At first, Tolten had been delighted to hear the word 'shower'. Much as he hated showering rather than a proper bath, he hadn't cleaned himself since arriving here. It was unsanitary! He had imagined - if he had even stopped to think about it - something like what he had experienced on the Nautilus. Narrow metal rooms that sluiced cold (at least in his case, as he was always last) water and made god-awful noises as the pipes rattles and whined.
The concept of showering with other people had never once entered the young king's mind. He had been bathed by nannies and nursemaids when he was a small boy, and perhaps by his mother before that, but from as long as he could manage to wash himself alone he had.
He didn't like people watching him under normal circumstances. He could hardly even eat with a single pair of eyes upon him. There was a...a vulnerability in being watched, even when ding normal, every day things. To be forced to strip and clean himself in full view of fellow prisoners and guards....
"Ah..." he attempted to protest to his escort, the blood draining from his face. "I don't..."
"Don't waste time trying to be modest, get undressed and in the shower." The tone left no room for argument. Torn between his need to do as he was told and follow orders and his fear of exposing himself - literally and metaphorically - he made a strained noise and began to tremble somewhat. The slight sense of purpose and sound footing he'd gained from Anise at breakfast was slipping away rapidly.
It didn't even have anything to do with exposing his body to strangers. Well, not entirely. He had nothing to be ashamed of - he knew he was handsome and well cut and without scars - but it was symbolic.
God's sake, Tolten, you can do this. He just needed to get undressed quickly, get to the nearest empty stall space, and ignore the fact he was in a room full of people. He closed his eyes and methodically stripped off his uniform, slipping into the militaristic movements he had learned as boy. He wasn't a king here, he reminded himself, he was simply a soldier. If his own men showered together in this or a similar manner - and he supposed they did, considering he had seen the steam rooms in the barracks - then he could as well.
But that didn't stop his cheeks from burning red as he awkwardly moved into the showers proper. Despite the fact that only one or two soldiers were even paying attention to him, he felt as though all eyes were on him. He made it to his goal, fumbled rapidly with the faucets, and leaned his head against the tile and under the spray. There he stood, breathing like a man who had just run a marathon.
no subject
The concept of showering with other people had never once entered the young king's mind. He had been bathed by nannies and nursemaids when he was a small boy, and perhaps by his mother before that, but from as long as he could manage to wash himself alone he had.
He didn't like people watching him under normal circumstances. He could hardly even eat with a single pair of eyes upon him. There was a...a vulnerability in being watched, even when ding normal, every day things. To be forced to strip and clean himself in full view of fellow prisoners and guards....
"Ah..." he attempted to protest to his escort, the blood draining from his face. "I don't..."
"Don't waste time trying to be modest, get undressed and in the shower." The tone left no room for argument. Torn between his need to do as he was told and follow orders and his fear of exposing himself - literally and metaphorically - he made a strained noise and began to tremble somewhat. The slight sense of purpose and sound footing he'd gained from Anise at breakfast was slipping away rapidly.
It didn't even have anything to do with exposing his body to strangers. Well, not entirely. He had nothing to be ashamed of - he knew he was handsome and well cut and without scars - but it was symbolic.
God's sake, Tolten, you can do this. He just needed to get undressed quickly, get to the nearest empty stall space, and ignore the fact he was in a room full of people. He closed his eyes and methodically stripped off his uniform, slipping into the militaristic movements he had learned as boy. He wasn't a king here, he reminded himself, he was simply a soldier. If his own men showered together in this or a similar manner - and he supposed they did, considering he had seen the steam rooms in the barracks - then he could as well.
But that didn't stop his cheeks from burning red as he awkwardly moved into the showers proper. Despite the fact that only one or two soldiers were even paying attention to him, he felt as though all eyes were on him. He made it to his goal, fumbled rapidly with the faucets, and leaned his head against the tile and under the spray. There he stood, breathing like a man who had just run a marathon.
[free]