In Beatrice's hand, the pen traced out the words dictated by her master in a series of elegant curves, fine letters flowing neatly and orderly onto the page. So effortlessly did she write that her thoughts were free to wander, tracing lines of their own on the canvas of her mind. Reality grew distant, and she didn't even realize what she was scrawling onto the page until after she had written the phrase “You realize this isn't meant to be a love letter, yes?”
“Ah!” she gasped, lifting pen from paper so quickly that you'd think she was trying to yank away the spent ink. Her cheeks flushed pink, then red when she noticed that she had put more on the page than just her master's words; scrawled into the margins were hearts and flowers. “So sorry, sir!” Beatrice grabbed another sheet of paper and began copying the contents of the first onto it. She avoided her master's gaze at first, but when she heard him chuckle she couldn't glance at him.
Jonathan the inchling stood as big as her thumb, perched atop a pile of books from which he could survey her script to his satisfaction. “Is something on your mind?” he asked, with a look at the other sheet. “Some lucky fellow catch your eye recently?”
“I hardly think it appropriate for a maid to discuss such things with her master,” she said coolly, though her heart still raced. She finished copying the relevant lines onto the fresh page, then folded up the previous one and dropped it in the trash bin. “Shall we continue, sir, or do you mean to keep giggling over it?”
“No, that's enough, I think,” he said, still grinning. “Where did we leave off? Ah, right.” He prattled on the rest of the message, his words reaching her loud and clear. As in so many other areas, Jonathan had adapted wonderfully to working with humans like Beatrice, speaking so clearly and confidently that one might forget they weren't speaking with one of their own.
It wasn't easy for an inchling to make it among humans. Most stayed away from human settlements, and and those who didn't were usually treated with a condescension more befitting a pet than a person. Jonathan, while he was hardly a titan of industry, was at least successful enough in managing a modest business that he could afford a maid like Beatrice to help him deal with the difficulties of living in a city not scaled for his kind.
Working as an inchling's maid wasn't the best paying job, much less the most illustrious. Beatrice had lost count of how many friends and acquaintances had teased her over working for an inchling, sometimes even suggesting she do something to “put him in his place”, as they loved to put it; by now she knew well enough to handle it with an eye roll and a change of topic.
Truth be told, Beatrice had shared that same attitude at first, even if she had more tact than to say so. But Jonathan had turned out to be a better master than any of her previous employers. He was kind and well-spoken, and he didn't try to grope her like some others had done. He showed her more respect than any of them had, and so had earned hers.
Beatrice worked without pause, if a bit more self-consciously than before, keeping reins on herself so she wouldn't scribe anything undue again. And, from time to time, she glanced at her little master, trying to guess at what passed through his mind.
The rest of the letter was written down without issue, then sealed in an envelope and put in her bag to be mailed later.
“Well, that's all regarding my work for the day. Thank you for your help, Beatrice,” Jonathan said.
“It's only my duty, sir. Shall I carry you to your room?” Though in a sense they were already in his room, Beatrice was referring to the little box in which were found her master's bed and clothes and other small amenities more appropriate for his size.
“Hm. You mentioned you'll be going out on errands now, isn't that right?
“That's so. I'll be mailing your letter and pick up some things we're running low on.”
“Then I wonder, if it's no trouble, might I come along with you?”
“You wish to go with me, sir?” Beatrice asked, caught off-guard by the unusual request.
“If you don't mind, otherwise it can wait until some other time. It's just I've been feeling a bit... cooped up, as it were, and I thought fresh air and fresh faces might do me good.”
In her year of service, Jonathan had never left the house nor asked to leave the house except for the occasional business meeting. For all his outward confidence in dealing with humans, Beatrice had noticed just how skittish he really felt around them, in contrast to how at ease he was with her. “I have no objection,” she answered. “Only, where do you propose to ride? I'll need the use of both my hands, you know.”
“Oh, your shoulder should do well enough, I think.”
“As you wish,” she said, holding out her hand for him. Her fingers were perfectly steady as Jonathan set foot on them, his tiny steps carrying him to the middle of her palm, where he held on to the thumb she offered for support while she brought him to her shoulder. It wasn't Jonathan's first time riding with her, and once her hand was in place he took a leap to land on her left shoulder. His hands seized on the white of her apron, then, crawling into position, he sat down and held himself secure with one hand gripping her clothing and the second a lock of her ginger hair.
As always she moved more carefully with him on her shoulder. Not that she didn't trust him to keep his balance on her, but better safe than sorry.
Trying to make her movement seem as casual as possible, Beatrice ran a hand through her hair above her ear, brushing a few wavy locks over her shoulder to help serve as cover for Jonathan. Then, gathering her bag, Beatrice left her master's home. First she stopped at the post office to mail the letter, and from there she headed to a nearby marketplace. It wasn't the one she usually shopped at, but that was for the best.
Though it was inevitable that people would notice Jonathan, by itself that was no problem. There was nothing unusual in people of just about any age being seen carrying some inchling or another with them—“friends of the family” they were called, which in practice meant “pets”—but if he was noticed by someone who knew her, that would bring them too much unwanted attention.
For all that Jonathan had said he wanted to see some fresh faces, he was sure trying to avoid them seeing him. He was uncharacteristically quiet the whole trip, and sat still behind the curtain of her hair whenever someone passed too close. At other times, however, she could feel him moving, tugging softly on her hair for balance as he leaned this way and that and turned to look all around. Beatrice started worrying that he might fall off. He'd survive the fall, she knew, but maybe not being stepped on. She wanted to bark at him to sit still once and for all, but it was hardly appropriate for a maid to berate her master like that.
Once they reached the market place, all his fidgeting stopped and he shrank back, sidling closer to her neck. The crowds were thicker there, and everywhere was heard the murmur of voices and the clopping of shoes against cobblestone. Mostly there were women, alone or in groups, with only the occasional man aside from those manning the stalls.
Fruits and grains and freshly-caught river fish were some of the first things to meet her eyes, but aside from one bag of salt it wasn't food she was after. She found what she'd come for, not among the stalls but in the shops behind them: paper and ink for her master's work, candles and matches to light the growing nights, and a fresh bar of soap were LL weighing down her carrying bag towards the end of her shopping.
She was all set to head back after leaving the chandler shop, but Jonathan tugged at her hair, and when she stopped he stood and spoke into her ear. “Could we visit that shop if you have the time?” Beatrice glanced at her shoulder and followed his pointing finger over to a shop a little ways into an alley, with a sign above the entrance that read “Wilson's Tiny Clothes & Accessories”. This request seemed especially strange to Beatrice, and she waited briefly for an explanation that never came before making her way to the storefront.
Inside, an older woman sat behind the counter, fiddling with something small. She looked up at their entrance. “Good afternoon. Oh! And good afternoon!” she said again as she spotted Jonathan. “I don't believe I've seen your faces before. Are you new customers? How may I help you? Are you here to shop, or to place an order?”
“An order?” Beatrice asked, crossing the little room to speak with the woman.
“Yes, for inchling clothes. Shirts, trousers, dresses, pantaloons, bodices, vests, shoes, hats, slippers, anything you please. Though, it looks like your little one already has a good set of clothes,” she said, looking Jonathan over while he held Beatrice's hair in front of him. “A little shy, isn't he? Well, that's alright. He looks about the same size as my Tom. I can ask him to come out and model for you if you're interested in any clothes you see.”
Beatrice waited for some indication from Jonathan as to what he had asked her to come here for. But as he didn't answer and the awkward silence dragged on, she felt forced to give an answer of her own. “I... simply came to look around. I hadn't seen this place before.”
“By all means look around then, miss! Let me know if you have any questions.”
Beatrice thanked her and walked over to the shelves, looking over the various little trinkets and other such things that lined the shelves. There were some pieces of clothing on miniature mannequins, both male and female, for children and adults. She glanced at Jonathan as she looked it all over, but he seemed to be busy staring at the shelves. She still didn't understand what he had wanted to come here for, or even if he wanted to stay, and she was worried that she was making a fool of herself.
Beatrice slowly rounded the store just looking at everything, waiting for Jonathan to tell her what he wanted. When she came back around to the counter a couple minutes later, he still hadn't said a word. “Anything catch your eye, miss?” the woman asked her.
If Jonathan didn't want anything then there was no point in staying here, but leaving just like that would be too awkward. Without thinking, Beatrice reached out and snatched a small pouch from the shelf—a carrying bag for inchlings. “How much for this?” she asked. The woman quoted a price. “I'll take it.” She pulled out some coins and handed them to the woman. “Thank you, and good day.” Stuffing the purchase into her bag, she strode out the building and back into the alley, practically away, not to the house but just to somewhere a bit quieter.
“Would you mind telling me what in the world that was all about?” she muttered once they were alone.
“I'm not too sure, but I think you just bought a carrying pouch for me,” Jonathan coolly replied. “The question is, why?”
“I don't know! I thought we went in there because you wanted something, but you left em out to dry. I had to do something to make it less awkward.”
“So you bought a bag for me?”
“What was I supposed to do? Honestly, sir! I don't want to overstep my bounds here, but I really could use an explanation.”
“I know, I know! I'm only poking fun.” Jonathan chuckled. “The truth is, I wanted to see if I might find someone I knew in that shop. I suppose I got lost in thought when they weren't there. Sorry, Beatrice; I should have said something. Can you forgive me?”
After hearing his explanation, Beatrice wished she could take back her little outburst. “Already have, sir,” she answered softly, and started heading back for the house, following her sense of direction through the unfamiliar streets.
“Thank you.” Jonathan sat at ease on her shoulder now, holding tight to her hair. “I have to ask, though, how did it feel being taken for my master?”
“How did it feel? Awkward, to say the least.”
“Really? Haven't you ever wished our roles were reversed so things could be more in line with 'the natural order of things', as you humans say?”
“No. Not since I started serving you.”
“Hm. And here I thought you bought that pouch of all things to play with the thought of me as your pet.”
“Sir!”
“Relax! I know you're not like that at all. That said, whatever your reasons for buying it, I'm glad you did. It's getting chilly out, and a bit of cover would be welcome right about now.”
Beatrice eyed him askance, wondering if he was joking again. “As you wish,” she said at last. There was a park nearby, and she went to set down her bag on one of is benches so she could take out the carrying pouch. Jonathan hopped on her palm when she offered it, and from there went into the bag when she held it next to him. After disappearing inside it for a moment, he poked his head back out and asked that she pull on the drawstrings just enough to keep too much air from coming in.
“Comfortable sir?” she asked once she'd put the bag over her neck like a necklace, letting it hang down over her chest.
“Very.” Jonathan looked up and grinned. It almost made her smile to see him so happy. “And... sorry if this is too much, but do you think we could stay out here a while longer? Walk around the park, watch the sunset... It's been so long since I left the house, I'd really love a chance to see it. Ah, but I've asked a lot of you already. You don't have to do it today if you don't want to. Maybe we could find some other time.”
“It's no bother at all, sir. I could use a walk myself. Let me know when you want me to take you home,” Beatrice replied, and started walking around the park.
The day was getting dark, and though there was still some time before sunset, it wouldn't be long before the lamplighters were out and about. Still, the weather was nice, and she could see many couples in the park at this time—young men and women or old married couples walking side by side, enjoying the last hour of sunlight under the trees with their reddening leaves. Strange to say, but walking here with Jonathan, she felt a certain kinship with them.
Despite all the worrying and the awkward moments, Beatrice was glad for this opportunity to spend time with Jonathan. She only hoped there would be many more like this to come.
Giantess World
Story Notes:
Tried for a more slice-of-life feel to this one. I still don't fully get this type of story, so I'm not too sure how I did with it, but I'm pleased enough with the result. Either way, I'd love to get some feedback on it.