Reaver's Servants
A Quiet Autumn Evening
The early evening was still somewhat bright, with birds quieting down for the night and the cold weather finally coming in. Gone were the short sleeves and the even shorter skirts of the servant's uniforms. Now, they were replaced with long sleeves, longer dress skirts, and thicker striped stockings. Each of the female servants enjoyed the new uniforms, though it didn't stop a certain employer from pinching their behinds at every turn. Though this evening, something was off in Lakeview Manor and it had Reaver a tad bit confused.
Reaver didn't like how oddly quiet it was for early evening. He didn't like the quiet. Normally, he'd see his servants running about doing their various chores, but today Reaver was a little worried. Maybe worried wasn't the word he'd use, he didn't want the servants to think he was soft, especially for them. Infuriated was the word Reaver wanted to use. Yes, infuriated that his servants were nowhere to be found when he called for them.
Emerging from his office, Reaver noticed the quiet even more. He had been in his office going over new plans for a factory expansion and hadn't left all day. Even at lunch time, Reaver instructed Barry to just leave the tray on the table by the door. He hadn't touched it, though. Reaver's lunch was still on the silver tray with the silver covering. It was probably long cold by now, and Reaver's stomach was growling. By the position of the sun outside his office window, Reaver estimated it was about time for dinner. He decided to check on dinner, which he oddly didn't smell.
"Miss Sarah?" Reaver asked, poking his head into the kitchen. Miss Sarah, who was usually busy making dinner at that time, seemed to be oddly absent as well. He remembered instructing Miss Sarah that he wanted roast beef and veggies for dinner, but didn't see anything of the sort being made. The kitchen, which Miss Sarah kept immaculate, was bare. Reaver scratched his head and stepped into the kitchen. "Maybe she trapped herself in the pantry again. I swear, sometimes…"
When Reaver opened the pantry doors, he found the fully stocked pantry missing one chef. "Miss Sarah, are you in here?" he shouted into the pantry. Reaver felt like a fool and left the kitchen. Reaver dusted off his vest and looked toward the stairs when he thought he heard footsteps. He ran up the stairs and smiled wickedly, but found the dining room bare. Reaver scratched his chin and went back downstairs.
Something wasn't right, and Reaver didn't like it. It wasn't Wednesday, so he knew he hadn't forgotten their night off again. Reaver didn't recall giving anyone a day off, let alone all of his servants. Once Reaver thought about it for a good long while, he realized that even his cat, Reavie, was missing.
Reavie, who usually spent her days lying on the piano bench near the main doorway or bothering Miss Sarah for scraps of food, was also absent from the manor it seemed. "Reavie?" Reaver called out into the study. He sometimes found her in there chasing moths or sharpening her claws on his chair. Reaver walked into the study and looked around. The chair was sitting there, looking pretty nice from its last reupholster job. There was no sign of the servants or his cat, though.
Reaver stood up straight when he thought he heard the front door close with the sounds of footsteps behind him. Reaver turned around swiftly but saw no one. Leaving the study, Reaver walked over to the front doors and opened one wide. He popped his head outside and looked around. Whoever was running around must have come inside, because Reaver would have seen someone running from the front of the house. Feeling he finally cornered one of his elusive servants, Reaver marched upstairs.
No one in the dining room, so Reaver decided to check the servant's hallway. He opened the door leading to the servant's quarters but found that hallway bare as well. Reaver opened each door (the doors in the servant's hallway didn't have locks) and noticed each room was empty, save for each individual servant's personal effects. "Well, they didn't run off, all their junk is still here." He murmured, leaving the servant's hallway.
Reaver huffed loudly and folded his arms like a scolded child. It was at that moment that he realized he hadn't been in any of the servant's rooms. He had been in Rosie's once, but not long enough to see anything too damning (except the collection of stuffed animals amongst the odd gypsy items). At that moment, Reaver realized he knew more about this batch of servants than he ever knew about his old servants. Reaver often made a note not to get too attached to his help, as most of the time they didn't last long.
He tried not to think too much about it. Reaver didn't like diving too much into his help's lives unless there was some benefit to him. In the case of his current batch of servants, there rarely was. The most he had to go on was that Rosie was allergic to ginger and Miss Sarah had an irrational fear of oceans. Not much blackmail material, but he still liked to know he could keep the servants in check if need be.
Scratching his chin again, Reaver looked around and tried to think. "I don't remember giving them the night off, and I certainly would have remembered a holiday of some kind. I recall Hatch roaming around earlier, but he didn't look too occupied. Maybe they are in the garden with Gordon. I shall make a note to punish them severely for not being around when I need them. I could be dying and they wouldn't know!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.
Reaver tried to remember something of any significance as he made his way to the garden. He remembered a few days ago overhearing Barry tell Willa, "No, I don't want any part of this. I'll help you get it ready, but this was your idea. You're taking the wrap for this, I don't care if he likes it or not."
At the time, Reaver didn't know what Barry was talking about and decided to ignore it, like he did with most things around his home that didn't pertain to him. He was starting to think he should have paid closer attention and scratched his chin a little more.
Stomping outside, Reaver made his way around the big statue of himself and opened the garden gate. The garden, which was trimmed and blooming despite the cold front coming in, was empty of his servants. "Gordon, are you here? I need assistance! Miss Sarah hasn't started dinner yet and the others are missing! I can't even find Hatch and Reavie!" Reaver shouted, hoping he'd find Gordon in the garden. When he looked over and saw the garden shed door wide open, Reaver felt relieved. "Gordon, good, you can help me…"
Opening the garden shed proved ineffectual. The shed contained all the gardening tools that Gordon used on a daily basis but not Gordon. Closing the garden doors, Reaver walked back toward the garden gate and turned his attention over at the clothesline. He knew today was laundry day and sure enough, some of his laundry was waving in the early evening breeze. This meant Rosie had been outside recently. Rosie knew Reaver liked his laundry done promptly and didn't like the moist night air getting into his expensive clothes.
"Rosie should be by at any moment to take those in. She knows how I hate the nighttime moisture in the fabric." Reaver resigned himself to sitting on a nearby stone bench. He took out his pocket watch and glared at the time with anguish. Almost twenty minutes passed before Reaver lost his patience. He gripped his pocket watch tight enough for the glass to crack.
"That is coming out of their pay!" he grumbled, glaring at the night sky. Reaver stood up and marched out of the garden, slamming the garden gate as he left. "I have had quite enough of this nonsense!" he shouted.
Reaver glanced over at the path leading to his front gate and saw it open slowly. He squinted softly and watched a small figure leave the property. He recognized that short stature anywhere. Willa (or her shadow, rather) ran from the front gate toward the hill. "Little Bit!" Reaver shouted, running toward his front gate. Reaver saw the shadow look behind herself and gasp loudly, picking up the pace and running up the hill as fast as she could go. It looked like she was carrying something.
"Get back here!" Reaver shouted, making sure his hat stayed on as he gave chase. He heard Willa shout in panic and pick up the pace. For someone as short as she was, Willa was a fast runner and Reaver soon found himself out of breath and leaning against a tree. He grasped his chest and took deep breaths as he watched Willa's shadow disappear towards the hill. Reaver glanced up once and sighed. Wherever she went, she was probably already ahead of him.
Reaver certainly had a mystery on his hands. First his servants were nowhere to be found. Then, when he finally found one, she runs away from him. Reaver didn't like what was going on, mostly because he was out of the loop. He didn't like that at all. Making sure his gun was close, Reaver walked up the path a little ways.
He walked up the hill that led towards Driftwood, a small village on the coast. He remembered the day he bought this land and ousted those annoying Eco-warriors (or whatever they were calling themselves nowadays). Peace and love was all well and good, but Reaver detested these people with a fiery vengeance and the moment the deed was approved (anyone, even a smelly gypsy, wouldn't refuse a giant sack of gold when it was handed to them); he went about destroying what was left of the caravans. Barry often asked him why he bought this seemingly worthless land. Reaver told him to mind his own business immediately afterward.
The moment Reaver stepped onto the bridge he was met by the resident bandit troupe that had made their home amongst the destroyed caravans. The descended from the trees and popped up from behind bushes, greeting Reaver with greedy smiles. The leader, stepping forward, brandished his gun.
Reaver, clearly not frightened by the bandits, cleared his throat. "Excuse me, my good gentlemen; you lot haven't seen a small troupe of servants wandering around Bower Lake, have you?" Reaver asked. The bandits grinned at each other and then back to Reaver. Reaver sighed softly and straightened out his vest. "Well, I'm sure you've seen them around. Even in this decrepit place, you've noticed my lovely manor. It's right over there just beyond the bridge and down the hill. Lake front property is not cheap but worth every coin, I assure you. Now, let's get down to business."
The bandit leader laughed loudly, his troupe joining in. "Business? What business do you, of all people, have with us? Need someone knocked off?" he laughed. Reaver did not find this amusing. He looked behind the trees and noted the sun was going down. It was almost dinner time.
"Haha, yes, I would come to you for such an unspeakable act, but alas I am in no need of someone's undoing. Not this week, anyway. I am merely looking for my servants. You've seen them around, I'm sure. One is an orange haired man that conveniently disappears on full moons, that's my assistant, Barry. The other five are Miss Sarah, my cook; Gordon, my gardener; Rosie, Willa, and Beryl, my other maids. You'd notice them right away, if the servant's outfits don't give them away." Reaver watched patiently as the bandit leader folded his arms. "I need to find them soon. It's almost dinner time and I like having my dinner promptly at…"
Before Reaver could take out his pocket watch, the bandits descended on Reaver en masse. The only thing heard from that area was rapid gunfire and the sounds of bandits running for their lives. The nobles by the lake looked up at the hill in shock, wondering what was going on.
Reaver dusted off his vest and reloaded his gun. Around him lay the entire bandit troupe. The leader, still somehow alive, looked up at Reaver as he came closer. "Now, if we're done with that embarrassing spectacle, I think we can finally get down to business. I'm going to ask you again and I want an answer this time: Have…you…seen…my…servants?" Reaver knelt down, his hands behind his back. The bandit leader shook his head. Reaver made a tsking sound with his mouth and tongue and stood up. "You haven't seen my cat at all either, I bet." He murmured. Before the bandit leader could answer, Reaver shot him point blank.
Making his was down the hill again, Reaver noticed it was now completely dark. "I swear I am going to give it to them good, and not in the good way!" he shouted, stomping his way down the hill. After he went down the hill, he noticed some of the nobles by the lake. Making his way toward the lake, Reaver noticed something odd about the bridge leading to the gazebo on the lake.
Keeping his hand on his gun, Reaver slowly made his way toward the path to the lake. As he approached, he realized that the lights were actually paper lanterns and streamers made a path along the walkway. Reaver had this gazebo put up years ago, around the time of Lakeview's construction. Once again, when Barry (who had just been hired at the time) asked why, Reaver told him to mind his own business.
Reaver made his way toward the gazebo dock and looked down at the streamers. He brushed a few out of his way and finally made his way to the gazebo itself. On the stone table sat a red box. The tag was simple and it said "To Mister Reaver. Open me!" in cute cursive. This had to be from his servants. Only they called him Mr. Reaver. Reaver pulled the tag and the box opened with a loud "POOF" and a shower on confetti, followed by noisemakers and clapping.
Looking behind him, Reaver was met by his clapping servants and a few of the nobles that begrudgingly called themselves his neighbors. "Happy Birthday, Mr. Reaver!" they shouted, as Miss Sarah presented him with a three layered cake.
"Birthday?" he murmured, trying to get his eye to stop twitching.
Gordon nodded and held up his gift. "We didn't know when your birthday was, since you don't talk about it. So, after going through some old papers we found, we discovered it was today!" Gordon handed Reaver his gift to him as each servant stepped forward.
"We didn't have much time to get this little shin-dig going, but we pieced together something just in time!" Beryl shouted happily, handing her small gift to her boss. "We had to convince Mr. Hatch to help us put all this together, and Miss Sarah made you a lovely birthday dinner and cake!" Beryl pointed to Miss Sarah, who happily held up the cake and placed it on the stone table. Willa and Rosie stepped forward next, each giving their gift to their boss. Rosie held Reavie, who jumped from her arms and into Reaver's.
Barry smiled and handed his gift to Reaver as well. "Happy Birthday, Master Reaver." He murmured, joining the rest of the servants. Reaver looked among his servants and smiled. Before he knew it, Miss Sarah was serving everyone a special birthday dinner.
Reaver decided to let this one slide. After the wine was poured and the dinner served, Reaver started to open his gifts. While they were lackluster at best, and Reaver was quick to point that out, he secretly appreciated each one as he placed them back in their respective boxes. Reaver opened Barry's gift last, revealing a brand new pocket watch. "I saved up for a while to get it for you. I figured after today, you'd probably need one. I'm surprised you didn't toss yours out the window wondering where we were."
In his mind, Reaver catalogued each gift. Gordon bought Reaver a brand new silk hat, Rosie got him some new goggles, Willa bought him a new pen set, Beryl bought him a new journal, and Miss Sarah's gift was the cake and the delicious dinner she made.
With a happy sigh, Reaver smiled at the gifts and then looked up at his servants as the nobles left the area. "I don't know what to say, my dears. In all my years, none of my servants ever treated me so well. With an exception to Hatch, most of the time my servants have ignored me unless I gave them orders. But I must say, never in my time here have I ever had a group of servants go above and beyond just for me. I must say, I'm honored."
The servants smiled to each other, feeling they did well. Reaver chuckled softly and glared at the servants. "Now, tell me, my doves; how did you find out it was my birthday? I must admit, I've been so busy, I completely forgot myself."
Willa perked up as she dipped her fork into her slice of cake. "We found some old boxes in the basement while helping Rosie with the laundry the other day. Me, Beryl, Rosie, Miss Sarah, and Gordon decided that with all the hard work you've been doing. I mean, who works so hard and forgets their own birthday?" The servants laughed as Reaver softly put his cake slice on the stone table.
Reaver stood up and placed his hand on his hip. "My dears, didn't you think there was a reason those boxes were tucked away in the basement like that?" he asked. The servant's laughter slowly died as Reaver reached for his gun and smiled devilishly. "Maybe I don't like being reminded of how old I am. Not that I don't appreciate this little shin-dig, but I must say going through my private papers cannot go unpunished." Reaver laughed as he cocked his gun. "But because you all were so kind to me, I won't use my gun and I'll give you a five second head start. Hatch, fetch me my whip!"
With that, the servants ran for their very lives. From the gazebo, Barry watched Reaver chase the servants around Bower Lake, the crack of a whip being silenced amongst the screams of the panicking servants. "This will teach you to go through my personal belongings!" Reaver shouted with the whip's tip hitting Gordon's behind as he and the others ran. Barry dipped his fork into his cake slice and chewed slowly. Reavie sat next to him and mewed softly over her saucer of milk.
"Well, can't say I didn't warn them." Barry murmured, placing the fork to his mouth. Reavie mewed in agreement and watched the spectacle with light amusement.
N'cha, my doves!
Oh my, how long has it been? Over a year?! AHHHH! I am so late!
Well, I've been busy, if you must know. I've been busy with my projects over in the portal area and a few other things as well. I know I said I was planning to end this fic, but I've decided instead to just make it a series of quickies along with a few big chapters in between. You know humorous little tid-bits to get you through the day. I've been too wracked with other projects in and out of fanfiction that I don't have a lot of time on my hands like I used to.
I didn't want to abandon this project, as it has sentimental value to me. It was the first fic I published on this site and I told myself I'd see it through to a proper ending. Don't worry, I have an ending planned but it won't happen for a while.
You've probably noticed the spring cleaning I've been doing for this fic. Well, consider it a little gift from me to you, my loves. Though, at least two of the chapters I left as they were, because of how dialogue heavy they were. I might go back and fix them up when I have time.
In the meantime, go enjoy some of my other fics. I know you'll love them. Some characters from my other fics might be making cameos in a few of the upcoming chapters. Ahh! What fun!
So, it's good to be back, my doves! Let me know how I did and give me some delicious, delicious feedback. Read, review, and be merry!
Reaver and Barry Hatch belong to Lionhead.