Yay! My first Fic!
So I think I've decided that this takes place sometime in the 1780s-1790s. Between the American Revolution and French Revolution (but it takes place in southern England). Confusing enough for you? Good. Stay confused. I'm writing about a time period I know little about and a country I've never been too. So the more confused you are, the better off I am. Be gentle and use your imagination.
Quick note: This is based off of a poem by the same name, but if you've read it, don't worry, I'm not following it to the T.
Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris and Alfred Noyes…you da bomb. I am not da bomb.
And so it begins…
I was glad for the quiet of the afternoon. It had been only this morning that so many of our lodgers had left back for London. The late season snow, that had surprised us early in the week, had finally melted off enough to tempt them back to travel. Though I doubt they would have stayed much longer regardless of the weather. They all longed for the society that they had, only weeks ago, sought to escape from at our little inn. Whatever their reason, I was glad for their leaving. Their thoughts had been a constant annoyance, loud and rude.
Now, the only company we kept were a pair of older gentlemen that claimed to be writers. I did not dare to question them on this fact, though I never saw them write anything. They rose late in the day and spent most of the remainder napping in the parlor. Only occasionally had I seen them go out for a ride; but of course, that was before the snow. Their nightly activities were only slightly more strenuous. They rose themselves to drink ale and smoke in the corner of the dining room, gossiping with the other tenants. I was often fascinated by these and other habits of different guests of the inn, it was usually the only entertainment I knew.
The inn was a modest building, but clean and comfortable. Off the main highway, we did not attract much attention, but we did well enough in the spring and summer to maintain the business. I had often thought the seclusion of the inn to be the main reason for my being sent here. If there was no one around, there would be no one to discover my odd and inexplicable ability.
Since before I could remember, I had lived here with my grandmother and brother. My parents had died in a flood when I was only five years old, and I remembered very little of them. My brother was older and was affected more by their death. Jason was always a restless sort of boy, always looking for trouble. When the war started with America, he gladly sought out the excitement of battle. He'd left us to fight, but even after the war ended, he chose not to return.
It was always the quiet days that I missed him so dearly. Even now as I washed the windows I thought of him. I had hoped that escaping outside during such a precious sunny day would lift my spirits, but I was wrong. As I stretched for the tops of the glass I remembered how Jason used to come up behind me and lift me up to reach. Though it was all in vain; I was often laughing too hard to remember my chore.
"Do you need some help?" I was startled by the voice and turned to see Mr. Compton emerging from the stables.
"No thank you, Mr. Compton. I was just finishing." I smiled politely as I collected my cloth and bucket. Mr. Compton managed our stables for us and had long since been a fixture in our lives.
"Alright then, miss. Not much to do in the barn with all the company gone. If you be needin' any help, you just call for me." He cleaned his hands on his shirt tail as he spoke and watched as I walked into the kitchen.
Inside, Gran was poking at the fire under her pot, muttering under her breath. I watched with a small smile on my lips and sat down at the table, knowing she was not paying attention and would frighten herself when she turned around and saw me. I was not disappointed. Upon turning she grabbed her chest before giving me a scolding look.
"I've told you before not to sneak up on me. I'm an old woman, you'll be scaring me to my grave one of these days." She wiped her hands on her apron and began chopping carrots
"You don't fool me for a moment, Gran. I doubt that anything could send you to your grave without your consent first." I smiled at her and stood to take the knife from her hand so she could sit and rest. For a few moments we were silent, with only the crackle of the fire disturbing the room.
"Where have you been all day? I haven't seen you since breakfast." She spoke as she tucked some wayward strands of her hair under her cap.
"I helped make up the vacated rooms before I went outside for a bit. It's been a beautiful afternoon. I hope the weather stays so pleasant." Gran had hired a chambermaid, Anne, several years ago when she could no longer maintain the house as she liked. Anne was a quiet girl who kept to herself and slept in the pantry off the kitchen. I often helped her if I was without work because I found her company as peaceful as company could be.
"Sookie, don't get your hopes up. It's still early for such good weather. I'll bet by tonight the fog will roll in and tomorrow will be just as grey. But you should go out and enjoy the day. Go for a ride maybe." She rose and went to start the kettle for tea.
"I would, but that would mean that I would have to speak with Mr. Compton again." I wrinkled my nose in distaste while she had her back turned.
"Sookie dear, what is so wrong with Mr. Compton? Has he done something to offend you?" She took my cut carrots and added them to her stew before taking her seat again.
"No, Gran. But I feel as if he is always around anymore. I cannot seem to walk outside without him asking my opinion on the weather or if I need assistance with a chore." Gran passed me the potatoes to begin cutting but remained silent. "Do you think he is lonely?"
"No my dear," she laughed a bit before continuing. "I believe Mr. Compton has developed a bit of liking for you, Sookie. And why should he not? You're a beautiful young woman, dear."
"Gran! That is an outrageous suggestion. I fear Mrs. Halladay may have infected you with her need for gossip and drama. I will be in the dining room when you come to your senses." There was a smile in my voice as I spoke and I knew Gran would only laugh after I had left the room, but her suspicious were only a voice to my own fears. I would make an effort to not encourage any advances from Mr. Compton in future.
I was preparing the dining room for supper when two men entered the room. I smiled to myself as both Mr. Norris and Mr. Felton made their way to their normal table just as I had finished lighting the lanterns in anticipation for sunset. They beckoned for me and I went to get them both some ale, checking on Gran as I passed through the kitchen. She winked at me as I passed.
"Sookie my dear, it is abnormally dull in here this evening." Mr. Norris commented as I set down his drink.
"Yes Mr. Norris. I'm afraid the Ratray couple and Mrs. Halladay's company have abandoned us just this morning." I smiled kindly at the man, he had been very friendly to me since his arrival. His friend, Mr. Felton was much less amiable. I could tell from his thoughts that he was not nearly as content with the country as Mr. Norris was.
"Well then, I regret a terrible chore has fallen to you. You must sit and talk with us until dinner." He stood and pulled out a chair at the table for me but his smile fell when he saw me hesitate.
"Come now Ms. Stackhouse. If you don't join us, I will have to count on Felton's company, a fate to which I cannot resigned myself." I smiled at Mr. Norris and was about to give in when the sound of a horses and the creeks of wheels over cobblestones filled the courtyard. Mr. Norris heard it too and with a disappointed sigh, excused me to welcome the visitor.
Gran had heard the approach as well and had come out from the kitchen to see our new guest. She wiped her hands on her apron and I could tell she was a bit reluctant for more company, having just gotten rid of a troublesome group. We shared a look, each hoping for a kind and easy guest to emerge, but the look of the carriage did nothing to ease our fears. Despite its muddied appearance it was clearly a private coach, and no expense had been sparred in its making. The driver and footman wore matching coats as well as expressions of exhaustion.
The footman stepped down and opened the door to the carriage. For a few moments, no one emerged. I was beginning to wonder if there was anyone inside when a young woman popped her head out, instantly taking in the surroundings of the courtyard as she extended her hand for the footman to help her down. When she finally registered that I was standing in front of her I made to curtsey but was stopped when her hands grabbed my shoulders and forced me to look her in the face.
"Please tell me you have wine!" Her eyes were bright with excitement and her brunette hair was poking out in all directions from under her hat. I opened my mouth hoping that some answer would form itself in response to such an odd demand but was cut off by another voice.
"Amelia! Contain yourself, girl." An elderly woman was descending slowly from the coach and admonishing her companion as she did. When she had solid footing on the ground she spotted my Gran and made for her, leaning heavily on her cane as she went.
"Are you the mistress of this Inn?" She enquired of Gran.
"Yes Ma'am," Gran bowed her head to the woman. "Adele Stackhouse at your service. This is my granddaughter Miss Sookie Stackhouse."
Gran motioned to me and both woman smiled in my direction.
"I am Octavia Fant and this is my charge Miss Amelia…um…Broadway. We wonder if you have a vacancy. We will need a room for several days at least." She seemed a bit shaken as she spoke and Gran quickly confirmed that we could accommodate them. Upon hearing so, Amelia turned back to me.
"Miss Stackhouse, would you be so kind as to show me to my room?" I smiled at her and nodded but inwardly cringed at the volume and intensity of her thoughts. They were wild with excitement and danced around inside my head as if they were my own thoughts. I tried to create a mental barrier to make her company more tolerable and began to lead her upstairs.
I knew that Gran would want to house these ladies in our best rooms. It was evident from their clothing and mode of transport that they were quite wealthy and therefore used to impeccable accommodations. I led Ms. Broadway to one of my favorite rooms that had a beautiful view of the lake on a bright day. It also looked out onto the road that led from the highway to our little home. I'd often sat up here watching for company when I was little and bored.
"Here we are Miss. Is this to your liking?" I stood at the door and watched as Miss Broadway threw herself across the bed and smiled up at me.
"It's lovely, thank you. But please call me Amelia. I am in desperate need of a confidante my own age and I can already tell you have a kind disposition. We shall be friends." It was not a question. The way she said it left little room for argument, so I simply tried to maintain a friendly smile. "Tell me Sookie, how far are we from the coast here?"
"Well that depends Miss," She gave me a hard stare and I corrected myself, "Amelia. The coast is not far at all, but the closest port is Truro and is nearly two days ride away. Why do you ask, miss?"
"Because the ocean is my freedom and my future!" She stood up and grasped me by the arms before leading me to the chair at the small writing desk and forcing me to sit. "But I cannot do it alone. I need your help my new friend. Will you hear my plan?"
I was only able to nod before she hugged me tightly, perched on the edge of the desk, and began to speak.
"I am in love," she began. "I have just been swept away from the French court and my beloved by my father and Miss Fant. They completely and utterly disapprove, which I find only strengthens my resolve. I was being held in Bath, but yesterday morning I received a letter from my love who promised that he was on his way to my side. Mrs. Fant nearly fainted at the news and decided to hide me away in the country." I felt her sadness and excitement threw her thoughts as clearly as she expressed them with her words. It was quite shocking to meet someone so consistent as to not say one thing and think something quite the opposite. I found myself warming to this new guest faster than usual, and was intrigued by her story.
"Well I dare say that your chaperone has succeeded. We are quite a distance from any large town. But I will help you in whatever way I can, even if it is only to keep you company." She looked a bit saddened at first but then straightened up and continued.
"He will come for me. I know this. He is most likely, at this moment, on my trail and will be here soon. And when he is, we will leave together for America and start a new life." She stared off for a moment with a gleam in her eye and turned back to say something else when Mr. Compton knocked on the door.
"Miss Broadway, where would you like your things?" Amelia motioned for him to set them near the desk and I watched in amazement as he, along with the footman, set down the largest traveling trunk I had ever seen. Mr. Compton smiled at me before leaving the room. Amelia immediately opened the trunk and began to unpack. I could see that she was happy at this task and said my farewell, leaving her in peace until dinner.
Despite Amelia's presence, the evening was quiet and without the uproar she seemed to promise with her arrival. She and Mrs. Fant had eaten dinner alone, despite the requests of Mr. Norris to join his table. The night had cooled, as Gran had predicted, and the fog began to roll off the lake and envelope the inn. After dinner, the guests departed to their rooms to warm themselves in their beds. Even Mr. Norris did not try to tempt anyone to stay and socialize.
I helped Gran clean the dishes and douse the candles before retiring for my own room. After disrobing down to my shift, it became abundantly clear how cold the night was and I wrapped myself into an extra shawl before climbing into bed.
I lay there, trying to will myself to sleep but it seemed like such a far away goal. I felt as though I were waiting for something to happen. Amelia's arrival had put me on edge, along with the strange shifts in the weather. It seemed so indecisive. I tried to think of what I would do tomorrow. Perhaps write to Jason? I had not done so in several weeks. Yes, that would bring me some peace. I smiled to myself and my resolve to write my brother and snuggled further into my sheets. I could just feel the edges of sleep teasing at my mind when my eyes snapped open to the sound of a horse in the distance. I sat up a bit in bed but could not detect the noise that had roused me. I was about to lay back down when I heard it again. Unmistakable this time.
Tlot-tlot Tlot-tlot
I wondered if it was just a rider on the highway that would pass us on some urgent mission. This thought quickly left my mind when the noise grew louder, it was approaching the inn. I listened as the rider came into the courtyard and stopped, the horse vocally protesting against the command of the reigns.
Moments later, there was an unmistakable knocking at the door of inn. I knew Gran would answer the door, she would not want me to open the door alone to a stranger so late at night. But I could not resist a look at the rider. Carefully, I drew back the heavy curtains on my window and gazed down at the courtyard, lit dully by the moon.
The rider still sat upon his horse. His hat was drawn low over his brow and his coat collar pulled up far, obscuring much of his face (no doubt to protect from the cold). The man carried a whip in his hand with the reigns and his other rested on his side, drawing attention to the rapier attached at his hip. His horse stepped anxiously, kicking the fog into spirals that upset the entire courtyard. The movement scarred me. The man seemed a ghost that I prayed would leave rather than stay and haunt us. But he did not leave.
I heard Gran unlatching the door downstairs and was about to leave my post at the window when suddenly the rider's head snapped up to my window. For only a moment did he hold me with his sharp blue eyes before I let go my grip on the curtains and stepped back from the window.
The night seemed infinitely more cold than it had a moment ago.
Ok…how was it?
The second chapter is already underway, but I could be tempted to work faster by some feedback. *hint hint"
Are we liking Sookie's perspective? Or do we absolutely need a glimpse into Eric's mind?
PLEASE REVIEW!