The Flaneur & The Gladiator

[Thomas]

"I think that concludes the business of selection," Thomas said.

The shopclerk nodded.

"Now, as it pertains to measurements..." Thomas trailed off, looking at the clerk. "Will you be doing those, Miss, or will you be fetching someone to assist?"

The implication here was clear: Thomas was unsure if the lady wanted to be indelicate and get close to Zilrud, especially for taking measurements of the circumference of his thigh and his inseam.

She gave a faintly amused smile. "I believe, Sir, that as long as you are a party to the measurements, all will be well."

Thomas nodded. That made good sense to him. She was not allowing herself to get into a situation where there would be no witnesses if something untoward happened, and he in turn could step in to mediate the situation if there were any miscommunications.

"While it has been some time since I have measured a gentleman, Miss, I am happy to assist you with taking Zilrud's, should such a thing become necessary."

"As you say, m'Lord. I will leave that up to the gentleman himself. If he prefers your hands on him, or insists on them, I am happy to record measurements instead of taking them. The changing rooms are just in the back of the shop, gentlemen. Please follow me when you are ready."

Thomas finished his mulled wine, which was warming and delightful, set aside the pattern book on the table, and got up to follow her.

[Zilrud]

This was the part he had been dreading most about finding clothes. Thomas had done a well enough job of preparing him for what was to come when it boiled down to looking for new clothes in a populated area. The first, of course, was the people, which had to be navigated carefully, or they would end up in a situation that would not befit them. Navigating people had been reasonably easy enough, and the one or two things that Zilrud or someone else had done had been mitigated easily enough. Zilrud did not particularly care for picking patterns and the like, having his only wish being nothing too obnoxious in terms of design or color.

But now, that part Zilrud would have to suffer through would be someone touching him to measure him. It was almost objectification. It was similar to treating someone else’s body as an item to measure for them to be clothed appropriately. Although objectification applied, it was a very loose-fitting subjugation of the word.

The conversation turned to the situation with measurement, and the Orkhai lifted his gaze to Thomas, then to the girl as they discussed how it would happen. It would not matter either way. Thomas was going to be there regardless. When the pair of them stood up and one moved after the other, Zilrud remained seated momentarily. The man took a deep breath and let it out exasperatedly before tossing back the entirety of the mulled wine drink, swallowing down the warmed alcohol, and setting the cup aside, out of the way.

Standing up, a grunt of disapproval of needing to be measured, the Orkhai stood to his towering full height, glanced over the group of people monopolizing the store’s business, and followed after Thomas toward the back of the shop to the changing rooms.

“I do not care who does it, as long as it is done right the first time.”

And with that, Zilrud was upon the pair of them, waiting to be directed on what to do and how to do it. He was not used to being measured. In fact, the last time he was measured for anything, things had been quite different, and his situation was anything but savory.

[Thomas]

Thomas had been reticent about this part. Zilrud did not like being poked and prodded. Few men enjoyed it, Thomas included, but Zilrud detested it and Thomas did not blame him. Being held captive and made to fight for an untold amount of time, being fitted for armor or doctored up but only enough for his captors to protect their investment, and being shown and told, over and over again, that his use to them determined if he would continue to live.

Thomas did not want to remind Zilrud of such times.

"I'll measure him," he said to the clerk, who nodded. He figured it might be better if it came from him.

"I'll record, then."

Thomas knelt in front of Zilrud and began with the orkhai's bare feet. He measured their width and the length from toe to ankle, as well as their approximate circumference in a few places so that the shop could use a circular knit and not end up encasing the orkhai's feet in a cloth vice. The claw-like toenails would win that fight, but no one would end up happy with such a result.

Then, he brought the tape under Zilrud's pant leg to measure his shin length and circumference at its widest point.

"Please disrobe, Zilrud. Just the trousers, for now."

Assuming the orkhai did so, Thomas would continue to measure him: the length from his hip bone to his knee, the circumference of his thigh at its widest point with a notation for much more give in this area than humans would need due to how his muscles tended to expand with exertion, and, once he checked which side would be most appropriate to approach from, his inseam.

With that done, Thomas stood up. "Right, that's the bottom half finished. Please put your trousers back on, and take off your shirt. I may also need you to sit down so I can get your neck and shoulders, and we may need to leave the changing area to do your armspan, as this room is a bit crowded with the three of us as it is; I don't think asking you to put your arms all the way out will help. But we're just about done!"

It was hard not to smile at Zilrud anyhow, but Thomas felt oddly proud of him for sticking this one out. It was a confusing and unforgiving world, but he was making his way through it.

[Zilrud]

Zilrud was thankful when Thomas offered with a firmness that he would be the one to do the measuring and the clerk could record the measurements. It was nothing against the woman; he was confident she could do it fine, but a stranger physically touching him as an object made the Orkhai uncomfortable.

When Thomas was ready, the Orkhai moved into position and did as Thomas told him. He knew better than to fight Thomas on something that required finesse and delicate touches. Perhaps it sounded like an insult to Thomas’ manhood and masculinity, but it was something Zilrud actually admired about the man. Tilting his head down, he watched Thomas kneel before him and measure his feet. He was lifting them when he needed them or holding them in whichever way was required. The tape moved to place near his shin, and the larger, green head tilted to watch, and Zilrud accepted the request to remove his lower garment.

Quite swiftly for a large man, the pants came off with ease, and they were held up, allowing Thomas the freedoms necessary to take the measurements of his lower half. From his hip bone to his knee, the circumference of a thigh at the widest point, and for a moment, the muscles beneath the thicker skin flexed against the touch and feel of the measurements around his flesh, and he watched further as both brows rose in question when the other was checking his inseam. That was a measurement nobody had ever done before, and was ready to question it without a second thought.

His mouth had opened to question but closed it when Thomas was moving on to tell him to pull his pants back on. The Orkhai was not shy, and he looked between Thomas and the girl to make sure things were okay before pulling the pants back on, and soon, the shirt was being pulled off. He was more careful about the shirt than he had been with the pants. Maneuvering the tusks, the ears, the hardened gemstone, and the rough textured geometric pattern along his chest, he ensured the shirt caught nothing as his muscular torso was on display.

Kneeling or sitting, whichever worked best for Thomas, Zilrud would ensure he made the other’s task as easy as possible. Lifting the muscular arms, the muscles along his back, chest, abdomen, and arms flexed and contorted as he lifted them or moved them this way or that, for Thomas to get a proper measurement for him. When needed, though, Zilrud had no qualms about exiting the changing room shirtless, moving over just outside the changing room, and spreading his arms out completely wide. He was not worried about someone staring, and they did that anyway. What he wanted to ensure didn’t happen was Thomas’ energy and money were not wasted because they tried to take a shortcut.

Once Thomas finished the measurements, the other’s smile made the Orkhai swell his chest with pride. Thomas was happy with the turn of events, which pleased the Orkhai, even if it didn’t outwardly show at that moment. When all was said and done, Zilrud pulled the shirt back on over his head and looked between Thomas and the shop clerk helping them.

“What next?”

He figured there was still something else to do rather than being officially at the end of everything.

[Thomas]

Thomas didn't answer, looking to the clerk with a raised eyebrow. She gave him a little nod in turn.

"We're all set, big guy," Thomas said with a smile. As before, he instructed the bill be sent to the estate and worked through the finer details of shipping and turnaround time with the clerk.

Once that had been done to his satisfaction, he bade the woman good day and strode out into the chill of Frost afternoon with Zilrud. Shopping, fitting, and tailoring took hours, even when one knew exactly what to look for, but it still surprised him how much time had flown by.

"That went well, do you not think?" Thomas said with a smile. "That's boots and clothes sorted for you. The only things that remain would be things like armor or weapons, I suppose, but I'll be hell helpful on that account. I know where the Argents buy it, but you'd be on your own for determining quality of goods and the like. Other than that, I suppose we could look at jewelry, or just window shop for a bit if there's stuff you enjoy looking at or stuff you want to look for." He took in ZIlrud's lack of comprehension on that last comment, and clarified: "Sometimes, you see things you didn't expect, and that can be surprising and delightful."

"I'd also be happy, though, to take in some food and a warm drink somewhere and then retire for the day. What would be your preference, Zilrud?"

[Zilrud]

When it seemed they were finally finished, the Orkhai sighed in relief. It was not that he hated the experience; it was a lot of new things that he did not particularly care to do too often. That, plus learning to navigate a more refined society than what he was used to, had brought a newfound respect for Thomas’s abilities. Others may not have found that sort of skill very useful in a society where it is the norm, but Zilrud was willing to acknowledge it. Thomas was flowery with his words to begin with, and the fact that he was ready to bridge the gap between Zilrud and the rest of the people of Lorien made the Orkhai quite respectful of his ability.

The Orkhai paused long enough to allow Thomas to finish the instructions, and the larger of the pair nodded his head respectfully to the shopkeeper before they turned to leave the shop. Once outside, Zilrud took a deep breath and let it out. He knew more people were outside than inside, but it was freeing to be back outside where he could feel the colder hair on his thicker skin. The question from the Griscian male had the Orkhai’s head tilting as they seemed to pause for a moment as Thomas was detailing what had been done and how he would be useless if it came to armor or weapons. That remark made Zilrud snort, and he fought the smirk that pulled at the corner of the green-fleshed face. And although Zilrud attempted to fight the smirk, Zilrud lifted two thicker fingers along with a hand and slid into the waistline of Thomas’s pants. With a yanking pull, the Orkhai turned toward Thomas as the Orkhai pulled him, so the Griscian was forced to collide with his front with a dull thud as their bodies made contact.

Zilrud knew what Thomas had said about the locals and their unease of affection, but Thomas was… Cute at that moment. And in that brief moment, as their bodies were against one another, Zilrud’s red eyes slid to the side, seeming to contemplate his next move. The hand that had slid the pair of fingers into the garment to tug him lifted from them, and the hand slid behind Thomas and held to his lower back, keeping him close. By then, the more significant, green male had decided, and Zilrud was lowering his face. Mindful of the tusks on his face, he captured Thomas’ lips and gave him a proper kiss: a reward, a gesture, a need, given to the other. The brief but pressed kiss was broken for the Orkhai to speak plainly and not in as hushed of a whisper as it probably should have been. “Thank you, Little One. I still do not understand it all completely. But you helped me.” And that was it, and there were no other words where another sentence or two would have helped.

Zilrud did not care about anyone else in that moment.

Keeping the arm draped around Thomas, the Orkhai would walk to a couple more shops, just looking at the windows before he stopped.

“You pick some to look at, too. You deserve to look.”

Zilrud would only move from that spot once Thomas picked anything, even if it was just one place he wanted to look at; Zilrud wanted Thomas to take the time for himself to do some looking too.

Regardless of how long it took, Zilrud’s arm had not left Thomas’ side unless Thomas pulled away. And just when things were winding down for the evening, Zilrud acknowledged that Thomas deserved a warm drink. This, of course, meant Zilrud started poking his nose around places that looked like they would allow someone of his stature and composure to at least have a drink while Thomas could also get something in his body, and from that point? They would head back to find the quiet confines from where they had started.