'
Rey gave herself a day's grace and stayed below stairs for the remainder. There was perpetually plenty to do and Dopheld always seemed pleased to have her around. He was such friendly, uncomplicated company, in spite of his oftentimes nervy demeanour. It may have been vanity, but she thought he had grown less so the more they became friends, though perhaps it was that he was merely becoming comfortable with her presence.
Whatever it was, it was welcome, and unlike Poe, Dopheld would listen if she suggested doing something a different way to normal.
After her turbulent morning, the day was pleasant and productive and by the time it came for them to retire, Rey's mind was collected and relaxed.
That didn't dissuade her from taking a mug of Maz's tea, however, in the hopes her night would be calm, too.
'
They were in the woods again. This time she was following the wolf at an easy pace, every now and then, he (somehow she knew it was a he, but how she knew was a mystery) would pause to look back at her, making sure she followed, but he never let her get too near.
Unlike last time, they were not heading towards light, they were going deeper into the trees, the vegetation growing thicker and more dense. As they went, the wolf's golden eyes grew more luminous the darker it became.
Although they travelled for what seemed like hours, she never felt tired. She did stumble a fair bit, bare feet less able to steady her as she stepped in holes or over thick branches fallen to the mossy ground, or as twigs and brambles caught at her dress.
Soon, it was too dark for her to see beyond her nose, and she stopped, disoriented and confused by how impenetrable the darkness had become. For a moment, she was afraid her wolf had left her behind, disappeared into nothing, leaving her alone… but then his eyes flashed, merely a few feet away and she breathed a shaky sigh of relief.
The howl still took her by surprise, the long-drawn-out desolate cry brought tears to her eyes. Despite her being here with him, it told her that he still felt alone, abandoned, rejected. She felt as if she had failed somehow and though she reached out, desperate to comfort him, her fingers caught nothing but air. The eyes were gone, as was his presence, but his voice continued to echo in her ears…
'
Of course, she opened her eyes in the dark of her room, to hear howls outside. She refused to indulge her imagination, however, and resolutely remained in bed, doing her utmost to ignore the sound as she wiped her wet face.
Curling on her side, she rested her cheek on her lavender pillow and closed her eyes, breathing the familiar scent in. It was weakening, she would either need to buy some more of the dried flowers or asked Mr Hux if Lord Ren would not object to her cutting some from the garden. She was sure Poe would do it for her in an instant, but she didn't wish him to get into trouble.
Eventually the cries in the dark faded and she slowly drifted back to sleep. While her dreams featured no more wolves or anything from her past, when she woke, she was less than happy with them.
For she had dreamt of Lord Ren, of his bare chest, her cheek pressed against it as large fingers combed through her loose hair. His other hand had been resting at her waist, too familiar, too welcome, while his singular scent, that she was now so well acquainted with, filled her head.
It was absolutely unacceptable. As if she didn't have enough to contend with, without adding dreams of any man, let alone Lord Ren, on top of everything else.
What made it worse, was that it was his fault, not hers, imposing his under-dressed presence on her the way he had yesterday or flaunting his strength as he had when fixing the stable. She chose to gloss over how she had foolishly slept with his blanket and that she had found the scent of him comforting.
No. From this moment on, she decided she would keep her eyes on the floor as much as possible, when she was unfortunate enough to be in his vicinity and completely ignore the way he smelled, too.
'
Today, when she entered the parlour, she absolutely refused to be affected by a room. Head held high, she strode towards the windows, flinging them wide open so the fresh air and sunshine could come in, determined to chase away any lingering vestige of darkness.
As she worked, she hummed or sang, snatches of hymns, popular ditties or anything that sounded cheerful.
Occasionally she would feel the creeping fingers of doubt or suspicion try to worm their way through her deliberately upbeat demeanour, but she did not allow them any traction.
Soon, the room smelled of vinegar, beeswax and turpentine and it began to feel like she would conquer this after all.
She was so focused on her task, that she forgot about lunch altogether until Dopheld came to find her.
Stopping to eat seemed somewhat trivial, so she waved him away, keen to do as much as was humanly possible while things were going so well.
Dopheld came up a short time later with a sandwich and a cup of tea, and frowned at her until she paused to eat.
'
By dinner time, (which Dopheld absolutely insisted she went down for) she was exhausted, sore and stiff but deeply satisfied with her progress. As it was a normal night, she chose to keep going until it was late enough for her to have a bath. According to Mr Hux, Lord Ren had spent the entire day abed, so she felt confident she wouldn't be interrupted, (though of course she told Mr Hux of her intentions, to be absolutely certain).
'
Eventually, it got too cold to have the parlour window's open and it wasn't long after that that she started to feel dizzy with the strong scent of turpentine and brass polish.
With a resigned sigh, she tidied away her things and went down to the kitchen, where Poe had put the bathtub in front of the fire for her.
Her aching muscles complained greatly as she filled the tub with water and set up the modesty screen but it was worth it as soon as she slipped into the hot water. Well, warm water anyway, it was difficult to make it really hot but it was still blissful being immersed and once she had soaked for a reasonable amount of time, scrubbing the dirt and grime from her skin and cleansing herself with her soap felt wonderful.
As usual, she dried and dressed in her nightgown, emptied the tub, then sat by the fire to comb out her hair. It was getting very long, and was shinier and thicker than it had been in London which she was sure was due to the lack of smog and how pure the water was here. The two thick plaits she braided it in were now halfway down of her back. It had occurred to her that it would be less bothersome if she were to cut it, but she had always hesitated - dim, vague memories of her mother or some other woman who had cared for her, brushing her hair, held her back, though she couldn't say forwhy.
'
As she crept softly up the stairs, she noticed that the library door was open a crack, the light of a fire glowing.
Mr Hux must have forgotten to tend to it before retiring. With a long-suffering sigh, she set her bundle of clothes down, rolled up the sleeves of her nightgown and entered the library.
It wasn't until she had walked around one of the large wing-back leather chairs that she realised the room was actually occupied.
Lord Ren was slumped in the chair, his long legs stretched out by the fire, chin resting on his shoulder at an awkward angle, fast asleep.
The harsh lines of his face were relaxed, gentle almost, but there were deep shadows beneath his eyes, he looked utterly spent, worn to a ravelling.
Her heart softened a little, the room was none too warm - the fire was fairly low and stoking it would likely wake him, which she definitely didn't wish to do… but, he had been kind enough to cover her with a blanket when he had found her in a similar position. The red chenille was on the opposite chair, so as carefully as possible, she covered him with it, barely breathing as she did.
There was no indication he was aware of her as she gingerly tucked him in, but as she pulled away, her wrist was gripped so tightly she gasped.
He made no other move, but his eyes were now wide open and staring straight at her, gaze intense.
For a frozen moment, they stared into each other's eyes, before Rey attempted to pull her wrist free. It was an utterly futile effort, he didn't even seem to notice, just continued to regard her.
"I am sorry I disturbed you," Rey stuttered, in the hopes that he would remember himself and set her free, "Would you like the fire stoked?"
A ripple of some unknown expression passed over his face, before it firmed and to her relief, he released her.
Rey stepped back and Lord Ren sat up, just now noticing the blanket and for a brief moment, she thought she saw his lips twitch upwards, though later she was sure she had imagined it.
Finally, he looked away, glanced at the fire then back to her, taking in her nightgown and damp braids and the blush painting her cheeks deepened.
"I can tend to the fire, Miss Johnson, go up to bed."
For some reason, the fact that he had told her to go to bed, made her feel distinctly disconcerted, there was something unseemly and intimate about it.
Not trusting herself to speak, she bobbed a curtsy and left, gathering her bundle of clothes before darting up the servants stairs as fast as she could.
That, of course, was why she was a trifle breathless when she dived into bed, it wasn't the warm impression of his fingers upon her wrist, or the deep, quiet tone of his voice, or the intensity of his eyes.
When the light was out, she was grateful that her exhausted body pulled her into sleep almost immediately, and if she dreamed, she did not recall any details when she awoke to morning.
'
That Sunday afternoon, Rey set out to walk to Collierhagg Beck to see Maz. She went alone, guiltily not telling Poe or Dopheld where she was going, merely saying she needed some fresh air and exercise. Although she disliked lying, she didn't want anyone but Maz to hear of her wolf-dreams or that she sometimes heard howling in the night when no one else did.
It was very rarely that Rey confided in anyone, indeed, previously, it had only ever been her homemade doll or the priest.
Not that she often had any secrets to share, her hopes and dreams had been shaped and encouraged by the priest, then whispered in prayer after his death.
This secret weighed heavily on her, and though part of her was eager to tell someone, another part was nervous of the reception. Something told her that Maz would be the least likely to judge her harshly for it, though.
It was sunny but there was a cold wind blowing as she walked as briskly as was sustainable along the Penrith road, surrounded by bushes and trees and accompanied by the singing of birds she was as yet unable to name.
When she reached the small culvert in the road, she turned off it and attempted to remember the route Dopheld had taken her the first time she visited.
Unfortunately, she had been paying more attention to her feet and the birdsong rather than their path, so it took her a little while to find the right way and it was the smell of wood smoke that finally set her right. As before, little bells chimed at her arrival and the front door was wide open.
"Come in, Rey, tea is ready!"
Rey jumped at the confident voice, unnerved by how the eccentric little woman had known it was her.
As she cautiously entered the chaotic home, she caught the movement of a walking stick being waved about in the air and carefully navigated her way around benches, piles of herbs, books and other odds and ends, towards it.
She found Maz in a small clear space by a low fire, sitting in one of two small chairs with a rickety table between them. She was pouring tea out of an earthenware pot into two simple clay mugs.
"Sit down, sit down," Maz ordered as she added milk to the tea, "Show me the goods."
Folding herself into the remaining low chair, Rey frowned, "The goods?"
Maz airily waved her hand, "Whatever is in that package."
As a friendly gesture, Rey had made some biscuits that morning and taken some with her for Maz as a gift, though again, she was at a loss as to how Maz could have known such a thing.
As she passed over the biscuits wrapped in brown paper and string, Maz handed over her tea. It was a dark brew, strong and satisfying and slightly smoky.
"Oh, well," Maz cooed as she opened the biscuits, "Lovely, lovely, lovely. Thank you for your offering, girl. Now, what can I do for you?" she squinted at Rey over her glasses, "You seem slightly untethered."
Having no idea what, 'untethered' could mean, Rey shrugged slightly, "The tea you made has been helping with the unpleasant dreams, but there are some... strange dreams that keep coming back to me, and…" she trailed off, uncomfortable under the unwavering stare Maz had pinned on her as she chewed a mouthful of biscuit.
"These are most excellent," the little woman pronounced, then leaned forward, "But you have yet to finish your sentence."
After taking a fortifying gulp of tea, Rey blurted, "And I keep hearing a wolf howling at night."
"Ah," Maz said quietly and sat back in her seat, "And what are these strange dreams of?"
Although Rey had suspected Maz wouldn't treat her like a loon for what she had said, it was still a surprise not to see ridicule or pity on her features.
"The dreams are of a wolf, a black one with golden eyes, we are always in a wood, walking or running, and," she bit her lip, "I think it is the same wolf I hear when I wake. I'm going quite mad, aren't I?"
Maz cackled, though not unkindly, "Nay, dear child, you've just tapped into something beyond your ken." she cocked her head, "Have you seen him? The wolf? When you hear him howl?"
Rey shook her head, frowning as she thought, "I thought once, perhaps I saw a shadow run into the trees, but I couldn't say for certain and it seemed ridiculous - no one else hears it!"
"Do they not?" Maz asked her gently and Rey frowned even more.
"Well, no? I asked Dopheld once but he said no and no one else has mentioned it, and surely they would, if a wolf was roaming around Ullswater?"
"Hah! Men usually only see what they wish to, and if there is something they cannot explain, they pretend it is not real," Maz said slightly derisively.
"So you believe me?" For some reason, this left Rey feeling more confused.
"I hear him too, child," she said, "I imagine many locals do, but because he has never been seen and no livestock goes missing, they all chalk it up to the mists or dreams."
"Then, are my dreams… why am I dreaming of him?"
"Ah, well, that, I really couldn't say," Maz said before taking a bite of biscuit and sighing happily, "Though I will say that you do dream of him, is significant."
Rey had come to Maz for clarity, for help, but her bewilderment was only growing, "Significant how?"
Maz settled herself more comfortably in her chair before replying, "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'Improbable but not impossible'?" she asked, beady eyes now fixed upon Rey, who shook her head. "Well, you cannot do what you believe to be impossible. Yet, once it moves from impossible to the realm of merely improbable - in theory almost anything can happen. I imagine you travelled from London to Penrith in less that a day, yes?" Rey nodded and Maz continued, "What do you think someone from a time before trains were invented would have thought of such an idea?" she paused as Rey considered that, before carrying on after a few moments, "Now, you were so convinced a wolf being here was impossible, that you persuaded yourself you were ill or going mad - now, how do you feel after being told I hear the wolf, too? It has become merely improbable." Maz smiled, "So, anything else can be improbable, too."
Rey sat silently for a while, trying to order her thoughts amid the shifting sands of her assumptions, compared to her experiences.
There were certainly strange things in the world, mysteries and myths, magic tricks which looked impossible but were achieved somehow, and some things that merely were, without any explanation at all. Just because she couldn't explain something, didn't mean it did not or could not exist.
It was a mindset that was at odds with how, ironically, a man of God had coached her. The miracles that Jesus was said to have performed, those were impossible, were they not? Turning water into wine? So, improbable, not impossible.
'
The walk home was at a much more leisurely pace as her mind turned over and over, trying to work out what Maz had thought was significant. The woman had refused to be drawn out on that particular subject, which caught Rey's curiosity all the more.
What Maz's information said for the wider issue, Rey still wasn't sure how to process - there was a wolf, or she and Maz both heard one anyway. Though Maz had not been dreaming of a wolf, just hearing one howl.
Of course, it was entirely possible that Maz was quite as mad as she seemed, which would mean Rey was also mad.
She needed more information, ideally, she needed to find out if other people heard the wolf too. If she could find others, perhaps a few more, then she could know for certain.
Maz had already made up a new tin of sweet-sleep for her before Rey arrived, and just before she left, she added a few things to it in light of their conversation.
Even if it didn't stop the wolf-dreams, it would still help her relax and sleep more peacefully, so it was very welcome.
One thing Rey hadn't told Maz, was about the two dreams she had had of Lord Ren. She didn't think she would ever tell anyone about those, no, she would take them with her to the grave. Perhaps, if she were lucky, the new ingredients in the sweet-sleep would banish them.
Out of the two, she would much rather dream of wolves than men.
'
'
A/N: Thank you so much for all your lovely reviews! You guys are too kind ^_^
