this is during madame de pompadour's life

Also i have to thank rivvygirl who helped me turn my dream into reality

"Here this is where you'll be working. And make sure there is no dust anywhere I don't want my dear Reinette catching cold from that filthy fireplace" She took me into this beautiful bedroom. Red and gold Trim circled the walls and ceiling and seemed to drip and blend onto the sheets of the curtained bed set in the center of the room. One large white paned window shed sunlight into the room, making the gold gilt shine in the afternoon glow. I took it all in step, but my gaze paused when I saw the fireplace. Cherry red wood bend and twisted to curve around a deep set fire pit. The metal grate was lightly dusted with fine white ash, proof of a good, long, hot burning fire. The molding was expertly crafted, and despite all of the wealth in the room, I knew that that one piece had to be the most expensive thing here. I tore my gaze away from it and turned back to my employer. "Thank you, I'll start right away Madame De La Motte." I curtsied low and the Madame nodded, satisfied. "See that you do. I'll be back to examine your work in an hour."

She walked out, her hard heels clicking against the expensive marble floor. I looked back at the room, wondering what in the world I was supposed to clean in this immaculate room. Recalling the Madame's warning, I decided to begin with that gorgeous fireplace. I pulled a rag from my apron and dipped a corner into the bucket the Madame had provided me. I placed my hand on the rim to lean over and start cleaning when the ground started moving "Woah!" I was spun around, and suddenly I was in some kind of metal box. Four slate grey walls threw the sound of my startled breath back at me."Hello? Anyone here?" No one answered except for the echo of my own voice. "Hello?!" I asked again, louder. I couldn't hear anything beyond the walls, which seemed to be growing closer... I swallowed hard, trying to stifle the shout that was boiling in my throat. "Help!" I shouted, banging a fist against the wall. My shout bounced around the box, painfully loud in my ears. Something shattered on the other side, but other than that, nothing happened.

'think you silly girl...' I command myself. I reached out a hand and felt along the wall. My fingers brushed against something rough, crammed into the corner of the box. My rag, I realized. I grabbed it and tugged, but the sound of tearing fabric made me stop. The rag would have ripped before it had budged. I wiped my brow, which was suddenly very wet and leaned back against one of the walls. I tried to think of what had made the wall move before. I had been trying to lean over, using the rim to hold me up, when whoosh, I'd been bustled into this box. It must have been the rim. I looked back at the rag. It was hard to see in the dark, but I could still make out the creases where the rag had gotten caught. maybe I could… I reached a hand to my hair, which had been so expertly piled onto my head, and pulled out the long thin hair pin that had held it all together. Blowing my curly locks from my face, I pressed the pin into a crease of the rag and pushed. It pulled through. The rag had made just enough of a space for the pin to slide through the gap. I bent low, angling myself so I could reach the pin up. It hit something, and stuck, but the walls didn't move. I tried again, hoping to hit the very lip of the fireplace. I reached further, straining to keep a grip on the end of the pin as it nearly disappeared through the gap. The pin stuck again, and something clicked. I nearly fell as the wall swung open again. I stood and dusted myself. I stepped back into the room, expecting to see cheery afternoon light making the gold and burgundy bedroom glow, but everything was muted by the colors of twilight. Outside, early stars had begun to rise. I looked back at the fireplace. It sat, as beautiful as ever, yet almost mockingly mysterious. I took a step forward, but stopped as something crunched under my foot. I looked down and recognized the remains of a small table top clock, it's frozen hands paralyzed on the 3 o'clock tick marks, nearly two hours since I had ventured behind little Renate's fireplace.

"You silly little thing. That can't be right." I carefully picked up the small clock and set it back on the mantel. It seemed mournfully silent, as a clock should never be. I stared at the clock face. Though frozen, the small broken figure seemed to be provided a certain life by the fact that, even when motionless, it proclaimed an impossible fact. 5 minutes ago, it had been two hours ago. The darkness outside of the window suddenly seemed even darker. It really was night. Somehow, I had missed a whole chunk of day. I raised a hand to my temple, to check for any sort of bruise that could explain my missing hours. Perhaps I had hit my head when the wall turned. My palm probed my forehead, and then back to my scalp and neck, but no bump bruise, or even especially sore spot jumped out at me. Odd. I guess Time really flies when you're having fun cleaning secret fireplaces...I thought to myself.

I heard something rustle on the other side of the room. I turned, and paused as a pair of big dark eyes stared at me from the bed. A tiny white face peered at me, alabaster hands pulling the bed sheets up to a quivering chin. "Why are you in my room?" Asked a very frightened Renette.

I bowed quickly, trying to recover any form of dignity. "My apologizes little madame. I was just… making sure your fireplace was clean. You mother was worried it would be too dirty to burn anything in. It can get cold during this time of year."

Renette nodded, though she didn't lower her bedsheets.

"Would you like me to light it madame?"

Renette paused, but shook her head after a second. "No. I'm fine." She responded quietly.

I smiled and curtsied quickly. "Alright. Goodnight then madame," I turned, ready to leave.

"But…" Rennette pipped, stopping me. I looked back at her. "My clock." She muttered, pointing towards the mantel. The small broken clock sat crookedly on the shelf. I glanced at the clock, then back at little Rennette. Her wide eyes looked so scared set into her little pale face. Obviously, waking up in the dead of night had startled her past the point of going back to sleep so quickly.

"Oh…" I tutted sympathetically. "You know the funny thing about clocks." I came back around the end of the bed and sat down on the side next to the scared little girl. Rennette stared at me, but loosened her tight grip on her bedsheets a little.

"Clocks can talk."

"They can?" Rennette whispered in awe.

"Oh yes."

"What do they say?"

"All sorts of things. Important things. They tell us when it's time to eat, and where the sun is in the sky, and how long until our souffles are cooked." I said in a quiet voice.

"Souffles?" Rennette asked with a giggle. I pursed my lips comically. "Of course! Souffles are very picky, and can't be allowed to cook too long or too little! If the clock wasn't there to tell me when, I'd never get it right!" Rennette laughed again and finally let her hands down into her lap. Her eyes didn't look quite so scared anymore. She looked over at her clock.

"Why isn't it talking now?"

"It is talking to you Rennette."

"How? I can't hear anything. It's so very quiet. I can't hear the ticking." Rennette complained, looking at the poor broken figure on the sill.

"It knows it's time to go to sleep. Clocks are very smart that way."

"It never stopped before…"

"Well usually you're asleep right now. Can you hear a clock if you're asleep?"

"No."

"That's because clocks know when you need to sleep. After all, all of that ticking and tocking would interrupt your dreams. And dreams should never be broken up."

Rennette looked back over at her clock and smiled slightly. "That's very polite of it."

I smiled back. Rennette had finally let go of her sheets, and I could see the tired droop to her eyelids coming back.

"Yes, clocks are very polite, and very very wise. After all, with all those years of talking and ticking they ought to know a thing or two. Especially when it comes to little girl's bedtimes. You had better listen to that little clock and get some sleep." I said, standing up. Rennette watched me as I got up and grabbed my rag and bucket.

"Thank you." She said quietly.

"You're welcome little madame." I said as I crossed the floor and took hold on the doorknob.

"Wait!" Rennette cried softly as I opened the door. "I don't know your name yet!"

"Why do you need my name?" I asked.

"So I can tell the clock about you when it's done sleeping."

"Alright. Just tell it that the souffle girl was here. Clocks have helped me with so many souffles."

"Souffle girl." Rennette murmured sleepily, trying the words in her mouth. "Alright. I'll make sure to let it know."

"Thank you madame. Good night."