Reaver's Servants

Paint It Rosie

"I see a red door and I want it painted black

No colors anymore I want them to turn black

I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes"

Rosie couldn't help but turn her head, hearing the man playing the guitar while singing the song softly, as if to her. He was dressed clean for someone who stood against a wall playing a guitar. Reaver had sent Rosie into Bowerstone to pick up a few things for an "important business partner" coming to visit. She held a box under one arm and a bag in her hand.

The man wore a thin scarf loosely around his face, covering his nose and mouth. "Why are you wearing a scarf when it's so hot?" Rosie finally asked, slowly approaching the man.

"Is that the question you really want to ask me?" asked the man, placing his guitar down. Rosie shrugged and just stared.

"That song sounds familiar, where did you learn it?" she asked.

The man shrugged and leaned against the wall. "I've heard it from here and there. Something about your presence told me to play it." said the man. Rosie didn't know whether or not to be offended. She just shrugged and went about her way. "Would you like me to play it all the way?" the man asked. Rosie stopped and looked at the man.

"Any other day, maybe. But right now, I have to get back."

"What hurry do you have? A lonely traveler like me could use a good conversation." The man picked up his guitar and started strumming again. Rosie thought for a moment and sighed. She slowly walked to him and watched him play his guitar.

"I see a line of cars and they're all painted black

With flowers and my love, both never to come back

I see people turn their heads and quickly look away

Like a newborn baby it just happens every day"

"Train cars?" asked Rosie, setting her packages down.

The man stopped playing and looked up, a little annoyed. "Do you usually interrupt performances?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked. "You know, you look familiar." He said, placing his guitar down again. "Did you used to perform in a circus?"

Rosie nodded. "Yes, I was a fortune teller."

The man chuckled hearing that. "Ahh, yes, I remember visiting that circus. You told really bad fortunes." He laughed. Rosie huffed and folded her arms. "I remember seeing a blonde muscular guy walk into the fortune telling tent once and then seeing a sign that said 'Booth Temporarily Closed'." The man laughed.

Her cheeks turning red, Rosie turned her head away. "I will never live down dating Mr. Finn briefly, it seems." Rosie whispered. The man chuckled and attached a strap to his guitar. "In all fairness, I'm no angel either, Miss…"

"Rosie. My name is Rosie." responded Rosie, plainly.

"Ahh, the name fits the personality." The man laughed, swinging his guitar onto his back. "Is Rosie short for something? Rose? Rosalina? Rosita? Rosario?" the man watched Rosie frown. "Rosa? Roselyn? Roseanna?" he continued, as Rosie picked up her packages and started walking away. He followed her. "Rosabella? Rosalie? Rosemary? Rosette? Rosemunda? Rosica?"

Rosie turned around and frowned at him. "It's…just Rosie." She answered, trying not to show her annoyance. "I swear, I thought Mr. Hatch was annoying…" she mumbled.

"Mr. Hatch? I only know one person with that last name. Is his first name Barry by chance?" the man asked. Rosie nodded, looking for a way out of this conversation. The Man chuckled again. "I play poker with him sometimes, if I'm around." The man looked at Rosie. The way his eyebrows moved, she could tell he was smiling.

With an exhausted groan, Rosie shifted the items in her arms. "Listen, Mister…Whoever-the-Hell-You-Are, I'd love to sit here and talk about people I find exhausting, and there are plenty, but I have to get this package to my boss before his business associate arrives." With that, Rosie left the man standing there. Or, so she thought. She could feel him somewhere behind her.

The man followed Rosie as she left the marketplace. Walking among the houses, Rosie heard other feet on the cobblestone road. She sighed and looked behind her. "Why are you following me?" she asked.

"I'm not." The man answered, though clearly still walking in pace with Rosie. "I was actually going in this direction before I started talking to you. I only stopped to rest against that wall we met at. I seem to meet the most interesting people when I stop to rest. Good way to make friends, too. It's hard for me to make friends. Especially with my track record." said the man.

Rosie sighed and shifted her packages around. "While I don't believe you, there is little I can do about it, my arms being full and all."

Rosie continued to walk the cobblestone road toward Millfields. "You know…" the man shouted, despite being a few feet behind Rosie. "…I have traveled pretty far. All I do now is travel."

"How nice for you." said Rosie, not actually paying attention. She started walking faster. Her heels against the cobblestone got louder as she picked up her pace. It was hard to do any real errand outside the manor in the shoes she was wearing, but she had a high pain tolerance, thankfully.

The man looked among the houses they passed by and hastened his walking speed, to catch up to Rosie. "Have you a home?" he asked.

"I live where I work. I'm a maid. I figured what I was wearing would have made that a dead giveaway." Rosie responded, sarcastically.

The man chuckled softly. "Ahh, passive-aggressive, my favorite type of person. They are less judgmental." Rosie rolled her eyes and tried to walk faster. When she did, he only got faster. She held onto her packages tightly and started running. Rosie was a very fast runner, which soon became obvious to the man.

Looking behind her while sitting against a small stone wall, Rosie caught her breath and stared into the fields. "Finally…"

"I look inside myself and see my heart is black

I see my red door; I must have it painted black

Maybe then I'll fade away and not have to face the facts

It's not easy facing up when your whole world is black"

The strum of the guitar only added to the unpleasantness of the man's presence. "How did you catch up to me?" she asked.

The man chuckled softly. "I was always behind you. I'm a pretty fast runner, myself." He said, snidely.

"You're pretty snide for a vagrant." said Rosie.

"I didn't think I gave off the impression of being a vagrant, do I? These are brand new clothes." said the man, defending himself, in an insulting manner. The man strummed his instrument a few times and started singing again. Rosie found this to be quite an arbitrary response to being called a vagrant by a maid.

"No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue

I could not foresee this thing happening to you

If I look hard enough into the setting sun

My love will laugh with me before the mornin' comes"

"Stop singing!" snapped Rosie, turning to him with her eyes glowing. "If you're going to follow me, at least be less annoying!"

The man blinked a few times. "Your eyes glow when you're mad?" he asked. Rosie rubbed her eyes and they returned to normal. "What exactly are you?" he asked again.

Rosie, looking somewhat offended, just sighed. "I'd rather not give my story to a man whose name I don't know."

"Most people call me Scarf." He responded simply. "To be honest, I like it better than my real name; less tarnished."

"Fine, Scarf…if you must know…I'm a seer. I'm not a very good one, though. My abilities are more of a side-effect than anything." Rosie answered, leaning against the small wall.

"Does your boss know this?" asked Scarf.

"Yes, he does. Mr. Reaver is strangely accepting of me and my friends. Though, with the sounds I sometimes hear coming from his room, I'm pretty sure he has a loose interpretation of the word 'odd'."

"Your friends?" asked Scarf, leaning next to her. "My friends and I used to work in a circus before…"

"Before…?"

"Before it…shut down, so to speak." said Rosie.

"Why was it shut down? I heard the Ringleader came into some money troubles…" asked Scarf.

Rosie didn't like telling this story. She avoided it at all costs. "If by money trouble, you mean he had a gambling problem that normally involved bandits beating the tar out of him and stealing his shoes, then yes, money trouble was to blame. We came back from a performance in the city one day to find our stuff gone. Everything, from our clothes to our personal affects."

Scarf sighed and let Rosie continue. "To be perfectly honest, we didn't just pick up and leave. That's just the story we told our boss. In reality, despite a moral barometer like Miss Sarah, we took anything of value left and burned down everything."

Scarf nodded, his eyebrows showing soft surprise. "I heard it burned because he was trying to commit some kind of insurance scam. He was found guilty of insurance fraud and for illegal trade. I'm not sure what the Queen did with him, but for you and your friends' sake, I hope he got death."

Rosie rolled her eyes and stood up. "Well, Scarf…thank you." She started walking again but his gloved hand stopped her.

"I can carry some of that stuff. It looks heavy." He insisted. Rosie nodded and handed him the box. "This isn't so heavy." Scarf joked, holding it under his arm. "But then again, I haven't been carrying it all over Bowerstone all day."

Rosie looked her new friend up and down. "You wear a lot of purple." She said, as they rounded the path near the graveyard.

Scarf chuckled. "I've always liked the color purple. I'm not sure why. It just seems like a neutral color." He answered. "It's a cross between blue and red. Blue is often used to represent purity; red, with corruption. I like to believe that my past has me pegged by both."

"Interesting theory." said Rosie. "Logan, the former king, wore a lot of purple. I wonder if he had the same theory."

Scarf shrugged, looking as if he really didn't want to answer. "I doubt it. If he did, he wouldn't have let everything go to Hell like it almost did. Of course, almost might be too generous. I've seen places worse than Industrial in my travels, though I understand if you find that hard to believe." He sighed, looking down at his guitar. "I doubt Logan knew the extent of his dealings. I can't say much on his behalf, seeing as I never really knew him. No one did, I think." He said, simply.

Rosie sighed, crossing her arms to the best of her ability. "Don't defend him. He knew exactly what he was doing. He signed people's lives away to fund a war we didn't even know about until his sister came to power." said Rosie, plainly.

"Am I safe to assume you have a personal vendetta against him as well?" asked Scarf, turning his head to Rosie.

Rosie shook her head. "Not me, but a few of my friends might. I find holding grudges pointless. Well, that's a lie, I guess I am guilty of holding grudges too." Rosie lowered her head and sighed.

"You said earlier you were a seer?" Scarf asked.

"I am…not a good one, though. But I had enough of the ability to fib my way through some of those readings I did." Rosie chuckled, remembering her days in the circus.

"When did you find out about your abilities?" he asked.

Rosie shrugged. "As far as I know, I've always had them."

Walking along the path, Rosie and Scarf found themselves smiling at each other's anecdotes. "…so, you only dated that Mr. Finn guy to make the ringleader's son jealous?" laughed Scarf, who sounded like he hadn't had a good laugh in years.

"Well, at first it was like that, but after a while, I actually started to enjoy Mr. Finn's company." Rosie chuckled.

At the top of the path, Rosie pointed to the manor at the far end of the region, which could be seen from where they were standing. "Over there, Lakeview Manor. I work and live there." She said. "By the position of the sun, I assume it's a little after lunch time, so Mr. Reaver is expecting his visitor soon."

"Then we'd better hurry." said Scarf, as he and Rosie started sprinting down the path.

Their path, however, was being blocked. Rosie and Scarf stopped at the rough looking men clocking their way. Bandits were rare in Millfields, but sometimes a few snuck by the sleepy guards. Nobles were useless in battle, so bandits often found Millfields a good place to harass locals. "This road requires a toll, lovey." said a big mercenary, as his cronies laughed behind him.

"Look, gentlemen…" said Scarf, before Rosie could say anything. "We're not looking for trouble. We're on an errand for her boss, and we just want to finish in peace…" Scarf took his guitar off his back and offered it to them. "I'm afraid this all I have that's worth anything. Please, take it."

The mercenaries laughed loudly. "By her uniform, I can tell she works for that Reaver bloke. And by the packages, he must be doing something big soon. He'd pay good money to see at least the packages safe." The biggest mercenary took out his sword and slowly approached the two.

"Rosie, stand back, please…" said Scarf. "Let's see if I can defeat them without taking out my weapon."

"You have a weapon? Where?" asked Rosie, who started to get worried. Scarf didn't answer. He handed the package back to Rosie and took his guitar. He started singing as he lunged at the bandits.

"I see a red door and I want it painted black

No colors anymore I want them to turn black

I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes

I have to turn my head until my darkness goes"

His guitar swinging like a sword, Scarf hit each mercenary with precise accuracy. His agility when dodging their weapons and fists amazed Rosie and made her blush. One came after him with an axe, but Scarf jumped out of the way to avoid it, making the man hit one of his comrades instead.

Rosie listened carefully, and heard him humming loudly as he hit the men with his guitar. His guitar was taking a few hits, as he used it to shield himself from bullets. Scarf looked like he was performing a sadistic dance. The biggest mercenary, tired of the foolishness, went after Rosie. Rosie prepared herself.

Scarf jumped onto the mercenary and whispered in his ear, the rest of the song.

"I wanna see your face, painted black

Black as night, black as coal

I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky

I wanna see it painted,

painted,

painted,

painted black…"

Scarf twisted the man's neck and jumped off of him, landing in front of Rosie. Rosie clapped with a sarcastic smile. Scarf bowed as she clapped. Rosie tried to get a good look at the rest of his face as he bowed, but couldn't see anything under the scarf.

"Well, Rosie, that was fun, but I'm sure your boss is wondering where you are." said Scarf, picking up the box.

"You're guitar is damaged." Rosie pointed to Scarf's guitar, which was far beyond damaged. The only thing keeping the neck of the guitar connected to the rest was the strings.

Scarf laughed a bit and looked over his woeful looking instrument. "Well, that certainly won't do…" he said, nonchalantly.

"When we get back to the manor, I'll have my friend, Gordon, look at it. He might be able to repair it." Insisted Rosie, as they ran toward Lakeview Manor. She stopped for a moment and looked behind her at Scarf, still looking over his broken guitar. "Wait, before we go in…thank you." said Rosie.

"For what?" asked Scarf.

"The mercenaries and helping me with my packages and…" Rosie started to blush. Scarf could tell she wasn't one to voice her emotions often. He took her chin in his thumb and index finger, turned her face, and hastily pulled down his scarf. She still didn't see his face, even as he kissed her cheek. He pulled his scarf back on fast.

"To remember me by…" he said, as they smiled at each other.

Rosie and Scarf ran toward the gates, finding Barry waiting. "It's about damn time!" he shouted, as Rosie approached him, grabbing the box from Scarf. "Master Reaver was expecting that stuff an hour ago! Hurry in before he notices you're late!" said Barry, as Rosie ran by him. Scarf approached slowly, and nodded to Barry as he approached. "You're late, too, you know…" said Barry, his arms folded.

Rosie ran inside and ran up to the dining hall, where Beryl and Willa were preparing everything. "Rosie! Where have you been? Mr. Reaver's guest will be here any minute!" said Beryl, fixing up a flower arrangement.

Panicking was something Rosie rarely did. Beryl would mark down this day as special, as she wouldn't see the panicking side of Rosie for many more years. Rosie placed the items on the dining table and tried to compose herself. "I know, I know, Mr. Hatch already got on me. Now help me set this stuff up before Mr. Reaver…"

"Before Mr. Reaver what, Rosie? Before I find out you're late, despite how much importance I put on you being back on time?" asked Reaver, as he stepped into the dining area.

"Mr. Reaver, I…" Rosie stammered to find an answer but was interrupted by Barry.

"Master Reaver, your guest has arrived." said Barry, bowing in the dining room doorway.

"I'll deal with you, later." He muttered angrily as he walked to the foyer. "Servants, come meet our guest for the next few days. Hurry now, chop chop!" Reaver shouted, from the foyer.

Rosie ran down with the rest of the servants and saw Scarf standing in the doorway. Their eyes met and she could tell he was smiling at her.

"My dear servants, I want you to meet one of my oldest friends, and my most prominent business partner." said Reaver, one hand extended to Scarf. Scarf proceeded to take off his scarf, which he handed to Barry. The servants looked on in shock and confusion. Two thin scars adorned his lips, but he was otherwise very handsome. Rosie's eyes widened.

"Everyone, this is Lord Logan: former king of Albion and the Queen's head advisor…as well as her brother." said Reaver, ceremoniously.

Logan nodded as they all bowed. He looked among them, but he stopped at Rosie and smiled.

Reaver sat in the study, watching his house guest follow Rosie all over the house. She seemed to be ignoring him, or at least trying to. Gordon walked in, with a tray and tea. "Mr. Hatch told me to bring you your tea, he's a bit busy at the moment." said Gordon, as he set the tray down.

"What could Barry be doing that's so important?" asked Reaver, as his tea was being poured.

Gordon shrugged and looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. "Well, it's about dinner time, so he's either helping the girls set the table or watching Miss Sarah cook. My gold's on the second option." He remarked, handing Reaver his tea cup.

"That would be a pretty safe bet. Well, in any case, tell him to clean up his drool and may the gods help him if he's late for dinner again." Reaver watched Gordon bow and leave. He then took out a pen from his coat pocket and opened his journal, which was on the table with the tea.

"The servants don't seem to mind that my house guest for the next few days is Logan, former king of Albion. Evidence suggests that they've been through worse in their old profession. He seems to have taken a liking to Rosie, so I assigned her to be his attendant during his stay. Not surprisingly, she was a little less than enthusiastic. Of course, it's hard to tell when Rosie is happy or sad or…plotting your murder. Luckily, the last one hasn't happened yet."

A small voice under his feet meowed softly. "Ahh, Reavie…I've been wondering where you've been." He said happily, as the cat purred around his feet. "No rubbing against my legs. Cat hair is hard to get off…" Reaver played with his pen a bit.

"Something tells me Logan being here will shift the routine of things around here. Hopefully not by much, I hate it when routine is disrupted. I think I shall plan a party for him, before he leaves. If not for him, then for me…it's been a while since I've had a party…and I think I know the perfect entertainment…"

Reaver perked his ears up when he heard a guitar being played. "Ahh, he liked my gift, good." He said, with a smile, as he closed his journal. Reaver got up and walked into the foyer, whistling along with the song.

"Ahh…this will be a most entertaining week…"

N'cha! Haha twist endings haha. But yes, my next few stories will have Logan in them, as he is their house quest. I wonder how he'll handle staying in Lakeview Manor with the servants around. Insanity will be had, that I can promise you.

I've wanted to add Logan in for a while, but didn't want to so soon into the story, so I decided to wait a bit. Yes, yes, I made him very passive for a guy who was just kicked off the throne, but it'll be explained why in the next story.

One of the next few stories will subtly start going into the backstories of the servants. Which one, I'm not sure yet.

For those who are wondering, the song he is singing is "Paint It, Black" by the Rolling Stones. I think about this song whenever I write about Rosie, and I wanted to include it.

As always, I want to thank everyone for their support and reviews. I appreciate them very much, and the story continues because of awesome fans such as yourselves.

*bows* thank you. Without you guys, I wouldn't be writing at all.

Tatty-bye, my friends! I appreciate criticism but prefer positive, so be sure to leave a review hehe!

Reaver, Barry Hatch, and (of course) Logan belong to Lionhead.