Warning: Rated [MA] Mature Adults only. Contains strong m/m sexual scenes, violence, coarse language and adult themes.
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Rating: MA??
Warning: Major Mush Alert. This one follows on from Sale but has serious bits as well as funny bits.
Sharpe's Tiger Skin
By Minerva
Spain 1812
Richard Sharpe stretched like a cat and sighed deeply.
"Ah right there Harper, that's the spot!"
He was up to his waist in water, revelling in the feeling as Patrick Harper washed his back.
Harper had been at him about his trousers again exclaiming that it was unhealthy to wear them all the time. Sharpe had sighed and finally agreed to take them off and have a wash but only on the condition that Sergeant Harper scrubbed his back for him. Harper had seemed only too happy to comply and was diligently applying himself to his task as he knelt on the bank behind Sharpe.
The said trousers were laying further up the bank with the rest of Sharpe's uniform. Sharpe had been careful to keep them well away from the water. He didn't want to take the risk that Sergeant Harper might accidentally try to wash them also. Sharpe shook his head slightly, and pondered his Sergeant's fixation with his trousers. It just wasn't natural!
"So when were you going to tell me Sir?" ask Harper breaking Sharpe's musings.
"About what Harper,... ah yes, just a little lower now"
"About you and Mr Lawford, Sir." said Harper directly "The whole camp is talking about it. Sorry Sir was that a bit too low?"
Sharpe jumped. This was a conversation he was not looking forward to. When he had heard that his new Colonel was to be William Lawford, Sharpe had felt a warm glow settle in his heart. It was only later that he began to worry about the inevitable camp gossip.
Their time spent together in India had been long ago but Sharpe knew there would still be some who had not forgotten the friendship that he and Lawford had formed and it was inevitable that stories would start circulating through the camp.
Sharpe hesitated. Some things were just not easy to talk about. But if he owed anyone an explanation then that person was Patrick Harper.
"What do you want to know Harper?" he asked, embarrassment creeping into his voice.
"Well Sir I know you and Mr Lawford spent a lot of time in a prison cell together and afterwards became quite close." Harper paused " I know what he did for you Sir, but I just don't see how he did it." Harper asked in his usual calm voice.
Sharpe coughed and felt himself blush. Let a man wash your back and he thought he could ask you anything! Sharpe thought in disgust. Thank god he had his back to Harper.
"What did he use? And just how long did it take," continued Harper "I've heard it was all rather quick."
Sharpe groaned and decided it was probably better to get the whole thing out in the open.
India 1799.
Richard Sharpe had watched in admiration as the masked horseman road up to the Tippoo's funeral procession and snatched up the tiger skin before riding off again. But his admiration turned quickly to anger.
"Bloody Cavalry Officers" he muttered under his breath. If anyone deserved that tiger skin it was Richard Sharpe. He'd shot the bloody thing.
The Tippoo's followers were incensed and had made a formal complaint but the tiger skin had not been recovered, and Sharpe had tried to put the incident from his mind.
But now as he waited for Lieutenant Lawford, Sharpe wondered again just who's tent that tiger skin was now gracing!
"Ah there you are Richard, sorry I'm a bit late. Needed a word with my uncle." William Lawford smiled at Sharpe and held up two bottles of fine quality rum. "I thought we might use these." he said shyly.
Sharpe smiled back. He was pleased that Lieutenant Lawford had suggested they meet that evening. One more night of freedom sounded just fine to Richard Sharpe. Besides he had to admit that he had come to enjoy the Lieutenant's company too.
"The girls will love that Sir" said Sharpe "Lets get a move on before the place gets too busy" The city was full of soldiers now, their pockets full of looted riches and the brothels would be busy.
"Do you mind if we don't go to the brothel Richard?" Lawford said hesitatingly "I've something else in mind for this evening."
Sharpe knew that Lawford had a certain reluctance when it came to brothels, but he had hoped the Lieutenant was over that now.
"Whatever yer like Sir" Sharpe replied, slightly disappointed.
It would be interesting to see what constituted a good time in Lawford's opinion, Sharpe thought, probably elephant riding or some such nonsense. Well at least he'd have the rum to keep him warm.
They headed out of the city and passed the camp boundaries. Sharpe hesitated then not wanting to get into further trouble and risk another flogging. But Lawford merely said not to worry as his uncle, General McCandless, had given his approval for this evening as a personal thank you to Sharpe.
They eventually arrived in a quiet secluded spot by a small lake.
Fishing, thought Sharpe, or maybe swimming. He shuddered at the thought, he hated swimming.
Lawford bent down and pulled a large bulky shape out from under a bush. With a wave of his arms he unfurled the Tiger skin, spread it on the ground, and stood back proudly to guage Sharpe's reaction.
"Bloody Hell Sir, was that you on the horse?" Sharpe was impressed. His Lieutenant had surprised him again.
When he had first met Lawford, Sharpe had summed him up as just another privileged fool who had bought his way into the army. Decorative but of little use in an actual battle. However after a short time he had come to realise that he had sorely underestimated Lawford's quick thinking and quiet courage and now held a grudging admiration for his Lieutenant.
"Yes that was me. I thought that tiger skin should belong to you Richard, so here it is. It's yours." Lawford sat down on the skin and began pulling off his boots. Sharpe laughed took off his jacket and stock and joined him.
"I think yer'd better keep it Sir." said Sharpe still amazed at Lawford's audacity. "If I showed up in camp with that, I'd probably be flogged again. No, it's safer with you."
So they sat on the tiger skin and drank and talked as the moon rose and the stars slowly turned.
First they spoke of battles and rifles and swords. Later their talk turned to books and Sharpe's remarkable progress with learning to read. Finally as the rum warmed them and loosened their tongues they spoke of friends made and lost, of hope and fears and lastly of their time in the Tippoo's cell.
"I was so afraid I'd die in that cell Richard." said Lawford softly, "Sometimes at night I'd lay awake and cry."
Sharpe had heard Lawford's muffled sobs several times but had never mentioned it. If a man wanted to cry well he was entitled to some privacy.
"It's all right Sir, I was scared in there too. It's not like dying while fighting, that's something yer come to expect." said Sharpe soothingly.
"You're not afraid of anything Richard, you're the bravest man I know. My uncle and I would both be dead now if it wasn't for you."
"Yer wrong there Sir, I didn't do much, and I get just as scared as the next man."
"But when you were flogged you never made a sound." Lawford replied.
"Doesn't mean I wasn't scared. I was just too bloody proud to show it." explained Sharpe not wanting to make a fuss about it.
Lawford leaned over and placed his fingers lightly on Sharpe's back.
"I'm sorry you were flogged Richard, I would have stopped it if I could have, you know. How is your back now?"
Sharpe felt Lawford's fingers stroke lightly across his back through the thin shirt. His back was still tender, the new skin sensitive but the light touch felt pleasant.
"It's much better now Sir, but I've been told it looks a bloody goddamned mess of scars." Sharpe said lightly
"Women like scars don't they Richard." said Lawford adopting the same bravados "You'll have even more chasing you now. All the women love you. I've seen how they watch you."
"Women don't love me Sir." Sharpe said wondering how Lawford seemed to now so much about him. "They're only after a bit of extra money or protection. It's just give'n'take."
"Do you know what's being said about us in camp Richard?" said Lawford more seriously.
Sharpe had heard the talk and none of it had been complimentary.
"Take no notice of it Sir, there's always gossip in the ranks." said Sharpe thinking it better to just brush it aside.
"Not just in the ranks. They say the same thing in the Officer's mess, but I think they have our roles reversed." Lawford said with a little strangled laugh.
Sharpe sat quietly knowing how badly his Lieutenant must be feeling. He knew Lawford's sensitivities and how something like this would upset him, embarrass him.
"I'm really sorry Sir, talk like that must be hard to take with yer uncle in camp and all." said Sharpe
"It seems such a shame Richard, to be accused of something when you are innocent, don't you think." Lawford continued.
Sharpe still felt strangely protective towards Lawford even now after they were safe again. He wanted to spare him any further discomfit.
"It would be best if yer just ignored me from now on Sir. That'll stop the talk."
"No!" said Lawford sharply "that's not what I want. That's not what I meant." Lawford stammered, clearly upset. "I just wanted you to know that if you wanted to, well er..that is ..I wouldn't mind if ..oh..." and with that William Lawford leaned over and lightly kissed Richard Sharpe on the lips.
Sharpe pulled back quickly, more stunned than if a rifle had just discharged in his face.
"Sorry Richard, did I do the wrong thing?" said Lawford quietly.
"No, I'm sorry Sir, it's just that I've never been kissed by a man before that's all. I've kissed lots of women, but the men I been with were more interested in something else." Sharpe said, feeling his face go hot.
"Well that makes us even I guess because I've never made love with a man before." admitted Lawford, his face flushed pink.
So that's where this is going thought Sharpe a little uneasily and glanced at the rum bottle to see how much they had drunk. The bottle was still fairly full, they had been doing more talking than drinking. Not enough missing to account for Lawford's unexpected behavior. Bloody Hell!
Sharpe hesitated. There was too much at stake here to rush in blindly. He valued his friendship with Lieutenant Lawford and wouldn't risk it for idle curiosity. Was that it, Sharpe thought, feeling a little hurt, was Lawford just curious or doing this out of some misplaced sense of gratitude.
"So why now Sir, why me" asked Sharpe quietly.
Lawford looked at Sharpe, his uncertainty clearly showing in his eyes. "I like you Richard, I thought we were friends, good friends. Isn't this what friends do. Isn't this what you and Tom Garrard do."
Sharpe's thoughts were teeming. Did Lawford really know what he was getting into? He'd would probably run screaming back to camp before they even got started, Sharpe decided. But then again the Lieutenant hadn't said he'd never kissed a man before so he obviously had some experience. One part of Sharpe's mind began wondering if it was a flogging offence to bugger an Officer while another was telling him that he didn't really care. Best proceed with caution here, he finally told himself.
"Yer right Sir, Tom and I are friends, real close, and we've done a lot of things together. But are yer sure yer know what yer asking."
Lawford looked at Sharpe and nodded, his eyes all wide and soft and trusting. Sharpe had seen that look in women's eyes before and it had always been his undoing. He felt his resolve slipping away.
"Yer said yer uncle gave 'is permission for this." said Sharpe with a smile trying to ease the tension that had suddenly sprung up between them.
"I told my Uncle we were going to hunt tigers." said Lawford and they both started laughing.
"Does that mean I'll have to growl and bite you?" asked Sharpe with a grin and Lawford blushed an even deeper shade of red.
"Only if you want to Richard and we don't have to kiss if you'd rather not." Lawford said softly.
"It's all right Sir, I kinda liked it. I'll tell yer what, yer can teach me the kissing part and I'll show yer the other."
Later they lay on their backs on the tiger skin together letting their breathing steady, their sweat dry and their blood cool. As he lay there watching the stars Sharpe thought about what had happened. He knew that he and William Lawford had shared something special here tonight...made love ..was the way Lawford had said it. Sharpe liked the sound of that, much better than any of the cruder terms he usually heard or used. It made it sound like something that went further than simply using each other's bodies.
Yes, it had been more than that. William Lawford had opened his soul and allowed Richard Sharpe to look inside and Sharpe had tried to do the same. No-one had ever shared that with him before.
Lawford stirred and Sharpe felt a gentle weight settle on his shoulder, warm breath against his skin and soft lips caress his throat.
Then he heard it.
Something he had wished for in his childhood.
Something he had imagined in his dreams.
William Lawford whispered "I love you."
Spain 1812
"And that's how it happened Harper, but remember we were much younger then and very, very drunk at the time." Sharpe took a deep breath and waited for his Sergeant to reply.
He'd made light of the story, as men often do when speaking of things close to their hearts. He'd been thorough in his telling, not leaving out any of the details he thought Harper would want to know. Well not many, there were somethings a man had a right to keep to himself, and that last little confession between William Lawford and himself was meant for them alone.
Harper had long stopped washing Sharpe's back and was sitting silently on the bank, his bare feet dangling in the water.
"Is that all yer wanted to know, Harper?"
"Well not exactly Sir" Harper said sounding a little uncomfortable. "But thank you for telling me, it was an interesting tale and very educational, but you see Sir, all I heard was that Mr Lawford had taught you to read and I wondered how he'd done it, there not being any books in prison cells."
Bloody hell, thought Sharpe, better face the bayonets! He turned around to face his Sergeant only to be confronted by an even more immediate problem.
"Bloody hell Harper that goats got m'trousers! Quick catch it before it eats 'em."
And with that Sharpe jumped up naked and ran up the bank in pursuit of the goat. The ever faithful Patrick Harper followed.
Harry Price loved to take long walks on his own. It was something he did to maintain his health and fitness. It gave him time to ponder deep thoughts and it also allowed him to do some quiet drinking without his commanding Officers noticing.
The hills around the camp where fairly quiet and he was rarely disturbed so he was somewhat surprised when a large goat ran past him carrying what appeared to be a pair of trousers. While Harry watched another figure burst from the bushes but this one was trouserless.
Harry stood to attention as Sharpe ran past,dripping wet and stark naked. As he watched the retreating figure he thought what a fine man Captain Sharpe was. Tall, strong, well built with a certain feline grace that was more than evident as he chased after the goat leaping over rocks and other obstacles. Ah yes, a man to admire.
Harry was rudely interrupted from his fantasy by Sergeant Harper running into him.
"Sorry Sir didn't see you there, I was watching Captain Sharpe." said Harper, picking Harry up and dusting him off. " Excuse me but I don't want to loose sight of him. He's after a goat." and with that Harper took off again.
Well one thing was sure, thought Harry Price, Captain Sharpe and Sergeant Harper certainly knew how to have a good time.
"Hold on there Harper, I might be able to help you" shouted Harry, as he broke into a shakey run . "I've had some experience with goats!"
London: Present Day.
Richard Sharpe surveyed the rather old and tattered tiger skin that lay on the floor. True, it had been in rather poor condition when he had pulled it out to show Methos, but the fact that they had spent the last few hours rolling around on it had not helped.
I really should get it cleaned, thought Sharpe. It smelt almost as bad as his trousers! But what exactly would he tell the dry cleaners about all those stains, he wondered? So many marks and stains had been collected over the years and each one held a memory. No, it was best left as it was.
It had been in his possession since William Lawford had bequeathed it to Sharpe upon his death. He and Lawford had drifted apart over the years, army life and the difference in their stations finally taking their toll. So Sharpe was somewhat surprised and secretly pleased when the tiger skin arrived and he realised that Lawford had never forgotten what they once had shared.
Sharpe wondered what Lawford would think if he saw the old tiger skin now? Not that it had been in pristine condition when it arrived, Sharpe smiled, remembering. There had been no doubt what Lawford had been using it for.
He let his thoughts wander over the times they had spent together and felt a sudden sadness welling up in his heart.
Sharpe owed so much to Lawford. He had taught him not to judge a person by their looks, but to wait and see their mettle. He had taught him to read, thereby giving him a chance to one day rise out of the ranks and become an Officer. And he had taught him about love, the sharing of the heart and soul, not just the body.
The tiger skin was not the only memento that Sharpe had from Lawford. There was something else Lawford had given to Sharpe after they had spent the night on the tiger skin. He sighed and went to find the small tin box that he kept beside his bed.
Opening the box Sharpe gazed in at the simple treasures that had made up his life. No jewels or gold or silver, but things of higher value. A small battered cross that Theresa had worn, Lucille's wedding ring and a lock of Patrick Harper's hair.
Sharpe finally pulled out a thin yellowing sheet of paper. It was another page that Lawford had torn from a bible and given to Sharpe long ago. He silently read the lines that were forever stamped in his memory.
Your lips cover me with kisses;
your love is better than wine;
There is a fragrance about you;
the sound of your name recalls it.
No woman could help loving you.
Take me with you, and we'll run away;
be my king and take me to your room.
We will be happy together,
drink deep, and lose ourselves in love.
No wonder all women love you!
Song of Songs [Song of Solomon] 1.1-1.4
The End.