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Bullets in the Boudoir	By : Crimsonberry Category: +A through F > Fable Views: 2451 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Fable, nor any of the characters from it. I am not making money off of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Bullets in the Boudoir
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
Second chapter. Barry gets a bath. A bit of rambling on about exposition. Nothing too fun, yet.
But with this sort of story, I feel like I need to fill in some gaps lol.

Chapter Two
I was too busy thinking about how to run off without him drawing his gun for a second to notice how large the house was. Should I have expected anything less than a small castle? I suppose I should not have. That's just what it was. A good three stories high, a fresh coat of paint, it seemed.
The garden was modest, but he did not seem like one who liked to take midnight walks in the terrace. I looked behind me as a slight breeze picked up. A lake, crystal clear sat in front of the house, white gazebo planted right in the middle of it. I noticed a bit of the other houses in the distance, looked wealthy as well, but not nearly as much as this.
" It is rather lovely, isn't it? I like to keep the riff raff out of my area. That's why it looks so nice here," he says, coming up behind me to look at where I was gazing.
I stayed quiet, but he knew I was rather impressed. I tried hard not to show it. I would probably be eating with the dogs, anyway. Not that all this beauty would do me much good. I frowned at that thought.
" Come along, come along. I have an appointment in a bit with someone important. I won't have you spoil it by having to drag you inside, away from the bliss of nature," he says, swatting me softly on the side of the arm to urge me to follow.
I tried to hide my dumbfounded expression and obeyed, remembering to slouch as he elegantly walked next to me. A couple richly dressed ladies walked by and eyed us through the gate. Apparently it was a rather big deal, him coming home with a new slave. I found that utterly amusing, since he looked like he could go through them like a starving wolf at a royal feast.
He tipped his hat to them politely, obviously adding some strange, annoying flair to it as he bowed slightly. I instead smirked and gave them both a dirty gesture, to which they gasped and looked at Reaver in fright. He sighed, not looking as angry as I hoped, but I felt his gun insistently prodding into my back. I glared at him for ruining my fun and started walking again.
" Excuse him, ladies! He is right off the ships! He will be the perfect gentleman in no time!" he calls to them.
They nod and smile at him like blushing brides.
" Do not worry about us, dear Reaver. We know he is in the best of hands. Of course, we would be lying if we told you we would not take his place," said the more pretty of the two.
They were still dressed like whores with hair as large as Reaver's estate.
Ugh.
" Ladies, you flatter me. I trust I will see you lovely ladies at my small soiree later this week?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.
The both nod and giggle in excitement. I think he even gives them a sly wink before he started poking me, seemingly with the intent to break my back. He maintained his composure until we had gone through the large, polished wooden door. As quick as the doors were closed, I was on the floor, my face aching. Was that the warm feeling of blood forming in my mouth. It took me a second to get my bearings. I felt like I had been hit by a speeding cart.
I slowed down my breathing, not caring for the blood dripping out of my lips. He had taken his coat off, his gun in a holster at his side. His cane was against one of the plush leather chairs. I glared back up at him. He gave me a very cold stare. He didn't need to frown to portray the amount of anger he was giving me. It was all in his eyes and stature. I tried not to shiver again, defiantly showing him that he did not scare me.
" One of the very first rules I will ever make you obey, is to not insult my guests or future guests. I do enjoy entertaining them. They also entertain me. My reputation is not to be extinguished by the likes of someone like you. Every time you persecute any of my guests, you will find I persecute you. It will hurt more and more every time. If you must, at least find your anger at the harsh callings of life directed at me, instead. That, I can handle. They are fragile little things that break under a careless hand. Much like you could. Are we clear? Or do I need to demonstrate again?" he asked, looming over me, more terrifying than any slaver could ever be.
I did not nod right away. He pulled me up from the floor with ease by my ragged shirt, my dirty, cold feet lifting off the floor to be eye to eye with him. He was bloody strong for a man of his frame. I found my wide eyes looking into his, trying not to betray my fear. But I swallowed and nodded, exchanging my pride for what seemed like my life. He closes his eyes and nods, setting me down gently onto the tile floor.
" Being this close to you, I notice how ridiculously filthy the slavers allow you to become. You are to be bathed...thoroughly before you will be seen in my presence again," he says, taking off the gloves he used to touch me.
He yells to another servant, a rather handsome man with fair hair, who comes over with a bubbling glass of some sort of alcohol. Reaver takes the refreshment from him with a tired sigh.
" I would see him cleaned up. No skimping on the toes and fingernails. We will need to adjust that matted hair while we are at it. Give it a trim for me. Thank you, Hemming," he says, not even glancing back at me as he walks briskly into a side room and shuts the door.
" Come along, then," Hemming says, raising his brows.
I decide that it wouldn't be too bad getting a bath. The best I usually got was being drenched in cold water with a large water pump. He refused to touch me, but made sure that I was not wondering as we walked the opposite way of Reaver's study. The elaborately decorated walls and plush seats were not the only things of vanity. Large paintings of Reaver himself adorned the walls. Some of them made my face contort in maybe humor or disgust. I noticed a small sound behind me.
One of the servants was cleaning up my dirty footprints as I walked, scrubbing furiously with damp cloth to make the floor shine again. I sighed, knowing I was mucking up the place. Hemming led me through numerous doors, seeming to make sure I wasn't stepping on carpet. I frowned at all the indulgent items around the mansion as we went. Eventually we came to the last door, and he pushed it open, inside was the largest bath I had ever seen.
It had to be able to fit at least ten people in there easily. That made me feel a little uneasy, still wondering what I was supposed to do here.
" Strip those horrid clothes off, please. Put them in this basket here. We will burn them, later," Hemming remarked, holding the container out.
I raised a brow.
" I can't just bathe on my own?" I asked, glaring at him.
He shook his head.
" I doubt you know how to clean yourself thoroughly or correctly. I was sent with you to make sure it was done right. Now take those clothes off, or I will have to interrupt Reaver. He doesn't like being interrupted," he said, insistently holding the basket out again.
I rolled my eyes and took my tattered shirt off, as well as my worn trousers. They were at my knees, anyway. I stood there in my undergarments after throwing them in. He merely stood there still.
" What?" I asked.
" Your small clothes are also filthy," he said, chuckling.
I stared back, scoffing and taking them off, blushing. I wasn't very happy with this predicament, so far. He nodded and went to set the basket aside. I stood there, arms crossed, feeling exposed to this stranger. He didn't seem to pay me much mind.
" Before you go anywhere near that bath, you need to shower off. Over there," he says, directing me over to a nozzle on the wall.
I walk over, grateful for the distraction, and try to find whatever might turn it on. He sighs, knowing I don't know how to operate it, and turns a small lever. The water comes rushing out, cold.
" Wait for a bit, it should be warmer soon. I put the fire on," he says, watching me.
I try to ignore his gaze and step into the water. It was a bit cold at first, but eventually warmed up like he promised. I had forgotten what it was like to be clean. The dirt and dust was running off of me to the floor. Hemming was keeping rather far away for the moment, going into the corner. I ignored him and closed my eyes, letting the water wash the filth away.
I could get used to this.
Well, as long as I wasn't being whored out.
Hemming came over, interrupting the nice flow of water. I glared over at him. He smiled.
" You are clean enough to go into the bath now," he says, pushing me with a bare hand towards it.
I tried to act like I didn't care, but part of me was aching to try that water. I slowly went down the steps, and almost sighed at the feeling of the warm water. It smelled a bit of spices. I wasn't surprised. I ignored it and dunked my head underwater. It was rather heavenly. I almost didn't want to come back up. I lost my breath and my head emerged from the water, and I waded over to the small sitting step.
It was then that I noticed that Hemming was stepping into the bath as well, cloth, brush, and bottles in hand. He had a towel on, thankfully.
" What are you doing? Can't I just do this myself? Here, I can use that stuff," I said.
He rolled his eyes and came closer. It wasn't like I wasn't used to being in the presence of naked men. But I wasn't used to such clean, handsome men being much too close to me. I flushed in annoyance as he came over and smiled, pouring some sort of liquid soap or oil over my head. I clutched my eyes shut, trying to reach out to push him away.
" Oh, don't be like that. You'll be whipped if you're not clean enough. I've done this many times, just relax," he says, placing his hands on my head and lathering the soap.
I tried to protest, but eventually figured out he was quite skilled with his hands. Nobody had ever washed my hair before. It was quite possibly one of the most amazing things that I could think I experienced. I couldn't help but let my head fall back to let him gain better access to it. I could feel the dirt being unmatted from my hair, the sweet smell filling the air.
He gently patted my head, pushing me under the water to soak out the soap. I obliged, letting the dirt float away. My hair had never felt like this. I was actually...clean. He then poured some oil onto my head and massaged that in as well.
" We're leaving that in while we get the rest of you," he says, pushing a washing cloth to my back and scrubbing with soap.
As I got over the awkwardness of my nude body, I found I was enjoying myself. He was obviously good at what he did. This got me thinking about what I was doing here again.
" Can I ask you a question?" I said, and he nodded behind me.
" You may," he answers, rather intent on his work of getting me clean.
" Is this...a brothel?" I ask, not sure how he might respond.
I tried to keep the nervousness out of my voice. He starts to laugh, turning me around to wash my chest, which felt good enough to make me flush. I kept my eyes averted, trying to focus on something else.
" It's not, but it may as well be. Reaver is very...interesting in that way. He has parties, takes many lovers. It is not uncommon in this house," Hemming says, sliding the cloth over my arms.
I think about it for a moment, grimacing.
" What will I do here?" I asked, trying to figure out this man, and why he laughed so much at my questions.
He smiled.
" That is for Reaver to decide. I believe he wanted to make you a bit of a protege. He seems to have a fondness for you," he says, sighing a little bit in disappointment.
I nod, not sure what on earth Reaver was really about.
Fancy parties?
Large mansion?
Obvious social dominance?
What was he exactly?
I decided that I would have to find out. After this nice bath, of course.
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Bullets in the Boudoir