This idea came to me while cleaning my room. It's amazing what you think about sometimes.
Disclaimer: The genius that is ASoUE did not originate in my brain, but in the mind of Lemony Snicket or whatever you want to call him, and he owns it.
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The Baudelaire parents, although being inordinately rich and owning a huge, beautiful mansion, employed no one to work for them, and undertook all necessary work themselves. While on the whole Violet and her brother were against servants, they often wished their parents were not quite so noble when cleaning day came round.
Today was one such day, and Violet and Klaus had been press-ganged into helping clean the large mansion. Such cleaning days lasted from about nine a.m. to at least six p.m. because of the house's size. Today the last place Violet and Klaus wanted to be was at home; the sun was blazing outside, the sky was a brilliant shade of blue and they wanted to be out in the sun.
Violet was helping her mother clean. She hated cleaning, and at that moment she was washing the dust off several shelves in a little-used bedroom. Each shelf contained several ornaments and keepsakes that the Baudelaires had gathered over the years, and she had to take every one off the shelves while she cleaned the wood, dust each object and put it back on the shelf. She sighed in exasperation.
"Do it one shelf at a time," her mother suggested helpfully. "It'll be done in no time, you'll see."
Violet scowled. "It's such a beautiful day, and we're stuck inside! Why?"
Her mother shook her head at Violet's protest. "The house has to be kept clean, Vi, you know that. You wouldn't want to live in a pig sty, would you?"
"I guess not." Violet picked up an ornate candlestick that was a dull grey colour. "Why keep this? It's ugly, I think, not even a nice colour."
Her mother took the candlestick gently from her, and rubbed the damp cloth over it. As she cleaned the metal the true colour started to show through, until it was a bright, gleaming silver.
"Does that answer your question?" she said, smiling.
Violet frowned. "It's beautiful. It wasn't before."
"Sometimes you find beauty is hidden, and you have too look much closer than you normally would to see it. That's why I like to clean the house regularly – the dust hides a lot of things. But if you had looked closer, I think you would have seen that it's really a very pretty candlestick."
"Or you could just use a duster," Violet pointed out.
Beatrice laughed. "You could use that."
***
Violet didn't know why that day, of all days, had come back to her. She lay in the cold, hard floor of her and her siblings' bedroom in Count Olaf's house. She could see the dark sky outside the window, and the silver light of the moon streamed down directly onto her. It would have been pleasant if their predicament wasn't so dire.
Her mother's words spoke in her head. "Sometimes you find beauty is hidden, and you have to look much closer than you normally would to see it."
Violet hoped fervently that Count Olaf would prove to be like that silver candlestick, and inside that lazy, selfish exterior was a good, kind person. She wished it was so, but wishing, while it can bring hope, rarely brings anything else. Wishing would not bring the Baudelaires' parents back, and it would not make Count Olaf a good person.
Violet had seen enough of Count Olaf to judge that he was a bad man, and unlike the candlestick there was no dust – metaphorical or otherwise – covering him and hiding his good side.
He just didn't have one.
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A short li'l fic for you, make sure you leave me a review and some love!