AU: So excited to post this chapter. And just in time for my birthday tomorrow too! 15 years old guys, I am so old. c;
Well I really enjoyed writing this and I am so excited for the new events that are coming up, don't worry, the next chapter is going to have a bit more action I guess. I am so looking forward to writing it. Sorry if the chapter isn't as well edited as some others, I got impatient.
Well, here it is. Please read and review and let me know your thoughts. Love you all and thank you for your support. :)
Clara opened her eyes; dark chocolate irises absorbed the light like a sponge, pupils dilating in the slight brightness of the room. Dust circled around in the tiny rays of white light that peeked through the dark green curtains. Clara sat up, relishing in the silence of the house, and stretched out, easing the drowsiness from her limbs. She pulled her hair out of its loose bun and ran through the chestnut waves with her fingers, making sure it was presentable enough for breakfast. Pulling herself from the sheets was a difficult task the longing for sleep tugged at her, but she set her bare feet on the hard wood floor, wincing when her toes touched the cold. Clara stood up and dressed quickly, slipping out of her dressing gown and into her dark grey and green governess dress. It was long, and crisp, with dark buttons emblazing the breast and long curving streaks of green that accentuated her tiny waist. Pulling on some flat black boots, she smiled in the mirror and tied her hair up, into a tight bun and plucked at her cheeks and lips to bring back the color she had lost during her long night with sleep.
Fixing her bed took no time at all, and with a satisfied huff, Clara was out the door, shutting the wood behind her. She walked confidently throughout the halls, up the stairs to the children's room where they slumbered silently. It had been a week since Clara moved into the William's household, and in that time she had time to wander around the property and knew every nook and cranny of the house like the back of her hand. She took pride in her knowledge of the house and its occupants. She felt comfortable in this house, and with permission from Master Williams, felt well enough for the children to begin their lessons. She was excited and nervous, and just as unprepared as they were. She looked across the hall to that room. The only room in the house she knew nothing about… that Doctor's room. He was no doubt sleeping. That mysterious man—
Clara shook her head and smiled, turning her attention back to the children. Reaching forward for the door, she turned the knob silently and stepped in. She watched their slumbering faces for a moment. They were gorgeous. Ginger locks covered their faces messily, with their blankets strewn across in the darkness, sock covered feet poking out over their beds. She crossed the room silently before pulling open the curtains with a gentle snap. She heard their protesting groans and grinned like every governess does in the wee hours of the morning.
"Good morning sunshines!" Clara said merrily, her soft voice like a song, "Each day is a little life: every waking and rising a little birth, every fresh morning a little youth, every going to rest and sleep a little death. Do you know which German philosopher said those words?"
Arthur and Karen opened their bright little ocean eyes and stared at Clara like she was mad, before climbing out of bed with a groggy expression that she took with satisfaction.
"No," Arthur answered truthfully as he walked up and hugged her around the waist, "but good morning Clara."
"Uh-uh." She shook a finger at him with a smirk, "Today officially begins your tutoring. So from now until 6 o'clock tonight I will be Ms. Oswald, alright sir?"
He pouted but nodded and began making his bed. Karen still lay in bed, her curls spread out over the white sheets, looking like orange zest on a boring napkin. Clara glided over to her and sat on the empty space on the bed, running a hand through her curls.
"Do you know who said that Karen dear?"
The little girl shook her head. "No." And her words were quiet and tired and Clara felt her heart lurch with sadness, but her duty had to be done.
"It was Arthur Schopenhauer. A German philosopher." Clara added, before lightly pulling Karen up to a sitting position, easing her body up close to hers.
"What is a philosopher?" Karen asked.
"A person who sees the world in a different way, and are great thinkers with sharp minds, philosophers are rare people, Karen." Clara answered as she placed the girl on her feet, rubbing at her back to get her to start on her bed. She saw that Arthur was already pulling off his shirt, and she took that as her excuse to leave and get the kitchen ready.
"I'm going to help your father with breakfast now. I want you downstairs in 5 minutes, dressed and awake. Okay then?" Clara asked as she hovered by the door, looking over at her bright little angels.
They turned over and nodded with smiles and she turned away, calling over her shoulder, "And don't make me have to come up here and get you. I give vicious tickles as punishment, and I assure you it is not as fun as it sounds. "
Clara winked and was gone, not even her boots making sound on the wooden floor. She glanced up at that mysterious door one last time, and took off, walking through the floor with a grace and speed that amazed even herself. She was excited and beaming and today couldn't get better.
She saw Rory sitting at the table, reading the newspaper with a cup of coffee in his hand, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. She stopped at the table and curtsied politely, "Good morning Master Williams."
He turned around and smiled brightly, light dancing in his eyes. "Good morning Clara."
"The kids are up and getting ready sir. They should be down soon."
Rory looks up at her with shock. "It took you that long? They are actually awake and alive, not walking dead creatures?"
Clara smiled with a sense of satisfaction, blushing and looking down at her coffee in modesty. "They weren't a trouble at all to get up, they acted perfectly."
"No whining?" Rory asked again.
"Nope." Clara said with a smile.
Rory grinned, "What did you do to them?"
Clara laughed and shrugged, "A governess never reveals her secret Mr. Williams."
And then with that Rory shook his head and looked back to his paper, a hardened smile evident on his lips. Clara mentally shook herself, the flirting. She needs to stop with the flirting! It's not her fault… its programmed in her personality, but she always felt horrible when Master Rory got that look. That detached look, she knew he was thinking of Amy… when he felt guilty for being flirtatious and happy.
Clara nibbled at her breakfast, a bit of buttered toast, a bowl of fruit and a steaming cup of green tea. She was never hungry in the mornings, and then her head rose at the sound of footsteps at the stairs.
"Good morning, father." Two voices called out politely from the foot of the table. Arthur and Karen stood there, their ginger hair combed and presentable clothed simple garments, with warm boots covering their cold feet. Clara smiled and nodded at them to sit. They took their respective places at the table next to their father.
"Morning, Karen, Arthur. What are you two planning on doing today?" Rory said as he set down the paper, giving his undivided attention to his kids, making Clara melt with happiness.
"Whatever Ms. Oswald is going to do with us today!" Karen called out cheerily, as she unfolded her napkin with tiny fingers.
"Can we go outside to study?" Arthur asked, and Clara looked out at the window at the soft flakes of snow that was streaming down from the pale heavens.
"In the snow?" Clara called out with a chuckle, "If you will pay attention… then that is fine with me."
Arthur gave a quiet whoop of triumph and gulped down some of his orange juice. Clara turned to Rory, "Your children are insane, sir." She said with a grin and he smiled back at her.
"They sure are." Rory said as he looked at both of his children with loving eyes. His smile was wide, and his eyes burned with adoration for the two youths that sat on either side of him. They were beautiful and they were his and they made him so happy. Even though they reminded him of Amy, they were so special to him, and he couldn't bear to think of how dull his life would be without them.
The breakfast was quiet for a moment before Clara heard the familiar clack of maid shoes, and she looked up to find Jenny, carrying a large pile of clothes in her small arms. She caught sight of the dining family and she smiled, "Ah, good morning Master Williams! Clara, Karen, Arthur how are you all doing this morning?"
"Great Jenny!" Arthur answered with a toothy grin, "Clara is going to start our lessons today!"
Jenny smiled widely at the boy, "Really? Well, the best luck to you then Ms. Oswald."
"Thank you Jenny," Clara said with a smile and a friendly wink, before the woman went up to put the children's clothes away.
When the meal had finished, Clara stood up and led the children up the stairs, with a ghostly hand the small of their back, "Now, go get your coats on, if you want to go outside. Bundle up well, its freezing cold outside. Let me get some things from the library for the lesson. Meet me outside?"
They looked up with her with their oceany eyes and gave each other a look of pure happiness before they darted up the last few steps to their room, leaving Clara behind with a giggle bubbling up in her chest. She walked a few steps toward the library, where she had set aside some books, pencils, coloring utensils, charcoal and empty notepads filled with paper. She smiled and darted back down, where she looked outside the glass door and saw the children giggling outside, with snowy white flakes in their hair. She pulled on her coat that hung on the rack by the door and felt her heart fill with happiness. She took a deep breath and a long stride out the door.
~.~.~.~
Upstairs, a man pulled open his curtains and peered outside through the icy glass. He looked into the snowy backyard where a barren oak sat, and a tiny pond had frozen over. Two orange haired children sat on the concrete barrier of the pond, their heads in their hands, while a young chestnut haired woman paced between them, the hem of her dark grey dress a deep black with moisture. The kids looked up at her with a look of half-interest and he could see in their eyes the longing for the fluffy white beneath their feet. The woman danced around them excitedly, her olive skin glowing and her hot lips red with blood. She was smiling and the children were not. He sighed, and turned away, just as the wind outside rattled the glass, and the curtains fluttered back to their original position.
~.~.~.~
Clara sat in defeat when the children rushed from the study to the kitchen. Her lesson had not gone as smoothly as she had planned. Earlier, a bitter cold had set in and Clara was forced to move the kids inside for their health, but the move affected their brain, turning their normally attentive minds away, to the far reaches of the imagination. They became distracted and irritable, lashing out, blatantly ignoring her for the intriguing adventures outside of the library. She tried bringing them back to their lessons with basic math and science but they slithered away. They had grown bored even while they were outside in the chilly air, which kept drowsiness at bay. She didn't blame them, learning wasn't always fun... and distractions were always around the corner.
Still though, no other children gave her this many issues. They were stubborn and clever and she hated that fact. Packing away their doodles, and half accomplished notes Clara felt her heart sag. They hated her as a teacher. She was boring. Clara was never boring… but here they were living proof. She threw her books and papers into a small basket and set it on the children's desks. There was no point in calling them up after dinner, they wouldn't listen now. Not on a full belly. She sighed and straightened out the hem of her dress. Something was wrong. She had to be doing something wrong, she thought as she made her way to the Master's study. She reached the hard wood door and she wrapped her knuckles against it, "Master Williams?"
"Yes. Come in." She heard the faint reply in the back of the study; she nodded and turned the handle, letting herself in modestly. "Ah Clara, we missed you at dinner."
Clara bowed politely and smiled sadly, "Yes, I'm sorry sir, I was rather tired."
"So," Rory asked as he settled down in his chair, ushering for the young governess to follow suit, "How did the lessons go?"
Clara turned scarlet with shame and shook her head, her voice weak from within her chest, "Not as I had planned sir. They were constantly bored. They didn't pay attention to anything that I had to say! It's horrible. What am I doing wrong?"
"Clara," Rory said sternly, "You are doing nothing wrong. It takes a while for you to get adjusted to how the kids act, don't stress. You are doing wonderful even if you don't think so."
Clara looked up and blushed, wringing her hands together at the praise, "Oh, well thank you Mr. Williams…"
"Have some faith in yourself Clara, it's a small setback, give it time." Rory said with a wide smile that Clara returned.
"Thank you sir, I'll leave you to your work then." Clara said as she walked slowly out of the door, when Rory called her, she turned around to look at the man by his desk.
"I am hoping you will join us for dinner tomorrow night, Clara."
"Of course sir, I wouldn't miss it for the world. Goodnight, sir." Clara said and exited the room, the wood behind her shutting with a satisfied clack. She turned on her heel and walked around the hallway for a moment, noting the time on the hanging clock, it was 10 o'clock. The house was winding down, the servants went to their rooms, and the Master's light flickered and shut off. Clara crossed the hardwood floor silently, pulling her hair out of its bun and brushing through it with her fingers. She hummed softly to herself and began daydreaming about tomorrow's lesson.
"Your teaching was nearly painful to watch today."
Clara screeched quietly and whizzed around to find a familiar man at the staircase. Doctor Smith stood at the top of the stairs like the last time she had seen him a week ago. His hair was still frazzled, but he was now wearing a dark black silk robe over his long night shirt and trousers. He kept his hands in his pockets and his body hunched slightly, his head lowered and his voice as horse as before.
"Oh Master Smith," Clara said with a wheeze, "you scared me. Again. Do you only hang around the staircase or do you terrify the other staff in other places of the house?"
He took a step forward, "Do you always teach so horribly?"
Clara stood her ground, "Are you always so rude to people you just met?"
He stood still for a moment, before straightening and taking another few steps forward, he was almost at ground level now. Clara moved a few steps closer, reveling in her closeness with this mysterious man she had hardly heard of.
"No, not usually. I'm not being rude by the way, I am being truthful," John said with a straight face. Clara felt cheated that she got no facial expressions from the man.
"How did you even see me teaching?" Clara asked with a quirked eyebrow.
"They were bored out of their minds." He changed the subject flawlessly, she noted.
"Will you ever answer my questions?" Clara called out with an exasperated sigh.
"Probably not."
"What a shame." Clara quipped.
John shifted on his feet again, and looked down at his bare feet. The slight movement made his hair fall into his eyes and Clara watched with curiosity at this secretive man stood in front of her. She didn't know what to think about him yet…
"The kids will pay attention to you if you tell them a lot of stories. They love stories." He said suddenly.
Clara looked up at him and took another step toward the staircase. She saw the man straighten slightly, going stiff at the shrinking space apart. She took a step back and watched as he relaxed, and rubbed at his hair.
"What kind of stories should I tell them?" Clara asked, interested by the new information.
The young man shrugged his shoulders and looked around the small foyer, his eyes lingering on the photographs as though looking at them for the first time in a long while, "I don't know. Just make it up, be creative! "
He waved his arms a lot when he talked, she noticed. She let her eyes wander over his figure for a moment, a crease forming at her brows.
"Why are you telling me this?" Clara asked suddenly, her full mouth open wide in awe and confusion and wonder at this man who stood before her, his baggy clothes hanging off of him and his floppy hair in his eyes. Why did she believe him? This madman who seemed more like a 5 year old than a grown man!
"I don't like seeing the kids suffer," John held her gaze for a moment, before the dark forests turned back down to his shoes, hardness in their depths, "And believe me your lessons made them suffer."
"I can't decide if that was sweet or if I should be insulted." Clara called out, laughter in her chocolate eyes.
"And you will continue to ponder the meaning of that, Ms. Oswald." He said with a cheeky grin, as the young man spun on his heel and ascended the stairs with a graceful speed.
"Where are you going?" Clara exclaimed. "I still don't understand! What do you mean 'tell them stories?' What do I tell in order to keep it relevant to what we are learning?"
"Anything Ms. Oswald. They don't even have to be relevant, just something to keep their interest." The man called over the railing to the young governess, his eyes alight with a fire of what she guessed was happiness. She took a few steps up to follow him, her hands grasping the handrail with a firm grip.
"You have answered none of my questions! Come down here please, Mr. Smith!" Clara cried.
"Sorry," He called down again, inching toward his room, "The recluse must stay reclusive. Goodnight!"
With another flourish of the dark robe around his waist, the man was gone, a click of the door echoing in the back of Clara's mind. She huffed and descended the stairs, looking up at that damned door, closed and dark and the only separation between him and her. She wanted to barge in. Demand his assistance, but she knew better. She didn't know him… it would be foolish and rude to do such a thing, but still she felt an itch tug under her skin. She shook her head and walked back to her room.
He was insufferable, and obnoxiously mysterious, Clara decided, and she wanted nothing to do with him and his mossy green eyes and floppy hair. Absolutely nothing to do with the bloody recluse that spent all his time holed up in his room, wasting away doing whatever the madman did.
She had work to do, and she climbed into bed, her mind racing to find the stories for the children.
~.~.~.~
She recognized the timid knocking at her door. Every governess did.
It was the sound of restless children, and she snapped her eyes open at the quiet sound. She could hear the shuffle of baby feet outside her door, and grabbing her midnight blue robe off the chair she tied it around her sloppily. She padded over to the door and swung it open.
There Karen stood, tears streaking her cheeks, a teddy bear in her arms and her hair a glittering mess on her head.
Clara gave a calming smile, and knelt down on her knees to be eye level with the crying girl. She felt her governess experience take over and she tucked a stray strand of the hair behind the little ear.
"What's wrong, Karen?" She whispered softly, her voice a gentle whisper that tickled at the air around them.
The girl babbled quietly for a moment, "I had a scary dream," she trailed off.
Clara pulled her close to her chest and rubbed at her hair, shushing her quietly. "It was only a dream," She said with a gentle smile, "But they are scary, I know. Come on let's get you up to bed."
The young woman guided the young girl up the stairs with her large hand in her smaller, paler one, fingers gripped tight against each other. She pushed the door open to the children's room, and waited for the girl to hop up on her bed, and she covered the young ginger up with her still warm blankets. She heard Arthur stir on the bed across the room, and he grumbled, "What's wrong, Kaz?"
The girl piqued up at the loving nickname, "I had a bad dream."
The brother sighed and slipped out of bed, draping his blanket over his shoulder with care, and settled in his little sisters bed.
"Why didn't you wake me? You didn't have to disturb Ms. Clara." The younger boy scolded gently. The girl's curls even seemed to droop with shame.
"She didn't disturb me, Arthur dear, this is my job. " Clara said with a warm grin, bright enough with love to light the darkened bedroom, "Now what can I do to help you go to sleep?"
"Daddy always told us a story when we had bad dreams." Arthur said quietly, rubbing out the drowsiness in his eyes.
"One story coming up!" Clara whispered excitedly, and patted at the boys shoulder to send him back to his bed, where he cuddled under the blankets with a burning impatience, Karen looked up at her with blue eyes that still glittered in the dark.
"What was your dream about Karen?" Clara asked quietly, her voice flat.
The girl gulped, "The snow melted and it was all water, and I couldn't swim…"
Clara frowned and grabbed the girl's hand, racking her brain for a clever story to reassure the young girl. She thought of the fish pond outside and the layer of ice that covered it, and the ocean off the coast and the water in the glass by the girls bed—
And then Clara grinned.
"Do you know that I invented fish?"
The two of them looked at her with a mixed expression of amusement and utter disbelief. Clara threw her head back and laughed, sweet and loud and true.
"What?" She said with a grin, "You don't believe me?"
"No! You didn't make the fish! They were already there!" Karen screeched with glee.
"How do you know I didn't make them before you were born?" Clara said with another mysterious smile.
"I was swimming outside one day on the beach with my parents and they fell asleep while I was still in the water. I had drifted out too far for them to hear me. I thought I was going to drown, and so I went under the water to look for something to keep myself up with. I closed my eyes and I wished." Clara said, hoping she was keeping the fake confidence in her voice, "and when I opened them, there was a fish! It stared at me with its big eyes and then, all of a sudden it kissed me!"
Karen squealed with laughter and Arthur looked at her slightly disgusted.
"On the lips?" He cried.
Clara nodded. "And I tried to get away. Because a fish was kissing me! How disgusting it was but when the fish pulled away I could breathe! Fish have gills which take in water, but humans don't so the fish are able to breathe under the water. The fish saved my life and it swam with me back all the way to shore, kissing me when I needed it. So after I reached to sand I was safe, and I travelled to all the bodies of water in the world, and I gave them fish. That way no one ever has to ever swim alone again."
Clara finished her story with a smile, and looked at the children, who were grinning back at her. Outside the door, she swore she heard a chuckle coming from the abandoned hall. It was ringing like a bell, but quiet and hoarse, unused. She whipped her head around, but saw no shadow from outside the closed door.
She turned around and sat up from Karen's bed, running a hand through her hair, "Don't be afraid of the water, love."
Karen smiled up at her with sleepy eyes, and murmured a quiet goodnight. Clara backed away and walked over to Arthur, pulling the blankets up higher on his body. She looked him straight in the eye and she felt her expression grow serious, "Arthur."
The boy looked up at her with his bright blue eyes, which glowed like powder blue neon in the darkness. "Yes Clara?"
"Don't ever feel like you are a bother to me. If you have a bad dream, wake me up. If you feel sick, let me know. I want you to feel comfortable with me here, and I want to help your father out. You are family to me Arthur, and I hope that someday you will see me as the same." Clara said, her eyes flicking over the young man who was now under her care, and the love in her heart.
Arthur stared up at her for a moment before darting forward and wrapping his long thin arms around her waist, "Thank you Ms. Clara. Sleep well."
Clara smiled, and felt her eyes burn with hot tears. Her chuckled bubbled up in her throat wetly, "Thank you Arthur, goodnight."
After the two children were tucked in bed, Clara exited the room and wiped a stray tear from her eye, painted fingers holding the tear like a treasure before it slid off and onto the floor. Clara smiled and began her decent down the stairs where she leaned over the edge of the railing, peering to find the man she had a feeling would be here.
"Master Smith!" She whispered harshly, her voice echoing softly through the otherwise silent house.
She called his name a few more times, and when she reached the door to her room she realized that she was indeed alone. He had not come down to speak with her, praise her for the attempt…
And for some reason Clara felt a bit empty. There was a gnawing in her gut that wasn't hunger…
As Clara laid down for bed at 2 am in the morning and she realized that she felt guilty. She hadn't been able to tell Master Smith that she was grateful for his help. And because of that she tossed and turned, unsure if she should knock on his door, but just when she was going to get out of bed, sleep pushed her back and she sank into the darkness.
~.~.~.~