Post by journeycat on Oct 7, 2009 3:40:58 GMT 10
Title: Three Knights in a Tub
Rating (and Warnings): PG-13 (it may need to go up). Beware crack!, accidental sandwiches!, nudity!, and Faleron's vulgar mouth and inability to sing.
Fairytale/Nursery Rhyme adapted: Rub-a-Dub-Dub, Three Men in a Tub. See here .
Word Count: 2,005
Summary: Keladry, Faleron, and Merric find themselves in need of, ahem, discreet assistance.
Notes: Don't worry, I am totally aware of how implausible this is Also, thanks to Roger's Lair for helping me with wrinkle-in-rug vs. fold
-----
“Hey! Is someone there?”
Keladry paused just past the closed door, frowning slightly. “Merric,” she said, “is that you?”
“Of all the luck—”
“We can’t let her come in—”
“Would you rather a servant find us?”
“No, they’ll never stop talking about it.”
“Would you rather another knight find us?”
“Well, not particularly, no.”
The important stack of papers in her hand were all but forgotten as she backed up a couple paces. “Faleron? Are you in there, too?”
There was a splash and a curse. Someone cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re both in here. We’re in need of, ah...assistance. Discreet assistance.”
She glanced down one dimly lit end of the corridor and found it empty. She turned her head. There was no one at that end, either. She laid a hand on the doorknob. “I’m alone,” she said cautiously. “Is everything okay?”
“Well...no. No, not really.”
“Should I come in?”
“No!”
Kel quickly pulled her hand back, alarmed. I hope they’re okay, she thought with a mixture of worry and curiosity. If they were hurt, I think they’d say something. But why are they acting so—so strange? She peered surreptitiously around again and then placed her ear against the door. All she heard were frantic, furious whispers and some gentle splashing. What was splashing in there...?
“Okay,” the voice she pinned as Merric said heavily. “You can come in. But first, you have to swear on every god you believe in that what you see will never leave this room.”
She scratched the back of her head. “I swear it.”
“And,” Faleron added, “you have to remember, it’s not what you think.”
She blinked. “Okay...”
“So mote it be,” Merric said solemnly. “Come in.”
She was suddenly dubious as to whether she actually wanted to go in now. Still, they needed her help. How could she refuse? She turned the knob and pushed.
“Boys,” she said after a moment, “the door’s locked.”
“Oh, for Mithros’ sake,” Merric muttered. “How are we going to work this?”
Someone exhaled loudly.
Kel asked, “You can’t just come over and unlock it?”
“It’s...a bit more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”
She propped her hands on her hips and stared at the door. What was going on in there?
“Okay, Merric—on my count, we’re both going to heave this way. I think we’ll be able to scoot this thing over there. Ready? One, two—”
The most horrible screech resounded from inside the room. Kel took a step back as it came closer. Screeeech. Pause. Screeeech. Pause. “Faleron, do something with that, it’s digging into my thigh.” Screeeech. Pause. Screeeeech. Pause. Screeeech. Pause. The locked clicked.
“Don’t come in yet!” Faleron said anxiously. “Wait until we get back.”
And so it started again. She couldn’t even begin to place the weird scraping sound, like metal against—something. Or something.
Finally, someone called, “You can come in. But you can’t tell! And you can’t laugh, either!”
Kel readied herself with a deep, calming breath, and opened the door.
Whatever she expected, it certainly wasn’t this.
In a frightening jumbled mass of limbs, Faleron and Merric had somehow managed to stuff themselves in a too-small iron tub (ah, the screeching sound!) that was sloshing with water. Faleron was sitting lengthwise with his knees akimbo, while Merric, facing him, had somehow managed to wedge himself in between his cousin’s legs. Somehow, crammed so close together in that tiny tub, they got themselves stuck.
And suddenly she realized that they were naked.
Kel closed her eyes.
“I know what it looks like,” Faleron said quickly, his cheeks pink, “but it’s not like—that. That’s gross, Merric’s my cousin. And a boy.”
“A man, actually.”
“Really? Because from what I can see—”
“Enough,” she blurted, quickly holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it. Please, just...explain. Just explain.”
“Will you close the door first?”
They watched her hastily shut the door—it wasn’t like she wanted anyone walking by and see her with them.
“Thanks. So Faleron and I came back to his room after sparring practice, and he was soaking while I was waiting for him to get out so I could soak. Well, he was about to get out, so I was undressing and walking around the tub, but I tripped and fell in and we couldn’t get out and now we’re packed so tight in here and it’s weird, Kel, it’s weird and you have to get us out!”
He was breathing heavily by the time he was done, and Faleron looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Kel, just come over here and pull us out, please.”
She braced herself and started toward them. I’ll just grab one by the arm and yank, she decided. I can probably pry one loose from this—position—enough for them to wiggle free— “Ho!”
Her foot caught on an unseen fold in the rug and pitched her forward. Her momentum was too strong, and she couldn’t stop herself as she spun around and hit the tub with a jarring shock to the back of the knees. She grunted, and tumbled into the little iron tub with a splash and yelps from its two current occupants.
“Ow, Kel, what did you do—”
“Get out and help us—”
“I—I can’t!”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I can’t get out! I’m stuck!”
They stared at her in horror as she braced her elbows on the rim and tried to heave herself out. She couldn’t. Her rear was wedged too firmly—between their legs. She swallowed, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths. When she thought she was under control, she surveyed her situation with an objective and only slightly twitching eye.
Merric and Faleron were both sitting lengthwise, each with one knee awkwardly drawn up against his chest and another digging into her respective thigh. She was sitting on one hand. Her legs were draped over the edge of the tub, so at least she wasn’t crammed in there with them—but it also meant she couldn’t get a proper grip with her feet.
Yes, it was just too tight a fit. There was no room to maneuver.
“This is not happening,” she whispered, fighting down a blush and losing.
“At least you’re not naked,” Merric said unhelpfully. His face was as colorful as his hair.
“Someone will come along soon,” she said fiercely. “They’ll help us.”
“That’s we thought,” Faleron said darkly. “We’ve been sitting here for two hours. Haven’t you noticed that this water is cold?”
“I have,” his cousin muttered, glancing down.
Kel passed her free hand over her face, struggling to regain some composure. I’m stuck in a tub, she thought faintly, with my two naked male friends. How can it possibly get any worse?
Long, slow minutes passed. No one said anything and the silence dragged on. She stared dejectedly at her knees.
“Did I ever tell you I learned how to make candles?” Faleron finally said.
They looked at him.
“Hey, we’re stuck together,” he told them. “I figure we might as well have a normal conversation.”
“You’re naked,” Kel said, bewildered. “What kind of normal conversation could we possibly have?”
There was another moment of quiet.
“I used to help the butcher back in the Yamani Islands,” she offered. “He’d let me cut off chickens’ heads.”
“No wonder you’re so barbaric,” Merric snorted. “I have one. You can’t make fun of me for it—”
“Really, Merric?” Kel sighed. “You’re naked, Faleron’s naked, and I’m in a very compromising position right now. We’re not making fun of anyone.”
“Good,” he said. “Well, then. I cook.”
“You...cook?”
“I bake, really. Pastries, cakes, sweetrolls...”
Faleron and Kel carefully avoided looking at each other.
“So we’ve got a butcher, a baker, and a candlestick maker,” the older knight sighed. “It even rhymes. We can make a song out of it.”
“To what purpose?” Merric asked dryly. “I’m certainly not going to sing it anywhere.”
“Oh, come on,” Faleron said brightly. “We could start a trend. Kel, you start.”
“I’m not going to sing.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
“The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,” Faleron sang. “Three knights in a tub, and how do you think they got there?”
“Faleron, shut up,” Merric said loudly. “This is annoying and stupid.”
“And the candlestick maker said to the baker, ‘How bendy is the butcher?’”
“What?”
“Bendy? What does that even mean?”
“And the butcher said, ‘Bendy enough to make a man stare.’”
Kel splashed him in his face. “This is rude, Faleron.”
“As the poets of old would say, I am a knave.”
Merric groaned. “You’re beginning to sound like Neal.”
At last, there was another long silence. Kel reveled in its peace.
“What rhymes with tub?” Faleron mused out loud. “And all the knights in the tub went ‘glub, glub, glub?’”
“No.”
“And all the knights wanted to—rub—wanted to rub—”
“Ugh, shut up.”
“Rub my nub—”
“Faleron, that’s disgusting. Please don’t say that while we’re in the tub with you. Naked.”
“Rub-a-dub-dub, three knights in a tub, and who do you think they be?”
Kel groaned and buried her face in her wet hand.
“Come on, Kel,” Faleron urged. “Who do you think they be?”
She sighed, “The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker...”
He cleared his throat, and Merric muttered compliantly, “And the candlestick maker said to the baker, ‘How bendy is the butcher?’”
“And the butcher said, ‘Bendy enough to make a man stare!’”
Kel let out a tired giggle, and even Merric managed a wan smile. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
“You mean you never expected to be stuck in a tub with two naked men—”
“Sh,” Faleron suddenly hissed. “Do you hear that?”
All three of them froze, listening with keen ears. Somewhere out in the hallway, someone was whistling. And it was coming closer.
“Hey!” Merric called. “Is someone there?”
The whistling stopped. “Merric? Is that you?”
“Oh, gods,” Faleron whispered. “It’s Neal.”
“Not him—”
“He’s never going to understand this. We’re not going to hear the end of it.”
“Ever.”
“But do we have a choice?” Kel asked practically. “I’d rather him than, say, Lord Wyldon.”
Faleron shuddered. “Fine,” he sighed. “Neal, look—we need your help. But you can’t tell anyone. And we swear, it’s not what you think!”
“All right,” Neal said curiously as the door began to swing open. “Is everything okay in he—Great Merciful Mother, what is going on?”
“It’s not what you think,” Kel said emphatically.
“Rub-a-dub-dub,” Faleron said under his breath.
Merric shot him a malicious look and said, “We’re stuck. Don’t ask how. We’ll explain later. But you’ve got to help us. Please.”
Neal leaned against the doorframe, his face sly. “I don’t know,” he drawled. “I have so many chores to do. And I do so enjoy just watching dear Keladry bathing with you...”
“I’m not bathing,” she insisted. “I’m fully clothed. I tripped and fell in here.”
“Sure.” He rolled his eyes and examined his fingernails. He was doing a laudable job of hiding his amusement, which, she was sure, was extensive. “But I really am busy, what with writing reports and counting out supplies...”
“Fine,” Merric sighed. “We’ll do your stupid chores for you. Just get us out.”
“My pleasure.”
Neal strode into the room, very satisfied with himself and taking no pains to hide the wicked smile on his face. She resigned herself to a lifetime of relentless ribbing. And there was definitely no way he was going to keep his mouth shut. She shuddered at the thought of the Own hearing about it. Then she shuddered at the thought of Wyldon hearing about it...or Ilane...!
Faleron suddenly pointed, his voice strangling in his throat. Kel glanced in the direction he was frantically gesturing and froze, horrified, as Merric cried desperately,
“Neal, wait—watch out for the rug!”
Neal glanced down in vague surprise—
—and tripped.
Rating (and Warnings): PG-13 (it may need to go up). Beware crack!, accidental sandwiches!, nudity!, and Faleron's vulgar mouth and inability to sing.
Fairytale/Nursery Rhyme adapted: Rub-a-Dub-Dub, Three Men in a Tub. See here .
Word Count: 2,005
Summary: Keladry, Faleron, and Merric find themselves in need of, ahem, discreet assistance.
Notes: Don't worry, I am totally aware of how implausible this is Also, thanks to Roger's Lair for helping me with wrinkle-in-rug vs. fold
-----
“Hey! Is someone there?”
Keladry paused just past the closed door, frowning slightly. “Merric,” she said, “is that you?”
“Of all the luck—”
“We can’t let her come in—”
“Would you rather a servant find us?”
“No, they’ll never stop talking about it.”
“Would you rather another knight find us?”
“Well, not particularly, no.”
The important stack of papers in her hand were all but forgotten as she backed up a couple paces. “Faleron? Are you in there, too?”
There was a splash and a curse. Someone cleared his throat. “Yes, we’re both in here. We’re in need of, ah...assistance. Discreet assistance.”
She glanced down one dimly lit end of the corridor and found it empty. She turned her head. There was no one at that end, either. She laid a hand on the doorknob. “I’m alone,” she said cautiously. “Is everything okay?”
“Well...no. No, not really.”
“Should I come in?”
“No!”
Kel quickly pulled her hand back, alarmed. I hope they’re okay, she thought with a mixture of worry and curiosity. If they were hurt, I think they’d say something. But why are they acting so—so strange? She peered surreptitiously around again and then placed her ear against the door. All she heard were frantic, furious whispers and some gentle splashing. What was splashing in there...?
“Okay,” the voice she pinned as Merric said heavily. “You can come in. But first, you have to swear on every god you believe in that what you see will never leave this room.”
She scratched the back of her head. “I swear it.”
“And,” Faleron added, “you have to remember, it’s not what you think.”
She blinked. “Okay...”
“So mote it be,” Merric said solemnly. “Come in.”
She was suddenly dubious as to whether she actually wanted to go in now. Still, they needed her help. How could she refuse? She turned the knob and pushed.
“Boys,” she said after a moment, “the door’s locked.”
“Oh, for Mithros’ sake,” Merric muttered. “How are we going to work this?”
Someone exhaled loudly.
Kel asked, “You can’t just come over and unlock it?”
“It’s...a bit more complicated than that, I’m afraid.”
She propped her hands on her hips and stared at the door. What was going on in there?
“Okay, Merric—on my count, we’re both going to heave this way. I think we’ll be able to scoot this thing over there. Ready? One, two—”
The most horrible screech resounded from inside the room. Kel took a step back as it came closer. Screeeech. Pause. Screeeech. Pause. “Faleron, do something with that, it’s digging into my thigh.” Screeeech. Pause. Screeeeech. Pause. Screeeech. Pause. The locked clicked.
“Don’t come in yet!” Faleron said anxiously. “Wait until we get back.”
And so it started again. She couldn’t even begin to place the weird scraping sound, like metal against—something. Or something.
Finally, someone called, “You can come in. But you can’t tell! And you can’t laugh, either!”
Kel readied herself with a deep, calming breath, and opened the door.
Whatever she expected, it certainly wasn’t this.
In a frightening jumbled mass of limbs, Faleron and Merric had somehow managed to stuff themselves in a too-small iron tub (ah, the screeching sound!) that was sloshing with water. Faleron was sitting lengthwise with his knees akimbo, while Merric, facing him, had somehow managed to wedge himself in between his cousin’s legs. Somehow, crammed so close together in that tiny tub, they got themselves stuck.
And suddenly she realized that they were naked.
Kel closed her eyes.
“I know what it looks like,” Faleron said quickly, his cheeks pink, “but it’s not like—that. That’s gross, Merric’s my cousin. And a boy.”
“A man, actually.”
“Really? Because from what I can see—”
“Enough,” she blurted, quickly holding up a hand. “I don’t want to hear about it. Please, just...explain. Just explain.”
“Will you close the door first?”
They watched her hastily shut the door—it wasn’t like she wanted anyone walking by and see her with them.
“Thanks. So Faleron and I came back to his room after sparring practice, and he was soaking while I was waiting for him to get out so I could soak. Well, he was about to get out, so I was undressing and walking around the tub, but I tripped and fell in and we couldn’t get out and now we’re packed so tight in here and it’s weird, Kel, it’s weird and you have to get us out!”
He was breathing heavily by the time he was done, and Faleron looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Kel, just come over here and pull us out, please.”
She braced herself and started toward them. I’ll just grab one by the arm and yank, she decided. I can probably pry one loose from this—position—enough for them to wiggle free— “Ho!”
Her foot caught on an unseen fold in the rug and pitched her forward. Her momentum was too strong, and she couldn’t stop herself as she spun around and hit the tub with a jarring shock to the back of the knees. She grunted, and tumbled into the little iron tub with a splash and yelps from its two current occupants.
“Ow, Kel, what did you do—”
“Get out and help us—”
“I—I can’t!”
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I can’t get out! I’m stuck!”
They stared at her in horror as she braced her elbows on the rim and tried to heave herself out. She couldn’t. Her rear was wedged too firmly—between their legs. She swallowed, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths. When she thought she was under control, she surveyed her situation with an objective and only slightly twitching eye.
Merric and Faleron were both sitting lengthwise, each with one knee awkwardly drawn up against his chest and another digging into her respective thigh. She was sitting on one hand. Her legs were draped over the edge of the tub, so at least she wasn’t crammed in there with them—but it also meant she couldn’t get a proper grip with her feet.
Yes, it was just too tight a fit. There was no room to maneuver.
“This is not happening,” she whispered, fighting down a blush and losing.
“At least you’re not naked,” Merric said unhelpfully. His face was as colorful as his hair.
“Someone will come along soon,” she said fiercely. “They’ll help us.”
“That’s we thought,” Faleron said darkly. “We’ve been sitting here for two hours. Haven’t you noticed that this water is cold?”
“I have,” his cousin muttered, glancing down.
Kel passed her free hand over her face, struggling to regain some composure. I’m stuck in a tub, she thought faintly, with my two naked male friends. How can it possibly get any worse?
Long, slow minutes passed. No one said anything and the silence dragged on. She stared dejectedly at her knees.
“Did I ever tell you I learned how to make candles?” Faleron finally said.
They looked at him.
“Hey, we’re stuck together,” he told them. “I figure we might as well have a normal conversation.”
“You’re naked,” Kel said, bewildered. “What kind of normal conversation could we possibly have?”
There was another moment of quiet.
“I used to help the butcher back in the Yamani Islands,” she offered. “He’d let me cut off chickens’ heads.”
“No wonder you’re so barbaric,” Merric snorted. “I have one. You can’t make fun of me for it—”
“Really, Merric?” Kel sighed. “You’re naked, Faleron’s naked, and I’m in a very compromising position right now. We’re not making fun of anyone.”
“Good,” he said. “Well, then. I cook.”
“You...cook?”
“I bake, really. Pastries, cakes, sweetrolls...”
Faleron and Kel carefully avoided looking at each other.
“So we’ve got a butcher, a baker, and a candlestick maker,” the older knight sighed. “It even rhymes. We can make a song out of it.”
“To what purpose?” Merric asked dryly. “I’m certainly not going to sing it anywhere.”
“Oh, come on,” Faleron said brightly. “We could start a trend. Kel, you start.”
“I’m not going to sing.”
“Come on.”
“No.”
“The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,” Faleron sang. “Three knights in a tub, and how do you think they got there?”
“Faleron, shut up,” Merric said loudly. “This is annoying and stupid.”
“And the candlestick maker said to the baker, ‘How bendy is the butcher?’”
“What?”
“Bendy? What does that even mean?”
“And the butcher said, ‘Bendy enough to make a man stare.’”
Kel splashed him in his face. “This is rude, Faleron.”
“As the poets of old would say, I am a knave.”
Merric groaned. “You’re beginning to sound like Neal.”
At last, there was another long silence. Kel reveled in its peace.
“What rhymes with tub?” Faleron mused out loud. “And all the knights in the tub went ‘glub, glub, glub?’”
“No.”
“And all the knights wanted to—rub—wanted to rub—”
“Ugh, shut up.”
“Rub my nub—”
“Faleron, that’s disgusting. Please don’t say that while we’re in the tub with you. Naked.”
“Rub-a-dub-dub, three knights in a tub, and who do you think they be?”
Kel groaned and buried her face in her wet hand.
“Come on, Kel,” Faleron urged. “Who do you think they be?”
She sighed, “The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker...”
He cleared his throat, and Merric muttered compliantly, “And the candlestick maker said to the baker, ‘How bendy is the butcher?’”
“And the butcher said, ‘Bendy enough to make a man stare!’”
Kel let out a tired giggle, and even Merric managed a wan smile. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”
“You mean you never expected to be stuck in a tub with two naked men—”
“Sh,” Faleron suddenly hissed. “Do you hear that?”
All three of them froze, listening with keen ears. Somewhere out in the hallway, someone was whistling. And it was coming closer.
“Hey!” Merric called. “Is someone there?”
The whistling stopped. “Merric? Is that you?”
“Oh, gods,” Faleron whispered. “It’s Neal.”
“Not him—”
“He’s never going to understand this. We’re not going to hear the end of it.”
“Ever.”
“But do we have a choice?” Kel asked practically. “I’d rather him than, say, Lord Wyldon.”
Faleron shuddered. “Fine,” he sighed. “Neal, look—we need your help. But you can’t tell anyone. And we swear, it’s not what you think!”
“All right,” Neal said curiously as the door began to swing open. “Is everything okay in he—Great Merciful Mother, what is going on?”
“It’s not what you think,” Kel said emphatically.
“Rub-a-dub-dub,” Faleron said under his breath.
Merric shot him a malicious look and said, “We’re stuck. Don’t ask how. We’ll explain later. But you’ve got to help us. Please.”
Neal leaned against the doorframe, his face sly. “I don’t know,” he drawled. “I have so many chores to do. And I do so enjoy just watching dear Keladry bathing with you...”
“I’m not bathing,” she insisted. “I’m fully clothed. I tripped and fell in here.”
“Sure.” He rolled his eyes and examined his fingernails. He was doing a laudable job of hiding his amusement, which, she was sure, was extensive. “But I really am busy, what with writing reports and counting out supplies...”
“Fine,” Merric sighed. “We’ll do your stupid chores for you. Just get us out.”
“My pleasure.”
Neal strode into the room, very satisfied with himself and taking no pains to hide the wicked smile on his face. She resigned herself to a lifetime of relentless ribbing. And there was definitely no way he was going to keep his mouth shut. She shuddered at the thought of the Own hearing about it. Then she shuddered at the thought of Wyldon hearing about it...or Ilane...!
Faleron suddenly pointed, his voice strangling in his throat. Kel glanced in the direction he was frantically gesturing and froze, horrified, as Merric cried desperately,
“Neal, wait—watch out for the rug!”
Neal glanced down in vague surprise—
—and tripped.