The Prince and The Pea a.k.a. The Bear Rug Returneth!

Once upon a time there was a young prince named Louis who wanted to marry, but he wanted to have a real prince. Only a real prince would be his perfect mate. He traveled around the whole world looking for him, but every time he met a prince there was always something amiss. There were plenty of princes but not one of them was quite to his taste. Something was always the matter: they just weren't real princes. They were either too bookish, too stupid, too foolish or too boring. So he returned home very sad and sorry, for he had set his heart on marrying a real prince, someone he could love and would love him in return.

One evening a storm broke over the kingdom. The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and the rain came down in bucketfuls. In the midst of this terrible storm, someone rang at the gate; and Louis himself went down to open it.

On the other side of the gate stood a fine boy. But goodness, how wet he was! Water ran own his clothes and golden hair in streams. It flowed through the heels of his boots. Louis tried to glance over him, but the wet, thin shirt stuck to the stranger's body so alluringly that it was hard to pull himself away from the sight of that comely chest. Finally he managed to look down, but that only made it worse. The boy's pants clung to the shapely legs, and rounded across his back.

"I'm g-glad I m-meet with your approval," the stranger smiled wrily, chattering through the cold.

Louis could have kicked himself. To be caught staring so obviously..."Who are you?" he demanded, more angry at himself than at the stranger.

The stranger crouched at the irate tone, as if he expected to be hit. "M-my name is Lestat, and I'm afraid my horses slipped from the c-carriage. I've been w-walking for hours, could you be so kind as to l-let me in for the n-night?"

"Carriage?" Louis asked vaguely, once more entranced in the shirt, or rather, what was under the shirt.

"Y-yes, my carriage. I'm a prince, d-didn't you know?"

Louis almost laughed. This soaked creature? This beautifully wet darling? "A real prince?"

Lestat nodded. "Oui, a r-real prince. Please, sir, I'm very c-cold and tired. I promise I'll leave as s-soon as the storm finishes, if you want."

Louis thought hard. On one hand, he had no way to know for certain that Lestat was who he said he was. On the other hand, Lestat was gorgeous, and completely in his care for the time being. But then Lestat was covered in mud and looked more like a peasant.

But he said he was a real prince.

We'll find that out quickly enough, thought Louis, but he didn't say that. Instead he smiled, and took Lestat's hand, which was frightfully cold. "I would not dream of turning you out until you are well-rested. Come inside, there's a warm fire for you in the living room."

Lestat grinned broadly and followed Louis to the house, but before he went inside he stopped in the patio, shedding his clothes and wringing them out so they would not drip. Louis opened the door and turned, and stood in stunned silence. Now that Lestat had removed his boots, pants and shirt, Louis could see that this strange prince was indeed a radiant creature. He might have been chiseled from the purest marble. His skin had only the tiniest hint of rose, and even that might have been a trick of the torchlight. Wearing only his soaked boxers which left nothing to the imagination, Lestat was in danger, though he didn't know it, of being ravaged by Louis right then and there.

Louis whirled back toward his house, ripping his eyes from that beautiful body. Where on earth are these feelings coming from? he shuddered. I'm more refined than this! I'm not some sex-starved beast!

"I'm sorry," Lestat suddenly said, seemingly terrified that he may have upset his host. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's just I didn't want to ruin your furniture and--"

Louis smiled and shook his head. "No, no, it's all right, you did not offend me. Let's go inside, you must be frozen. I'll have the servants bring you a new set of clothes."

Lestat tried to object and say that he didn't want to bother him, but Louis merely waved him off and told him to sit on the bear rug in front of the fire. Lestat did as he was told, sighing in comfort as he stretched out on the warm fur. A soft blanket was draped over his shoulders, and he smiled up at Louis, who stood back up to remove his shoes and coat before he sat beside Lestat.

"So, Monsieur Lestat," Louis started, "what brings you to this part of the country? We do not receive many visitors here."

Lestat's smile abruptly faded into a despondent pout, and he looked at the floor. "I am sent to get married," he whispered sadly, "to a man whom I hate."

Louis' eyes opened wide. This heavenly angel? "But why?"

"My brothers are tired of having me in the house, and they've convinced my father," there was hatred in that word, but Louis did not press him further on that, "that I should be married and sent away. They found someone who wanted me and sent me off not two days ago."

"Who is the man?"

"The Marquis, his lord Magnus," Lestat sighed. "But everytime I've seen him, he's given me the most sickly looks, and when I was forced to talk to him at a masquerade, he told me he'd break me to him someday. I--I didn't want to go, so I...I let the horses go and walked in the rain."

"You could have caught pneumonia!" Louis gently scolded him.

"I know. I was trying to, but I saw your lights, and I just couldn't bear the cold any more and...and..." Lestat suddenly burst into tears, holding his head in his hands. "Oh, God, I don't want to live with him! He's so cruel..."

Louis put his arms around Lestat and pulled him into his lap, rocking him back and forth comfortingly. "Shh...it's all right..." He let Lestat cry himself out, until he was only sniffling quietly in Louis' embrace. "You do not have to marry him if you do not want to."

Lestat gazed up at him. "I...I don't?"

Louis shook his head. "No."

"But I can't to go back home."

"Then you can stay here, with me."

Lestat's jaw slowly dropped as he realized what Louis was saying. "Oh...but, I couldn't...I mean, I couldn't intrude like that--"

"Hush," Louis smiled, placing his fingers over Lestat's lips. "I have been searching for a husband, and now I have found the perfect mate. Would you terribly mind marrying me?"

"That would be wonderful, but..." Lestat still tried to shake his head. "No, you don't know me. I can be a perfect brat at times, completely unreasonable. I can throw tantrums, I sulk, I get furious--"

"I said hush," Louis told him again, silencing him with a slow kiss. "Now, not another word out of you for the rest of the night. You are obviously exhausted. You need to rest."

A servant brought out three more thick blankets and several pillows, and Louis made absolutely certain that the two of them would be comfortable on the rug. None of the beds were large enough for two, and he desperately wanted to sleep beside Lestat. However, they did not fall asleep quickly. Lestat got an idea in his head and took up one of the softer pillows, playfully threatening Louis, who picked up his own pillow. They had a splendid pillow fight, and then fell asleep in each other's arms.

Before he completely succombed, though, Louis smiled down at the drowsing Lestat. To hell with the test. I don't care if he is a real prince or not. I love him, and I will marry him.

Louis woke up later on, not realizing what had roused him. He felt Lestat still asleep in his arms, and he held him even tighter. Lestat smiled in his sleep and nestled closer to Louis.

Then Louis heard it. Another knock on the door. For a moment, he wondered if whoever it was would go away, but the knocks became so insistent that Lestat woke up. He sighed, then kissed Louis' lips and started to put on his clothes.

"I suppose we'd best get up," he whispered, in a voice that said he didn't believe that at all.

"Yes, you're right," Louis said reluctantly and headed for the door. He only noticed when he was halfway to the door that Lestat was dressing in his old clothes. "Lestat, you have your new set on the couch," he called, but Lestat didn't hear him.

Louis opened the door and stared in surprise at the three men standing there. "Um...and you would be?"

The oldest man crossed his arms and frowned. "I am the Marquis de Magnus, and this is the Marquis de Lioncourt, with his son, Augustus. We've come to find my betrothed, Lestat de Lioncourt."

Louis steeled himself for a fight. This would not be easy, all three men looked viciously evil.

"There he is!" Augustus yelled, pointing inside the house. "There's the rat!"

Pushing by Louis, Magnus rushed up to Lestat and fiercely struck him, smacking him down to the floor. "You impudent child! Did you think I would just forget about you? I hope you enjoyed last night, today you'll get a flogging for your disobedience!"

Seemingly accustomed to such treatment, Lestat merely turned his head and closed his eyes, weeping quietly and expecting another blow. Magnus, a sadistic sneer on his face, raised his hand to oblige the comparatively small boy trembling beneath him.

"Enough! This is my house," Louis said quietly, but with so much venom and power in his voice that all of them were frightened, "and while Lestat is here, he is my guest and not to be abused."

"Hah! Don't concern yourself with this piece of meat! He is rightfully mine--!"

"Abused by anyone!" Louis narrowed his eyes at them. "And by what right do you claim Lestat for your own?"

"One hundred gold coins," Magnus said smugly, "to be given to the Marquis de Lioncourt once Lestat is in my home."

"Marquis..." Louis mused, not listening to him. He knelt beside Lestat, putting his hands on his shoulders. "Then you...are not a prince?"

Lestat's eyes filled with tears, thinking Louis would no longer love him. He shook his head once, unable to meet the prince's eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered raggedly. "I wish I was."

"You and every other vermin in the country," Augustus laughed.

Lestat's father wouldn't condescend to look at his fallen son. "Get up. You've dawdled long enough. You're costing me money."

Louis couldn't help but hate these intruders. To sell anyone, let alone someone as precious as Lestat, and for so little... Making his mind up in an instant, he glared at them as he rose. "I will give you five hundred gold coins," he offered bluntly. "And you will leave Lestat alone forever."

"What?" Magnus gasped.

"Five hundred?" Augustus said in disbelief.

"Chere, you don't have to...I'm not worth--" Lestat started.

"Yes, you are," Louis interrupted him. "What will it be, Marquis de Lioncourt? One hudred or five hundred?"

"He is yours," Lestat's father said without a moment's hesitation. He watched avariciously as Louis procured the money from a small chest, and snapped the bag up when it was handed to him. He drew out a long piece of paper, wrote something on it, and then thrust it at Louis. "A receipt, sir."

Without any further ado, he turned on his heel and left, a sullen Augustus in tow. Neither of them said a word to Lestat. After a moment, amazed at his sudden loss, Magnus growled to himself and stormed out. Louis shook his head at them, then read the paper.

"Lestat de Lioncourt, in exchange for five hundred gold coins, belongs to Louis de Pointe du Lac. Signed, the Marquis de Lioncourt." He smiled. Lestat was truly his.

He looked over at his lover, only to find him in passionate tears. He shut the door and sat back by the boy on his rug. "What's wrong, Lestat? Why in heaven are you crying?" Lestat tried to answer, but his words were choked by his sobs.

Louis thought for a minute, then groaned as he figured out why Lestat was so overwrought. He took him by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Lestat, I do not hate you for saying you're a prince. I'm not angry at you. I love you. I don't care if you are a prince or not, I want you here with me. Lestat, look at me."

Lestat stared at Louis, his eyes bloodshot. "You...still love me?" he asked incredulously.

Louis nodded. "Would you love me any less if I were not royalty?"

Lestat shook his head emphatically. "Of course not."

Louis smiled. "And I love you. And no, Lestat, I did not buy you to be my slave. You are not going to be my servant. Well, not entirely..." he laughed, laying his hand on Lestat's thigh suggestively. Lestat grinned and kissed Louis, but as he drew back he couldn't stifle his yawn. Louis caressed Lestat's face, kissing him again. "Poor thing, you're still tired. Come, I'd better get you to a real bed." He helped Lestat up and guided him to a remarkably soft bed in the corner of his manor. "I'll be back in a few hours. Now get to sleep."

Lestat took one last kiss from Louis, then smiled gratefully and went to the mattress. Louis gently closed the door and went to go check on his estates.

Awhile later, Louis returned to check on his lover, whom he expected to be fast asleep. When he entered the room, though, he found Lestat wide awake, tossing onto his side.

"Lestat? What's wrong?" Louis rushed to his side.

"I'm sorry, chere, but...there's something strange about this bed," Lestat moaned. He sat up with a weary expression on his face. "I think there's a rock under it."

Louis just looked at him for a moment, then started to laugh. "Oh my, all these years of trying to find the real prince," he giggled, "and instead he's dropped right into my lap!" He smiled bemusedly at Lestat's confused face. "Here, stand up."

Lestat did so, and watched as Louis picked up the mattress to reveal a tiny snow pea on the bed frame.

"You mean that is what kept me awake?" he shuddered at the little thing.

"It was a test which I put the other princes to when I decided I did not want them, something they would all fail because I thought it was impossible. I simply forgot that I had left it. Now we know you are a real prince," Louis smiled, "since you felt the pea that was lying on the bedstead through that thick mattress. Only a real prince could be so sensitive!"

"But I'm not a--" Lestat suddenly stopped.

Louis put his arms around him and drew him close. "What is it, darling?"

Lestat actually smiled shyly! "It's nothing...just that...my nickname..."

"Yes?"

"The Brat Prince."

Louis laughed and hugged him. "Oh, you are a real prince, my love. You felt the pea, you stole my heart. You are my real Brat Prince. Will you marry me?"

Lestat grinned. "Nothing would make me happier, even though you already own me."

Louis kissed him. "Yes, and I will never let you go. Ah, my real prince!"

Now that is a real story!