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Recently I was offered a fairly-new pillow-topped queen-sized bed set. The one I was sleeping on was even older (and also a hand-me-down), so I said yes. Only the person offering couldn’t take the old one to the dump, so as a stop gap measure, I had them stack the extra tall mattress on the bed I already had. Only then I could only get on the bed with a running start.

So we removed the frame, which can be stored in a much smaller space than a box spring or matress. Now it is as high as my hip but squishes quite a bit when weight is added, so I can get on it easily. We took the old box springs apart and threw it away in pieces. I liked the extra height, but I would roll into the center during the night and then have to wake up and scale the mountain to the edge of the bed so my husband would have enough space to turn over.

But when we got this bed, we also got a day bed for my daughter with springs, so she didn’t need the board anymore to keep from feeling the slates like in her old bed (also a hand me down. I never spend money on anything if I can make do with something free). So a few days ago I shoved that twin-sized piece of pressboard between the mattresses on my bed, and I do believe my problem is now solved.

I came up with this story on the first night in my “new” bed. I meant to write this fairytale style, but all the extra words kept forcing their way in so I gave up.


Title:
Too Many Mattresses
Status: Complete
Genre: m/m, fairytale-ish
Rating: PG 
Content: mud, a castle, ambition, a bath, secrets, mattresses, a wakeful night, breakfast
Length: about 2,100 words
Summary: A retelling of A True Princess


Rana Anala of Devadarshan trudged down a muddy lane. His clothes were soaked and dirty and at some point he’d lost the ribbon for his que so his hair hung in his face. He should never have let his maybe-cousin-to-be Prince Eckard take him to that masquerade in the middle of nowhere.

Sometime after midnight, the drunken revelers had knocked some of the coals out of the fireplace with their antics and the whole place had gone up. Anala could have waited for someone sober to arrive, but as the sky brightened, he’d spotted chimney smoke rising from nearby villages. The wizard costume that he’d been loaned hadn’t been meant to be worn outside. It was thin and the winds blew straight through it. So he sought a cozy house and warm food.

Except the villages had all been further away than Anala had imagined and once he arrived, his outlandish clothes barred all the doors to him. Or that could have been his accent, his dark skin, or his aristocratic bearing. The nobles in this country weren’t trusted by the locals. And maybe with reason if Eckard was a good example of one.

A castle rose above the plain. They would let him in. They had to. Anala was hungry and cold and needed a good long soak in a hot bath to get the sandy grit out from under his fingernails.

--

Bohdan tried not to roll his eyes as his mother chastised his father yet again for losing King Reinhart’s favor. They might have been lapping up the luxury of the court, not exiled to a castle as far from the capital as they could get if he’d just this or if he hadn’t that. She hadn’t stopped complaining since they’d left the palace, but in Bohdan’s opinion – which he kept to himself – she was as much to blame as Bohdan’s father was.

And this castle, though small, was snug. They could winter here with no fear of freezing, which was the lot of the less fortunate in the drafty palace. Couldn’t they get through one meal without his mother’s complaints?

A servant came in and bowed. The only nice thing his mother had said about their exile was that the servants here knew their place: they kept to themselves and never offered advice. When Bohdan’s mother nodded the servant said an exotic guest has arrived claiming to be from Devadarshan.

Bohdan’s mother rose quickly to her feet. “Come with me.”

So Bohdan, his father, and his younger siblings followed her.

In the sitting room before the fire stood the most beautiful person Bohdan had ever seen. Her gown was ruined and her dark hair and skin were covered in mud, but her bright eyes flashed. She bowed in foreign way and spoke directly to Bohdan’s father with a heavy accent. “I am Rana Anala of Devadarshan. Please, may I rest and eat?”

Bohdan’s mother smiled. “We will do more than that. Please, let us run you a bath and after you are clean you will have food and the best of our accommodations.”

Rana Anala bowed again followed the servant out of the room.

But on his way by — he had to be male or Bohdan was blind — his big, dark eyes had twinkled in Bohdan’s direction.

“Mother, why were you being so nice?” asked the oldest of Bohdan’s sisters.

Bohdan’s mother gave a little smile. “In Devadarshan, Rana is the child of the king, which you would know if you had paid attention while we were at court. A party from Devadarshan were due to arrive just after we left. They have come to marry a daughter to one of King Reinhart’s sons.” Her eyes sparkled. “Anala must be one of those princesses. If she is, court life, here we come.”

Bohdan’s mother and sisters tittered about what they would wear when present to King Reinhart as the king — Raja — of Devadarshan newest relatives. “But,” Bohdan’s father asked, “how will we know she is a real princess?”

Bohdan’s mother grinned. “Leave it all to me.”

But Bohdan wasn’t sure he should.

--

Anala soaked in the heated pool. He hadn’t had such a luxurious bath since he left home. He had been offered girls to scrub his back, but he was not the kind of man to enjoy it. Now if they’d offered the oldest son…

And then that beautiful man walked in. “May I lend a hand?”

If only he’d come in sooner.

Anala held out his hand for a towel. The man wrapped him in it and then rubbed him dry. Anala could get used to this.

“I am Bohdan.” The man offered Anala a night shirt. “My mother thinks you are a woman.”

Anala dropped his towel before putting on the clothing and made sure to show off his male assets. “Why is that?”

Bohdan caress a lock of Anala’s hair. “Only women here wear their hair this long. Most men here wouldn’t be caught dead in anything that might be construed as a dress. Except religious men, who seem to favor them. And your name sounds very feminine to our ears.”

“I can’t help what my name sounds like to barbaric people.” And poor, as even the queen wore fewer jewels that the wives of Anala’s servants. “And I didn’t choose the clothing or I would be in thick embroidered silk kurta and shalwar. And my hair is not considered long for a man of my station. I’d say your women wear their hair too short.”

Bohdan smiled. He liked the light in Anala’s eyes and the fierceness of his response. “But mostly it is because we have never seen anyone as beautiful as you.”

Anala bowed his head and smiled. “Will you be joining me then tonight?”

Bohdan would find a way, whatever he had to do to.

--

Anala followed the lady of the house to a cozy bedroom with a roaring fire and too many mattresses on the tall bed. He was fed fruit and bread and meat, as much as he could eat and then a ladder was brought in. He was supposed to sleep on the top of all those mattresses?

These people were crazy.

But way up near the ceiling he’d be less likely to be disturbed and he’d had such a hard day and he needed sleep so badly.

He pulled up the covers and sunk far into the soft mattresses. He didn’t think he’d make it out without help, but he’d worry about that in the morning.

--

Bohdan stopped his mother on her way to bed. “So how does one find a true princess?”

His mother patted his arm. “Don’t you worry. We will know in the morning.”

He let her go. Someone was sure to tell him. His sisters would, but only for a price and they’d probably tell his mother they had spilled the secret. But maybe his littlest brother. He rarely spoke and was seldom seen. Bohdan went to his brother’s room and sat on his bed. “Brother mine, did you hear our mother’s secret?”

Bohdan’s brother climbed into Bohdan’s lap. He was such a cute little thing and too often ignored. “She said a pea. A pea under a stack of mattresses. If the girl cannot sleep she is a real princess. But if a small pea in the stack bugs her, then wouldn’t the lumpy mattresses themselves?”

Bohdan agreed as he carried his brother to his big warm bed and tucked him in. “You will be my eyes and ears. If someone comes, say I just stepped out.”

Bohdan’s brother smiled and his eyes slowly began to shut. Bohdan sat beside him and sang a lullaby until he was asleep, then he quietly walked down the hall to Anala’s room.

--

Anala was just having the best dream ever about Bohdan’s big, warm hands when he was woken up. His eyes closed again, but the mattress valley filled with the scent of a man. Anala forced his eyes open. Bohdan grinned. “You invited me.”

But he hadn’t expected Bohdan to actually come. Male lovers weren’t accepted here like they were at home. But maybe that’s why Bohdan had waited until the middle of the night. Anala welcomed Bohdan close. A quick romp would help him sleep.

--

Bohdan enjoyed Anala’s body. He enjoyed his touch and scent and taste. He enjoyed his laughter and gasps and moans. The only thing that might have made the evening the slightest bit better would have been being allowed to sleep in Anala’s arms.

But sleep was something Bohdan could not allow for either of them. Every time Anala began to doze, Bohdan woke him again with kisses and caresses. When dawn kissed the sky, Bohdan woke Anala one last time to put Bohdan’s mother’s second best nightgown back on him. Bohdan left the blankets on the floor.

Then he snuck back to his room and pulled the blankets back over his little brother before getting into bed. He closed his eyes on an exhausting, but pleasant night’s work.

--

Anala tried to keep his eyes open through breakfast, but they each weighed as much as an elephant. Bohdan looked chipper and talked happily with a small boy between glances at Anala.

The clothes didn’t help either. The dress was tight in all the wrong places. The people here, besides Bohdan, really did think him female.

Anala’s eyes closed on their own. He forced them open. He was a Rana. He would act the part.

The lady of the house put her hand on Anala’s. “You didn’t sleep well, dear?”

“I am sorry,” Anala bowed his head. “I was so very tired, but… something,” he pointedly didn’t look at Bohdan, “kept me awake all last night.”

The lady clapped as if no news could have made her happier.

This family was crazy. Everyone in this part of the world was.

“Now if you would just send a letter to King Reinhart…”Anala didn’t want to go back to his maybe-family-to-be. He wanted to go home. Except he’d miss another night with Bohdan when he was, hopefully, less tired.

“It is already written, my dear.” She stood up. “Bohdan, take her into the chapel. Then we will find her a more comfortable bed.”

That last sentence was music to his ears. All he wanted was to relax, preferably in Bohdan’s arms, and sleep.

--

Bohdan’s father pulled his mother aside and whispered, “What are you doing?”

“I am doing nothing. Your son is marrying her.”

“I thought you were writing King Reinhart.”

“I have.” She put her hand over her heart. Then she grinned. “But I don’t plan on sending it until Bohdan is safely married.”

Bohdan’s father sighed and patted Bohdan’s shoulder.

Bohdan’s mother crossed her arms and nodded to Bohdan. “He isn’t complaining.”

Bohdan wasn’t. In a few minutes Anala would be legally his. He could hardly wait.

--

Anala stretched out in Bohdan’s bed. “What was that?”

“That,” Bohdan kissed Anala’s neck, “was me making love to you.”

Anala push at him, but not enough to make him actually move. “Before that.”

Bohdan grinned. “We got married.”

Anala’s eyes shot open. “We got married? You and me?”

“Yes. How do you feel about it?”

“How do you feel about it?”

“As I worked all last night, so you would become my… spouse, I’m feeling quite proud of myself.”

“I’m not sure our marriage is legal.”

“Will that keep you out of my bed?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t mind.” Bohdan echoed the sentiment with his hands.

“You parents are bound to find out I’m not a woman.”

“Hopefully,” Bohdan kissed Anala’s chest, “we will be well on the way to your home before they find out.”

Anala imagined Bohdan in his bed surrounded by silk with jewels on his fingers, in his ears, and around his neck, whispering words of love in Anala’s own language. If Bohdan’s mother really had sent the letter, his trusted men should already be on the way to make that image a reality. “Is there anything you want to bring?”

“My brother, I think. If that’s allowed.”

“The cute little boy who held my hand? I can make him my heir, if you like.”

If Bohdan’s wordless response was any judge, he did like. And Anala liked making Bohdan happy. And he’d prove it. After he got a few more hours of sleep.

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