"Wanna Bet?" is © 1997 by Melissa Van Houten and is printed here with permission.
WANNA BET?
Azheri stepped past the open curtain into Doreel's private rooms. He was early for the dinner party, he knew, but Doreel had asked him to drop by and offer an opinion on his latest outfit. He found Doreel there, crooning to the child in his lap. by Melissa Van Houten
Tower year -588
The clothier smiled at his guest as he stroked the girl's honey gold hair. She snuggled against his chest and promptly fell asleep. He signaled for one of his servants and stood to meet the young female who came to him.
"Brenna."
"Yes, Nana?"
Take Vriana," he said, "and put her to bed. If she wakes, tell her I'll be in later to tuck her in." Doreel watched silently as the servant carried the little girl from the room. He was still looking at the doorway when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Azheri smiling at him.
"Your daughter is a beautiful child, Doreel."
Doreel was about to remind Azheri that Vriana was his own daughter when his other servant came down from the workrooms, leading more of Doreel's dinner guests. Deciding to leave the reminder for another time, the white-tressed clothier went to greet his friends.
"Nalkor," he said, taking his childhood friend's hand. "And Ceyte. You're looking lovely as ever." He led his guests to the couches, where his male servant, Yvarr was pouring out some wine for them. As the human was filling the glasses, Peysol and Sharai arrived through the same door Azheri had used. Yvarr filled two more glasses and the six seated themselves until the others arrived.
"So," Peysol inquired, "how are your new designs coming?"
"Splendidly. You have to come see them tomorrow. I got some wonderful inspirations from the last rehearsal."
"Then perhaps you should show them to Mikail," Sharai said, bringing up Peysol's one pet peeve with his former apprentice. Peysol spared a warning glance for his lifemate, but kept silent to see how Doreel would respond.
To Doreel's relief, he was spared the necessity to answer by the arrival of the dancer himself. "Ah, Mikail, come in. Sit down. We're just waiting for the arrival of three more guests and we can begin."
At this, the two humans that served Doreel took plates and napkins from the tall chest in the corner and began laying the table. They'd just finished setting out the flatware when Nez arrived with Lyris and Tanyel.
Doreel went to greet them. He invited them in and turned to his brother. "Where's Silara?"
"Flying patrol," Lyris answered. "It happened at the last moment, and Tanyel came to tell her the news. When she told him she had a dinner engagement, he graciously offered to take her place."
Doreel snorted. "For dinner, obviously."
"Obviously," Lyris agreed as Tanyel chuckled softly. "You don't mind do you?"
"No, of course not." He gestured them to sit; pulling a chair across the room so that he could join them as the servants poured out wine for the last of his guests.
There was enough pleasant conversation to keep all of them occupied until dinner was served.
"Do you know you're giving me quite a bit of competition?" Peysol asked his host as they sat down to eat. "It seems more and more of my regular commissions are coming to you."
"Yes," Azheri added. "Dijin, for one, loves your work."
Peysol nodded. "And Beliel, as well, seems quite taken with your designs."
"Just the other day he was admiring the new gown you made for me," Ceyte said with a smile. "He said he'd wear just about anything you'd made."
Doreel smiled and blushed.
Tanyel clapped him on the shoulder and announced, "I'd bet you could even get him to wear that bedspread Tandeya gave me."
"You mean the one that looks like she tripped over her art supplies after drinking one of Feyhr's potions, saw what she had done and declared it art?" Nez asked with a smile.
"Mm-hmm."
"Nah," Nez concluded, "nobody would wear that bedspread."
"There was a round of laughter, and then the subject changed as the servants brought out the first of Dantum's courses.After dinner, the group informally went back to the couches and settled in, Nez quietly strumming a gitar. Mikail and Peysol were talking between themselves, probably about an upcoming show. Ceyte went over to Nez and started humming along to his music, Nalkor sitting unobtrusively at her side. Sharai and Tanyel were setting up a gameboard for a friendly game of Seven-Square when Azheri sat down beside Doreel and Lyris. "You know," he said to his host, "I think you could get Beliel to wear just about anything." ***** ***** ***** ***** *****
"Except Tan's bedspread," Sharai answered.
"Or pink. He hates pink."
"Can't say as I blame him," Lyris chuckled. "It seems Liera's addicted to the color. I'd hate it too if I found myself surrounded with it for cubes." Then he turned to his brother and noticed a pensive look on his face. "What are you thinking, Doreel?"
"I bet I can get him to wear it?"
"What?" Azheri asked, feeling as though he missed something. "Tanyel's bedspread?"
"No. Pink."
Azi looked at him, his face as thoughtful as his nephew's. "You think so?"
"No way, Doreel," Lyris broke in. "Nobody could pull that off."
"I could."
Now he had not only his uncle's and brother's attention, but Sharai's and Tanyel's as well. "It'll never happen," Sharai said, remembering the rockshaper's tastes from when he'd commissioned Peysol for his clothes.
"Wanna bet?"
"You're on."
Mikail and Peysol broke off their conversation to listen to the exchange. The dancer was chuckling, Peysol simply shaking his head.
"What's the wager?" Doreel asked, the light of challenge coming into his eyes.
By this time, Nalkor, Ceyte and Nez had also stopped what they were doing to join in. "What's the bet?" Nalkor asked.
Lyris took pleasure in answering him. "Doreel says he can get Beliel to wear pink."
Ceyte cocked her head to one side. "I think he'd look good in pink," she said, sounding bewildered.
Nalkor couldn't hold back his laughter if he tried. But Peysol was the first to name a wager. "If you lose," he said, "you design the costumes for Mikail's next show."
"Two shows," Mikail added. "And you dress my uncle."
Doreel sighed. No matter how many times he tried to explain it, he just couldn't seem to convince Mikail that Tyaar didn't want Doreel to dress him. The dancer, it seemed, still believed that Doreel was too insecure in his craft to presume to dress Tyaar. How little he knew. The only one in the Tower that affected Doreel that way was Mikail himself.
"And if I do it?" he said, ignoring Mikail's statement for now.
"I'm not worried," Peysol answered. "You won't."
Azheri was trying to think of something that he would want from Doreel so he could get in on this when Tanyel added his piece.
"It's not enough to get him to wear it," he said. "You could simply offer him a changing robe of that color in your workrooms. No. He's got to wear it in public."
"Fair enough. What do you suggest?"
Sharai looked up from the abandoned gameboard wearing a predatory grin. "Aren't he and Liera throwing a party for Longest Night?"
"Yes," Tanyel answered, turning to his host. "And everyone will be there."
At this point they all turned expectant faces to Doreel. All, that is, except Ceyte who wasn't quite sure what was going on, and Nalkor, who was holding his arms across his stomach, trying to ease the spasms of his laughter.
"Has he come to you for an outfit yet, brother?" Lyris asked with a chuckle.
"No, Doreel answered. "But I'm invited to lunch in three days time. He may ask me then."
"If he doesn't," Mikail said, "suggest it."
Doreel turned to him and smiled impishly. A slight nod of his head told all that he'd accepted the challenge. "All right, then. Beliel will wear an outfit predominantly pink for his Longest Night celebration. You have until three days from now to decide what you are willing to part with when he does."
"Or," Sharai added, "what we'll take from you when he doesn't."
Doreel only shrugged.***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Nalkor was sitting on the sofa in Doreel's private workroom, admiring the landscape on the wall. That particular view of the Old Settlement was a familiar one from their "adventuring" days. Doreel was at his design table, sketching furiously. His childhood friend chuckled softly. "Do you really think you can do it, Doreel?"
"You must, too," came the answer. "You didn't bet."
Nalkor just sat back and shook his head. "Did too. Just not then."
"I don't have a bet with you, do I?"
"Didn't say I bet you," Nalkor answered with a smirk. "It will be something to see, though."
"You'll see it," Doreel said smugly. "I even know how I'm going to do it."
"Really?" Nalkor sat up with a gleam of anticipation in his eye. "How?"
Doreel only smiled. "Not that I don't trust you, but they have until tomorrow to name their wagers. And I want as much out of this as I can get. Perhaps I'll ask Nez to turn it into a story."
The clothier added some final touches to his sketch and handed it to his friend. "What do you think?"
"Very nice. But it's not pink."
Just then, a three-year-old child came running into the room. "Hi, Uncle Nalkor. Brenna said I wasn't supposed to bother you while you were in here," she went on, turning to Doreel, "but you promised to play with me today."
"That I did, sweeting," Doreel answered as he scooped Vriana into his arms. "That I did." With a nod to his companion, he left the room, leaving Nalkor to stare at a sketch of Beliel in an elaborate outfit of tunic and trousers painted a deep burgundy red.***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Doreel was pinning the edges of a deep red linen together. "There," he told his guest, "that should do it. Now all it needs is a lining. The only problem with this material is it has such a rough inner surface."
Beliel didn't know what the white-haired elf was talking about, but he certainly wasn't about to argue. He carefully took off the tunic and followed Doreel into the storeroom. The clothier went to the rack reserved for the silks, and pulled the curtain aside form the red material.
"Could you turn the wick up a bit, Beliel? There, that's much better." He made a big show of inspecting the material before him before he sighed. "I must talk to Iamoriel. All I have here is pink, and a rather bright one at that."
Beliel snorted. "I'm surprised Liera missed the stuff."
"I don't think even she'd wear this one," Doreel answered, shaking his head. "No matter. It's just a lining. No one will see it anyway."
Pulling the curtain back into place, he turned away from the shelves. Walking back towards Beliel, he took the pinned tunic from him and set it on the table. "It should be ready in two days; plenty of time before the party, don't you think?"
"No one is to see it between now and then?"
"Of course not, Beliel. That would spoil the effect. And as my old master says: effect is everything."
Beliel seemed satisfied with the answer. Thanking Doreel, he turned and left.
After his guest had gone, Doreel returned to his rack of silks and took down the brilliant pink material. Carrying that and the tunic, he went into his workroom with a broad smile on his face. "I'm going to enjoy this," he said aloud as he laid the bolt of silk out for cutting.***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Ceyte and Nalkor climbed the stairs to the workroom. Doreel looked up from the worktable. As Doreel walked over to them, Nalkor noticed a satchel on the table surrounded by an array of pins, thread and some lengths of ribbon.
"Hello. Come to get your dress, Ceyte? Follow me."
The lovemates walked after Doreel into the storeroom. He went to his rack of finished clothes and took down an elaborate gown. Ceyte drew in her breath.
"Doreel, that's lovely."
"As only befits you." Then he turned and took another hanger off the rack. "I'm glad you're here as well, Nalkor. I had some leftover material from Ceyte's gown, so I made you an outfit to match. I hope you don't mind."
Nalkor looked suspiciously at his friend. This wasn't the first time Doreel had "had some scraps". Still, he waited while Doreel pulled the protective cloth from the outfit. The clothes were tastefully designed of simple, conservative lines. The colors were moss green and tawny old, and there was a small amount of embroidery around the collar and cuffs picked out in gold thread. It was an outfit that Nalkor would wear, but not nearly as serviceable as he preferred.
"Oh, it's perfect," Ceyte sighed looking back and forth between the two outfits.
Doreel smirked as Nalkor playfully glared at him. They both knew Nalkor would have to wear it now. They also knew Doreel would pay for his presumption the next time they fenced.
"There," the weaver said, "that's settled. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get dressed myself before I go to Beliel's rooms. There are some small matters of decoration I have to take care of."
The lovemates turned to go, carrying their new clothes with them. As they approached the door, Nalkor looked over his shoulder. **Don't forget our bet,** he sent smugly.
**Don't worry,** his friend answered. ** I haven't.******* ***** ***** ***** *****
Doreel walked into his servants' quarters a span or so later. He went to the table where Brenna and Vriana were playing a child's variation of snake bones.
"Oooooooooo," Vriana said with a smile. "You look pretty."
Doreel bowed to his adopted daughter with a smile. "Thank you, fair maiden." Then he went and crouched at her side. "Now, you mind Brenna tonight, and when she tells you to go to bed, I don't want any arguments. If you're a good girl, I'll tell you about the party in the morning."
"But I wanna go too."
"When you're older, pet, I promise I'll take you there myself. And dressed finer than anyone else. But until then you have to be patient."
"All right," she sighed. Then he leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "Good night, precious. We'll talk in the morning."
"Does Uncle Nalkor look pretty, too?"
Chuckling, Doreel answered her as he ruffled her hair. "Yes, Nalkor looks pretty too."
Standing up, Doreel left the room smiling. "And so will Beliel," he whispered as he walked through the door.
When he reached his bedroom he was met by his male servant. "You know what to do, Yvarr?"
"Yes, Nana. When you send for me, I'm to bring you the satchel from the storeroom."
"Good lad. My message shouldn't arrive too late after I've left. But when you go into the storeroom, don't be too quick in coming back out. Make it seem as though you have to find the things that are in the satchel."
"Yes, Nana."
"Well," the clothier said with a nod, "as long as that's straight, I'd best be on my way." Doreel left the bedroom and went up the stairs leading to the workrooms. He went into the storeroom and took the last two hangers from the clothes rack. Checking to make certain the tunic was all right, he picked up the rose colored trousers and burgundy boots that went with it and left his apartments, all the time musing about what he'd do with his winnings.***** ***** ***** ***** *****
Beliel had looked at the pants with a wary eye, but after Doreel assured him it was the only color that would set off the tunic that well, he ad allowed himself to be dressed in them. Now, as he stood before a mirror, he decided the weaver was right. Not only were they the exact shade of the ribbon that wove an intricate pattern along the body of the tunic, and off the trailing sleeves, but they also complemented his lifemate's outfit perfectly.
As Doreel had promised, only a very little of the offensive pink lining of the tunic was visible. The blond elf had again apologized for the brilliant pink silk, and again explained that it was the only material he'd had available. Now, Beliel went over to Doreel for the last minute adjustments the designer invariably insisted on.
"Oh dear," the clothier said as Beliel approached him. "That ribbon isn't lying flat. Come over to the light so I can fix it."
The rockshaper looked down, but couldn't find the flaw. Still, he decided that Doreel knew what he was talking about and went nearer the table so it could be repaired. Doreel pulled the candle even closer to them and pulled a needle and thread from the small sewing kit he'd brought along. He fidgeted with the ribbon for a moment, and then reached to the kit for his pincushion. Bringing his hand back, he bumped the candle, spilling hot wax all over the front of the tunic.
With a small cry, he began to wipe his hand along the spill, driving the wax even further into the weave of the linen. His curses were interspersed with apologies as Beliel watched the cooling wax grow white against the deep color of his clothes. E let out a growl of frustrated anger and pushed the clothier away from him.
"Look what you've done!" he snapped before clamping down hard on his fury. Even now, he didn't dare offend Doreel; he valued his skills too highly to risk angering the designer.
"Take it off," Doreel said in a voice as sharp as Beliel's had been as he reached for the tunic. He didn't allow Beliel time to unlace the cuffs, resulting in the tunic turning inside out as it was removed. Suddenly Doreel's face lit up.
"That's it," he said softly. "That's perfect. I know exactly what we'll do." Nimble fingers quickly released the last of the bindings, and Doreel carefully laid the tunic on the table. He reached for his sewing kit after placing the candle at a safe distance, and took from it a very small awl. He was muttering to himself as he gently pulled the lacing ribbon from the cuffs. Beliel could only stand and watch, wondering what Doreel had in mind. He got the idea, finally, when the weaver began rethreading the ribbon from the inside, which was now the outside.
"You'll just have to wear it inside out," Doreel said, confirming is suspicions. "It's fully lined, so there won't be any problem with seams showing," he went on as if to himself, all the while his fingers working at a furious pace. "It'll need trim, though." He lifted his head to look at his host. "Have you a servant you can spare long enough to run to my rooms? I'll need things from my storeroom, and I dare not waste the time it will take me to get there."
Beliel stared for a moment, horrified, at the bright pink silk on the table, before calling one of the humans to his side. He gestured for the servant to go to Doreel, and walked off to get started on the wine he'd intended to save for later.
"You know where my rooms are?" Doreel asked the man who'd come over to him. When the human said yes, he nodded. "Go there, and tell Yvarr I need the items on the table in my storeroom. I don't have time to give you a list, so just tell him to bring it all. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Honored One."
"Fine. Then go. And tell him to be quick about it."
Turning abruptly away from the servant, he went back to his work, methodically removing buttons from the red linen and sewing them onto the silk. Beliel watched in near awe as Doreel made short work of replacing the decorations on the "lining" of the tunic. Liera had come back into the room. She asked what was going on, but Beliel silenced her with a gesture before she could disturb the busy clothier.
It seemed a span before the human returned with Yvarr in tow. The moment they entered the room, Doreel pulled the satchel from his servant's shoulder and poured its contents all over the table. Taking a length of ribbon, he placed it along the collar of the tunic, pinning it in place as Yvarr began threading needles. In moments, he had trim around the collar, shoulder, hem and cuffs of the tunic, and reached for the first of the needles. As he stitched it on at a furious pace, his human pulled the pins and returned them to their box.
Beliel's respect for the clothier soared as he watched the speed with which the work was done, and in almost no time, there was a pattern of ribbon on the tunic that, if not as elaborate as the original design was no less effective. It wasn't long before Doreel held the finished tunic out to him. He took it and looked closely at the work. The stitches weren't as small or regular as Doreel was known for, but the work was still better than some that he'd seen, and for the time that it had taken it was excellent.
"I know," Doreel said as Beliel examined the trim, "it's a shoddy job. Send it back to me tomorrow and I'll take it out. If I can't get the wax out of the linen I'll redo the whole thing."
"No," Beliel answered. "It's fine."
"This was all my fault," Doreel continued as if he hadn't heard a word Beliel had said. "I will make it up to you. Even if I have to make you an entirely new outfit. But for now I can only say I'm sorry. Let's hope no one notices the terrible job I've done."
Before the rockshaper could respond, they heard voices outside and a human came to inform him and Liera that their guests were arriving. Doreel took the tunic from the Beliel and helped him into it, lacing one sleeve as Yvarr laced the other.
"I'm very sorry," the weaver repeated, smiling inwardly at how well he'd pulled off the dupe.***** ***** ***** ***** *****
"Well?" Doreel said smugly as he walked over to the group that had been his dinner party over a moon before.
"You've won," Azheri answered for them all. "I don't know how you did it, but you've won the bet."
"I told you I could dress him in pink."
Sharai snorted. "And an obnoxious shade of pink at that."
"If I hadn't seen it," Lyris added, "I'd never have believed it."
"Do you know," Tanyel said through his chuckles, "he was actually showing it off earlier?"
Peysol's eyes twinkled as he joined in the conversation. "He said it was the best work you've ever done. I don't agree, of course. You'd done better while still my apprentice. But even so, Beliel seems absolutely enthralled with that--that thing."
Silara was smiling; sorry she'd missed all the fun at the dinner party, although she, like Nalkor, had placed a few side bets.
Mikail laughed outright. "You should have seen our Lord's and Lady's faces when Beliel greeted them at the door." The dancer sent the images to them in case anyone had missed the look of shocked amusement on Tyaar's face. And Tascha had looked about ready to choke. "It was precious."
Tanyel sputtered as he received the sending. "Nez tells me he's already working on the projection." He turned to his friend and nudged him in the ribs. "Aren't you?"
Ceyte still didn't quite understand what they all found to be so funny. "I think it's a beautiful tunic, Doreel."
"Thank you, Ceyte," Doreel said seriously with a small bow.
"And certainly worth the price I'll pay for seeing it," Lyris answered as he clapped his brother on the shoulder and walked away.
There was a moment or two of silence before Sharai said with a grin, "now if we could only figure out a way to dress Dekan in Tanyel's bedspread."
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