Fidget shifted and squirmed on the pillow that Dust had set aside for her. She'd been trying to wait for an opportune time to speak up, but he'd been sitting there scraping a whetstone along the edge of Ahrah's blade for long enough that she had lost track of just how long he'd been at it, and he didn't show any signs of stopping soon.

"Um, Dust?" she spoke up, sitting up. They were at a small rural inn on their travels, as they often were – when they weren't camped out somewhere. It was decently spacious and had a fair amount of furnishing. The bed frame was simple and barely raised off the ground, though it seemed sturdy, with a straw mattress and some pillows. A couple of chairs were arranged by a small table in a corner, and there was a dresser off to one side adorned with a plain clay flower vase with a single blue flower placed in it. It didn't have any of the nicer features that inns in the cities did, most notably among them it had no bathroom either attached to the room or even down the hall, and that was what Fidget needed to bring up.

Of course, it was vastly better than their usual accommodations on the road – camped out in some forest where monsters hiding in the trees might eat her. Or in caves where monsters hiding behind stalagmites might eat her. Or in the mountains where monsters hiding behind rocks might eat her. Or...

Dust scraped the whetstone along Ahrah once more. "Yes, Fidget?" he replied flatly, setting the stone down for a moment to take a sip from the cup on the floor next to him.

"I, um, need to go outside," she said in a quiet voice. The bed was too low to the ground to have a chamber pot under it – not that she would have used it with Dust right there even if there was one.

Dust gave a sigh, putting the cup down and picking up the whetstone again, not looking up from his lap where Ahrah was resting. "Can it wait?"

"I've BEEN waiting," Fidget grumbled, folding her arms. "But you've been at that for ages. Isn't Ahrah a magic sword? Why do you even need to sharpen it?"

<Have you seen what Dust puts me through?> Ahrah spoke, the runes along its side pulsing blue. <It's a wonder I don't need to be sharpened more often.>

"But... magic sword," Fidget protested weakly.

"Magic stone," Dust answered, holding up the whetstone where she could see it for a brief moment; it was glowing a little, casting a faint blue light onto his hand.

"Okay, fine, whatever, that's not important," she conceded with a shrug. "I just need your help for a moment because I can't open these doors myself."

Dust didn't rise, but simply rested the hand holding the whetstone on Ahrah's side. "You're going to keep pestering me about this until I let you out, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah," Fidget said with emphasis. "I can't just NOT go... y'know. (Don't make me say it out loud.) And the apple cider they serve here was really good, I couldn't help having an extra cup of it, and, well... I've gotta..."

Dust sighed and set Ahrah down on the floor, uncrossing his legs and standing up. "Very well, Fidget, let's get this over with."

"Thank you," she replied, getting up and flapping her wings to take off from the pillow. Dust opened the door to their room and swung it open before stepping out into the hall, a line of straw mats along the center providing a simple alternative to a carpet. With Fidget following, he headed down to the end of it where another door led outside, and turned the handle.

But even Dust had a little trouble opening it, and as he tried, Fidget could hear the wind howling outside. Eventually he was able to force the door open when the wind died down for a moment, and he waved towards the door with his other hand. It was dark out already, and Fidget could only see a short distance away from the inn, light from the nearby rooms' windows illuminating a small area outside. A short distance away was the outhouse Fidget needed, but...

"Well, go on," Dust told her when she didn't move for a moment, even though he had his hat down and she wasn't sure how he could see her. "I'm not holding this open all night."

"It's, um, really windy," Fidget observed.

"It sure is. Now hurry up."

"Uhhhh..." Fidget hesitated. 'Really windy' was an understatement, and she could barely see the occasional leaf whipping past from the force of the gale outside. She didn't want to get blown away; she was a small and very light Nimbat, after all. She was only marginally heavier than even that accursed stuffed toy modeled after her. "I, uh..."

"Come on, Fidget," Dust grumbled, his patience audibly thinning.

"You know what, I um, changed my mind, I don't need to-"

"Fidget." Dust said sharply, cutting her off. "We've been through this before. I'll help you when I have to but you need to do what you have to do."

She clenched her fists. "It's easy for you to say!"

"And? Just go."

Another heavy gust of wind tried to blow the door shut, but Dust held it open. When Fidget remained where she was, flapping her wings to stay hovered in place, Dust spoke again. "Go now, or you'll have to hold it until the morning," he issued as an ultimatum. "I'm not doing this again. This is your best chance, anyway. The storm is only getting worse."

Huffing and folding her arms, Fidget lost her temper. "Fine then! I will hold it if you're going to be like that! Don't you have any concern for me? I could get blown away or-"

But he simply pulled the door shut, partially muffling the howling wind outside, and he strode past her and back to the room. "Hey!" Fidget called out, flying after him and back into the room.

"You made your choice," he said simply as he sat back down and picked up Ahrah again.

"Hmph." Fidget landed on the pillow and sat down on it, folding her arms, then lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling. Closing her eyes, she tried to put him out of her mind, ignoring the scraping of the whetstone. She could just go to sleep and that would be the end of that.

Or at least, that was her plan. The growing ache in her bladder prevented her from drifting off, and the constant periodic scraping of Ahrah's blade didn't help at all either. Crossing her legs, she did her best to try and put it all out of her mind, rolling onto her side and putting a hand over the ear that wasn't pressed to the pillow, but it wasn't enough. Every passing minute made her need to pee worse, and the pattering of rain on the building only made it harder to hold it in.

She bit her lip, then slowly sat back up. Dust still had his back to her, and she took a deep breath. It wasn't easy, but she went over the words, then grudgingly said them aloud: "Okay, Dust, I'm sorry. I can't hold it. I'll go this time, I promise."

But he didn't lift his gaze and simply continued to sharpen the sword. "No. I told you to go then or hold it until morning, and you chose the latter."

Fidget's eyes widened, and then she glared at his back. "What- hey, that's not fair!"

"It's very fair. I gave you a choice and you took it."

"I said I'm sorry!" Fidget complained.

"And I said I wasn't going to get up and let you out again," Dust reminded her. "Besides, listen to the storm outside. I'm not going to carry you to the outhouse, open it, wait for you out in the rain, and carry you back when you're done."

"Then what am I meant to do? I can't hold it until morning!"

"Then I suggest you find somewhere around the room," he told her.

Fidget tried not to think too much about the last time she'd been in a predicament like this, and had to use a flower vase for her relief. Sadly, the vase on the dresser here was far too narrow. And besides...

"I'm not going to-"

"Just use this," Dust cut her off again, grabbing the now-empty cup he had been drinking from. He turned a little in place and set it down on the floor behind him, then faced forward again. "It should be big enough for you."

"Dust, that's not the point, I'm not going to... do that... while you're right there!" she protested emphatically. At least not while he was awake, anyway, but she didn't say that out loud. He didn't respond, instead sliding the whetstone down Ahrah's length. Standing up on the pillow but keeping her legs pressed closely together, she persisted. "And... and I'm a lady! A lady doesn't just... relieve herself around men!"

Dust failed to suppress a snort of amusement. "I would think a 'proper lady'," he teased with extra emphasis on the words, "would know how to avoid getting into these situations in the first place."

"Even a lady makes mistakes," Fidget grumbled, folding her arms. "Please, Dust..."

"I've given you a perfectly good option, and believe me, I have no desire to watch," Dust said flatly with another scrape of the whetstone. "In the time you've spent complaining about it, you could have gone already."

"Ugh! Fine!" Fidget griped, flopping onto her back again and trying to hold it. But her resolve didn't last for very long: the pressure in her abdomen was getting unbearable, and she didn't have much choice. But not having much choice, and having no choice, weren't the same thing. She didn't have to use his cup and be right behind him, if she could find somewhere else...

She glanced around. There weren't many other places she could go. Under the bed wasn't really an option; getting underneath it would be impossible due to how low to the ground it was. The chairs in the corner were in front of Dust, so that was even less of an option. But the dresser might work...

With a final look towards Dust to confirm he was still looking away from her, she flew up to the top of the dresser. As she had already noticed, the greenish vase was far too small, barely an inch across at the top. It got narrower briefly, then widened out in the middle, only to get a little smaller at the base, the whole thing resting on a square of linen cloth. Still, it would at least offer her something to hide behind, so she landed on the dresser and padded silently behind it.

Not that there was anything else there for her to use, the dresser bare of any other decorations. There was, however, a gap between the wooden wall and the back of the dresser...

Fidget took another surreptitious glance behind her, but Dust was still sharpening Ahrah. A pang in her belly reminded her that she had to do something soon, and this was likely the best option she had.

There wasn't enough space for her to fit her legs behind the dresser and sit on the edge. She could try bending and facing away from the wall, but she wasn't sure that that would work and she might just end up peeing between her feet if she tried. She wasn't confident about standing, either. But even if she couldn't hang her legs over the back, she might be able to try something else...

Fidget shuffled forward and stood at the very edge of the dresser, her toes curled over the edge as she spread her legs out and bent her knees. Putting both hands behind her to hold herself up, she spread her legs apart and pushed her hips forward as much as she could to bring them close to the wall...

But just as she was getting into position, her bladder contracted, and she couldn't do anything to stop it with her legs spread apart. She heard a quiet hissing noise as her stream gushed from her slit and struck the wall, but mercifully it simply poured down it without making any more noise, and she kept her mouth tightly shut to keep herself quiet as well. Relaxing her body rather than trying to fight the accidental release, she allowed her strained bladder to finally empty itself, the stream of her urine continuing to drench the wooden wall, pouring down it and out of sight. It would just dry out and be fine, surely...?

She exhaled deeply from the almost euphoric sensation of relieving herself after having held it in for so long, though she tensed and was briefly startled at a sound behind her, her ears swiveling back reflexively – though it was just Dust continuing to sharpen Ahrah. Relaxing again and returning her attention to the stream in front of her to make sure it didn't go off-course, she tried to spread her legs just a bit further and shuffle closer, but she was already about as close as she could get. Golden fluid continued to pour from her slit and arch to the wall, still a cohesive if unsteady stream when it impacted the wood, which had darkened substantially wherever her pee had gotten it wet.

There she remained, feet at the edge of the wardrobe with her hands under and behind her to keep her held up, wings spread out for balance. Soon enough she noticed her stream weakening, and she clenched her muscles to push out what remained in her, making her stream strong again for a moment before it ended quickly. Another couple of clenches forced out what remained inside her bladder via squirts of fluid, and when she was empty, she shuffled backwards, keeping her legs apart.

Fortunately, even though she was still a little damp, she had a solution to that right behind her. Awkwardly moving above the linen square that was underneath the flower vase, she sat down on it for a moment so she could get her hands in front of herself, then rose off of the now-wet spot in the linen into a low crouch. Grabbing a dry bit of the fabric, she wiped it against her pussy to clean off the remaining moisture, then simply let go of it and let it fall back onto the dresser.

Getting up, she flew back to the pillow and returned to her original position. "Okay, I'm done," she grumbled. No thanks to him, though.

Dust immediately twisted in place and took a glance into the cup, which was conspicuously empty. "Really, Fidget?" he asked incredulously.

"I told you I wasn't going to go right next to you! Besides, what does it matter to you?"

"I'm just saying, it doesn't seem very ladylike to make a mess in a rented room..."

Fidget narrowed her eyes and folded her arms, glaring at him. "Normally a lady is respected by those she travels with," Fidget retorted, "Who don't force her to do un-ladylike things in the first place!"

"You had the option," Dust simply replied. "But you didn't ask for something to wipe with, and a 'lady' wouldn't go around with wet thighs..."

She wanted to retort, but she didn't want to talk about what she had actually done, and she grumbled to herself, her cheeks burning. But she couldn't just claim she hadn't done anything, or say nothing! "Well, I... of course I'm not going around wet! I didn't need to tell you about it!" she eventually snapped, choosing the lesser of the two blows against her modesty. "I'm a lady regardless of what you think!"

"Then where did you go?"

"Not telling," she asserted, smirking smugly. "You'll never know."

Dust hesitated, then reached behind himself, rubbing a hand over the loose fabric of his outfit to check if it was wet.

"Nah," Fidget told him, "But you seem to be really busy sharpening Ahrah. I'm sure you don't have the time to check every last thing you own..."

He paused again, and Fidget suppressed the urge to chuckle as he looked over at his backpack. Watching him squirm would have been better, but this was still a nice consolation prize.

--------------------

When Fidget woke, it was almost pitch black in the room. The storm was still going strong outside, lashing rain against the window and buffeting the building with strong winds. At least it seemed built well enough to withstand them.

She could feel a twinge in her belly, but it was a very mild one. Curse that second cup of cider! Or was this the third one? But it was surely getting close to morning, so she could hold it – actually hold it, this time.

On the other hand, having to go when the morning rolled around would mean having to get Dust to open the door for her and probably get teased about what had happened the previous night, not to mention likely ending up in a queue with other inn patrons...

Grumbling, Fidget rose from the pillow that served as her bed. It would be easier to just take care of it now. Besides, Dust was asleep, and if he could sleep through the cacophony the storm was making, he wouldn't wake up while she was sneaking around.

But halfway to the dresser, someone other than Dust noticed. <Fidget.> Ahrah said simply into her mind, the pulsing of its runes lighting the room a little better.

"Ah!" she exclaimed, stopping in the air and then turning to face Ahrah. "You surprised me. I didn't expect... er, right, you don't sleep."

<I think I know why you're going back to the dresser again,> it told her, not replying to her comment.

"Uhm. Wait, you knew-"

<Of course. I simply didn't want to bring it up at the time.>

Fidget grumbled and flew over to the dresser regardless, but simply landed near the edge. <You aren't in as dire a need as you were earlier,> Ahrah commented.

"Huh? How can you tell?"

<Your mood and emotions. Also, you aren't crossing your legs.>

"Great, you have even less understanding of privacy than Dust does," she muttered in annoyance. But she sighed and went on, "Look, it's... just so bothersome to have to always rely on Dust for... um, this. My, er, needs. And it's just as irritating to have to hold it because I can't open doors or whatever else."

<And that gives you an excuse to treat your surroundings as your toilet?>

"Look, mister," Fidget retorted, taking to the air again and flying over towards him, "Just because you don't have to eat or drink or, well, you know, doesn't mean you get to judge me for it." Swooping to where the sword was lying on the floor, she landed on the crossguard of its handle. "Or are you volunteering to help me?"

<Absolutely not, Fidget, I'm simply->

"What was that? Absolutely, you said?" she remarked, putting one forward and onto the flat of the blade, lowering her hips. "Dust sharpened you, but he didn't clean you, I can always give you a quick wash..."

<Enough! Very well, go back to the wardrobe and do what you were going to do,> Ahrah insisted, glowing underneath her.

"That's better," she said as she took off again and flew back to the wardrobe. "I'll let you stay dry this time. A lady shows forgiveness."

<Of course,> Ahrah agreed. Just as she reached the wardrobe, she heard in her head, <Does a lady also present her womanhood at close range while making a threat?>

Fidget froze, realizing what she had just done while pretending to get into position. Grumbling, cheeks flushed once more, she headed for the back of the wardrobe again, too flustered to make another retort.
