I yawned as I heard the rooster in the yard crow his morning greetings. I had drifted off to sleep while sitting next to the fire. As I came to my senses, I realized that I had put bread in the oven. With a quick curse, I jumped up and grabbed the paddle. As I pulled the bread out, I heaved a sigh of relief. It was just short of burned and was completely salvageable. The head cook would flay me alive if I wasted food because I had fallen asleep on the job. Relieved, I leaned backwards, not even thinking about the oven directly behind me. I felt the piping hot stones against my back and jumped forwards with a yelp of pain.
Scorched and embarrassed, I was grateful that I was alone in the kitchens at least for one more moment. I pulled my wavy hair forward to examine the rich golden mass for signs of having burned. It looked like I had gotten off easy this time, my hair was largely undamaged. I had placed so much of my attention on addressing my hair that I hadn't heard the head cook come up from behind me.
"Slacking on the job again?" he growled, "I'll show you what happens to lazy workers in my kitchen." He slapped me across the face hard, sending bright lights dancing across the inside of my eye. The force of it sent me reeling and I fell to the ground. I knew better than to shout or show pain, that only made him hit harder. He stood over me for a brief moment, then grunted at me to get back to work. I bit my lip and tried to ignore the pain engulfing the side of my face he had hit, but I could feel that I was about to start crying. I collected myself enough to grab a basket to begin collecting eggs, but by the time I had reached the coops, tears were falling from my eyes. I hated him so much, I wanted to leave, but I would never be able to get the gold together to do it. I was lucky to have gotten this job, I reminded myself.
I had been raised in an orphanage; they told me that I was found on a winter night without any identification. The woman at the orphanage had named me Ariana, because she had always liked music. She had sung to us when the little ones were scared, and the tune came back to me now. I hummed quietly to myself as I collected the eggs, and I tried to think about happier things.
"That's a lovely tune," said a voice behind me quietly. I gasped and turned to find a woman in a cloak with a low hood carrying a basket of apples towards the castle.
"I'm sorry, my dear, I didn't mean to frighten you," she said. She started to ask me a question, but stopped when I turned the rest of the way to see her. She looked from my eyes to my cheek. Based on the heat I felt, I guessed that the skin there would be a deep raw red. The woman's eyes went dark and angry and her nostrils flared slightly. I flinched, afraid that I had upset her too. She must have seen the fear in my eyes because she sighed and took a single deep breath before smiling at me in a forced way and saying in a terribly gentle voice, "Tell me who did that to you." She seemed to think she was going to be able to do something about it and I shook my head quickly at her.
"No, please. He'll hurt you too if you try to help."
She seemed to be stopping herself from laughing for some reason and said, "You don't need to worry about me, dear. Just tell me who did that to you." At this point, she put a cool hand gently against my cheek, calming the raw nerves and looking into my eyes. I didn't know why, but I trusted this mysterious woman with the basket of apples. I told her about the cook, about how I rejected his advances when I had first started working there and about how he had made my life miserable ever since. As I spoke, the corners of her mouth turned down slightly and she seemed to be thinking about something. When I finished, there was silence for a moment. When she spoke again, it seemed as though it were because she had made a decision.
"You had best come with me," she said, standing up. She twirled the cloak off of her body and placed it around my shoulders. Now plainly visible to me was the Queen herself. I squeaked in shock and tried to curtsy where I sat. All I managed to do was fall over though. She rolled her eyes and sighed as I regained my feet.
"Here, hold this basket," she said, handing the apples to me and marching towards the kitchens. I followed her, unsure of what else to do. I could hear him yelling at some of the other kitchen staff and couldn't help but shake at the sound of his voice. She noticed and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"You can wait here," she said kindly. Relieved, I sat on a nearby rock. Moments later, I heard a woman shouting at someone and a loud, echoing bang; a billow of black smoke rose from the kitchen chimney. The Queen exited the kitchen and walked briskly towards me, a small bit of ash on one cheek.
"Follow me," she said, pulling me to my feet. I thought of protesting, but I realized that I had nowhere else to go. I certainly wasn't going back to that kitchen. I nervously trotted behind her, and we both walked up a small hill and to the inner wall of the castle. She was quiet on the walk, but I saw her glance at my face a few times and purse her lips slightly. Once, I tripped, and she gracefully caught my arm, preventing me from falling completely. When we entered the castle, she increased her speed slightly, gesturing for me to follow. As we swept down various corridors, I noticed that she looked taller than I had thought before and she seemed to exude a sense of power that was mysterious and entrancing. We turned more times than I could follow, then she slipped behind a tapestry, holding it open slightly for me.
We emerged into a sitting room that connected several other rooms. She took the basket of apples from me and placed the fruit in a silver bowl. She then turned around to look at me and smiled.
"Well my dear, I am going to go freshen up some. You should sit down and rest some. Feel free to have an apple; you look hungry." She waited long enough to see me nod before she walked briskly away to an adjacent room. I stood nervously next to the apples, unsure of what to do with myself. I certainly wasn't going to sit on one of those beautiful chairs in my filthy clothes. I heard water splashing merrily into a basin in the other room and relaxed a bit. I gently picked an apple from the bowl and took a bite. It was crisp, sweet, and juicy and probably the best thing I had ever tasted.
Cautiously, I began wandering around the room. It was large and comfortable looking and there was a roaring fire in the fireplace. On the walls were shelves of books and various trinkets. I did not touch them, but I admired the leathery old books with their loopy scrawled titles. On one shelf was a beautiful glass bird with a flower in its mouth. It looked almost real as I watched the light dance off of it. Next to the shelf was a mirror. When I glanced into it from where I stood, I could see the Queen faced away from me bent over a wash basin. She was rinsing her face and neck and had apparently taken off her dress in order to keep it from getting wet. She was wearing a beautiful black shift that draped her body and left most of the skin on her back exposed. It was beautiful and I found myself both aroused and intrigued by this woman.
I had heard so many stories about the Evil Queen, but meeting her and seeing her kindness towards me made me wonder who could possibly see her that way. She paused and looked up, seeming to sense that eyes were upon her, but I was able to turn quickly around before she saw me watching. She emerged only a moment later in a soft silken robe and crossed the room to pour herself a drink. There was silence in the room as she moved to a chair and sat down elegantly. She began to say something, but words flew out of my mouth,
"Thank you so much for your help today Your Majesty. You are so kind and gracious and I will never be able to repay you but I would so very much like to be able to-" I probably would have kept going, but she held up a single finger to stop me.
"What is your name?" she asked me.
"I am Ariana Thorn, Your Majesty," I said with a wavering curtsy and a slight blush. My last name was cause for embarrassment. It revealed that I was an orphan to everyone. She didn't really seem to care though.
"Ariana," she said thoughtfully, "That is a beautiful name." Unsure how to respond, I stayed silent. She was looking me up and down, and finally her eyes landed once more upon my cheek. Based on past beatings, I imagined that the red mark was turning to a purpling bruise and I could feel that it was swollen.
"Does it hurt very much?" she asked, gesturing towards it.
"No," I lied with a quick smile. She could tell I was lying though, and said, "Let me look at it." I stepped forward a few paces and kneeled next to her, making it easier for her to access. She smelled like apple blossoms and some sort of fragrant smoke. She placed her hand gently against my sensitive skin and I winced slightly. She pulled her hand back slightly and said,
"Don't be scared," and without further explanation, waved her hand. I felt smoke against my cheek and suddenly the pain was gone. I gasped at the immediate relief and ran to go look in the mirror. My face was free of both mark and pain, and I was so happy that tears were running down my cheeks. She quickly walked up behind me and began to say,
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just-" I turned around and kissed her full on the mouth. She kissed me back, in an explorative way and then pushed me back gently, saying,
"Is that how you thank everyone who's nice to you?"
I thought for a moment and then answered,
"I thought that was what you wanted. I'm so sorry. You must think me an absolute fool!"
She looked me over slowly. I felt her eyes reading me easily, trying, I think, to understand me, but I felt more at ease under her gaze than I had for much of my life.
"I don't see a fool. I see a woman who has had to please others to survive. I don't envy you, it's not an easy life." She seemed to let her mind wander in thought before she continued on,
"Perhaps there is something I can do to help turn your luck around. Why don't you come work as my personal chef? I'll pay you whatever you think is fair and you'll cater to my appetite. And of course, I can ensure your safety and respect in the palace kitchens."
"I don't know what to say, Your Majesty. How can I ever thank you?"
"I think this time, a kiss would be an appropriate show of gratitude. Feel no obligation, however. I want you to have a chance to feel what life can be when you start doing the things you want."
She put a clear emphasis on the word 'you' and our eyes met. I could not remember ever feeling like I was free to do as I wished before. It stirred a sense of excitement in me. I did want to kiss this woman, I realized. Still holding eye contact with me, she seemed to be able to hear my entire inner dialogue. She smiled as I approached her and with a sudden, urgent passion, I kissed her. Her lips were soft and she tasted of sweet wine. Her hands went to my hips and she began to pull back from the kiss. I wanted more though, and leaned forward, moving my arms around her graceful neck. She stiffened slightly, but relaxed some when I broke the kiss and whispered,
"I would very much like to thank you properly, if I may." Desire flashed in her eyes, but there was still hesitation there too.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" she asked. I kissed her again in reply, this time pressing my body against hers.
"I've never stopped to think about what I want, until now."
I pushed her against the stone wall and she grimaced in pain at the jagged edges in her back.
"I'm sorry," I said, awkwardly.
"It's okay," her hand pressed against my cheek and she leaned in to kiss me.
For the first time I could remember, I felt genuinely aroused and bit her lip in excitement. She moaned in response and my entire lower region caught fire. She let me control the situation, but I could tell that she was fighting her instincts. More gently this time, I backed her against the nearby couch and set my fingers free to wander. My hands caressed the silken fabric of her robe, and I traced her collarbones up to her neck. She was breathing hard and had her eyes closed. Focusing on her body, I placed my lips gently against her neck just below her pulse and nibbled at the skin there. She gasped and thrust her breasts out slightly, prompting me to cradle them in my hands. I teased and played, stroking the sensitive skin as I explored her body. I could tell she was doing her best to keep herself in control, but her body was almost shaking.
After a moment more of this, she very gently took my hand and pressed it against her hot, wet core. She looked almost desperate as she looked in my eyes and said,
"Please. This is torture," in a desperate voice. I kissed her and felt this new part of her with probing fingers. She gasped and moaned as I touched her and she was grasping the fabric of the couch, every muscle in her arms tense and shaking. I kneeled to the ground, and opened up the front of her robe. Eagerly, I pressed my tongue against her clit and moaned into her. She came into my mouth, but before she could recover, I flicked my tongue over it again. I played with it in my mouth, licking and sucking on it at irregular intervals and pushing her to new heights of pleasure. One hand wove fingers through my hair and pulled me closer against her. I made her orgasm four more times before pushing her backwards onto the couch. Without hesitation, I thrust two fingers deep inside of her dripping center while renewing the efforts of my tongue. She was all but screaming in pleasure as I pushed her over the edge several more times. Finally, I looked up at her and decided she had enough. I made her come one last time before slipping my fingers out of her and standing up to kiss her on the cheek.
"Thank you," I whispered in her ear.