Good morning fellow peoplings! Here we go, Sleepy Hollow fanfic, for your enjoyment. Oh yeah, disclaimer. Um, I don't own Sleepy Hollow, the town itself, any of the people there, I'd just like to say hello Claire who gave me the inspiration for this story. Hello. I'm into hard reading writing at the minute because I've nearly finished Dracula and it's taken me weeks and weeks, so hopefully this is a challenging read, but not to hard. Must get back to Dracula, Mina's a vampire and Renfield's died and there's a box missing and its all very exciting. Enjoy.
PS: I think I screwed up the numbering for the chapters for this story, but I think it's sorted out now.
Chapter One: Merry Fellon
I stand in front of a small door, the entrance to a large house. I knock politely and shift my bag from one hand to the other. After a few moments a man opens the door. A pale faced man, dressed in black, making him appear even paler, also with dark hair and featured eyes. I feel they will either hold great comfort, or inflict great pain.
"Mr. Crane?" I inquire.
"Yes."
"I am the new maid, my name is Claire Archer," I introduce myself. He opens the door further.
"Miss. Archer, please, come in." I enter the house, it is a grand house, much larger than one would imagine judging by the size of the front door. The stairs are directly behind the door, with passageways leading off to the left, right and right forward. Like its owner, or occupier, the house is dark, and holds a mysterious air, as if something here was disturbed. I soon bury these thoughts and smile at my new employer.
"I will show you to your room, Miss. Archer," he invites. He leads the way up the stairs, and to the left, into a large room. It is quite clearly a guest bedroom, and I am unsure why he has directed me here.
"But Mr. Crane, this is a guest bedroom," I protest.
"Yes, Miss. Archer, I seldom have guests residing here, so there is little point in wasting this perfectly adequate room, and it seems, to me, much more pleasant than the servants quarters," he explains.
"If you are sure Mr. Crane, please, call me Claire."
"Yes, well, Claire, I shall leave you to unpack your belongings, and get a feel for the house," he backs out of the door, closing it behind him. I slowly turn to face the double bed, this was more than I had imagined, and much more than I could have hoped for. I place my bag on the bed and open it, taking out a plain magnolia colored dress and folding it, placing it on the table, and continue to do so until all my clothes and belongings occupy the small, round table. After a while, a knock sounds at the door, and Mr. Crane opens it.
"Miss., Claire dinner is served," he announces. Again I am unsure what his speech is meant to imply. I walk to him.
"Mr. Crane," I begin. "I am here under the assumption that I am to be employed by yourself as a servant, and I am somewhat confused by how you treat me."
"Have I treated you in any way you dislike, Miss. Archer?"
"No, not at all, Mr. Crane, but my previous employers have not offered me the guest bedroom and have not served dinner before."
"Miss. Archer, this is a big house I live in by myself. It takes a lot of work to keep it in good order, and it can feel terribly empty. I would like to think that I can look upon you not just as a servant, but as a companion, and I will enjoy your company. Can I look upon you as a companion?"
"Of course Mr. Crane," I say.
"Please, call me Ichabod," he says, with a small smile, it may have been small, but it lit up his whole face, becoming much more lively and colored.
"Then you must stop calling me Miss. Archer, companion's have the privilege to address each other with forenames."
"Of course, Claire." We walk down the stairs, and Ichabod guides me to the dining room, where there is a sizeable feast laid out.
"You cook, Ichabod?" I ask.
"Yes, although not as well as I may like, and mostly fish. I hope you like fish?"
"I do." I sit down at one end of the table, Ichabod at the other. His cheeks have a much more rouged color in the candle light, and I feel tempted to ask about his life, I know that it holds great sadness, that I can see in his eyes, those eyes that hold great comfort. I do not realize that I am looking directly into them, nor that he is studying my eyes.
"Claire?" he asks.
"Mr. Crane, I apologise, I did not realize I was staring," I humbly lower my eyes, and my fork.
"On the contrary, if I had known it would have broken your concentration I would not have distracted you," he smiles again and put his fork to his mouth. To add to the confusion this person was having upon me, this last statement concerns me the most. Does he want me to look into his eyes? They are the most beautiful feature of his face, which is now much more soft than when I first laid eyes on it. And yet I still wonder, even with his explanation of companionship, why I am here, what he wants from me. I decide to wait until our relationship deepens and I know what he wants, he is a very mysterious character, as I am sure that he would not need for a maid to be a companion, so I do again wonder why I am here. Sitting in this beautiful dining room, across from one of the most fascinating men I have ever thought to meet, why does he fascinate me so? Maybe it is because he can see I am inquisitive, and I want to know him further, maybe he has never had servants before, I do not know.
The village is called Merry Fellon, it is quaint, and the people seem nice, I am sure there is someone here who can help me. After cleaning Mr. Crane's house, I decided to visit the church, where I lit a candle for my mother, as she is, indeed, the reason for me coming to Merry Fellon. I let my dark hair fall to my shoulders as I kneel in prayer. After a while, the father of the church comes to me, Father Samuell. He will be my first choice.