The Waif and the Waterfall

Back to “creative writing”, and not moaning about someone else’s work. We return to a pair of characters I wrote about previously.

“Who???” you ask? Wait and see!

Or you can find their earlier story HERE.

For three days Sir Jerrick had tracked his quarry, Sir Oridin, the disgraced knight-bandit of Plannwir. He chased him across the plains of Mokna, through the hills of Bartran, and into the dense Kaldroe Woods.

Ahead of Sir Jerrick were clear signs that Sir Oridin had been through. Snapped branches, heavy metal boot prints in the moist soil, discarded pouches, and adornments that might slow him down. His path was clear; due east. The signs were fresh. He was catching his foe.

The chase had depleted Sir Jerrick’s supplies. His water pouch had run dry, and with his prey so close, he knew a quick sidetrack to refill it wouldn’t hinder his pursuit. For several miles the sound of rushing water had persisted to the south, and so to that direction he would go.

Not five minutes from his path he came upon a pool at the base of a gentle waterfall cascading down from a rocky outcrop barely fifteen feet above. But he was not alone. In the pool was a woman bathing with her back to him. She was slender and delicate, her long black hair slithering down her back with the flow of the water. She turned slightly, revealing her long pointed ears and golden eyes. She was a wood elf, a child of the forest. As beautiful as she was ancient.

She hadn’t spotted him yet, so he ducked back into the undergrowth to obfuscate his presence.

Was it wrong for him to sit there and watch? Perhaps not for some uncouth peasant, but he was a member of the lower nobility, a knight no less, held to a higher standard than the common rabble. Surely it was wrong to spy on an unsuspecting woman, naked or otherwise.

He resolved that he would turn his back and make his presence known, so he could do what he came to do and continue his chase.

After several more minutes of watching, naturally.

He assured himself that when he told the tale later, he would see nothing, and immediately avert his eyes and let the lady know he was there. It was the right thing to do. He felt pretty good about himself.

“What are you doing?” a woman’s voice asked from behind.

Sir Jerrick spun and drew his sword. Standing behind him was another elf, though this one was clothed in ragged pants and a filthy white blouse. She looked surprisingly like the woman in the water, though rougher, like she hadn’t bathed for several weeks.

Sir Jerrick sensed that she was no physical threat and put his sword in its sheath. “I seek nourishment and came upon this watering hole to fill my skin.”

“Fill your skin?” The elf scoffed. “I’ve never heard it called that before. That’s disgusting.”

“What do you imply, she-elf?” the knight questioned, angrily.

“She-elf? You should call me Caecelia.” The elf replied.

“And why would I care by what name you go?”

The elf shrugged. “Well, if that’s your attitude, you’ll be delighted to know that’s not even my name.”

The elf, Caecelia, then poked her head forward and looked into the pool at the bathing woman. “Were you were grabbing at your thing there while watching this woman bathe? That’s despicable.”

“How dare you!” Sir Jerrick snarled.

“How dare you.” The elf replied, glancing back only briefly. “Imagine if she had seen you. What if the site of your little squire there drove her sex mad and she rushed over here to start fondling you?”

Sir Jerrick was taken aback. “Might that happen? I mean to say, is that a possibility?”

“Of course not, you degenerate swine.” Caecelia laughed. “She could never love you. Not in that way.”

“What does that mean? Speak plainly, wood sprite.” Sir Jerrick demanded.

“Speak plainly to you? Who was here tugging at your sleepy little soldier, watching an unsuspecting woman—whoa, was she doing that before?”

Sir Jerrick pushed the elf to the side and began staring again, then turned away again with a huff. “She’s not doing anything salacious! How dare you impel me to engage in such indecency again.”

“Impel you?” Caecelia asked, turning back to sneer at Sir Jerrick, before staring again at the bathing woman. “She was touching, well—it’s lady stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Lady stuff?” Sir Jerrick scoffed. “Are you suggesting I know nothing of the art of love?”

The elf stepped back away from the edge of the pool and gave Sir Jerrick a disbelieving stare. “My good sir, I doubt it’s an art with you. More like a wet slab of meat slapping against a pile of mud—no, wait, that’s not right. Mud can’t be disinterested. Forget that analogy.”

“You insult me again.” Sir Jerrick growled. “Were you a man, I’d cut out your tongue.”

Caecelia winced. “See, now that’s a little extreme. That’s not how you win over a lady.”

“And do you consider yourself a lady?” The knight scoffed.

“That’s a personal question, and none of your business, thank you. Unless you’re interested? Are you interested? Do you find me attractive? Do you want to get married? Do you have a lot of money? Answer the last question first.”

“What?” Sir Jerrick bellowed in confusion. “Why do you talk in damned circles?”

“Because it’s easier than talking in dodecagons. I can’t even count that high because I run out of fingers, but my cousin, Caesestus, can do it. I swear to you. His parents are double cousins, if you can believe that. I bet a lot of that thing goes on with you nobility types though, keeping the bloodlines pure and all that. Caesestus’s— Caesestusiz, is that right? Do I add another ‘s’ to make his name possessive when it ends in an ‘s’ already? It sounds funny. Doesn’t it? It’s easier in Elvish because you declinate possessive to add a ‘dan’, so we just call everyone ‘Dan’ when we use the possessive.”

“Anyway, Dan’s parents aren’t royalty, they’re bakers. Not very good ones. His mom once made biscuits for the winter solstice festival that had everyone running for the woods every ten minutes. How is that even possible? That’s not Dan’s birth mom though, his dad never married his mother, that kind of thing is frowned upon. Not marriage mind you, but the double cousin thing. Good for a bit of fun, but you can’t marry them, you know what I mean?”

Sir Jerrick pulled his helmet from his head, threw it in the grass, grabbed at his hair, and then began pulling it relentlessly. “What devilry is this? What were we even discussing? Why am I here?”

“You were telling me how you’d like to lie with me, and that’s ok. But, I don’t want to hear the details, because I find you repulsive. Don’t take that too harshly though, many fine men die having never known a woman’s touch. I’m not holding that against you, so neither should you.”

Sir Jerrick stared at the tiny little elf vagabond, debating if it would take one swing, or two, from his sword to cut her in half. Who would know? Surely nobody would care that he killed her. It wasn’t the chivalrous way, but he assured himself when he told the story of the waif and the waterfall, he would just leave her out and so everyone would know he was a good man.

“Tell me this, elf.” Sir Jerrick began. “Why are you here, gazing upon this bathing beauty?”

“Oh, trying to turn this around on me, eh?” Caecelia squirmed. “I’ll have you know I have a very good reason. I’m a pervert. Well, there it is. You wormed it out of me. I’ve said it.”

“Admitting to such lechery? I would be within my mandate to slay you for that. Be you a woman or not.” Sir Jerrick said proudly.

“Save it, Sir Tiny.” She said as she waved her hand at him. “I’m pretty sure it’s ok to peep on someone you’re in love with.”

“In love?” Sir Jerrick questioned.

“Yes!” the elf said with a grin. “We’re going to be married.”

Sir Jerrick shook his head in disbelief. “Married?”

“You don’t approve?” Caecelia sneered. “You don’t think elves should be married? Is it the double cousins thing?”

The knight closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. “No—I, hold a moment, woman. You speak so quickly. Is she your cousin?”

“And why do you want to know that? You’re looking for an in, I take it? Think I might put in a good word? Forget it. I won’t do your dirty work. If you love her, you have to say that to her. Don’t wait for me to do it, because, if we’re being honest, I’ll get halfway out into that water, get distracted and forget.”

“Distracted? What nonsense is this?”

“I can’t swim.”

Sir Jerrick peered out into the pond, mostly to catch another sneaky glance at the bathing woman, but also to gauge how deep the water was and whether he could throw her that far.

“You little sneak.” Caecelia chortled. “I know what you’re up to.”

“Do you now?” The knight said as he turned back to face the elf with a menacing grin.

“I do, I do! You were taking a sneaky little look.”

“I was!” Sir Jerreck beamed, egging her on.

“Naughty boy. And what if she saw you?”

“Oh, we’ve been through that.” The knight said, putting up his finger.

“Clever. Clever. One step ahead of me.” Caecelia laughed. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Go?”

“Yeah. You were going to throw me in. And then the bathing beauty would rescue me, and we’d get married and have a happy life. It’s a great plan, and I’m glad you’re here to help. Imagine me just swimming out and falling in. She’d rescue me, sure, but she’d know I was here peeping on her. It’s despicable. Now, you get to be the villain.”

Sir Jerrick kicked his helmet away. “I tire of your games, woman! I’ve tarried too long and must continue the pursuit. I will make myself known.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” The elf warned. “She might be really mad that we were watching.”

“No.” Sir Jerrick began. “You were watching, and if you keep that to yourself, she needn’t know.”

Sir Jerrick grabbed the vagabond elf roughly by the back neck and held her tight. He took one last glance at the bathing woman, then turned away. “My gentlewoman.” He shouted. “Don’t be alarmed, but I am in need of water. If you could please protect your modesty, I’ll take my fill and be on my way.”

“This guy was spying on you!” Caecelia shouted.

Sir Jerrick tightened his grip around the elf’s neck and scowled at her. “You damned fool! Now I’ll be forced to—”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was struck from behind by a powerful blow. He landed on his chest and skidded several feet. When he turned over, he saw a giant humanoid woman in the visage of a cow, naked, and dripping wet. She stepped forward and stood over him, granting him a view familiar only to the trade of midwifery.

“You were spying on me?” the giant cow asked.

“What? What happened to the elf?” Sir Jerrick said, confused.

“I’m right here.” Caecelia replied, standing next to the cow.

“No, the one bathing.” Sir Jerrick said as he sat up.

The giant cow turned to the elf. “Did you cast an enchantment, Cae?”

The elf shrugged with a smile. “Oh come on, Moo. I sure didn’t want to see you out there with—all of you out there—like this.”

“Moo, is it?” Sir Jerrick asked. “I assure you I wasn’t—”

The giant cow woman kicked Sir Jerrick back to the ground and placed her hoof on his chest, pinning him down. “You will address me by my proper name.”

Sir Jerrick waited, and when nothing more was forthcoming finally asked “And that is?”

“Mootella!” the cow bellowed.

“Fine! Fine! Mootella, I assure you that I wasn’t spying. This wicked elf tricked me.”

“Oh, you didn’t want to look at me bathing?” Mootella growled. “Is that it? Do you not find me attractive?”

“This is absurd!” Sir Jerrick protested.

“That’s a no.” Caecelia said, assuredly. “I told you. He finds you repugnant. And why shouldn’t he? You’re filthy. Go and have a bath!”

Mootella looked down at herself, dripping in mud. “You’re right!”

“Damned elf.” Sir Jerrick cried as he tried to squirm free of Mootella’s hoof. “You bewitched me. I’ll have your head for this.”

“See, now that’s a little extreme. That’s not how you win over a lady.” Mootella said.

Caecelia burst out laughing. “I already told him that.”

Mootella eased up, stepped off Sir Jerrick’s chest, then turned to Caecelia. “You’re going to need to catch me up then. This man’s time is valuable, and we can’t just keep repeating the same things to him, can we?”

Sir Jerrick leapt to his feet and let out a bestial roar. He drew his sword and ran toward Caecelia. Before he got close, a blade swung out from behind a tree and slashed him across his throat. He halted in his tracks, dropped his sword, and grabbed at his throat, blood now pouring profusely down onto the ground.

From behind the tree emerged another man clad in tarnished armor. It was Sir Oridin, the villain Sir Jerrick had been pursuing.

Sir Jerrick fell to his knees and lurched forward. With a swift swing, Sir Oridin’s sword came down on the back of Sir Jerrick’s neck, separating his head from his body.

Sir Oridin shook the blood from his sword, and then wiped it with a cloth. “Thank you, good ladies, for your assistance. Though you only now know that you were unwitting participants in my gambit. This menace has pursued me for many days, and would have had the better of me, had you not intervened.”

The two women looked at each other, confused.

“You think we were helping you?” Mootella asked.

“Whether you knew it or not, you—” Sir Oridin tried to look away. “—do you have something to cover yourself?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Caecelia said. “She’s seen it before. She’s not ashamed.”

Sir Oridin turned himself slightly to the side so Mootella was no longer directly in his vision. “If there is any way I can repay you for your help, I would gladly—”

“You can marry one of us.” Caecelia interjected.

“Marry one of you?” Sir Oridin asked, confused.

Mootella tilted her head. “Was the emphasis on one of us? Is he interested in marrying us both? How would that work? Would we share a house? Would we have to take care of each other’s children? Is he even attracted to me? Do you find me attractive? Do you have a lot of money? Answer the last question first.”

Caecelia tapped Mootella on the arm. “I did that already, with the other one.”

“Yes, but this is a new one.” Mootella replied. “We have to lure him in, because he killed the first one.”

Sir Oridin turned back to face them both. “Lure me in?”

“Yeah.” Mootella began. “She hungers for ground up flesh.”

“I do not!” Caecelia protested. “I like the taste of it. I don’t hunger for it.”

“Do you think he’ll make good sausage?” Mootella asked menacingly.

“Dear gods, a dragon!” Sir Oridin bellowed, pointing behind the women.

The two women turned around to look. Seeing nothing, they turned back to find Sir Oridin in a dead sprint running away from them.

“That was a dirty trick.” Caecelia moaned.

“Yeah. Now we’ll have to cook the sausages ourselves.” Mootella replied.

“What a coward.” Caecelia said with a shrug. “Help me with this body.”

“Help? You mean you want me to carry him?” Mootella grumbled.

“Of course. I’ll run on ahead and sharpen the cleavers and get the sausage grinder ready.”

“My stomach is rumbling already!” Mootella said, rubbing at her belly.

“I know! I know! But you’ll have to be patient.” Caecelia warned. “We’ll need to bury this guy before we can grind the pork sausages.”

Image sourced from: https://christophermartinphotography.com/2013/08/06/a-secluded-waterfall-in-kananaskis/

The inspiration for this was little more than me hearing part of a conversation in my head and then adding some context and extrapolating on it. These two characters, Caecelia and Mootella, are some kind of blending of Raoul Duke and Doctor Gonzo from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas with Groucho and Chico Marx. So, they seemed a good fit for the scenario. I imagined the knight character, Sir Jerrick, to be like the lemonade vendor in Duck Soup. Just some poor geek who unwittingly wandered into the domain of two truly anarchic scoundrels.

It is weird that I’ve now written two stories that involve a man peeping on a woman. Don’t read too much into that, unless you’re a psychologist.

Are you a psychologist? Are you single? Does it pay well? Answer the last question first!

EDIT: I’ve promised in the past that I won’t edit the content of stories, just fix little errors. I found a question mark in the wrong place. And in the postscript I mistakenly referred to the “peanut vendor” in Duck Soup when I meant the guy selling lemonade. Famously Harpo sits in the lemonade, driving all the customers away. Chico was selling peanuts.