A/N: So I apologize for not meeting my weekly deadline with this fic (like I said I would), but I kind of fell under the spell of leisure when I went to my Grandmother's last weekend and left early in the morning for Cedar Point (best amusement park ever I swear) on Sunday where we remained until late last night on Labor Day. Plus, my homework got the best of me that night and for the remainder of the week, which had been utter shit overall (my grades are losing their high promise).
Unfortunately this chapter was taking a lot longer to write than I originally thought it would and the drag-on has made it quite long, so I've decided that I'm going to break this up into three parts now. This one happened to be the most boring, but bear with me here for a little! The following chapter will involve some dramatic events for your entertainment and also includes minor character death (as in a maid), so don't lose faith in my ability already (I'm just getting started readers)!
Chapter Summary: Aradia finds shelter with the castle of Tartaunus when the doctor could no longer care for her. However with promotion-crazy maids running around, will she be able to survive the first day?
Chapter Four
The Castle of Tartaunus Part I
THREE WEEKS SINCE THAT NIGHT the witch hunt had died down, most of the men believing that she had been in her house after all and burned down with it in her sleep. Life carried on as usual in Hopeland Kingdom as well as the Kingdom of Tartaunus, however the woman-no-longer-in-red would not return. Not yet, at least.
Even though it had seemed like such a short time to her, the widow could not remain with the doctor forever. She dreaded the day's arrival, but yet it had come quicker than she thought and because of such, was unprepared for the move. Her mind was blank of an idea of just where she could take up residence next, and it was apparent on her face to the doctor when Doctor Lalonde approached the seated widow.
"How goes the brain-storming now?" the doctor questioned the widow as she joined her at the crude table, pulling the mismatched other seat out to sit down.
"Obviously not doing any good, kind doctor. Whatever shall I do now?" the widow looked up from the rotted hole in the wooden table to stare on at the doctor with creased eyebrows, her dark hair messy to disguise herself as sickly and poor.
"Well," the doctor folded her hands on the surface of the round table and looked deep into the widow's brown eyes. "I have said it before and will say it again, the castle is always accepting of new servants and you will find that the Queen herself is quite the lovely young lady. At least, that's what Sir Egbert has said before. It is the only other option I can think of besides living on the streets and enacting in thievery. What say you now, Miss Megido?"
"I…" said Miss Megido had started, but trailed off and pierced her naturally red-tinted lips, unsure of how to respond. The two had been over this numerous times whenever they had the chance to discuss it, but each time the widow had declined and mentioning of the castle, figuring it would be too risky to take up work there. The Queen may be considerate, but how could she bestow kindness on a witch suspect? It was expected that the Queen would betray her to the kingdom she has allegiance with. After all, what was the worth in protecting one single servant that she could easily replace?
"I just don't think it's a good idea. What would happen if I were to be discovered? The queen would surely have my head—or worse, burn me!" the widow covered her face in her hands then and took in a couple of deep breaths, willing her usual happy-go-lucky sell to return. Unfortunately, it wasn't really happening in her state. She felt far too dead inside to go back, and it all started when her husband died—even if he had "purchased" her. She had harbored some affection for him, and the loneliness that overcame her after his death had begotten her.
The doctor reached out her right hand and placed it over the widow's left when she had released her hold on her face, a warm smile gracing the doctor's features. "Darling, the castle is a lot safer than you give it credit for." Doctor Lalonde patted the widow's hand once before snaking her hand back her way and re-lacing her fingers together. "And besides, how often are you even going to see the Queen, her suitors—which I'm sure there are many,—or her allies wandering around? If anything, you might be assigned kitchen or lower level cleaning duty! Who's going to see you then? And the other workers themselves probably only care for political gossip. Sure, you may be mentioned a few times as the 'new pretty girl,' but who's going to remember you? There are thousands of servants, and you would be just a speck on the wall as far as I am concerned. So I say go for it—what do you have to lose, really? If all fails, then run away! No harm in that." The doctor stood up then and turned around to head out for her daily duty in Hopeland Kingdom.
"I expect your face to be absent when I return, and I sincerely hope that you adhere my advice. I am afraid that this is good-bye, Miss Medigo, for the chances of us ever meeting again are slim-to-none" Doctor Lalonde swiveled on her heels and tapped over to where the widow still sat, and then bent over to give her a big hug (even if she had to hug wood in order to do so).
"Please take caution in whatever final decision you make. I will continue to worry for your safety even when you're gone, so leave knowing that at least one person in this world cares for you, alright?" the doctor pushed back, her hands on the widow's shoulders as she smiled at her.
"Thank you, kind Lalonde. I shall be quick to depart once you take your leave, but I do for one expect to see you again. That is, when one of the maids kicks the bucket" the widow winked at the doctor and pulled the white gauze wrapping from around her head, a small smile on her own lips. The doctor patted her shoulder and smirked then, turning to officially take her leave.
"Blessed be, Miss Megido, and may God keep his watchful eye on you for any future trouble."
As soon as the doctor was out of the disease-ridden log cabin, the widow lifted from her seat and sashayed on over to the crooked door herself, a set frown on her delicate features. She feared for her future, and honestly had no idea what she was in for at the castle of Tartaunus.
Gray wisps for ends of a dress blew along the settle breeze as the dark eyes of the owner widened at the visual: gorgeous bright towers and a large barbican with not two, but three alert guards before the risen gate. Smoothing out her tattered wear, the widow braced herself for the degrading confrontation with the men and approached them with her head held high, face impassive. Two of the three men continued to chat, unaware of her presence while the third looked on at her with a hint of a lecherous smirk.
"Excuse me, good Sirs" the widow stopped before the third frontal man, and curtseyed. "But I was wondering if there were any servant positions open, preferably of castle keep?"
With the exception of a few shared glances, the two guards on the castle side of the gate nodded their heads when the guard in front of the widow waved his hand to them. The guards then lowered the gate, the widow cringing a little at the sound of the chains-on-cog-wheels.
"You can cross over to the other side, but you will have to speak with yet another guard once you pass through the barbican. Sir Knight Strider will most likely be on the other side of the gate, and it will be him that gives you the official lowdown on the servant acceptance policy. Blessed be, milady" the guard before her stepped back with his left foot and placed a fist over his heart in respect to her, but the leery look in his eyes said otherwise to her. Gulping, the widow thanked him and curtseyed again before proceeding.
Crossing the bridge would have been delightful, had it not been for the high winds that threatened to throw her on into the moat. Though shaky, the widow smiled at the two men that displayed equally lecherous expressions as she passed on through the double doors. The barbican had been a quiet walk, and for that the widow was grateful. However, the cross over to Sir Strider had been just as dreadful as the previous bridge walk. Upon reaching this knight, she curtseyed to him like she had the previous five, but this time tried to have her smile reach her eyes. This man was the big-shot, so it was in her best interest to be as polite as possible to him.
"You came for…?" The knight spoke first without even addressing her appropriately.
"A position as a cleaning special, good Sir." Without breaking his impassive composure, the knight took a second to check out the widow's physique.
"Since you're entry level you start on the basement. Best of luck." Maybe it was her imagination, but she could have sworn she saw the stoic knight crack just the slightest hint of a tipped smile.
"Thank you, kind Sir" the widow curtseyed again, and then walked on past him, her raven hair catching the wind and lifting in his face in the process.
Now that she was inside the castle, the widow took some time to examine the intricate wall decorations, and especially the many portraits she passed on by of previous rulers and even some nobles, especially the dukes and duchesses (the kingdom appeared to favor female heads, though. It certainly put a twist on their culture, but the widow personally had no room to complain). Too fast she had reached the room and was unprepared for her meet with the Queen. Scared? Very much so, but time left no room for dilly-dallying so in she went with a helpful push from one of the two guards, the double mahogany doors not making only a small squeak as they gave way to reveal the throne room. Extravagant and large as it was, nothing beat the beauty of the ruler herself that made the golden and jewel-coated throne look dull. Even a woman such as the widow was stunned in her presence, and ended up stumbling over her low curtsey because of such. The widow could feel the flush of embarrassment arise, and the wind chime laughter that echoed across the room did not help in chasing it away.
The widow didn't dare to look up until her majesty bid her relevance.
Holding her stomach from laughing too hard, the Queen waved her free hand for the widow to stand, but spoke out when she failed to do so. "Rise, Mademoiselle, and inform me of what it is you desire. Clearly some new clothing," Queen Feferi lifted her eyebrows and her glossed lips twitched at the sight of the widow's wear. Oh no, that tripe would simply not do behind the walls of her castle.
"No need to humor me, your majesty, but yes some new garment would be appreciated. However I did not come here for apparel, but rather a favorable job position." That included free living for the rest of her days, of course. Her future was looking so bright already.
"Well that is most acceptable. I have been running low on cleaning maids, anyways. Unfortunately you will have to start in the lowest level. If this bothers you, then this is not the job for you and you can seek refuge elsewhere. In my opinion, however, you seem fit enough for the duty and I would like to see you climb to the top of my servant echeladder." The Queen paused for a minute to catch her breath, then smiled at the widow and held out her arms. "Welcome to the castle of Tartaunus—it is a pleasure to have you! May I take your name now?" It was a shame that she had to ask for the widow's name, and the widow noticed the falter in her smile and felt the flush of embarrassment all over again.
"I go by the name of Aradia, your highness, and I humbly thank you for your hospitality from the bottom of my heart" she bowed in front of the Queen and ignored the bead of sweat forming at her left temple. Well her full name was Aradiella Megido, but she didn't want to take the risk of the Queen possibly recognizing it. Who knew what King Ampora said to her? Queen Feferi clapped her hands then and called out to the guard.
"Sir Adam! Please escort Miss Aradia to Miss Maryam's tailor room to have her fitted in the pink maid dress. Thank you."
As the guard led her away, Aradia inclined her head to look behind her one last time at the Queen, and could have sworn she saw a mischievous gleam in her eye. And did the Queen just say "pink?!"
Ebony, short hair and tall was the olive-skinned woman in front of the widow. The woman wore a fine dress of many shades of green and gave the widow the warmest smile she'd ever seen on someone. Aradia felt downgraded in the woman's presence in her tattered garb.
"Welcome, Madame, may I have your name? And am I to assume that you are a new cleaning servant of our Queen?" the woman rested the thick cloth she had been holding over the back of a basket-weaved chair. She then waltzed over to address the widow more formally by standing directly in front of her, the ruffled ends of her jade dress sweeping the ground as she did so. Just as Aradia was about to respond, the eloquent woman curtseyed and introduced herself first. "Since my late husband's death, the duke, I go by my maiden name which the Queen has been so kind as to respect such a wish, but I would much rather be addressed by my first name by you, Kanaya. It's quite the unique one and will not be easily confused with by the thousands of servants, for a lot of them share the name Mary." The woman now known as Kanaya stood tall then, her bosom uplifted from the way she carried her back—straight.
"Well okay then," Aradia chuckled and ran a hand through one of her knotted strands of hair. "Aradia, please. I do not quite like my last name all that much, considering some people like to shorten it to 'Meg.' Say," Aradia began to ask a question after she rose from her own curtsey. "Must I really adorn a pink dress?" Come to think of it now that she had gotten a look around the tailoring room, all Aradia ever saw along the walls were either ordain dresses of tyranian or various pink-shaded maid dresses. However, there was one dress in particular that stood out: a crimson thin-strapped silk gown that gradually became a maroon as the dress cascaded downward, and the sparkling black underbelly only made it better. It kind of reminded her of a Gypsy's gown, and the shoulder drape that hung next to it was equally stunning in its blood-red glory.
"Ah, the old dress explanation. I've had to give this speech to every new servant that comes here. And that's not including the servants that have received promotions" Kanaya didn't even glance behind her and took a seat in the only comfy chair in the room. "Needless to say, each color stands for a servant position and are essentially what the servants look forward to in this female-ridden castle of old. All I ever hear from them is promotion this, and promotion that. Every one of them wants to wear the fuchsia dress. However, there can only be four and therefore makes for some real competition among the females" Kanaya laced her fingers together and rested her hands in her lap, her back completely straight and shoulders rolled back like a woman of nobility would sit. Aradia started to walk around the room and examine the colorful fabrics strewn about the place, though even so the room retained cleanliness.
"Actually I must warn you that the cleaning servants can be nasty, vicious workers that only have one thing on their mind: promotion. If the opportunity presents itself and disaster befalling a co-worker is the only way to obtain it, the maid will mercilessly strike out. I've seen some unpleasant things go down in this castle, and their all behind our majesty's back too, so be warned Aradia." The ex-duchess offered the widow a small smile when she stopped pacing to give Kanaya a worried expression. "Do not fear, for they would never commit the heinous crime of murder…at least not that I know of. Then again, there have been reports of some servants going missing before, so I wouldn't be all that surprised if it had been the work of a servant" Kanaya shrugged, and then leaned forward to retrieve the thick cloth she had been holding earlier, deciding to pick up on where she had left off in sewing designs into it.
"That sounds…horrible" the widow covered her mouth in mock horror and only lowered her hand when Kanaya flicked her wrist to wave it off.
"As of right now it's no big deal since the servants are mere peasants—no offense to you, of course, you're quite lovely Aradia" Kanaya apologized for her inconsiderate comment, but Aradia didn't seem to notice. Or rather just didn't care.
"But if somebody catches a servant—or group of servants—in action, they will most certainly be put out at the very worst. Our majesty may be kind, but even I highly doubt that she would condemn them to wearing the black dress. Murder is right along the lines of treason, so the punishment should ultimately be death with not even the slightest bit of mercy. Taking another's life without good reason is an absolute no-no and an insult to the Lord. Anyways, enough of that now" Miss Maryam folded her hands again and fixed Aradia with her signature Motherly smile. "Let me explain to you the significance of the many shades of pink now, as I'm sure you have been dying to here."
"Oh I have am so near death by now that I doubt your explanation will matter to me in the long run. Besides, I would much rather be wearing that lovely red dress right there. Either that, or the black maid dress. Pink simply looks horrendous on me and overall puts me in a foul mood. Is the soft pink dress really my only option, or can I wear the black dress?" The widow sat down on the basket-like chair since the fabric had been removed and lifted her eyebrows at Kanaya.
"I don't think you understand the dread that comes with wearing that black dress. It means that you could be thrown out of the castle at any given moment, and nobody wants to be around you."
"That's music to my ears, actually." They both laughed at that, and Kanaya's smile grew. This new servant was quite the individual.
"Well you would have to do something unlawful in order to wear it, which I would not advise you attempt. As for Lady Red over there," Kanaya jerked her thumb toward the crimson gown, a smirk playing on her lips.
"What about her?" Aradia tilted her head to the side, playing the confused child.
"No one exactly knows what the splendid gown stands for except for the Queen herself, but I have a great hypothesis that I'm almost positive rings true." The ex-duchess made a curt nod of her head before continuing on with her sewing task.
"Oh? And what might this hypothesis be?" the widow leaned back in her chair and waggled her brows.
"It may be completely off, but I believe that the dress is meant for a very special servant, one that is worthy of entering her personal quarters. Alone."
"Ooooh, that is a wild assumption now, Miss Maryam" Aradia chuckled and sat straight like Kanaya did then, deciding to practice discipline again she had done for her late husband so many times before. "What do the other colors mean now?"
"To be brief since we're running low on time, the light pink obviously stands for either a new maid or a maid that hasn't proved her worth yet, the salmon a maid that has shown her value through her work (usually in front of the Queen herself), the hot pink is only for her restroom assistant, and the fuchsia her dressing servants. The pink apron dresses are her kitchen maids, and you know of the remaining colors. Are there any other questions lingering or shall I proceed to fit you into a light pink?"
"For a short explanation, that was fairly informative. Thank you, we can move on."
The widow stood up from her seat and the ex-duchess followed likewise, setting the thick fabric on the comforter after her. Kanaya turned to her right and approached the basket of light pink frilly dresses, each of white aprons and under ruffles.
"Let's try this small one first," she said while bending over to examine the pins. The yellow ball-end pins stood for the small size, and there seemed to be only one left. Shaking her head at her luck (she didn't exactly fancy making yet another one of those dresses, why couldn't the Queen hire heavier set servants?), Kanaya lifted the dress and removed the pin from the side of the apron, turning around and smiling a little less kindly at Aradia. "Hopefully this is the right one!"
Nodding at Kanaya, Aradia removed her tattered garb and tossed it to the side, her under-gown cascading back down her body afterward. The corner of her lips turned up into an awkward smile when the tailor had tried to dress the widow herself, and shook her head at the ex-duchess when her arms weren't quite going through. The other widow released a dry laugh and stepped back to allow the witch doctor to dress herself since she was incapable of doing it.
When the widow had finished, Kanaya had her twirl around so that she could examine the fit. So far so good, but there were a few things that could be adjusted. Of course, she hadn't noticed these flaws until she got a closer inspection, but the size was okay for the time being.
"Alright, you're good to go Aradia. You can go off and find a tour guide now, but don't let this be the last time you stop by here. I wouldn't mind talking to you again, dear" Kanaya's warm smile returned and she smoothed down Aradia's apron.
"Oh of course!" Aradia matched Kanaya's smile. "We all need someone to talk to, and I've gone without for quite a good while now. Plus, you're a kind and slightly humorous woman, who wouldn't want to make conversation with you?"
"Oh, no need to flatter me darling."
Careful not to step on any of the fabrics strewn about the room, Aradiella waved good-bye to Kanaya and headed toward the door. "Don't mention it, really" she said before shutting the door behind her. The widow did honestly find the tailor to be a pleasant lady and wouldn't mind coming to see her whenever she found the time. If she ever got free time in the castle. It was probably only after bed time hours that she could wonder at all, though.
Only an hour late was an understatement. This so-called tour guide of Aradia's had shown face after she had swept the whole lower level of the castle. Way to be ahead of things, Miss Perfect (that's what the other basement maid called Aradia's tour guide, at least).
"I apologize or my unacceptable tardiness, Miss Megido, but I assure you that it was within good reason. Now then, let us abort this basement duty and return to the main floor. Come along up the stairwell" the short brunette ordered Aradia without so much as even an introduction and ascended the staircase, expecting the widow to follow immediately after her. Aradia stared at the girl's retreating form in shock at her rude behavior, and didn't actually follow her on up until after her fellow basement cleaner had patted her on the shoulder and nodded. The widow figured that it was a shared moment of understanding, but couldn't see how the girl's nod was supposed to encourage her to move on. In the end she did of course, but was wary of what the brunette's real intentions were due to the nasty tone of voice she had given Aradia.
Upon reaching the main level, Aradia found that the girl had already started down the long hallway of portraits and she had to run to catch up with the girl. What was up with the small brunette, anyways? What did she have against Aradia? She didn't even know her! It wasn't until they had reached the dark right turn at the end of the hallway that the girl stopped and turned around, hands on her hips and bottom lip jutted outward.
"Okay here's the deal: everyone that's seen you has been gossiping mad about your exceptional beauty and think that's why you almost got the open dressing position. But I don't think you're all that special. In fact, I heard you looked pretty dirty when you first entered." The girl paused for a minute to give Aradia a quick glance-over. "Since you clean up well I believe them now, but that's still not the point. You are to remain as basement cleaner or else you'll have to answer to me. I'm going to get promoted to salmon soon and maybe even the hot pink if I can help it. However, your sudden presence here is threatening my chance of rising up the echeladder so you better keep a low profile bitch, or I will end you. Capiche?"
Crazy, yes. Intelligent? Yeah, not so much. Aradiella was craving sleep at the moment, the threat from the other not fully registering with her. It took her a hot minute to process that the girl honestly meant murder if Aradia so much as made one slip-up that could affect the girl's goal in some way—even if it was settle—and blinked very slowly at her in response. Kanaya had been right about the other servants: they took their meager job way too seriously.
"Um first of all, who died and made you Queen, hon?" Aradia lifted her eyebrows at the other before passing her up and refusing to wait for the girl to follow just like she had done to Aradiella two minutes ago. "You're clearly wearing a light pink dress and last time I checked, I wasn't blind. So that makes you on the same level as me, even if you are cleaning above ground. I only take orders from respectable servants, and I will not tolerate you threatening me" she continued on with her response as she waltzed down the hallway, the clack of her pink dance heels resonating down the hall. "By this I mean if you so much as touch me, you will be the one regretting it." The widow did realize the weight of her words, but she knew she could easily take out a twig like the brunette girl and get away with the disposal safe and sound.
Scoffing, the girl had caught up to Aradia and had to work to match the widow's pace, an expression of pure malice written across the brunette's face. "You dare threaten me again and you will be the one that ends up in the grave, daughter of a bitch!" the girl snapped and her heels made a sound effect like it when she stopped in front of a wooden door. "Here's where you will be staying; with me and some of my friends. Hope you don't get too comfy, because I doubt you'll be lasting more than a week here now."
With a wicked laugh, the girl opened the door and entered. Aradia shook her head at the girl's childish behavior when the door had slammed in her face, and then opened the door herself to head on to bed.
Unfortunately, Aradiella got a bad vibe from the other girls when their loud bickering had ceased the second she walked in, their expressions varying between angry and curious. Mostly angry, though. Lovely. The widow glanced about until she found an empty bed in the corner of the room and made her way over to it.
Hardly caring if the others were watching, Aradia removed her light pink maid dress and hung it up on the hook on the wall, then climbed on under the covers in only her under gown. She was far too tired to sleep with one eye open that night, and could only hope that none of the girls tried to pull a fast one on her.
Naivety was a quality that every young woman was guilty of at some point in her life.
The following morning, Aradia had woken up of her own accord and stretched her arms into the air, feeling like she had experienced one of the best sleeps in her entire short life-time. But ignorance had proved to be bliss this time around when she had failed to notice the heart cut into the area where her breast crevice was on her dress—including the exact time she had awoken. It was suspicious that all the maids were absent.
Running down the hall when she heard no sound of another servant, Aradia ended up getting lost from all the turns she had made and to no avail did she locate another maid, either. The widow had never been more grateful when she came across a petite brunette girl that had been tracing her hand along the wall to her left. Her robed garb had been a little odd, sure, but Aradia believed she had to know at least the basic layout of the castle.
"Excuse me, Madame" Aradiella called out with a huff, and stopped just behind the brunette when she had ceased her walking as well. Aradia had to catch her breath for a moment before she could continue on. "Do you, perhaps, happen to know where the kitchen is located? I've been trying to find it for a while now, and all the other servants appear to be missing so I cannot seek aid from them."
The only other person in the hallway lifted her head and turned around, and it was then that Aradia was able to make out the foggy hue the brunette's eyes had. As soon as she had opened her mouth to apologize for her inconsiderate question, the brunette had surprised her with an answer as well as a shocking husky voice for a female.
"Make a left after this corridor ends, pass Sir Knight Strider, then turn left again at the next hall. Midway down the way you should come across two tall mahogany doors to your left. Behind them is the Queen's dining hall. Knock first, though, 'lest you disrupt her meal and will therefore receive a demotion for ill-behaviored entry. Do you have any other questions you wish to ask the seer, Aradia?" It was freaky enough that this girl had known her name already, was blind, and correctly guessed who she was as well as the directions to the dining hall, but Aradiella really had no room to complain in her current predicament. She was still grateful for the free information.
"Oh no, but thank you so much for helping me! Um, I don't believe I've ever had the fortune of knowing your name myself, so could I please have it?" Even though the girl was blind, Aradia curtseyed to show respect before stepping forward to continue travelling to her destination, but only after the brunette informed her of her name did Aradia officially depart.
"Terezi is more than enough, thank you. And don't mention it; just hurry along now before you're late. We don't want to upset our majesty, do we?" The seer had responded with a tilt of her head and wicked grin that sent a shiver down Aradia's spine. Okay, that was enough talking with the seer for one day, so Aradia decided to just walk off with a curt nod of her head (though she highly doubted that Terezi was able to tell she had done so).
When she had located the mahogany doors, the widow did as Terezi had suggested and knocked. Two times. There was the sound of muffled conversation behind the double doors and some high-pitched giggles, until eventually all went silent. Someone of higher authority must have ordered it so, Aradia figured, and she took a deep breath behind the doors before pushing them open.
Bright was the light that hit her face and she had to stop and squint for a second to adjust her eyes to it. The only person she could make out in her blinded haze was the stunning appearance of the eloquently dressed Queen in her seat at the rear end of the long table.
"It is aboat time that you joined us, guppy! Mother cuttlefish was star-fish-ting to get worried here! Come have a seat before your rood gets too culled; and I like the newt addition to your uniform, by the wave, eh-heeheehee!"