Chapter Six
Pulsing.
Lacey was running towards it, the flat grass spreading out before her, expanding.
Flaming in the dark.
She felt the speed but not the cold, she felt the heat and the fear but she couldn't feel the throbbing in her foot anymore-
Black Figure –
Laughing, laughing at her while she squeezed and Lacey was still running- she had to stop it this time or -
And he was falling- his eyes empty- just the glow of the heart reflecting back where Graham used to be-
All Lacey did now was dream.
A month.
A lousy month here, Lacey thought bitterly. She was in the middle of mentally writing her fourth article on her slip into insanity, hoping to at least get something out of her time. So, when she heard her door swing open, she continued to lie utterly still, tensing only slightly at the unanticipated visit. She continued tinkering with her Bell Jar reference footnote, trying to find a better word for delusion when she really wanted to say hopeless-
For a moment, he didn't enter and she felt a stab of irritation at him but pushed it away. She didn't want or need his company- she had her own mind- traitorous as it was becoming, especially in sleep…
No, she thought angrily, don't think about it. Now, if I am the victim in this scenario- how does that relate to my childhood- or does it relate more to high school-
The footsteps didn't startle her, deliberate but light, barely noticeable unless one had been locked up with just themselves for a month. It sounds like he's… tiptoeing?
She continued with her second paragraph, wondering how to explain how the magical jailer figure represented her father or some other Freudian stereotype when a sudden weight suddenly fell on her stomach.
"Wakie, wakie, dearie," sang her jailer.
She fumbled madly at the sudden weight, knocking it off her stomach and onto the slab beside her, "The hell-"she ignored his delighted squeal, furious he had been able to get a response from her. She kept her eyes averted; looking peevishly down at the weight to see it was-
"This. This is for me?" She asked in disbelief, not waiting for an answer before snatching it from where it had fallen. The Imp snapped his clawed digits and the chair appeared below him just as he elegantly flipped out his leather coattails, sitting primly before her.
She eyed him, curling her legs up underneath her, clutching the book to her chest. She was dying to open it, flip through the thick bound page, the smell of old paper wafting up to her nostrils. She bit her lip, hard, ignoring the chapped skin's protest before she blurted, "What is this?"
"It's a book," He deadpanned, inspecting his cuff links. She lacked the motivation to glare at him she could only look down. It was a thick tome, similar to old cookbooks she had seen in kitchens- the cover was dark red, leather bound but the pages were not flush with the binding. She found herself absently stroking the spine and forced herself to stop.
But he had noticed. He was staring at her hands, his knowing smirk lurking around the corners of his tight mouth. She slowly released the book to rest in her lap, knowing if he chose, he could magic it away from her and she wouldn't be able to stop him.
"You asked to do something?" he reminded her, waving a hand in impatience. "I assume this will be satisfactory?"
Lacey willed herself not to clutch it, relaxing her grip from the prize. It had been two weeks of slow mental decline, slipping dangerously into her mind, trying to avoid clawing at the walls or screaming in frustration. And the nightmares- god the nightmares… A book was more than she had hoped for, more than she thought this monster would have been willing to give.
"Perfectly," she found herself saying evenly. Her eyes strayed to her pillow, the last "thing" he had given her. She struggled not to name it a gift in her mind- it hadn't been a gift- it had been an afterthought.
She raised her head, chin tilted out defiant. He raised one brow at her, waiting for her thank you. "But I don't want it," she finally managed, sliding it back to him.
She felt prickles behind her eyes, everything in her screaming to grab it back, flip open the front cover and start to read. She didn't care if it was a mechanics book or in a different language- anything, anything to alleviate the emptiness of this cage.
He leaned back from her, teeth bared in a hideous smile. She kept her gaze on his hooded eyes, trying to face the snake as best she could- the book laying between them on the slab of stone- a gauntlet thrown down in challenge.
"Picky are we?" He began, employing a mockingly polite tone as a spear. She waited for him to magic it at her, girding her backbone for the strike. "Why- then perhaps my other gifts were unwelcomed as well?"
She felt the magic building around him. It was a familiar electrical charge, like a summer evening before a thunderstorm, heavy, looming, promising to break over you or suffocate you with the waiting.
She kept her gaze steady; she knew if she looked away the dam would break. The magic continued to build, curling over his features, his long thin hair, swaying slighting in the static. She felt it creeping towards her, the source of his ire. It was searching for her, reaching out for her in the small cramped room-
"Gifts?" She said in a low dangerous whisper, trying to keep her voice neutral. The magic was at her face now, pushing her hair back slightly as it curled around her neck. She jerked away from it, breaking eye contact with him. "You promised me protection and then locked me in a dungeon. You threaten me with every visit and you award me things as if I was supposed to be eternally grateful for your cruelty."
The beast cocked his head, eyes darting to the basin and pitcher on the table. Her new nightgown lay carefully beside the goblet. His eyes flicked back to her, searching her face for any sign of emotion. She kept still, her face blank, breathing slowly and reaching for the calm she never had found in the city yoga studio. The magic pushed down her spine, wrapping around her like a second skin. Lacey kept herself still, turning back to him as the words broke free of their dam.
"I did not ask for these "gifts"," she continued, careful to use her words as a shield. "I asked for something to do, a task so I could earn my keep and you denied me. You have kept me locked up even when I have no intention of running away, God- where would I even go? I'm in a castle in some story tale alternative universe or I'm insane and heavily medicated somewhere in a padded room- and I don't know which one of those realities I would prefer-"
He said nothing, just stared at her with that odd intensity. The magic was still present but it was not as pressing as earlier. It felt more contained, less hostile.
"You are my guardian for this year, Imp but you have chosen the role of warden. So, no. I will not say thank you for these "gifts"," she indicated the things around her, plucking at the blue dress as she spoke. "I will not bow to a thing that looks for fear in those he has promised to protect."
For a moment, they stared at each other, both unsure of what the other was thinking. "I see," he finally said, unmoving. She nodded, knuckles white in her dress's folds. Without meaning to, she glanced down at the book, breaking the stalemate. She swallowed back the other diatribes, trying to find the next thing to say but when she looked back up, he was gone.
Releasing the shaky breath she had been holding, Lacey pressed the palm of her hands to her eyes and rubbed fiercely trying to push back the threatening tears of hysteria. When she finally calmed her heart rate down, she blinked open her eyes to find the book was still sitting on the edge of the bed.
She reached for it with shaky hands. When she grasped the cover, solid and real, she clutched it back to her chest with lighting speed. She laughed for a moment at her foolishness, licking her lips, eyes darting to the closed door like a guilty child before cracking the spine open.
It was only after a few pages in that she realized his disappearance hadn't been accompanied with purple smoke.
A few days later, Lacey was flipping the page of her newly acquired treasure, rereading how to properly sew a button when the door swung open. She finished her paragraph, ignoring the feeling of him watching her before she finally lowered the book to her lap, looking at him through the wisps of her hair. "Well?" She murmured in greeting, keeping the book open in her lap. "Are you here to stare or was there something you wanted?"
"You haven't been eating," He muttered, arms crossed sullenly in front of him. "Is it a hunger strike now?"
She blinked at him, looking away towards her desk and noticing three or four plates untouched. "Oh." She turned her sight back to her book, shrugging absently. "I must have been reading-"
"You look terrible," he grumbled, but it lacked his usual glee. Lacey moved to answer, angrily reaching up to touch her hair when she realized he had yet to enter the room. He was leaning against the doorjamb, silent and cross. His eyes were narrowed on her but he had not moved to enter.
She glanced down to find she was in his usual chair, feet propped up on her stone mattress. She had been getting a backache from reading lying on her side so she had moved to the chair without thinking-
She frowned at him, closing her book in mediation. If she had realized all it would take to keep him out was to sit in his stupid chair, she would have never gotten up from the damn thing. She slowly lowered her hand, returning her eyes to the book, "If you came to insult me, you can do it when I'm asleep-"
"Do you still want to be of service to this household?"
She nearly dropped the book, she stood up so fast. "Yes!" she blurted, before catching herself. "I mean, yes of course, I realize you must have servants or something but I'd be happy to do something-"
He snorted, effectively cutting her off before sharing, "The Dark Castle has neither servants nor tenants. You and I are the only living things here."
Lacey nodded her understanding, rubbing her hands anxiously on her dress. "I suppose you use magic to cook and clean then?" She wagered, motioning towards her dishes. He nodded, still not entering the room. He seemed uncomfortable in the doorway, smaller somehow.
"So...do you need someone to sew?" She asked puzzled, lifting the book towards him. He looked briefly taken aback, glancing at the book like she meant to throw it at him.
"Of course not," he snapped, readjusting the fit of his jacket. The leather scaled armor moved over his slight frame, his fingernails making a nasty scraping noise against the material. "Don't be ridiculous."
"No need to be rude," she found herself muttering, reaching over to snag an apple off the breakfast plate. "You're the one who gave me a book about household chores…"
A frustrated sigh startled her and she glanced back over towards. He was looking irritably at his feet, shifting his weight back and forth from the heels to the balls of his toes. His usual tension was broken with indecision and it humanized him slightly. Lacey found herself staring at him as she bit into his apple but when he glanced back at her, she quickly looked away busying herself with wiping off the juice running down her chin.
"The castle is open to you," he finally ground out, raising one finger when she opened her mouth in delight. "But any door that does not open upon your approach is off limits. And do not try and enter the West Wing."
Lacey found herself smiling at that, quipping, "Is that where the Oval Office is?"
He shook his head, baffled, looking at her as if she had lost her mind. She bit back her laughter, her mouth almost hurting in her attempt not to grin at her joke. She formed a fist and pressed it to her lips, "Sorry, I just- we have a thing-"
"It is off limits," he repeated, steel lacing his tone. She nodded in agreement, her chest quaking with barely suppressed laughter. A moment pause and then he was gone, purple smoke swirling about the door frame before disappearing, leaving its awful smell behind.
Lacey finally quelled her laughter, placing her book down neatly on her bed before rushing gleefully towards the door. She stopped just short of the threshold, taking a deep breath, trying not to appear overeager before she stepped neatly over the door frame.
She winced, waiting for something to happen, a gleeful shriek at her naivety or even magic to pick her up and throw her back in her cell, but nothing happened.
She felt the smile spreading across her face as she made her way towards the stairs, following the flickering candelabras mounted to the wall, barely able to keep herself from skipping.
In her first few hours of explorations, Lacey found the kitchen area, dark and seemingly unused. The pantry and larder well fully stocked with fruits, vegetables, grains and meats and she helped herself to a few berries before she exited, carefully marking how to make her way back from her chambers.
She found a great hall, all the windows boarded up, their great heights twice the size as the Inn's great hall, massive curtains hanging in dust, but no cobwebs to be seen. She tugged at one board for a moment, wondering if it was day or night but gave up when she realized magic was being used against her in her quest to open the window.
She trailed along until she discovered the entrance hall, walking carefully towards the large spiral staircase that swung open into the dark depths of the second floor when a familiar cackle interrupted her.
"West wing, dearie."
She nodded, backing away from the grand staircase towards the master of the castle who was now behind her. He was grinning that black toothed smile of his but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Uh sorry," she apologized, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I'm a bit unsure of where I am- I didn't realize."
"Well, now you do." He chirped eyes dangerous slits in his face. "Run along."
She nodded, went to head back towards the safe area she had been exploring before she stopped. He watched her, standing coiled like a cobra, head swaying waiting for the charge.
"Would you-"she licked her dry lips, ignoring her misgivings, "care to tell me if it is day or night?"
He relaxed slightly, eyes opening more to reflect the overhead candles. "Night," he responded warily.
She nodded her understanding, making a small motion towards the doors, "Are all the windows and doors boarded?"
"Trying to get out?" He hissed, the predator grin sliding back over his features. "Why, it hasn't even been one night and you're already trying to find an escape-"
"I was hoping for the sight of the sky," she confessed, fiddling with the button around her collar. He waved his wrist in disgusted disinterest and she sighed angrily before turning away. "I'll leave the windows alone for now," she allowed, plotting how she might get him to let her outside for some exercise or something.
He grunted, walking away from her towards a hallway, a suit of armor standing at salute nearby. She followed him, careful to keep her distance as she looked up at the oddities around her. There was more beasts hanging, a few paintings of things like battles and plagues- even one odd modern looking piece of art which she found to be dried blood splatter upon closer inspection.
He turned, saw her following and sighed, "Now I have a shadow, how sentimental," he criticized.
Lacey ignored him, walking ahead of him, trying not to cringe when her skirt hem brushed against him. "You said I had free roam of the castle," she reminded him, walking ahead. She kept her pace steady, head held high as she took careful measured steps down the long hall and away from him.
When she finally emerged in a large room with a high table in the center, pedestals all around the perimeter of the room- large windows on the southern side of it covered in heavy brocade curtains- she squeaked in alarm when she found the Imp sitting cross legged on the table, a smug smile on his lips. She turned behind her to look back down the long hallway before back at him. "Cute," she snapped.
Walking towards the closest pedestal to cover her embarrassment, she reached out a finger to trace the odd golden bracelet lying so invitingly on the velvet pillow when his voice stilled her hand. "Careful, dearie. All these are my personal treasures- most magical and very dangerous. I wouldn't touch." She snatched her hand back from the gleaming bauble, turning and giving him a baleful glare before marching back down the hallway, his laughter following behind her.
Lacey made another stop at the kitchen on the way back to her room, loading her own plate full of meats, cheeses and bread before finding a hidden dish of what appeared to be jam pastries which she stuffed in her deep pockets.
She headed back down the stairs, humming slightly, a song on her tongue and the red sting of strawberries plumping her lips when she re-entered her chambers to find-
Nothing. Her pillow, blankets and book were gone, the nightgown and spare blouse had vanished and even her goblet and pitcher had disappeared. She felt utterly bereft. She tried to hold the plate steady she re-entered her chamber and sat stiffly on her hated slab.
She kicked her heels out, letting them smack painfully against the stone side of her bed, sniffling slightly and picking listlessly at her food. The brute, she grumbled internally. Gives me free access to his castle and while I'm away takes away all the things he deems me too ungrateful for.
She let the plate slide out of her hands, hitting the floor with a clang, food falling off the plate, bouncing off the stones. She pulled her knees up to her chin, furious and upset at herself for being so petulant like a toddler. She was cursing the Imp in every way she knew how when she finally curled up on her side to go to sleep, tears slipping angrily down her cheeks.
I'll show him, she fumed. I'll grab as many things not nailed down as I can tomorrow and-
"What in the world are you doing?" Asked the incredulous and wholly unwelcome voice from the doorway. She ignored him, curling tighter in her ball.
"Go away," she snipped, squeezing her eyes shut. It wasn't fair he can just open the door whenever he feels-
"You aren't going to sleep down here still, are you?" She turned over, eyes finding his in the open doorway. He was smiling, but it was genuinely amused this time. Upside down, she blinked up at him, trying to decipher his meaning.
"You mean-"she started, rolling up and tugging her skirt down.
"You're welcome to it," he giggled. "But I had taken the liberty of moving your things upstairs-"
She nodded solemnly, standing stiffly in embarrassment. "You could have said," she found herself muttering, walking towards him with her eyes averted in angry humiliation.
He bowed extravagantly; arms wind milling about before he folded in half. She exited past him, careful not to respond to his theatrics. She made her way up the narrow staircase, trying not to jump when he was in front of her again, waiting for her in the main hall.
"Well?" She snapped, crossing her arms over her chest in obvious annoyance. His grin widened and he wordlessly pointed down the hall she had walked down earlier. She pushed past him, muttering darkly under her breath.
As she neared the earlier large trophy room, a door swung open to her left, another staircase climbing upwards. She didn't look back to confirm, but went up it, following it to a landing where another door creaked open. She walked briskly, expecting the Imp to jump out at her any second with a laughing glee at her lost wanderings but when she finally entered an actual room, she gulped.
It was a solarium. The floor was stone but a large woven rug spanned the center of the room, warm pinks and gold flecked in its surface. A four poster bed was pushed against the wall, its cherry posters spiraling upwards in curved tendrils, a canopy descending around it and a small footsteps leading up to its high lofts.
A window seat was straight ahead, book shelves full of books on either side, the curtains drawn open to the night sky outside, a quarter moon and a half moon sharing the sky, stars like buttons in the black sky. It was starting to lighten out she noticed.
Her feet took her to the window before she realized her destination, and she kneeled up on the ivy green cushions, pressing her cheek to the window, warm in what she assumed was this land's summer.
She watched the sky for a moment, hearing nothing outside but the wind. No insect noises or birds, just the rustling of the woods that seemed to be just outside her window ledge and the occasional wind creaking.
She was so enamored with the two moons hanging low in the sky she didn't stir when she heard the footsteps outside the doorway. "And how does the lady find her new quarters?" Her jailor asked, trilling over the word lady as if she had missed the title for the barb it was.
She tore her eyes away, blinking quickly lest he think the moonlight in her eyes were tears. He was standing outside her door, arm propped on his side and legs jutted out in a cocky stance. She glanced around the room, keeping her chin even with her sweep, noticing the small doorway which she assumed led to a bathing area from the glinting of porcelain in the depths to the large cream wardrobe where she saw her nightgown and a few other blouses and dresses hanging before back to his waiting grin.
She stood from her crouched seat and walked evenly towards him. He watched her approach, straightening slightly as she neared him, her hips rolling as she tilted her shoulders back and chest forward. His eyes darted down before progressing back up to hers and she felt her lips curl into a familiar feminine smile.
So, a man after all perhaps.
She reached the doorway, him just outside of her new quarters, his grin fading slightly as hers grew broader. Her fingers curled around the edge of the door as her other arm leaned against the doorframe, perfectly framing her in the door's entryway. He blinked at her, eyes wary. "Tell me; is this door for show as well?" She murmured.
He kept her stare, recognizing it for the challenge it was. "It will keep anyone out unless you wish for them to enter," he finally said, and she nodded in understanding.
"Well, then," she smiled, baring her teeth. "I find this to be satisfactory."
And then she slammed the door in his face, grinning wolfishly ear to ear as she pranced back to her bed, falling down in the feather softness and laughing to herself over her first real victory. Small as it was.
Stone was creeping over her knees…
She couldn't fight it as it spread slowly upwards-
Emma's sad eyes staring at her through the iron curls of the gate-
Emma whispering her name, hands reaching out to touch hers but they were stone now- she was trying to yell, trying to scream for help but the Imp was there, laughing, laughing at her and then there was nothing-
Jerking awake, Lacey found herself in a dark room, mattress shifting underneath her palms and she looked down confused before it clicked into place.
Relaxing, she pushed the dream out of her mind. Burrowing deeper in the warmth of her bed, her feet which had been like icicles for weeks, finally thawing in the warmth of the summer heat. She had drawn the canopy closed around the bed as the sun rose the night before. Some stubborn part of her was determined to keep on the same time as her own land, which meant day was night and night was day.
She yawned, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, stretching luxuriously and moaning in delight as the bed dipped down to embrace her fully. Despite the nightmares, she felt better rested than her prior month on the stone so after a moment she decided to get up.
As she got out of bed, she glanced at the open window where the moons were hanging like low fruit before she made her way to the wash area. After relieving herself in the annoyingly same chamber pot, she looked about for a mirror but didn't find one.
She puzzled for a moment before she realized, she didn't want to see herself. She had lost weight since her stay at the castle of horrors and she didn't want to see what a month of no face cream, shampoo or lotion had done to her looks.
Determined to have some control of her appearance, she picked a new dress out of the wardrobe, a yellow cream with pink laces and tiny pink buttons all down the back. As she put it on, she started to button it up the back as best she could, wondering how she would get the ones in the middle of her back when she felt a slight pressure at the small of her back. Startled, she jerked her hand away as she felt the buttons start to do themselves all the way up.
She whirled around; facing the wardrobe but no one was there. After a moment's pause, her fingers tracing the buttons at her neck in thought, recognizing magical assistance had solved her problem but wary as what it may have expected in return. A small gesture of thanks, she figured, couldn't hurt. She nodded to the empty air before moving towards the window seat and the bookshelves, trying to find something more interesting to read than her previous read.
Later that night, Lacey went out exploring again after she had her mid-evening meal. She found herself a cozy study with wing backed chairs which looked to be an excellent reading nook on the same floor of her room. There was a spinning wheel artfully placed in the other corner, a bundle of straw lying next to it. She had traced the wooden wheel with her fingers upon entering, found it soothing rather than the other magical apparatus scattered around and had made herself comfortable in the largest wingback chair in front of the fire place when she heard the wheel start creaking to life.
Alarmed, she leaned over the arm of the chair, wondering what kind of magic she had awoken but was instead surprised to find the Imp sitting at the wheel, feeding straw into the device, his eyes closed as he swayed silently as his fingers moved swiftly about the wheel.
Her new pressure on the chair arm caused the old thing to creak irritability and the Imp's eyes flew open, magic instinctively swelling around him as he stood abruptly. The two faced each other in the room, her seated and half hidden in the depths of the chair and him standing awkwardly over a spinning wheel.
She licked her lips, nodded at him politely before ducking back and pretend to continue to read, staring at the words on the page and trying to figure out what he was doing.
When the chair floated upwards suddenly, spinning itself around neatly before depositing itself back on to the carpeted rug by the mantle with a soft thud, she yelped, clutching the chair's arm with one hand, mouth open in shock, the other clutching her book to her chest, fingers bloodless when she saw him smirking at her.
"Spying, are we?" He chortled, flexing his clawed hands at her before wiggling his finger. "Rude of you, dearie."
"I was reading," she replied haughtily. "And I wasn't disturbing you at whatever it is you were doing. "
He glanced down at the wheel, fingers tracing the spokes tenderly. She averted her eyes back to her lap, feeling like she was missing something. She stood woodenly, nodding at him without looking at him. "I'll just go back to my room," she offered, heading back towards the door and not looking back, hurrying away. "Even though I was here first," she shot back to cover her retreat. She was unsure and uncomfortable with the familiarity of his magic now; trying to avoid it in this place was proving impossible.
They continued to occasionally bump into each other over the course of the next week.
Lacey was learning the telltale signs of his magical signature, avoiding rooms where it felt like a thunder storm was gathering or stopping short of a room where the odd smoky smell was lingering. He had not come to her room since the first night and she never found him near the kitchen so those became her two main sanctuaries.
She avoided the magical trophy hall and the spinning room now, as well as the large tower that she often felt the magical presence lingering. She presumed it to be his quarters, but puzzled over them not being in the forbidden area that was the West Wing.
Even though curiosity was eating her alive on that score, she avoided the grand staircase, certain the second she stepped foot on it, she would be sent back to the dungeon with her burlap sack and chamber pot.
One night as she stumbled in the kitchen for a snack, she stumbled upon some tea bags and sugar. The idea of caffeine made her mouth water and she searched for another few moments for coffee but gave up when she realized it was not stocked.
She fumbled around for a bit in the kitchen, clanging old pots and pans about, searching for a kettle or a pot to boil water in when a shrill shriek made her bang her head against the top of a drawer.
Cursing, she leaned back out, rubbing the bruised crown of her head even though her ego hurt more.
Sitting on the stove top was a white kettle, purple lines curled gently around its swells, the spigot steaming nicely in the dark kitchen. She turned around, looking for a tea towel, when a glimpse of white on the table made her stop short.
Oh, of course the magic's helping, she noted, giving her now custom nod of thanks to it for its service before taking the teapot and carefully pouring the steaming water into the teacup she had found.
She was startled to find another teacup when she turned back to the stove, waiting patiently for its turn to be filled. She paused, turning back to her own teacup, almost dropping the tea kettle in surprise.
Her teacup was now on a tea caddy, sugar bowls, cream and spoons delicately laid out on the golden tray, a packet of wafers next to it.
Her mouth watered and she put the tea kettle back on the stove, ignoring the additional teacup to grab a sugary wafer, almost tasting the vanilla goodness.
The tea caddy shot backwards away from her.
She blinked, taking a step towards it, just to find it rolling away from her.
"Really?" She asked, grimacing when she realized now she was talking to the magic. She put her hands on her hips, trying to puzzle what she was supposed to do exactly, when another short shriek from the tea kettle drew her attention back to the stove.
The extra teacup had moved closer to her now, forlorn on its own. She stared at it a moment before giving it to the annoying thing, filling it with the water, the tea bag bursting in delight as the heated water released it's leaves.
She picked it up, careful to avoid the scalding sides and placed it on the caddy with her own cup. She picked up the tea kettle from the stove, adding a tea bag to it as well, nestling it in its preordained spot on the cart.
"Happy?" She asked, hands on her hips. The tea cart rolled forward on its own slightly, squeaking to a halt and waiting for her to follow it.
"I am not following you," she told it sternly, sitting down on the edge of the kitchen table. "You just go on and go where you're going. I'll make another cup."
The teacart squeaked at her indignantly and God help her, she laughed.
"Fine," she smiled at it, walking up and taking the handles firmly in her grip. "We'll go have tea in the sitting room."
The cart squeaked again and she wheeled it down the hall, trying not to notice the nicest conversation she had to date in Fae was with an inanimate object.
Entering the sitting room, Lacey found it already occupied. The Imp looked up from his table, paper spread in a wide circle around him. His jacket was over the chair he was sitting in, the laces at his throat undone, exposing his collarbones and outlining his sternum. He looked up at her in confusion before back to his papers, dismissing her silently.
She tried to wheel the cart back out but it shot forward. Of course it wanted to feed its master, she though sullenly. I'm just the delivery girl.
At the sudden rattling of the tea things, the Imp looked back up darkly. She nodded to him, gesturing down at the tea cart. "Thirsty?" He was frowning at her, before he shook his head and went back to his work.
The cart rolled forward, bumping his chair with a happy squeak and he glanced over at it before sighing and looking back at her. "Put it over there," he waved a hand towards the left of him where an untouched plate of cold chicken sat.
Lacey exhaled noisily at the thought of him ordering her about, before striding forward and wheeling the now curiously unsqueaking cart over to the corner. It didn't move but the extra teacup slightly twisted so its handle was easy for her to grasp. She exhaled noisily before reaching up, plucking it from its saucer and angrily slamming it down on the edge of the table closest to her. It wavered for a second on the edge beside his elbow before it teetered preciously and righted itself. She eyed it darkly before jolting the table with her hip in a sudden move, watching with some petty enjoyment as the tea cup splashed down onto the floor.
Tea splashed up and out of the small teacup, coating his arm in the fall. She knew it wasn't hot enough to scald anymore, but she still got a perverse enjoyment from watching it soak into a few nearby papers.
"Oh darn," she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest in smugness. "How clumsy of me."
He waved his hand towards the mess, tea disappearing as well as all the papers before turning a golden glinting eye up at her. "Careful, dearie," he warned. "I've killed men for less than that."
She kept his eye for a minute before glancing back down at the now empty teacup, a huge chunk missing from its lip from her show of defiance. "Didn't break," she pointed out. "Just chipped. Don't have a cow."
We both knew full well you could mend it with just a flick of a finger, she grumbled internally. He went back to his work but she felt the familiar presence of his magic building up around her. She briefly played with the idea of taking the cart and leaving but she decided against it. Purely out of stubbornness.
She pulled the chair next to his out, scrapping it across the wooden floor, him watching silently, before reaching out to the caddy and picking up the pot of tea.
She leaned over the table top, careful of the sharp edge and poured in the hot liquid in his mug, liquid splashing merrily in the small cup.
"Sugar?" She offered, stirring some into her cup before adding milk. He watched as she made her tea a sludgy mess before he wordlessly picked up his cup and sniffed it uncertainty.
"Haven't poisoned it," she pointed out helpfully, taking a sip of hers and letting the caffeine soak into her tongue. She sighed blissfully, small steam curling up from her mug to tickle her nose.
"I don't like tea," he finally said, pushing it away from him in disgust.
"Your loss," she replied evenly, taking another sip and leaning back in her chair. "Cookie?" She offered, holding out the plate.
He continued to stare in bewildered disgust before shaking his head wordlessly. She shrugged and crammed one in her mouth, chewing noisily, savoring the vanilla goodness.
After a short time passed, her flipping through the book she had brought with her to the kitchen when he had abruptly banished the papers. He continued to sit still, watching her enjoy her tea, not touching his own.
When her tea was finished, she stood, brushing off the crumbs from her dress and placing both the tea cups, his still untouched on the tea cart.
She wheeled it away, going to reach for the door but it swung one for her and she turned to find his hand flicked out towards the door, wordlessly holding it open for her to leave with ease.
She quirked her lips at him in amusement; nodding her recognition before heading out, humming a few bars of the song she usually saved for karaoke nights, leaving the Imp behind her.
The door snapped close as she made her way down the hallway but Lacey didn't notice. She was too busy trying to figure if she could trick the castle into providing her with coffee to realize she had just taken tea with a beast.
Author's Note
Well, out of the basement and into the castle we go!
I hope everyone noticed the little side jokes of the major players from Beauty and the Beast- Chip, Mrs. Potts, the Wardrobe and Lumiere all made brief appearances and while they aren't enchanted servants waiting for a spell to be broken- they are still a little aware, shall we say?
Big welcome to Marcellin, SansaFort, VyeLoyomBrightwarrior, Azerona, Kiri Huo Ziv, cocacolagrl84 and straycatdying! I am so happy you guys are following along with the story! And a large and heartfelt thank you to thecompletebookworm for the lovely review- it made my whole day and I couldn't help but come home and upload today. So thank you all. So much.
I hope everyone's enjoying themselves now that Lacey is up and out of the dungeon! Where will she go next? Mmm…
As always, if you see an error, DM me and let me know to win my heart and internal gratitude. I work without a beta and I get excited and forget to proofread after the final edits so errors do happen!
-B