The sun was slowly rising, setting the silvery morning mist alight like white diamonds. The sunlight leaked over the fields and through the trees, warming up the cool land. In the distance, the clouds were tinged a dazzling pink, and the first few blinding rays were visible through the treetops.
She sighed and let herself mentally wander as she gazed out the window at the dawn before her. It was a breathtaking sight.
The clink of the dishes in the soapy basin before her brought her back to the present. Picking up the next dish, she had just begun scrubbing it when the wide wooden door behind her swung open with a bang.
"Madam Eponine," she said in polite acknowledgment as the older lady bustled up to her with arms laden in trays and mugs.
"Hurry with those dishes, now," Madam Eponine told her as she set the trays down next to the washbasin. "We have more customers coming in, and we'll need all of our dishes for tonight."
"Is something happening tonight?" she asked.
"Yes. There's a wanderer who's going to be passing through... A bit mysterious, and a little... crazy, he is, if you ask me. But he's known the land over for his stories and tales, and the common people love him. Where he comes, a crowd is sure to gather. And he's headed for this town! I've invited him to stay here at the inn for a bit for his story-telling - it'll be good for business, no doubt." Madam Eponine sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of a calloused hand.
"Storytelling?" The girl asked.
"There's this tale he loves to tell... Oh, goodness, I've heard about it, but I can't say I remember how it goes. Hm..." Madam Eponine put her hands on her hips. "It's about a kingdom that fell to ruin due to a feud between a light and dark princess, I want to say."
The dish dropped from the girl's hands into the soapy water.
Eponine took no notice of this, and continued on. "Thank goodness you're passing through this week; of all the times that my workers would be off, of course this'd be the week! But they're using their vacation time to visit relatives in the city, and I couldn't ask 'em to stay! They work hard enough as is."
"I'm glad you were able to hire me, even if just for this week." The girl smiled to show her appreciation. "It's hard for a traveller to make money."
"As I'd reckon! You're awfully brave, travelling at your age - of course, I'd never travel myself, no matter the time of life. This tavern is my home. And yet... Well, those two, my regular employees, will be here to help with cleaning up tomorrow. They should be decent enough help, though the one is mute and the other is quite arrogant, a right princely type."
"A princely type?" She smiled again in amusement.
"Yes, you'd never think he'd worked a day in his life before I took him on - ! He's a bit broody, but he'll grow on you. And the poor mute one, he's illiterate, but he does his best. They're both from out in the countryside, you know. It's a surprise that even one of them is educated. But they've got manners." Madam Eponine sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "How about you, Tutu? Have you found your prince yet?"
Tutu stifled a laugh, her shoulders shaking as she continued to scrub her plate. "...Not yet, Madam. But I'm working on it." She grinned.
That night, Tutu dashed through the thick wooden doors of the inn, balancing two trays of mugs haphazardly. The crowd was getting rowdier, and the anticipation was building. The women were dressed in clean, wool skirts, and the men had changed out of their overalls into something more suitable for an evening out. Mugs clinked, voices called, and laughter resonated. Of course, while they were having fun, Tutu found herself swept away in her efforts to keep up with the work.
"Hey! Another pint?" A man called from across the large room, waving his mug. Tutu nodded and shoved breathlessly into the backroom, dumping the dirty mugs into the water-filled basin. I can't believe how many have shown up already...! This storyteller must be pretty damn good at what he does.
"Tutu! Do we have any more clean mugs?" Madam Eponine asked as she burst into the room.
"In the cabinet, I think we have three more," Tutu told her.
"You'd better get to cleaning the dirty ones!" Madam told her as she flung open the cabinet doors.
"I'm on it, Madam."
"Oh, come on, Tutu, you can call me Eponine, you know." The large lady sighed and hefted up the last of the clean mugs. "Say, aren't you getting warm like that, wearing those long gloves and shawl? You'll catch ill!"
"I'm fine," Tutu replied, despite the warm flush in her cheeks. She tied the shawl more securely about her hair, which left only her bangs exposed. "Say, Madam Eponine, what is this storyteller's name?"
There was no reply. Tutu turned. "Madam Eponine?"
The large lady was standing in the doorway. Tutu left her post at the basin and joined her. Every person in the room was silent, pausing whatever they had been doing to stare at the entrance to the inn.
A gruff man with a thick silvery stubble and a short straw hat stood just outside of reach of the light. He was tall and lanky, with a build that said he'd seen better days. His thick flannel shirt was loosely buttoned, and his pants were ripped and stained, in sharp contrast to the sturdy boots on his feet.
He nodded stiffly at the group and made his way to the hearth, where he stooped down and lit his pipe.
Then everyone was smiling and whispering in anticipation, and Tutu realized that this was the wandering storyteller that had caused so much buzz.
"Meyer," Eponine said solidly, beaming.
