A/N: I went nuts when I got inspiration for this story, loosely based off Beauty & the Beast, but with my own tweaks.
The dawn of the morning broke through the grey skies, the foggy remnants of night disappearing. Throughout the village heavy yawns escaped weary wives, preparing for an early morning of household chores. Cooking breakfast for husbands and sons and gathering their daughters to start cleaning the dirty livestock bustled anxiously for food and attention in the barns and stalls littering the village, waiting for their masters to hurry and wake. The sun shined brightly as it passed over the large church standing tall in the square.
Many families inhabit the village, coming from various backgrounds and social standards. Like in every society, there come divisions among the poor and rich. This quaint village knows all too well the discriminating pupils of power. The families with wealth and class that emerged from their ancestors good fortune and business, old money. Many villagers work hard as farmers and merchants, selling what they have in hopes of good sales.
On this particular morning, a handsome couple with fine silk clothes and jewelry sit at the mahogany table, their young daughter waiting on their slave to serve breakfast.
The middle-aged man,Carlos Lopez, had lived in the small village for a number of years, and after showing exceptional leadership as a huntsman was elected as mayor. Mr. Lopez used to be an honest man with good intentions, but had given up on those intentions when laundering money and accepting bribes became easier. His wife, Mable Lopez, is a successful manipulator, regularly convincing townspeople that paying higher taxes will serve the community as a whole, but in actuality continues to fill the Lopez household's pockets. Playing the perfect housewife.
The last of the Lopez family is Santana Lopez, who has grown in the riches and glamour of wealth, never knowing the reward of earnest hard work. Her parents showered her in the finest gowns, necklaces, and shoes only money could buy. Santana growing up didn't question why her parents wouldn't let her play with children in lower class, but rather accepted it. So at eighteen years of age, she has a circle of acquaintances she may call friends from only the wealthiest families.
Today, she and her friends would go into the market to find more frivolous things to fill their closets and drawers. Santana sits comfortably at the top of the food chain, commanding a fair amount of followers to do her bidding and give her company when she pleases.
Mr. and Mrs. Lopez leisurely drink their coffee and nibble on the semi-toasted bread with jam, reading quietly the books in front of them, freely ignoring the obedient servant laying the napkins across their laps and straightening the silverware.
"Mother, Father." Santana said sternly.
"Yes?" Her father replied without looking up from his book.
"I need money." Santana demanded rudely while smoothing out her dress.
"In my hand-tote sweetie." Mrs. Lopez said indifferently.
"I'll be gone most of the day." Santana stated, turning to snap her fingers at the servant.
"Berry, hurry up. Don't keep her waiting." Mr. Lopez barked.
"Yes sir."
Rachel Berry has been the servant of the Lopez family for roughly six years now, attending to every wish and command, even the most demeaning. She is humble and complimentary towards the Lopez family, knowing that kindness can serve more purposeful than manual labor.
"You'll be joining me in the market today. I don't want to exhaust too much energy carrying all my goods." said Santana.
"Yes ma'am."
"And don't call me ma'am, I'm not old like my mother." Santana replied harshly, sending a snide smirk towards her mother.
"Santana, you may be youngest here, but let's not forget who the classiest." Mrs. Lopez responded condescendingly.
Santana had not even bothered to respond before storming out the front door. Rachel knew that her mistress would grow impatient if she wasn't immediately at her heels with her coat. Rachel could imagine Santana relentlessly tapping her foot and huffing came bustling out of the Lopez home quickly, looking rather flustered having to try and meet the needs of three equally selfish individuals, it was not always an easy task to feat.
"What took you so long?" Santana snapped. Rachel opened her mouth to respond, but Santana was too quick. "Nevermind I don't care." She said roughly pulling her coat from Rachel's grasp.
They walked briskly towards the center of town, where the market was opened in front of the church. It was habitual task for Santana to meet with her friends every week and look around the market to tease and mock the poor, as well as buy needless things.
Santana strode forward past crowds of people, glaring at anyone of them that glanced in her direction, she enjoyed holding power over them, seeing how they cowered at her presence, whether it was her parents they feared or her confident self, she didn't care. It was better to be feared than loved.
There standing at the base of the church stairs were four of Santana's friends, Samuel and Quinn Fabray, Michael Chang, and lastly Sugar Motta. Samuel, better known as Sam was the eldest of them all and held a favorable position among the council in the village with his father Russell Fabray. The Fabray family is the second wealthiest family in the village and maintains control over the trading business. Santana and Sam have had a prearranged marriage since before they were born, both parents knowing full well it will only gain them more money and power to intermingle the families.
Sam has been fond of Santana since she has come of age. He was lucky enough to have a prearranged marriage with the most beautiful girl in the village, but also with the most money, earning a most coveted wife. It wasn't unknown to Santana that she had power over people with her money and her looks.
Quinn Fabray on the other hand was envious of Santana's position of power and beauty, angry that someone like her can be easily overshadowed over a Lopez. She felt she was just as equal if not better than Santana, deserving of attention and glory such as Santana has.
Michael, otherwise known as Mike, is a simple man; he doesn't need much to keep him happy. He was born into wealth, made of old money. He occasionally helps his father with the blacksmith business demands, but mainly spends his time selling his father's goods around the state.
Lastly Sugar Motta, a mistake of a name most of the townspeople think, came from a New England home. Many of the villagers felt her parents were obsessive over tea and hence given her the name, that or insanely mad. Rather annoying gal Sugar may be, but she doesn't hesitate to shower her friends with money for no apparent reason.
"What took you?" Quinn said agitated.
"The Help took too long getting my jacket, so throw your snarky attitude at her Fabray."
"Calm down girls. It's a nice day, no need to bicker." Mike said patiently, placing his arm out for Quinn to take a hold of and escort.
"Tell Lopez it's not ladylike to be late." Quinn quipped turning her nose up and walking away with Mike.
"Don't pay much mind to her, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Sam said, also holding his arm out for Santana to take.
"Well next time get your servant to throw a bucket of cold water on her for me." Santana replied nastily.
"That would be quite a show." Sam chuckled loudly.
"Why is it I never have an escort?" Sugar whined loudly.
"Use Berry." Santana paused for a moment, turning to look at Rachel, who was standing patiently awaiting orders. "You know what, never mind she isn't that worthy. You're better by yourself."
"Mhm, I suppose you're right Santana." Sugar said with a snooty tone, giving Rachel a disgusted look.
Leaving Rachel to follow dejectedly behind, the group strode through the market viewing all the tents set up selling merchandise, vendors eagerly trying to gain the attention of the richest teenagers in the town to buy enough to feed their families tonight.
"Hey look what's over there?" Quinn said tapping Santana on the arm pointing towards a young blonde woman, holding eggs and fruit talking to another vendor about honey.
"Watch this." Sam said,sneaking past them and casually walking by with an arrogant stalk.
He walked behind the girl who was wearing a tattered blue cloak and torn up black boots. Her gown was off-white and looked older. Her blonde hair rested to the side in a neat braid and held a single flower at the base of the braid. The girl looked pleasant chatting with the vendor, unknowing of the trick Sam was about to play on her.
Sam roughly shoulder checked the young woman, effectively hitting the eggs from the basket, watching as each one cracked and broke on the ground. The blonde gasped and spun shocked towards Sam, looking bewildered.
"Oh sir, I'm sorry I must have been in your way."
"Please, it was my fault. Here let me help you in any way I can." Sam said bending down and giving the young woman a charming smile, to which she blushed heavily.
By the side Santana and her friends were having difficulty restraining their boisterous laughs, letting a squeal out in tiny spurts and red in the face, ready to explode with laughter, but remained composed to see what Sam had in stored next.
As Sam reached towards the basket to place what eggs had survived, he slapped the basket out of the young girl's hands and made the rest of the contents smash to the ground, completely ruining everything the girl had just purchased. Her eyes grew watery and her face turned crimson with the sounds of laughter echoed loudly among the market, redirecting all the attention on the poor girl. She covered her face and ran as quickly as she could towards the end of town, all the while Santana and her friends continued to laugh.
"That was quite enjoyable." Mike said giving Sam a pat on the back and wiping a lone tear from his eye.
"Yes, I especially like the fake charm; surely everyone knows you don't have any." Santana cackled.
As they continued laughing down the street, their mood abruptly changed when Santana was paying little mind to where she was walking as she collided with an elderly woman who stumbled into a sack of potatoes. Santana scoffed; appalled that such a woman would not see her clearly strolling down the street.
"Oh mister can you please help me up?" The old woman begged desperately reaching towards Sam with a shaking hand.
Sam stepped forward but Santana slapped a hand against his chest stopping him. He looked at Santana confused and stepped back into place understanding what Santana wanted. Santana glared down at the feeble woman in torn rags. Her face withered with wrinkles, her eyes worn and hurt. She had a cane with a beautifully molded rose on it, with the vine trailing down the cane.
"My, what a nice cane you have. What does an old hag like you have this for?" Santana snickered loudly, yanking the cane out of the woman's hand.
"It was my husband's." The woman replied strongly, working diligently to gain her footing and rise.
"That's a shock you were even married! A woman like you should never have cursed a man with your looks and contagious poverty." Santana threw the cane down.
"And what do you know about curses my dear?" The elderly woman said eerily, picking her cane up. Santana briefly felt a shiver run down her spine at the woman's words.
The group of young adults remained still watching Santana and this woman have a silent standoff, waiting for one to strike first. Bystanders paid no mind to the spectacle, directing their attention to the sales of products and eager shoppers.
"Don't play games with me you old hag, you don't frighten me with your tales." Santana said crossing her arms defensively.
"Until you learn what it means to love and be loved, you will get a personal lesson in curses." The woman said striking her cane towards Santana's heart.
Santana stumbled back for a moment, having the wind knocked out of her. She placed her hand over her chest scanning for any cuts. After seeing none she looked up at the older woman, the hue of green swirls circling underneath her skin going unseen.
"Oh my goodness! Santana are you alright?" Sam lunged forward, cradling Santana.
"You best watch out for yourself. I'll be making your life a living hell!" Santana threatened, retreating back with her friends to Mike's house, where his mother serves as the community nurse.
"Soon that will be your life." The woman whispered under her breath and made eye contact with Rachel. While Santana's friends busied themselves with a breathless Santana, the old woman approached Rachel and said, "Help her. She will need guidance." And with that disappeared among the crowd.
Rachel stood stunned and confused with the message before catching up quickly with the rest of the group and hearing the ordeal being talked about.
"What was the woman's problem?" Sugar asked angrily.
"Has anyone ever seen her before?" Quinn interjected, opening the door to the Chang household.
"Not that I know of." Sam replied.
They walked Santana to a table chair and sat her down gently, as she was still having trouble breathing. She clenched the arms of the chair with a painful grip until her knuckles turned white. She remembered having the wind knocked out of her as a kid, but it was never this painful before. The pain spread through her whole body like continuous ripples in water, slowly but surely diminishing. Her lungs felt restricted though and her body felt weakened dramatically.
"Mother, will you come and help us for a moment?" Mike called out towards the kitchen.
"Ms. Lopez, would you like me to get your parents at all?" Rachel asked timidly.
"No." Santana rasped.
"Inform them of this encounter." She inquired.
"I said no hobbit!" Santana hollered viciously, resulting in Rachel retreating quickly behind the group of people surrounding her.
"Sorry to interrupt, my name is Cheryl Cha-"
"I know who you are Mrs. Chang." Santana said abruptly cutting Mrs. Chang off.
Mrs. Chang was an older woman with sophisticated taste in class and punctuality. Having had fifteen years of nursing as experience, she has witnessed the worst of injuries and best of recoveries. Her hands are aged with delicate stitching and needle work, possessing uniqueness in her practice.
"Is there something then I can help you with?" Mrs. Chang asked impatiently, knowing full well that the youngest Lopez has a very testy attitude.
"Help me breathe, can you not tell I am having trouble?" Santana said annoyed.
"If you give me any further disrespect in my household, then you can leave without any treatment. Am I understood?" Mrs. Chang asked with her eyebrows raised.
"Forget it, Berry help me up and let's go home. I don't need to have any assistance from a woman who will not respect a Lopez." Santana huffed, struggling to get up straight while gasping for another breath.
"Ms. Lopez I think it may be best if we have Mrs. Chang examine you. May-"
"I did not ask you for your two cents! Not that you even have any to give. Keep that in mind next time you feel to speak your thoughts." Santana snapped angrily.
They hobbled out the door awkwardly, leaving everyone in a deafening silence. Santana did not care what her friends thought of her, nor of Mrs. Chang, ultimately she has control in the village and they are under her and her parents thumb. But this was a preface to what Santana really thought. She was scared of what people spoke of her, what they would whisper excitedly about Santana Lopez. She feared their opinions so much, she blocked them out and pretended they were mere nothings.
"Take me through the back gate Berry." Santana ordered once they were close to her home.
"Yes miss. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Stoke the fire and get me a cold washcloth for my head. I wish to lay down for a bit. Tell my parents I fell ill at the market and just need rest."
"Yes miss. Shall I attend to them while you rest?"
"Yes, it's not like they would care anyway if I was sick." Santana grumbled, trudging up the stairs slowly.
"I'm sure they would miss, they just happen to be busy often."
"Being busy for eighteen years is a pitiful excuse."
"I agree miss." Rachel concurred.
Rachel helped Santana out of her extravagant gown and corset and placed a metal pan of hot coals at the foot of her bed with an ice bucket by her desk. A single candle was lit in the room, just enough to see the shadows dancing gracefully across the wallpaper.
"Good night miss Santana, call if you need anything. I'll be at your service."
Santana said nothing in response and rolled over in an effort to find comfort in her sleep.
A/N: Let me know what you think so far:) I've got a few more chapters already finished and just going through some editing