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 Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 9:19 am
The grinding clank of cast iron on cast iron as the bread oven's door closed sounded the last of the preparatory cooking. At least for Annelie. The meat was still being braised, and the soup was slowly simmering , but the cake was out, and the bread was now in. The other cook would take care of tending to the rest, while she just needed to remember to take out the rolls. Meaning she now had a nice little smidge of free time. Sort of.
Wiping the flour from her face and hands, Annelie moved upstairs, and then up some more stairs, to the top floor where her and her coworkers' rooms were. There she grabbed a shawl, her gloves, and tucked something else into her apron pocket, before going back down to the main floor of the home.
The place was spotless. Wooden floors buffed and polished to a shine that was more like a mirror, the bannisters and mouldings of the walls reflected just as much, and every expensive nicknack and heirloom that her employers had on display, in at least the entry hall, was glittering. But it was also dead quiet. All Annelie could hear was the soft ticking of the old clock in the corner as she stood there, on the last step of the stairs. She looked at the front door, and could see snow falling slowly through the glass panes.
Some guest was expected that evening, hence the cooking and cleaning. Annelie had no idea who, and honestly didn't care much. The Lady of the house was always entertaining people, trying rather desperately to climb higher in status. But now Annie was wondering if the weather might keep them away. There didn't seem to be many people wandering about now.
Ah well, all anyone could do was wait now for the bell to ring. Though not that Annie cared about that either. She'd been barred from answering the door three years ago. So instead she crept out back, the door to the tiny yard propped open a couple inches despite the cold.
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Posted: Fri Jan 04, 2013 11:59 pm
To say that Nimue was unhappy about being sent to call upon the Williams family would be a dreadful understatement. She didn't actively dislike Mrs. Moore, but she was in no mood for small talk, certainly none that included how wonderful it was to be in the city and oh, wouldn't it be lovely to meet another family of similar social stature. Of course, the Williams family was no of the same social strata as the Dolan family, but the Williams family had called upon her family while Nimue had been in Old Castle and society required that she return the favor though she would much rather not. It was loathsome to have to do so, especially when even Nimue, who cared very little for the social pleasantries expected of a woman of her station, knew that the very purpose of Mrs. Williams was social climbing, rather unsuccessfully. It was not so much that Nimue thought herself superior to Mrs. Williams but that she thought that a woman smart enough to be the one orchestrating the social complexities required to do what little Mrs. Williams had done was wasted on something so pretentious and pointless as class. But, as it were, it was more the fact that Nimue had to visit and put up with simpering than who was doing the simpering or why that made Nimue displeased. Nimue wished more than anything else that these people who cared so much for modernity making themselves higher and mightier, always turning towards their "future" would think more about their actions and the harm they did.
They came to a clattering stop, they must have arrived. Lifting the curtain, Nimue glanced up at the modest townhouse that they were stopped in front of. Preferring the simplicity of Old Castle, it meant little to Nimue, but Mrs. Moor could not help but comment, looking out the window from the opposite seat, "Not a very good neighborhood, I would expect more for a family that boasts of a standard of living that the purportedly have."
When Nimue did not answer, Mrs. Moore continued, "The townhouse, of course, is of a decent size, but this area, I would have expected something better. This is not the most respectable place to live, though it isn't in a bad neighborhood of course, but I would have expected it to be more within the vicinity of your family's household."
Nimue, only to stop the chatter, gave a vague noise of agreement before letting her curtain drop. Moments later, the footman opened the door, giving a bow before helping her down, eyes averted as was proper. He helped Mrs. Moore down before continuing to address the young boy who had come out to greet them and to take care of their carriage. Without a word, Nimue approached the front door, trusting Mrs. Moore to follow. The door was promptly opened by the butler of the house and the head maid was there to greet them, an air of bustling warmth about her.
Nimue listened to what the maid was saying, but it was all things that she already knew of. They had just missed tea, the mistress of the household currently retired to her room, but too early for the evening meal. If they had set out just three hours earlier, they would have been in time for dinner. She was invited up to her rooms to prepare for dinner, but there was still over an hour yet. Mrs. Moore was taken by the butler to her own rooms, slightly removed from where Nimue's were, but still close enough. "And if you need anything, Miss Dolan, please don't hesitate to ask."
"Of course, thank you," Nimue answered shortly. She then shut the door and wandered over to the window. Her bags were already settled at the foot of her bed, but it would be some time before they would try and send up a lady's maid to do her hair for the evening meal. Looking down, she spotted a young woman in the back lot. She didn't seem to be doing anything particular and though Nimue wasn't inclined for company, she preferred the outdoors to the indoors and with that woman in the back, she couldn't be compromised or accused of any misconduct by being outside, alone at this time of hour. With that settled, Nimue exited her room, careful to check for Mrs. Moore's watchful eyes before heading back down stairs, skirting around any areas with voices emanating before finally finding her way to a door that seemed to lead to the back. In fact it did; Nimue stepped appreciatively outside into the cool evening air.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 11:46 am
Snow was drifting down in greater amounts now, though the flakes remained large, and their speed slow. Annelie only noticed when they began to find their way onto her hands, landing on her arms like oversized downy feathers. She remained crouched down though, frozen hands trying to arrange the objects from her apron pocket into the rough hole in the wall. The stone she'd take from its place amongst look-alikes and long-gone mortar sat in the snow beside her, a small hilltop of white forming on its surface. It'd soon be buried like the rest of the things in the yard, but Annelie hoped that her small offering would fair better given its hidey-hole, and how the stone wall met with the old tool shed to obstruct a casual looker's view. she doubted Lady Williams would approve of her prying a stone loose from her yard for a felted deer figure and some candied violets and ribbon.
....If such objects would even stay in place.
Eventually Annelie gave a disgruntled sigh and looked over her shoulder towards the door, wondering how much time she had left before she'd be considered missi --
"OH GOODNESS ME."
Panic stricken, and deeply surprised, the maid fell backwards on her bottom before scurrying to her feet to face the unknown guest. THE guest. She didn't even try to brush the snow from her front or bottom, but simply slammed her hands behind her back and stood rigid like a doe in a field. Silently she hoped her skirts were hiding the hole in the wall.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2013 5:34 pm
Nimue had immediately noticed the girl crouched at the far wall of the yard; the neighborhood, having a lesser reputation, could afford to give its residents a yard, while the Dolan townhouse could offer no such outdoors area. Which, in the eyes of higher society, was all the better. She was not naturally nosy, nor inclined towards knowing another person's affairs, but she could make her own conjecture about what a young woman, obviously an employee of the household, would be doing outside in a day such as this, secretively doing something in the snow. Perhaps hiding money for later use like Nimue had once hidden her pin money to fund her trip to Old Castle. And then she looked back, saw Nimue, and fell back before scrambling up. If Nimue were one for propriety she would have questioned the girl's lack of a curtsy or brushing the snow from her person, but lucky for the girl, Nimue cared little for such things as curtsies and removing the gifts of nature. The girl, a young woman, though it was common to call the hired help girl regardless of age, was hiding something.
Nimue wasn't much inclined towards saying anything, she didn't come out here to socialize. Was she slightly curious of what could cause a young woman so much panic, certainly, but only in the most passing way. Nimue was much more enraptured by the snow that was falling down in slow, fat flakes than a young woman whose life was her own, not Nimue's to control. Turning away, Nimue's face barely changed, still cold and disinterested, but there was something softer in her expression here, outside, than when she was inside or forced to interact. She could certainly pretend to be polite, but she was very rarely warm. She was only truly warm with Siobhán; even with her sister she was guarded, too afraid, too guilty, to angry to be truly open.
She would be caught if anyone came looking for the other girl, but for the moment it seemed safe not to care.
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Posted: Mon Jan 07, 2013 8:40 am
Well... Okay. That was different, and not one the scenarios that had whisked through Annelie's head just moments before. Those mainly consisted of her going into non-stop apologies while being berated about indecency, laziness, and lack of proper social skills. But instead she was hardly even given a moment of attention, and had been potentially out-done by mere snow flakes.
Not that she was going to complain it, though there was always the potential to be yelled at later. This alone caused the young woman to speak up and maybe cut some of her in-coming losses. "Um.. eh-excuse me, M'um, would... would you like me to get you anything?" She watched the stranger for a second more, blinking snow out of her own eyes before continuing.
"Perhaps some tea, or ... a dry chair?" What? The lady looked like she was rather enjoying being covered in snow.
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Posted: Thu Jan 10, 2013 4:03 pm
Nimue turned her gaze back to the young woman when she spoke. She seemed slightly flustered and unsure of herself. Nimue wasn't the type to feel pity for others; the fact was that she believed greatly in personal strength and could see very little reason to justify a lack of confidence. The one person to be forgiven was her sister; circumstances had been cruel to her, but for her father, no forgiveness could be spared for his inability to protect something supposedly so precious to him as his family.. However, despite her lack of pity for the discomfit she caused, Nimue was also not needlessly cruel. She could never forgive cruelty against the innocent, thus when Nimue spoke, her voice was even, lacking the cold-sharp edge it often contained, almost the same tone she used with children; it was not as if she was superior, but merely nonjudgmental while she often presumed the worst of her peers and elders, sullied by society and modernity as they were. "No, that's quite alright. I require nothing at the moment."
"Thank you; don't let my presence hinder whatever work it is that you are doing," Nimue added, almost an afterthought. Nimue reached out a hand, turning away, letting the fat flakes settle on her hand. She watched them melt in her palm and on her fingers. She couldn't step out from the overhang because she wouldn't have time to dry the snow out of her hair. Sighing, her breath hanging in the air in a cloud before dissipating. Nimue drew her hand back in, returning it to the warmth of her coat pocket. She wished she could be back in Bridgeton, at least she had two dear ones there waiting for her, or better yet, she wished she could be back in Old Castle where it didn't matter so much who she was. She had only just gotten through the travel and arrival, there was still so much to suffer through.
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Posted: Tue Jan 15, 2013 9:21 am
The response had been more or less expected, albeit in more words than Annelie thought would be used. But either way, she nodded nervously, and turned around to just make sure everything was staying in its cubby hole. With the woman's presence, Annie no longer cared if the little offering looked nice.... its only job now was to just stay where the hell she put it.
It was during this time, when the maid was busy with her own things, that the back door creaked open just a smidge, and a furry little creature hopped out into the snow. The snow under the overhang crunched lightly under its long feet, but otherwise there was little sound from the cinnamon hued rabbit.
It loped lazily over to Nimue, stopping at her side and watching the snow drift down before running a paw along the length of its ear. Its nose never stopped twitching, and actually went faster when it sat back further on its hind feet and extended its neck out to sniff the new woman, pink eyes staring with more intelligence than any rabbit should have.
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Posted: Sat Feb 23, 2013 9:28 pm
The door barely made a sound, but Nimue had always had highly acute hearing, almost preternaturally good. Her mother- Her mother had called it her fae hearing, laughing softly and tucking her hair behind her ears. They had went with her sharp fae eyes and her unnerving intuition. They had always justified it away as a child's natural ability to understand a situation because children did not yet possess the ability to reason their way through a situation. Nimue did not live under the delusion that she was part-fae or a changeling child, she was human, made of flesh and bone, and as prone to injury gashing across her heart as any other. She possessed not the impenetrable internal personage that a fae did, but she also found herself often wishing to align herself with the fae rather than the humans that owned such cruelty as if it were a second skin.
So she looked down at the rabbit, not unnaturally colored, but with eyes that were strange and not to be found on just any rabbit. How strange it was, and larger too than any other rabbit that she had ever seen. Not quite bending down, Nimue did lean closer and though she couldn't be for certain, something told her that this creature was spirit-touched, a product of the Wardwood. It was far from the spirit forest though, but it was a better explanation than most and never let it be said that she doubted the power of the fabled forest. No, not when she had a great creature waiting in the woods behind her childhood home, fierce and strange and a totem settled in an inner pocket under her skirts. She pressed the solid comfort to her leg as she straightened up to continue her contemplation of the snow.
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