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  • Writer's pictureHenry Cavanaugh

A Fall From Grace

Updated: Dec 15, 2018

Suggested by the wonderful @misterbostlov!

As the court jester, Gally was able to observe people while remaining mostly unseen. People saw him as nothing more than a source of comic relief, completely unaware of the true power that hid inside of his slender frame. He didn’t even require to remain looking as he did, he simply liked being smaller than many of the burly knights that surrounded him at any given moment. The castle was full of beautiful men but perhaps none, not even the king, were as beautiful as Lord Russ Peyton.

Loved by almost all throughout the kingdom, Lord Peyton had charmed his way into the king’s court and had not only had his way with the king’s sisters but also many of his servants and maids. Lord Peyton’s lust knew no boundaries, but it wasn’t simply a lust for pleasure. He desired power and began to concoct a plan that would dispose of the king and allow him to step smoothly onto the throne to take his place. With his glowing reputation, few would stand to deny him.


Unlike the rest of the people in the kingdom and the court who had been hoodwinked by the lord’s charming ways, Gally knew the truth. He had stumbled upon Lord Peyton’s treachery and knew that he couldn’t allow any harm to come to his king. A simple imprisonment didn’t feel like a fitting punishment for a man with such a cruel heart though so Gally decided to take an alternative route.


Lord Peyton quite understandably took great pride in his good looks and strong body, as both had earned him a fair bit of popularity across the kingdom. His days as a youth hunting down orcs and slaying beasts in the wilderlands had made him strong but also give him an arrogance that rarely subsided. The only person of importance in the lord’s life was himself and those that he didn’t view as sexual objects or enemies to be defeated (such as the king) were nothing more than trash to be treated as such.


It was through Lord Peyton’s treatment of the servants of the castle that Gally settled on a suitable punishment for the egotistical lord. After rudely pushing past one of the kitchen boys and knocking him to the ground, the lord saw fit to spit on the young man before marching away. Humiliated, the kitchen boy wiped away at his tears and did his best to clear up the mess he had made from the cooking supplies as a result of the collision.


The punishment was activated as early as that evening, when Lord Peyton returned to his chambers for a brief slumber before attending a party that evening. At that very party he would be making contact with a poison specialist who was going to help him assassinate the king. Within weeks he would be sitting upon the throne and adored by all - if it wasn’t for Gally, of course.


When Lord Peyton awoke some hours later, he was not underneath his comfortable silk sheets but rather rough cotton that itched his skin as he pushed himself up. His body felt frail and unprepared for the chaotic evening that would surely follow, but it didn’t take long for the lord to realize why.

He was no longer in his spacious chamber but instead in a room that could only be described as a cupboard, empty aside from the small cot he was asleep on and a tiny shelf upon which stood a candle. This was the bedroom of a servant and Peyton was utterly disgusted to find himself there.


Attempting to escape and return to his chambers, Peyton stumbled and staggered until he collided with a man much larger than himself. It took him a moment but he eventually recognized the fat man as the castle cook - only Peyton swore that the cook had never been taller or broader than him before. What had happened to cause such a change?


“Where do you think you’re going, boy?” the cook growled, grabbing Peyton by the back of his shirt. “Certainly not to the upper chambers. They don’t want your kind up there!” The statement was accompanied with a booming laugh that sent shivers down Peyton’s spine. Exactly what did the cook mean by ‘your kind’ when he was a lord in his own right? Did the cook have no idea who he was talking to or did he have some sort of death wish?

With surprising strength, the cook pulled Peyton away from the royal staircase he had been attempting to access and dragged him back towards the room he had woken in. “Now I’m expecting you in the kitchens at noon so I suggest you get some rest. I won’t have you slacking or hell, it’s to the stocks with you!”


“The stocks?” Peyton gasped, only to be startled by the weak and common voice he spoke in. It certainly wasn’t the commanding tones he was used to that spoke in the refined accent of the upper classes. “Are you mad?” The comment merely earned him a slap around the back of the head before the cook forced him back into the room.

“You better watch your mouth, boy! You don’t want me to decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth!” the cook hissed before slamming the door shut. Hopelessly confused and even somewhat scared, Peyton dropped down back onto the uncomfortable cot and willed himself to sleep. As he dropped into his weary slumber, Gally paid a visit to the room, placing a mirror on the shelf that would allow the former lord to finally see his new reflection - that of the very same kitchen boy he had humiliated earlier that day!

While the former lord toiled away in his new body, forced to work long hours as a lowly kitchen servant, the rest of the court was blissfully unaware. After all, Lord Peyton still walked among them, only it wasn’t quite the same man inside. While he still possessed a lust for the various beautiful men and women of the king’s court, he had absolutely no intention of betraying the kingdom or seizing any sort of power for himself - besides power in the bedroom.


As the days passed, the new Russ Peyton forgot everything about his former life as a servant down in the cramped cooking quarters of the king’s castle and settled into his role as a well-respected and oft-desired lord. His counterpart down in the kitchens though clung desperately onto his memories, despite the apparent impossibility of ever returning to the life he had lead so comfortably for so long. These days he could only hope that he wouldn’t be an overlooked worker for the rest of his days.


If reclaiming his body was for sure out of reach though, he couldn’t help but wish that the devilishly handsome Lord Peyton might gift him with just ten minutes of private company…

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