Disclaimer: See Chapter One. Ysolde:
Author's Note: Thank you to you all who have read and reviewed. Please keep this coming.
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Muses Behaving Badly
Chapter Nine: Torture
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I'd let Tristan torture Methos. I'm sure that somewhere my conscience was burning in the fires of Hades. Then again, maybe not. Ya' know, didn't know that Tristan was so…creative. May have to use that in a future story.
It hadn't helped that Galahad and Gawain had run a commentary of Tristan's techniques just like it was a rugby match. I now knew more about torture than anyone has a reason to. And that Tristan had apparently been watching the History Channel's specials about torture. Bors had taken to shouting out suggestions and Lancelot had decided that comforting me was the order of the day.
Comfort Lancelot-style is, well, intense. It requires a lot of running away.
That had taken up the rest of the afternoon, but Galahad had given me the highlights of Tristan's torture-episode.
Apparently Methos would be keeping a low profile from now.
And was never allowed to tie me to the bed again.
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The house was quiet and the muses were nowhere to be found. The computer had booted up, my earphones firmly in place so that if anyone was in the house all they would hear is my frantic typing. I had been struck by inspiration and I had to get this onto the hard drive before the idea escaped. It was a PWP, a oneshot, and decidedly on the lusty side and I didn't need to try to explain to any of the knights why I was doing what I was doing. Then again, maybe I could blame Tristan.
After all, it had been Tristan who participated in an orgy.
Hence the oneshot set premovie.
Arthur was gonna kill me--then again, maybe not. The man did tend to complain that he was treated as a monk before Gueneviere. Well, this story certainly painted a different picture.
Yup, a nice Roman/Briton/Sarmatian orgy.
Helped along by the fact that I was listening to the Rome and Gladiator soundtracks as I typed.
Finally done, I saved and stretched. My screensaver began to run and I chuckled as some of the fanart I'd worked on popped up.
Oh, yeah, I was going to hell.
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"No, Cerdic, that's not going to happen," I advised, eyes closed as I laid on the blanket in the backyard. I was taking a break from rewriting that horrendous manuscript with some well-deserved sunbathing. Skin cancer be damned, I wanted to have a tan.
The Saxon growled. Damned if he wasn't near as good as Tristan at the growling. That made me crack my eye open. Yup, he was glowering. And glaring at the quiet Tristan, who had come out with Cerdic to speak reason to me.
Hah. Reason. I scoff at your reality and replace it with my own.
"Cerdic, you're blocking my sun."
Cerdic dropped to the blanket beside me, looking out of place with his heavy clothes and furs. "You speak of him as if he is some kind of god. Always half-whispered."
I knew that my mouth had dropped open a bit. Lancelot I expect to quote the movie--not Cerdic. I shut my mouth and narrowed my eyes. "Um, Cerdic, that's because he is a god." I closed my eyes again. "And I'm not writing a story where the Scafia take over the world. Deal with it."
Mumbling told me that Cerdic wasn't pleased with that notion. Answering mumbling from Tristan seemed to share his opinion.
"Oh, and boys?"
"Yes, authoress," they growled.
I cracked open my eye again. "No torture."
Cerdic swept those blue eyes over me, assessing the fact that I was wearing almost nothing by Saxon standards. "Why?"
I frowned. "Why what?"
"Why not torture you?" Tristan asked, crouching at the end of the blanket while Cerdic stretched out beside me, that broad, muscled body relaxed but ready to strike.
I gulped. "Um, because I scream like a girl?"
Tristan grinned.
Cerdic chuckled.
That was not a comforting sound.
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"WHAT IS THIS!" shrieked Arthur, gaping at the printout that Gawain had handed him.
I looked up from the dinner I was cooking, smiling. "Ah, so you're reading it. Like?"
Arthur had turned an interesting shade of fuchsia. "Like? No, Bridget, I do not like! You've turned me into a whore."
I set down that spoon that had been stirring the stew and shook my head. "No, Arthur, I've turned you into a boy-toy. A powerful, sexy boy-toy, but a boy-toy, not a whore. You had sex with…" I paused while mentally counting his partners in that story, "three women. And you were good." I shrugged, turning back to dinner. "You're the one who keeps complaining that we writers cast you as a monk before you met Gueneviere."
Arthur's mouth was opening and closing like a fish as he tried to respond.
"When did you write this?" asked Bors, eyes scanning his copy of the story.
"Last night," I replied, setting the lid back on the pot. "I got inspired."
Gawain had leafed through page eleven before he looked up. "And who in the name of the gods of our fathers inspired you to write this?"
"Hello," offered Cyrnic, strolling into the kitchen and hopping up onto the counter. "Ah, so you read it. She didn't do half-bad," he offered, looking at me as I preened under his attention.
"You?" squeaked Galahad.
Cyrnic nodded and sampled the stew from the cooking spoon. "Good but needs salt," he advised to me before turning his attention to the youngest knight. "Aye. Me. In return for her starting on the Saxon Sex Gods story. A worthy trade, I believe," he finished.
TBC...
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To My Wonderful Reviewers
Ysolde: Interesting translation, though if Tristan is trying to scare me, he's gonna have to work harder. As to choosing between torturing you or Death, I've got Death tied to the apple tree and waiting for Tristan's best efforts. Have at him, Tristan. I'll sacrifice a muse over a friend and reviewer anyday. Have fun with the row and here's hoping you are still enjoying.
Cleopatra32003: Believe it or not, but I completely spaced on the apple part of the tree when I was writing. Guess that means that my muses are taking action in the writing of this story. So glad you are enjoying.
Arden Skysender: Yes, muses can be rather difficult when they don't get the attention they feel that they deserve. Mine have a nasty habit of popping in while at work and taking calls from cursing customers. Makes it hard to show empathy when I'm trying not to laugh at a storyline. So glad that you're enjoying since this one is kind of just a little bit of freaky fluff.
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