Disclaimer: Fable and all related characters belong to Lionhead Studios.
It was the third time he saw her enter the Sanctuary that day. She was still in her usual practical ensemble, but something had changed. Jasper eyed her from head to toe as she inspected herself in the mirror.
Yes, something was definitely different. Her usually slender figure now seemed a bit fuller, her legs plump and her cheeks puffy.
She rushed into the dressing room and he followed after her, slightly concerned. After browsing for a while, she picked the chicken suit, much to her butler's dismay. "Are you certain that this outfit is a wise choice, my Queen? You have, after all, completed that ridiculous quest," he said, shuddering at the recollection of his mistress returning to the Sanctuary smelling like poultry and spitting feathers out of her mouth.
She seemed to pay no attention to him and went on to check her reflection again. "Not enough," she muttered.
After another visit to the dressing room, she returned to the main room with a full beard and the getup of a male dweller. Jasper wondered why she insisted on buying the men's version of each one of her outfits and fought to make no comment on her appearance.
He remained silent while she teleported out of the Sanctuary and let out a heavy sigh after she had disappeared.
When she returned to the Sanctuary in the early evening, she had obviously gained several pounds. Treading heavily, she headed for the changing screen and later emerged wearing nothing but her underwear. She looked in the mirror once again.
Jasper was quick to avert his eyes. He'd known and served her since the day she was born, but —even after all those years in her presence— he couldn't get used to her newly-developed habit of walking around in her underthings. "Does the temperature displease you, Madam? If only there were windows to ventilate the Sanctuary... Would you then you find it in your heart to put on some clothes?" he said, sounding more impertinent than he'd intended. Indeed, he had grown extremely worried about his young mistress' mental state, but was loath to show it.
She pouted, but humoured him by picking up her pyjamas and disappearing once again behind the wooden screen.
"No more adventuring today?" he asked. "The night is young. Surely you would rather go out and gun down hordes of unsightly creatures—maybe have a healthy snack while you're at it—, than spend the evening in the Sanctuary with your old butler," he continued as casually as he could.
Dressed in her white nightclothes, she looked at him and sighed. "I know you're worried, but... It's a demon door. It wants me to be unattractive."
"Impossible! It simply can't be done!" he praised. "I swear, those demon doors have gotten more absurd over the years," he murmured, a slow shake of the head conveying his disapproval.
She smiled, slightly flattered. "It's worth a try. I'll be heading to Bowerstone Market next. There's a pie vendor that I'm planning to visit," she said before vanishing in a beam of light.
It was about midnight when she came back, still in her pyjamas and considerably heavier. Her breath smelled strongly of alcohol and her clothes of vomit. Jasper tried his best to keep his nostrils from flaring in disgust, but failed.
"What have you done, my Lady?" he exclaimed as she stumbled forward and promptly collapsed on the floor of the Sanctuary.
"The bastards," slurred the now obese queen. "They all hate me!"
"Who does, madam?"
"All of Bowerstone! They hate me because I'm fat and ugly," she hissed and tears started forming in her eyes.
He grabbed her by the arms and helped her stand on her feet. "What happened?" he asked, letting her support her newly-acquired weight on his shoulders.
"I was in the Bowerstone Market district," she said between sniffles. "I had eaten half a dozen meat pies, but I was still not fat enough. So I went to the tavern and drank some beers and they seemed to do the trick. But when people noticed how fat I had become they started heckling me. Oh, the nasty things they said!" she finished with a loud sob and buried her face in his shirt.
The butler gulped down his embarrassment and started breathing through his nose in order to spare himself the awful stench of his inebriated mistress. He found himself lacking in size compared to the tall frame she had developed during her quest to overthrow her brother, but he managed to put an arm around her and pat her on the back. "There, there," he attempted, but his voice sounded false even to his own ears.
He cleared his throat and tried again: "You will find that your subjects are often fickle in their affections. In such cases the most effective method appears to be throwing gold at them. I'm sure that the current damage to your reputation will be amended once you've made another donation to the treasury."
"They bribed me to get out of their sight!" the intoxicated Queen whined, having barely registered her butler's advice. Jasper glanced at the gifts waiting on the shelves. Now that he knew what they were for, he decided to remove them from her sight as soon as he could. "I try so hard to save them... Disrespectful bastards! And I'm still not ugly enough for the demon door..." she continued mumbling, still clinging to Jasper's blue jacket.
"I'm sure they'll thank you in the end," he reassured her. "For now, let me make you some tea," he said, removing her from his embrace and holding her at a small distance—if he had to prop her up a moment longer he was afraid that his bursitis would not let him forget it. "You go ahead and take a bath, have a change of clothes. Then we can discuss the matter of the demon door. I think I might have an idea," he continued with a cunning smirk.
She nodded. "Thank you, Jasper," she said, a bit calmer now.
"You are most welcome, madam," he replied with a slight bow. "I must say, I am very proud to see you so dedicated to your cause. And very relieved at the prospect of your resuming the practice of rational thought and proper diet once you've deformed yourself to the door's approval."
Having partly come to her senses, she marveled at the sangfroid he displayed after such an uncharacteristic fit on her part. Humbled, like the child who had once broken an all-too-important piece of china and subsequently received a scolding from Jasper, she bowed her head and looked at her pudgy feet.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," she admitted.
Jasper gave her one of his rare honest smiles. "I see what you mean. The Sanctuary would be quite bare without this old sycophant."
A/N: I was a bit worried about writing a John Cleese character... I hope I didn't do too bad.(feedback is appreciated!)
The story is largely based on my own experience trying to open the Millfields Demon Door. What's up with the villagers hating you when you get fat? Talk about shallow...