Vermilion ~ Nine: Cobbler

[annarti.livejournal.com]

She should be having lunch now, her stomach told her with another grumble, but the cobbler was so near to finishing the master’s new boots that she simply couldn’t leave them alone. They needed only to be stained once, maybe twice more, then polished, and they would be ready to deliver to the castle.

She rolled her shoulders and tipped her head back as she took a deep breath of the heady autumn air. She loved to work outside on days like these, especially as winter drew nearer and the pleasant days became fewer. Today was particularly interesting as she watched the various lords and ladies walk past. Their boots were fabulous, and already she had sketched a few ideas she had gleaned from them.

She took up her black staining sponge and dipped it into its matching stain. The leather already had two coats, but Master Vermilion liked his boots to be as black as she could make them, and he was happy to pay the extra, too. The cobbler worked the stain into the leather, catching its shine against the sunlight so she could be sure she didn’t miss anything.

‘You’re the cobbler?’

The cobbler glanced away from her work, first at the speaker’s boots—fabulously white and highly polished with bright stones of turquoise set into the leather like bubbles—then up to the woman’s face. She was as elegant as her boots suggested, hair pulled severely back from her face into a mass of pampered blonde curls.

‘At your service, my lady,’ the cobbler confirmed with a polite nod, but already she knew she didn’t want to deal with the woman.

‘I need a repair done,’ the lady announced without preamble. She held out a satin-gloved hand, with two of the same turquoise stones from her boots nestled in her palm. ‘These fell off my boots this morning.’

‘Of course, my lady. Just leave them on the table and I’ll—’

The woman sighed heavily enough as to be an interruption, and she made a show of looking back at the castle. ‘I need them for this afternoon. I’m taking a walk in grove behind the castle with your lord and lady.’ She gave the cobbler a significant glance, as though the mere mention of her superiors would have her jumping to her feet. ‘I need them mended now.’

The cobbler held up one hand, her fingers stained as black as the boot on her knees. ‘I wouldn’t dare,’ she said with an apologetic smile. In truth she was glad of the excuse. She bent back over her work, not daring to let the coat of stain dry before she had finished it. She needed to maintain an even coat and not leave any unsightly lines over the leather.

‘Well.’ The woman waved her other hand dismissively at the cobbler’s general appearance. ‘Go and wash up, then. Look, it won’t take long, it’s only that I wish to wear them this afternoon. And would you please do me the courtesy of looking at me when I’m speaking to you?’

The cobbler returned an increasingly strained smile, only briefly glancing up from the boot. ‘If you’ll only leave them on the table, my lady, then I can—’

‘But then what shall I wear back to the castle? No, I simply must have them mended now.’

With great effort the cobbler held onto her smile. Smother her with grace, she recited to herself, and she’ll have no choice but to return it. ‘I can only apologise, my lady. Perhaps if you were to return straight after lunch—’

She sighed again, sounding as irritated as the cobbler felt but didn’t dare show. ‘I have plans,’ she said, as though the cobbler couldn’t possibly have any of her own, then looked back at the castle. She was pretending to be more important than she actually was, the cobbler realised. If she hoped to make an impression on the lord and lady, perhaps even on Master Vermilion, she was going about it all wrong. None of Candlewood’s nobility would dare to treat their residents with such disdain.

‘My lady,’ the cobbler continued, looking up and plastering her face with concern and apology. ‘These boots are for my master to wear tonight. I couldn’t possibly put them down until they’re finished. I’m sure you understand.’

The visitor looked down at the boot in the cobbler’s hands for the first time. A brief look of anger flashed past her eyes before she glared back at the castle. She had something against the master, perhaps?

She sighed again, then straightened her shoulders and gave the cobbler a poisonous smile. ‘I’ll be telling him of your insolence, then.’ She stood silent, apparently waiting for a response from the cobbler. When she received none, she turned her tail and left, her nose held proudly in the air.

‘Please, do,’ the cobbler muttered under her breath, once the lady was well out of earshot. She shook her head with a sigh and set the stained boot on the table. One more coat for that one, and two for the left. She picked up the second boot and wetted her sponge once more.

The rhythm and the satisfaction of seeing the boots come to life eased her irritation, until she was smiling down at the first finished boot. The rich black leather gleamed in the sunlight, and she allowed herself a moment to admire it. It was some of her best work, with elaborate vine leaf patterns not only stamped, but moulded into the leather. She had studded the toes with clusters of amethysts and bright green peridot jewels, backed with silver to brighten them against the black leather, and they winked under the sunshine.

‘They’re looking fabulous!’

The cobbler smiled, glancing first at the wearer’s boots—a lesser twin to those she was polishing, black and jewel studded but lacking the elaborate leatherwork—then up at Vermilion’s bright smile.

‘Master Vermili—I mean. Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, master!’ Her heart stammered at this slip in front of her master.

Vermilion only laughed at her embarrassment, waving a hand to banish it. ‘Please, my dear cobbler, I’m well aware of my nickname among the townsfolk.’ He whipped his cloak in a proud flourish, drawing a giggle from the cobbler. ‘I’ve actually come to apologise in advance,’ he said, his face stretched into an apologetic grimace. ‘For the dressing-down I’ll be giving you later this afternoon. Or possibly tomorrow, she hasn’t decided yet. In any case, please believe me when I say I’ll mean not a word of it.’

The cobbler grinned back at her master with a grin that crinkled her nose. ‘I’m not sure you could give a true dressing-down if you did mean it,’ she told him.

Vermilion set a hand over his heart, mouth wide in mock-horror. ‘I’ll have you know I can be suitably terrifying if I have the mind for it.’

‘I’m sure,’ the cobbler laughed. ‘Would you like a cup of tea? I only need to shine this one up and they’ll be ready for you to take back with you.’

The young master held his hands up and shook his head. ‘I’ve already had my fair share of cups of tea this morning, and I’m running late to luncheon as it is. Thank you for the offer, though. I may take you up on it later in the week.’

The cobbler nodded and crinkled her nose again in another smile. ‘I’d like that,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll deliver these this afternoon, then, once I’ve had lunch and cleaned up a bit.’

‘I’ll likely be otherwise engaged,’ Vermilion apologised, ‘but I thank you from the bottom of my heart and, once again, apologise profusely. The truth is, she loathes my very soul. She has eyes for my dear foster sister, you see.’

The cobbler didn’t feel any need to hide her disgust. ‘Truly?’

‘Truly,’ the young master confirmed. ‘She believes that I’m doing everything in my power to keep her away from my dear foster sister.’ He shrugged modestly. ‘She’s quite right in that belief, of course, but she believes it to be purely my fault, and not that my sister has asked this favour of me, so now she hates me for it.’ He laughed. ‘You see? I can be formidable if I set my mind to it.’

The cobbler shook her head. ‘I don’t envy the noble life,’ she admitted.

‘Don’t,’ Vermilion agreed with a shake of his head, then his rueful smile turned wistful. ‘Though it does have its positives, I’ll admit.’

A grin spread over the cobbler’s face. She had heard the rumours, and how the young master had apparently confirmed them. ‘I’m sure it does,’ she agreed. ‘Good luck this evening, Master. I’m sure she’ll feel the same by the day’s end.’

Vermilion barked an awkward laugh, and actually looked bashful for a second. ‘You, too?’ he said, then shrugged. ‘My, but news travels fast in this town.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘In any case, I really must be going. Mother will scold me something fierce for being so late, as well she might. Once again, my dear, my most sincere and profuse apologies for what is to come.’ He gave one last flourish of his red coat, then turned and treated the cobbler to the comical sight of her master running back up the hill to the castle, his coat flapping out behind him.

The cobbler giggled and watched him until he had disappeared from view. With a smile on her face, she bent back over her work.

Comments

[saiena.livejournal.com]

What a cow. I hope she gets what's coming to her.

I love these, how they weave in and out of each other and how we’re building up a fuller picture of Vermilion as seen through other’s eyes. They’re pretty nifty character sketches in their own right too.

[annarti.livejournal.com]

So many of these characters I would love to return to, to the point of giving them a name, even XD

[ladylight.livejournal.com]

I was mesmerised by the boots throughout. You must draw all this footwear at some point.

A foster sister ... the plot thickens ...

[annarti.livejournal.com]

Me and boots, man. Mesmer boots have had a very direct impact on Llayad, I tell you what.

[drazzi.livejournal.com]

Um. That cobbler picture is so adorable. HER ATTITUDE AND HER BOOTS. I love it.

Taking ideas from other's boots, what a cutie.

.... Annnnnd what a cow. Well, there have to be a few even in Llayad. I hate customers who think they are the most imortant thing and can queue jump. She needs to just listen and be patient.

Good on you cutie, for not losing your patience. <3 So many chars I want developed in this story lol

BOOT PORN.

Aw protective of the sister, so cute Vermillion <3

BUT THIS COBBLER IS SO CUTE WHY IS SHE SO ADORABLE? I LOVE HER.

[annarti.livejournal.com]

This chapter is ALL ABOUT THE BOOTS. Slightly about the cobbler, but her life is boots, so. BOOTS.

It's the crinkly nose that does it. (Also I think she has a crush on him. I forget whether I was thinking that when I wrote it but it kinda looks like it reading back over it.)