Epilogue
Her mother fixed her hair for the umpteenth time, muttering, as she rearranged Felicity's traitorous curls, "There are some eligible young men of importance out there, Felicity. Everything must look perfect." Felicity rolled her eyes and grimaced as her hair was tugged again into a low, smooth tail, her scalp burning from each tug, and her mother's insistence that she was going to capture the heart of an eligible young man annoying. The clang of a pot falling stopped Felicity's mother from pulling on her hair anymore, when she went to see what had happened. The steam from all the dishes being prepared in the kitchen instantly caused her curls to go wild again, causing her to sigh and follow her mother.
"Momma, we are serving their dinner and drinks. This is not a place for me to meet someone to court me." Felicity swore the only thing her mother thought about was her being married off. "Who is this party for anyway, and why aren't their servants serving the dinner?" and keeping me from reading Thomas Paine's Common Sense that I snuck from the one of the drunks at the common house.
Her mother's falsetto brought Felicity back to the her reality, "Because Felicity, their son has just returned after five years and for whatever reason, they didn't want their house servants being used, and lucky for us they came to the common house and asked for some servers, female servers," Felicity felt bile rise in the back of her throat as her mother gave her that bit of information. The only time those of money wanted servants from the common house was because they were expected to "perform" after the party.
Felicity let out a rushed, harsh whisper towards her mother as she was handed a silver tray laden with roasted goose, "Momma, we are not women of ill repute. I can speak and write in seven languages one of those being Algonquian! I can figure out complex arithmetic in my head! I would never be someone's after dinner entertainment! And neither are you!" Felicity used her butt to push open the door as she carried a large silver platter holding a roasted goose, and turned to see the candle lit dining room, with a large table surrounded by the upper echelon of the town.
Letting out a huff and plastering on a demure smile, she turned just as her slipper caught on the rug fringe. She felt her body start to tumble as a small shriek escaped her throat as the roasted goose started to slide off the platter. Just as suddenly she felt two strong, callused hands on her waist, keeping her from falling, unlike the goose that hit the floor with a resounding splat. Turning to see who had kept her from falling in embarrassment, she gazed into two ice blue eyes that were staring into her own.
"Artemis, come boy, you will have goose for dinner!" blue eyes yelled, a bit of amusement flickering over their cold depths. If she had blinked she would have missed it, and suddenly a large black animal came running to the goose and immediately clenched the bird in its jaws and greedily took off with it.
Mortified, Felicity could feel all the eyes in the room on her, judging her, and as she felt the redness of embarrassment creep up her skin, she turned away from those blue eyes and fled through the door she had just exited. She ran straight through the kitchen and out the door into the kitchen garden area. She couldn't show her face in there again. She would be lucky if the Queens didn't take the price of the goose out of her money they were to pay her and her mother for working. She waited to hear the dining room fill with laughter over her klutziness, jokes at her small size, but none came. Taking pot shots at the poor working girl, but it never came. It was eerily quiet except for a low murmur. Curious, she crept along the side of the house and came to the dining room window and looked in.
She saw the man with blue eyes, the ones whose hands seemed to singe her skin, sit at the head of the table, looking out of place and uncomfortable in clothes that appeared too small for his build, not that she had been looking at him or how he filled out his clothes, and out of fashion for the day. Even his hair stood out among those gathered, the gentlemen of the day had long hair pulled back into a queue, tied with silk, but his was shorn very close to his head, reminding her of shorn sheep, and the color of golden wheat, not powdered as was the fashion for formal affairs. Instead of being clean shaven he had stubble over his face, looking like he hadn't shaved in a few days. Just looking at the stubble that adorned his chin and neck made her want to scrape it with her nails. Where had that thought come from? She quickly hid her hands behind her dress, embarrassed by her own wanton thoughts and afraid she would act on them if she could.
Felicity saw Mistress Moira Queen look admonishingly at the man that stood out, "Oliver, I'm so sorry about the goose. I will make sure that girl is punished for her mistake." There went the monies for tonight.
"Mother, it was an accident and I won't have you keeping money from anyone, besides, Artemis now has a feast as well. It's fine. The goose was as big as she was, that accident was waiting to happen. I don't know why you didn't just have are regular servants tend to the dinner. Leave the girl alone and let us enjoy dinner, " Felicity heard the voice with an authority that meant the issue had been settled. She stared at the man, Oliver, as he stared at his mother with a fixed gaze that was unnerving, even for her standing outside, and as quick as a blink he smiled at her mother as she served him from her platter as if he had not just disrespected her.
Going back to the kitchen garden she sat on one of the small benches and waited. The crisp air chilling her. She couldn't go home by herself without the owner being repulsive and she couldn't go back into the Queen's house, so she just sat in the cold autumn evening, wishing she had her woolen shawl, which was hanging on a hook in the servants' mudroom.
Hearing soft padding from the side of the house, the dog, Artemis, came trotting to her, with half of the goose still clenched in his jaws, an almost smile on his lips. "Well at least you're having a good dinner and evening." Felicity said to the dog. As if he was listening, he sat down on the ground and laid the rest of the goose on the bench beside her, quirking his head to side in an unasked question. Felicity laughed as she responded out loud, "No, I'm good boy. I may be poor, but I won't share a meal with a dog."
She scratched at the underside of the Artemis's head when she heard a response, "I would much rather share a meal with my dog then with most of those people in that dining room." As she looked for the voice, she saw blue eyes, Oliver, round the corner, his mouth in a firm line, but a small bit of amusement in his voice. "In fact, most nights I have sat next to Artemis and we have feasted on whatever fowl or game was cooked, each taking what we needed." She watched as he sat down next to the goose on the bench and stroked the dog's ears. Artemis, clearly happy, placed his head on his master's lap, his tongue lolling out happily.
"M. Mas. Master Queen, I am so sorry about the goose. I tripped and I couldn't keep a hold of the goose and almost fell and then someone grabbed me and of course you know that because you were the person to grab me and your hands felt so good on me and that's not what I meant and I'm going to stop talking right now." Felicity bit her lip to stop her tongue from going much further and to gulp the air her lungs desperately needed. She continued to bite her lip as she looked at the man whose dinner she had ruined.
"Master Queen is my father, I'm just Oliver, and you are?" his eyebrow quirked up as he asked her. His voice warm and friendly, him mouth taking on a hint of a smile.
Sticking her hand out for a handshake, "Felicity, Felicity Smoak. I speak, read and write in six different languages and I can perform complex arithmetic in my head. I can even speak Algonquian!" Felicity bit her lip to stop her blabbering but was she stopped breathing when her hand was grabbed by his large callused hand, something uncommon for a true upper class gentleman, and shook it gently. The heat his hand sent through her was shocking.
"Well, Miss Smoak, who speaks, writes and reads six languages, it's a pleasure to meet you." With that, he lifted her hand to his lips, placing a breath of a kiss on her knuckle. When she picked her head up to speak there was no trace of Oliver, and then a whistle sounded that sent Artemis jumping up and running towards the house, leaving her alone in the garden.
