The din of steel clashing against steel filled the vast training field behind the barracks. Scores of young soldiers were sparring with each other, training for the day when they would be called upon by the Elf King to protect the Kingdom from enemy attack. The two strongest warriors in the land always sparred with each other. Normally Sir Stanley was the one to come out on top during these practice matches, but today he found himself on his knees with a hammer stopped mere inches away from his head each and every round. The young paladin knew something was off.
"Sir Stanley, what is with you today?" asked a confused Butters.
"What do you mean? I feel fine." Stan stood up and dusted off his clothes.
"You always best me nine times out of ten when we fight, but I've kicked your behind seven times already today. What gives?"
"You must've become stronger than me since we last dueled." Stan rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glancing to the left.
"Golly, do I wish that were true, but we dueled last week and that's not nearly enough time to have surpassed you. I can tell that you have something on your mind. Would you like to talk about it over some ale?"
"There's really nothing to discuss, Butters…but some ale would really hit the spot right now."
Stan twiddled his thumbs while he waited for Butters to return with the two flagons of ale. It was true, he really did have a lot on his mind. He simply did not wish to state the thoughts that had been clouding his judgement aloud, even to a trusted friend. Even if that friend was a paladin who was known for his honesty and courage, and who would never criticize his friend for what had been distracting him from his training.
"Here we are! Two brown ales!" Butters proclaimed when he finally arrived back at the tavern table. His energy and enthusiasm were hard to resist.
Stan reached for the flagon that Butters offered him and inhaled the brew's delicious aroma. He brought his lips up to the rim and took a long, deep drink.
"Okay Stan, it's time to tell me what has you so preoccupied that you can't dodge my attacks. I'm not going to even get started at how sloppy your stances were."
"How many times do I need to tell you, Butters? I'm fine! I'm totally not distracted by the constant pervasive thought of Craig's face!"
Stan's eyes widened, his hand clamping over his mouth. Butters leaned back in his chair and smiled. Stan slowly dropped his hand from his mouth and nervously laughed, trying to hide his utter embarrassment.
"Uh, what I meant to say was that I'm just tired. That's why I've been so sluggish today. I didn't get much sleep last night because every time I closed my eyes, I saw Craig's ass."
Butters giggled at the sight of his friend burying his beet red face in his hands.
"It's not even that great of an ass," Stan mumbled into his palms. "What is happening right now?" he exclaimed, dropping his hands to the table. He picked up his drink and took another sip, pausing mid-sip and slowly placed it back down. "What the fuck did you put in my drink, you fiend?"
"I'm sorry, Stan." He held up an empty bottle of light blue liquid.
"Elixir of Veracity? Jesus Christ, Butters, a paladin wouldn't use that! That's not good and righteous and shit! Stop going out of character!"
"Well gee Stan, if you weren't being such a gosh darn wiener about talking with me and being honest with your friend, I wouldn't have used it! And I'm not the one who started going out of character in the first place! You are!"
The two of them bristled at each other for a moment, soon relaxing and returning to their in-character conversation.
"So then…it would seem that you are quite smitten with the infamous thief known as Craig," Butters continued.
"That appears to be so," Stan sighed. "We've been at odds many times before, but the other day…something happened to me, and I don't think he had used a charm potion." Against his better judgement, he had another gulp of the tainted ale.
"The other day? Oh! Do you mean when you had him tied to a chair and at your mercy?"
"Ngh…yes. And do you have to use such…titillating language?" Thoughts of Craig bound up in front of him…and begging for mercy…crept into his mind. Stan shifted in his seat.
"I'm just stating the facts, Sir Stanley," Butters grinned. "It is you, the smitten one, who has applied inappropriate thoughts to these innocent facts."
Stan sighed, knowing there was no point in denying it anymore. "It's just…I don't even know how to explain it. I hate him. He always manages to escape whenever I've caught him and I'm this close to finally defeating him, but…I feel a rush of excitement whenever we're at odds. I love how he can always outsmart me, cause he and I both know that he'd lose in a battle of strength. It makes me want to become better at strategizing, better at seeing all the different possibilities in a situation. When he was bound to that chair and not backing down, even after I punched him in the jaw…fuck, it was one of the hottest things I've ever witnessed, Butters. And I can't stop thinking about that. His knowing eyes and that roguish grin, tarnished with his blood. I don't know if it's the elixir making me say this or not, but…if the dungeon keeper hadn't interrupted us…I think I would have discovered what his blood tasted like on my tongue."
Butters' eyebrows were raised. He hadn't expected to get so much out of Stan. "You know what I think, Sir Stanley? If it were me, I'd tell him all of that the next time I came face to face with him. It's good to be open with your feelings. You never know what could happen. He could feel the same way."
"Of course you'd say that, mister righteous-unless-I-need-my-friend-to-open-up-to-me paladin." He rolled his eyes at Butters. "But I'm not going to do that. I don't need to give him another thing that he can use against me. He's a rogue, a thief, a scoundrel…he'll just laugh at my pathetic feelings and probably steal my sword in the process. And I'd probably let him because he's fucking beautiful." Stan planted his forehead firmly into the palm of his hand.
"Damn Stan," Butters began after finishing his own ale. "You have it bad."
"I really do," he sighed.