A Barbaric Summer of Shenanigans
Filly rolled in the pillows and furs, stretching to awaken her body. A loud yawn sounded from her lungs followed by an snoozy sniff.
Her attendant smiled with a slight bow, informing the great lady,
“We will be landing in about twenty minutes.”
“Thank you, Vahly.” Filly mumbled, pressing her face back into the delicious furs.
“Which state robes will you be wearing for the reception, my lady.” Vahly inquired, ready to aid the Oracle of Atlantis in her morning dress.
“Not.” Filly blurted abruptly.
Waking was such a chore.
Vahly looked confused. She opened the closet to see what attire was available to ready, but only found an overstuffed backpack and shoulder bag on the floor.
Filly interrupted her attendant’s questions before they were spoken.
“There is no reception. Nor will I wear any robes this summer.” She sat up and giggled cheekily, “indeed, wearing any clothes at all might optional.”
Stretching her arms up to the ceiling of their transport, the anonymous Oracle let the blankets fall, revealing her preferred state of sleeping nude. Vahly averted her eyes in respect. Not that she’d never seen the lady’s flesh, for she bathed her at home. Yet, still, the unabashed confidence in her lady nagged at Vahly’s shyer personality.
“I’m not sure I understand, my lady.” Vahly asked.
“No more of that, now, or I’ll send you home.” Filly winked her tease. “It’s Filly. Just Filly, for a whole summer of bloody, delicious silence.”
“Silence, my lady… I mean, Filly?” Vahly set about unpacking brushes and toiletries.
“Mmmmhm.” Filly stood and tossed a light robe around her softly, rounded figure.
She sat by the mirror and allowed the girl to brush out last night’s tangles.
“I’m on holiday retreat this summer. None shall know me as my position in Atlantis, out here in barbaric Kentari. I will simply be a traveling Artisan, sharing my expressions of emotion however I see fit, with whomever I care to share.”
Vahly was concerned,
“Is that safe?”
“Safety is a façade, sweetie.” Filly responded in her cryptic fashion.
Vahly’s fear surfaced,
“I mean, with all the turmoil and the threats on your life? Is it a good idea to disappear into the wildest parts of the world?”
Filly turned to the girl and took her hand for comfort,
“You do not need to be here, hon. You can go back with the Pocket Ninja and have your own holiday in the quiet peace of my country estate. I need someone there to keep the home fires burning.”
Vahly looked conflicted. Her duty as Lady’s maid pressed on her to stay, but to be freely given a vacation at a beach mansion, in her own autonomy? What an eagerly hoped for possibility.
“Seriously, you will be in the way here, anyway.” Filly continued her encouragement. “I need my independence. You know how much I hate the restrictions of Temple life.”
“Ninja’s are going home, too?” The young girl asked, as she hated being alone.
“If you need companionship, I can think of no others better suited.” Filly smiled.
“I would like that.” Vahly admitted.
“Then I shall set it in motion… right after lunch.”
The two finished up their dressing as the transport landed on the seventh level of Under Olland. A rush of noise waved through the door opening upward. Vahly stepped back in awe. But Filly pressed forward, eager to get in among the crowds.
The transport pilot bowed as they exited and Filly smacked his head in a friendly reminder that none of the Trevel State customs were to be followed while in Kentari. He coughed an apology and laughed, looking at his shirt buttons. Then he winked with blushing flirtations as Vahly followed.
There was a tavern nearby that smelled of wild, smoked hog. Filly’s nose got the better of her stomach and she pranced over to acquire some food. But, there was a shrill whistle behind her, so she paused until her pocket ninja jumped upon her shoulders and bags.
They were five minor sized companions: three Leaf-fae, one Sprite, and a Leprechaun. The most militant looking Leaf-fae, Captain Garretson, spoke his command,
“How are we to protect our Lady if she wanders off alone?”
“Perhaps, not at all.”
“Nonsense, that’s why we attend to you.” Garretson continued.
Lucky the Sprite jumped from her shoulder and made his parkour way about the busy market place, stealing whatever his tiny, mischievous heart delighted in. Occasionally, he faded in and out of visibility as it pleased him to startle those about.
Seamus the Leprechaun settled himself in Filly’s jean pocket, until the bustling of crowds bumped him one too many times. Then he jumped out and landed behind the woman in full size as a grown Trevel. His sudden appearance and presence caused quite a commotion. Several screamed and the Irish charm snorted at them,
“Whata ya expect? Boompin a fellow like tha?”
Then he “Yahhhed” loudly at them and they scattered.
Extremely pleased with himself, he offered his escorting arm to Filly and warned the Leaf Captain,
“I suspect the woman ‘ere be wantn some quiet tyme.”
Filly kissed his cheek. He understood her untamed soul better than the others.
The Captain grumbled in foreboding, but settled himself on her shoulder facing backwards. His younger brother, Ccino sat upon her other shoulder facing forward. As chief Imagineer, he was delighted by all the new sights and sounds. The oldest Leaf-fae and Pathfinder, Milo, took his station hidden under her hair and crooned sweet songs into her ear. This odd group entered the tavern, blinking in the shaded light.
A large roasting boar turned slowly over the fire in the central floor. The smell was enough to make any mouth water. Lucky landed upon the shoulder of the cook who was spraying a homemade concoction of alcohol and herbs upon the sizzling flesh. He was only mildly startled. The wee folk were more common in the Kentari outlands, than they were welcomed in the civilized Trevel cultures.
“You be hungered, wee sir?” the chef inquired, pulling a morsel of crisping off the meat and handing it to the Sprite.
Lucky immediately disappeared to devoured his prize in peace.
The chef then looked up at the newcomers. His eyes roved the women as hungrily as they eyed his food fare. Filly licked her lips and the chef couldn’t help imitating her.
“Hungry?” was all he asked.
“Always,” responded Filly in a deep voice.
She winked sultrily at him and he determined to give her his special discount.
“Find yerselvs a seat and I’ll have me crew feed ya till you’re full.” He nodded, then whistled behind him.
A fawn trotted in with a plate and waited as the chef carved slabs of juicy meat off the boar. The group was then guided to follow the fawn to a table. As they wandered by, the chef could not help but slap Filly’s rounded arse.
She responded with a sweet smile and a sudden move of her hand to his throat. The chef gagged, suddenly pushed against the rooms central wooden pole.
“Your eyes may appreciate, good sir.” Filly warned him with kindness, but then her voice changed to the tune of death as she threatened, “but, keep your hands to yourself.”
The chef held his hands up, still holding a mighty cleaver. He smiled at her boldness and winked an apology,
Filly nodded politely and turned away from him. But over her shoulder she looked back and teased,
“I assure you, if I want your handy attentions, I will tell you.” Then she turned to address the others in the room that were watching the commotion and assured them also, “you have my word.”
The fawn saw them seated at a comfortable table and directed them,
“We have a salad bar in the far corner, if you should like to balance your meat. May I get drinks for anyone?”
Vahly smiled and out of habit, ordered for herself and her lady,
“Iced water would be a great start, thank you.”
The fawn nodded and retreated to the kitchen.
Filly’s mouth was already full of meat and juices.
“Mmmmmmmmm, foodgasm.” She mumbled.
Vahly laughed and they both made their way to the salad bar. Milo stayed behind to eat his fill and mind their places.
Lunch was a delicious fare and the company of the tavern friendly. Vahly considered the flirtations forward, but Filly’s heart came to life with all the attention. It was a treasure to her to be appreciated for herself and not for her position. Though Vahly was concerned that perhaps her judgement might be clouded in all the attention.
Once full of food and laughter, Filly inquired as to lodging. But the Captain would have none of that.
“No, no, no, no! I know what you’re up to. I know you’re planning on ditching us here in this barbaric place. And I can’t stop you. You’re a grown-ass woman and can do as you please, no matter how reckless. But,” he paused in his command, “if I am to leave you here alone, will you, PLEASE, at least check in to a place that is more respectable?”
Filly scowled, but Garretson placed a tiny hand on her check and said,
“As a kindness to me, let me know you are well cared for, at least for the first night?”
Smiling with much love, Filly acquiesced and they returned to the transport so they might find better lodgings further down inside the city. Filly perused her linked on flowboard for rental places. One caught her eye for reasons she couldn’t explain.
“This one has a concert tonight. A band of bards called the Lords of Ragefall are performing.” She looked up their name and found, “Oooh! They are the Regents of this city and are performing concerts all summer long.”
“Regents? What city leader has time to mess around with music?” Vahly snorted in unbelief.
“The very best kind, I would say.” Filly clicked a few more links and found the Hotel reservation page.
“Here, Garretson, does this look respectable enough? The Hotel Standard: it costs enough to be exhaustively respectable.”
The vigilant Leaf-fae studied the advertisement and its ratings. He even scrolled through some of the comments before he was satisfied.
“I can do this one.” He said.
Filly booked herself a cottage in the river garden for privacy and because the Temple of Atlantis was paying, so she could afford the best.
“A concert tonight! You will all stay with me for that and wait to leave in the morning, right?” Filly asked with happy smiles.
Everyone agreed and the pilot took off, making his way down to level four of Under Olland. Out the windows, Vahly watched the buildings become grander, the deeper they flew. The road that wound down through the levels was far too crowded to travel. Air transport was much easier. The young girl smiled out the window, daydreaming of her own summer by the beach.
Lucky planned to go visit his family estate, and the Leaf brothers were assigned the care of young Vahly, at home. The pilot was eager to make himself available as chauffeur to the young attendant for the summer. Thus, it was that Filly rested, thrilled to get her own way and be left alone, but for the quiet companionship of the cheeky Leprechaun. Seamus was never a restraint or a bore.