DragonFly
By AAnnR
Playlist for this Story:
~ You Are Not a Robot by Marina and the Diamonds
~ Possibility by Lykke Li
~ This Is What Makes Us Girls by Lana Del Rey
~ Team by Lorde
~ Ashes Falling Like Snow by Lily Kershaw
~ Hang On by Active Child
~ I'm a Lady by Santigold
~ Beauty Queen by Foxes
~ We Remain by Christiana Aguileria
~ Demons by Imagine Dragons
~ Bones by MS MR
~ This isn't Control by MS MR
~ Sad Dreams by Sky Ferria
~ Utopia by Goldfrapp
~ Send Me Down by HAIM
~ Real Love by Regina Spektor
(The songs for this story, if you would like to listen to them while reading, are uploaded to my youtube channel as a playlist. ~ AAnnR)
Large thanks to my beta: xXEmiShaeXx You're amazing!
Chapter One:
From the safety of my mistress's room, I sat on the window well watching the blizzard tear its way through the city. Wind whistled, taking snow in its folds, jerking the flakes through the air and throwing pieces against the ground, on walls, and through alleys. In a chaotic way, it was beautiful; more mesmerizing than the stunning array of furniture, tapestries, and linens around me.
Compared to the hectic storm, the stillness of the room was unnerving. The combined breathing of my mistress and I were the only permeation of sound, a large difference of volume to the wind. I was reminded of those nights in the orphanage when I would stay up thinking and be hypnotized by my peers' sounds of sleep.
Soft rustling caught my attention. My head jerked to the sound and I watched as my mistress finished rolling over before settling back down. After a couple of moments, I sighed. I stood, careful to close the curtains, and left the room, shutting the door behind me.
Outside of the room, in the corridor was a reflection of previous decor. The white walls held thick framed oil paintings, harvested by famous Hunters from around the world. One of my mistress's favorites was hanging near the front entrance. A priceless piece, recovered from ancient ruins near Koliari. My mistress loved the painting for its simplistic style. For much the same reason, I loathed it. The subject's haunting vision was deep, emotions hidden with colors her mistress was much too young to fully understand.
The grandfather clock rung, five deep tones indicating the time. I followed the cream marble to the vast staircase. Passing several cleaning maids, I walked past each one keeping their eyes to the front. It was common practice to pursue tasks in the mansion with quick precision, no hired hand had time for idle chatting. The only words permitted to be spoken were instructions of summons. As for daily duties, most chores were recorded on a massive green chalkboard in the kitchen. Listed names and bullet points indicated their tasks.
At the ground floor, I turned down a few hallways before entering the main kitchen. Personnel rushed around franticly. Cooks shouted orders to and fro, maids scurried in and out of the side exits holding cleaning supplies and fresh linens. Along the back wall individual trays of hot food sat on the counter, names attached to the top of each platter. Moving with careful quickness, I rested my mistress's platter against my hip and the crook of my arm. I exited through a door to my right, down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. Several servant entrances later, I pushed open the door to my mistress's room.
I sat the tray on a small table near the window and removed the tray lid, setting up the table ware, placing the plates of food in the middle, and a clean plate on a lacy place-mat. I filled two glasses, one with water, the other with hot chocolate. Finished, I lit several incense candles on my mistress's dresser before moving to flip on the light switch next to her bed.
Bright, intense light filled the spacefrom the crystal chandelier in the center of her room. My mistress groaned, burying herself deeper into her sheets. I rolled my eyes and stood there for a moment, giving my mistress a moment to leave the confines of her bed. When she did not do so of her own vocation I gripped the edges of her covers and yanked them off of her.
My mistress lay there, curled in a ball, her eyes scrunched tight. "No." One arm unfurled from her body, searching for the blankets that were no longer on her bed. Instead, they were planted in an untidy mess on the floor.
I placed my hands on my hips and stared at her. When she didn't move I retreated to her dresser and began to pull out clothing, under garments, a skirt, a blouse; I set them at the foot of her bed. Then, on her vanity, I switched on her straightener and pulled her cosmetics and brush out for her to use.
Again, my mistress groaned, "Why do I have to get up so early?" I glanced at her, now on her back and hugging a pillow to her chest, phone in the air above her. Her blonde hair splayed on the bed around her. The phone lowered itself on the bed and she lifted herself to stand on the floor. She quickly discarded her clothes and replaced them with the clothes I had set out. Casually, she flicked her wrist towards the table of food and a roll quickly jumped into her hand. Taking a bite, she sauntered over.
She pointed to the hair brush and flicked it up to me, "I'm thinking french braid, how about you?" I nodded, grabbing the brush from thin air and set to work. Reaching around her, I gathered a pocket full of bobby pins and a hair tie, which I slid on my wrist.
Many maids and butlers were unsettled by my mistress's ability. While I could agree cognitively floating objects were not normal, I was not bothered by the talent. I found it slightly humorous to witness the reactions of staff when my mistress would move something out of place, or throw things three times her body weight without touching them.
Running a brush through her hair until it was smooth and workable, I started from the top of her head and worked my way down. While I toiled over her hair, my mistress started cleaning her face, removing traces of make-up from the night before, and allowing the alcoholic substance to cleanse her pores. When her face dried, she levitated her foundation, an invisible hand making long strokes around the edges of her face. Next came eye liner, eyeshadow and mascara. By then, I had finished off her french braids, and stepped away to make up her bed.
Placing the last pillow into place, my mistress sighed, "Done!" She stood and went to her dresser to select a couple pieces of jewelry and put them on. She turned to me, "What do you think?" I smiled and nodded, giving her a thumbs up. My mistress rolled her eyes, "You're paid to say that, Maarii." I clutched my hand to my heart, feigning being shot. She laughed, "Whatever."
I smiled at her laughter. Being seventeen and the only heir to her father's company, I rarely saw her smile outside of her social circle. As her personal maid, I often took it upon myself to amuse her, especially after a hard day of school and tense corporate matters.
When my mistress moved to leave, she paused for a moment and turned back to me. "Oh!" She gushed. "Remember, Neon is coming over today!" Oh geeze. I thought. "Don't give me that look! She happens to be my best friend, so I expect everything to be perfect." Her hands spread apart, gesturing widely around her. "I will tell the head butler, just make sure the preparations are ready."
I nodded in acknowledgment,not wishing to go against my mistress's desires. Bowing low, I heard the door open and close, marking her departure.
