Riff Raff was absolutely furious.
He'd dragged himself to his tiny room after a long day of toil, filthy and exhausted. Grabbing his towel, robe and shower supplies, he was on his way to the communal bathroom in the servants' quarters when he happened to glance toward the room normally occupied by the Prince's manservant. The room had been empty for a couple of weeks, ever since the young man who'd held the post left the Royal Family's employ in order to tend to his own ailing parents. However, it was empty no longer. The door was slightly ajar, and a large suitcase was open on the bed.
Before Riff Raff could investigate further, a smashingly handsome young man came down the hall toward him, a friendly smile illuminating his face. Extending his hand to Riff Raff, he said, "Hello."
Riff Raff knew who this must be, but he had to hear it. Grasping the newcomer's hand, he said, "Hello. And who might you be?"
Despite the slightly arch tone in Riff Raff's voice, the young man's smile didn't falter. "My name is Rocculus. Please call me Rocky. I'm His Highness's new manservant."
Riff Raff was gripped by a wave of blinding rage, but struggled to hide it. Painfully forcing himself to smile, he responded, "Hello, Rocky. My name is Riff Raff. Welcome to the Palace."
"Thank you, Riff Raff. I feel very fortunate to be here. I'm sure I'll enjoy it."
"Yes...I'm sure you will. Now if you'll excuse me, I must freshen up before dinner."
With the sound of Rocky's "Nice to meet you!" ringing in his ears, Riff Raff walked with exaggerated composure into the bathroom. To his great relief, he was alone. He couldn't bear the thought of attempting polite conversation with anyone else at the moment. He undressed, climbed into the shower, set the water flow as hot as he could stand it, and considered his situation.
Ten years. He and his sister had been working for the Royal Family for ten long, wretched years, ever since their parents died. He had been seventeen years old, his sister Magenta fourteen. Since neither possessed any useful skills, they'd been assigned the most menial positions. His sister became a scullery maid, mopping floors and washing dishes. He was assigned to the gardener's staff, spending his days raking, spreading manure, and weeding.
Both Riff Raff and Magenta were miserable, but they told themselves that once they'd proven themselves reliable and hard-working, they'd get more desirable assignments. It was a reasonable expectation, but one that was, as yet, unfulfilled. All these years later, they were still doing the very same jobs they'd been assigned the day they'd first walked into the Palace.
When Riff Raff had learned the Prince's manservant was leaving, he saw a glimmer of hope. Admittedly the leap from gardener's assistant to Prince's manservant was a vast one, but he couldn't help but hope his many years of loyal service would be rewarded. He passed word to the Queen's Lord Chamberlain that he was interested in the position, and waited to see what would happen.
Not that the idea of catering to the every whim of the spoiled young Prince was especially appealing, mind you. As far as Riff Raff was concerned, being worshipped by millions literally all his life had given Frank an ego of epic proportions, and an utter lack of interest in those less exalted than himself - in other words, virtually everyone. Riff Raff still smoldered with indignation when he remembered his one, and so far only, encounter with Frank. Riff Raff had been digging a flower bed when Frank walked past, on his way to talk with the head gardener about the creation of a garden in honor of his mother's birthday. Frank gave Riff Raff a sidelong glance, then turned away in a gesture of complete indifference. Riff Raff knew he wasn't supposed to directly address the Prince, but being treated like a complete nonentity by this person barely more than a *child* was more than Riff could bear. Pasting a false smile on his face, he called out, "Good morning, Your Highness.
It's a beautiful day today."
Frank had stopped dead and turned to look at Riff Raff, with an expression of both surprise and disdain on his handsome face. In an elegant voice devoid of any trace of warmth or interest, he replied, "Yes. And I'm sure one of your fellow *servants* would greatly enjoy discussing the weather with you. I'm afraid I have more important matters to attend to." Without another word, he'd walked away, leaving Riff Raff red-faced with embarrassment and anger.
However, Riff Raff was so unhappy with his current job that the prestige of the position more than made up for the annoyances inherent in dealing with the Prince and his attitude. Both the Prince's manservant and the Queen's lady's maid enjoyed great power amongst the servants, with large bedrooms, private bathrooms and - most importantly - the privilege of access to the two most powerful and adored people in all of Transsexual among the highly coveted perks they possessed. Besides, the work was not physically demanding...particularly desirable to Riff Raff, who at twenty-seven years of age was already developing a hunchback from the many hours spent bending over while working the soil.
So needless to say, it was a particularly bitter pill to swallow when he met Rocky. Not only had he not gotten the position, he hadn't even been allowed to interview for it. No, instead of being willing to reward a loyal servant of long standing, the Queen and the Lord Chamberlain had gone outside the palace walls to hire a complete unknown. Admittedly he was a particularly *attractive* complete unknown, but a complete unknown all the same.
Riff Raff scrubbed his skin with particularly violent vigor, as his physical actions began to mirror his emotional state. It appeared he was condemned to live out his days wallowing in the dirt, just as his sister would spend the rest of *her* life with dishpan hands and calloused fingers. Apparently they didn't present the proper *image*, and *that* was why they hadn't advanced.
A cold sense of determination began to compete with the white-hot anger. *No*. They were *not* going to live the rest of their lives that way. They both deserved better. Somehow, some way...he'd see that they received it.
He'd dragged himself to his tiny room after a long day of toil, filthy and exhausted. Grabbing his towel, robe and shower supplies, he was on his way to the communal bathroom in the servants' quarters when he happened to glance toward the room normally occupied by the Prince's manservant. The room had been empty for a couple of weeks, ever since the young man who'd held the post left the Royal Family's employ in order to tend to his own ailing parents. However, it was empty no longer. The door was slightly ajar, and a large suitcase was open on the bed.
Before Riff Raff could investigate further, a smashingly handsome young man came down the hall toward him, a friendly smile illuminating his face. Extending his hand to Riff Raff, he said, "Hello."
Riff Raff knew who this must be, but he had to hear it. Grasping the newcomer's hand, he said, "Hello. And who might you be?"
Despite the slightly arch tone in Riff Raff's voice, the young man's smile didn't falter. "My name is Rocculus. Please call me Rocky. I'm His Highness's new manservant."
Riff Raff was gripped by a wave of blinding rage, but struggled to hide it. Painfully forcing himself to smile, he responded, "Hello, Rocky. My name is Riff Raff. Welcome to the Palace."
"Thank you, Riff Raff. I feel very fortunate to be here. I'm sure I'll enjoy it."
"Yes...I'm sure you will. Now if you'll excuse me, I must freshen up before dinner."
With the sound of Rocky's "Nice to meet you!" ringing in his ears, Riff Raff walked with exaggerated composure into the bathroom. To his great relief, he was alone. He couldn't bear the thought of attempting polite conversation with anyone else at the moment. He undressed, climbed into the shower, set the water flow as hot as he could stand it, and considered his situation.
Ten years. He and his sister had been working for the Royal Family for ten long, wretched years, ever since their parents died. He had been seventeen years old, his sister Magenta fourteen. Since neither possessed any useful skills, they'd been assigned the most menial positions. His sister became a scullery maid, mopping floors and washing dishes. He was assigned to the gardener's staff, spending his days raking, spreading manure, and weeding.
Both Riff Raff and Magenta were miserable, but they told themselves that once they'd proven themselves reliable and hard-working, they'd get more desirable assignments. It was a reasonable expectation, but one that was, as yet, unfulfilled. All these years later, they were still doing the very same jobs they'd been assigned the day they'd first walked into the Palace.
When Riff Raff had learned the Prince's manservant was leaving, he saw a glimmer of hope. Admittedly the leap from gardener's assistant to Prince's manservant was a vast one, but he couldn't help but hope his many years of loyal service would be rewarded. He passed word to the Queen's Lord Chamberlain that he was interested in the position, and waited to see what would happen.
Not that the idea of catering to the every whim of the spoiled young Prince was especially appealing, mind you. As far as Riff Raff was concerned, being worshipped by millions literally all his life had given Frank an ego of epic proportions, and an utter lack of interest in those less exalted than himself - in other words, virtually everyone. Riff Raff still smoldered with indignation when he remembered his one, and so far only, encounter with Frank. Riff Raff had been digging a flower bed when Frank walked past, on his way to talk with the head gardener about the creation of a garden in honor of his mother's birthday. Frank gave Riff Raff a sidelong glance, then turned away in a gesture of complete indifference. Riff Raff knew he wasn't supposed to directly address the Prince, but being treated like a complete nonentity by this person barely more than a *child* was more than Riff could bear. Pasting a false smile on his face, he called out, "Good morning, Your Highness.
It's a beautiful day today."
Frank had stopped dead and turned to look at Riff Raff, with an expression of both surprise and disdain on his handsome face. In an elegant voice devoid of any trace of warmth or interest, he replied, "Yes. And I'm sure one of your fellow *servants* would greatly enjoy discussing the weather with you. I'm afraid I have more important matters to attend to." Without another word, he'd walked away, leaving Riff Raff red-faced with embarrassment and anger.
However, Riff Raff was so unhappy with his current job that the prestige of the position more than made up for the annoyances inherent in dealing with the Prince and his attitude. Both the Prince's manservant and the Queen's lady's maid enjoyed great power amongst the servants, with large bedrooms, private bathrooms and - most importantly - the privilege of access to the two most powerful and adored people in all of Transsexual among the highly coveted perks they possessed. Besides, the work was not physically demanding...particularly desirable to Riff Raff, who at twenty-seven years of age was already developing a hunchback from the many hours spent bending over while working the soil.
So needless to say, it was a particularly bitter pill to swallow when he met Rocky. Not only had he not gotten the position, he hadn't even been allowed to interview for it. No, instead of being willing to reward a loyal servant of long standing, the Queen and the Lord Chamberlain had gone outside the palace walls to hire a complete unknown. Admittedly he was a particularly *attractive* complete unknown, but a complete unknown all the same.
Riff Raff scrubbed his skin with particularly violent vigor, as his physical actions began to mirror his emotional state. It appeared he was condemned to live out his days wallowing in the dirt, just as his sister would spend the rest of *her* life with dishpan hands and calloused fingers. Apparently they didn't present the proper *image*, and *that* was why they hadn't advanced.
A cold sense of determination began to compete with the white-hot anger. *No*. They were *not* going to live the rest of their lives that way. They both deserved better. Somehow, some way...he'd see that they received it.