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tamingthemuseTitle: The Emperor’s New Clothes
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Butterfly
Warnings: none
Rating: G
Summary: The Emperor, just like the rest of the population, needs fitted for new clothes.
Ix’an was the most powerful man in the world.
Not physically, of course, as the emperor was a slight man, lithe of form and thin of frame, but politically. He sat atop a throne that commanded the largest army their world had ever seen, the grandest empire ever created.
And he had created the empire himself, through clever word play and a sharp mind. Kings from across the desert flocked to stand under his banner and gave him their allegiance.
Ix’an was the most powerful man in the world, but he didn’t act like it, his maids often said amongst themselves. As they cleaned his room and dusted the halls, there was much gossip about the strange man that was their liege lord.
The emperor was born a king, and overthrew his father once his father’s rule became too cruel. One maid, Shisha by name, had served in the castle when Ix’an’s father’s ruled and often recounted the terrible time the young king had gone through. She often wondered how he had turned out so completely different than his father.
Where his father was a large man with heavy fists, Ix’an was all that was polite and genteel.
Dala, the emperor’s personal maid who cared for his hair and clothes, came rushing into the kitchen one late morning and clapped her hands in excitement. “Ladies, the tailor has arrived!”
At once, the women in the kitchen began chattering in excitement and Shisha had to hush them with a stern glare.
“We have duties, girls, no time to spend ogling the tailor’s new works.” There was a collective groan of disappointment. The group of girls grudgingly returned to work on their various tasks. Shisha gave a nod of approval before allowing a smile to grace her lips. “I’ll be sure to arrange a time for each of you to see what’s new.”
There was a choirs of cheers and the gossiping resumed and Dala eyed Shisha with a smirk. She stepped up to the kitchen matron and bumped hips with her.
“You’re such a sucker for the clothes of the emperor.”
Shisha smiled again and murmured, “Aren’t we all?”
Dala selected a tray laden with candies and sharbat before twirling out of the room on her heel and back toward the emperor’s personal chambers.
Before she had left the chambers, she had tied the emperor’s hair up and out of the way. As she reentered the massive room, she paused, a flush coming to her cheeks as she saw that the emperor was stepping up on a small step, dressed only in his white under-robes. The white of the silk was brilliant against the dark of his skin and brought a rosy hue to his cheeks.
She quickly looked away from the sight of the so undressed emperor and set the tray on a side table. She stepped away and bowed her head, allowing her hair to hide her eyes as she stared at the scene.
The tailor stepped up behind the emperor and helped him shrug on a bright red robe over the under-robe and deftly tying it in place. The emperor shook out a few wrinkles and looked himself over in the grand mirror.
The vivid red robe was contained by a black lining on the collar and hem, and hid the white under-robe completely from view. As he inspected the article of clothing, the tailor knelt to make minor adjustments to the hem, nodding and murmuring to himself.
After the red robe was finished, a second robe was applied over the first, this one a bright yellow.
More adjustments were corrected and then a final layer was applied. The outer-robe was by far the most decorated, a white silk robe with gold trimmings and hand sewn patterns in red thread. It hung longer in the back, which the tailor flared out behind Ix’an. The emperor pointed out a particular design he liked and the tailor explained that his wife had done it all herself.
The emperor nodded his approval and allowed the bindings at his waist to be tied in place. First came a bit of cloth that spanned from his upper chest down to his knees over the final robe. The corset was black, embossed with yellow thread, trimmed once again in gold. Over that went a sash of bright red that tied into a bow at the back with two long trails of light silk that followed the line of the train of the over-robe toward the ground.
The emperor spent a moment staring at himself in the mirror before glancing at the woman standing silently beside the treat tray.
“Well, Dala? What do you think?” He raised his arms and the long, heavy silk sleeves of the robes fell out in graceful waves at his sides and the gold shimmered in the sun’s light flowing through the open lattice doors.
Dala bobbed a bow and fought the blush staining her cheeks. “You look like a butterfly, sire.”
That startled a laugh out of the emperor and even the tailor gave a chuckle. The emperor turned back to the mirror and gave a firm nod. “Then it will do to impress the court, will it not?”
“Indeed, sire.”
Suddenly, Ix’an tugged the pins out of his hair and allowed the floor length black strands to fall down his back. He waved a hand toward Dala. “Fetch the crown.”
Wide eyed, Dala rushed to the cabinet and carefully unfolded the silk hiding the crown from view. She plucked the heavy ornament from its pillow and brought it to the emperor. He took it from her and placed it over his black mane and tossed the silk trails over his shoulder to tangle in his hair.
The crown was a thick band of gold embedded with amber stones and diamonds. There were two lengths of silk twined around the back in an intricate knot at that back, making the source of the tails. The silk was thin and white, woven through with gold thread.
It had belong to his father, and his father’s father, and so on for as back as the record goes. Ix’an had often treated the thing as if it were no more than a cloth veil and was known to Dala to toss the crown away from his person when particular vexed.
He didn’t do it this time when he pulled the crown off. “Perhaps not,” he murmured then gave it back to Dala to replace in the cabinet.
While she had her back turned, the sash and corset had been removed and they were working on untying the first robe.
The emperor was quickly stripped back down to only his under-robe and Dala stepped up to replace the pins in his hair, holding it out of the way. A simple robe was brought out, silk once again, and a bright purple in color.
He pulled the robe over his under-robe and tied it in place. It was cinched at his waist with a belt of thick silk dyed a shade darker than the robe. Ix’an nodded once in the mirror and motioned for the robe to be removed.
They went through two more casual robes before the tailor finally was finished and was making plans to finish the final adjustments.
In the end, Dala got to place only two robes in the closet while the other two were taken away to be completed. She sighed over the new robes as she placed them in among the other brightly colored robes.
While she didn’t envy Ix’an his job as emperor, nor his wealth, she did envy him his clothes. All of them were so brightly colored and so beautiful.
So beautiful in fact, Dala could see two other maids peeking though a lattice wall, trying to get a peek at the emperor and his new clothes.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Butterfly
Warnings: none
Rating: G
Summary: The Emperor, just like the rest of the population, needs fitted for new clothes.
Ix’an was the most powerful man in the world.
Not physically, of course, as the emperor was a slight man, lithe of form and thin of frame, but politically. He sat atop a throne that commanded the largest army their world had ever seen, the grandest empire ever created.
And he had created the empire himself, through clever word play and a sharp mind. Kings from across the desert flocked to stand under his banner and gave him their allegiance.
Ix’an was the most powerful man in the world, but he didn’t act like it, his maids often said amongst themselves. As they cleaned his room and dusted the halls, there was much gossip about the strange man that was their liege lord.
The emperor was born a king, and overthrew his father once his father’s rule became too cruel. One maid, Shisha by name, had served in the castle when Ix’an’s father’s ruled and often recounted the terrible time the young king had gone through. She often wondered how he had turned out so completely different than his father.
Where his father was a large man with heavy fists, Ix’an was all that was polite and genteel.
Dala, the emperor’s personal maid who cared for his hair and clothes, came rushing into the kitchen one late morning and clapped her hands in excitement. “Ladies, the tailor has arrived!”
At once, the women in the kitchen began chattering in excitement and Shisha had to hush them with a stern glare.
“We have duties, girls, no time to spend ogling the tailor’s new works.” There was a collective groan of disappointment. The group of girls grudgingly returned to work on their various tasks. Shisha gave a nod of approval before allowing a smile to grace her lips. “I’ll be sure to arrange a time for each of you to see what’s new.”
There was a choirs of cheers and the gossiping resumed and Dala eyed Shisha with a smirk. She stepped up to the kitchen matron and bumped hips with her.
“You’re such a sucker for the clothes of the emperor.”
Shisha smiled again and murmured, “Aren’t we all?”
Dala selected a tray laden with candies and sharbat before twirling out of the room on her heel and back toward the emperor’s personal chambers.
Before she had left the chambers, she had tied the emperor’s hair up and out of the way. As she reentered the massive room, she paused, a flush coming to her cheeks as she saw that the emperor was stepping up on a small step, dressed only in his white under-robes. The white of the silk was brilliant against the dark of his skin and brought a rosy hue to his cheeks.
She quickly looked away from the sight of the so undressed emperor and set the tray on a side table. She stepped away and bowed her head, allowing her hair to hide her eyes as she stared at the scene.
The tailor stepped up behind the emperor and helped him shrug on a bright red robe over the under-robe and deftly tying it in place. The emperor shook out a few wrinkles and looked himself over in the grand mirror.
The vivid red robe was contained by a black lining on the collar and hem, and hid the white under-robe completely from view. As he inspected the article of clothing, the tailor knelt to make minor adjustments to the hem, nodding and murmuring to himself.
After the red robe was finished, a second robe was applied over the first, this one a bright yellow.
More adjustments were corrected and then a final layer was applied. The outer-robe was by far the most decorated, a white silk robe with gold trimmings and hand sewn patterns in red thread. It hung longer in the back, which the tailor flared out behind Ix’an. The emperor pointed out a particular design he liked and the tailor explained that his wife had done it all herself.
The emperor nodded his approval and allowed the bindings at his waist to be tied in place. First came a bit of cloth that spanned from his upper chest down to his knees over the final robe. The corset was black, embossed with yellow thread, trimmed once again in gold. Over that went a sash of bright red that tied into a bow at the back with two long trails of light silk that followed the line of the train of the over-robe toward the ground.
The emperor spent a moment staring at himself in the mirror before glancing at the woman standing silently beside the treat tray.
“Well, Dala? What do you think?” He raised his arms and the long, heavy silk sleeves of the robes fell out in graceful waves at his sides and the gold shimmered in the sun’s light flowing through the open lattice doors.
Dala bobbed a bow and fought the blush staining her cheeks. “You look like a butterfly, sire.”
That startled a laugh out of the emperor and even the tailor gave a chuckle. The emperor turned back to the mirror and gave a firm nod. “Then it will do to impress the court, will it not?”
“Indeed, sire.”
Suddenly, Ix’an tugged the pins out of his hair and allowed the floor length black strands to fall down his back. He waved a hand toward Dala. “Fetch the crown.”
Wide eyed, Dala rushed to the cabinet and carefully unfolded the silk hiding the crown from view. She plucked the heavy ornament from its pillow and brought it to the emperor. He took it from her and placed it over his black mane and tossed the silk trails over his shoulder to tangle in his hair.
The crown was a thick band of gold embedded with amber stones and diamonds. There were two lengths of silk twined around the back in an intricate knot at that back, making the source of the tails. The silk was thin and white, woven through with gold thread.
It had belong to his father, and his father’s father, and so on for as back as the record goes. Ix’an had often treated the thing as if it were no more than a cloth veil and was known to Dala to toss the crown away from his person when particular vexed.
He didn’t do it this time when he pulled the crown off. “Perhaps not,” he murmured then gave it back to Dala to replace in the cabinet.
While she had her back turned, the sash and corset had been removed and they were working on untying the first robe.
The emperor was quickly stripped back down to only his under-robe and Dala stepped up to replace the pins in his hair, holding it out of the way. A simple robe was brought out, silk once again, and a bright purple in color.
He pulled the robe over his under-robe and tied it in place. It was cinched at his waist with a belt of thick silk dyed a shade darker than the robe. Ix’an nodded once in the mirror and motioned for the robe to be removed.
They went through two more casual robes before the tailor finally was finished and was making plans to finish the final adjustments.
In the end, Dala got to place only two robes in the closet while the other two were taken away to be completed. She sighed over the new robes as she placed them in among the other brightly colored robes.
While she didn’t envy Ix’an his job as emperor, nor his wealth, she did envy him his clothes. All of them were so brightly colored and so beautiful.
So beautiful in fact, Dala could see two other maids peeking though a lattice wall, trying to get a peek at the emperor and his new clothes.
