Page 19 of The Knucker King

Avice’s expression lit up. “Bramble is at home. He will fetch me if anyone comes calling for my services. They should not, as I have already completed my rounds this morning. If I am honest, I insisted he stay home. When I mentioned I was visiting you today, he started shaking like a leaf. He did not exactly enjoy his last visit here,” she explained quickly. “But I would love to stay, Lord.”

Trewoofe rumbled a chuckle. “I apologise for the way I handled him the last time.” He gestured his head over to the surrounding garden. “Once we have finished, I will fill those waterbags for you, as well.”

They settled onto the flowery moss, the soft green a canvas, and the rainbow of flowers a vibrant spectrum from a painter’s brush. Trewoofe curled his body around Avice, who sat just behind his elbow, close but not touching his scales. His tail whipped back and forth at her proximity, and he fought to keep down his crest.

Friends, Trewoofe, friends! he chided himself. “Before we eat and drink. I have a gift for you. I made it myself.”

Avice blinked in surprise. “A gift? For me?”

The Knucker opened his paw, and she shifted to her knees, leaning on his foreleg as she peered down into his grasp.

His heart hammered. She touched me. By herself. Of her own accord. He fumbled his tongue for a moment before he found it again. “It is carved from a crystal from the Underneath. If you touch it, call for me, I will hear it and come to you.”

Avice removed her gloves and stuffed them in the basket. Her bare fingers reached and brushed against him. His tail lashed again like a dog wagging his tail. She gently took the crystal pendant and held it up to her face to study it.

She dropped it from her gaze and looked up at Trewoofe. “You made this for me?” she asked, her eyes welling up with tears.

“Yes. Little witch, why are you crying? If you do not like it, I will not take offense.”

He would take offense, but seeing her cry made his chest ache.

“I am crying because no one has ever given me a gift before. You made it as well!” she cried, pressing the chiming, purple crystal to her heart.

“So, you do like it?” The Knucker had to know.

“I love it.”

She beamed up at him as she looped the pendant around her neck, pulling her hair free from the string. Trewoofe was mesmerised as her hair glinted and rippled in the Sun, looking like a river under the Moon. Emboldened by her gentle touches and reaction to his gift, Trewoofe had to ask.

“What happened to your head?”

The midwife brushed away the happy tears that had tracked down her cheeks, before gently touching her fingertips to the bump. She winced, the edges of her lips tugging downwards.

“A Pillywiggin from my garden threw a cup at my head,” she sighed, dropping her hand from her temple and resting it on the crystal pendant.

Trewoofe growled in his throat, lips peeling back and exposing his long, sharp fangs. “Want me to eat it?”

“Lord!” Avice’s mouth dropped open. “Bramble took care of it.”

“Excellent. He is a good familiar, and I am glad he is looking after you.” Trewoofe lowered his snout to her injured temple, close, but not touching. “May I lick you? I will heal the wound quickly, as it is a minor one.”

Avice’s face flushed with a rosy glow, her cheeks turning a charming red. “…Yes, please.”

Trewoofe’s crest flicked up, and he quickly folded it down by sheer willpower.

The midwife squinted up at him. “What was that?”

The Knucker dug his claws into the moss and cleared his throat. “Nothing to worry about. Shall I proceed?”

Avice nodded, closed her eyes, and offered her temple to him. Trewoofe flicked his tongue experimentally, tasting the air that was saturated with her sweet scent. He extended it and lightly caressed the bow of her cheek, before trailing it up to the bump on her temple. It felt firm. The forks softly explored, and saliva gently pooled onto her skin. The taste of her flooded his senses. The Knucker was grateful he had already pleasured himself to her image, otherwise, he was afraid his length would burst out then and there.

Trewoofe watched as her eyes fluttered open, her gaze soft as she looked up his snout. He rumbled, his heart pounding at her flushed expression. He was sure he saw it pass over her pretty face: desire. He allowed his tongue to linger a moment more, imagining where else he could explore on her body with it. As he retracted it, Trewoofe ran it over the roof of his mouth, over his fangs, saturating the taste of her over his senses.

“Thank you, Lord.” She beamed up at him.

The Knucker loved the way the fine lines at the corners of her eyes creased as she smiled. He pictured her smiling down at new younglings, offsprings with scraped knees, and elderly patients who needed her witching to comfort them.

“You are most welcome.” He paused before speaking again. “Avice?”