The Tailor
Yondu had decided that the food on Stakar’s ship, which he’d learned was called the Morrell, was the best food in the entire galaxy. He’d had no idea that food could taste as good as it did, or that it didn’t always have to look like slop. By the time he was finished, Yondu had eaten more than he would have in a week at the facility and his stomach felt more than a little queasy. He wouldn’t allow himself to be sick, though, too many voices in his head reminded him of what happened to the children in the facility if they were sick. He also just didn’t want to waste such good food.
Once Yondu and Aleta were both finished with their meals, they made their way to the bridge to relay some information to the captain. Aleta had confessed on their way that Stakar was her husband. She then had to explain what in the galaxy a ‘husband’ was, as well as several other things about marriage in general.
Stakar was sat in a large chair with a control console in front of him. There were lots of buttons and levers and knobs. Yondu thought they must all do something, but he kept to himself as Aleta spoke to Stakar. Her hand rested on his shoulder as she leaned next to him to speak, and she gently squeezed before turning back to Yondu. “I’ll show ya around here another day, kid, but I told Nona we’d be down for your fitting twenty minutes ago.”
“What is a ‘Nona’?” Yondu asked, following Aleta down the halls, still very excitedly opening every door they needed to pass through.
“Stakar’s grandmother. She’s very excited to meet ya, from what Stakar said.” Aleta smiled and let out a soft laugh, “She’s been on our asses since Stakar and I got married to have a kid. I think she’ll stop bothering about it now that there’s a kid on the ship.”
Yondu licked his lips and took a deep breath before speaking, “do you not want kids on the ship?”
She shook her head, “it’s not that. I just don’t wanna have a baby. They’re a lot of work, and I’m busy enough with all the shit Stakar’s got me doin’ on the ship.”
“Will I have to work?” He asked softly, his fingers fiddling with the fabric on the bottom of his shorts. He imagined being in one of the engine rooms that they’d passed. None of the men looked very comfortable, and it looked very hot and sticky and dirty, which were things that Yondu really didn’t want to be all day.
“Not right away,” she explained, “and we’ll find somethin’ ya like doin’. But that won’t be for a while. We Ravagers have a code, we don’t make anyone do anything. Especially not kids.”
Yondu simply nodded and continued to walk alongside Aleta. They soon came upon a door where Aleta stopped, “so this is the tailor’s workshop. We’re going to get you some actual clothes here, and if ya need ‘em fixed or changed at all, ya just come down here.” She gestured for Yondu to open the door and they stepped inside together.
The tailor’s space was a wonderful mess of fabrics, furs, and leathers. Large rolls of fabric had been partially unraveled and draped all around, which made the room feel cozy. Near the back of the room sat a small, dark haired, elderly woman. She looked up from the stitching she’d been working on and looked from Yondu to Aleta and frowned, “what have you gone and dressed this poor boy in? You couldn’t find him at least a shirt that fit him? And pants?” She turned to Yondu, “you cold, baby?”
Yondu shrugged, “don’t matter.”
“Pffft,” the woman scoffed, “ of course it matters. You’re gonna be on this ship you’re gonna be comfortable. Are you cold, boy?”
He looked to the floor and nodded a little, “yeh, ‘m kinda cold.”
She nodded curtly with a small ‘humph’, glaring at Aleta before walking around her workspace to a large cabinet. Inside there were piles of clothes that Yondu assumed must have been in different sizes as the woman seemed to be looking for one in particular. She glanced at Yondu and made a small sound of approval as she pulled out a pair of loose-looking pants. “These will fit you, dear,” she said, handing the pants to him, “just until I get your uniform all made up for you.”
Yondu looked from the pants to the woman and smiled a little, “thanks.” He pulled his shorts down and stepped out of them before pulling the new pair of long pants over his legs. When he looked back up the woman smiled at him, gently cupping his cheek in her hand.
Aleta cleared her throat and gestured slightly to the older woman, “so this is Nona. Just in case you didn’t figure that out. I have to step out for just a little bit, but she’ll take good care of you, alright? She has to measure you for your uniform.”
“I’m sure he figured it out, he doesn’t look like an idiot,” Nona snipped, waving Aleta off, “I’ll make sure he’s comfortable. You go take care of whatever mess my grandson has you cleaning up.”
“Fine, fine. I’m on my way out.” She looked to Yondu to make sure he looked comfortable. “Nona will take good care of ya. I’ll be back in a while to chick in, alright?”
Yondu simply nodded, he’d be alright with Nona. She seemed like a nice woman, and he liked how cozy the room was - he couldn’t even tell that he was in just another metal-walled room on the ship.
“Alright. Catch ya later, kid. And Nona - don’t pry too much.” With that, Aleta turned on her heel and exited the room, leaving Yondu alone with Nona.
As soon as the door was shut, Nona grabbed a few things from the drawers around her workspace and seemed to have a spring in her step as she started the fitting. She hummed softly to herself as she bustled around the boy, using her tape measure to get the lengths of his arms, legs, and torso.
Yondu watched the woman working. She was so careful and kind, she wouldn’t yank on his arms or handle him harshly. Each time she needed him to move she would ask him in a soft voice to lift an arm or turn around or shift slightly. It was something completely foreign to Yondu, but definitely not bad.
“This is going to take me at least a day to make, so what you’re wearing will have to do for now. Probably not much of an improvement from what you were wearing when Stakar found you.” Nona turned and went toward a shelf, glancing at a few fabrics before deciding on one that was a deep purple colour.
Yondu shook his head, “these’re better. They ain’t dirty.”
Nona walked back to Yondu and placed the fabric down on her table. She then turned to the boy and placed her hand on his cheek, “baby, if you ever need a clean set a’ clothes, you come to me, y’hear? You don’t have to live like that anymore.” With that she smiled sweetly and continued on to her workspace, humming as she began to measure and cut fabrics.
It was a bit of a shock to the young boy. He touched his cheek where Nona’s hand had been, realizing that he immediately missed the warmth that she emitted. He stood like that for some time, he couldn’t say how long, but he snapped out of it when Nona spoke again. “So you’re a Centaurian. I haven’t seen one of your kind in… A long time, at any rate.”
Yondu nodded, that’s what he was, apparently. Just like the boy at the facility had told him he was. He secretly hoped that one day he could visit his home planet, but it wasn’t something he was going to ask of the captain. For all he knew it could be on the opposite side of the galaxy. And anyway, it wasn’t as though his parents would be looking for him. Or wanting him, for that matter. One soldier always made a point of reminding Yondu that his parents sold him, that he was never wanted by them.
“Stakar told me why they took your fin… Sick bastards.” They must have known how important the fin was in Centaurian culture. From what Nona had learned in her time, they were a symbol of social standing. And if a Centaurian was missing their fin, they were considered lesser beings. Of course, she wasn’t about to tell Yondu this, he was only a boy.
He looked to the floor when Nona brought up his fin, or lack thereof, “I keep thinkin’ it’s gonna be there, but it ain’t.”
Nona nodded with a soft grunt of understanding. She glanced up from her work and let out a small sigh, noticing how broken the boy looked. “Baby, you didn’t deserve any of what they did to you. But in time it’ll heal, and so will you.”
That was somewhat of a confusing statement for a ten year old to grasp fully, but he still nodded in agreement and offered Nona a small smile.
“You can take a seat, if you want. There’s a chair right behind you that you can use, it’s nice and comfy.” She hummed as the boy settled on the chair and returned to her work in the comfortable silence that they fell into.