It was wrong, this they both knew, feeling attraction to another of the same sex. The Church looked down upon it, sinning against nature, even forbid it; laws had been established and punishments placed. Though there were some who did it underground, who met together late in the night and quietly made their way to the outskirts of the village to be together. And there were some whose love was too much to bear and attempted to form a relationship. For example, Rosa. She was a sharp tongued poet that once resided in a bookstore next to Carmen's, but milkmaids and barbers alike whispered rumours claiming her of practicing witchcraft and dark magic. Her lover was a bubbly, dirty blonde blacksmith, with eyes blue as clear afternoon skies. Their relationship became visible to the public eye and they fled out days after, fearing the punishments that could have taken place. Chiara was a good Catholic, walked to Church every day and prayed to God, doing her best to be kind to her neighbours. Even the slightest indication that she felt attraction towards a woman would easily result in accusations of being unfaithful.
Untying the kerchief from underneath her chin and tucking it into her leather corset, Chiara let her hair fall forward into her face. The only natural light in the room came from a dirty, cracked window. During the summer, her room was so stuffy to the point where Chiara felt as though the air was choking her, so the window was always cracked open an inch. Chiara flung herself onto her straw mattress laying on the floor and stared at the ceiling, wondering what she was to do next. Her stomach wasn't growling yet nor was she, surprisingly, tired enough to take a nap. A mouse with a big bread crumb clenched between it's teeth scurried past her feet and into a hole shaped in the walls.
Why had she ever left the life of royalty? She must have been drunk on five goblets of wine, or something, because this sucked. But there was a legitimate reason, she knew that, and quite a simple one. It was because she felt like an outlier. It felt wrong to be surrounded by so many guards and have her chest decorated in shimmering jewels and expensive pearls, confined to the cold stone building and only have her sister and maids to keep company- not that there were many willing to. Chiara had a bad attitude, playing her part as a spoiled princess who threw cringe worthy tantrums and gave a hell of a glare, but she tried to leave as much of it as she did her silk dresses and jewelry behind when she turned to a peasant life. A marriage was arranged to happen two years ago, as well, and only when Hell froze over would Chiara do such a thing. She wasn't even fit to watch over her sister, let alone a foreign kingdom.
xxx
While Chiara sulked in her room, Carmen was making her way to Julchen's tavern. Like it was unusual for Rosa's partner to have been a blacksmith, it was unusual for one to be a brewer, as well as a taverner. Julchen was a bit more masculine then most, even more so then the Hungarian who operated a small book store right next to the floral shop. Not to mention her grandfather had run one and it was well known that Julchen took the most after him.
Carmen waved to a man carrying a dripping bucket of water in his hands and received a polite smile from him. Turning at the corner of the dirt path, she entered Gobblesbikk Way, or as Chiara liked to call it the lair of drunks. Julchen was sat on a pile of bags of flour like she was a queen. With blonde hair so light it could be considered white and pale skin, it was impossible to miss the brewer.. She was like a walking sun. "Good evening, Julchen!" Carmen waved and called in her direction. Julchen looked up from the beer bottle she was taking a swig out of, swallowing the alcohol quickly, and grinning when she caught sight of her tan friend. "Evening." She nodded and set the jug down on the ground in front of her. Scooting over to make room, Julchen gestured to the empty spot next to her, inviting Carmen to sit next to her. "How is the tavern doing?" The brunette asked once making herself as comfortable as sitting on a pile of bags filled with flour would allow. "Eh," Her companion shrugged and glanced her brown eyes in another direction for a dramatic effect-quite the showstopper, wasn't she? Julchen's eyes weren't just a plain, chocolate brown. In most light they gave off what one could describe as a maroon colour, or put it bluntly as 'red'. "Busy, as usual. We've gained a few regulars, actually. Some men whose wives have probably abandoned them for the smelting heartthrob," Pointing behind her was a sweating man farther down the street, surrounded by swooning women who cooed over his muscles. The muscles belonged to the newest blacksmith, Ralph, a charming young man with thick eyebrows who was quick to attract attention from maidens. Pretty ones, at that. Carmen could only hope that Chiara wasn't in the crowd, because she was so fair and lovely; Ralph would surely sweep her off her feet, bitterly she thought, which then caused Carmen's cheeks to warm. Had she really thought that? How possessive of her, though she wouldn't deny the embarrassing fact she held a small romantic liking to the girl. Chiara's slender, olive legs (which had been accidentally seen when she cut her leg whilst Carmen was visiting) and soft looking lips had made the tan woman realise exactly how she liked her neighbour.
"Carmen?" Julchen waved her hand in front of a zoned out Carmen. "For the Lord's sake, tell me you aren't going to become a mindless milkmaid who coos over sweaty muscles. That would give the amazing me a bad image, you know." She warned which pulled Carmen out of her thoughts. "Ah?" Carmen tilted her head in confusion, "Oh, lo siento. What were you saying?" To that, Julchen snorted and shook her head. Glancing around her, she lowered her voice. "Thinking about your sweet, darling baker?" She cackled while the Spaniard felt her her cheeks grow hotter then they had been a few minutes ago. "Knew it!" Julchen leaned back in the pile and closed her eyes, "She's hot. Like, really hot, Carms. And can bake too. But she's a bitch," She commented. Chiara didn't leave all of her attitude when she left her princess position. She still had to have character somehow. Shyly, Carmen nodded in agreement. "I guess she can have a bit... stubborn," she blew a tired sigh out and Julchen hummed. There was definitely no argument against the fact she could be difficult; today it had surprised Carmen the most that Chiara took the rose without giving a small lecture. Some light scolding, yes, but nothing too bad. Normally, she would turn her head to the side and tch before telling Carmen to at least give her the cheaper flowers and go on about how she should be more careful with how she save the nice flora for those with good money.
After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Carmen yawned and stretched her arms in front of her, standing up. "Well, I'm off. I have a stew to make! I'll bring you some tomorrow, yes?" She smiled down at Julchen who gave a thumbs up in approval. The sun was starting to set and Carmen looked in disbelief. How long had it been since she left the shop? Confused, she continued her way back with her basket still in hand and glanced at the church clock in alarm. Prayer was about to begin. Pushing her way through the crowds and sending loud apologies behind her back, Carmen swung into the shop and dropped the basket, hurrying up the stairs. Suddenly, her foot caught the front of her skirt and she tripped, hitting her chin on the wooden stairs first and body following later, all with a thud!
Quite a sudden ending, eh? I wasn't sure of what to write. Apologies if it seems a bit sloppy, though...
Anyways, I've decided on making this a medieval/modern sort of story. I'd like to include some "slang" if you will, especially on Julchen and Chiara's part, but I didn't think it would fit so well. So, just consider it some weird hybrid in another universe.
Julchen is F. Prussia, if you didn't know already, and Ralph is Australia.
