he could not convince her…but it seemed like Mary could. He was not surprised, there was a mystery in Mary’s glassy eyes - he was quite convinced that no one was immune to her magic. James earnestly hoped that she would accept the offer. Isabel would be comfortable for life; she would have safety, stability and when the time came for marriage she would have her good reputation and handsome dowry from the crown.

“I fear,” he mumbled, “That you could never make me uncomfortable."

"If you could see into my mind then yes you would be very uncomfortable." I moved from him leaving my finger tangled in his hair just a little longer. "I still have your shirt; I'll throw it down for you then I can fix that one." I did move away letting my hand ran down his arm before I headed of back inside.

“I believe there is very little in your mind which would surprise me,” he called after her with a grin - but her words lingered. Like her hand had done upon his strong arm, grazing against the linen and nearly touching his tanned skin.

He walked a few paces behind her, “I did not come to the tavern for an emergency seamstress,” he added playfully, leaning upon the oak door frame which was a couple of inches below his head, "Will you not still need it for my measurements?"

As he peered into the tavern he noticed that it was a little quieter than usual. A few parties were gathered in corners, the maids working quietly in the background and the fire burning bright. He could have been looking into someone’s home instead of a tavern.

I turned back on my heel my hand pressed firmly against his chest. I could easily kiss him one that I could cherish for long time. No that would not shock him in the slightest. My hand moved inside the ripped part of his shirt. It was greeted my the sweet warmth of his hairy chest; my eyes danced delightedly at taking such a liberty. "Is that a challenge as I could have you on your knees within seconds." I wasn't me when I was around him I couldn't think straight and I just wanted to absorb every part of his body.

He sighed as she slid her hand into his shirt, touching his bare flesh - her hand cold against his strong chest. He dipped his head and looked to the ground beneath them as he held her hand. Eventually, after a few moments he brought it away from him and gently let it go. Had he been a few years younger, she could have brought him to his knees - indeed, he could not deny the brief second that he was tempted. Yet, he was older now and she was not the first woman to touch him.

“Don’t, Isabel,” he breathed - his voice hoarse and deep as he spoke. His tone wasn’t harsh but he was firm. James took a step back and only then did he realise how close they had been, for he was still near to her.

"Then do not challenge me so if you do not like what my mind thinks of." My hand was still left in the air as he moved himself away from me. A slight trembling occurred in my voice that ran down my spine; to my knees that no longer held me up. A shaky voice speaking brokenly to him.

For the first time, he questioned whether Isabel entering Mary’s household was wise. He had inadvertently led her to that moment, to her careless touch - to her whispered words. What good would it do - pushing her to Mary’s side? Temptation would amble near him if she lived in the castle. He could just imagine the hem of skirt skirts brushing against him in the palace halls, her eyes on him when he visited Mary. Tonight he would eventually leave her and return to Mary but there would be no such solace should she be only down the corridor. She was his match in many ways, as such - he neither trust her...nor himself.

“I do like what it thinks of,” he protested with a diplomatic smile, “Just not…that. I am neither drunk, nor miserable with my wife. I am happy and I...I will not."

He spoke tentatively - his voice quiet and warm, as if he were taming a wild animal. There was a mystery about Isabel - that had it's hooks well withing James but he was under Mary's spell and her charms were strong...even if he wanted to in that moment, he was already sworn to his wife. He was mad for her, he entirely believed that he would have neither skill nor luck in anything had he not Mary by his side.

"Then why are we friends it is torture. I would naturally miss you but is it worth us being friends if I suffer because of it." I raised my arms up and down with an exasperated sigh. I would miss him and their would be no reason for me to hang around here anymore.

“No,” he said simply with a shrug for it was the truth. Plainly, he would sacrifice his own feelings - for such was his character - if their relationship was too difficult to bear. For James, perhaps the dancing close to danger and temptation was part of the attraction. He danced with death in battle, he came close to the cliff edge and had always managed to gain victory - it filled him with a complete thrill - a rush. To put everything on the line. Things with Isabel were almost similar, “I would never want to inflict suffering on you…but you know how I am bound Isabel."

He grinned a little playfully and added, "Besides I am told on good authority that only the very best men are in my court. Perhaps I shall fall very low in your esteem when you visit the castle."

I clasped my hands; a laugh that sounded very painful filled my lungs not quiet leaving my mouth. "You had better go you're wife shall be needing you." But not as much as I need you; not as much as I. My mind and lips couldn't form any type of words to say to him. Instead; I just sat down on the steps holding my arms tightly against myself as I let my head fall.

He sighed and moved to were she sat. He lowered himself to the ground and perched in front of her. He tried to catch her gaze, the lustre of her bright eyes but her head was tipped to face the dirt and he almost feared that she would weep. She had her arms wrapped so tightly around herself that he noticed how small she really was. How could amend things? How could he display his affections and keep her at the distance he needed.

"I'm sorry, Isabel," he mumbled quietly and earnestly. He rested his hands on her knobbly knees, touching the fabric that skimmed over her legs, "I care for you, Isabel - very much and had...had things been different then you may not have been thus disappointed," he said with a faint smile.

I pushed his hands away his touch burnt through my flesh and straight to my heart. Round and round this went on; back and fourth between us like a dull flame. "You can't fix this situation it is my problem not yours." Came my muffled response as I looked up at him through blurry eye's. I did not even know why I was sitting hear crying. Crying over what a man! What had James done; he had done what no other person had never done before. Crawled deep under my skin refusing to leave.