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~Bedded	By : keithcompany Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Gulliver's Travels Views: 3077 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on Gullivers Travels by Jonathan Swift. Any resemblance to person(s) living or dead is purely coincidental.

Chapter List
- 1-Bedded
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-4
- 1
- 2
More disclaimer: Do not repost this story beyond the limits of the Fair Use standards of Copyright Law (quotes, examples, ‘you gotta read this’ excerpts, the usual). the author is not making any kind of profit from this fanfic.

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Bedded
I was wed today. It wasn't very exciting. It felt like something that had happened to someone else, a figure in a play or something.
I don't know anything about the local gods, I'm a member of the kingdom's religion only by executive fiat, I didn't understand a word of the ceremony. I spoke my cues when the priest gave me a slight nod we'd rehearsed.
So now I stood on the banquet table, leaned on my glass of wine and gazed at my distant wife in wonder.
I hate weddings. Really, I always have. They're kinda like funerals, in my mind. Not that being married is like death. But did you ever compare the two ceremonies? Neither one is really intended for the guest of honor. They're just set pieces for the organizer to focus everything on.
Funerals are the survivors' last chance to show off how much they loved, respected or feared the dead guy. To speak about what she meant to me, to us, to her surviving family. And to define her absence in what we lost.
Back in my world, wherever that had gotten to, the point of a traditional wedding was about the parents, these days. They had their last chance to try to make things perfect, ostensibly for the kids.
But it was really a measure of their ability to provide. The size of the cake, the quality of the champagne, the expense of the gifts, all reflected on the hosts, not the victims.
For proof, I ask you to look at the anniversary gifts. They track a couple's growth in prosperity. The first year is paper, it's 25 years before you're giving each other silver. If the wedding was about the couples, it'd be decorated within an apprentice's budget. Paper hearts and garlands of wild flowers. Something borrowed, something borrowed, something else borrowed. Maybe new shoes, but they'd be serviceable, useful for more than the occasion.
Here, in this kingdom, it's more about the political benefits of joining houses. Lords and ladies decided pairings and negotiated who got what and which throne was to eventually be inherited.
I was here as a chess piece, a Monopoly token. Ever since I washed up on the gravel beach beneath the castle, and carried up to the throne by a fisherman, I've been pretty much a commodity.
The royals were childless and politics prevented them from selecting an heir among the various houses. I was foreign, and unique, and untapped by any of the other teams. So they adopted me.
Then they arranged for me to marry the daughter of the most resourceful of the dukes. I'm not sure what he offered, I wasn't involved in the dowry. I wasn't involved in any of this.
My advancement to Prince and then to Betrothed took place while I was still learning the language.
When they got around to updating me on my status, as son and upcoming groom, they had to explain all of it to me in positive present simple form because I couldn't begin to conjugate verbs. I'm still not good at it, though I can follow when other people speak.
"Wait, you say to me I am son you have? And wife I am have, also?"
"Bride, yes, you have a fiancé!" Queen Akkel smiled. She likes weddings and feared she'd never get to prosecute one.
I quivered in fear. "I am make the not great… um…husband. She is disappoint on…that night." I'm about a twelfth of the King's height. Never mind sex, if she rolled over me in the honeymoon bed…
"You'll be fine," King Qurizzpa growled. "We have spoken." He was that sort of a king, big on oral law, and convinced that if he could issue the order with accurate phrasing, his minions could accomplish it.
The wedding was some time in the future, at that point. I had had time to get to know 'ma and pa' and to become comfortable with the Kingdom.
Now the ceremony was past and we were somewhere between the entrée and dessert of the wedding banquet.
I was drinking a bit more than usual, but they had warned me of the traditional 'bedding' of the lucky couple. The staff were assembling a bed at one side of the banquet hall. Privacy screens were standing to one side.
Quriz had said that traditionally, political marriages didn't pay off until the first child was born. Then it finally became real and the promised lands or services were exchanged.
So tradition ensured that the first child was born as soon as was socially possible.
There was no such burden tonight. It was realized that though I was legally a Man and a subject, there might be some problems with having me impregnate a woman. So that part of the wedding charter was expressly withdrawn.
Still. Tradition demanded that I spent my first night with my new bride in our new bed in close proximity to a bunch of rowdy drunks who hopefully were more impressed with dwarf tumblers and juggling girls. Akkel promised a lot of entertainment to draw their attention away from the conjugal bed.
Right now I was at one end of the banquet table. My bride sat at the other. She'd removed some of the veils of her wedding costume. At least five of them were gone.
I was now fairly confident she was a brunette. And pretty sure she had a nose. She didn't bump into walls, so I could deduce eyes. Her hands had been clean when I wrestled the wedding bracelet into place.
She smelled pretty.
Other than that…. I shrugged and grabbed at my drinking hawser. The block and tackle creaked and I managed to dip my wooden mug in my glass of wine.
Someone blew a hunting horn. God, these people were noisy. Gods, I should say, I guess. At the sound of the blast, everyone raised their glass and toasted us. "The BEDDING!" they shouted.
The ranking male guests swarmed to the end of the table where Mrs. The Prince was. I saw her yanked into a crowd and then clothes started to fly.
It's supposed to be a compliment to me, how torn her dress gets. It indicates excitement among the guests, showing that she's attractive and they want to see her well-prepared for the consummation.
I didn't think it sounded all that complimentary when they described it, but then The King started to brag about their wedding night. I gathered that her smallclothes had been found in three pieces in some cases, her stockings disappeared. She gave a wry smile and I stopped protesting.
I had other problems. Because the women of the castle were descending on me.
I didn't have much in the way of clothing and only one or two women could reach me at one time. But every one of them wanted to see me naked.
I was picked up by my new sister-in-law and stripped bare in three giant tugs. I hadn't bothered to try to resist. She looked me over, eyes bright with interest, then handed me over to one of her attendant ladies.
There were lots of women at the reception. I was handed from one to another, poked and prodded, kissed, caressed and squeezed.
Then there was a moment of freefall and a magnificent flop into a down pillow. I lay there for a moment, afraid to move.
It hurt to breathe and I feared that I had been permanently bruised by their scrutiny.
"Are you well, husband?" I looked up. My wife was already in the bed. I rolled over and tried to push the hump of the pillow down to see her.
She was curled up under the covers. Tightly under the covers. The sheets were pulled up to her chin and twisted around her neck.
I guessed the guys had gotten her completely naked, too. So everyone but me had seen her already.
I was right about the brunette hair. And the eyes. Big and brown, they were alight with a life I'd seldom seen aimed in my direction.
Her expression was an alloy, part shame from being delivered naked, and part anger… And maybe part anticipation?
"Hi," I said. "I am Earl." I was saved from farce by the fact that though the giants do have Earls, their pronunciation is vastly different. I can just imagine the comedy routine of a prince that's an earl marrying a woman who'd become The Duchess of Earl… I'd be hearing the song in my head for the next hundred years.
"I know," she said. "I'm Ematrice."
"Nice name," I said.
"It's nearly bigger than you are," she pointed out. She also showed a small smile. I really liked her face when she smiled. But she didn't show teeth. Either she wasn't that complimented or she had a habit of hiding her teeth.
I looked around. The bed had a canopy, curtains that that came all the way down to the bed. They were shut and I heard the shuffle as the privacy screens were placed.
Music started and there were muffled cheers.
"I think we now alone," I said. "And you on my pillow."
Ema looked surprised, then a little angry. "Does it truly make a difference to you which-"
"I mean," I said, "maid hide a nightshirt for me under pillow. One for you under this one."
The pillow bucked as her hand probed under me. Something shifted and I held on tight. She drew a long, simple shift out. Then she smiled widely and ducked under the covers.
While she dressed, I slid to the mattress and groped for my shirt. We were both covered next time our eyes met. "Thank you," she said. The blankets were still up to her neck but not held so tightly.
"Thank YOU," I said. One of her eyebrows rose. "You is much pretty you relax," I said.
She asked why I had broken tradition. I held up a hand in their 'wait one' gesture. Also under the pillow was a note from Akkel.
Written giant was still way beyond me, but I'd been there when she dictated it. It lauded my intellect while bemoaning my language skills. She hoped my bride would wait while I tried to force ideas through my vocabulary like a sailor pushing rope through a keyhole.
Then I tried to say I wanted her dressed for her comfort. For her sake. That I'd have fought the tradition if I had had the slightest chance to lessen her embarrassment.
"You don't like naked women?" she asked. "Is there…a man?"
"No," I said calmly.
"I just don't know why you didn't want to see me naked," she said softly. "If I'm so beautiful."
"Oh, I do," I said. "But is you decision, you offer to making." She quirked her lips for a second, thinking that over. "And," I finished, "to be honest, I am hope for a glimpse when you put the shift on."
She laughed at that. Then she sobered. "Being naked wasn't the worst. The hands…that was the worst."
"Sorry," I said. "You are should not put up with the dignitaries."
"Indignities?" she suggested. I shrugged. We'd had some brash guests after the wine started flowing. She nodded, then stared at me.
"What?" I asked. "What I do?"
"My brother went through the same thing with his wedding," she said. "And he insisted the ordeal was worse for the man. That it always is. And every man I've met agrees with him."
I shrugged again. "Bad for me. Good for me. Either. Bad for you is being bad for you."
"But I saw you," she said. "You're actually BRUISED."
"Bad for you bad for you," I insisted. "And I am wish to stop it. For you sake."
"You write the worst poetry," she said. Then her hand scooped me up off the mattress and lifted me to her lips. She planted a relatively chaste kiss on my chest. "But I think I could learn to like it."
"Whee!" I said.
We spent the rest of the night listening to the music and slapstick and toasts. And talking and laughing. Lots of laughing.
Ema tends to have a wicked sense of humor. We started talking about other things we should have had maids leave in the official Wedding Bedding.
Kazoos or other noisemakers. I wished they had balloons. Pop one of those and let the guests try to figure out what was going on.
She suggested a glass of red wine. "Thirst?" I asked. She meant to stain the sheet, simulating the loss of her virginity. "The maids will talk, and soon the whole of the kingdom will be trying to figure out how you accomplished that."
"I have a history of to butt my head against walls," I told her. That ripped a whole laugh out of her, just at the moment one of the acts stopped singing and before the next started.
She realized everyone could hear her, winked down at me and ended the laugh with: "Oh! Oh, that feels good!"
Then she pulled the blankets up over both of us and we snuggled down in the mattress.
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~Bedded