"Bath Time"
by Mayetra & Beryll
~One Year Later~
Fahima bounded barefoot into the chamber she shared with Pet. Torches in wall sconces cast a warm glow about the room, lighting her way. She carefully threaded her way through two wooden armies of toy soldiers in the middle of a rather large battle. The room had once been stark and bare, as befitted a soldier, but since her arrival had become rather lived in. There were plates of discarded food littering various surfaces including the floor. Pet’s desk was covered with maps, papers, a large empty cookie jar, a wooden box containing Fahima’s sea shell collection, and a piece of driftwood that Fahima swore was shaped just like Uncle Pax’s head.
A large table against the far wall was covered with arrows in various stages of repair and construction. Weapons of all shapes and sized littered the room, hanging and leaning against the walls. A coil of rope was thrown haphazardly over a peg that had a dress hanging from it – a gift from Fahima’s uncle Anthe that she had never worn. In one corner was a bucket of seawater that had very briefly contained a fish Fahima had caught and brought home as a pet. Unfortunately, one of her cats had other ideas and ate it for supper. The only remains were the tail, which was slowly rotting next to the bucket.
Clothing, shoes, boots, and bits of armor littered the floor like small dunes of sand. The small table next to her side of the bed was covered with bits of leather, a few coins left over from her pocket money, a broken knife that needed repair and a small leather pouch containing the baby tooth she had lost two weeks earlier. Threading her way through the clutter, she reached the large bed. Crawling up on her side, she frowned at the mound of clothing on the other side of the bed. She must have accidentally buried Pet earlier when she was trying to find something to wear that didn’t smell like a dog that had been dead for three days. With a sigh, she began to toss the clothes over her shoulder, adding to the growing pile on the floor.
Halfway through her excavation she came across Baby curled up on one of Pet’s shirts. She lifted him and tossed him gently to the end of the bed. Baby was a large, old, cantankerous tomcat who growled softly at being roused from his catnap before settling back down. If anyone else had dared to treat him in such a disrespectful manner, he’d have shown his displeasure with a few well-placed swipes of his claws.
Fahima didn’t even bat an eyelash at the old tom’s protests as she continued to dig Pet out from under the clothing. Finally, she tossed the last shirt to the floor and sat back. Reaching into her pocket, she produced a honey cake. Nibbling on it, she bounced a bit on the bed trying to rouse Pet. It was still early but she was bored.
Scowling when that had no effect, she pulled a feather from her pillow and began to flick his ear lightly with it. With infinite patience, she swept the feather down his cheek before beginning to torture the tip of his nose. After a few more flicks, she grew bored with this approach and tossed the feather aside. Thinking for a moment, she disregarded a few ideas before sticking her grubby finger in her mouth and laving it with spit, making a face at the unpleasant taste. She reached over with every intention of sticking it in Pet’s ear and giving it a little wiggle.
Before she had a chance, Pet’s hand whipped up and grabbed her gently by the wrist.
“Morning, Luv.”
Fahima giggled and pulled her hand away. “Morning, lazybones.” She settled back against the headboard and pulled a second honey cake from her tunic pocket. Picking a few pieces of lint from it, she began to devour it.
“Your soldiers are sorely lacking in their training, Pet,” she reported around half a mouthful of cake.
Pet stretched lazily like a cat as he asked, “How long did it take you to lose them?”
Fahima swallowed noisily. “Not very long, perhaps ten short marks on a time candle.”
One of Pet’ favorite training missions was to assign a group of soldiers to guard her. It was her job to try and lose them using any trick she could think of. This time the soldiers had been particularly green and hadn’t taken the assignment seriously. She had eluded them with frightening ease.
“Oh my, I foresee another flogging in the immediate future.” Pet rolled toward her and sniffed. “Where have you been since?”
Fahima finished the last of her second cake and began to lick her fingers clean. “The stables. Why?”
Pet grinned at her. “I thought so, you smell like Asmial.”
Fahima shot him a look of mock offense but didn’t comment.
Pet ignored her and continued, “I have a long walk on my schedule tonight checking the battlements. Do you want to come with me?”
Fahima sighed and put her finger to her chin as if deep in thought. “Well… I was planning to make a run into Uncle Pax’s house tonight but I suppose I could squeeze some time in for you.”
Before Fahima could react, Pet pounced on her and began to tickle her sides. Fahima squealed with laughter and tried to twist away but his weight was too great. She was extremely ticklish, a weakness that Pet exploited every chance he got.
“You bet you will,” Pet said with a laugh as he continued his unmerciful onslaught. “What would I do without my warrior queen to advise me?”
Between gasps and shrieks of laughter, Fahima said, “The city would fall to our enemies!”
“Exactly,” Pet announced as he shifted with supernatural speed, grasped her foot and gave it the same treatment as her side.
Fahima twisted on the bed, clawing at the coverlet trying to free herself. “You had better stop or I will tell Gesu that you’ve decided to take the holy vows!”
Pet threw back his head and roared with laughter before dumping her out of the bed. “You wouldn’t!” He rolled gracefully out of bed too and began to dress in his armor.
Fahima grinned fiendishly up at him from where she had landed on a pile of clothes covering the stone floor. “Yes I would! I’d tell him that you are looking forward to a life of poverty, celibacy and good works! And that you are so sincere in your newfound devotion that you wish to shave your head and take a vow of silence!” She added the last bit with relish.
“Yeah…” He asked somewhat distractedly as he looked around the chaos littering the room. “Have you seen my left boot?”
Fahima caught sight of it and crawled under the bed. She emerged on the other side, covered in balls of fluffy dust and tossed it at him.
“Thanks, Luv.” He fished around for a moment before finding his sword belt. “One of these centuries we will need to clean all this stuff out and… burn it!”
Fahima shrugged. Cleaning their chamber didn’t sound like much fun, though the burning part had some appeal. “The cook says I'm starting to stink up the place. Says she's going talk to you about making me take a bath. I don't have to, do I?” She haphazardly brushed the dust balls off her tunic, causing a cloud of dust to puff into the air around her. She sneezed once and decided she had done enough.
Pet eyed her. “I guess I could throw you into the bay when your stink starts to wake me up.”
Fahima grinned at him as she finished putting on her own armor. “You and what army?”
She barely blinked before he had scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
“Bath time, young lady!” he announced as he strode out of the room.
Fahima knew by the fact he had called her ‘young lady’ that he was serious and she had better come up with a good plan to worm her way out of it. She screamed, “No Papa! Don’t! I love you!” Resorting to calling him ‘Papa’, a title she only gave him when she wanted something or when she wanted to remind him of how much she did love him.
But Pet didn’t seem to be in the mood to listen. He simply patted her rump as they left the fortress and said, “I’m sure you will enjoy a swim, Luv.”
He entered the harbor and strode down the long dock. “Symeon taught you how to swim, didn't he?”
Forgetting that lying to Pet was pointless at best, Fahima wailed, “No Papa, he didn’t! I was too scared of the monsters in the water!”
She heard Pet snicker at her comment as she tried frantically to find a piece of his armor to hold on to.
“I sure you’ll learn surprisingly quick. Ready?” he asked as they reached the end of the dock.
Fahima thought fast, trying to find a way to stall. “Papa, I'm wearing my leather armor. It's a sin to get it wet! It will shrink!”
She could feel him pause and give her words some thought. Seizing on this advantage, she pressed on. “A good soldier always cares for their armor, Papa. And a good commander always makes sure that the soldiers under him are well equipped. And you are a good commander, Papa!”
“I’ll just have to buy you some new armor in that case,” Pet said with a laugh. Without any warning, he tossed her nto the water.
Fahima’s scream was cut off as she hit the warm water. Sputtering once, she gulped a lungful of air and allowed herself to sink into the darkness. Swimming easily, she made her way under the dock before coming up quietly for air. She waited for Pet to get worried and jump in after her. Would serve him right for tossing her in!
His voice filled her mind. “Bath, Luv or we will do this repeatedly.”
Fahima scowled, held her breath and began to think, “Sinking… Can’t swim… Too heavy… Going to drown!”
Laughter filled her mind and she could see his feet dangling over the edge of the dock where he was sitting. “I so believe you!”
Fahima switched to a different approach. Filling her mind with images of her adventures in the market earlier, she began to swim quietly toward shore. She was about half way when she looked over her shoulder to see if her distraction was working. To her chagrin, he was watching her with a fond look on his face. Feeling bold, she thought, “I’m going to make a run for it, Pet. Feeling lucky?”
“What? And miss out on shopping for new armor?” he thought back to her.
Fahima hadn’t thought about that in her zeal to avoid doing anything that actually resembled bathing. She immediately swam back over to where he was sitting on the dock. “Tonight?”
He grinned down at her. “If you get clean, my little fish. I saw these fancy arm and leg guards with African symbols on them. They should be about your size.”
Fahima weighed the benefits of the new guards with the distaste of bathing. The thought of new armor won out and with a sigh, she sunk back beneath the waves. Using her hands, she scrubbed furiously at her face and hair. When she finally came up for air, most of the dust and mud had been washed free. She dunked under a second time and repeated the procedure. Finally, she broke the surface of the water and asked, “Clean enough?”
A huge grin split Pet’s lips, “Well look at that, there is a little girl inside that dirt cake whose been sleeping in my bed.”
Fahima floated lazily on her back and scowled at him. “I’d rather be a boy. “
Pet reached down a hand to help her up. “You are the best of both, Luv.”
Fahima toyed momentarily with the idea of trying to pull him into the water with her but knew that she didn’t have the leverage and quickly discarded the idea. She grasped his hand so he could haul her from the water. As soon as her feet touched the dock and he released her, she wrapped both arms about his waist and hugged him. “I’d still rather be a boy. They can pee standing up and write their names in the dirt.”
“Maybe you just need to practice.” Pet laughed out loud as though suddenly struck by the mental image as he realized exactly what he had said. Picking her up, he tossed her into the air. “You are my love, that is for sure!”
Fahima squealed with delight. “Forever and ever?”
Pet tossed her again and then catching her, hugged her tightly. “Forever and ever, Luv!” he promised fiercely.
Fahima kissed his cheek and whispered, “I love you, Papa.” This time she didn’t use ‘Papa’ as a way to manipulate him but with all the love the word inspired. She could hardly remember what life was like before coming to stay with Pet. Her days as a slave seemed like nothing more than a bad dream, chased away by the love of the man holding her.
Pet raked his fingers through her hair, detangling it and putting it into some semblance of order. “Shopping, Luv?”
Fahima nodded. “Yes and then we must inspect those lazy soldiers of ours up on the battlements!”
Pet grinned at her. “Yep, we have to kick their butts into shape!”
She nodded gravely at him. “Because they need it.”
Pet looked down, “Maybe we should get me some new boots as well.”
Fahima considered the worn boots and pondered a moment. “Probably, those are looking very sad.”
Pet wiggled his toe making a visible dent in the leather. “Yeah, not much longer and I’ll be able to poke my toe through.”
Fahima gave him a very serious look that seemed somewhat comical on her youthful face. “Yes. You definitely need new boots. A soldier should always keep their equipment in good repair.”
Pet smiled fondly at her. “Let’s go then, Luv.”
He strode off toward the city with her perched in her favorite spot – the crock of his arm.
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