"So many colors!" Crimson cooed as she spooled through a rack of shirts, occasionally peeling them apart to closely examine the designs on them. "So many choices! Clothings are not so bad, maybe."


"Polyester," Angelmaris scoffed in rebuttal. "Cotton. Feh! I might choose to find this a deadly insult. Why can I not have silk, at the absolute least?"


Richard sighed yet again and glanced around, making sure that none of the other shoppers were close enough to take notice. "Because college students can't generally afford silk, and you're supposed to be blending in. We can get you a... like a bathrobe or something. A little excess is to be expected, but nothing overboard. Especially since you're going to be living with me. People know the kinds of things I wear and can afford. It'll look suspicious. Besides, you can't go around looking like a Renaissance Faire reject all the time."


"Reject!?" the fae nearly shrieked before the shifter slapped a hand over his mouth. He peeled it away, repeating himself more quietly, "Reject? I'll have you know, I was always one of the best dressed of the Winter Court! Maeve herself stole a few of my designs!"


"I don't know who that is, and I really don't care. The point is that you look very out of place in that stuff. Just look around and see if there's anything you like the look of. I'll pick out some clothes for you otherwise."


Angelmaris huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, but turned to begin browsing the racks. Richard had allowed him to use enough magic to repair his current attire, but he hadn't allowed his temporary vassal to conjure up any new outfits, mostly for the reasons stated above but also because he didn't want the little imp to find a loophole to exploit. Thankfully, Bastion had stopped by shortly after they woke up from their nap with freshly minted ID cards for both "Scarlet Crimson Aspectum" and "Angel Maris Hiems", both of whom were naturalized citizens originally from Greece. It explained their accents. And both, it turned out, could speak fluent Latin, Gaelic, Draconic (which was apparently real, to the shifter's surprise) and several other languages that Richard had never heard of in addition to English, so it made perfect sense.


So far, Crimson had picked out several pairs of shorts, mostly of the cargo variety, and a few skirts, and was now browsing through the "teen" area of the Women's Clothing section. Graphic tees were a new and novel concept to her, and she was very taken with them. The fae lord, on the other hand, was as difficult to please as the former harpy was easy. The "cheap, uncouth peasant garb" was not to his liking in the slightest. Richard had told him to keep within fifteen feet, so he wasn't overly worried about the fae wandering a little while Crimson browsed, but he was surprised to feel a tug on his elbow. He turned to find a dress being held up towards him. It was faux-velvet, a deep purple that was nearly black, and very old-fashioned looking, in the gothic style that had become popular with kids in recent years. Retro to the point of nearly ancient, with a bit of lace at the neck and string-lace up the front of the bodice, but with the shorter sleeves and hem of more modern clothing. It also had intricate vine-and-leaf patterns embroidered all over it. It was actually pretty nice, even with the older look to it.


"This would be acceptable," Angelmaris said after he had given Richard a few moments to appraise the item, lowering it down so that he could peer upwards at the shifter with the hanger clutched beneath his chin. "Please?"


It was a bit on the expensive side, but Bastion had offered to foot the bill for this little shopping spree. The half-dragon had an apparently bottomless bank account. They would be ordering furniture for the pair of them, beds and such, on Bastion's dime later that evening. The shifter considered it for a moment, then nodded, and put on as posh an accent as he could manage.


"I think it would look quite fetching on you."


Angelmaris stared up at him as if suspecting sarcasm, but Richard just offered him an innocently approving smile. After a long moment, the fae draped the dress over the edge of the shopping cart and darted back over to look for more. Crimson, in the meanwhile, had added two shirts to the cart and was looking for more. Richard intended to limit both of them to no more than two dozen outfits each, more than enough to wear during an average week with plenty of options to mix and match, with one or two more fancy sets for going out or more formal events. With the fae's demands for excessively expensive fabrics and hand-tailored attire, though, things had been a bit difficult. It was good that he had finally found something that was close enough to his tastes so as to be "acceptable" to him, even if it was only barely that.


Richard shook his head at the thought of the faerie with an entire gothic lolita wardrobe; it would certainly be interesting. Crimson proudly held up a black tee-shirt with what looked to be some death metal band's logo on it for his approval, then her happy expression suddenly soured as her eyes darted past him. The shifter began to turn when he heard the fae's lifted voice.


"Unhand me, you withered hag! Richard, help! I'm being abducted!"


He spun away from the cart to see... oh no. Withered hag was a good description from the woman's pinched expression. Permed, bleach-blonde hair in a pixie cut. Cheap power suit. And a teen girl who stood nearby with a cart, facepalming and blushing so hard it was surprising that she hadn't exploded. A Karen, the scourge of all shoppers and menial workers the world over. Fan-freaking-tastic.


"What's the problem here?" Richard demanded as he hurried over.


"Are you his father? Why are you letting this little boy look at dresses? Why is he wearing these frilly clothes in the first place? What are you trying to do to him? I should report you for child abuse!"


The shifter blinked, then glanced down at the diminutive fae lord. Knowing what Angelmaris was, it had never occurred to him, but the fae was... short, childlike, and cute. He was barely taller than Richard's waist and looked somewhere in the realm of 10-12 if you weren't aware that he was older than most civilizations on Earth. And this crazy lady had a death grip on his upper arm, shaking it while the fae clung to another pair of dresses, one in either hand. This wasn't going to be fun no matter how it was sliced, but there was nothing the human could do besides defend his vassal as host and liege lord. Otherwise he would be breaking the laws of hospitality (and probably some other ones) and subject to the penalties.


"Ma'am, first off, I'm not his father. He's his own man. Second, he's not a child. Third, what he wants to wear is his own business. Fourth, if you don't release him immediately, I'm going to call for security, and maybe the police. You might currently be on the hook for battery, at the very least, and if you don't move away immediately, I'll be pressing as many charges as possible as soon as the police show up. Lastly, if you don't let him go, he's perfectly within his rights to defend himself, and I won't be held responsible for the results."


She gave him a look that combined offense, outrage, shock, and a beached fish for a good half a minute before the teen, whom Richard suspected was her daughter, took hold of her free arm and began dragging the woman away. She began to sputter and hiss once she was moving again, but the girl was firmly insistent on getting her away from the situation. Richard heaved a huge sigh of relief, glad that it hadn't escalated further. He watched the woman until they went into an aisle and vanished from view, then turned his attention to Angelmaris, who was looking between the shifter and the harpy with an unreadable expression.


Eventually, the fae said simply, "Thank you. I am... surprised. Grateful, but surprised."


"You are his now; I protect what is his the same as him," Crimson explained.


Richard jumped. He hadn't even noticed that she had crept up right behind him, nearly glued to his back. The fierce look in her eyes might have had something to do with the Karen's lack of opposition to buzzing off.


"You're my guest and vassal," Richard added, trying to get his heart back under control. "It's my duty to protect and defend you."


"Did you mean it about defending myself? Am I allowed that?"


"Yes, but we'll talk about it when we get home. I need to figure out some ground rules for that."


A mischievous grin spread across Angelmaris's lips, but it faded under Richard's stern glare. "Ahem. Very well, then. Now, where do they keep the boots in this fashion wasteland? I need to find something to match these robes."


The shifter let out an amused snort and gestured back towards the cart. He had never expected clothes shopping to be so entertaining, though he hoped the hag would leave them be for the rest of the trip.





Tags:


Summary: