Back to The Waterworks: Tramma’s Tales

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 1 AM – Fort Lucas]

> “Most especially let Josie see this,” Siaye added softly, her eyes
> flicking over to where Josie was giving the two children a hug,
> “whenever she’s feeling homesick. And *especially* when she is
> spending time with the two of you, please place this where she can see
> it, and help her understand that it means that we too are with her in
> spirit, even if not in physical form.”
>
> “We’ll do that,” Mithi promised, while Finfin echoed his solemn
> agreement.
>
> And soon afterwards, it was time for the travellers to depart.

At roughly the same time that a series of Dimension Folding Tunnels were
opening and closing, some hundreds of miles away (at least as such
concepts were even possible when dimensions were involved), away at Fort
Lucas a different journey was about to begin. The Abbot’s chief diplomat
and Fort Resolute’s Seneschal were standing outside the door to Bede
Haller’s Triton Windwalker Resthouse. The huge knight was chanting in
Old Norse, and Tramma was listening in rapt fascination.

The final words of Tregarth’s chant shifted back into the Common Tongue
as he concluded, “Maximus, I choose YOU!” These key words were
accompanied by a flash of Rainbow coloured light, and a heartbeat later
the huge white charger was standing before them. Max whickered softly.

Tregarth cheerfully translated. “Max is wishing us both a very good
morning.” Before Tramma could reply, the huge steed gently but firmly
nosed Tramma’s silver hair, sniffed, and gave a slightly different happy
whicker. “He is also observing,” the knight added with a chuckle, “that
he believes that we have already had a VERY nice morning.” To Tramma, he
asked, “May I give him an honest reply?”

The bard laughed. “Or I’ll tell him myself.” Both knight and steed
nodded, and Tramma happily continued. “We ABSOLUTELY did! *Many* times,
in fact.”

Tregarth chuckled as he felt an interrogative form in his mind. Tramma
of course, could not tap into the mental connection that the paladin and
his Divine Steed shared, nor could she speak Equine (though would have
been happy to learn, if given the opportunity). But she was adept at
reading *people*, and just perhaps some of that was helping her guess
that Max’s latest whicker had a slight questioning tone.

“He wants… details?” Tramma speculated. A huge nod of Maximus’ head
obviated any need for Tregarth to translate. “Well,” Tramma drawled,
“*I* certainly don’t mind, if your Rider does not object to me kissing
and telling.”

“Cavaliers can keep nothing from their mounts,” Tregarth replied fondly.
“Perhaps doubly so for Holy Knights and their chosen Divine Steeds. But
perhaps we can continue this conversation while travelling?”

“Probably a good idea,” Tramma agreed cheerfully. “Much as I’d enjoy
entertaining the fascinated crowd trying to pretend they’re not
listening, this *IS* something of an invitation-only performance.”

Some minutes later, the three were on the road leading from Fort Lucas
down to Castle Sibley. Or rather, Maximus was on the road, with Tregath
in his appointed place in the saddle, and Tramma between his arms as he
lightly held the reins. “Let me open by saying,” Tramma began as she
snuggled up contentedly against the huge knight, “that your Rider needs
to work on developing a more specific set of fantasies.”

Max nodded, while Tregarth chuckled, not at all upset at being called
out in this manner. “Can I help it,” the knight chuckled, “that a basic
fantasy of mine is to bring a certain lady friend of mine to towering
heights of passion?”

“You certainly succeeded *there*,” Tramma laughed, leaning back
contentedly in his arms. “Thank you for once again reminding me that
contrary to the ratio of my current partners, I’m *not* actually gay.
Not,” she added hastily, “that there’s anything wrong with that.”

She then blinked. She knew she hadn’t been imagining that Tregarth had
also echoed that age old line. But a simultaneous whicker from Maximus
suggested that the Divine Steed too was chiming in with his own version
of that affirmation.

Reaching up and back to lightly run a gentle hand on the huge knight’s
smooth cheek, she continued her tale. “So anyways, Max, we had to make
do with fulfilling some of *my* fantasies. Probably mostly fueled by me
seeing some of my galpals having fun with some real studs, but not being
able to do the same until quite recently. So you see, Max, we first
began by…”

And most of the journey to Castle Sibley was filled with tales that
added considerably to the winter morning’s temperature. And all
throughout, Maximus listened intently, and occasionally interjecting
some rather germane questions of his own. These, of course, had to be
translated by Tregarth, which was rather a challenge; Divine Steeds and
humans have rather different frames of references in the topic under
discussion, and the empathic communication channel Horse and Rider
shared were not really set up for this level of clinical precision. But
they somehow managed, and by the long tale’s end, Maximus indicated that
he was indeed now a Well Informed Divine Steed. And that he
wholeheartedly approved of *everything* that he’d heard, and hoped to be
able to hear more at some happy point in the future.

When the saga was at least complete, Tramma chuckled. “OK, fair’s fair,
after all. *Your* turn, Max. Did YOU have a good time last night?”

A most emphatic nod of the horse’s head gave her answer. Tregarth,
meanwhile, was on the receiving end of a whole series of empathic
suggestions hinting at specific geometries. All through the lens of
Tregarth’s OWN frame of reference, of course, which meant that the
knight was positive that there were some SERIOUS errors in translation.

“Slow down, old chap,” Tregarth laughed. To Tramma, he added, “Max *is*
willing to provide you with equally vivid details, as he most certainly
agrees with you that fair IS fair. But I fear my interpretive skills may
not be up to the task.”

Far from feeling shortchanged, however, Tramma merely chuckled. “Prolly
just as well,” she giggled. “I *know* that Divine Steeds aren’t
*ordinary* horses, but I guess I’m only turned on by folks with two
legs. Sorry, Max, but if is any consolation at all I have a deep
appreciation for you as both a friend and a truly fine and beautiful
exemplar of equine majesty and masculinity, and my paltry skills with a
curry comb are always yours for the asking.” A contented snort suggested
that the Steed was not in the slightest offended.

Tramma, however, was experiencing a flash of intuition. “And I bet you
don’t get the hots for Two Legs, either,” she speculated. “You just
wanted the details to make sure that your *Rider* was happy. A truly
noble concern we share, as it happens.”

Tregarth felt an empathic wave of admiration from his Steed, even as Max
slowly nodded the affirmative.

“Well,” the bard continued perkily, “for your *own* details, we can cut
to the *important* chase. Did you really, REALLY have fun?” A most
emphatic affirmative nod was her answer.

In a smaller voice, Tramma then asked, “And did you feel *emotionally*
close to your partner or partners?” The whicker that answered her
question was impossible for the bard to interpret. The somewhat
ambivalent empathic answer in Tregarth’s mind was also presenting a
challenge. The knight was trying to fit the impression into words when
Tramma surprised him by getting to the translation first.

“You really DO feel close to your partners at the time,” the bard
suggested, her voice for the moment lacking its usual sparkle. “But you
keep looking for that one special ‘love and cherish above all else’
Truelove, and haven’t found it yet. Right?”

A slow nod was Tramma’s answer.

“Wow,” the silver haired performer breathed, awe now in her voice. “I
*never* thought I’d have ANYTHING in common with a Holy Divine Steed.”

Leaning up and back to look at Tregarth, Tramma added softly, “That’s
me, all over again. I really, REALLY love the guys or gals I’m with,
present company most CERTAINLY included. But I’m also really in love
with the IDEA of being head over heels in love with someone enough that
I’d never want anyone else.” Sadly, she noted, “Hasn’t happened yet, but
I keep looking. But in the meantime, I’m a Tramp.” In a very soft voice,
she asked, “You don’t mind, do you? I at least TRY to be a good Tramp
and never hurt anyone.”

For an answer, Tregarth gently gave the bard a hug. “I will wish you the
best and promise to raise a horn to celebrate your good fortune if or
when you DO find such a lucky man. *Or* woman. But in the meantime, I
will remain delighted to share our time together whenever you are able.”

Not for the first, nor last time that morning, Tramma snuggled back
against the knight, revelling in the feel of his arms around her as he
gently pulled her against his strong (and massive) chest. “You can COUNT
on it, Big Guy,” she promised, and once again she heard what she was
certain was Max’s snort of approval.

Soon afterwards, they had ridden the last stretch of the road to the old
fortress that was now Castle Sibley, and Maximus’ hooves had thudded
over the drawbridge that was currently allowing free access to the
castle’s interior. Tramma had happily accepted Tregarth’s suggestion
that while Max would *enjoy* feeling her attempts with a currycomb, the
bard might want to hurry inside and see if her diplomatic services for
Abbot Kenobi might be needed.

Tramma was grateful for the suggestion. Abbot Kenobi WAS a dear, but his
diplomacy was sometimes a challenge that was beyond the great man.
Particularly in the morning before his first hit of bonbons and kyrene
coffee; Tramma well understood the compulsions of addiction. She was
just crossing by the marked “telepad” when the characteristic black and
white rings of Captain Finfinfin’s Dimension Fold Tunnel appeared in
midair. A moment later, hand in hand, both Finfin and Mithi stepped out
onto the courtyard.

“Fin!” Tramma exclaimed happily. “Mithi!” When the Tunnel rings faded
away, she darted forward to pull the wizards into a huge hug. She knew
very well that most methods of dimensional travel required one to wait
until the sparkling stopped to get physical.

“All people and stuff moved to where they’re supposed to be?” the bard
asked happily.

“They are,” Finfin confirmed. “Josie, Val, and Lomi, along with three
days of supplies, are all safely out at the Godcarvers.”

“Good,” Tramma enthused, and giggled at the curious expression on
Mithi’s face. “OK, now I’ll get to the GOOD stuff! Did the two of you,
and Josie…?”

“Yup!” the apprentice mage answered happily. “And her lovely family.”

“You *know* I’ll want ALL the details,” the bard observed archly.

“An’ you’ll ‘ave ‘em,” Mithi promised. “If Josie’s willing. But ‘ow
about *yer* night. ‘Ave fun?”

“Oh, did I ever!” Tramma avowed. “Way better’n coffee for a wakeup. I’ve
already given the details once this morning, but I’ll do it again for at
least MY side of things.” She grinned at the elf and added coyly, “Maybe
in a girls-only chat; Fin may otherwise hear some things that a
Telidorian guy might not want to.”

The apprentice mage chuckled. “‘E’s made a tiny bit of progress there,”
Mithi observed rather cryptically. “Oi’ll fill ya in later.”

“It’s a plan!” Tramma agreed perkily, and hand in hand with the wizards,
led the couple inwards to where there no doubt was a sumptuous breakfast
awaiting.