Prompt Ramblings - 6. Prompt 239 - First Line

"Just give me a minute, please."

Shawn looked around the dark room lit by amber fireflies in lanterns that glowed brighter than should be possible. The shimmering flicker cast shadows that danced in every corner making the walls and its contents look alive. He swore he could hear the lick and crackle of flame coming from the lanterns, he could feel the warmth but it did nothing to soothe the disquiet in his chest.

A large, high walled ceramic basin filled with steaming water sat in the middle of the room. Next to that sat a small bucket with soap, sponges and other items spilling out the top. He edged closer to the basin. How hot was the water, really? The steam rolled off the surface in heavy plumes.

A tapping on the floor broke his questions.

“Och, we haven’t got all night, laddie.”

Shawn turned and scrutinized the stout woman tapping her strong foot on the floor, arms crossed over her full bosom. A rounded kind face looked back at him with a stern impatience that showed the lines of an age that he couldn't begin to guess. Her long grey hair was braided and wound into a bun atop her head. The heavy woolen dress covering her neck to floor gave her a mix of grandma and handmaiden. Thick limbs and stunted proportions gave her the appearance of some kind of dwarf, but she stood the same height as Shawn. But Shawn was quickly realizing everything seemed bigger here and he was the smaller one.

She quickly stepped forward and grabbed a handful of the tunic draped over Shawn's body. Even quicker, she snatched it up and over his head leaving him stark naked. He tried desperately to keep a hold on it but he was still so weak and the stout woman seemed so strong. The tunic was the only thing he'd worn since he woke up here; he had no idea what had happened to his regular clothes or if they still existed.

“Give it back, lady!” he shouted. She balled up the tunic and tossed it aside even as Shawn tried to cover himself with his hands. A loud bass filled cackle erupted from her.

“Och, laddie. I'm na a lady, for sure,” she laughed. “Ye can call me Maertagh.”

Maertagh seemed completely amused while Shawn's skin flushed. His eyes flitted around looking for a way out.

“Oh, god. This is like being naked with your grandmother.” Shawn's voice shook as his hands shifted around trying to find the best method of maintaining his crumbling modesty.

“Och, child. I've had more cock in this lifetime than ye can imagine. You'll not be showing me anything new.”

Shawn blanched as Maertagh stepped forward suddenly causing him to scuttle backwards. He yelped when she caught him and lifted him off the ground like a toy doll. Or a toy poodle.

Before he knew it, Shawn was waist deep in the steaming water. Oh shit, it was hot! Shawn tried to scramble out of the basin, but those stubby fingers of hers were so fucking strong! With one hand she held him in the hot water while she reached for the bucket of extras.

“It's na that hot,” she grumbled. “I dinna know why yuir so bashful. Even if ye are small, yuir a fine looking lad. I can see why Rath saved ye.”

One handed, Maertagh dunked Shawn under the water, leaving him sputtering as he resurfaced. When she started scrubbing the soap into his chest he stilled instantly, hands raised out afraid to do anything with them. She lathered him roughly and ran a coarse cloth over him like she was scouring a pot. Shawn prayed she wouldn't pull out that scrub brush he saw in the bucket.

As if the whole process wasn't humiliating enough, her hand sank into the water and began washing his privates and up around his ass. The high pitched response he made was not very manly. If she wasn't so strong, he would have launched himself to the ceiling.

“Quiet now,” Maertagh scolded. “Ye've been lying in bed for nearly a week and Rath ordered me to care for ye. Ye should be thanking me, ye were a bit ripe, laddie.”

Once she was clearly satisfied with her work, Maertagh hoisted Shawn from the water and deposited him next to it. He stood there shivering, partially from the temperature drop and partially from being so effortlessly manhandled by the servant woman.

Shawn was a grown man. He was just under average height, but he was thick, solid and intimidated people. He didn't know what to make of being handled like a child or an object. His sense of order in the world was fleeting. But really now, what world was he actually in where an old woman tossed him around like a professional wrestler?

A thick towel wrapped itself around him as brisk movements licked the water from his skin. Shawn had always imagined being bathed by another person would be a sensual, intimate experience. A gentle exploration of another man that would be the precursor or after event of a night of passion. This was nothing of the sort. It wasn't cruel or punishing, it was simply executed like a chore to be done as quickly as possible. And it wasn't a man, no matter how powerful she was, he couldn't get past that fact.

A fresh linen tunic was quickly pulled over his head. “There ye go, laddie. All freshly scrubbed and dressed.”

“Is this another of Rath's shirts?” Shawn pulled his arms through and looked down as the hemline went past his knees. Like the other, he swam in the garment. The wide neckline risked falling over this shoulder at any moment.

“Aye. We'll be making something proper for ye to wear now that yuir getting better.” Maertagh walked over to the small round table along the wall. She opened a basket sitting on top and began rummaging inside. “C'mon, laddie. Have a seat and we'll see about feeding ye up.”

Shawn was once a marine. He'd seen combat and lived through it. But in this room he walked tentatively to the table like an uneasy child. He was so tired and weak and not just because he was recovering from his injuries. Carefully, he pulled himself onto a chair, the nightdress-like shirt tripping him slightly.

Maertagh pulled a small loaf of bread and a block of cheese and meat from the basket and set about cutting off thick slices from each with a angry looking kitchen blade. She hadn't even looked in his direction as she worked. Shawn couldn't help but study her.

The woman wasn't frightening per se, but since everything began Shawn had only been in Rath's presence. The giant man made him feel tiny in comparison, but he had been a constant as everything had turned upside down. Maertagh's strength and demeanor made him think of a harsh nanny that meant well, but had little gentle manner. However, considering what he's seen of this place so far, tenderness was a foreign element.

A simple, but huge sandwich dropped down in front of Shawn. He was going to have to squeeze it to take a proper bite it was so thick and who knew if he'd be able to finish it, it was so big. Given the rumble of his stomach, he was damn well going to try. The first bite was divine. It was hearty and basic and he needed it so much. The edginess he's been harboring began to subside.

“Aye, eat up, laddie. Ye need your strength.” Maertagh placed a cup full of sweet juice before Shawn. “Ye've eaten nothing but broth since ye arrived.”

Shawn took another large bite of his sandwich. “When I'm better, how am I getting home?”

Maertagh turned to Shawn, eyebrow raised in surprise with a touch of confusion. Somehow he felt he should already know the answer to that question.

“Och, laddie,” she said. “Ye are home.”