Maiden by Decree
Chapter Five
 By Maggie Finson
 
A Small Gathering and Some Revelations

or, I May be Tipsy, but I’m NOT Stupid

 

Ilene and Katrina were waiting for Deirdre in the chambers assigned to the new lady with pleased smiles on their faces. Deirdre ignored those for a while as she — another jolt, but a description of gender that the youth would have to get used to even in thinking about — herself, stared in near awe at their surroundings.

The room they were in was huge, almost cavernous in comparison to the hut Derek had called home for most of his young life. Oil lamps (No torches allowed above ground in the palace itself Deirdre found out later) candelabras, and a massive chandelier gave the place a warm glow while providing enough light to actually read by even in the middle of the night.

“This is — is beautiful!” She breathed while observing the richly woven tapestries, paintings, elegant furnishings and statuary decorating the place. “I’m supposed to live here? Where do I sleep, I don’t see a bed here.”

“Silly girl.” Ilene smirked. “You don’t sleep here. This is your receiving room. You entertain guests in this room. Your bedchamber, robing rooms, and private bath are through there.”

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” Deirdre gave his sister (the one time boy was having no little difficulty with getting his head around the fact that he was now officially a she) a suspicious look.

“Not at all, my darling.” Garret answered with a grin. “I have it on quite good authority from my cousin, that these chambers are to be yours whenever you are at the palace, and will be held ready for your presence when you are elsewhere.”

“Your cousin.” Deirdre answered faintly while nodding. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t that be the Queen herself?”

“Yes.” Garret responded almost smugly. “Evaine is the daughter of my father’s oldest sister.”

“Derek, I mean Deirdre!” Ilene joined the conversation. “You have got to see your bedchamber!”

“Could I just get sick now and have done with it?” Deirdre questioned as her stomach lurched in response to the richness and femininity of the room she was already in.

“You’d ruin the carpet, dear child.” Katrina answered with a smirk. “It is also considered ill manners to throw up on the furniture, by the way.”

“Oh, that’s all right.” Deirdre answered distantly as she pointed to a large pot that held what looked like a small tree. “I’ll just fertilize that tree over there and no one will be the wiser.”

“Until the poor tree dies.” Another voice entered the conversation as Jessica entered the room wearing a grin that failed to appear lady-like at all. “Listen to the voice of experience here and make use of the chamber pot in your bedchambers. It won’t kill anything, and the servants will take care of getting rid of the mess.”

“You’re taking all the fun out of this.” Deirdre gave Jessica a dark look then widened her eyes and tilted her head in question. “Servants?”

“Of course.” Jessica shrugged. “The intended of my brother gets nothing but the best here, after all. You have a Major Domo, a ladies maid, maids to see to your own needs and those of your guests, and guards to protect you.”

“Major Domo?” Deirdre questioned weakly.

“Butler.” Ilene helpfully supplied. “A man to oversee the women who see to your comfort and formally greet any guests you may choose to entertain.”

“I know what a major domo is, thank you.” Deirdre favored her sister with a glower.

“Speaking of…” Ilene grinned. “Here he is.”

A very distinguished looking older man approached Deirdre and bowed deeply. Only a few strands of grey marred his immaculate chestnut hair as he bowed. “My lady, I am Aevestos, your major domo. Please forgive my absence when you arrived. I was going over a few things with your maids.”

“Aevestos.” Deirdre managed to give the man a nod. “Consider yourself forgiven. I didn’t even know I had a major domo until just before you arrived.”

“Not having one would be very improper.” The man responded with a little sigh. “I do regret that I was not present to greet you personally on your entrance. I assure you it will not happen again, M’lady.”

“That’s all right, Aevestos.” Deirdre answered. “Truthfully, I didn’t even know I was coming here until my betrothed dragged me in.”

“Very good, M’lady.” The man replied carefully, working manfully to suppress a fatalistic shrug and another sigh. “I will endeavor to serve you well from this point forward. May I get you and your companions refreshment?”

“What do you have?” Deirdre asked.

“You have wine, a selection of fresh fruits, the option of a full meal in as many courses as you desire though that will take some time to prepare if you wish that, and a very fine sherbet from the Lailiene mountains that has been specially packed in snow to keep it cold on the journey here.”

“Wine.” Deirdre answered dreamily then gave the man a direct look. “Do you have anything stronger?”

“Several rather fine brandies, M’lady.” He responded with obvious disapproval. “All you need do is command me and you will be provided.”

“Apricot brandy?” Deirdre questioned with a glint in her deep blue eyes. She recalled an occasion when Derek had sampled a bottle of that liquer then winced at the memory of how the boy she used to be wanted to die the next morning. “Never mind. Just bring us a wine appropriate for the occasion, if you would.”

“Very good, M’lady.” Aevestos answered then silently left the room.

Wine was brought into the room, a light, straw colored beverage redolent of spring flowers, along with small sandwiches on silver tray circulated by several young ladies that had to be the maids assigned to see that her needs were met.

Deirdre gave Ilene and Jessica a conspirational look and whispered a question. “Share of bottle or two of that brandy with me later?”

* * * *

They were on the third bottle of brandy, and feeling as if the world held nothing they couldn’t accomplish when Harald made his promised appearance.

Aevestos knocked then entered the receiving room quietly. “M’lady, you have guest.”

“A guest?” Deirdre giggled then covered her mouth, embarrassed at having such a girlish sound emerge from her mouth. “Who would that be, Ave… Ave… Vestos?”

“Harald, the court mage.” That worthy answered rather primly while barely concealing his disapproval of the four inebriated ladies he was watching. “He bids me tell you that you were informed of this visit earlier.”

“Oh, of course.” Deirdre nodded, vaguely recalling that from the whirlwind of the past day then peered at Aevestos. “Isn’t a bit late for someone to visit a lady?”

“Not at all, M’lady.” The man returned imperturbably. “The court mage goes where he will, when he will. We lesser mortals simply do our best to accommodate his whims.”

“Is that so?” Deirdre sighed in a put upon manner. “Well, by all means, show the man in.”

“He requires a private audience, M’lady.”

“Private?” Deirdre looked at her drinking buddies, then around the room as she wrinkled her brow. “Where would we do that?”

“He suggests your robing room, M’lady.” The man responded with a roll of his eyes. “He awaits you there.”

“Fine.” Deirdre nodded then gave him a curious look. “And where, pray tell, exactly is my robing room?”

“If you’ll follow me, M’lady.” Aevestos let out a quiet sigh while thinking this particular assignment was going to be more than simply a bit interesting and moved towards the door leading to the apartment’s bedchamber. “I’ll take you there.”

* * * *

Following a brief pause when Deirdre gaped in disbelief at that room meant for sleeping, and especially at a bed larger than the small room she had used as Derek, the major domo delicately cleared his throat to attract his new charge’s attention and gestured to another door when her wandering gaze fell at least momentarily on him. “This way, M’lady.”

“Oh, right... Harald.” She nodded wisely, and followed him.

* * * *

“This shouldn’t be possible.” Harald tugged at his graying beard in frustration after his third attempt to cast the spell on his hostess.

“What?” Deirdre questioned, then hiccoughed. “Oops, sorry.”

“Here.” The man answered, offering a crystal vial containing a murky liquid. “Drink this.”

“Is it alcoholic?” The swaying lady questioned hopefully.

“Would you mind too much if I asked you to sit down?” Harald asked with a frown. “Then to drink all of the potion?”

“Why?” Deirdre questioned innocently as she fell rather ungracefully onto a nearby couch and gingerly accepted the vial then put it to her lips. “I don’t taste anything, Harald.”

“Umm, you might want to try taking the cork out, M’lady.”

“Oh.” Deirdre did so with a sheepish little grin. “Right.”

Harald watched as she tipped the contents of the vial into the light and gave it and him a suspicious look. He gestured for her to drink the stuff. “Go on, it won’t hurt you, and you’ll thank me for it in the morning.”

“Oh, all right.” She grumped, tilting the opened vial and pouring the contents down her throat. Moments later she blinked, shook her head and glared at the mage. “Do you have any idea of how long it took me to get drunk enough to stop worrying about my situation? All that effort gone for nothing.”

He actually returned her half way mournful expression with a thin smile. “Then I take it you’re sober again, M’lady?”

“I think so.” Deirdre let out a long sigh and moved her head experimentally. “Well, the room doesn’t dance around when I move my head now.”
“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” Harald nodded. “Simply put, I needed you sober to understand what I’m going to tell you right now. “You have my full attention, sir mage.”

“Good.” Harald seated himself and shook his head. “First, it is unseemly for a lady of quality to be drinking like a dockside stevedore on payday night.”

“Who ever accused me of being a lady?” She shrugged then sighed. “At least before today, anyway. And what quality? I’m about as refined as a raw bale of cotton arriving at the mill.”

“A fact that hasn’t escaped my notice.” Harald chuckled . “But that isn’t the major point I mean to discuss with you here. When I examined you during the apprenticeship trials I told you there was no capacity for magic in you. Evidently, I was wrong.”

“What?” Deirdre raised her eyebrows. “Just what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said, M’lady.” The mage answered with a rueful grimace. “I’ve tried the same spell in different variations on you three times, and each time it has had no effect on you at all.”

“What spell?” Deirdre questioned quietly, with a frightened glint in her ice blue eyes.

“Merely a working to make you more comfortable with your present predicament, dear.” Harald assured the newly made lady with a sigh. “Something to help you accept your new role without all the fuss and bother you seem determined to inflict upon everyone near you.”

“Well it didn’t work.” Deirdre agreed. “I’m still bothered, and am about to start fussing about things again if you don’t get to the real point of this.”

“You appear to be a magical null.” The mage answered then shook his head. “Which should be impossible, no one is immune to magic. But I couldn’t get a simple and largely benign spell to work on you, and I am not accustomed to failure in my workings.”

“Immune to magic.” Deirdre idly pushed a loose strand of hair off a slim shoulder and nodded. “That could be useful.”

“At times, yes.” Harald replied then shook his head again. “But it could also be quite a handicap for you, one with serious repercussions under some circumstances. As when you might require a healing, or a simple charm for protection against mundane nuisances. If a healer or mage is unable to use magic on you an injury could take a long time to heal, or even become fatal under some circumstances.”

“Oh. I see what you mean.” Pursing her lips thoughtfully, the boy-girl nodded soberly. “That would be a problem wouldn’t it?”

“To say the least, M’lady.” The mage answered then went on. “But I don’t believe you are a magical null. What I think here is that you have a natural shield of some sort that protects you from tampering by magic. One of the more powerful ones I’ve ever run across.”

“If that is true, I am still unaware of this shield, so what would the difference be in my case?”

“If it is a shield, you should be able to let it down when needed. With practice at any rate.”

“Practice.” Deirdre echoed with a frown. “What kind of practice?”

“I need for you to undress.” Harald answered. “Completely, even that padding you are wearing to fake a feminine form right now.”

“All right, but why?” Deirdre questioned as she began to get her clothing off. “Can't you just get me undressed with your magic?”

Harald gave her long look, sighed, and rolled his eyes. “No, I won't waste magic doing something you are quite able to accomplish without it. Now get on with it, m'lady, I think something you are wearing may be helping whatever is interfering with my magics, and to be sure I need to have you disrobe completely in my presence so I can find which thing is doing that.”

“All right, a little help here, please?” Deirdre asked after a third try at undoing the laces at the back of her dress accompanied by more than a few unladylike curses. “I can’t quite reach this myself.”

“Then please turn around, my Lady.” Harald answered without expression. “I don’t believe my reaching around you from the front would be considered seemly, even under the present circumstances.”

“Oh. Right.” Deirdre nodded with a blush while her brain brought forth an image of her being hugged by the old man. She turned to present the recalcitrant laces to him without complaint. “There you are sir.”

Grumbling something under his breath that sounded like “And this one claims she isn’t a woman!” The mage undid the laces at Deirdre’s back then stepped away.

“Ah, here we go then.” The newest lady of the realm nodded in satisfaction as her gown slithered to the floor, quickly followed by numerous pieces of feminine finery never meant to be seen by males not intimate with the lady wearing them, and finally, the padded corset hit the floor with a thump. “Now that feels good!”

Harald gave the denuded lady a long, careful look then nodded and moved his hands while muttering words in no known language. Looking up once that was done, the mage sighed in frustration and shook his head. “Still didn’t work, damn it.”

“What?” Deirdre questioned, glorying in the lack of constraints on ‘her’ body for the first time in many hours.

“As I told you I had thought something you were wearing might have been spelled, to enhance your feminine appearance and presence and was blocking any other spell due to similarity.”

“What are you talking about?” Deirdre, not at all looking like a Deirdre at the moment questioned.

“Similar magics often block each other.” The mage answered with a penetrating look at Deirdre’s body. “That isn’t the case just now. So tell me, m’lady, have you always appeared so feminine, so soft, so lovely?”

“Feminine, soft, LOVELY?!!” Deirdre gave the mage an aghast look. “Me?!! All right.” The feminine boy, very feminine boy, admitted. “For as long as I recall, people have taken me for a girl no matter what I did to disabuse them of the notion. I know I inherited my mother’s face and bone structure, but I was never a girl, regardless of that.”

“You hadn’t reached puberty.” Harald answered quietly.

“Puberty?” Deirdre questioned with an appalled expression. “I never had that happen no matter how much I looked for it. I just never started growing hair on my face, body, or the muscle a man should have.”

“Oh, I think you’re experiencing puberty now, m’lady.” Harald stroked his short beard and shook his head before asking. “How long have you had such large nipples, and those bumps under them?”

Deirdre glanced down at his chest, then gasped and took another -- long -- look. “Not until Katrina had me pose in that gown for proper length. And just what are those bumps on my chest?”

“The beginnings of womanly breasts, m’lady.” Harald answered distractedly before he turned his full attention back to his hostess. “It would seem that your own body is making the changes that will make you appear proper in your gowns without all that padding. Tell me, is that padding uncomfortable, and how is it that way?”

“It chafes my chest, mostly.” Deirdre answered slowly, still staring at the enlarged nipples and slight rises behind them on ‘her’ chest.

“Hmm.” The man nodded with a serious look on his wrinkled face. “Interesting.”

“Interesting?” Deirdre shot back as one of her hands surreptitiously went to her chest to give one swollen pectoral a quick scratch. “What does that mean?”

“You seem to be entering puberty.” The man answered with a shrug. “But as a female.”

“How could that be?” Deirdre sounded a bit frantic as the thought penetrated her mind, along with the implications that held. “I’m NOT female!”

“Tell your body that.” Harald dryly responded then shrugged. “You have been proclaimed to be a woman in effect with His Majesty’s writ, so becoming female shouldn’t be such a stretch of imagination for you.”

“Look.” Deirdre grimaced. “Being declared a woman for political purposes is NOT the same as being female. Surely you can understand the difference there.”

“Again I say to tell your body that.” Harald returned the grimace. “I can’t explain it, but your physical form does seem to be working to conform with your legal gender.”

“I think.” Deirdre faintly replied. “I’ll deal with that later if it’s all the same to you. Now, about this magic thing with me?”

“Oh, that’s simple enough.” Harald told her with a straight face. “You seem to have a natural shield that blocks any kind of magic aimed at you.”

“A shield that can’t be broken?” Deirdre questioned as one of her hands idly scratched at her chest.

“Exactly, m’lady.”

“Then.” Deirdre drew in a breath, glanced down at her swollen chest, ran a hand over rounding hips and thinning waist then shouted. “WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? I was born a boy and raised that way. Why?!!”

“Adjusting to circumstances?” Harald offered then winced at the glare he received. “I’m a mage m’lady, not a physician. How could I hope to answer a question that magic had nothing to do with?”

“How can this NOT be magic?!!” Deirdre almost shouted while gesturing at her body that now appeared to be working towards a female form instead of the male it had been for years.

“Calm down, m’lady.” Harald winced and made a gentle, placating gesture then settled back to endure the diatribe that he was sure would follow.

“Calm down, he says.” Deirdre muttered, plopping down on a nearby couch with a heavy, put upon sigh.

“Nothing will be gained by screaming loudly enough to wake the dead in their dungeon tombs, you know.” The mage answered almost kindly. “I truly don’t know what is causing your body to change, Deirdre. I do know that it is not magic, at least not any kind I am familiar with at all, and believe me in a long and sometimes questionable career I have run across more kinds of magic than even most mages dream of.”

“You’re a lot of help.” Deirdre grumped.

“Actually, I am, dear.” Harald answered with a smile. “I have at least ascertained that it most likely isn’t magic doing this to you. I do think that we should take a physician, and possibly a priest into our confidence on this, just for their opinions on the matter. But you are undeniably developing some fetchingly feminine physical attributes, that is clear enough already. Either it is something non-magical, or you are somehow doing this to yourself.”

“Doing this to myself?” Deirdre shook her head in disbelief while continuing to scratch lightly at her chest. “I most certainly am NOT doing this to myself. Why would I ever even wish for this to happen even in my present circumstances? I liked being a boy, have no true desire to be a girl, and am definitely unprepared to become a lady no matter what His Majesty’s proclamation and my own presently available choices in clothing might say.”

“Would you please stop doing that, m’lady?” Harald asked almost plaintively as Deirdre continued scratching at her swollen pectorals and enlarged nipples.

“They itch!”

“It is very — umm — distracting.” The mage offered then questioned. “Are any other parts of your body starting to itch or feel strange?”

“Every part of my body is beginning to feel strange.” Deirdre answered grumpily. “But now that you mention it, yes. My hips and bottom are itching too.”

Harald held back a small wince as the young lady transferred her scratching to the recently mentioned parts of her anatomy.
“I thought it was just all the padding making me uncomfortable.” She supplied while vigorously applying fingernails to her bottom.

“That is most unladylike, my dear.” The mage told her then sighed as she gave him an unmistakable ‘too bad and don’t try stopping me’ look.

“I am NO lady.” Deirdre answered with a blissful expression as one hand stole back to swollen pecs and started scratching again.

“So you insist on telling everyone within range of your voice.” Harald agreed with a shake of his head. “I can provide an ointment that should help with the itching, if you like.”

“I would be extremely grateful if you could do that.” Deirdre replied.

“A moment if you will.” The man reached into his robes, muttered something in a language Deirdre had never heard, the produced a crystal flask with an ornate stopper. Handing it to her he said. “There you go. I’ll let you apply it to the uncomfortable areas if you don’t mind.”

“I’d insist if you hadn’t suggested it.” Deirdre answered as she unstopped the flask, poured some of its contents into one small hand and liberally spread it over the areas she’d been scratching. “Ahh, that is sooo much better. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, m’lady.” The mage responded with a small smile then turned serious again. “Now back to where we were, if you don’t mind?”

“Puberty.” Deirdre sighed. “Female puberty? Me?”

“So it would appear from all the evidence I’ve seen so far.”

“Damn.” Deirdre closed those ice blue eyes that were far too lovely to grace a man’s face and shook her head. “Now to try and figure out just why this is happening, I guess.”

“That would be a fine start, but if I may make a suggestion, little lady?” The mage asked.

“You’re going to whether I allow it or not, so go ahead and get it over with.” Deirdre said in a small voice.

“For now at least, why don’t you at least attempt to accept what is happening to you physically as a sign that you have made the right choices for yourself and others so far?” Holding up a hand to forestall the obvious protest his companion was starting, he went on. “Please let me finish.”

“Go on.” Deirdre nodded and in a quite eloquent gesture used one hand to close her mouth.

“It appears that the physical changes are going to occur no matter what you do, or how you may protest.” He continued. “That is regrettable for you, but unavoidable. Not to mention being rather fortunate for the present. I will tell you now that it is imperative that Garret marry soon, and you are the one he has set his heart on having. All any of us who know the truth about you ask is that you give it a chance. You might find that you actually like being a duke’s heir's and very fine knight’s lady if you did that.”

“But I can’t be his wife!” Deirdre sighed. “I do like him, a lot, and will even admit to liking all the attention he shows me, but I won’t ever be able to give him an heir to the Duchy he is going to inherit.”

“A not insurmountable difficulty, dear.” Harald answered slowly. “Far less difficult than you might think, or than the task you presently have ahead of you.”

Deirdre winced internally as she actually had admitted to enjoying Garret’s attentions, which meant things the newly proclaimed lady didn’t really feel comfortable thinking about just then. Things about the boy she had been for fifteen years, and the girl he seemed to be becoming despite any protest he might make regarding that last fact. “I don’t believe I admitted that last thing. But what do you mean giving Garret an heir isn’t insurmountable? I do not possess the necessary physical requirements for making a child with him. Which is what first drew him to me in the first place, I might add. He didn’t wish for a woman to be his lady, he wanted me.”

“Precisely so, m’lady.” Harald agreed. “But Garret is no boy lover, not in truth. Though it is true that he has cultivated that type of appearance, he labors under a prophecy that more or less impelled him to search out feminine boys.”

“A prophecy?” Deirdre let out a short laugh of disbelief. “Now I’m part of a prophecy, too?”

“So it would seem.” Harald nodded with a sigh in response to her short laugh. “It claims that Garret will find the love of his life, and his future Duchess not to mention the mother of his children, by searching among the feminine boys rather than among the eligible and nubile maidens of the kingdom. It predicts happiness and plenty if he finds that person, and untold disasters if he doesn’t, or is refused by the one, whoever that is. I believe that love in his life is you, m’lady, and if that is the case, then the transformation you are beginning now, physical, mental, emotional, and in status and station is an answer to that self-same prophecy.”

“Which means exactly what?” The feminine young male questioned nervously.

“Many things I’ve discovered in the past about prophecies come into this, m’lady.” Harald slowly replied. “It would seem that the one regarding yourself and Sir Garret is working to make certain that the best outcome it predicts is reached. That is a thing which would go a long way in explaining your seeming immunity to magic of any kind. A magic far more powerful, and ancient than I or any living mage might possess is working on you. Protecting you, and shaping you for your life to come.”

“Oh isn’t that a wonderful thought.” Deirdre grumped. “Now not only am I being herded into learning to be a proper lady despite my actual sex, I’m to be a pawn of some ancient magic. Does that just about cover the situation, sir mage?”

“Quite well, actually.” Harald agreed with a thin smile. “You are quite intelligent, dear child, and grasp things new to you with a fervor and determination to learn all you can that is really quite encouraging if you stop and think about that.”

“Do I have a choice?” Deirdre questioned tartly. “In any of this at all. Really?”

“Of course you have a choice, dear.” Harald responded quietly. “Choice is part of what this is all about. You have options open to you, and none will stop you taking any of those you might choose for yourself.”

“Meaning that I can accept all this, pretend to accept it and wait out the betrothal period then go back to some semblance of my old life, or simply walk away from the entire mess?” Deirdre questioned while giving the mage an unsettlingly direct stare that boded ill for anyone arousing the displeasure of this young person, whether she decided to become Garret’s lady in truth or not.

“Exactly so, m’lady.” He said softly. “The choices are yours to make. I only pray to the gods that you make the one which is right for you. Not for the kingdom, not for Garret, but for you. A wrong choice would leave you miserable for a long time to come, I fear. But I, nor anyone else, can make that choice for you. It is something you need to do yourself, and willingly in whatever the case may be.”

“You’ve left me with a lot to think about, you know.”

“Yes, I have, young lady.” Harald arose from his chair. “Along with some things for me to seriously consider as well. I’ll call one of your maids to assist you in getting ready for bed or to rejoin your guests. It is late, and an old man like me needs to get his sleep.”

Deirdre thoughtfully watched the door for some moments after the court mage and taken his leave. Lips pursed in a very feminine expression of deep thought that would have shocked the boy he had been, she reached for the padded garment that gave her the needed shape for her new clothing and status and got back into it before the summoned maid could arrive while quietly grumbling. “No sense in scandalizing the help any more than needed.”