Agalon led Xaxac into a shop that smelled like sap and broken wood mixed with flowers. It was huge on the inside, and all one room, but set up with furniture arranged to make it look as if it had many tiny rooms. There were no walls between them, but it was very obvious what was supposed to be what. There were a few areas with beds, basins, wardrobes and the like, set up as if someone could sleep there, and other areas with tables and chairs, as if people could eat there, and still others with couches, chairs, and a strange piece of furniture that was neither a bed nor a chair that Xaxac had never seen, as if people were meant to sit there.
There were a few people inside milling around, but not nearly as many as had been in the clock-building, so Xaxac believed that fewer people needed furniture than needed papers stamped.
Agalon walked briskly to the back of the large room to a desk, but there was no one there, so he hit a little bell and a loud chime ran out. A human man came jogging up to them, positioned himself behind the desk, and smiled.
“Hello,” he said with the sort of enthusiasm that Xaxac thought must be false, “How can I help you today?”
“I’m Kailu Agalon, the Duke of the Agricultural District,” Agalon said briskly, as if the man was making him late for something, though Xaxac didn’t think he was, “I ordered a set of wardrobes over two weeks ago and they’ve not yet been delivered. I have a series of words for your master. Bring her out here.”
The man looked terrified; his eyes grew so wide Xaxac was afraid they may pop from his sockets, and his entire body began to tremble, but when he spoke, his voice had not changed at all.
“Yes sir, right away, your grace,” he said, turned, and seemed to wander off into the depths of the shop.
Xaxac cuddled in closer to Agalon and leaned over to look at the desk. There was a little book laid out there, all filled with numbers, and they all had the same symbol beside of them. They didn’t seem to be in any particular order.
Agalon put one arm on the desk and leaned on it, tapping his fingers impatiently.
“I already paid her,” he mumbled, “I shouldn’t have to do this.”
An earth elven woman came walking slowly towards the desk, and Xaxac thought that she looked rather old, a bit like Agalon when he wasn’t wearing make-up, with lines around her face, especially around her eyes, and her long, silver hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head. She was dressed in the clothes of a skilled worker, which shocked Xac. He had never known elves to work.
“What is it, Kai?” She asked as impatiently as Agalon had spoken to her slave.
“It’s ‘your grace’,” Agalon smiled his charming smile at her, and Xaxac instantly disliked the woman.
“Is it?” She asked, “People have long memories, Kai. I thought it was, ‘that dumbass who tried to pierce Felearn’s ears and got blood all over his barrack’.”
“He bled so much,” Agalon snickered, “That’s not on me. There’s somethin like, genuinely wrong with him. That boy ain’t right. Where the hell’s my wardrobes, Jerry?”
“Fuck if I know,” She said, reached onto a desk, snapped a pair of glasses open and shoved them onto her face, “Let’s see… Kai… Kai… oh, yeah, it ain’t the wardrobes, darlin, it’s the alarm clock. We run outta parts, had to wait on a shipment from the Fire Colony. They got that good ore, good for little tiny shit. It’ll be, well, hell, you’re here, I’ll expedite it. It’ll be… I can maybe send um out tomorrow.”
“You could have sent the wardrobes without the clock,” Agalon pouted, something Xaxac had never seen him do before, and he suspected it was an act. “I’ve had my clothes hangin in a guest room. Runnin my poor butler to death. Look how old he is. He can’t handle that.”
“It’s been torture,” Lee agreed in the same half-joking tone, “Look how thin I am. I’ve been run ragged. I have to go all the way across the hall. At my age. On my bad knee.”
“Dial it back,” Agalon smirked.
“Didn’t I make you a wardrobe like forty years ago?” Jerry asked, “The hell are you doin goin through um so fast?”
“I need a new one for my new pleasure slave,” Agalon motioned at Xaxac, “I wanted darker wood to compliment his color scheme.”
“All style and no substance,” She huffed, “Perfect for you.”
“Master, I’ve got a sell,” the human man from before reappeared, followed by a young earth elven couple.
“Mrs Rigg,” one of the women said with great excitement, “We absolutely love this bedroom set, you reckon we could just walk out with it?”
“We don’t sell displays,” Jerry said, turning to them and actively ending the conversation with Agalon.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” Agalon said, “Don’t forget! Tomorrow!”
“I hear you, Kai,” She said as if he were an annoyance and Agalon smiled.
Xaxac waited until they were outside the shop to voice his opinion.
“I don’t like her,” he said, and added, “Ow!” when a pain went through the back of his foot.
“Sorry,” Lee said, “Didn’t know we stopped.”
Xaxac turned to glare at him, but stopped when he took in the look on his face. Right. What the hell was wrong with him? Don’t be negative. Smile.
“Why don’t you like her?” Agalon giggled.
“Cause she’s mean to you,” Xaxac pouted, and wondered if Agalon knew it was fake. He could fake emotions too, something that Xaxac had not considered.
“That’s just her way,” Agalon said dismissively, “All old people are grumpy, Xac, we’ve had to put up with too much. There’s only so much shit anybody can put up with in a lifetime before they snap. That’s how we cope.”
“You ain’t old,” Xac said as he cuddled into his arm, “not as old as her.”
“Good god, she has let herself go,” Agalon agreed, speaking more to Lee than Xaxac, “Past twenty years she’s really let herself go, ain’t she? She didn’t used to be that bad. Looks three hundred. Knockin on death’s door. I ever let myself go like that I want you to smother me in my sleep.”
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“Reckon I ought let young master Lorsan do that, sir?” Lee asked.
“He wouldn’t have the guts,” Agalon said, “You’d put me down clean.”
“I don’t like that joke,” Xac said and buried his head in Agalon’s side, “don’t say stuff like that, Aggie. I don’t know how I’d live without you. I don’t like it.”
“You’re so sensitive,” Agalon said softly and pried his arm from Xac’s grasp to scratch his scalp as he sometimes did when he was trying to comfort him. Xaxac threw his arms around him and snuggled into his side.
“Here, Honey Bunny,” Agalon pried Xaxac’s head out of his side to force him to look at the shop in front of him, “We’re at Sakala’s. Let’s get you some nice new clothes ordered.”
This shop was one of the places Xaxac had longed to visit earlier, to press his face up against the glass. The front seemed to be all windows, which displayed large symbols he couldn’t read, but behind the glass were mannequins, false people, wearing the most beautiful clothing Xaxac had ever seen. One was a man and the other a woman, and Xaxac could not decide which he liked better. Both had slim figures that tapered at the waist, and the lady wore a skirt that seemed to be made of fabric so soft he longed to touch it, patterned with flowers over a million petticoats, with slick black boots and a vested top that ended above the elbows and was trimmed in lace. Mrs OfAgalon would find it scandalous. The top barely hid the bosom, and on a real woman would have produced a great deal of cleavage. The look was complimented by a giant hat with an entire birdhouse built onto the rim, complete with a stuffed bird that had, at one point, been alive. The gentleman wore an outfit which Xaxac had never seen before, though it reminded him of a much fancier houseslave uniform. Except the entire thing was much nicer, in a much thicker fabric, with polished black boots. The long pants would look strange on an elf only because he had never seen them before, and the white shirt under the tailcoat was somehow crisp and flowing at the same time, with ruffles of fabric descending from the neckline until it disappeared into the vest. There was some sort of gold chain going from the inside of the coat to the outside, where it disappeared into a pocket accentuated with a green handkerchief, and the mannequin wore a hat that looked nothing like a workhat, it was much taller and the brim much too small.
He loved it. He wanted it.
And he wanted the same frame as the mannequin, small and cute with substantial shoulders but a waist so small he thought he could fit it in his hands.
“Come on, darlin,” Agalon said as he pried him away from the window and they stepped into a paradise.
Long bolts of fabric lined one entire wall, in every texture, weight, weave and pattern. There were tables upon tables of different threads, needles, and floss, and another wall lined with shelves of thread and raw materials. Spinning wheels, large looms, and their smaller counterparts, drop spindles and hand-looms were displayed with carding brushes, crochet hooks and knitting needles of all shapes and sizes.
“I love it here!” Xaxac exclaimed before he could help himself, so loudly that the few patrons turned to stare at him.
Agalon, far from being upset at this, smiled and seemed to enjoy the attention.
“Do you?” he asked.
“I love it!” Xaxac repeated, half afraid that he was going to pass out. He had never seen so many beautiful things, so many fun things, so much raw potential, in one place before, not even at Agalon’s house. He wanted everything, but he didn’t know how you got it. It seemed like you couldn’t just pick things up and walk out, could you? That couldn’t be how things were done anywhere. But that’s how the food had worked both the places he got it. Maybe that’s how they did things in town? Maybe everyone was just giving things away all the time? The yarn came in so many colors! There were knitting needles of different sizes, straight needles, double pointed, and one with a string in the middle that he didn’t even know what to do with but knew he wanted.
“That’s so cute,” Agalon smiled and tusseled his hair, “You be good for your fitting and maybe I’ll get you something. What do you want?”
“Everything,” Xaxac said, in awe, before he had really developed a thought.
“Darlin, you can’t have everythin,” Agalon laughed, “pick out a couple things.”
“Can I have… cards and… needles and… what are the different sizes for? Can I have yarn? Oh god there’s so many…”
Xaxac released Agalon and took off in a sprint toward the shelves and shelves of yarn.
“Xaxac!” Lee reprimanded and headed after him.
“Watch him, Lee!” Agalon said with a tone that implied there would be consequences if the demand was not carried out, and marched toward the back, toward yet another desk.
“The hell is wrong with you?” Lee asked and snatched a skien from Xac’s hands, “put that back!”
“But feel how soft it is!” Xaxac said, “And it’s red! Like roses! Everything in the house is green; we need some color!”
“You’re actin a fool,” Lee said, “You’re droppin your act. And don’t start shit! Why’d you say that about Mrs Rigg?”
“I don’t like her,” Xaxac scowled as he pulled another skein from the shelf, “she likes Agalon. Like… like-likes Agalon. I don’t like it.”
“Oh lord,” Lee said, took the skien out of his hands and replaced it on the shelf, “You’re gettin too deep, boy. This is a job. Remember that. Agalon’s an elf. He can marry another elf again, if he wants to.”
“He won’t,” Xaxac said with great confidence, “he loves me.”
“Oh lord,” Lee repeated, “Thesis give me strength. Xaxac you ain’t… it ain’t like that. You can’t get jealous. It ain’t like that.”
“You’re the one who told me to ask for stuff!” Xaxac snapped at him, “You know he’ll get it for me! On account of he loves me.”
“It’s more complicated than that,” Lee said, but he snarled when he saw Xaxac’s face brighten and his smile widen. He knew Agalon was behind him before he heard him speak.
“You find what you want, darlin?” Agalon asked.
“How much am I allowed to get?” Xaxac asked.
“I don’t know nothin about it,” Agalon said, “How about you show me everythin you want and we figure it out. Here, put it in this basket.”
Xaxac took the basket from his hands eagerly and began to fill it.
“I need needles to knit with,” he said sensibly, “And yarn to make stuff with- I can make solstice presents for everybody!”
“Who’s everybody?” Agalon asked.
“You! And Lee! And mommy, daddy, and Allie, and maybe Alex. I like Alex… I wonder if he’d draw me a picture… I need a lotta yarn. I can make hats for everybody; I can make socks if I get double pointed needles… and blankets with the long ones. They’re so warm and comfy! If I get a spinner and some brushes I can make it outta my hair when I shift! That’s what my mamma used to do!”
“You’re so happy,” Agalon smiled, “and productive.”
“And greedy,” Lee warned.
“Leave him alone,” Agalon said, “He ain’t greedy; he wants to make presents. Put it all in the basket. We’ll get it if you’re good at your fitting.”
“How much yarn can I get?” Xaxac asked.
“Not all of it, good lord,” Agalon said as Xac crammed skien after skien into the basket.
“It takes a lot,” Xaxac explained, “it takes like a skien to make a hat. It takes a bunch of skeins to make a blanket.”
“How many is a ‘bunch’?” Agalon asked, “You’re gettin the most expensive thing here.”
“Really?” Xac asked, “But it’s angora, like me! It’s made of bunnies!”
“You’re expensive, Honey Bunny,” Agalon said, “Do you even… you’re sure you know how to do this? I ain’t gonna buy it and then you get tired of it and quit?”
“If I get the cards and the spinner I don’t need the yarn after the next time the moons are full,” Xac said, “I can just use my hair.”
Something flashed over Agalon’s eyes as if he was making an important decision, more important than a simple transaction or whether or not he was spoiling a child. Eventually he spoke.
“Get um then,” He smiled, “anything for you, Honey Bunny. But get um and then let’s get you measured for your clothes.”
“Thank you, Aggie!” Xaxac threw his arms around him and squeezed, “You’re so good to me! I’m so lucky to have you! I love you so much!”
“I love you, too, Honey Bunny,” Agalon said and leaned down to kiss his forehead.