Work Text:
The Knight of the Living Undergarments
Diarmuid wasn't exactly sure why Sola-Ui had handed him the job application. While it was true that Kayneth's lifestyle wasn't exactly cheap, he did have quite a bit of money attributed to his family name and title of El-Melloi. But as a loyal knight who served his master diligently, he was in no position to deny his lord's honorable request. So he carefully filled out the form in a flowing script, all the while wondering who Victoria was and why she was housing secrets in such an unchivalrous fashion. Regardless of whatever deluded morals this Victoria followed, Diarmuid was pleased nevertheless to find that a week later, he was offered a spot as a cashier.
* * * * *
On his first day on the job, Diarmuid had no idea what to expect, and clearly neither did the manager, a 4 foot 10 inch plump woman who almost fainted when he walked in through the employee entrance. Her ingrained strictness was all that saved her and allowed her to stammer out, "Are you the new cashier?"
He bowed low, barely glancing around the plain employee lounge that he had just walked into. "I am, my lady. Do I have the honor to be working under your power and authority?"
The manager did her fair share of squeaking and stuttering before she could manage to speak coherently once more, "I wouldn't exactly call it an honor, but yes."
Straightening up, he met her eye-to-eye, "I will do my best to serve you in any way you wish." Without giving her time to recover, he continued, "What is this position called 'cashier'?"
Melted thoroughly into a puddle of lovestruck, the manager pushed an employee manual over the counter in the general direction of Diarmuid. "Read this," she muttered almost inaudibly.
He accepted it and began flipping through the pages. "When do I actually start?"
Recovering quite quickly, given the circumstances, the manger continued on, "Y-you're on next shift. I-if you need any questions answered, ask Sola-Ui. She'll be your coworker from here on out."
Diarmuid blinked rapidly. "I believe I am acquainted with this woman already."
"Wonderful! That'll make things easier then! Good luck with your shift! Speaking of which, I need to get back to mine. The rush is about to start, and I have to put the new shipment of the pink sparkle thongs on the shelf."
"Thongs? As in for slings?"
Giggling uncontrollably between words, the manager began to walk out the door. "You're a funny one. Enjoy your first day and don't forget; if the bra fits, wear it!"
Thoroughly confused, Diarmuid concentrated on his manual as though it would provide all the answers. After a few hours, it was time for his first shift and he walked into the pink wonderland of the main store.
* * * * *
Floor to ceiling was covered with drawers, each filled to the brim with drawers of their own. Diarmuid had never seen such a variety of undergarments, and could not fathom what most of them could be used for. Surely these skimpy pieces of fabric wouldn't even be considered for the battlefield! Regardless of the impracticality of these strange, flashy garments, they sold like ale to a victorious army. Diarmuid himself had no difficulty with his given task; the currency machine wasn't as complicated as he believed it to be at a first glance and he had no trouble offering customers assistance when needed (although some seemed to ask for help a little too much).
As the shift progressed, Diarmuid emerged as an extremely productive employee, although not necessarily a team member. In fact, he spent most of his time finding odd jobs to do that would keep him away from Sola-Ui. At one point, he even had to duck behind a rack of the most intimate apparel (the ones that made even him blush) in order to avoid her maiden onslaught. She was not oblivious to his avoidance of her, was rather so enamored that she refused to give up. Knowing that he would always be on shift with her, Sola-Ui began to bide her time and look for her best opportunity to seduce.
Meanwhile, Diarmuid was amassing a legion of loyal customers who undoubtedly stopped by just to see him. Of course, many of them made attempts to win his affection, but Diarmuid never even batted an eye, no matter how gorgeous the woman. Any woman who approached him for “help” found themselves treated with this same gentlemanly courtesy. Strangely, this didn't dissuade the group of shoppers, who continued swarming him even as they speculated he was playing hard to get or that perhaps he wasn't interested in girls at all.
Eventually, Diarmuid was moved out onto the floor, though whether his promotion was a direct result of his hard work or the pleas of the customers was beyond him. Either way, he showed great skill in being able to lead customers to exactly the right drawer and soon the store was filled day after day with women eager to be served by the chivalrous knight.
* * * * *
One particular afternoon, while busying himself near the fitting rooms, a particularly voluptuous blonde approached Diarmuid, several bras in hand. Innocently batting her eyelashes and twirling some stray golden locks with a finger, she asked Diarmuid if he'd "size her" (whatever that meant). Pretty soon, there was a line out the door of women asking to be "sized". Thoroughly confused, Diarmuid could only think to say, "I don't know if I'm qualified to . . . size? . . . you lovely women. Let me go ask my manager." And for the first time in his life, he retreated into the back room.
Idly reading their new Summer catalog, the manager hardly even glanced up at him. "Let me guess. They want you to size them, right?"
Impressed, Diarmuid thought, "She must be a mage of considerable skill to be able to read my thoughts so masterfully." He bowed and replied, "Yes, my lady. How do you want me to respond?"
"Well, we typically don't allow men to do sizing, but I have the strange feeling that if we don't turn the other way and permit you to, we'll have a riot on our hands . . ."
"How does one "sizing"!?"
Clearly amused, the manager explained to process to Diarmuid, who looked absolutely horrified.
"That would be dishonorable! I cannot take advantage of a lady in such a manner!"
"Think of it less of taking advantage of a woman and more of saving our store from utter chaos," the manager stated simply as she passed over a pink tape measure to the appalled lancer.
Diarmuid sighed, but accepted the tape. "As you wish, my lady."
With that, he once again headed out into the hordes of women, but before Diarmuid could take the first woman in line, who was practically squealing in excitement, Sola-Ui stepped out in front of him, directly blocking his path. "Just what do you think you're doing?!"
"I've been ordered to assist customers in the sizing process."
Looking as if she's about to faint, Sola-Ui threw down the hangers she had wedged in between her arms. "Like hell you are!"
Not wanting to start a fight with Sola-Ui, Diarmuid backed away slightly. "As you are my master's intended, I must honor you, but such language does not befit a lady. I must do as the manager bids me if I wish to keep this job."
Storming away, she yelled over her shoulder, "We'll see about that!"
He shrugged it off and gestured once again to the first woman in line. "Sorry to keep you waiting, my lady." A collective cheer was heard from the crowd, who, by this point, were either paying each other off or murdering one another to move up further in the line.
* * * * *
After a few weeks on the job, Diarmuid got good enough that he could correctly guess a woman's bust size without measuring 90% of the time. Besides the better pay, the new position had the unexpected benefit of being able to avoid Sola-Ui, so even though he was still uncomfortable infringing upon innocent women's modesty, Diarmuid found that he was satisfied with his job.
However, unbeknownst to him, Sola-Ui was hell-bent on making sure he wouldn't have an opportunity to size any more women. At first, she complained directly to the head of their branch, but sales were unlike anything they'd ever seen before, and as a result, they seemed to overlook the situation entirely. Frustrated beyond belief, Sola-Ui turned to more under the table methods to get Diarmuid as far away from other women as she possibly could, but after many fruitless schemes, Sola-Ui realized that the only way to keep him away from women would be to get him fired and then have him locked away in a tower like a damsel in distress.
So, one particular busy afternoon while all the employees had their hands completely full, Sola-Ui grabbed as many products as she could possibly muster (without being conspicuous of course) and shoved them all into Diarmuid's locker. Knowing from her discussions with the branch head that profits were everything, she went back and slyly asked, "So, is the money an employee brings in worth it if they're stealing products of equal value?"
Shortly thereafter, Diarmuid's locker was given a thorough search, and he was let go, much to the dismay of his loyal fans and his coworkers. For his part, Diarmuid was most worried about the disappointment of his master, who would surely reprimand him harshly for hours on end. So, in an attempt to placate Kayneth, Diarmuid waited until after Sola-Ui got off her shift, then entered the store for the last time, to buy some of the more delicate "please your husband" type underthings.
As soon as Kayneth started the inevitable rant, Diarmuid pulled out the recognizable bag and slid it over to him. "I thought you might be able to find someone who might use these."
Kayneth immediately shut up and reached over to look in the bag. Raising an eyebrow, he gently held up a set of pink risqué lingerie. Diarmuid kept his head bowed. "Do as you like with them."
Holding the bag close, Kayneth stood up suddenly. "I have to go. You know . . . practice magecraft . . . or something."
"As you say, master." Diarmuid remained kneeling until Kayneth left the room, so Kayneth wouldn't be able to see the grin that spread all the way across his face.
From the other room, Sola-Ui was presumably getting a taste of her own medicine through Kayneth's advances, which included him chasing her around the coffee table, all the while holding up the skimpy garments and chanting "Put it on! Put it on!".