Cold water spills over the prince's head and form, a downpour of desalinated sea water controlled from a golden pull cord. His skin shivers from the mix of temperatures. He is shocked he does not hear the sound of thunder or the hiss of lightning as the chill of the water meets the heat of his desire. Soap foams and swirls in the drain, carried harmlessly out to the sea.
     Gruffydd closes his eyes. No, there is not enough cold water in all the seas of the world to still me. Another tug of the cord, and he is drenched anew. "Duw!" he shouts at the icy chill. Okay, maybe that did it. Reaching for a towel, he sets the golden cord free and steps clear of the captain's shower.
     The orange blossom tea, the figs and apricots arranged for his love's pleasure that went untasted in all his enjoyment of her lips, are now enjoyed without her. He drizzles honey into the cup and adds a bit of sweet cream to the tea. Fruit and biscuits, cheese and tea. They fill the need for his mouth to be full, but they do not sate his hunger.
     Gruffydd reclines on his sofa, clothed in violet lounging silks and a plain pull-over shirt. His inky black hair, thick and wavy when dry, is curled, still heavy with water. It will be a couple of hours yet until dinner. He may as well relax as best he can...

     "Well, on the plus side, you didn't pull down her dress to show off her breasts to the entire room."
     The voice is sardonic, amused, and male. Should Gruffydd open his eyes, he will find that the pouty-lipped blonde youth of his nightmares is back in the room, dressed this time in a more punkish regalia; black jeans torn at the knee and a bit at the ass with a Dead Kennedys tee. A motorcycle jacket hangs louche from his shoulders, and his hair's a bit spiky with disarray rather than gel. He leans against the arm of the couch, then hops up onto it, perching there with a rude grin.
     "What's the matter, Gruffy? Can't wait? Don't have enough you need to clear between now and your wedding day? The papers, by the way, are being drawn up. Speak now or forever hold your peace, as it's already damn near too late to back out," Fionn drawls. Don't you just want to punch him? Changeable eyes glitter as he stares down at you. "Wakey, wakey, little princey..."

     "Hello...nainie," he says it with all due respect -- but he could do without the goading. It's hard enough -- literally -- as it is! Eyes opening, Gruffydd sits up, takes a swallow of the sweet tea and one of the apricots. That beautiful face - it is bland of expression as he nests his face in his hand, his elbow on the sofa's arm. "Or would you prefer Nino for this form? Sweet tea?" he offers quietly and magnanimously.
     Sitting up, he folds his arms at his chest and waits for the lecturing. "I would like it to move forward. I care about her. And I care about her even though I've had the lieutenant visit me fairly regularly over the past two days. I care for her more now than ever. I am not nervous about committing to her. I look forward to it, rather."
     Gruffydd sits forward to take his cup. He sips at the milky sweet tea. "I should have known you'd still be watching. She remains intact. Her cousin was here. Even though I wanted to carry her into the next room, I didn't." He almost did. He did everything but that. "Can you turn back into yourself again, nainie?"

     There is a flicker of a corner of reality rearranging itself, and Fionn becomes Fiona, sitting demurely on the arm of the sofa, legs crossed. "If you had had your way with her already, I'd be yelling. As it is, I can see I'm going to have my hands full. I don't think you get to call me nino - 'boy' isn't really something anyone should call me in that form who isn't sleeping with me."
     Your grandmother will always show she knows how to suck eggs (among other things) better than you. She takes up a cup of tea, sniffing it suspiciously, then sets it aside. "I'll draw the paperwork up and notify the Home Office, then - I don't know what your father's going to say, but it'll be easier if she can actually pass the official examination when it's done, you realize. Which means she needs to remain absolutely intact."

     He floods with color at your own boldness, despite himself. He gives you a look that you saw on Tiernan's face frequently enough as a young man. Hand squarely in the cookie jar. "I'll talk with father," Gruffydd says. "I should think he would want to hear it from me. As of yet, I haven't heard from him. I do not know if this is because papa Tiernan has allayed him of concern or... simply hasn't told him yet."
     Perhaps hedging bets...
     Gruffydd nods as you talk of the examination. "I know," he softly states. "I know it is imperative that she remain an Innocent. I am in control of myself, nainie. It's certainly not easy... what I want is something else entirely... but I understand how important it is. I truly do."
     At the same time, he is a man and will get away with as much as possible up to the limit.
     "I... wonder if it might not be permissible for us to be able to ...express ourselves in other ways that would not jeopardize her maidenhead. Once we set sail, I mean. Before then, unless Duchess Aureliana intervenes, I expect the king to make such dalliances extremely difficult to achieve."
     He has to smile a little at that but he tries not to grin. "I need to be with a woman. She is driving me mad. If I cannot taste her, then I need to be able to taste someone. But I certainly don't want her to know that I've been to a brothel. I don't want her hurt by any rumor or accusation, real or imagined."

     "Tiernan has been waiting on my word. We weren't going to say anything until we were quite sure which way things were going to go. There was no point in getting ahead of ourselves and letting him get worked up if it did turn out to be no more than a brief infatuation." Fiona informs you of it placidly enough; she summons up a hairbrush and begins to brush out the long cornsilk tresses. "I will send word before dinner, along with the preliminary agreements for his perusal. He has a very good head on his shoulders for business - luckily for Iowerth."
     She has a high opinion of her son-in-law, after all. Her difficulty was never with his personality and always only with the lack of discretion. "I have to say, your grandfather will be pleased that you're marrying a girl. First, at least."
     Her lips twitch. She knows full well Davydd's views, and as far as he has come, how he will react. The hairbrush is sent away, and she turns to look at you. "You have several options, for before we sail. You may opt to take part in those brothels down by the waterside in truth, and try to disguise it. You may opt to make further use of your male friends. Or we may call in outside help."

     Call in outside help? Now you have him intrigued. "I'd just as soon not run the risk of the public houses," he notes. "What sort of outside help are you thinking? I suppose I could requisition my own ... cadre here from the capitol. It would be more discreet than skulking down by the low market."
     An eyebrow lifts in his own thoughts and considerations.
     "I can see the sense in that. But...I agree... I think it is time father knows. This infatuation is ... not going to be brief." He smiles slightly. "Not brief at all. And... I haven't forgotten the... issue looming on the horizon: namely, how to tell her of my desire for both sexes. But I see no point in forcing the issue. It simply hasn't come up for discussion. I do know that the subject needs to be broached at some point, nainie. I just want you to know that... and that I am going into this with my eyes open and aware of what is before me. I just... love her. If she had been a he... I'd love her no less. No more, no less."
     There is a sigh and a blush as desire moves through him again. "You were talking about outside help..."

     "You are not bringing your cadre here." That is flat and nonnegotiable, and Fiona gives you the Look that her own children have grown up with. "Nor are you going to do this anywhere that word might get back. It would not be appropriate, and I won't have anyone have to suffer for this. You need release - I'll accept that. But not like that."
     She nods in satisfaction with her own words and beliefs, giving you that prim, stern look of utter uncompromise. "I am glad you are going into this with eyes open," her voice softens, "and I will try to help you and her both. I promise you that. You are, after all, my flesh and blood, and I do love you dearly, no matter how mad you might drive me. As for help... there really is only one option, I think. Though Davydd's going to want my head for this if he ever finds out - I only hope I can handle this properly."
     She sighs, standing and tapping her lower lip with a finger. "I really hate to do this," she frets. "It sets a terrible precedent."

     "I never thought I would be talking to my nainie about my own sexual needs. This has been a very strange week," Gruffydd notes lightly. "I don't mean to drive you mad," and he means that. He doesn't like displeasing you. Setting his tea aside, he takes up one of the honey stuffed dates and pops the sweetness into his mouth.
     He is curious about your plans, and he almost dreads to hear them. "This is a bit odd, you have to admit." He blushes and settles back. "Is it possible that... I could simply... be with Maria. All but penetration? That would be my preference. To ... be with her.."

     Fiona gives you a tolerant look. "Gruffydd, you promised you would try to keep your hands off her, and look how well that worked. I lost my virginity to your grandfather, I'll have you know. I know all about 'we'll just kiss' and where that leads to. And as he wasn't High King at the time, nor was my virginity going to be subject to inspection, it was more or less all right. You don't have that leeway for Oops, terribly sorry, my bad!"
     She paces back and forth, clothing changing almost without her noticing from queenly garb to London couture; jeans, a Davy's Girl t-shirt, and a ponytail. "I can't believe I am actually considering calling Gwilym and asking him to take you on a one-night tour of London's entertainments. Especially after what happened the last time he was in London. The better question might be, how will I explain it to your grandfather?"

     His mouth twists and his complexion deepens. Squeezing is lower lip between forefinger and thumb, Gruffydd sighs out a laugh. Very well, you're right. But then you mention your idea. London?
     He's never been to the mortal realm...
     Eyebrows lift upward in a slow arch -- so like his father -- as he considers the offer. And the ramifications. "I am sure there is an easier way, nainie. For now... I will simply... do my best to ... keep my hands in my pockets. I don't think I want my first journey to the mortal realm to be prowling for..." He pauses a moment, stopping the word that landed on his tongue and choosing another, "... female companionship. I appreciate the offer, however."
     Gruffydd sighs, flopping back on the sofa and hiding his eyes under an arm. "I don't know why virginity is a requirement for the contract. What difference does it make anyway? And why just for the girl? Why is this not extended for princes as well as princesses?"

     "Partly because it's a lot harder to check for, partly because men are sexist pigs." Ask a gender question, get a feminist answer - from your nainie, at least. "Also partly because women are the ones who have the babies, so if you're trying to keep the line pure, it helps to start with unmuddied snow."
     Fiona moves to retake a seat, watching you and clearly trying to think of options. "There ... is an option, I suppose... no, that wouldn't work either. Damn." She frowns. "I'm sorry, but I just haven't got much experience with procurement. The trouble is, you can't do it here, or anywhere that might get back to them. It would be a terrible insult. That requires you do it elsewhere, if it's going to be a girl. You're lucky I've been with Davydd so long; a couple of years ago," by her time, "I would be ready to throttle you over this."

     Gruffydd lifts his arm. "What did I do?" he quietly protests with a chuckle. "I kissed her, yes, yes. I did. But ... I haven't tried to undress her, I haven't even lifted her dress!" He laughs through his protestations, looking so suddenly like your eldest son. He has been rather by-the-book. Apart from kissing a princess' cleavage.
     It all seems so tame, so suddenly.
     "The worst thing I've done all week is fall in love. Before this, I was boring prince Gruffydd. Gruffydd the Level Headed. Gruffydd, the Four Cornered Prince of the United Kingdoms..."
     He raises his arms in helplessness. What am I to do?

     "Not over her. Over your being in love with her and trying to sleep with other women."
     Fiona leaves you with that (to you) cryptic comment. "You ... for now, get it out of your system as best you can. There's a couple of hours until dinner; I'm going to go see what I can do to help you. But on this one, for now, you're on your own. I will be back before dinner. Don't," she looks at you, "go seeking her out, or I will turn you into-"
     She stops abruptly. "That's it. As simple as that. Why didn't I think of it before?" She smiles suddenly, broadly. "Gruffydd, there is one thing you can do which will not cause problems. But it may not be to your taste. However, as it is a fairly potent magic, I will this time ask your consent before I do it..."

     "Why didn't you think of what before?" With a sighed groan, Gruffydd rolls over to stretch out on the sofa and on his stomach. His arms fold beneath his head. At potent and consent, his head turns and his eyes open.
     You have his attention.
     He is starting to get worried every time you have an epiphany. Just like all the other men in this family...

     "Oh, I'll just turn you into a girl," Fiona answers nonchalantly. "Then the two of you can have as much sex as you like, provided you don't penetrate her. And it'll be an excellent way of getting her loosened up - no pun intended - to the fact that you like boys."
     Your nainie smiles at you angelically. It is unlike any smile your mama has ever given you. And she waits for your reaction.

     And now his lineage is assured, for the look you get is pure Davydd. Are you kidding? Me? A girl? "Hmmm," he seems pretty unconvinced. "I don't think that's advisable. One... I don't want to be a girl. Two, I don't think I'd make a very convincing girl. And three ... there's very little reason to suspect she'd go for that. Four, even if she did, that doesn't mean her acceptance of my own bisexuality would be forthcoming. No," he sits up and then stands up. "I thank you, nainie, but... I will pass."
     He comes to you and places a kiss upon each of your cheeks. "I love you, and that you are so willing to help me. I am very blessed to have your support." But he doesn't want to cheat. Not too much. He just wants...her.
     "I am going to get ready for dinner. Let me know when you speak with father. I ...want to make sure I'm prepared to hear the reaction of the king."

     "I'll be letting Tiernan know first. I will talk to you later, Gruffydd." Your reaction does not faze her, but then, very little does. "I've also got to make a very brief journey home, and then I'll be back here. I love you, be careful, be good - my spies are everywhere, so I'll know - and I will do my best to be back before dinner."
     She steps away from you, and Fiona turns - and as simply as that, she's gone. What else, after all, is there to say?

Posted by rowan at July 12, 2008 04:30 PM