Everything, a story of Tir na Cali for the Giraffe Call
For EllenMillion's prompt.
Tír na Cali has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ.
"So what did you get her?"
"I'm her slave, Vic. Her possession." Jeremy didn't sound as annoyed by that as one would expect, but he'd had some time to get used to the idea. "Her couch doesn't buy her gifts."
"Mm-hrmm. You're her Companion." The royal tailor examined the fall of Jeremy's trousers a little too intimately. "What did you get her?"
"She's the Queen of Tir na Cali. She can have anything she wants - and does have everything, and everyone she wants."
"And you would not show up without a gift for Yule, because you don't want to end up washing dishes for a year. What did you get her?"
"What could I get her? Again, Vic, slave."
"You can't tell me you don't have spending money and the freedom to use it."
"I can, and do, and never mind if I'm lying."
"My offices have a telepathic damper installed, you know."
"Many rooms do around here, to keep from giving Her Highness the mother of all headaches all the time. Hell, I do." He tapped the small protrusion on his stylish slave collar. "But you, Vic, do not. And so you will have to wait until Yule like everyone else."
"I'll make your pants fit poorly."
"You'll only be disappointing Her Majesty if you turn me out badly." Jeremy smiled; he was enjoying this.
Vic sighed. "Promise you'll tell me as soon as you have a moment, then?"
"As soon as I have a free moment after I gift her," he agreed.
"That will have to do, I suppose." The tailor removed the pins. "Pull those off and you're free to leave - my office, at least."
"Ha, ha."
Two days later, in perfectly-fitting pants, the companion to the Queen of Tir na Cali knelt in front of his Queen, lover, and Owner and, very insecurely, presented an envelope.
"What is this, dear?" the Queen asked, fingering the envelope. Jeremy, not trusting his voice, merely waited.
"Ah..." the Queen murmured, and opened the envelope, pulling out the paper. Slowly, so slowly he thought his heart might stop, she began to smile. "You little imp! Classes! Classes in pottery?"
"And glass-blowing, your Majesty. I thought you might enjoy something... different."
He was relieved to discover, from her enthusiastic thanks, that he would be able to keep his promise to Vic.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/205642.html. You can comment here or there.
Tír na Cali has a landing page here on DW and here on LJ.
"So what did you get her?"
"I'm her slave, Vic. Her possession." Jeremy didn't sound as annoyed by that as one would expect, but he'd had some time to get used to the idea. "Her couch doesn't buy her gifts."
"Mm-hrmm. You're her Companion." The royal tailor examined the fall of Jeremy's trousers a little too intimately. "What did you get her?"
"She's the Queen of Tir na Cali. She can have anything she wants - and does have everything, and everyone she wants."
"And you would not show up without a gift for Yule, because you don't want to end up washing dishes for a year. What did you get her?"
"What could I get her? Again, Vic, slave."
"You can't tell me you don't have spending money and the freedom to use it."
"I can, and do, and never mind if I'm lying."
"My offices have a telepathic damper installed, you know."
"Many rooms do around here, to keep from giving Her Highness the mother of all headaches all the time. Hell, I do." He tapped the small protrusion on his stylish slave collar. "But you, Vic, do not. And so you will have to wait until Yule like everyone else."
"I'll make your pants fit poorly."
"You'll only be disappointing Her Majesty if you turn me out badly." Jeremy smiled; he was enjoying this.
Vic sighed. "Promise you'll tell me as soon as you have a moment, then?"
"As soon as I have a free moment after I gift her," he agreed.
"That will have to do, I suppose." The tailor removed the pins. "Pull those off and you're free to leave - my office, at least."
"Ha, ha."
Two days later, in perfectly-fitting pants, the companion to the Queen of Tir na Cali knelt in front of his Queen, lover, and Owner and, very insecurely, presented an envelope.
"What is this, dear?" the Queen asked, fingering the envelope. Jeremy, not trusting his voice, merely waited.
"Ah..." the Queen murmured, and opened the envelope, pulling out the paper. Slowly, so slowly he thought his heart might stop, she began to smile. "You little imp! Classes! Classes in pottery?"
"And glass-blowing, your Majesty. I thought you might enjoy something... different."
He was relieved to discover, from her enthusiastic thanks, that he would be able to keep his promise to Vic.
This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/205642.html. You can comment here or there.