You've Got Another Thing Coming

At the King’s request Rose and I were sent to a room in the castle. He claimed he needed ‘a good night’s sleep to come to terms with the necessary arrangements’.
I translated it to: ‘I don’t know what to do and I need some time for my advisors to brainstorm up a good idea and then I get to sound cool’.

“So,” began Rose. “Here we are.”

“Yes, I’d say we very much are here”, I replied snottily.

The room was grand. There was no other way to describe it. Everything from the wallpaper and the lamps to the two beds that stood on either side of the room was grand.
I glanced at a grand painting as Rose went to rummage through a grand closet

“So,” I said, “What are we going to do?”

“Wait for the King’s decision, I guess.”

I glared at the grandness of Rose’s backside as it rocked back and forth in search for something inside the closet.

“I kind of figured”, I grumbled. “And when the King tells us what he’s decided?”

“Obey”, came the simple answer.
Rose suddenly gave up a very feminine cry of delight and swirled around. In her arms were a heap of clothes that she tossed at me.

“Try them on”, she ordered, and when I untangled the pieces of cloth it revealed a white wife-beater, a simple black shirt and a pair of faded jeans.

“Not very royal,” I commented as I took in the outfit. “And, it’s a little gay.”

Rose shook her head at me and glanced wryly into the open closet. “It’s either that or a pair of green spandex pants and pink suspenders.”

I shuddered. Nevertheless, I rose and started pulling my dress off, only to find that it was an impossible task. I wiggled and waggled, whined and yelped, sucked in my breath and did my best at resembling a cucumber, but success was nowhere near our room. It had, in fact, gone on a coffee break.

Rose stood with her hair on end and her delicate hands on her hips and stared at me accusingly.

“You’re too big!” she complained. “We’re going to have to cut you out of there.”

The thought of a pair of sharp scissors near my hairy skin made me shiver involuntarily. I kind of had a phobia about pointy sharp thingies that could hurt.

“Can’t we just tear it?” I wondered, my voice a bit choked as my head was cramped underneath my arm and my nose was in my armpit. I seriously needed a bath.

Rose contemplated it. “I think we could have a go at it”, she agreed.

The next thing I knew she was on her knees in front of me, pulling at the rips in my mangled dress. She grumbled and sighed and groaned with her efforts, and I yelped and screamed and groaned in my effort to stay on my feet.

Suddenly the door was flung open. Both Rose and I stopped mid-breath and stared at the doorway where the silhouette of a tall man blocked out most of the light from the hallway behind him.

“What the hell is going on here?” a dark voice demanded. “Rose, is that you?”

Rose immediately scrambled to her feet. “Cherokee?” her voice went through a couple of octaves when she realised who the man was.

“Rose!” he roared. “What were you doing on the floor in front of that guy?”

The blonde beauty was flabbergasted. Her mouth popped open and closed repeatedly in a way that would make a goldfish jealous.

“She was tearing up my dress,” I answered for her. The man’s eyes turned to me, and they started to burn with a fury that made my following words fade out. “She was... helping me.”

“Cherokee,” Rose begged the silhouette. “It’s not what you think!”

“What I think?” the man, Cherokee, shouted. “I think my baby sister is in a stranger’s room, reproducing!”

He practically spit out the last word. I understood what the situation looked like to him, but I couldn’t for the world comprehend how it ever could have ended up with reproduction.
I came to the wonderful conclusion that this guy had never gone to a biology class.

“We weren’t having sex!” Rose spluttered out, her face a vibrant red. “I was helping her get out of the dress!”

Cherokee, I now noticed, bared some striking similarities with Rose. They both had pointed ears that were nearly invisible under the lush blonde hair. The shape of their noses were practically identical, only hers was a bit smaller, their chins were a bit pointed as well and they both had high cheekbones that accentuated their lilac eyes.
Rose’s lovely lips were pulled back over a strikingly perfect set of teeth, and the man in front of her mimicked her features. They looked like a male-female version of the same person. It was actually a bit scary.
Cherokee was as tall as Rose was short. I myself had a good 6.2 feet to my male name, but the tufts on the top of my head barely made it to the tip of the curve of his Cupid-bowed upper lip.

All this I came up with as the two siblings – could they be anything else – stood in the centre of the room, nose to nose, yelling at each other without listening to one another.

I cleared my throat. There was no response, so I cleared my throat again.
When I went for a third try, the blonde pair turned their heads simultaneously to glare at me:

“What?!”

I skipped back a couple of steps in pure surprise at the vehemence in their voices, but composed myself quickly.

“Could someone get me out of my dress?” I inquired softly, casting begging glances at Rose. “It’s getting harder and harder to breathe.”

Cherokee straightened out immediately and was by my side in one long stride. He towered over me and grabbed a handful of fabric from the front of my dress, which, I must say was quite an accomplishment as the dress was particularly tight just around that area.

“Listen, kiddo”, he hissed out the word. “If you ever so much look at my sister again, I will hang you upside down by your balls!”

I met his frightening glare with my own surprised one: “Will that hurt?”

“Like hell”, Rose assured me from behind her brother. “He’s done it a couple of times to some other guys, and they screamed like pigs.”

“They were pigs,” Cherokee growled. “Just. Like. You!”

With every new syllable he shoved me harshly and I would have fallen if it weren’t for his firm grip of the front of my dress.

“I’m not a pig”, I scoffed. “I’m human.”

I heard a very scorning sound coming from the blonde guy and a badly disguised giggle from Rose.

“Then we have a disagreement”, Cherokee stated and pressed my back against a wall. “Because I think you’re a filthy, rotten, smelly pig!”

“Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to insult the King’s guest?” I wondered timidly.

“I think it’s my obligation to do so”, he snarled.

“You’ve made a habit out of threatening innocent girls?” I carried on, not caring about the furious expression on my soon-to-be killer’s face.

This took him off guard and he eased off a bit. Then, his face clouded over.
“I never threaten girls”, he growled. “Rose is completely unharmed.”

“I think she’s referring to someone else, Cherokee”, Rose piped up, grinning like mad.

“I’m a girl”, I confessed.

There was a short pause.

Then, Cherokee burst out laughing. Inconveniently, his fit made him tighten the grip on the fabric of me dress and, with the most exquisite noise, the dress ripped at all its seams.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I stood, my hair plastered wet against my scull and the new clothes on, in the centre of the room. Rose was doing some final adjustments on my shirt and Cherokee was slyly leaning against an opposite wall.

After he had torn my dress I had rushed into the closet and covered myself up with the green spandex pants, too embarrassed to even think about what I was doing.
I had eventually demanded free passage to the joining bathroom, and my request had been approved by a very grumpy Cherokee and an annoyingly giggly Rose.

While I was in the bathroom cleaning myself up Rose had explained the situation to Cherokee, and he had backed off instantly. I had yet to hear an apology, but I figured I was okay with it as long as he didn’t try to kill me.

Now I had Rose’s home-composed outfit on and was glad to say that it didn’t look as gay on as it did off.

“I’m a genius!” Rose exclaimed as she took in my clean, new-shaved (trust me, that was an adventure all in itself) figure. “You’re hot!”

I twirled around in front of her, a smile plastered on my face.

“Jeez, Callie”, Rose mumbled approvingly, “If I hadn’t known you’re a girl I would be all over you!”

Cherokee rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

Then there came a rapping, a gentle tapping at the chamber door. Rose went to open it, and outside stood the small boy from the hall.

“The King requests your presence”, he stated and turned on his heel. As he walked away we stared at him curiously.

“Perhaps we should follow him?” I suggested.

And so we did.