You Know What They Say
Author: railise
Title: You Know What They Say
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: vaguely implied Arthur/Gwen
Character/s: Merlin, Gwen, Cook, OC's
Summary: Merlin and Gwen accidentally overhear a kitchen maid's vocabulary lesson.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1000
Prompt: innuendo
Author's Note: I thought this prompt would be easy! But it actually gave me a little trouble, since I wrote an innuendo fic years ago and wanted to make sure I didn't repeat myself. I think that was mostly successful, except the part where I can't seem to entirely separate from food for these stories… XD
"You know what they say about the size of a man's boots…" Cook's voice carried more than the woman probably realized, and Merlin and Gwen exchanged a look, slowing their walk along the corridor as they approached the kitchens. It sounded like Cook was in the middle of a conversation, and she hated being interrupted. It was best to let her finish before going in so Gwen could request the changes Arthur wanted made to the dinner menu and Merlin could gather food for himself and Gaius.
Elsie, a rather young new maidservant with a distinctively high-pitched voice, responded, "No, what do they say?"
Merlin and Gwen exchanged another glance, somewhat amused.
"You're joking, surely?" That sounded like Nan, a seasoned kitchen maid and a close friend of Cook's.
"I'm not. Just tell me," Elsie pleaded.
"It means he's got big feet," Nan said with a chuckle.
"Well, that's obvious." Elsie's tone was pouty.
"And you know what they say about the size of a man's feet…" Cook put in.
"You're just teasing me now," Elsie squeaked.
Merlin was suddenly hoping very much that Elsie never got her answer. Gwen clearly was familiar with what was being discussed, but "awkward" wouldn't begin to cover how they'd both likely feel if the older women were to explain what they meant.
"We're not teasing. This is age-old knowledge," Nan assured her.
"Well, what does it mean, then?"
Cook boomed, "It means he's got a big-"
Merlin winced.
"-sword."
"...Sword?" Elsie repeated dubiously.
"In a manner of speaking," Nan confirmed.
Elsie sounded bewildered. "That makes no sense. Sir Percival wears the biggest boots I've ever seen, but uses the same size sword as the other knights."
Merlin only heard the slight choking Gwen made because she was right next to him; fortunately, it wouldn't have carried to the kitchens.
There was a pause, then Cook asked curiously, "And how would you know about the size of Sir Percival's sword?"
Gwen's choking noise had been quiet. Nan's was not.
"I've looked," Elsie replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
It sounded as though Nan might actively be gagging on something. Merlin started to take a step toward the doorway, thinking to make sure she was all right, but she coughed and cleared her throat at the same time that Gwen placed her hand on his arm to stop him. They exchanged a little shrug.
"My poor girl, we're not talking about that sword," Cook finally said.
Brightly, Elsie asked, "He has another?"
Nan lost it, bursting out laughing. "I'd wager we'd have heard by now if he didn't."
"All right, let's try this," Cook said. "Do you know what they say about a man with a big nose?"
"No, what?"
"Elsie." Cook's voice sounded strained. "It means other parts of him are also large."
"Sir Percival is quite massive," Elsie said musingly. "His arms are the size of tree trunks. Probably a good thing, too, so he can lift that other sword he's got."
Gwen dropped her face into her hands. Merlin managed to stifle a snort.
"Not that kind of sword!" Nan exclaimed. "Gods help me, aren't you married?"
"Yes, ten whole months now!" Elsie responded happily.
"Then, you should know what kind of sword we mean!"
"I don't follow…"
Gwen's shoulders started shaking, her face still in her hands. Merlin was momentarily concerned, until she exchanged a quick glance with him before burying her face in her palms again. She was laughing!
Cook sighed loudly. "Elsie. We mean his hammer."
"His pickle."
"His maypole."
"His dingle."
"His pike."
"His widgie."
Suddenly, Elsie gasped, "Oh! You mean…his doodle?"
"His doodle?!" the other women exclaimed in unison. Gwen bent over, shaking harder.
"So, you're telling me that if a man's got big boots- big feet- it means he's got a big doodle?" Elsie asked in wonderment.
"That's what they say," Cook confirmed.
"They probably wouldn't say ‘doodle,'" Nan muttered.
"I wish somebody'd told me this before I married Ned." Elsie had a flash of realization. "That means Sir Percival-!"
"Hush!" Cook reprimanded, as though they hadn't been speaking loudly enough to be heard in Ealdor all this time.
Her voice lower now, Elsie continued, "And you said ‘men with big noses', as well- King Arthur's nose is a goodly size…"
Gwen stopped shaking, but her hands remained over her face.
"Right you are, duckie," Cook chortled.
"What about other parts? Do they mean the same thing?"
"Which parts do you mean?" Nan asked.
A sudden feeling of dread washed over Merlin, but before he could react, Elsie piped up, "Well, what about big ears?"
The women giggled. "No doubt," Cook declared.
Nan chimed in, "Have you seen the ears on the king's manser-"
"Cook!" Gwen called, springing to her feet and flying toward the doorway more quickly than Merlin had ever seen her move. The kitchen was suddenly all business as Gwen delivered Arthur's request. When she came back out again, Merlin was in exactly the same place she'd left him.
"Don't you need food for your supper?" she asked quietly.
"If you think I'm going in there right now, you're mad. I'll go to the market."
She laughed. "That's probably a safe choice."
As they made their way down the corridor, Merlin could see in his peripheral vision the little glances Gwen kept darting at him. Finally, he looked straight at her and asked, "What?"
He knew full well what, and she knew he knew, but she shook her head quickly. "Nothing! Nothing."
Reaching the staircase that led to Arthur's chambers, Gwen said, "Well, then, good luck at the maypo-MARKET!" Clapping a hand over her mouth and turning bright pink, she fled up the stairs.
Disconcerted, Merlin meandered toward the castle entrance. He reached up and gave the hair over his ear a tug. He'd been quite liking it short, but maybe it was time to let it grow out…
Title: You Know What They Say
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: vaguely implied Arthur/Gwen
Character/s: Merlin, Gwen, Cook, OC's
Summary: Merlin and Gwen accidentally overhear a kitchen maid's vocabulary lesson.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1000
Prompt: innuendo
Author's Note: I thought this prompt would be easy! But it actually gave me a little trouble, since I wrote an innuendo fic years ago and wanted to make sure I didn't repeat myself. I think that was mostly successful, except the part where I can't seem to entirely separate from food for these stories… XD
"You know what they say about the size of a man's boots…" Cook's voice carried more than the woman probably realized, and Merlin and Gwen exchanged a look, slowing their walk along the corridor as they approached the kitchens. It sounded like Cook was in the middle of a conversation, and she hated being interrupted. It was best to let her finish before going in so Gwen could request the changes Arthur wanted made to the dinner menu and Merlin could gather food for himself and Gaius.
Elsie, a rather young new maidservant with a distinctively high-pitched voice, responded, "No, what do they say?"
Merlin and Gwen exchanged another glance, somewhat amused.
"You're joking, surely?" That sounded like Nan, a seasoned kitchen maid and a close friend of Cook's.
"I'm not. Just tell me," Elsie pleaded.
"It means he's got big feet," Nan said with a chuckle.
"Well, that's obvious." Elsie's tone was pouty.
"And you know what they say about the size of a man's feet…" Cook put in.
"You're just teasing me now," Elsie squeaked.
Merlin was suddenly hoping very much that Elsie never got her answer. Gwen clearly was familiar with what was being discussed, but "awkward" wouldn't begin to cover how they'd both likely feel if the older women were to explain what they meant.
"We're not teasing. This is age-old knowledge," Nan assured her.
"Well, what does it mean, then?"
Cook boomed, "It means he's got a big-"
Merlin winced.
"-sword."
"...Sword?" Elsie repeated dubiously.
"In a manner of speaking," Nan confirmed.
Elsie sounded bewildered. "That makes no sense. Sir Percival wears the biggest boots I've ever seen, but uses the same size sword as the other knights."
Merlin only heard the slight choking Gwen made because she was right next to him; fortunately, it wouldn't have carried to the kitchens.
There was a pause, then Cook asked curiously, "And how would you know about the size of Sir Percival's sword?"
Gwen's choking noise had been quiet. Nan's was not.
"I've looked," Elsie replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
It sounded as though Nan might actively be gagging on something. Merlin started to take a step toward the doorway, thinking to make sure she was all right, but she coughed and cleared her throat at the same time that Gwen placed her hand on his arm to stop him. They exchanged a little shrug.
"My poor girl, we're not talking about that sword," Cook finally said.
Brightly, Elsie asked, "He has another?"
Nan lost it, bursting out laughing. "I'd wager we'd have heard by now if he didn't."
"All right, let's try this," Cook said. "Do you know what they say about a man with a big nose?"
"No, what?"
"Elsie." Cook's voice sounded strained. "It means other parts of him are also large."
"Sir Percival is quite massive," Elsie said musingly. "His arms are the size of tree trunks. Probably a good thing, too, so he can lift that other sword he's got."
Gwen dropped her face into her hands. Merlin managed to stifle a snort.
"Not that kind of sword!" Nan exclaimed. "Gods help me, aren't you married?"
"Yes, ten whole months now!" Elsie responded happily.
"Then, you should know what kind of sword we mean!"
"I don't follow…"
Gwen's shoulders started shaking, her face still in her hands. Merlin was momentarily concerned, until she exchanged a quick glance with him before burying her face in her palms again. She was laughing!
Cook sighed loudly. "Elsie. We mean his hammer."
"His pickle."
"His maypole."
"His dingle."
"His pike."
"His widgie."
Suddenly, Elsie gasped, "Oh! You mean…his doodle?"
"His doodle?!" the other women exclaimed in unison. Gwen bent over, shaking harder.
"So, you're telling me that if a man's got big boots- big feet- it means he's got a big doodle?" Elsie asked in wonderment.
"That's what they say," Cook confirmed.
"They probably wouldn't say ‘doodle,'" Nan muttered.
"I wish somebody'd told me this before I married Ned." Elsie had a flash of realization. "That means Sir Percival-!"
"Hush!" Cook reprimanded, as though they hadn't been speaking loudly enough to be heard in Ealdor all this time.
Her voice lower now, Elsie continued, "And you said ‘men with big noses', as well- King Arthur's nose is a goodly size…"
Gwen stopped shaking, but her hands remained over her face.
"Right you are, duckie," Cook chortled.
"What about other parts? Do they mean the same thing?"
"Which parts do you mean?" Nan asked.
A sudden feeling of dread washed over Merlin, but before he could react, Elsie piped up, "Well, what about big ears?"
The women giggled. "No doubt," Cook declared.
Nan chimed in, "Have you seen the ears on the king's manser-"
"Cook!" Gwen called, springing to her feet and flying toward the doorway more quickly than Merlin had ever seen her move. The kitchen was suddenly all business as Gwen delivered Arthur's request. When she came back out again, Merlin was in exactly the same place she'd left him.
"Don't you need food for your supper?" she asked quietly.
"If you think I'm going in there right now, you're mad. I'll go to the market."
She laughed. "That's probably a safe choice."
As they made their way down the corridor, Merlin could see in his peripheral vision the little glances Gwen kept darting at him. Finally, he looked straight at her and asked, "What?"
He knew full well what, and she knew he knew, but she shook her head quickly. "Nothing! Nothing."
Reaching the staircase that led to Arthur's chambers, Gwen said, "Well, then, good luck at the maypo-MARKET!" Clapping a hand over her mouth and turning bright pink, she fled up the stairs.
Disconcerted, Merlin meandered toward the castle entrance. He reached up and gave the hair over his ear a tug. He'd been quite liking it short, but maybe it was time to let it grow out…