InsaneJournal

Home sweet...something.
Who: Breacan and Amphitrite.
What: A housewarming gift.
When: Now.
Rating: PGR.
Word Count: 1,358.
Notes: Un'beta as usual.

(Meta Knowledge about where the bed came from.)

When I spoke with interior designers on how I should go about decorating my home, they asked me first, what I wanted.

I wanted understated elegance, no clutter, no bright colors which seem the fashion this year. I wanted the house to feel warm, welcoming, without looking like a clinical hotel room. With that in mind they set about producing the desired effect I was wishing for. And now, every room is how it should be, calming, welcoming, with simple elegance.



There are a few of my possession about the place. The library, small as it is, houses some of my older captain’s logs, the collection of ‘mermaids’ tears’ I tend to collect, mariner’s equipment, a few rare and precious items locked away in glass cabinets (A Viking man’s bracelet lays in one cabinet. It has a peaceful look about it, belying the fact I drowned wearing it) to thwart those who desire a ‘five finger discount’ while staying at the house. All these items are consider ‘family heirlooms’, by visitors, and it delights me to know rarely few realize that is not so. The library is the only room in the house which says my name. It is a room for a seafarer, and, comfortable enough for visitors to poke around in if they have the desire to do so. Even though the room has my touch about it, there is nothing jarring to put it out of place with the rest of the house.

While each room has a distinct character, each room also compliments the other and does not stand out in an odd manner. Well, all the rooms would do so, except my bedroom. And it is through no fault of mine, or the interior designers. Actually, the bedroom would fit in with everything else in the house, if it were not for one single item…the bed.

How I acquired the bed was from one of those incidents, which often leave me, wishing I were a hermit who lived in a cave. The entire conversation that led to me receiving the bed is still not clear in my mind. I place this fact, in one of those categories which develop from been rather happy to forget.

When I had finished decorating my home, I thought it might prove useful to have the advice of a female to look over the place. For some reason which I can not fathom, the female in question turned out to be Poseidon’s wife---her ladyship, Amphitrite. Unlike, Poseidon her ladyship, is charming, caring, and long suffering. I can not think of a bad thing about her, except her preferred choice in men is questionable.

So it was her ladyship came to visit.

As is her way, she breezed in, hands speaking for her and much to my happiness, she entirely approved of the look. All was going well until she entered into my room.

There was a loud audible gasp from her, for a moment I thought her ladyship was going to faint.

“Madame?” I enquired in a panic.

“What is that?” She said. The way it came out was a shriek; it could not be explained as any other way. I had to look; I did not think there was anything in the bedroom worth shrieking about, although considering my lifestyle anything is possible. I looked in expecting to see some sort of monster and saw nothing, everything was as it always was.

“Perhaps, her ladyship could care to tell me what I am looking for.” It was my most diplomatic way of saying: “What the hell is Madame shrieking about?”

In a way, which seemed only Greeks know how, the normal situation was dramatized. She fail around momentarily, gasping and pointing,

“That repulsive thing…that BED.”

I schooled my features not to look astonish. I looked at the bed in question: A single bed with a plain grey army blanket on it. What more would I want?

“It suits me well, Madame.”

More dramatics ensued,

“No. No. No. You can not have that sad thing in your room. I must do something about it, at once.”

Before I could say anything she flounced out of the home. Her words echoing in my mind. The ‘at once’ did not happen immediately at once. It actually happened a few weeks later. I was away…and returned home to find well, the bed that is in my room now.

The first I heard about it was from the cook, who was gushing, cooing and sighing romantically about my ‘fabulous new house gift’. With some apprehension, I went down the hall to the bedroom and opened the door to see my ‘fabulous new house gift.’

It took my mind a full second to convince my eyes what I was seeing, was real.

The bed was…big. Took up half the floor space, king-size, big. Not only that it screamed, “I am a man’s bad. The manliest bed you will ever see. I am so masculine I put ‘brute’ in the Brute after shave.”

I leaned up against the door, no; rather I sagged rather heavily. I stared at it, then glared, my first thought was ‘Poseidon’.

Angry, I stomped off back to court to chew him out for the monstrosity that now defiled my bedroom. It was there I meet up with her ladyship who enquired if I enjoyed her gift. I blinked, trying to calm myself. And discovered the bed, in fact, was from her ladyship. It was a well meaning gift from the heart, and after my welfare. No malice was intended.

Her ladyship told me she had the bed custom made. She requested the help from various other deities who gifted the bed with blessings. One in particular, from the god Hypnos, to help me sleep better. If that was not enough, she had the head and the foot of the bed carved in bas relief with parts from my life. The head and the foot of the bed are divided into three panels, to break the story up for ease of ‘reading’.

“And…” She added as she went on to describing the parts of the bed, “At the foot of the bed, on the outside, is one empty panel. Nothing is carved on it.”

I could not help but raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Why is that?”

She gave me a nudge with a wink,

“The panel represents your present life. It will be filled with where your heart will go.”

The first night I lay in the bed, part of me wanted to bring in a navigation system, to make sure I found my way out of the bed in the morning. The bed is ridiculously immense.

There is also one other thing I have not mentioned, the bed is also a four poster bed. The posts are like the rest of the bed, carved, masculine and imposing. It does not help matters, caved in three dimensional glory are sea nymphs, merefolk, and other sea creatures all posed cavorting in very risqué positions. There are some positions, I find myself looking at, wondering if it is entirely possible to …ah…never mind, I digress from the story.

Of course, a bed that size, in a small house like this, can not be hidden for long. Many an open mouth, guest apparently have been snuck into the bedroom for a 'show and tell'. I am certain the tales about the bed, from the cook, have by now reached mythical, romantic proportions of its origins, why I have it, and what went on in it. All of which are believed.

I know this as I often receive a lot of nudge, nudge, wink, wink, actions from the spinster every time the bed is mentioned in passing.

Interestingly, no one has asked the little detailed, question of how the bed actually managed to get there in such a small room. If one took close inspection, it soon becomes apparent the bed does not pull apart. And no one, not even the cook seen anyone bring it in. I gather the question is insignificant once someone sees the bed. As it is rather impossible to think of anything little, once you clap eyes on that bed.