#in which Sau has to convince someone else that he really is a rich elegant artist

[fireintheforest]

Behind the Blue, chapter 23, part 1

The day was shining with a promising sun, a cool wind that blew now and then and teased some of Saufinril’s hairstrands as he combed his hair. It’d been a while since he’d sent a message to Lillandril and Rialas; they’d be bound to have received the previous one by now. They hadn’t busted into the area in all their sassy, magic throwing, arrow shooting glory, so he guessed they were perfectly fine and happy that he’d communicated with them, busy believing he was fine and correcting the way he wrote his g’s.

“At your age,” Saufinril imitated Lillandril’s tone as he kept brushing his hair, clutching the leather strap with his teeth, “one was capable of writing letters to the Queen and the jarls of Skyrim with such fine writing that when Julianos himself saw it, he wept and it created the ocean. PAH!” He moved to tie his hair back, “Your h’s look like long-necked dogs- NO!” he cried out as the leather strap broke, “Fuck!” He sighed and moved his long long hair to the side and started to braid it, tying the end of the braid with one half of the leather strap. This is what he gets for mocking his elders.

Standing up from the dresser, he went to his luggage and ruffled through his clothes for something to wear for the lunch. After trifling for a while, though, he sighed and put his clothes aside. He needed to present Cyremin in a lunch with a Thalmor officer, Armellon and the target of this theft and sell it with the adequate clothes, but none felt quite right. And he couldn’t go back to Marley- so far not enough Altmer had been attracted to the clothes the way he’d promised they would, Marley might as well know by now that he was a con mer.

Maybe if he sold something of his and got another robe from another seamstress or tailor, at least for today…Saufinril rubbed his temple. He needed to go out. Reaching up to tie his braid into a bun, he threw on clothes from the top of his baggage and hurried out the door, walking out past the streets, past the flowerbeds and chattering people, until he reached the streets lined with businesses on either side and started to peer at the windows. Bakeries, flower shops, jewelry stores-

“Monsieur?”

Saufinril turned around and found Dean, Marley’s nephew, approaching from a short distance away, where Saufinril must’ve walked past him. Saufinril immediately gave him arched eyebrows.

“My uncle wants to see you at the store.”

“And you ran all the way here?” Saufinril tapped the boy’s head with two fingers, earning a puzzled (and somewhat mad) look. Saufinril just chuckled, “Lead the way.” He masked the resignment in his face as he followed the Breton boy. Fuck, here comes the ‘I haven’t received any clients, hold your side of the deal’, with what money would he pay him back?

Before he knew it, the store showed up ahead of him, open and awaiting customers. They stepped inside, and not long after Marley came from the back of the storefront. When his eyes found Saufinril, they lit up with a smile.

“Monsieur!” he exclaimed, his usual sunny demeanor shining through as he opened his arms.

“One’s been told you wanted one.” Saufinril purred with a wink. Dean gave Saufinril a disgusted look and walked to the back of the store as Marley laughed nervously.

“Indeed, I sent my nephew to find and fetch you.” Marley cleared his throat, smiling, “I called to thank you!”

The arched eyebrow Saufinril gave him was natural, “Thank one?”

“This morning,” Marley began, “a gentlemer came asking to see one’s robes, claiming he’d seen an Altmer wearing beautiful clothes and he’d been asking to see who made them, and he was directed here! To me!” Marley’s eyes were positively shining, almost like a puppy’s, Saufinril thought amused, “I-I had no idea it could be you until I asked them to describe you and-well he seemed confused that I did, but when he did I-I knew, I knew and you were right!”

Saufinril hid his own surprise with an eyeroll and a smile, “Of course it worked.” He forced a laugh, -“One told you it would, didn’t one?”

“You did, and-I-“ Marley passed a hand through his hair, “I-I had my doubts, monsieur. I haven’t had that many clients since I moved from Dunlain, it was looking grim but…but it worked!”

Saufinril gave him a sweet smile, “Of course it worked. You didn’t need to bring one here to tell you that.”

Marley paused, and then scratched the back of his head, offering an embarrassed smile. “I guess I was excited about the order and wanted to thank you in person, I hope I’m not interrupting your agenda. To be honest, it didn’t cross my mind that-”

“It’s quite forgiven, Marley.” Saufinril walked towards the tailor and traced a finger down his chest, “If, that is…” Marley’s smile faded as he observed the golden finger gently go down, then to his chin as Saufinril made him look up at his eyes, “you give one another of your creations for this afternoon.”

Marley blinked twice, “Th-this afternoon?”

“Mmm. One has a meeting with some officers, and one knows just how marvelously you can work.”

“My uncle is not a dressing servant!” both grownups turned to Dean, who both had forgotten was in the store. He was at the end of the counter, jaw tight and nostrils flaring, eyes set on Saufinril and fists curled tight.

No, holding tight. There was a parchment on his hand, where Saufinril could vaguely see the silhouette of a wolf holding what seemed to be a wet seed on his mouth.

“Don’t mingle in adult conversations, boy!” Marley exclaimed, his voice aiming for stern but only managing embarassment. Saufinril raised an eyebrow. He’d had plenty of dimwitted ideas in his past but at least he knew he’d NEVER butted in in an adult conversation. Unthinkable, both back in the Isles and living with Lillandril.

“But uncle!” the teen pushed, and Saufinril immediately understood why his younger years had been so amusing to Ria, “It’s the truth! You can’t let some-some outlander boss you around, expecting you halt your business and have everything ready for him!”

Annoyingly, the child had a point. But he had a job.

“’Tis fine, one can look for another tailor if this is too short notice.” Saufinril offered, arranging his face to one of disinterest and displeasure. He removed his finger from Marley’s jaw.

“Dean” Marley spoke, this time with an angrier edge, “Stop this at once.”

Dean’s face turned a rose color, mumbled an apology, and left to the back. Marley turned to Saufinril, face twisted with embarrassment.

“I am so sorry about him, monsieur, he’s my sister’s son. I took him in to show him the trade and help her- she has seven children, see. And he’s, he’s had his share of trouble back home, he doesn’t know how to hold back…”

He didn’t know what it was, but something about Marley’s speech bothered him. Still he just smiled.

“Nevermind that.” Saufinril said, “Back to the matter at hand. One might have to meet with more officials, and one will need clothes for such occasion.”

“Of course. If you give me some days-”

“Days?” Saufinril let out a short laugh, “One is due in hours! Good evening, monsieur.” He turned around and began to walk out the store.

“Wait!” Marley called, making Saufinril stop and turn, “I…I don’t have anything for right now.” Marley admitted, then sighed in defeat, “But, I know this seamstress. She might have something for you.”

Saufinril scratched the underside of his chin, arching an eyebrow, “Where is she?”

“Let me write the address for you.”

 Five twists and turns, two dead ends, a Breton girl stopped for directions and a brief stop at a bakery for a quick breakfast of chocolate-centered pastry and Saufinril was finally in front of MICETTE’S, as the sign outside of the store advertised.

Saufinril had been able to trick Marley into lending him clothes for free. Self-doubt started to creep in as he wondered if he’d be able to do the same to this Micette or if he was going to have to fork over money for robes he would wear only once.

He sighed. As much as he rolled his eyes at them, sometimes he really appreciated Rialas’s and Lillandril’s confidence in things.

“ ‘Onwards and upwards, as the mentally challenged would say’ ” Saufinril muttered to himself, while mentally he heard those words in Lillandril’s voice. Back straight, arrogant face, it’s showtime. He pushed the door and went in.

Saufinril immediately understood why Marley had accepted the deal of working for exposure when many others would’ve refused (Rialas, if proposed with this, would bite the person’s face): his store was empty. Every time he walked into Marley’s, there were orders getting made, but the store remained empty. Saufinril assumed that it was because his rich clients sent their servants to fetch their orders, and since not that many people were of the merchant middle class, not everyone could afford his creations.

Micette’s store, however, also had orders being made. And also had servants. But there were around four or five, waiting for their packages. And while Marley had the help of his loudmouth nephew, at Micette’s counter there were two other girls attending the servants. And these servants’s shirts and blouses were made of a nicer material than Toivon’s and Sorcise’s.

Micette’s was higher class, then. What the FUCK. Marley accepted the deal because he was desperate. Micette has high-profile clients. What would she have for him? How would he pull the same trick on her?

He didn’t have a chance to mull it over too much, because the blond girl at the counter spotted him. She gave two servants some parcels and sent them their way before approaching him.

“Good morning.” She said, giving him a cordial smile, “Are you here to see our wares?”

“One is here to see Micette.” Saufinril replied, slipping easily into the Cyremin act. For a second he thought this girl was going to look at him up and down and send him on his way, but instead she gave a brief nod and replied, “Right this way.” Before leading him up a set of stairs on the right. Once they reached the second floor, Saufinril was greeted with the sight of a waiting room with light blue, soft seats, a fur rug, various porcelain vases with roses and Mara’s tears, a table with a plate that had dainty strawberry tarts, cream puffs, mini rose sweet rolls and apple and lavender dumplings. As soon as Saufinril sat at the seat, the girl that brought him in served him some tea, leaving the mug and the clear teapot with the underwater blooming jasmine flower in the table.

“I’ll fetch her for you, monsieur.” And with that, she went to a door next to the stairs they’d come up from. Her steps indicated it was stairs. Once she was gone, Saufinril relaxed and looked around better. The smell of roses was starting to get to his nostrils, which meant in a little while it would impregnate the whole room. Lovely. If there was something he and Lillandril could probably agree, it was how tacky it is to leave a store with the stench of whatever scent the owner decided to bathe everyone in. No offense to perfumeries, of course, just-

He heard two sets of feet come down the stairs behind the door.