Reaver's Servants
Chicken Soup for the Deviant Soul
"Cough, cough…"
Miss Sarah's room seemed stuffier with all the medicinal supplies sitting around her bed. Shaking the thermometer, Rosie sighed softly and bent down. "Open wide, Miss Sarah." She said, softly. Miss Sarah opened her mouth and let the thermometer rest under her tongue. Rosie folded her arms and waited. Miss Sarah didn't like the thought of being babied, but seeing as she was too sick to even open her eyes all the way, she had no choice. The evening was warm, but Miss Sarah was shivering. After a few minutes, Rosie took the thermometer from Miss Sarah's mouth. "One hundred and three; Miss Sarah, you have a pretty high fever." said Rosie, placing the thermometer in a cup nearby.
Sitting up was hard to do, as every bone in Miss Sarah's body ached. "I can't be sick!" she shouted, her voice sounding more stuffy than usual. "I have to get dinner ready before Mr. Reaver comes home!" Miss Sarah tried to get out of bed, but Rosie softly laid her back down.
"Miss Sarah, you can barely stand, how are you going to make anything?" Rosie reasoned. "You stay in bed. I'll make you some herbal tea. That always makes me feel better." Rosie picked up the cup and thermometer and left Miss Sarah's room.
Rosie noticed Barry immediately as she closed the door to Miss Sarah's room. "Well, how is she doing?" he asked, sounding very urgent.
"She's got a pretty mean fever. She'll be alright, though, as long as we leave her alone and let her rest." said Rosie, handing the cup and thermometer to Barry.
"How mean are we talking?" asked Barry.
"One hundred and three, Mr. Hatch." Rosie sighed.
Barry gasped softly. "My mother had a home remedy she used to give me whenever I had a high fever." He said, following Rosie to the kitchen. "It tasted like tuna fish and it usually cleared my fever right up." He added, with a smile.
"As…disgusting as that sounds, Miss Sarah just needs rest and plenty of fluids." grumbled Rosie, as she reached into the cupboards of the kitchen.
"That's the beauty of it! It was drinkable!" he said, happily. "I remember the recipe, I'll make some!" Rosie grabbed the back of his jacket and he stopped dead in his tracks.
"There is no way you are giving Miss Sarah anything that tastes like tuna that needs to be drank from a cup! Why not just give her Reavie's cat food while we're discussing things that shouldn't be consumed by humans." growled Rosie. "If you want to help, go make sure she is comfortable. I'll bring up some tea for her."
Barry grumbled as he made his way out of the kitchen. Willa and Beryl ran up to him. "Did Rosie go check on Miss Sarah?" asked Beryl.
"Yeah, Miss Sarah has a high fever. Rosie says the best thing to do is leave her alone and let her rest." Barry folded his arms and looked at the two.
Willa and Beryl nodded as Barry shook his head. "Well, if Miss Sarah is sick, who's going to make dinner tonight?" asked Willa.
Barry scratched his head and thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Master Reaver is expecting his dinner when he gets home. Ironically, he asked for vegetable soup. He's probably not feeling well either." said Barry. "Can you cook, Mr. Hatch?" asked Beryl.
Barry shook his head. "I burn water, sadly. What about you two?"
Beryl started to panic as Willa beamed with happiness. "I can cook!" Willa shouted happily. Barry smiled softly but then noticed Beryl, who was a few steps behind Willa, waving her arms and silently shouting "NO! DON'T!"
"What can you cook, Willa?" Barry asked.
"Anything Miss Sarah can!" Willa shouted happily.
"Well, Master Reaver will be home in a few hours, and I don't have time to run into town and get something from a restaurant." Barry mused, rubbing his chin. "Alright, you're our temporary cook for tonight, just have Rosie and Beryl help you and for the love of everything, use a stool!"
Willa, not offended by the stool remark, smiled wide. "Just leave it to me! Mr. Reaver will love it! I just have to get some fresh veggies from Gordon." Willa ran excitedly out the front door.
Beryl sighed. "You have no idea what you've just unleashed on to Miss Sarah's kitchen, do you?" Beryl asked, as she walked away.
"Something told me I was going to regret it the moment I asked if anyone else could cook." Barry lamented, as he followed Beryl into the kitchen.
Miss Sarah sat up in bed, trying not to fall over. Most of her hair was bunched up in a nightcap, to help her cool down. "I hate being sick. I hate being treated like I'm a child." She mumbled, barely able to open her eyes. She heard a knock at her door. "It's open." She grumbled. Barry walked in, a smile on his face.
"Rosie sent me up with some tea, Miss Sarah." He said, happily carrying a tray with a tea set.
"You didn't have to bring it up, Mr. Hatch." Miss Sarah grumbled.
"Well, it's the least I can do; Rosie won't let me make you my mother's home remedy." He laughed.
"My grandmother used to make me onion soup whenever I was sick." mumbled Miss Sarah, as Barry poured her a cup of tea.
"Did you live with your grandmother?" he asked.
Miss Sarah shook her head. "She lived with me and my family until she died when I was six. My parents were always busy, so she watched me and my brother." Miss Sarah coughed softly.
Barry smiled and slowly handed her a cup of tea. "You don't talk about your family much, Miss Sarah." said Barry, as he poured a cup for himself.
"I could say the same for you, Mr. Hatch." She giggled, before letting out a little cough.
Barry chuckled and sighed. "Fair enough. What would you like to know?" he asked.
"You talk about your mother a lot. Is she still alive?" Miss Sarah asked, finally being able to open her eyes.
Barry nodded and added a sugar cube to his tea. "Yes, she is. I write her sparsely, though. A very private woman, my mother; ever since my father died, anyway." Barry sipped his tea softly. "She was very attentive though, and supportive. She worked long hours in a factory in industrial after my father died, but she always made time for me, no matter how tired she was." Sipping her tea, Miss Sarah smiled warmly, the steam from the tea opening up her nasal passages. "She moved to Brightwall after I left home. I write her every now and then." Barry sipped his tea again.
"I didn't see much of my parents growing up." said Miss Sarah, blowing softly on her tea. "After my grandmother died, it was usually just me and my brother." She sighed softly and sipped again. Barry smiled at Miss Sarah and poured her some more tea. Miss Sarah sniffed the air. "Mr. Hatch, do you smell eggplants?" she asked.
In the kitchen, Willa got to work chopping eggplants. Rosie, Willa's unwilling assistant in the task, stood close by. Willa raised the knife high and sliced unevenly into the poor little eggplant. "Alright, now after we've sliced open about five of these, we need to stuff them!" she said, excitedly.
"With what?" asked Rosie, wiping pieces of eggplant off of her face.
"More eggplant!" Willa shouted happily.
"Are you sure this is how you make vegetable soup? I don't recall there ever being…so much eggplant." said Rosie, looking at all the eggplant.
Beryl then walked in with a basket of vegetables. "Here are the veggies you asked for, straight from Gordon's garden." Beryl said, plopping the basket on the counter.
"Great! Now, I need one of you to cook the rice and then shuck the oysters." said Willa, wiping her hands on her apron.
"Rice? Oysters? Since when does rice or oysters go in vegetable soup?" shouted Beryl.
"The oysters are essential!" whined Willa, pacing the kitchen.
"How do we even know that? I haven't seen a recipe and most of your instructions don't make sense." Rosie reasoned, holding a bag of rice. "Willa, how many times have you successfully made anything edible? I've only seen you cook a few times and each time something goes horribly wrong."
Willa fumed as Rosie and Beryl each discussed the times when Willa made anything. "Remember the ringleader's birthday dinner before Miss Sarah joined the circus?" asked Rosie.
"Yeah, who knew a caravan roof could blow that high?" said Beryl. "And let's not forget the time those clowns had to go to the hospital."
"What about when the lions got sick?"
"Or how about that riot when we performed in Oakfield a few years back?"
"And let's not forget the time we had to cancel an entire show in Bowerstone!"
Willa's temper reached its point and she screamed. "Okay! I get it! I have had a little trouble cooking in the past!" she whined.
"Well, it might help if we had a clear recipe." said Rosie. "Do you have it on you, Willa?" Willa quivered for a second. "Well?" asked Rosie. Willa shook her head in shame and whined a bit.
"Well, in that case, maybe we should look for Miss Sarah's recipes. I'm sure she doesn't keep them hidden." said Beryl.
The girls split up and looked around the kitchen, opening drawers and shifting things around. Willa crawled into a cabinet and looked around. "I can't find anything. Does she keep her recipes in a special place? Does she have a cook book or a tin full of index cards?" asked Willa.
"I'm not sure. I've seen her do research on certain dishes Mr. Reaver asked her to make, but I'm not sure if she keeps any reference." answered Rosie. "Miss Sarah is pretty modest, so I doubt she would depend on her abilities alone. Even someone like Miss Sarah needs a reference."
Meanwhile, upstairs, Miss Sarah laughed softly at Barry's story. She already looked like she was feeling better, though her body still ached. "…and then he said, 'Why not put your money where your mouth is and let the gold do the talking!' and that, Miss Sarah, is how Master Reaver got me to stuff ten sea urchins down my pants." He chuckled, softly as he blushed deeply.
Miss Sarah giggled softly and finished her tea. "Oh my, now I see why you don't tell that story often. It must have been painful!" she giggled.
Barry only chuckled softly. "Well, it seems we're out of tea. I should probably go make sure the girls haven't destroyed the kitchen yet." He said, picking up the tea set. "You should be getting your rest, anyway." Barry left Miss Sarah's room and made his way to the dining room. He sighed happily, but his smile quickly went away when he heard crashing coming from the kitchen. He ran downstairs and to the kitchen, watching papers and utensils fly everywhere. "What are you three doing?" shouted Barry.
"Oh! Mr. Hatch, we're looking for Miss Sarah's recipes." said Willa, digging through the pantry with a colander on her head. "Do you know if Miss Sarah keeps any references anywhere?"
Barry walked over to the counter and opened a drawer. He took out a small yellow tin box and then took the colander off Willa's head. "Here. Now, clean this up before Master Reaver gets home!" he shouted, handing the tin box to Willa.
The girls watched Barry leave the kitchen. "Alright girls, let's see…vegetable soup…veggie soup…Here we go!" Willa shouted happily, holding the index card up. "Alright, a big pot of veggie soup coming right up!" the girls excitedly ran about the kitchen, gathering this and that.
Outside, Gordon pulled weeds from the flower bushes and tossed them into a basket. Barry sat nearby, on a cement bench. He had come outside to escape the warzone that had become the kitchen, but he could still hear pots and pans clanging about. Barry knew he had made a horrible decision, but he still tried to ignore it. "Well, what do you wish to know about Miss Sarah?" asked Gordon, stabbing his trowel into the dirt.
"Well, whenever I asked about her parents, she just changed the subject." said Barry.
Gordon sat up and wiped his brow with his sleeve. Despite the chill in the air, Gordon worked up quite a sweat in the garden. "Not surprising. She didn't tell me much, but from I do know, and don't tell her I told you this, her parents were always trying to marry her off. Ever since she was a kid, she felt more like cattle at auction than a child; afraid of being sold to the highest bidder, so to speak. It stopped when she began a romance with one of those elites. Of course, it started back up again when he died. I guess it was around that time she decided she had just plain had enough and left." Barry only nodded, knowing nothing else needed to be said. Gordon stood up and wiped the sweat from his brow again. "Mr. Hatch, Beryl came out here earlier with a big basket and asked me for some vegetables. What is Miss Sarah making tonight?" he asked.
"Miss Sarah's not feeling well, so Rosie, Beryl, and Willa are making dinner. Master Reaver asked for vegetable soup, so they're making that. Though, the kitchen smells like eggplants and they tore the entire pantry apart looking for Miss Sarah's recipe tin." said Barry.
"This won't end well." warned Gordon.
Inside, the girls clamored around the kitchen. "Alright, it says 'combine all chopped vegetables into the pot with chicken broth'." Willa read from the card. "Do we have chicken broth?"
Rosie shrugged and went to the pantry. "No, we don't, but I think we have some chicken in the ice box." She said, walking out of the pantry and going over to the ice box.
"How do you make chicken broth?" asked Willa.
Beryl shrugged. "Well, I assume it involves chickens." She said, as Rosie walked back up to them.
"The chicken in the ice box is completely frozen. It'll take hours to thaw." She said, placing the frozen chicken on the counter.
"Maybe we can make the soup without the chicken broth." said Willa.
"Without the chicken broth, it's basically vegetables floating in hot water." Beryl sighed.
"Alright, I was hoping I would never have a reason to bring this up, but the other day when I was cleaning Mr. Reaver's room, I heard clucking noises behind his bookshelf." said Rosie.
Barry walked back inside to check on the girls. He noticed they weren't in the kitchen. "Maybe they gave up and decided to get something from the town…or saw a shiny object and chased after it." He sighed, as he closed the front doors. He went into the kitchen to clean up a bit but stopped when he heard clamoring upstairs. It was coming from Reaver's room. He wasn't home yet, so that could only mean one thing. "He will kill them with his bare hands if he finds them in his room." Barry panicked, and ran upstairs.
He stopped short of the hallway when a chicken came running past with three maids chasing it. "Here chickie-chickie!" shouted Willa, as she dove for it.
Beryl tried to block its path but it went between her legs and down the stairs. "What on Earth are you three doing?" shouted Barry.
"Chicken for chicken broth!" shouted Willa. Rosie sprinted past him, holding a frying pan. Barry rubbed his eyes and gave chase as well.
Feathers flying, the chicken gained the attention of Reavie, who had been napping on a chair in the foyer. The chicken stopped when Reavie hopped onto the floor and seemingly beamed an evil kitty grin. The chicken panicked and ran in the opposite direction. Gordon walked inside at this point and saw the chicken fly by him, with three maids and a cat chasing it. Barry rubbed his eyes and grabbed Reavie before she could go outside. "I want no part in this, I'm just going to make sure Miss Sarah is resting and maybe make her something." He said, as he walked away.
"Who knew making vegetable soup would be so stressful?" shouted Beryl, as she and the others chased the chicken around Millfields.
The nobles that lived around the lake only watched in frightened amusement. "Reaver should really keep those miscreants under control." said one noblewoman, as the girls ran past.
They ran along the path of the lake, and didn't see Reaver along the main path, carrying something. "I wonder what all the commotion is down there." He muttered to himself, as he walked along the path. He still had a ways to go before he reached the manor.
"Gotcha!" shouted Willa, holding onto the chicken with dear life. "Alright, let's get back to the manor before Mr. Reaver gets home!" the girls ran back to the manor. Obviously not seeing Reaver on the main path, the girls ran inside and to the kitchen. "Alright, let's make some chicken broth!" shouted Willa, happily. Rosie started up the stove and Beryl put the chicken inside. "Alright, according to the recipe, it should become broth in a few minutes." said Willa, trying to talk over the mad clucking in the pot.
"Should we…have killed it first?" asked Rosie.
"The recipe doesn't say." answered Willa. "Okay, while that's doing that, let's make some bread!" The girls nodded and walked over to the pantry.
Reaver was about to open the front door when he heard an explosion coming from inside. Though he didn't want to, he opened the door slowly and let the smoke billow out. He watched as a blackened chicken dizzily strode by and he slowly walked inside. The girls ran from the kitchen, coughing, covered in soot. Beryl wiped off her glasses and panicked, seeing Reaver standing in front of them. Reaver placed what he was holding down and slowly walked to the three girls.
"Ladies, care to explain why my kitchen has smoke coming out of it?" he said, calmly. The girls shook in their places. Reaver reached for his gun and held his hand over it. "I suggest one of you start explaining before I start shooting, and be grateful that I am giving you the opportunity."
The girls looked at each other and Willa held up her hand. "It's my fault, Mr. Reaver. I enlisted Rosie and Beryl to help me cook since Miss Sarah wasn't feeling well. We didn't quite get the recipe right…"
"OBVIOUSLY!" shouted Reaver. "Well, I will go easy on you all since you admitted responsibility. But, I doubt Miss Sarah wants to see the kitchen in such a state when she starts to feel better. Rosie and Beryl, you two clean the kitchen, top to bottom. And I mean top…" he pointed to the ceiling. "…to bottom." He pointed to the floor. "I want it so clean that Miss Sarah will be able to see her reflection in the floors. Every nook and cranny, even places you wouldn't think of, spic and span. Is that understood?" he said, putting his hand on his hip. Rosie and Beryl nodded. "I will be inspecting it personally when you two are done, and trust me; I am a far more brutal judge than Miss Sarah. I suggest you get started." Rosie and Beryl nodded and ran into the kitchen. "As for you, Willa, since this is all your idea, I have a far more…suitable punishment for you. And Hatch said I'd never find a use for it." laughed Reaver, directing Willa to a nearby closet.
As the evening went on, Barry collected Reaver's dishes from the dinner table. "How is Miss Sarah doing?" asked Reaver, as he sipped his wine.
"I'm happy to report she's doing much better, Sir. I made her some of my mother's old home remedy and she immediately started feeling better. She should be back in the kitchen very soon." said Barry, with a smile. "By the way, Master Reaver, how did you know to bring something home for dinner?" asked Barry, motioning to the empty box on the table next to the big ceramic pot that it once contained.
"When Miss Sarah was making breakfast this morning, I could tell she wasn't feeling well. I'm the one that sent her back to bed and told Rosie to check on her. I decided that when I was done at the factory, I would pick up some soup from a restaurant in the city. Though, in retrospect, I probably should have told the servants that first." laughed Reaver as Barry picked up his dishes. Reaver then stopped Barry. "No, Hatch, you've done quite enough today, taking care of Miss Sarah and all. I'll have someone else pick up the dishes." Reaver looked too happy. "Willa! Come in here!" he shouted, jovially.
Willa, in a chicken outfit adorned with bows, slowly waddled her way into the dining room. Barry covered his mouth, trying to keep his laughter down. "Yes, Mr. Reaver?" asked Willa, softly.
"Take the dishes into the kitchen and tell the others to wash them when they are done cleaning the kitchen." He said, trying not to sputter his laughter.
Willa nodded and to the best of her abilities (in a chicken outfit) took the dishes downstairs. Gordon passed by her with a tray and tried to keep from laughing. He carried the tray (containing a coffee pot and a cup) toward the servant's hallway. "How long does she have to be in that thing?" asked Gordon, in between chuckles.
"Two weeks, with no chance of parole." chuckled Barry.
"It probably doesn't help that she looks horrifically adorable in that thing." laughed Gordon, as he made his way into the servant's hall.
"Given the circumstances, I think I'd rather be cleaning the kitchen top to bottom than be in that thing." said Barry, pouring more wine for Reaver.
"Why do you say that, Hatch?" asked Reaver.
"Well, because eventually they'll be done cleaning the kitchen. That chicken suit looks uncomfortable to be in for more than a few minutes." Reaver nodded in agreement and sipped his wine.
In his office, Reaver reclined in his chair, looking out the window. The heat wave that had been plaguing Albion the last few weeks had died down and he noticed the leaves on the trees were starting to get crisp. "My, my, it would appear that summer is coming to a close." He muttered to Reavie, who sat on the desk, cleaning herself. "It feels like yesterday I hired my circus rejects. I'm not sure why, but I think they are making me soft." He mused, looking at the cat. Reavie just purred. "Why, you ask? Well, for one, with my previous servants, I would have shot them for something much less than what happened today. Second, I would have never kept you around." He patted Reavie on her head as she mewed. "Of course, you coming here is probably the best thing that happened so far." He said, as he filled his ink pen and opened his journal.
"Willa is adorable and a wonderful maid, but as far as cooking goes…well, let's just say she will probably never make a good wife in that regard. Her heart was in the right place for wanting to help out Miss Sarah, but her head, sadly, was not. Why on all of glorious Albion would she think she could cook as well as Miss Sarah? I have no idea what goes through that adorable little head of hers, sometimes. I am happy to report that Miss Sarah is feeling much better now. I went to check on her before I came to my office. She made it very clear she didn't need me to check if she had a chest cold."
Reaver reached for his coffee cup and took a sip. He had taken it from Miss Sarah's room, not knowing what Gordon was thinking giving a sick person coffee.
"Summer, sadly, is coming to an end in a few short weeks. It has been a long and pretty eventful summer, but something has me looking forward to the fall. Crisp leaves, the cooler air, a brand new wardrobe. Ahh, I do love shopping for different seasons. The only bad part is the servants will need new uniforms for the colder weather. Soon, it will be bye-bye low cut necklines and short skirts and hello long-sleeves and thicker stockings. Oh well, I would rather my help not catch pneumonia. They would be of no use to me, then. Of course, the end of the summer means one glorious thing: The End of Summer Festival! Oh, I cannot wait!"
Reaver sipped his coffee as he closed his journal. He winced a bit and sniffed it. He couldn't help but take a few more sips.
"Odd, this coffee tastes like tuna fish…"
N'cha you guys!
So, being in a state of near coma like sickness gave me the idea for this story. Ahh, near death, the best inspiration.
Like many of you, I'm sure you all did the "Reaver's Unmentionables" quest in Fable III. Personally, it would have been more fun to actually sneak around the manor instead of just walking in and walking out like you just came home because you forgot something. I still laugh at that quest each time I replay that game. It's disturbing, and sometimes I feel I should be wearing rubber gloves and using a pair of salad tongs to pick up his undies. My friend beside me as I played was like "Shouldn't they be glowing? I figure they'd be partially radioactive." We laughed and laughed and went back to playing.
Ahh well.
Next Installment: Not gonna lie, this one may take me a while, because I want it to be perfect. Romance at the summer festival, and if you guys have been paying attention, you'll know who's falling in love!
As always, I appreciate all reviews and I want to thank you all for your continuing support. Review and be merry, my friends.
Tatty-bye for now, my doves!
Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.