No one knows this riddle anymore but me

[maderr]

For serious. I thought everyone knew it. Apparently 'everyone' just translates as 'just me.'

On that note, I take sick pleasure in finging ways to slash the most random things.

The Riddle:

As I was going to St. Ives,
I met a man with seven wives
Each wife had seven sacks
Each sack had seven cats
Each cat had seven kits
So kits, cats, sacks, and wives
How many were there going to St. Ives?

Obviously it works better if you say it, rather than read it. I managed to get my roommate with it, hee hee.



Quincy gawked. Honestly, he tried not to but there was no helping it.

The women seemed not to take offense, tittering and giggling as they tended to their myriad felines. The entire roadside was filled with mewling and purring and piteous crying from the tiniest kittens.

He turned his attention to the man standing patiently and fondly over all of them. "Uh...good day to you, Sir. Ladies."

They all laughed, exchanging smiles, returning his greeting.

"Where are you going, my fine lad? You look, if you'll pardon me, quite wretched." The man had a large mustache and towered over everything. He looked as though he could easily pick up the tree before which he stood and pitch it into the nearby river with very little effort.

"Now, darling," a dark-haired woman said firmly. "You're being rude."

"Sorry, peach."

Quincy smiled. "Not at all. I am quite wretchd; there's no harm done in stating the obvious. I am going to St. Ives."

"St. Ives. Quite fine, I hear."

"Yes," Quincy said softly. "Quite fine, indeed."

"Ah, the source of the wretchedness." The word were spoken by a tiny, pretty woman with pale blond curls. Her lap was full of restless kitten, and she pet them with loving patience.

Quincy smiled faintly, knowing this time the expression was pained. "I have apologies to make, and if I'm lucky I will be allowed to make them."

"You should take a gift," said a lovely brown-haired woman with a regal bearing. "You are empty-handed, and a man making apologies should always take a gift. Isn't that right, darling?"

The man grinned ruefully. "Quite right, plum."

A woman with red hair and brighy green eyes stood up and approached him, holding out a ginger-colored kitten. "Here. This one is a rebel, I think she will quite like a change of environment. She will be no good for what we've in mind for the rest."

Quincy burned to know exactly what they were about, but he did not want to be rude, especially when they were attempting to help him apologize to St. Ives. He took the tiny bundle hesitantly, fearing it would break in his clumsy hands. The red-haired woman smile at him and patted his cheek. "He'll be fine, just see he's given a bowl of cream once you reach St. Ives."

"Yes, miss."

The women all laughed, and the red-haired woman patted his cheek again. "Miss! La, you are a sweetie. I can't imagine what a sweetheart like you could have done wrong, but I would forgive you."

"Thank you," Quincy said, smiling.

As the red-haired woman resumed her seat, a woman with light brown hair cut so short she almost looked like a boy approached. She clucked as she looked him over. "Your hair is beautiful, like a raven's wing truly, but so messy..." She immediately set to work combing through and smoothing his hair with her fingers, fussing over his dark green jacket and undoing his cravat to retie it 'properly'. "Your boots...ah, well. I suppose they will do. If your apology goes well, they will not be noticed anyway." She winked at him, then fussed on last time with his clothes and hair before resuming her seat.

"You can see why I'm always careful not to do anything wrong," the man said with a conspiratol grin. "You've only got one to deal with! I have seven! Don't know what I was thinking, except I'm damnably fond of the whole lot."

The woman laughed and rolled their eyes, exchanging knowing smiles and smirks.

The dark-haired woman made shooing motions at Quincy. "Get along, you. Apologies are best made sooner rather than later. I do hope all goes well for you, sweet."

"Thank you," Quincy said, touched that strangers would be so kind -- especially after he'd spent quite a long time gawking at the profusion of women and cats, and the proud man presiding over them all. "Because of you, I think he just might." He realized abruplty what he'd said and felt his cheeks heat.

But around him the woman only laughed, and the pale blonde girl cast the man a teasing look. "Seven wives, darling, but you've no pretty boys. I should like a pretty boy."

"Yes, sugar," the man said tolerantly. "We'll pick one up after we've reached our new home."

The woman all burst into teasing chatter, and somewhere in the chaos Quincy found a moment to take his leave, bowing low and bidding them good day.

In the crook of his arm the kitten was sound asleep. If she was bothered by the jarring motion of his walking along a road that had seen better days, she gave no indication.

He really wished he could have arranged for a horse instead of walking for five bloody days straight, but the trip was already costing him more than he could afford. All would be worth it, however, if St. Ives just forgave him for being a blody idiot.

Ignoring the screaming protests of his legs, Quincy pushed on.

Three hours later he wanted nothing more than to fall over in the road and die. Really, what was his hurry? St. Ives likely wouldn't be speaking to him be it five days or seven...but he didn't slow down.

The grand manor was well in view by now, and Quincy wondered suddenly if this had been a really stupid idea. It was all well and good to plan to apologize to St. Ives...but the man was a lord, after all. No doubt he didn't particularly care whether or not a simple library clerk wanted to apologize. He'd probably already found a different amusement... Quincy hunched his shoulders against that painful thought and pushed nervously at his spectacles.

He should have stopped somewhere to tidy up. He was an awful mess and a stupid clerk who would have to search for new employment upon his return to the city. What had he been thinking? Quincy faltered as he reached the steps of the front door. Why was he here? St. Ives wouldn't even remember him, not after five days. Dallying with clerks and whatall was something all nobles did. Just because it had seemed special to Quincy, who'd never given in before...and no one had bothered to tell him about the dumb bet, not until too late. He hadn't known but there was no way St. Ives would believe him...

Stupid. He was always stupid. What had he been thinking? No doubt the butler would take one look at him and direct him to the servant's entrance which Quincy should bloody well have used in the first place and oh gods what if St. Ives was with someone of his own standing? Like he should have been in the first place.

Giving in to his panic and misery, Quincy clutched the kitten close and turned away. It was going to be a long walk back...

The door opened behind him and Quincy nearly bolted, humiliated than someone had caught him retreating and oh god please say it was just a footman or--

"Matthews?"

Wondering what he'd done to the gods to make them hate him so, Quincy slowly turned around and looked up at St. Ives. Devestatingly handsome, brilliant, but so reserved Trenton Whitaker, the Marquis St. Ives. Who'd seen fit to use all the power of that charm and beauty on one lowly little clerk, who'd botched everything by finding out too late his peers in the palace had placed a bet on just how quickly he'd get St. Ives into his bed. St. Ives had found out about it first...and left without a word to anyone, save a curt note. It burned in Quincy's pocket, worn from constant reading and folding over the past five days. "M-my lord."

St. Ives regarded him with the cool, carefully controlled expression that had first caught Quincy's eye. He'd always heard the gossip about the eccentric St. Ives, how remote and standoffish he could be. Yet the first time Quincy had seen him...all he could think was that of course his face was blank. Who needed expressions with blue eyes that blazed with emotion? At the time, St. Ives had been reading a history of which Quincy was particulary fond -- and his eyes had been dark with displeaure. Able to gauge where precisely in the book he was, Quincy had not been able to keep his mouth shut.

Before long he could not remember what it was like not to converse and argue with St. Ives, to spend every moment of time he could steal with the man too good for him but far too fine to let go. The only thing better than becoming friends -- perhaps a presumption on his part, but he could not help thinking they were after a fashion -- had been becoming St. Ives' lover. Even now it hurt more than he could bear that he could smooth away the strands of silk-fine blond hair that constantly refused to be tamed. He wanted to be allowed to draw a slow smile from that face, watch the severe features soften...something he would never be able to do again.

Now he'd ruined it all, and the shadows in those so blue eyes said he had no chance of saving it. He'd never believed it would last forever...but he hadn't wanted it to end like this.

"What do you want?" St. Ives asked coldly.

Quincy ducked his head in dismay, staring at the ginger kitten in his arms. A gift. Ha! He forced himself to look up again. "I came to apologize, my lord. You've no cause to believe a word I say--"

"Your'e right. I don't."

Shame and humiliation burned in Quincy's cheeks. "I didn't know about it, my lord. I never had a clue." Quincy stared into those blue eyes, determined now that he could not escape to have his say. "I was not party to their bet. I did not know of it until you vanished..." Leaving that terse, terrible note. "I had it out with them, for what it's worth." He'd punched ever last one of the bastards, and all but avoided a blow to his own face -- though his ribs and stomach still twinged. It had cost him his place, but St. Ives need not know about that. Not that he would care if he did... "Still, I hold part of the blame. I should not have been so stupidly oblivious. They are prone to such childishness and I knew it. So I offer my most abject apologies that you were so wrongly treated by my former peers. I..." Quincy faltered, not knowing what else to say. Those eyes remained implaccable, the face hard. He had thought he could get St. Ives to soften at least a bit...

In his arms the kitten mewled piteously. Quincy started, so lost in his own thoughts he'd forgotten about it.

"What are you doing with a kitten, Matthews?'

Matthews. No longer Quincy. That was the second time St. Ives had done that. Whatever hope Quincy had left that he could reconcile things in some fashion died. He lifted the kitten and nuzzled it against his face, grateful for whatever softness he could get. "I met a man on my way here...he had several wives and a great many cats. I told them I was on my way to apologize to someone...they said I should bring a gift and gave me a kitten." He smiled faintly at the little ginger kitten, petting it as it mewled again. "They didn't give me a chance to refuse." He shrugged and tucked the kitten back in the crook of his arm. "I am sorry, truly. I also offer my apologies for interupting the ride you were about to take." He could hear the footman bringing a horse around even as he spoke. It was time for him to go, though he wasn't terribly certain how far his legs would carry him. "Goodbye, St. Ives."

He winced as he turned around, legs having gone stiff from standing still after constant movement.

"How did you get here, Matthews?"

Quincy didn't turn around. "Such a thing could hardly be of interest to you, my lord." He walked away, willing himself not to show just how much it hurt. He heard movement only a moment before strong fingers wrapped around his upper arm and jerked him to a halt, yanked him back around.

St. Ives looked at him, blue eyes dark. "You walked. Bloody hell, that would take six days."

"Five," Quincy said quietly.

"You walked here in five days?" St. Ives stared at him. "Why?"

"To apologize," Quincy said quietly, looking away beffore he was forced to see emotions he did not want to see in those blue eyes. "I didn't know. I would have tried to avoid you if I'd known we'd become the latest belowstairs bet. I'm sorry." More than he'd ever be able to express.

Especially as this entire debacle had only made him love St. Ives more. Any other noble, finding himself the object of such a bet, quietly being mocked by the servants, would have seen to it they all suffered. Instead of doing that, St. Ives had merely packed up and left. He would have been fully within in his rights to see every last person involved sacked. St. Ives wasn't like that, choosing to mostly ignore the whole affair, leaving only a note for Quincy. Most would consider it cowardice...but St. Ives hated to be a spectacle, hated being noticed more than strictly necessary. To humiliate himself further by punishing all those involved would have been unbearable for him.

Quincy pulled away from the hand still gripping his arm, started to say farewell again, but could not bring himself to do it.

Rather than let him go, however, St. Ives only tightened his grip. "You should rest for a bit. I can see you're in pain."

"I'll be fine, and anyway you said it yourself, my lord." Quincy drew the note from his pocket and held it up for St. Ives to see. "Not worth your time after all, those were your words." For the first time he allowed his anger to slip in, finally acknowledging how muc it had stung that St. Ives had not bothered to demand an explanation from him, had simply considered the affair over and left. Quincy wasn't worth much, not next to this man, but he'd deserved the right to defend himself. He'd deserved more than a cold letter. He dropped the note to the ground and looked away, voice low as he spoke. "I know I'm just a servant, my lord, but you gave me reason to think I might have been more than that to you. At the very least, you could have confronted me. I deserved that much." He finally was allowed to pull free of St. Ives grasp -- but had not taken so much as a step when he was caught up again, this time in a fierce embrace.

"Quincy..." St. Ives held him tight, pressing Quincy into his chest, arms like steel bands, and for a moment Quincy thought he felt the softest of kisses brushed against the top of his head. He did not dare to let go, too afraid something would go wrong and ruin....whatever was happening. A moment later, though, St. Ives pulled back a bit and tilted Quincy's face up. His eyes were dark, but not with anger...merely unhappiness. "It is my turn to apologize. I should not have left as I did." The briefest grimace twisted his mouth. "My whole life I have worked to avoid such gams and entanglements. I thought, with you, I had found something that was not a game but very much real. When I learned of the bet, I assumed the worst and ran home to lick my wounds. I am sorry, for you did deserve more than that."

"My lord--"

A finger was pressed to his lips, cutting him off. Hesitation and uncertainty clouded those blue eyes. "Quincy...truly, I am sorry. I probably do not deserve a second chance, but if you walked all this way then I have some hope you will be foolish enough to give it to me anyway. Unless you sincerely want to end matters, I would prefer you cease with that 'my lord' nonsense. Please."

Relief, joy, and a thousand other emotions poured through Quincy. "Trent, of course--"

He was cut off by a searing kiss, and for the first time in too many days felt as though it was a good thing to be alive. Trent kissed him dizzy, and Quincy could have stood there forever if not for the protesting howl that sprang up between them. He broke away and stared at the kitten, who mewled furiously at them for attempting to squish him.

Trent made an impatient noise and picked up the kitten by the back of its neck, all but throwing it toward the footman who had stood patiently with the horse the entire time. "Take it inside. Feed it. Return that horse to the stable." Then he was right back to kissing Quincy as though his very life depended upon it.



Stupid fsking story. It was meant to be a short, cute drabble. I'm not sure what it actually is. Other than five pages of absurdity that either needs to be hacked back down or fully fleshed out *rolls eyes at self and goes to hide away until the weather fucking warms up as obviously the cold has gotten to brain*

Also, thinking it would be a page at most, I typed it directly into semagic. So I apologize for the errors.

Comments

[melayneseahawk.livejournal.com]

Aww, so cute. I know that riddle; I had a substitute teacher in kindergarten who used to tell it to us before the end of the day, but never told us the answer. Hee. I like this much better.

[maderr.livejournal.com]

That icon is the cutest damn thing ever.

I think I first read it in a book, and have remembered it ever since. plus, after watching diehard three forgetting it is impossible.

[tygati.livejournal.com]

EEEEEEE!!! *____* Purr. Love. Cuteness.

Much amused by the out-of-control drabble. *snicker* Am I rubbing off on you? ^___^

Only saw one obvious typo, so it's not a total oopsie. ^.~ *glomp*

[maderr.livejournal.com]

Heh. You must be ^^;;

<<333

[(Anonymous)]

this is really very good. there are a few errors, but not many and it doesn't detract from the story. flesh it out, this is an intriguing story.

[maderr.livejournal.com]

Thankee ^__^ Perhaps I will at some point.

[twilight-angel.livejournal.com]

I love both the story and the riddle. I told my suitemate the riddle, and she started complaining about how she couldn't multiply that high in her head. Also, I don't think I'll ever get over how you can take something like this riddle or the nursery rhyme from Sixpence and turn in into a story.

<3's.

[maderr.livejournal.com]

I love it when people start counting. Then realize. It's such a fun riddle.

Personally I wonder how long I have until Mother Goose and Co. invite me to a lynching party.

[naatz.livejournal.com]

Aw, but I liked these five pages. :) Well, I'd have loved to see more of the man with seven wives, but hee!

And only one person went to St. Ives. ^_^

|Meduza|

[maderr.livejournal.com]

Hee ^__^ I was sorely tempted to do more with them, but they seemed better as is.

[wobblygoblin.livejournal.com]

That kitten better scratch the hell out of St. Ives for such rough treatment! If I were St. Ives I'd be careful not to walk around naked. ;)

The angst was so very angsty in this one! I felt a phantom tightening of my chest.

[maderr.livejournal.com]

I'm fairly certain the kitten will have his revenge.

Heh.

[wobblygoblin.livejournal.com]

*eyebrow arch* That "heh" at the end seemed very telling.

[stardance.livejournal.com]

That riddle was in one of the zillions of books of nursery rhymes I had as a child :D but I think I know every nursery rhyme known to man.

I like this. Keep it. :D

[kimper.livejournal.com]

Awwww. That was very nicely done hun. Very wonderful indeed. I really enjoyed it. *huggles* :)

[abraxas-life.livejournal.com]

The riddle does actually sound vaguely familiar.
But awwww, that was so cute! I don't know why, but I'm completely in love with the kitten. I love men with kittens.


-----

The woman laughed and rolled their eyes, exchanging knowing smiles and smirks.

The darkh-haired woman made shooing motions at Quincy

[emthornhill.livejournal.com]

Somebody must be mad at the roommates cat again? LOL! yea, kinda cringed on that one, other than that the story flowed flawlessly and proved to be very romantic!

As for the riddle, I've never heard of it.

[cairnsy.livejournal.com]

Heh... this is going to sound totally random and even worse has nothing to do with the story (but only because Im racing out) but do you happen　TOknow　anyone staying in Tokyo at the moment? Its just that when I checked the drop down menu in explorer so that I could get back to a page Id already been to, your journal came up as a page that someone at my ryokan had gone to. Which　I found humerous and a little weird *grin*

[maderr.livejournal.com]

No one in Tokyo, though abiona_sashenka is in Japan and has been for the last few years. She's attempting to beat the English language into recalcitrant students.

[cairnsy.livejournal.com]

Which means then that you have a secret fan who is currently staying in the same building as me. Oooh.

[amiko-16.livejournal.com]

that's an old riddle o__O
yeah, i've heard it before XD answer is one, ja?

[cynbaby.livejournal.com]

I know that riddle. My grandfather used to try and make me say it. I never could without stumbling over the words.

[sporkess.livejournal.com]

Okay. So here's me being incredibly brave and actually commenting here for the first time. (The bravery part is because you frighten me, in an oh-my-god-I-worship-the-ground-she-walks-on-and-what-if-she-thinks-I'm-stalking-her? way.) But I've been trying to pluck up my courage for a long time, and now I have to comment and say curse you, for I am already trying to complete far too many stories (and instead am watching too much TV) and now you have made me go "Ooh, nursery rhymes into stories! Fun!" and I just spent the last five minutes trying to make Georgie Porgie into a character I like. (I failed at it. I'll have to find a new nursery rhyme.)

Anyway, I liked the idea of St Ives being a person rather than a place (although I like St Ives as a place as well, just because it has tiny cobbled streets and the best restaurant in the known world that is impossible to find except by being blown down three back roads by a storm and going through a tiny little door) and I liked the story, too, although I noted quite a few typos, so I figure you didn't spellcheck. I don't actually think it needs fleshing out all that much, although I'm always keen to read anything you write.

So. Just going to finish by saying, please don't think I'm a scary stalker person! I am, but I do it out of love.

[maderr.livejournal.com]

I've been too lazy to go back and spellcheck it ^^;; You have shamed me sufficiently, I shall go and be a proper little writer and edit my work, hee.

St. Ives sounds like fun.

Hmm, Georgie Porgie...

<3 Thanks for commenting ^___^ All should feel free to harass me. You'll notice the usual suspects have no trouble brow beating me whatsoever. Do join the crowd.

[sporkess.livejournal.com]

I'm always afraid that if I comment on someone's LJ out of the blue they shall immediately friends-lock their journal. And then how could I live my life vicariously through others? But in the future I will comment on your work, and I'll even try to keep the brow beating to a minimum.

unrelated

[(Anonymous)]

I'm sorry that this is completely irrelevant but I've always wondered who those two in your icon are. Been bugging me for ages.

Re: unrelated

[maderr.livejournal.com]

This one? Zelgadiss and Xellos from Slayers.

[raielchan.livejournal.com]

I believe I got this queston wrong when asked on a quiz, and I believe this isn't the "correct" answer.

I say one. Because the narrarator has only said definitively that, "I was going to St. Ives." We don't know where the people he met were going. And since "was" was used, we don't even know that he actually got there. Maybe he was going but later decided against it.

I'm curious as to what the answer was supposed to be.

[mechante-fille.livejournal.com]

Eiee!!! *loves* I just adore the poor plight of Quincy and Trent. How awful for them both, to have been the subject of a bet and gossip. Yay, happy ending!

And the man and his wives and the cats! I am in awe of the personalities that you gave them in just that brief encounter.

Also, all the cats reminded me of the Cat Wrangler commercial. These guys are my dogs idols. She tries hard to live up to their example.

[mailechan.livejournal.com]

It was cute! Oh, it was sooooo cute! I love how you make little fairy tales and bits of rhyme into full-blown stories with characters and plot and everything.

And boy, that was incoherent, wasn't it? But I loved it sooooo much! *love, love, love*

"Not at all. I am quite wretchd... That was the only spelling error I saw.

This one is a rebel, I think she will quite like a change of environment.
"He'll be fine, just see he's given a bowl of cream... The gender of the kitten keeps changing.

The woman laughed and rolled their eyes, exchanging I think you mean "women"?

[kiyoshi-chan.livejournal.com]

^______________^ So utterly adorable. And awwwwwwwww, Quincy is a WOOBIE! XD

I love the man and his seven wives, honestly. XD

[suspendisbelief.livejournal.com]

^_^; guess I'm part of the 'everyone' that haven't heard of this riddle before.

Please develop it. Loved the angst you had going on.

I thought it was funny how the towering man refered to his wives with the names of fruits. Did you have all seven fruits thought out?

Poor kitten being carelessly treated by St. Ives, it would be fun to read the revenge it enacts.

[miikarin.livejournal.com]

that riddle! I haven't heard it in a while!

your stories from riddles and rhymes make my day. *luv*

[phoenix-rinna.livejournal.com]

WOW>

I LOVE you for slashing a riddle. That is just - so amazing I can't get over it. You are amazing

I actually have heard the riddle, and/or riddles with a similar theme. Now, I'll nbever be able to hear it again without thinking of this. Which actually makes me rather hope I'll hear it again...

[ynm.livejournal.com]

It's 5 pages of everything good in this world! Do not hack it down! Longer is better~ Ah, regency romances...tall, dark, handsome, strong, silent, rich, powerful lord gets the girl guy. My favourite!

[animeartistjo.livejournal.com]

Even if you hate this fic, I love it. It's fantastic how you just took what you intended to be a drabble and ran wild with it! Too long? I think it's the perfect length, if not a bit short! But then, I am addicted you your slash stories! *bows*

[skylark97.livejournal.com]

La! I've never heard of it either, but you're like the encyclopedia of nursery rhymes, so...^_^;;

GYAH!!! *____________________* It's so pretty and angsty and I loves it. *huggles Quincy* I think you're drabbles should go awry more often if this is the result. ^_^ I was all set to kick St. Ives in a lot of places, and yet you still made him sweet and uncertain and ohmygodtheymakemyheartmelt. *____*!!

*twirls you about* You rock the universe! ^________________^!!!

[hippiechiq.livejournal.com]

Eee! Love it muchly!

I remember that riddle... ah, that brings back a whole slew of nursery rhyme-related memories...

[aqua-eyes.livejournal.com]

Hee! I knew that one, but I didn't remember the answer. And yey! Rhyme slash! <3<3

[avalon13.livejournal.com]

2800

[(Anonymous)]

2802, counting the man and you.

[(Anonymous)]

oh dang, only one person went.

[indigoraven.livejournal.com]

And I, being such an avid Die Hard fan, could not fail to recognize the riddle. ;->

Love the story, too. Rather cute.

[maderr.livejournal.com]

The riddle scene is my favorite part of that damn movie. They're so fucking funny.