A BP&G adventure - Pockets; Heretic
Jun. 22nd, 2008 01:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
joegodaThe day blossomed bright and cheery. Bags stretched luxuriously on the bed, and noticed immediately that Grizelda was not in the bed with him. He swung his long legs over the side and stood, stretching again.
The bed was a bit over sized and the mattress had been stuffed with some sort of soft grass which rustled when sat upon. It was a majestic thing, the frame of thick dark wood standing above the floor on four sturdy posts. It was over one of these posts that Bags had slung his Neverfull bag, a gift from Pockets that followed him everywhere.
He pulled his boots from beneath the bed and turned them upside down, knocking them against the wooden frame. It was an old habit, something he picked up during his mercenary days fighting in the desert. His mind flashed briefly backwards to those days and the friends he made, now probably long gone or dead. He also remembered the enemies he made, and shook his head. Too many of them, for sure... friends and enemies.
He dropped his boots and pulled his shirt over his head. Something snagged in his curly reddish hair, and he instinctively reached up and plucked it away. Instead of the scorpion or spider he was expecting, it turned out to be a note from Grizelda pinned to his collar.
"Bags, dear," she wrote, "don't forget to dress nice. We have a royal command performance to attend. I've laid out your blue shirt with the Tears seal on it, your beige trousers and your fancy sword belt. Try to put on a happy face, all right? Love you, Griz."
"Damn," Bags said. "I wonder where she found a place to pack these things." He looked over at the massive dresser that matched the bed and sure enough, there was his fancy dress shirt and trousers. It wasn't so bad to wear; it was just a bit scratchy around the neck because the Royal Seal was embroidered using real gold thread.
The Royal Seal was a red shield diagonally, from top left to bottom right cut by a blue stripe. On the left side of the stripe was a single stalk of wheat, done in gold, and on the right side was an image of the tree that had stood inside of the Mansion, also done in gold. In tiny letters were the words "From Sorrow to Joy", spelled out across the bottom of the shield. It was a design that had been submitted by seven year old Harriet Potter, one of the children who attended the Journiey School back in the Kingdom.
"I hate these sorts of things." He removed his shirt, and replaced it with the one on the dresser. He pulled on the trousers and drew the dark blue leggings up and over the pant cuffs, folding the tops of the leggings down and securing them with garters, also bearing the royal Seal of Tears. He tightened his belt, fixed the scabbard so that the sword, a highly decorated and not quite usable decoration, was at a place where it showed its gilt and flash the best.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and nodded to himself. He did look good. The blue and beige set off his ruddy complexion and his reddish hair, and made him on striking and kingly figure. The bit of grey that had settled into his temples did nothing bad, and in fact worked to his advantage, giving him the appearance of being wiser than he usually felt.
He sat back on the bed and pulled one of his boots on. He frowned, because even though the boots were his fancy fighting boots, the ones that came up above his knees and were made of tough leather, they simply did not look good with the rest of his outfit. He pulled the boot off and looked around. If Grizelda had had the foresight to lay out his fancy duds, then she had probably found some decent foot wear for him too.
He bend down and looked under the bed. There wasn't any thing except dust and more dust. He looked around the dresser, where he had found his fancy dress. Nothing. Well, there wasn't anything to do but to ask Grizelda about it. He opened the door to the bedroom and stepped out into the hallway.
"Griz!" He called out. He could hear sounds of pots banging in the kitchen, so he moved that direction. "Griz, I'm looking for those stupid sandals that go with the rest of these fancy clothes. You know, the ones that lace up?"
He reached the main room, the large part of the building that made the barn look more like a barn. There had been furniture added since last night. Two long benches flanked a low table and a couple of chairs had been placed at either end. The furniture, sitting in the center of the living area, was dwarfed by the size of the room but they did add a bit more... human quality to it.
Capitani, Thom and Bren were on one of the long benches, facing away from Bags as he entered. Breakfast, consisting of platters heaped with pancakes, browned potatoes and sweets had been placed on the table, and the family were talking quietly to themselves while they ate.
Capitani's family seemed to be in good spirits. Bags got the impression that an agreement had been reached about Bren attending the University in Overhill, judging from the way that Capitani was nodding happily to something Bren was saying. They, like he, were dressed in their finery.
Capitani wore a long flowing gown, green in color and high necked with long sleeves. Her strawberry blond hair piled up on her head gave her the impression of being a tall and animated thistle in full bloom.
Thom wore a long coat and trousers, blue and trimmed with gold. Under the coat he wore a soft beige broadcloth high collar shirt. Embroidered on left breast, over the heart, of the shirt was the Seal of Tears.
Bren wore a blue short coat, and short pants. His shirt matched his father's.
"Hi guys," Bags said. "Have you seen Grizelda?"
Thom turned first and nodded at Bags. "Good morning, your majesty. I think the Queen is in the kitchen with Cookie."
Capitani put down a bite of pancake, rose and came over to where Bags stood. She walked around him, giving him an appraising eye. When she was satisfied with what she saw, she curtsied to him, and then threw her arms around his neck.
"Good morning, Sunshine!” She said, beaming. "You look great!" She pulled away from Bags and twirled once, letting her gown fly out away from her like an umbrella. "Don't we look great? Peter sent these clothes over for us. He sent yours too. And wait till you see Grizelda!"
"He did, huh?" Bags scratched his head. "How did he know what to send? I mean... surely he didn't have these things just lying around somewhere."
"Oh, while you were sleeping, a team of seamstresses came by and took our measurements. Grizelda told them about the colors and the Royal Seal and all that. They treated all of us as if we were all royalty." She sighed happily. "This is the first dress I've had in... I don't know how long." Her face turned down, but just a bit. "I normally don't like dresses, but this is a special occasion! We're going to a feast!"
Bags sighed. "Yeah. I know. Griz and I are like gods to them, blah, blah, blah. I heard it all yesterday."
He started to move past Capitani, but she blocked his way. She cleared her throat and looked up at him expectantly.
"Uh.” Bags thought furiously. He knew he was supposed to say something. "Uh." All he could think of was "How's the chow?", but somehow he just didn't feel that was the right thing to say.
"How do we look?" Capitani whispered, giving him a pitying eye."
Taking his cue, Bags said loudly, "You guys look great! They did a great job, didn't they?” Turning to the kitchen, he hollered out, "Griz, you should see this! These clothes look great!"
Capitani sighed mightily, hugged Bags around the neck and kissed his cheek. "Don't over do it, silly man." She left him and went back to join her family on the bench.
Grizelda came out of the kitchen, wiping flour from her hands. She wore an incredibly oversized apron over her dress. "Capitani told you to say that, didn't she?" When Bags didn't answer, she just shrugged and said, "Men. Gotta hit them with something hard to get them to notice."
Grizelda moved across the huge room and gave Bags her version of good morning, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him mightily. When she was done and they were both out of breath, she murmured "Morning, Hon." She untied the apron and pulled it over her head, causing her brown hair to cascade in a waterfall around her face.
Bags took his time as he wiped his idiots grin off his face and murmured back, "Morning, Griz. I know I came out here for a reason, but I'll be damned if I can remember it now." He let his eyes roam up and down Grizelda's dress, and he came back up with an even wider grin than before. "Griz, you look... incredible."
Grizelda was dressed, not in her green gown of yesterday, but of a greener, newer gown of today. It had fluted and windowed sleeves that she had pushed up to get them out of the way of her baking, but now rolled down to her wrists. It, like Capitani's, was high necked and flowed down to the floor. The bodice was open to show off her ample bosom, and the waist was tailored to give her the appearance of being a much thinner woman than she was. Delicate leaves and stems were embroidered along the hem and neckline, and over her left breast was the Royal Seal.
She flushed mightily, and curtsied to her husband. "Why, thank you, good sir. You don't look so bad yourself." She twirled around, to show off the lines of her gown. "They did do a good job, didn't they? And so quick, too. All this in just over a couple of hours. They must sew like demons and have an army of helpers."
She stepped forward and tugged and pulled on Bags' coat sleeve, checking the fit. "I'm glad it fit you. Looks just like your old one, back in Tears, doesn't it?"
Bags nodded. "Yeah. It does. I was wondering where you packed it. I didn't think you had room or time to..." A thought flashed in his head and he snapped his fingers. "Sandals! That's what I came out here for. My boots look kind of ratty compared to this getup. I came out to ask you if you knew where my sandals were."
Grizelda cleared her throat. "Well, there was a little problem there, Bags." Her cheeks grew red with embarrassment. "These people don't wear shoes. They're centaurs, so they had no way to make them. They don't have a cobbler. We'll have to go barefooted."
Bags looked down at her feet. Sure enough, she wasn't wearing any shoes. He looked over at Thom's family. "You guys don't have any shoes either?" he asked.
"Not a one of us," Thom said. "I was going to wear my own boots, but Grizelda said it would make a larger statement if we didn't."
Bags turned back to his wife. "Oh? A larger statement?" She nodded, which prompted him to ask, "and what statement would that be, Griz? That we are so poor that we can't afford shoes?"
"No Bags," Grizelda shook her head. "I thought it would make the statement that, regardless of what the people of Overhill thought about us, we aren't Gods, we're just plain folk. Not to proud to show up barefoot, not to proud to be just one of them."
"But... Griz!" Bags lifted one of his big feet up. "I can't go barefoot. It's just not something I do." He got his patented hangdog face and looked at his wife. "Really, Griz. A soldier without so much as a sandal? It's unthinkable. It's not... it's just not right!"
Grizelda gave her husband a long look. There were times she knew that she could, with just a bit of a push, just a bit of a pout, get him to do things he would rather not do. There were other times when she knew she shouldn't push the matter. This was, she could tell, one of those times. Bags had never gone with out footwear of some sort, and he was right. A soldier without footwear might as well be a crippled soldier.
I wonder," she said, "if we could shine your boots up a bit. You know, your fancy ones, the ones you have with you? We could tuck your trousers into them, and maybe flounce them up a bit." She kneeled before him and played with the pant cuffs a bit. "Go get your boots on, Bags. You're right. You look only half dressed without them." She stood and sighed. "We'll make it work. Somehow."
Bags disappeared back into the hallway and came back, wearing his boots. The pant legs were tucked down into them, and though it didn't look quite right, it would do.
Grizelda gave him the eye, thought of something, thought better of it, and nodded. "Cookie?” She called back into the kitchen. "Could you bring some bacon fat, please?" She looked at Bags and grinned. "Well, the least we could do is make them shine."
The bed was a bit over sized and the mattress had been stuffed with some sort of soft grass which rustled when sat upon. It was a majestic thing, the frame of thick dark wood standing above the floor on four sturdy posts. It was over one of these posts that Bags had slung his Neverfull bag, a gift from Pockets that followed him everywhere.
He pulled his boots from beneath the bed and turned them upside down, knocking them against the wooden frame. It was an old habit, something he picked up during his mercenary days fighting in the desert. His mind flashed briefly backwards to those days and the friends he made, now probably long gone or dead. He also remembered the enemies he made, and shook his head. Too many of them, for sure... friends and enemies.
He dropped his boots and pulled his shirt over his head. Something snagged in his curly reddish hair, and he instinctively reached up and plucked it away. Instead of the scorpion or spider he was expecting, it turned out to be a note from Grizelda pinned to his collar.
"Bags, dear," she wrote, "don't forget to dress nice. We have a royal command performance to attend. I've laid out your blue shirt with the Tears seal on it, your beige trousers and your fancy sword belt. Try to put on a happy face, all right? Love you, Griz."
"Damn," Bags said. "I wonder where she found a place to pack these things." He looked over at the massive dresser that matched the bed and sure enough, there was his fancy dress shirt and trousers. It wasn't so bad to wear; it was just a bit scratchy around the neck because the Royal Seal was embroidered using real gold thread.
The Royal Seal was a red shield diagonally, from top left to bottom right cut by a blue stripe. On the left side of the stripe was a single stalk of wheat, done in gold, and on the right side was an image of the tree that had stood inside of the Mansion, also done in gold. In tiny letters were the words "From Sorrow to Joy", spelled out across the bottom of the shield. It was a design that had been submitted by seven year old Harriet Potter, one of the children who attended the Journiey School back in the Kingdom.
"I hate these sorts of things." He removed his shirt, and replaced it with the one on the dresser. He pulled on the trousers and drew the dark blue leggings up and over the pant cuffs, folding the tops of the leggings down and securing them with garters, also bearing the royal Seal of Tears. He tightened his belt, fixed the scabbard so that the sword, a highly decorated and not quite usable decoration, was at a place where it showed its gilt and flash the best.
He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and nodded to himself. He did look good. The blue and beige set off his ruddy complexion and his reddish hair, and made him on striking and kingly figure. The bit of grey that had settled into his temples did nothing bad, and in fact worked to his advantage, giving him the appearance of being wiser than he usually felt.
He sat back on the bed and pulled one of his boots on. He frowned, because even though the boots were his fancy fighting boots, the ones that came up above his knees and were made of tough leather, they simply did not look good with the rest of his outfit. He pulled the boot off and looked around. If Grizelda had had the foresight to lay out his fancy duds, then she had probably found some decent foot wear for him too.
He bend down and looked under the bed. There wasn't any thing except dust and more dust. He looked around the dresser, where he had found his fancy dress. Nothing. Well, there wasn't anything to do but to ask Grizelda about it. He opened the door to the bedroom and stepped out into the hallway.
"Griz!" He called out. He could hear sounds of pots banging in the kitchen, so he moved that direction. "Griz, I'm looking for those stupid sandals that go with the rest of these fancy clothes. You know, the ones that lace up?"
He reached the main room, the large part of the building that made the barn look more like a barn. There had been furniture added since last night. Two long benches flanked a low table and a couple of chairs had been placed at either end. The furniture, sitting in the center of the living area, was dwarfed by the size of the room but they did add a bit more... human quality to it.
Capitani, Thom and Bren were on one of the long benches, facing away from Bags as he entered. Breakfast, consisting of platters heaped with pancakes, browned potatoes and sweets had been placed on the table, and the family were talking quietly to themselves while they ate.
Capitani's family seemed to be in good spirits. Bags got the impression that an agreement had been reached about Bren attending the University in Overhill, judging from the way that Capitani was nodding happily to something Bren was saying. They, like he, were dressed in their finery.
Capitani wore a long flowing gown, green in color and high necked with long sleeves. Her strawberry blond hair piled up on her head gave her the impression of being a tall and animated thistle in full bloom.
Thom wore a long coat and trousers, blue and trimmed with gold. Under the coat he wore a soft beige broadcloth high collar shirt. Embroidered on left breast, over the heart, of the shirt was the Seal of Tears.
Bren wore a blue short coat, and short pants. His shirt matched his father's.
"Hi guys," Bags said. "Have you seen Grizelda?"
Thom turned first and nodded at Bags. "Good morning, your majesty. I think the Queen is in the kitchen with Cookie."
Capitani put down a bite of pancake, rose and came over to where Bags stood. She walked around him, giving him an appraising eye. When she was satisfied with what she saw, she curtsied to him, and then threw her arms around his neck.
"Good morning, Sunshine!” She said, beaming. "You look great!" She pulled away from Bags and twirled once, letting her gown fly out away from her like an umbrella. "Don't we look great? Peter sent these clothes over for us. He sent yours too. And wait till you see Grizelda!"
"He did, huh?" Bags scratched his head. "How did he know what to send? I mean... surely he didn't have these things just lying around somewhere."
"Oh, while you were sleeping, a team of seamstresses came by and took our measurements. Grizelda told them about the colors and the Royal Seal and all that. They treated all of us as if we were all royalty." She sighed happily. "This is the first dress I've had in... I don't know how long." Her face turned down, but just a bit. "I normally don't like dresses, but this is a special occasion! We're going to a feast!"
Bags sighed. "Yeah. I know. Griz and I are like gods to them, blah, blah, blah. I heard it all yesterday."
He started to move past Capitani, but she blocked his way. She cleared her throat and looked up at him expectantly.
"Uh.” Bags thought furiously. He knew he was supposed to say something. "Uh." All he could think of was "How's the chow?", but somehow he just didn't feel that was the right thing to say.
"How do we look?" Capitani whispered, giving him a pitying eye."
Taking his cue, Bags said loudly, "You guys look great! They did a great job, didn't they?” Turning to the kitchen, he hollered out, "Griz, you should see this! These clothes look great!"
Capitani sighed mightily, hugged Bags around the neck and kissed his cheek. "Don't over do it, silly man." She left him and went back to join her family on the bench.
Grizelda came out of the kitchen, wiping flour from her hands. She wore an incredibly oversized apron over her dress. "Capitani told you to say that, didn't she?" When Bags didn't answer, she just shrugged and said, "Men. Gotta hit them with something hard to get them to notice."
Grizelda moved across the huge room and gave Bags her version of good morning, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him mightily. When she was done and they were both out of breath, she murmured "Morning, Hon." She untied the apron and pulled it over her head, causing her brown hair to cascade in a waterfall around her face.
Bags took his time as he wiped his idiots grin off his face and murmured back, "Morning, Griz. I know I came out here for a reason, but I'll be damned if I can remember it now." He let his eyes roam up and down Grizelda's dress, and he came back up with an even wider grin than before. "Griz, you look... incredible."
Grizelda was dressed, not in her green gown of yesterday, but of a greener, newer gown of today. It had fluted and windowed sleeves that she had pushed up to get them out of the way of her baking, but now rolled down to her wrists. It, like Capitani's, was high necked and flowed down to the floor. The bodice was open to show off her ample bosom, and the waist was tailored to give her the appearance of being a much thinner woman than she was. Delicate leaves and stems were embroidered along the hem and neckline, and over her left breast was the Royal Seal.
She flushed mightily, and curtsied to her husband. "Why, thank you, good sir. You don't look so bad yourself." She twirled around, to show off the lines of her gown. "They did do a good job, didn't they? And so quick, too. All this in just over a couple of hours. They must sew like demons and have an army of helpers."
She stepped forward and tugged and pulled on Bags' coat sleeve, checking the fit. "I'm glad it fit you. Looks just like your old one, back in Tears, doesn't it?"
Bags nodded. "Yeah. It does. I was wondering where you packed it. I didn't think you had room or time to..." A thought flashed in his head and he snapped his fingers. "Sandals! That's what I came out here for. My boots look kind of ratty compared to this getup. I came out to ask you if you knew where my sandals were."
Grizelda cleared her throat. "Well, there was a little problem there, Bags." Her cheeks grew red with embarrassment. "These people don't wear shoes. They're centaurs, so they had no way to make them. They don't have a cobbler. We'll have to go barefooted."
Bags looked down at her feet. Sure enough, she wasn't wearing any shoes. He looked over at Thom's family. "You guys don't have any shoes either?" he asked.
"Not a one of us," Thom said. "I was going to wear my own boots, but Grizelda said it would make a larger statement if we didn't."
Bags turned back to his wife. "Oh? A larger statement?" She nodded, which prompted him to ask, "and what statement would that be, Griz? That we are so poor that we can't afford shoes?"
"No Bags," Grizelda shook her head. "I thought it would make the statement that, regardless of what the people of Overhill thought about us, we aren't Gods, we're just plain folk. Not to proud to show up barefoot, not to proud to be just one of them."
"But... Griz!" Bags lifted one of his big feet up. "I can't go barefoot. It's just not something I do." He got his patented hangdog face and looked at his wife. "Really, Griz. A soldier without so much as a sandal? It's unthinkable. It's not... it's just not right!"
Grizelda gave her husband a long look. There were times she knew that she could, with just a bit of a push, just a bit of a pout, get him to do things he would rather not do. There were other times when she knew she shouldn't push the matter. This was, she could tell, one of those times. Bags had never gone with out footwear of some sort, and he was right. A soldier without footwear might as well be a crippled soldier.
I wonder," she said, "if we could shine your boots up a bit. You know, your fancy ones, the ones you have with you? We could tuck your trousers into them, and maybe flounce them up a bit." She kneeled before him and played with the pant cuffs a bit. "Go get your boots on, Bags. You're right. You look only half dressed without them." She stood and sighed. "We'll make it work. Somehow."
Bags disappeared back into the hallway and came back, wearing his boots. The pant legs were tucked down into them, and though it didn't look quite right, it would do.
Grizelda gave him the eye, thought of something, thought better of it, and nodded. "Cookie?” She called back into the kitchen. "Could you bring some bacon fat, please?" She looked at Bags and grinned. "Well, the least we could do is make them shine."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-22 04:48 pm (UTC)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I know how you struggle with clothing descriptions.... I think you did marvelously well! And hey! I got to wear GREEN! *grin* And yes.... *LOL* ... sometimes my hair, put up, does kinda resemble a thistle! *LOL* Too funny!!
Well done! And now you can move on to something easier and more fun for you!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-06-22 09:18 pm (UTC)Thank you for story!