Jeeves and the Pea Test
Mar. 22nd, 2011 01:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trista_zevkiaTitle: Jeeves and the Pea Test
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 1/2
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Characters/Pairing: Jeeves/Wooster
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH
Summary: The Brothers Grim are rolling their eyes in their graves.
Disclaimer: All monies made will go to seducing people to the world of Wodehouse, even if it means making them watch the Fry and Laurie DVD’s.
Author's Notes: I was hoping to get this done for Toodlepipsigner's birthday, but real life is fighting me. Spring is in the air and up my nose! Not beta'd, so all mistakes do belong to me.
Jeeves and the Pea Test
Once upon a time, there was a handsome young prince, who didn’t want to marry. Being the heir to his uncle’s kingdom, he knew he had a duty to marry. He would do so, but it was understandable that he decided to put it off as long as possible. This made his uncle unhappy, so one day he made a point of saying so.
“I don’t like seeing you alone. You should get married.” The King said without preamble.
“Whom did you have in mind, Uncle?” Their kingdom was an isolated, island country. As such, they didn’t have a great many royal neighbors to select brides from.
“I’m still king, I’ll simply change the law so you may marry whomever you wish.” A generous offer, but it would accelerate the marriage the prince was trying to delay. Fortunately, the prince was rather clever.
“I see no merit in changing the law for my convenience. The law has served our kingdom for generations, and I must insist that I follow the old ways.” The king snorted at that, he knew a delaying tactic when he was presented with one!
“As you wish, Reginald.” The prince offered his uncle a formal nod of appreciation. “I’ll simply send envoys across the pond to places with eligible royals. Advertise your situation, as it were.”
Reginald looked rather scandalized, by the way his eyes slightly widened and his nostrils flared, but gave another nod. This nod was acceptance of the situation. As much as he hated the inappropriateness of publishing his difficulties, he knew it would buy him more time to himself. “Uncle, how will we be able to confirm if someone answering the advertisement is being honest about their lineage? I have very little patience for dishonest people, as you well know.”
“True, and I don’t want to align you with someone you cannot stand. You’ll still get to choose your spouse, Reginald, but I’ll establish a test.”
“Very well, Uncle. I suppose we all must do what is best for the kingdom.” Reginald didn’t sigh after his words, but his Uncle Charlie knew he wanted to. King Charles let himself sigh, and wish for somebody to make his nephew happy.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Between them, King Charles and Prince Reginald settled on a system to find someone suitable. The most uncomfortable mattress they could find was placed in the nicest guest room. It was threadbare, lumpy and smelled funny, no matter how well it was cleaned! A second, but nice, mattress was placed on top of this, along with the finest linens and blankets. King Charles believed a pretender would be exhausted from the charade, and sleep well no matter where they were. A true royal would be too sensitive and refined to sleep, yet still bratty enough to complain about it in the morning. Reginald believed someone raised on the finery of royalty would be secure enough in their position to say they slept poorly. Pretenders to the throne would lie about how well they slept, believing they’d had the finest bed in the castle. Just to be sure, Reginald evenly spaced ten dried peas between the mattresses. Nobody would sleep well on that bed, making them more likely to make mistakes.
The uncomfortable bedding worked, better than they expected. A princess would arrive with her entourage, and be greeted warmly. After a tour of the castle and an excellent meal or two, she would be shown to her room. The next morning, she would appear with bags under her eyes and announce how well she slept. A look would be exchanged between the king and prince, shortly before she was politely told that she’d never marry Reginald. After turning away the fifteenth woman, a prince turned up. It was unexpected, but Reginald gave him the pea test without flinching. The fake prince was dismissed as easily as the other suitors, but King Charles broadened his search to include eligible princes. Reginald didn’t seem to mind, and Charlie was for whatever made his nephew happy.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Reginald had the best education opportunities available, and even after ending his formal education he kept learning. He read books on every subject and turned this knowledge to practical applications around his kingdom. Irrigation had increased crop production, and strange machines had eased the workload on his people. Happy and prosperous, the people of the kingdom loved the idea of him, but King Charles received the honor of Reginald’s work. Most wouldn’t even have recognized Reginald if he’d walked down the street in normal clothes. Today he was in normal clothes, getting them dirty beside the blacksmith’s shop.
A happy and prosperous kingdom had things that needed to be done, but not much to keep his massive brain occupied. As such, Reginald sought a distraction at the forge. He shirt sleeves were rolled up while he attempted to fix the timepiece that had been imported decades ago. Despite a tiny bit of padding on his stomach from food fit for a king, he was in good shape and could pound out metal with the fully trained blacksmith. But he had a special skill for tiny details and often found himself doing these delicate tasks.
While his hands worked, Reginald was considering accepting the next person to arrive, simply to end this farce. Marrying would make his Uncle happy, no matter how miserable it made Reginald. Besides, Reginald was a rational man who knew true love wasn’t something one could count on. As much as he wished for it, his brain said he’d never find someone to love. Or, more precisely, someone to love him. Reginald knew he seemed cold and distant, but he simply couldn’t help thinking before he spoke. He knew he was more attracted to the occasional prince than the frequent princess, so that was a choice he could allow himself. Closing the back of the clock, Reginald made a promise to himself. Unless the next real prince was absolutely disgusting, he’d marry him and get it over with.
“Hullo!” Reginald looked up at the greeting, surprised that someone had walked up on him. He must have been deeper in thought than he’d known. That soft footed someone was beaming down at him with a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Bertie the Bard, a traveling troubadour!”
This came with a deep bow, even as Reginald stood and spoke.
“Isn’t that a bit redundant, Sir?” The face that returned from the bow looked confused, so Reginald had to explain. He wasn’t sure why he’d said anything, as he considered it rude to offer such statements, so clarifying was only fair. “I believe a troubadour is defined as a wandering musician, as such you are a traveling, wandering musician.”
“I see what you mean. Fortunately, none of the other people I’ve said that to were as smart as you.” The easy smile that came with these words surprised Reginald, as it wasn’t the usual response to rudeness. The Bard was dressed in filthy, stained clothes, only the cases of his musical instruments showing care and concern. A guitar on his back, probably a harp in the bag hanging from his left shoulder and right hip, and a drum crossing the opposite way. Reginald was distracted from the oiled instrument cases when Bertie snapped his fingers and looked up. “Bertie the Bard, the terrific troubadour! Better right? It makes sense and it’s still catchy!”
“It does effectively convey your name and occupation.” Reginald’s words made Bertie laugh, and clap him on the shoulder.
“I like you, you’re smart. Still, I could murder a cup of tea and a hot bath. Do you think the occupants would let me, in exchange for a bit of melody?” Reginald considered the request and the fact that the bard didn’t know he addressed a prince.
“Do you play piano?”
“Every chance I get! Love to tickle the ivories, but I have to travel a bit lighter than a grand piano. Why?”
Reginald hesitated before answering. Was Bertie the Bard an idiot? “There is a piano, inside.”
“Oh, I see! Wonder what I’d have to pay to get a chance at that?”
“Excuse me, but I thought you claimed to be a bard?” Reginald’s words chased the hopeful, curious expression from Bertie’s face.
“I do! I mean, I am a bard.”
“Then they pay you to perform, not the other way around.” Those words brought another smile, one so brilliant Reginald almost smiled back.
“Right again! I so could use a brain like yours. I just love to play, so sometimes I forget about payment and food.” The growl from his stomach emphasized his words, and made Reginald smile just a little.
“Come with me Sir, and I’ll get you a hot bath and a meal.”
“Oh no, I’ll go clean up in the river before presenting myself to the homeowners. Don’t want to get you in trouble, old horse!”
“King Charles would rather see a hungry man feed then a presentable bard.”
“Well, if you’re sure, because a hot bath sounds bally marvelous after my travels.”
“I often wish I could travel more, so perhaps you would tell me of yours?” Reginald asked, even as he led the way into the castle. He was surprised at the casual way he admitted to one of his deepest wishes, but this bard was so easy going Reginald felt himself relaxing around him.
“Really? I’m more of a homebody, and I’d love to simply stay at a nice place with a decent piano. And the occasional drop of the good stuff, I will admit to a liking for that!”
“Then why don’t you seek out such a posting?” Reginald looked away from the servant’s staircase he was climbing to see Bertie respond to this question. The bard blushed, and looked down at the stairs.
“I’m a bit of a trouble magnet. I don’t know how these things happen, but when they do I find it best to leave.”
“What things?” Reginald stopped on the stairs to stare at Bertie. Thieves, assassins and incompetents were not welcomed here. It must have shown in his voice and posture, because Bertie was quick to understand.
“Nothing dangerous, I assure you! I don’t know what it is, but everywhere I go I get talked into doing things I don’t want to do. Or some modern woman decides I’m going to marry her, even though I haven’t shared more than two words with her. I don’t mean for things to happen, but they do.” Bertie shrugged, and Reginald believed this ridiculous statement! Deciding he could no longer think of himself as a rational man, Reginald turned and led Bertie to the guest room.
“I say!”
Stopping in the door of the room with the bathtub, Reginald looked back. Bertie was standing in the main door, looking around in awe. When he saw Reginald looking, he shrugged and spoke.
“I’m just a bard, I usually get servant’s quarters or some hay in the barn. I can’t take this nice of a room, you’re sure to get in trouble!”
“I assure you, I will not get in trouble. This will provide you with a hot bath, privacy and rest so that you may perform your best.” A gesture with his hand to bathtub and he had Bertie’s curiosity. Bertie tiptoed across the room, as if afraid normal steps would knock dirt off of him to the clean floor. He was probably right, Reginald thought, but didn’t say.
“Goodness! That’s the biggest tub I’ve ever seen! Bet it takes hours to fill with water.” Since he was in workman’s clothes, Reginald didn’t have to adjust his attire as he stepped to the front of the tub.
“It used to, actually. Two and a half hours of carrying buckets of water up the servant’s stairs to fill this tub. But I,” Reginald hesitated, not wanting to ruin the easy atmosphere just yet. “The crown prince thought this wasteful, so he came up with this.”
Reginald turned on the taps and waited until the water came out of the pipes. Bertie stared, struck dumb for a solid minute, before his face split into a huge smile. “That’s marvelous! Running water inside a building!”
Reginald allowed himself to turn up the edges of his lips in a smile, please at the reaction. His people had become used to this rather quickly and servants worked it for guests, so he didn’t get to see that kind of appreciation often. Even though he preferred to work in the background, Reginald found it was nice to be appreciated! “If you remove your clothing, I’ll take it down to be cleaned while you bathe. I can even procure other things for you to wear, if you’d like the clothes inside your bag cleaned as well.”
Bertie gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I don’t have any clothes in my bag, that’s for mouth organs and pipes. I’ve got two changes of clothes, and I just wear them all, changing what’s on the outside when I need to wear something different.”
Reginald couldn’t repress a violent shiver at the idea, but Bertie must have missed it. With the bath full and at the perfect temperature, Reginald stood and turned to face his guest. Bertie had removed all of his clothing and was staring at the bath with longing. Reginald’s attention was drawn, not to the nudity or the sharp relief of bones that were visible, but to the small wooden duck in Bertie’s hand. Bertie noticed the look, and held it out for Reginald to inspect.
“A childhood toy I couldn’t part with.”
“The bath is ready for you, Sir.”
“What’s all this sir stuff? I’m just Bertie.” A shrug later, and just Bertie was in tub sighing in bliss, his ducky floating before him. Reginald bit back the urge to laugh, and carefully gathered up the filthy clothes.
“I will bring you clean clothes shortly, Sir.” Before Bertie could wake up enough to reply, Reginald had slipped out of the room. A quick survey of the rags allowed Reginald to decide to throw them all out and provide Bertie with new clothes. Digging through the stores of goods for household servants, Reginald found pieces that would bring out the blue in those sparkling eyes. He considered taking Bertie a new bag for his clothes, but didn’t want to think about the man leaving just yet. He couldn’t have said why, so he convinced himself it was only Bertie’s friendly nature. Who else, when offered the nicest quest room, would be thinking about someone else? Reginald sent a servant to tell his Uncle that a bard had showed up, and carried the clothes upstairs. Bertie was asleep in the tub, so Reginald had to fake a cough to wake him gently.
“Sorry! Guess the water’s perfect.” Bertie blushed a little at being caught sleeping, and Reginald smiled, a tiny upturn of the edges of his lips.
“I would not have woken you, but supper will be served shortly.”
“Supper! Marvelous!” Ducking under the water, Bertie sat up and washed it out. When he was satisfied it was rinsed well, Bertie climbed out of the tub. He walked over to where Reginald was preparing the shaving things, toweling at his hair. Reginald turned away to drain the water, but allowed himself an appreciative look at Bertie’s naked backside. Thin, but strong from a nomadic lifestyle, perfect for holding. Reginald quickly looked away, to find a place for the duck to dry. “Say, old thing, I never got your name!”
Placing the duck on a small cloth and on the windowsill was easier than answering that question. How long could a person be in a kingdom before learning the crown prince shared the same name as the man helping you bathe? He had other names, ones people didn’t use as much, so maybe he could use those and not lie.
“Though, if you don’t want to tell me, so I can’t tell them who put me in this room, I’d understand.” Bertie sounded apologetic for having asked such a simple, polite question.
“Jeeves, Sir. My name is Jeeves and I appreciate your consideration. I was simply attempting to make your duck comfortable.” It was a silly thing to say, but before Reginald could regret anthropomorphizing a wooden duck Bertie was moving. Naked, with half his face covered in shaving cream, Bertie moved to stand beside him.
“Thank you! Nobody’s ever cared for Benji before, but that wood has to dry slowly or he’ll crack and I’ll lose him.” The tone of Bertie’s voice brought heat and color to Reginald’s cheeks. He’d moved to take care of an object simply because it was wisest and Bertie was made happy by such a simple expediency!
“I endeavor to give satisfaction, Sir.” Bertie laughed and tossed a friendly arm around his shoulders. And Reginald found himself wanting to react, more than he ever had in his life! He wanted to pull Bertie in for a kiss and then see just how clean the man was after his bath. “Sir! Um, supper will be ready shortly, if you wish to finish shaving.”
Oblivious to Reginald’s confused stuttering, Bertie swung away, back to the mirror. He began to whistle as he finished shaving. His whistling only stopped when he saw the clothes laid out for him.
“Jeeves, old horse, those aren’t my clothes.”
“They are now, Sir.”
“You’re very kind, but I’ll give these back for my others.”
“Those items, Sir, were little more than rags.”
“Maybe, but that salmon colored shirt brought color to my cheeks.”
“As it did to most who viewed you in full sunlight, Sir.”
“Those tartan pants were the envy of my friends!”
“It is most kind of you to volunteer your time with the blind, Sir.”
“These are boring, respectable even!”
“That was my intention, Sir.”
“I’ll, I’ll tell your king!”
“That I destroyed your rags and provided serviceable clothes of a higher quality and value?”
“Er, well, when you put it that way. I guess I did need new things, I’m just not used to all this for nothing.”
“Sir, the royal family has a particular fondness for piano playing. I expect you will pay for the new clothing by performing until you run out of songs.”
“That’s a deal I can go for! Though if I do run out of songs, I might even make up a few, just for you.”
“Most kind, Sir. If you’ll follow me, I show you to where the servants eat.”
They went to the kitchen and while Bertie introduced himself to the staff, Reginald sent a message to his uncle. He often took a meal in the solitude of his room when engrossed in a project, so his uncle would think that was why he was avoiding supper tonight. Reginald saw no reason to change this assessment. The servants gave him a respectful berth, and left him to eat with Bertie. The Bard insisted that the nap had refreshed him and he needed to pay for his lodging. So at the appropriate time, Reginald showed him to the study. Trusting to his Uncle’s love of music, Reginald returned to his room and opened the window. He could hear as Bertie sat at the piano and began to play. It was the happy tunes Uncle Charlie preferred, but Reginald still enjoyed it. When the music was finished, Reginald feel into the deepest sleep he’d had in a while.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chapter 2
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 1/2
Fandom: Jeeves and Wooster
Characters/Pairing: Jeeves/Wooster
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH
Summary: The Brothers Grim are rolling their eyes in their graves.
Disclaimer: All monies made will go to seducing people to the world of Wodehouse, even if it means making them watch the Fry and Laurie DVD’s.
Author's Notes: I was hoping to get this done for Toodlepipsigner's birthday, but real life is fighting me. Spring is in the air and up my nose! Not beta'd, so all mistakes do belong to me.
Jeeves and the Pea Test
Once upon a time, there was a handsome young prince, who didn’t want to marry. Being the heir to his uncle’s kingdom, he knew he had a duty to marry. He would do so, but it was understandable that he decided to put it off as long as possible. This made his uncle unhappy, so one day he made a point of saying so.
“I don’t like seeing you alone. You should get married.” The King said without preamble.
“Whom did you have in mind, Uncle?” Their kingdom was an isolated, island country. As such, they didn’t have a great many royal neighbors to select brides from.
“I’m still king, I’ll simply change the law so you may marry whomever you wish.” A generous offer, but it would accelerate the marriage the prince was trying to delay. Fortunately, the prince was rather clever.
“I see no merit in changing the law for my convenience. The law has served our kingdom for generations, and I must insist that I follow the old ways.” The king snorted at that, he knew a delaying tactic when he was presented with one!
“As you wish, Reginald.” The prince offered his uncle a formal nod of appreciation. “I’ll simply send envoys across the pond to places with eligible royals. Advertise your situation, as it were.”
Reginald looked rather scandalized, by the way his eyes slightly widened and his nostrils flared, but gave another nod. This nod was acceptance of the situation. As much as he hated the inappropriateness of publishing his difficulties, he knew it would buy him more time to himself. “Uncle, how will we be able to confirm if someone answering the advertisement is being honest about their lineage? I have very little patience for dishonest people, as you well know.”
“True, and I don’t want to align you with someone you cannot stand. You’ll still get to choose your spouse, Reginald, but I’ll establish a test.”
“Very well, Uncle. I suppose we all must do what is best for the kingdom.” Reginald didn’t sigh after his words, but his Uncle Charlie knew he wanted to. King Charles let himself sigh, and wish for somebody to make his nephew happy.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Between them, King Charles and Prince Reginald settled on a system to find someone suitable. The most uncomfortable mattress they could find was placed in the nicest guest room. It was threadbare, lumpy and smelled funny, no matter how well it was cleaned! A second, but nice, mattress was placed on top of this, along with the finest linens and blankets. King Charles believed a pretender would be exhausted from the charade, and sleep well no matter where they were. A true royal would be too sensitive and refined to sleep, yet still bratty enough to complain about it in the morning. Reginald believed someone raised on the finery of royalty would be secure enough in their position to say they slept poorly. Pretenders to the throne would lie about how well they slept, believing they’d had the finest bed in the castle. Just to be sure, Reginald evenly spaced ten dried peas between the mattresses. Nobody would sleep well on that bed, making them more likely to make mistakes.
The uncomfortable bedding worked, better than they expected. A princess would arrive with her entourage, and be greeted warmly. After a tour of the castle and an excellent meal or two, she would be shown to her room. The next morning, she would appear with bags under her eyes and announce how well she slept. A look would be exchanged between the king and prince, shortly before she was politely told that she’d never marry Reginald. After turning away the fifteenth woman, a prince turned up. It was unexpected, but Reginald gave him the pea test without flinching. The fake prince was dismissed as easily as the other suitors, but King Charles broadened his search to include eligible princes. Reginald didn’t seem to mind, and Charlie was for whatever made his nephew happy.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Reginald had the best education opportunities available, and even after ending his formal education he kept learning. He read books on every subject and turned this knowledge to practical applications around his kingdom. Irrigation had increased crop production, and strange machines had eased the workload on his people. Happy and prosperous, the people of the kingdom loved the idea of him, but King Charles received the honor of Reginald’s work. Most wouldn’t even have recognized Reginald if he’d walked down the street in normal clothes. Today he was in normal clothes, getting them dirty beside the blacksmith’s shop.
A happy and prosperous kingdom had things that needed to be done, but not much to keep his massive brain occupied. As such, Reginald sought a distraction at the forge. He shirt sleeves were rolled up while he attempted to fix the timepiece that had been imported decades ago. Despite a tiny bit of padding on his stomach from food fit for a king, he was in good shape and could pound out metal with the fully trained blacksmith. But he had a special skill for tiny details and often found himself doing these delicate tasks.
While his hands worked, Reginald was considering accepting the next person to arrive, simply to end this farce. Marrying would make his Uncle happy, no matter how miserable it made Reginald. Besides, Reginald was a rational man who knew true love wasn’t something one could count on. As much as he wished for it, his brain said he’d never find someone to love. Or, more precisely, someone to love him. Reginald knew he seemed cold and distant, but he simply couldn’t help thinking before he spoke. He knew he was more attracted to the occasional prince than the frequent princess, so that was a choice he could allow himself. Closing the back of the clock, Reginald made a promise to himself. Unless the next real prince was absolutely disgusting, he’d marry him and get it over with.
“Hullo!” Reginald looked up at the greeting, surprised that someone had walked up on him. He must have been deeper in thought than he’d known. That soft footed someone was beaming down at him with a friendly smile. “Hi! I’m Bertie the Bard, a traveling troubadour!”
This came with a deep bow, even as Reginald stood and spoke.
“Isn’t that a bit redundant, Sir?” The face that returned from the bow looked confused, so Reginald had to explain. He wasn’t sure why he’d said anything, as he considered it rude to offer such statements, so clarifying was only fair. “I believe a troubadour is defined as a wandering musician, as such you are a traveling, wandering musician.”
“I see what you mean. Fortunately, none of the other people I’ve said that to were as smart as you.” The easy smile that came with these words surprised Reginald, as it wasn’t the usual response to rudeness. The Bard was dressed in filthy, stained clothes, only the cases of his musical instruments showing care and concern. A guitar on his back, probably a harp in the bag hanging from his left shoulder and right hip, and a drum crossing the opposite way. Reginald was distracted from the oiled instrument cases when Bertie snapped his fingers and looked up. “Bertie the Bard, the terrific troubadour! Better right? It makes sense and it’s still catchy!”
“It does effectively convey your name and occupation.” Reginald’s words made Bertie laugh, and clap him on the shoulder.
“I like you, you’re smart. Still, I could murder a cup of tea and a hot bath. Do you think the occupants would let me, in exchange for a bit of melody?” Reginald considered the request and the fact that the bard didn’t know he addressed a prince.
“Do you play piano?”
“Every chance I get! Love to tickle the ivories, but I have to travel a bit lighter than a grand piano. Why?”
Reginald hesitated before answering. Was Bertie the Bard an idiot? “There is a piano, inside.”
“Oh, I see! Wonder what I’d have to pay to get a chance at that?”
“Excuse me, but I thought you claimed to be a bard?” Reginald’s words chased the hopeful, curious expression from Bertie’s face.
“I do! I mean, I am a bard.”
“Then they pay you to perform, not the other way around.” Those words brought another smile, one so brilliant Reginald almost smiled back.
“Right again! I so could use a brain like yours. I just love to play, so sometimes I forget about payment and food.” The growl from his stomach emphasized his words, and made Reginald smile just a little.
“Come with me Sir, and I’ll get you a hot bath and a meal.”
“Oh no, I’ll go clean up in the river before presenting myself to the homeowners. Don’t want to get you in trouble, old horse!”
“King Charles would rather see a hungry man feed then a presentable bard.”
“Well, if you’re sure, because a hot bath sounds bally marvelous after my travels.”
“I often wish I could travel more, so perhaps you would tell me of yours?” Reginald asked, even as he led the way into the castle. He was surprised at the casual way he admitted to one of his deepest wishes, but this bard was so easy going Reginald felt himself relaxing around him.
“Really? I’m more of a homebody, and I’d love to simply stay at a nice place with a decent piano. And the occasional drop of the good stuff, I will admit to a liking for that!”
“Then why don’t you seek out such a posting?” Reginald looked away from the servant’s staircase he was climbing to see Bertie respond to this question. The bard blushed, and looked down at the stairs.
“I’m a bit of a trouble magnet. I don’t know how these things happen, but when they do I find it best to leave.”
“What things?” Reginald stopped on the stairs to stare at Bertie. Thieves, assassins and incompetents were not welcomed here. It must have shown in his voice and posture, because Bertie was quick to understand.
“Nothing dangerous, I assure you! I don’t know what it is, but everywhere I go I get talked into doing things I don’t want to do. Or some modern woman decides I’m going to marry her, even though I haven’t shared more than two words with her. I don’t mean for things to happen, but they do.” Bertie shrugged, and Reginald believed this ridiculous statement! Deciding he could no longer think of himself as a rational man, Reginald turned and led Bertie to the guest room.
“I say!”
Stopping in the door of the room with the bathtub, Reginald looked back. Bertie was standing in the main door, looking around in awe. When he saw Reginald looking, he shrugged and spoke.
“I’m just a bard, I usually get servant’s quarters or some hay in the barn. I can’t take this nice of a room, you’re sure to get in trouble!”
“I assure you, I will not get in trouble. This will provide you with a hot bath, privacy and rest so that you may perform your best.” A gesture with his hand to bathtub and he had Bertie’s curiosity. Bertie tiptoed across the room, as if afraid normal steps would knock dirt off of him to the clean floor. He was probably right, Reginald thought, but didn’t say.
“Goodness! That’s the biggest tub I’ve ever seen! Bet it takes hours to fill with water.” Since he was in workman’s clothes, Reginald didn’t have to adjust his attire as he stepped to the front of the tub.
“It used to, actually. Two and a half hours of carrying buckets of water up the servant’s stairs to fill this tub. But I,” Reginald hesitated, not wanting to ruin the easy atmosphere just yet. “The crown prince thought this wasteful, so he came up with this.”
Reginald turned on the taps and waited until the water came out of the pipes. Bertie stared, struck dumb for a solid minute, before his face split into a huge smile. “That’s marvelous! Running water inside a building!”
Reginald allowed himself to turn up the edges of his lips in a smile, please at the reaction. His people had become used to this rather quickly and servants worked it for guests, so he didn’t get to see that kind of appreciation often. Even though he preferred to work in the background, Reginald found it was nice to be appreciated! “If you remove your clothing, I’ll take it down to be cleaned while you bathe. I can even procure other things for you to wear, if you’d like the clothes inside your bag cleaned as well.”
Bertie gave an embarrassed chuckle. “I don’t have any clothes in my bag, that’s for mouth organs and pipes. I’ve got two changes of clothes, and I just wear them all, changing what’s on the outside when I need to wear something different.”
Reginald couldn’t repress a violent shiver at the idea, but Bertie must have missed it. With the bath full and at the perfect temperature, Reginald stood and turned to face his guest. Bertie had removed all of his clothing and was staring at the bath with longing. Reginald’s attention was drawn, not to the nudity or the sharp relief of bones that were visible, but to the small wooden duck in Bertie’s hand. Bertie noticed the look, and held it out for Reginald to inspect.
“A childhood toy I couldn’t part with.”
“The bath is ready for you, Sir.”
“What’s all this sir stuff? I’m just Bertie.” A shrug later, and just Bertie was in tub sighing in bliss, his ducky floating before him. Reginald bit back the urge to laugh, and carefully gathered up the filthy clothes.
“I will bring you clean clothes shortly, Sir.” Before Bertie could wake up enough to reply, Reginald had slipped out of the room. A quick survey of the rags allowed Reginald to decide to throw them all out and provide Bertie with new clothes. Digging through the stores of goods for household servants, Reginald found pieces that would bring out the blue in those sparkling eyes. He considered taking Bertie a new bag for his clothes, but didn’t want to think about the man leaving just yet. He couldn’t have said why, so he convinced himself it was only Bertie’s friendly nature. Who else, when offered the nicest quest room, would be thinking about someone else? Reginald sent a servant to tell his Uncle that a bard had showed up, and carried the clothes upstairs. Bertie was asleep in the tub, so Reginald had to fake a cough to wake him gently.
“Sorry! Guess the water’s perfect.” Bertie blushed a little at being caught sleeping, and Reginald smiled, a tiny upturn of the edges of his lips.
“I would not have woken you, but supper will be served shortly.”
“Supper! Marvelous!” Ducking under the water, Bertie sat up and washed it out. When he was satisfied it was rinsed well, Bertie climbed out of the tub. He walked over to where Reginald was preparing the shaving things, toweling at his hair. Reginald turned away to drain the water, but allowed himself an appreciative look at Bertie’s naked backside. Thin, but strong from a nomadic lifestyle, perfect for holding. Reginald quickly looked away, to find a place for the duck to dry. “Say, old thing, I never got your name!”
Placing the duck on a small cloth and on the windowsill was easier than answering that question. How long could a person be in a kingdom before learning the crown prince shared the same name as the man helping you bathe? He had other names, ones people didn’t use as much, so maybe he could use those and not lie.
“Though, if you don’t want to tell me, so I can’t tell them who put me in this room, I’d understand.” Bertie sounded apologetic for having asked such a simple, polite question.
“Jeeves, Sir. My name is Jeeves and I appreciate your consideration. I was simply attempting to make your duck comfortable.” It was a silly thing to say, but before Reginald could regret anthropomorphizing a wooden duck Bertie was moving. Naked, with half his face covered in shaving cream, Bertie moved to stand beside him.
“Thank you! Nobody’s ever cared for Benji before, but that wood has to dry slowly or he’ll crack and I’ll lose him.” The tone of Bertie’s voice brought heat and color to Reginald’s cheeks. He’d moved to take care of an object simply because it was wisest and Bertie was made happy by such a simple expediency!
“I endeavor to give satisfaction, Sir.” Bertie laughed and tossed a friendly arm around his shoulders. And Reginald found himself wanting to react, more than he ever had in his life! He wanted to pull Bertie in for a kiss and then see just how clean the man was after his bath. “Sir! Um, supper will be ready shortly, if you wish to finish shaving.”
Oblivious to Reginald’s confused stuttering, Bertie swung away, back to the mirror. He began to whistle as he finished shaving. His whistling only stopped when he saw the clothes laid out for him.
“Jeeves, old horse, those aren’t my clothes.”
“They are now, Sir.”
“You’re very kind, but I’ll give these back for my others.”
“Those items, Sir, were little more than rags.”
“Maybe, but that salmon colored shirt brought color to my cheeks.”
“As it did to most who viewed you in full sunlight, Sir.”
“Those tartan pants were the envy of my friends!”
“It is most kind of you to volunteer your time with the blind, Sir.”
“These are boring, respectable even!”
“That was my intention, Sir.”
“I’ll, I’ll tell your king!”
“That I destroyed your rags and provided serviceable clothes of a higher quality and value?”
“Er, well, when you put it that way. I guess I did need new things, I’m just not used to all this for nothing.”
“Sir, the royal family has a particular fondness for piano playing. I expect you will pay for the new clothing by performing until you run out of songs.”
“That’s a deal I can go for! Though if I do run out of songs, I might even make up a few, just for you.”
“Most kind, Sir. If you’ll follow me, I show you to where the servants eat.”
They went to the kitchen and while Bertie introduced himself to the staff, Reginald sent a message to his uncle. He often took a meal in the solitude of his room when engrossed in a project, so his uncle would think that was why he was avoiding supper tonight. Reginald saw no reason to change this assessment. The servants gave him a respectful berth, and left him to eat with Bertie. The Bard insisted that the nap had refreshed him and he needed to pay for his lodging. So at the appropriate time, Reginald showed him to the study. Trusting to his Uncle’s love of music, Reginald returned to his room and opened the window. He could hear as Bertie sat at the piano and began to play. It was the happy tunes Uncle Charlie preferred, but Reginald still enjoyed it. When the music was finished, Reginald feel into the deepest sleep he’d had in a while.
¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chapter 2
