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smackenzieAlex sat at the work desk in the front of the shop working on a decorative binding. He wasn’t as much of a creative genuis as Master Damon’s daughter Hazel, who had a fine eye for colors and materials and fancy design. He had a surer touch with the actual crafting of the bindings and was more patient than she was when it came down to figuring out which techniques would work best for which bindings and cover decorations and clasps, or if the book would be well served by a time-intensive fussy cover at all. They worked it out between them – Hazel did a lot of the designing for special orders, and Alex built a lot of the books. Hazel also did a lot of restoration work, and Master Damon supervised. Master Damon’s cat Curt theoretically caught mice that might otherwise chew on the unbound pages and the leather they used for covers and the sinew they sewed the books together with, but in actuality all Curt did was lie around and get in the way. At least he didn’t scratch the press.
The front windows were open to the early afternoon breeze and in case anyone wanted to stick their head in the shop and say hello without having to actually step inside. Alex measured and cut variously colored and patterned leathers for the binding and listened to the noise of the street outside and the noise of Master Damon and Hazel talking about something in the back of the shop. “And this is supposed to make my life easier?” Master Damon was saying, and Hazel said yes, it was, and his answer was “Well, it doesn’t.” Alex grinned to himself. Master Damon was occasionally very resistant to change.
“Well hello there,” someone said from the general vicinity of the open window. Alex’s grin widened.
“Hi Lowe,” he said without looking up.
“I went to the barber,” Lowe said, in that tone of voice that meant he really wanted to say “Look at me!” like a demanding five-year-old. Alex looked up at Lowe leaning on the windowsill and guessed that he’d gotten his hair cut, although there didn’t seem to be much difference between how it looked now and how it had looked that morning, aside from the fact that it had been combed. Lowe’s hair in the morning could generously be described as “bird’s nest.” It stuck up in little tufts, which Alex thought was cute and Lowe thought was a bit annoying.
“It doesn’t look any different,” Alex observed, and went back to his binding. He’d wanted to sew some of the leather pieces together before gluing them to the cover boards, but Hazel had insisted he glue them all separately. He’d drawn a diagram on the front cover board with pencil to help him.
“I got it trimmed. It’s a little shorter.”
“So tomorrow morning you’ll wake up with shorter spikes.”
“Well, yes.” Lowe leaned inside the shop and poked at the cup of pencils and little knives that sat near the window. Alex absently batted hs hand away. “Are you hungry?”
“Did you bring me lunch?”
“Was I supposed to?”
“It would have been nice.”
“I met a girl in the stationer’s shop yesterday where I bought your ink and sealing wax. She said one of the princes is missing.”
“Really?” Alex wasn’t sure he was surprised. The king had seven sons and daughters, and Alex’s parents had sometimes had a hard time keeping track of three. Besides, the palace complex was immense, and someone was bound to get lost somewhere, some time.
“That’s what she said. Are you sure you’re not hungry? She had a dog.”
“I’m not exactly surprised. I am hungry, but I can’t leave until this is done, so unless you bring me food I can’t eat. Big dog, little dog?” Sometimes Lowe could start or continue (or sometimes finish) four conversations in the course of one sentence. Alex had learned how to adjust for his boyfriend’s wild swings from topic to topic without prior notice.
“She had a yellow retriever. She said her name was Hazel, isn’t that interesting?”
“Mmmm.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“She had a yellow retriever and her name was Hazel. Of course I’m listening to you. I can listen and work at the same time.” He could almost feel Lowe pout. Lowe had an adorable, if immature, pout. It made Alex grin.
“Now you’re mocking me.”
“Would I do that?”
“Yes.” Lowe pulled a pencil out of the pencil cup and managed to tap Alex on the head with it. Alex looked up expectantly, and Lowe just smiled sunnily at him. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”
“I’m on a deadline.”
“You’re always on a deadline.” Another pout, although this one was really half a grin. “I still have money. I’ll buy you lunch.”
“Well, this is a surprise, and very generous of you.” Now it was Alex’s turn to grin. He was hungry enough to eat, but he couldn’t stop until he’d finished the front cover at least. He knew if he took a break now he’d lose his momentum and the mental space where he always went when he needed to concentrate on something. It was like reading a book, getting so involved in it that you forgot there was a world outside the pages, but once you were interrupted you couldn’t fall back into the words. And this was his chosen profession and the means by which he would eventually prove his credentials to the bookbinders guild and be able to run his own shop and sell his own work under his own name.
Lowe stuck his tongue out at Alex, but any reaction Alex might have had was cut off by Hazel coming up from the back of the shop and saying “Oh, now, that’s disgusting, put that away before you scare someone.” Lowe made a face at her like an annoyed seven-year-old. She leaned over Alex’s shoulder to check his work. He tilted the cover board up a little so she could get a better look.
“Very nice,” she said. “I think it looks better with each piece glued down individually, instead of sewn.”
“If I’d sewn them I could have done something nice with the stitching,” Alex commented mildly. “Incorporated it into the design.” He couldn’t exactly criticize Hazel – she knew what she was doing as much as he did, and she was the master’s daughter besides, even if she was also only a journeyman and not a guild master in her own right – but he could offer suggestions where he thought they might help, and he’d been encouraged to argue for alternate methods of binding. It wasn’t enough for a bookbinder to know how to do something – he or she had to be able to convince other people (customers and fellow craftsmen) that his way was the best way. The guild firmly believed that without argument there could be no advances inside the profession.
“Next time,” Hazel said. “Hello, Lowe.
“”Hi Hazel,” Lowe said. “Can I take Alex away from you so I can feed him?”
Hazel reached around Alex to run her fingers over the finished areas of the book cover. “I guess,” she said, “if you think you can stop here. Don’t be gone too long, though.”
“Well? Come on.” Lowe dropped the pencil he’d been holding back in the pencil cup and swatted at the top of Alex’s head. “I’ll feed you and bring you back in record time.”
Alex draped a cloth over his book cover and the pieces of leather he’d cut but not glued down. He stood up, stretched, cracked his back, untied his hair, pulled it back and retied it, and went outside so Lowe could take him to lunch.
words: 1301
total words: 17,321
The front windows were open to the early afternoon breeze and in case anyone wanted to stick their head in the shop and say hello without having to actually step inside. Alex measured and cut variously colored and patterned leathers for the binding and listened to the noise of the street outside and the noise of Master Damon and Hazel talking about something in the back of the shop. “And this is supposed to make my life easier?” Master Damon was saying, and Hazel said yes, it was, and his answer was “Well, it doesn’t.” Alex grinned to himself. Master Damon was occasionally very resistant to change.
“Well hello there,” someone said from the general vicinity of the open window. Alex’s grin widened.
“Hi Lowe,” he said without looking up.
“I went to the barber,” Lowe said, in that tone of voice that meant he really wanted to say “Look at me!” like a demanding five-year-old. Alex looked up at Lowe leaning on the windowsill and guessed that he’d gotten his hair cut, although there didn’t seem to be much difference between how it looked now and how it had looked that morning, aside from the fact that it had been combed. Lowe’s hair in the morning could generously be described as “bird’s nest.” It stuck up in little tufts, which Alex thought was cute and Lowe thought was a bit annoying.
“It doesn’t look any different,” Alex observed, and went back to his binding. He’d wanted to sew some of the leather pieces together before gluing them to the cover boards, but Hazel had insisted he glue them all separately. He’d drawn a diagram on the front cover board with pencil to help him.
“I got it trimmed. It’s a little shorter.”
“So tomorrow morning you’ll wake up with shorter spikes.”
“Well, yes.” Lowe leaned inside the shop and poked at the cup of pencils and little knives that sat near the window. Alex absently batted hs hand away. “Are you hungry?”
“Did you bring me lunch?”
“Was I supposed to?”
“It would have been nice.”
“I met a girl in the stationer’s shop yesterday where I bought your ink and sealing wax. She said one of the princes is missing.”
“Really?” Alex wasn’t sure he was surprised. The king had seven sons and daughters, and Alex’s parents had sometimes had a hard time keeping track of three. Besides, the palace complex was immense, and someone was bound to get lost somewhere, some time.
“That’s what she said. Are you sure you’re not hungry? She had a dog.”
“I’m not exactly surprised. I am hungry, but I can’t leave until this is done, so unless you bring me food I can’t eat. Big dog, little dog?” Sometimes Lowe could start or continue (or sometimes finish) four conversations in the course of one sentence. Alex had learned how to adjust for his boyfriend’s wild swings from topic to topic without prior notice.
“She had a yellow retriever. She said her name was Hazel, isn’t that interesting?”
“Mmmm.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“She had a yellow retriever and her name was Hazel. Of course I’m listening to you. I can listen and work at the same time.” He could almost feel Lowe pout. Lowe had an adorable, if immature, pout. It made Alex grin.
“Now you’re mocking me.”
“Would I do that?”
“Yes.” Lowe pulled a pencil out of the pencil cup and managed to tap Alex on the head with it. Alex looked up expectantly, and Lowe just smiled sunnily at him. “Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”
“I’m on a deadline.”
“You’re always on a deadline.” Another pout, although this one was really half a grin. “I still have money. I’ll buy you lunch.”
“Well, this is a surprise, and very generous of you.” Now it was Alex’s turn to grin. He was hungry enough to eat, but he couldn’t stop until he’d finished the front cover at least. He knew if he took a break now he’d lose his momentum and the mental space where he always went when he needed to concentrate on something. It was like reading a book, getting so involved in it that you forgot there was a world outside the pages, but once you were interrupted you couldn’t fall back into the words. And this was his chosen profession and the means by which he would eventually prove his credentials to the bookbinders guild and be able to run his own shop and sell his own work under his own name.
Lowe stuck his tongue out at Alex, but any reaction Alex might have had was cut off by Hazel coming up from the back of the shop and saying “Oh, now, that’s disgusting, put that away before you scare someone.” Lowe made a face at her like an annoyed seven-year-old. She leaned over Alex’s shoulder to check his work. He tilted the cover board up a little so she could get a better look.
“Very nice,” she said. “I think it looks better with each piece glued down individually, instead of sewn.”
“If I’d sewn them I could have done something nice with the stitching,” Alex commented mildly. “Incorporated it into the design.” He couldn’t exactly criticize Hazel – she knew what she was doing as much as he did, and she was the master’s daughter besides, even if she was also only a journeyman and not a guild master in her own right – but he could offer suggestions where he thought they might help, and he’d been encouraged to argue for alternate methods of binding. It wasn’t enough for a bookbinder to know how to do something – he or she had to be able to convince other people (customers and fellow craftsmen) that his way was the best way. The guild firmly believed that without argument there could be no advances inside the profession.
“Next time,” Hazel said. “Hello, Lowe.
“”Hi Hazel,” Lowe said. “Can I take Alex away from you so I can feed him?”
Hazel reached around Alex to run her fingers over the finished areas of the book cover. “I guess,” she said, “if you think you can stop here. Don’t be gone too long, though.”
“Well? Come on.” Lowe dropped the pencil he’d been holding back in the pencil cup and swatted at the top of Alex’s head. “I’ll feed you and bring you back in record time.”
Alex draped a cloth over his book cover and the pieces of leather he’d cut but not glued down. He stood up, stretched, cracked his back, untied his hair, pulled it back and retied it, and went outside so Lowe could take him to lunch.
words: 1301
total words: 17,321
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 05:44 am (UTC)I like Lowe and I like Alex, and I like the OTHER Hazel :D and there's even a mention of toast.
s'all good :)
R
no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 06:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 06:25 am (UTC)Hazel and Hazel and Hay
and pouting
and Toast
no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 08:04 pm (UTC)uh, the bookbinder hazel isn't the same as the traveling hazel. i have a bunch of hazels.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 08:06 pm (UTC)he has a cute pout, altho it's kind of better suited for a ten-year-old....
no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 08:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 08:09 pm (UTC)thanks. :>