15min fic #38
Sep. 15th, 2004 04:30 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annarti.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
yrae
Title~ Seamstress
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 38. Nol's mummy likes dresses. Yep. That she does. And she doesn't like her Own, apparently. Honestly, using one of them as an escort and calling him 'servant', poor guy ^^;
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The Raykinian queen rode proudly on the back of her camel, glancing down with disdain at the rabble that parted before her as she moved through the marketplace. Most people bowed before their monarch, but there were a number who turned their backs on her to attend to other business. These select few put Alurié in a sour mood.
“Majesty?” The queen turned her gaze on the palace servant who habitually led her camel. He was not a tall man, but the array of glittering daggers that decorated his belt made him quite formidable to anyone who chose to cross the queen. There was a reason Alurié had permitted the man entrance to the elite group of fifteen who called themselves the Queen’s Own.
“We have arrived, Majesty.”
The queen gave a curt nod of her head to indicate she was ready for the camel to kneel down, then gripped the animal’s fur tightly. It was impossible to make a graceful decent from the awkward creature, but Alurié did her best.
The servant held one hand out for her to take, then she flowed into the small shop.
The seamstress’ walls were draped with finely woven silks in a beautiful array of colours, and the queen couldn’t help but run her fingers over the fabrics while waiting for the seamstress to appear.
“Her Majesty, Queen Alurié,” the servant announced, evidently hoping this would draw the woman out before his queen grew annoyed.
Soon enough, a small, middle-aged woman appeared from a door at the back of the shop. Her sharply-featured face wore a look of scepticism, but that quickly faded to one of fearful respect when the servant’s announcement was proved to be true.
“Forgive my tardiness, Highness,” she said quietly, curtseying for her queen.
“Majesty,” Alurié corrected crisply, “My mother has been in Aeia’s hands since last new moon.” She eyed the silks hanging from the walls, letting the form of address slip for the moment. “Is my dress nearing completion?”
The seamstress nodded hesitantly, “It is, Majesty.”
The queen raised her eyebrows slightly to the small woman, needing no words to send her to fetch the dress.
The seamstress returned from the back room, a bundle of pale blue silk in her hands. “The dress is all but ready, Majesty. I have but to add beads and send it to the embroiderer, then you may send someone to collect it. It shall be ready in thee days, Majesty.”
Alurié smiled in satisfaction, running her fingers over the silk. “See that it is,” she said, then swept out of the small shop, servant in tow.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 38. Nol's mummy likes dresses. Yep. That she does. And she doesn't like her Own, apparently. Honestly, using one of them as an escort and calling him 'servant', poor guy ^^;
The Raykinian queen rode proudly on the back of her camel, glancing down with disdain at the rabble that parted before her as she moved through the marketplace. Most people bowed before their monarch, but there were a number who turned their backs on her to attend to other business. These select few put Alurié in a sour mood.
“Majesty?” The queen turned her gaze on the palace servant who habitually led her camel. He was not a tall man, but the array of glittering daggers that decorated his belt made him quite formidable to anyone who chose to cross the queen. There was a reason Alurié had permitted the man entrance to the elite group of fifteen who called themselves the Queen’s Own.
“We have arrived, Majesty.”
The queen gave a curt nod of her head to indicate she was ready for the camel to kneel down, then gripped the animal’s fur tightly. It was impossible to make a graceful decent from the awkward creature, but Alurié did her best.
The servant held one hand out for her to take, then she flowed into the small shop.
The seamstress’ walls were draped with finely woven silks in a beautiful array of colours, and the queen couldn’t help but run her fingers over the fabrics while waiting for the seamstress to appear.
“Her Majesty, Queen Alurié,” the servant announced, evidently hoping this would draw the woman out before his queen grew annoyed.
Soon enough, a small, middle-aged woman appeared from a door at the back of the shop. Her sharply-featured face wore a look of scepticism, but that quickly faded to one of fearful respect when the servant’s announcement was proved to be true.
“Forgive my tardiness, Highness,” she said quietly, curtseying for her queen.
“Majesty,” Alurié corrected crisply, “My mother has been in Aeia’s hands since last new moon.” She eyed the silks hanging from the walls, letting the form of address slip for the moment. “Is my dress nearing completion?”
The seamstress nodded hesitantly, “It is, Majesty.”
The queen raised her eyebrows slightly to the small woman, needing no words to send her to fetch the dress.
The seamstress returned from the back room, a bundle of pale blue silk in her hands. “The dress is all but ready, Majesty. I have but to add beads and send it to the embroiderer, then you may send someone to collect it. It shall be ready in thee days, Majesty.”
Alurié smiled in satisfaction, running her fingers over the silk. “See that it is,” she said, then swept out of the small shop, servant in tow.