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schizoauthoressTitle: Sanctuary
Author: D.L. SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Warnings: fantasy AU, crossdressing (unwilling participant)
Word Count: 1943 (!)
Summary: Storytime with Ted and Michael.
Word of the Day: bonny - adjective:
1. Pleasing to the eye.
2. British Dialect. A. (Of people) Healthy, sweet, and lively. B. (Of places) Placid; tranquil. C. Pleasing; agreeable; good.
Sanctuary
The travelers spent the night in the main room of the cottage. Timothy in particular was shocked at how small and cramped the place was -- the whole building would probably have fit comfortably his suite in Castle Drake. But the room was warm and their hosts had provided plenty of blankets for them.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to put us up in the barn?" Stephanie mused as she arranged the thickest of blankets into three separate sleeping pads.
Cass shook her head. "That's not a barn, I don't think."
"Looks just like the two and a half dozen barns we passed before entering Rhu's Woods to me..." Timothy muttered. But he arched his neck and glanced out the small window facing the larger structure just to be certain.
"It might have been," the squire replied, pulling her legs close and crossing her ankles underneath herself, "at one point. But there aren't any animals here."
"I wonder what they use it for, then..."
Steph rolled her eyes. One trait that seemed common to whatever persona that Timothy took on -- curiosity. It had gotten them into trouble several times at Castle Drake, and she worried a little that it would get them into trouble here. The travelers didn't know much about the two men who agreed to shelter them for the night, and since they didn't (couldn't) know Tim's true identity, they wouldn't be as lenient as the castle staff or King Jack. "They'll let us know if they want us to know. It's not our place to ask, and certainly not now."
Cass smiled. "Certainly not." Steph wrinkled her nose at the hint of laughter she heard in Cass's tone, and stuck out her tongue.
"It's late. You made us ride hard today, Miss Cassandra."
"Only so you'll appreciate your nice, soft beds tonight."
"You had better appreciate these beds!" Steph huffed, putting her hands on her hips. The stern effect was ruined by the fact that she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "After I slaved on them!"
"You always say that, Stephanie," Timothy pointed out, punctuating the statement with a yawn.
"Mm-hm," Cass agreed, smirking slightly, "You do seem to slave an awful lot for a lady-in-waiting..."
"Oh..." Steph tossed a pillow at Cass, who snagged it out of the air with little effort and a widened smirk. "hush and go to bed, you two!"
****
Breakfast was a casual affair, though it was served earlier than Timothy was used to. Not that he minded being wakened by the smell of fresh coffee being brewed and the sound of soft conversation. Steph's familiar laugh was part of the sounds he heard.
He sat up, rubbing his face and making quiet, mumbly noises as he tried to convince himself to open his eyes. It was on the tip of his tongue to call for one of his ladies-in-waiting to draw a morning bath... and then he remembered exactly where he was. His eyes flew open, to find the sunlight just beginning to stream in through the high, small windows of the room. The other sleeping areas were vacated -- one a tangled mess and the other neatly re-folded. Tim scrambled out of the blankets and headed for the people sounds, wondering if he was the last one to rise and feeling awful for it.
"Look who's up!" Steph greeted him as he stumbled into the kitchen. Cass raised her mug of coffee, eyebrow lifted in a silent question of 'do you want some?' Tim raked a hand through his hair -- still thrown off by how short it was now -- and shook his head.
"You must think me t-terribly rude," he spoke to their hosts, hating the slight stammer that nervousness lent to his voice. "I didn't mean to sleep in." And he shot Steph a look that silently censured her for not waking him.
"Don't even worry about it," said Theodore, the shorter of the two men, and the one with the darker hair. He gave the contents of the large cooking pot another stir, then gathered a pinch of salt between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand and sprinkled it in, followed by a generous splash of milk. "Michael has an experiment he's been trying to recreate... he always wakes me when he gets up to check on it, even though he tries not to. So I've gotten into the habit of keeping these hours, but neither of us expect our guests to..."
"Sir Wayne has us up and training right about now," Cass commented. Timothy tried to hide a pained expression at the name drop, but neither of the men seemed to react to it.
"Eh, when it comes to nobility, it depends on the..." Michael waved a hand in the air as if beckoning the word to him, as he tried to think of it, "on the type you're dealing with. Mages keep all hours, the more militant seem to like greeting the dawn, and the idle ones prefer the company of the later morning sun."
Timothy blushed at that, but before he could apologize, Steph crossed the room and put a cup of coffee in his hands.
"We had a long ride yesterday, Tim. Theodore and Michael understand that."
Michael watched that interaction and grinned. Once again, Timothy found himself surprised at just how... shiny... a smile could be. The man chuckled and said to Tim, "Ah, you're the type who needs looking after. Like Ted."
"I can take care of myself, you know," Theodore retorted, between dishing up bowls of oat porridge for everyone, his expression somewhere between fond and annoyed.
Michael raised an eyebrow at that. "Do I have to remind you of how we met?"
Steph glanced between the two men, then looked to her friends. Both Cass and Timothy had similarly confused expressions. Cass bit her lower lip, eyes sparkling, and accepted the bowl that Theodore passed to her with a nod.
Timothy looked conflicted, but he couldn't stand it when people kept things from him. He sat down at the table and asked, "How did you two meet, then?"
Michael laughed. "Ted here got into a fight with warriors from the Order of the Green Hand."
Tim felt his jaw drop. "Y-you... you what?"
"And you're still standing?!" Steph burst out.
Theodore flushed with embarrassment, and dropped his gaze back to the table. He fiddled with his spoon, and mumbled, "If you must know, it was my mentor, Dan... he ended up insulting a lady who was with them... the Order members took offense..."
"And the two of them decided to take on the whole pub," Michael finished with a grin.
Cass tilted her head curiously. "But the whole pub couldn't be Order..."
"Most people wouldn't go up against them," Steph spoke her thoughts aloud, "I certainly wouldn't... they're mages, and they're as good at weapons fighting as some of the best knights."
Michael flashed them his bright, pretty smile again. "Not that it mattered to Ted, when Dan was in danger. And, well... I had to admire that kind of loyalty."
****
Years ago, and almost half a world away...
Michael ducked a misaimed ice spell and kicked over a table to shield himself. As he crouched down, he slipped several mystical stones into the power chamber on his belt. A protective shield flickered to life around him, and he popped back up with a grin on his face.
It had taken him years of study and hard work to get a practical model, but the belt was a success. Any defensive spell was at his disposal, despite the fact that he had no mystical talent. And with a little creative application, those defensive spells could be used for a successful offense. Of course, when he'd created it, he'd had far more resources than now, and repeating his success wasn't likely in his current situation. But just the one served his purposes.
He strolled over to where the handsome brunet was being choked out by the redheaded Order member with the terrible haircut. The handsome man had caught his eye earlier in the evening and Michael hated to see him hurt, although without the excuse of the brawl going on, he probably wouldn't have approached.
"Excuse me," Michael said pleasantly, masking his worry at how the brunet's face was rapidly approaching a shade to match his blue eyes.
"Butt out, dandy," the redheaded man growled through gritted teeth.
"You are aware that it will be difficult to extract an apology from him if he can't breathe?"
The man's only response was to try elbowing Michael away. The cute one flailed some more when the pressure on his throat let up. Michael moved his hand to strengthen the shield and deflect the redhead's blow.
"Let him go, sir. You're overreacting to a minor insult."
Confused by the fact that Michael was still talking when he should have been knocked back and breathless, the redhead looked up. When he realized that Michael was surrounded by a magical shield, he snarled, "You don't want to tangle with the Order, mage."
"I'm not a mage," Michael answered. He flicked a switch on the side of his belt -- there was a slight change in the pitch of the humming that surrounded him. Energy built up around his hands, and he curled one into a fist, slamming it into the man's side. As the redhead flew across the room and into the wall behind the bar, he finished, "I'm a scientist."
Michael grabbed the brunet by the wrist and pulled him to his feet. He smiled even wider,
"The name is Michael J--"
"That's great!" The other man cut him off and made a grab for the crossbow he'd dropped earlier. "Thanks for your help!" He loaded an explosive bolt and fired it at the group mobbing his companion.
The Order members didn't flinch, but the normal peasants who'd sided with them scattered from the resulting flame. The older man pulled his arms down and laughed with relief. "Knew you'd save me, Ted!"
"Shut up and move, Daniel! This is your fault!"
****
Ted interrupted Michael's storytelling with a laugh. "He was always doing that..." He reached out and took hold of Michael's hand. "Dan had an eye for the ladies and a penchant for getting into trouble..."
"...and the two impulses often combined, leaving poor old Ted to clean up the mess." Michael finished.
Ted shook his head. "Dan was a good man. And you can't deny that you enjoyed the adventures he was always dragging us into."
Michael rolled his eyes at that, his smile turning into a wry smirk. "I can and I will. Besides..." he squeezed Ted's hand gently, "the quiet life with you has plenty of appeal all its own."
"Not so quiet, with as many explosions as your experiments seem to generate..."
"Says the man who leveled the workshop twice in as many months!"
Timothy really didn't know what to make of these two. He ducked his head and just concentrated on eating for a while, trying to ignore the giggles and the good-natured bickering and... everything he wasn't used to. Part of him wanted to go back to the life he understood, even if it was at the cost of wearing dresses and pretending to be someone he wasn't.
He mentally beat that part back.
Never again. No matter how strange the world was outside Castle Drake -- and no matter how strange the world might find him -- Tim wasn't going back to being Princess Therese. He wasn't going to live a lie anymore.
Author: D.L. SchizoAuthoress
Rating: PG
Spoilers: none
Warnings: fantasy AU, crossdressing (unwilling participant)
Word Count: 1943 (!)
Summary: Storytime with Ted and Michael.
Word of the Day: bonny - adjective:
1. Pleasing to the eye.
2. British Dialect. A. (Of people) Healthy, sweet, and lively. B. (Of places) Placid; tranquil. C. Pleasing; agreeable; good.
Sanctuary
The travelers spent the night in the main room of the cottage. Timothy in particular was shocked at how small and cramped the place was -- the whole building would probably have fit comfortably his suite in Castle Drake. But the room was warm and their hosts had provided plenty of blankets for them.
"Wouldn't it make more sense to put us up in the barn?" Stephanie mused as she arranged the thickest of blankets into three separate sleeping pads.
Cass shook her head. "That's not a barn, I don't think."
"Looks just like the two and a half dozen barns we passed before entering Rhu's Woods to me..." Timothy muttered. But he arched his neck and glanced out the small window facing the larger structure just to be certain.
"It might have been," the squire replied, pulling her legs close and crossing her ankles underneath herself, "at one point. But there aren't any animals here."
"I wonder what they use it for, then..."
Steph rolled her eyes. One trait that seemed common to whatever persona that Timothy took on -- curiosity. It had gotten them into trouble several times at Castle Drake, and she worried a little that it would get them into trouble here. The travelers didn't know much about the two men who agreed to shelter them for the night, and since they didn't (couldn't) know Tim's true identity, they wouldn't be as lenient as the castle staff or King Jack. "They'll let us know if they want us to know. It's not our place to ask, and certainly not now."
Cass smiled. "Certainly not." Steph wrinkled her nose at the hint of laughter she heard in Cass's tone, and stuck out her tongue.
"It's late. You made us ride hard today, Miss Cassandra."
"Only so you'll appreciate your nice, soft beds tonight."
"You had better appreciate these beds!" Steph huffed, putting her hands on her hips. The stern effect was ruined by the fact that she couldn't keep the smile off her face. "After I slaved on them!"
"You always say that, Stephanie," Timothy pointed out, punctuating the statement with a yawn.
"Mm-hm," Cass agreed, smirking slightly, "You do seem to slave an awful lot for a lady-in-waiting..."
"Oh..." Steph tossed a pillow at Cass, who snagged it out of the air with little effort and a widened smirk. "hush and go to bed, you two!"
****
Breakfast was a casual affair, though it was served earlier than Timothy was used to. Not that he minded being wakened by the smell of fresh coffee being brewed and the sound of soft conversation. Steph's familiar laugh was part of the sounds he heard.
He sat up, rubbing his face and making quiet, mumbly noises as he tried to convince himself to open his eyes. It was on the tip of his tongue to call for one of his ladies-in-waiting to draw a morning bath... and then he remembered exactly where he was. His eyes flew open, to find the sunlight just beginning to stream in through the high, small windows of the room. The other sleeping areas were vacated -- one a tangled mess and the other neatly re-folded. Tim scrambled out of the blankets and headed for the people sounds, wondering if he was the last one to rise and feeling awful for it.
"Look who's up!" Steph greeted him as he stumbled into the kitchen. Cass raised her mug of coffee, eyebrow lifted in a silent question of 'do you want some?' Tim raked a hand through his hair -- still thrown off by how short it was now -- and shook his head.
"You must think me t-terribly rude," he spoke to their hosts, hating the slight stammer that nervousness lent to his voice. "I didn't mean to sleep in." And he shot Steph a look that silently censured her for not waking him.
"Don't even worry about it," said Theodore, the shorter of the two men, and the one with the darker hair. He gave the contents of the large cooking pot another stir, then gathered a pinch of salt between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand and sprinkled it in, followed by a generous splash of milk. "Michael has an experiment he's been trying to recreate... he always wakes me when he gets up to check on it, even though he tries not to. So I've gotten into the habit of keeping these hours, but neither of us expect our guests to..."
"Sir Wayne has us up and training right about now," Cass commented. Timothy tried to hide a pained expression at the name drop, but neither of the men seemed to react to it.
"Eh, when it comes to nobility, it depends on the..." Michael waved a hand in the air as if beckoning the word to him, as he tried to think of it, "on the type you're dealing with. Mages keep all hours, the more militant seem to like greeting the dawn, and the idle ones prefer the company of the later morning sun."
Timothy blushed at that, but before he could apologize, Steph crossed the room and put a cup of coffee in his hands.
"We had a long ride yesterday, Tim. Theodore and Michael understand that."
Michael watched that interaction and grinned. Once again, Timothy found himself surprised at just how... shiny... a smile could be. The man chuckled and said to Tim, "Ah, you're the type who needs looking after. Like Ted."
"I can take care of myself, you know," Theodore retorted, between dishing up bowls of oat porridge for everyone, his expression somewhere between fond and annoyed.
Michael raised an eyebrow at that. "Do I have to remind you of how we met?"
Steph glanced between the two men, then looked to her friends. Both Cass and Timothy had similarly confused expressions. Cass bit her lower lip, eyes sparkling, and accepted the bowl that Theodore passed to her with a nod.
Timothy looked conflicted, but he couldn't stand it when people kept things from him. He sat down at the table and asked, "How did you two meet, then?"
Michael laughed. "Ted here got into a fight with warriors from the Order of the Green Hand."
Tim felt his jaw drop. "Y-you... you what?"
"And you're still standing?!" Steph burst out.
Theodore flushed with embarrassment, and dropped his gaze back to the table. He fiddled with his spoon, and mumbled, "If you must know, it was my mentor, Dan... he ended up insulting a lady who was with them... the Order members took offense..."
"And the two of them decided to take on the whole pub," Michael finished with a grin.
Cass tilted her head curiously. "But the whole pub couldn't be Order..."
"Most people wouldn't go up against them," Steph spoke her thoughts aloud, "I certainly wouldn't... they're mages, and they're as good at weapons fighting as some of the best knights."
Michael flashed them his bright, pretty smile again. "Not that it mattered to Ted, when Dan was in danger. And, well... I had to admire that kind of loyalty."
****
Years ago, and almost half a world away...
Michael ducked a misaimed ice spell and kicked over a table to shield himself. As he crouched down, he slipped several mystical stones into the power chamber on his belt. A protective shield flickered to life around him, and he popped back up with a grin on his face.
It had taken him years of study and hard work to get a practical model, but the belt was a success. Any defensive spell was at his disposal, despite the fact that he had no mystical talent. And with a little creative application, those defensive spells could be used for a successful offense. Of course, when he'd created it, he'd had far more resources than now, and repeating his success wasn't likely in his current situation. But just the one served his purposes.
He strolled over to where the handsome brunet was being choked out by the redheaded Order member with the terrible haircut. The handsome man had caught his eye earlier in the evening and Michael hated to see him hurt, although without the excuse of the brawl going on, he probably wouldn't have approached.
"Excuse me," Michael said pleasantly, masking his worry at how the brunet's face was rapidly approaching a shade to match his blue eyes.
"Butt out, dandy," the redheaded man growled through gritted teeth.
"You are aware that it will be difficult to extract an apology from him if he can't breathe?"
The man's only response was to try elbowing Michael away. The cute one flailed some more when the pressure on his throat let up. Michael moved his hand to strengthen the shield and deflect the redhead's blow.
"Let him go, sir. You're overreacting to a minor insult."
Confused by the fact that Michael was still talking when he should have been knocked back and breathless, the redhead looked up. When he realized that Michael was surrounded by a magical shield, he snarled, "You don't want to tangle with the Order, mage."
"I'm not a mage," Michael answered. He flicked a switch on the side of his belt -- there was a slight change in the pitch of the humming that surrounded him. Energy built up around his hands, and he curled one into a fist, slamming it into the man's side. As the redhead flew across the room and into the wall behind the bar, he finished, "I'm a scientist."
Michael grabbed the brunet by the wrist and pulled him to his feet. He smiled even wider,
"The name is Michael J--"
"That's great!" The other man cut him off and made a grab for the crossbow he'd dropped earlier. "Thanks for your help!" He loaded an explosive bolt and fired it at the group mobbing his companion.
The Order members didn't flinch, but the normal peasants who'd sided with them scattered from the resulting flame. The older man pulled his arms down and laughed with relief. "Knew you'd save me, Ted!"
"Shut up and move, Daniel! This is your fault!"
****
Ted interrupted Michael's storytelling with a laugh. "He was always doing that..." He reached out and took hold of Michael's hand. "Dan had an eye for the ladies and a penchant for getting into trouble..."
"...and the two impulses often combined, leaving poor old Ted to clean up the mess." Michael finished.
Ted shook his head. "Dan was a good man. And you can't deny that you enjoyed the adventures he was always dragging us into."
Michael rolled his eyes at that, his smile turning into a wry smirk. "I can and I will. Besides..." he squeezed Ted's hand gently, "the quiet life with you has plenty of appeal all its own."
"Not so quiet, with as many explosions as your experiments seem to generate..."
"Says the man who leveled the workshop twice in as many months!"
Timothy really didn't know what to make of these two. He ducked his head and just concentrated on eating for a while, trying to ignore the giggles and the good-natured bickering and... everything he wasn't used to. Part of him wanted to go back to the life he understood, even if it was at the cost of wearing dresses and pretending to be someone he wasn't.
He mentally beat that part back.
Never again. No matter how strange the world was outside Castle Drake -- and no matter how strange the world might find him -- Tim wasn't going back to being Princess Therese. He wasn't going to live a lie anymore.