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Raj-ak and Elias were helping Zira shop for Yule gifts. Raj-ak believed that it was Ural punishing him for upsetting her daughter. They had been in all of the shops in Willowdale. Zira, under a certain amount of suffrage, was allowing them to carry her purchases. The discussion had focused on how being pregnant was not the same as being sick vs orc’s tendency to worship pregnant women as signs of their tribe’s virility. They had to invoke Jivvaar’s name to make helping happen, but she had eventually agreed. That wasn’t the problem. No the problem was, she kept asking their opinions on things.
Things neither of them wanted to comment on.
Like did this dress make her hips look big.
Or was this too tight over her bust.
Or would this fabric be good for making orc style underthings.
The answers that neither orc was willing to give her were:
Yes! And it is a damn sexy look on you!
Instead what she got was:
*incoherent mumbling followed by careful trouser adjustment*
*blushing and careful examination of the floor and/or ceiling*
*raising of eyebrows as they realized exactly how soft and sheer the fabric was*
Finally, Zira crossed her arms, “You two are precisely no help!”
Elias cleared his throat, then rumbled, “I thought we were here to choose a Yule gift for Jivvaar.”
Zira nodded. “And find me human sized pregnancy clothes.”
Elias considered this. “Jivvaar didn’t mention that. He said we were to keep you from getting stoled again.”
Zira stared at him.
“Only, cuz, he didn’t want you getting snatched. Or bumped. Or groped. Or harassed. Or cheated. Or-”
“There was a list of concerns.” Raj-ak finished. “Jivvaar is very… protective of you.”
Now Zira looked down, but her ears turned red. “Um… OK. Let’s just pack up and go then.”
“You need pretty lacy things first.” Elias said firmly. “Ural said humies don’t always like fertile women. Said we needed to take care of you. Just didn’t think she meant …” He trailed off and gestured at the wall of fabric. Zira nodded without looking up. Elias waved over the fabric merchant, “Ya got any of that stuff made of worm shit?”
Zira’s head snapped up. “What?”
The merchant cleared his throat. “I have two bolts of silk in store just now, but it is very expensive.”
Elias nodded. “That-” he pointed firmly at Zira, “is an orcish princess. What colour is your bolts?”
It turned out one was golden yellow and one was pink, having been dyed with yellow and red onion skins respectively. The merchant named his price.
Raj-ak and Elias frowned at him. He dropped it by a third. Elias shrugged. “How even is the dye? Is that a fair price or are we going to have to come back and take stuff to make up for the difference?”
The merchant considered that. “The dye isn’t perfect,” he admitted. “How is it that you know about silk?”
Elias shrugged. “We raid for cloth all over. Don’t make it ourselves. Don’t really wear a lot of it most of the time. Orcs don’t get cold like you fragile, weak - um-” he looked down at Zira, “people,” he finished lamely.
“Why not buy it?” the man asked.
Raj-ak pointed to the door. It was human sized. The boys had needed to duck and turn sideways to get into the shop and were currently huddled trying not to bump into anything. “Not the most welcoming of places, fabric merchants. Last time I tried to buy something in a place like this, someone hit me with a broom until I left.”
The merchant was giving Zira such a calculating look that both orcs subtly shifted so that their hands were on their ax handles. “A princess you say. Hmmm. How does that work?”
Zira shrugged. “I was adopted.”
“Hmmm.” he repeated. “You can have the bolt of Debouillet wool you were looking at, if you buy both bolts of silk and allow my nephew who has a tailoring shop up the street.”
Zira shook her head. “I am only in town for today and I need orc style clothing, not human style clothing.”
The merchant considered this. Then he handed Elias all three bolts of fabric, hmm-ed and ha-ed to himself then added a bolt of pale green linen to the pile and announced, “Come with me.” He pushed past both orcs and beckoned them into the street.
Raj-ak went first, then Zira, then Elias squished out the door. They crossed the street and went up a few shops. “Wait here.” he commanded, then ducked inside, leave Zira and the boys with several bolts of fabric they hadn’t paid for.
They all looked at each other not sure what to expect next.
What they got was a fussy little man with a measuring string looped over his neck and a slightly bigger man holding a slate and a piece of chalk. “I will give you a deal on tailoring and deliver to the orc settlement next week, if you promise me safe passage.”
Raj-ak frowned. “So we give you our coin and leave with nothing?”
“That is how tailors work, Raj-ak,” Zira explained. “Why would you deliver?”
The weedy little man grinned, “It sounds like orcs are an untapped market. If you are happy with my designs, maybe other orcs will order from me in the future.”
“I need orc style clothing. Hose and shirts, but cut to fit me. Also chemise and culotte.”
The bigger man was making notes. “And a corset, I presume.”
Zira winced. “Um… no. Orcs have these little, tight fitting tops with laces in the front or sides to offer… um… support.”
The two men looked at each other. The fabric merchant cleared his throat and said, “If you can negotiate with my nephew, you can leave the fabric here. If not, you can still leave it here and he will return it to me.” Then he fled.
To the orc’s amazement, Zira agreed. She spent a few minutes talking to the men about orc fashion. She drew them some pictures. They invited her in to be measured. Looking around, Raj-ak frowned, “This isn’t a dress shop.”
Zira shrugged. “I’m not looking for a dress.”
Raj frowned. “Maybe you should. Keep your legs warmer that way. Keep that bump toasty warm.”
The tailor froze, “You’re pregnant?”
Elias immediately step between her and the little man. “Is that going to be a problem?”
The man looked up and swallowed nervously. “No,” he squeaked. “Um.. are you the … father?”
“Nah. He’s way worse than either of us.” Raj-ak said with a straight face.
“I’m in town to get him a Yule present.” Zira explained.
The two men frowned at each other. “Yule was more than a week ago.”
“Not on our calendar.” Elias rumbled.
The tailor grabbed the slate from his assistant and scribbled some notes. “If I’m careful, we should be able to come up with a way for you to wear this after you deliver as well. Silk and linen base layers, long wool tunic and loose hose over that. Maybe a longer knit coat to go over all of that.”
“How much is this going to cost?” Zira asked nervously.
The man wandered over to a desk and pulled out an abacus. He muttered to himself sounding very much like his uncle. Then inspected the fabric and added again. “Assuming I am making up all of that… full wardrobe with panel inserts for expansion….. Hmmm.” He named his price.
Zira gasped.
“And that includes the fabric and delivery, mind.”
“Um… why so cheap?”
He winked, “Well, I am auditioning to be the official tailor to orcish royalty, right?”
“I’m… not exactly royalty.” Zira stammered.
The man frowned. “My uncle said you were an orcish princess. Your bodyguard is certainly better turned out than most of the orcs we see in town.”
“She is the Keeper’s daughter.” Raj-ak said firmly. “But she is still settling into the title.” He dug out his money bag. “How soon can you deliver?”
‘I’m going to need fittings and … how is this going to work?”
“The settlement isn’t that far away.” The tailor suggested.
Elias nodded at the little man, “So it would be easy for you to stay with us while you are working. What’s your name?”
The man blushed and looked down. He muttered, ”... but people call me Hom.”