As I finished up tidying around the last passed out drunk, I saw the time. Was it already coming to evening? My first day, and I was already out of puff. However, I lumbered on, throwing the cleaning supplies back where they belonged and went to find Mr Hatch. I was hoping to avoid Reaver, even if he didn't remember me- thank Avo for that.

Reaver's mansion was huge, with so many rooms and hallways leading off; it was very easy to get lost. I was wandering through the east wing trying to look busy with a duster, straining my ears for any rebel's voices when I heard someone call my name- It was Mr Hatch.

"Thank goodness I found you- did you finish the entranceway?"

"Yes Mr Hatch, I was trying to find you to see what my next job was."

He asked me to follow him, all the way down to the kitchen. The kitchen was disgusting- dirty pots and pans were all over the floor, along with what I guessed was supposed to be dinner but looked more like somebody had been very ill during the night. The washing bowl was piled high with plates and cutlery and half the food had almost certainly gone off.

I covered my nose as the stench made me stagger back. "What the f-"

"-Unfortunately we haven't had a chef or cleaner in a while, and what with myself and Reaver being too busy to clean, I suppose we just let the kitchen get… messy," Mr Hatch tried to clear himself a path to the shelves, with great difficulty, "If I cook and you clean, maybe neither of us will be shot today. Reaver expects his dinner promptly at seven O'clock and it is… coming to six now."

We wasted no time in getting the kitchen back to its former glory and presenting a decent enough meal for Reaver in an hour. I started with trying to find a bag for waste to throw out later, and spent a good amount of time sniffing jars and seeing which one would be poisonous if consumed. All throughout, Mr Hatch made space to prepare food, a mighty task indeed. It seemed every five minutes one of us slipped on an unusual liquid spilling out of a bag somewhere, until finally all the bags were gone, and all that was left was to properly clean the kitchen and put away equipment. The clock chimed for seven, and Reaver's food was ready, so we rushed up to the dining room to present the dinner.

Thankfully, Reaver was late. He waltzed in and sat down, inspecting everything on the table and mumbling to himself. He completely reeked of alcohol, and swayed in his seat with myself standing next to him, pouring him a drink. Not that he needed another one. Whilst he was inspecting, I stood with my heart in my throat, not daring myself to breathe. Finally, he spoke. "Well, it seems you have passed your first day, Miss Emily," he said, before adding under his breath but just audible enough, "And that's not all you passed." I felt a hand slap my rear, and it took all my willpower to not slap that arrogant, pissed man in the face. Instead, I turned an embarrassing shade of red, as always.

Luckily, after that Mr Hatch and I were dismissed, so I headed back down to the kitchen to finish off my tidying, seeming as otherwise I would just have to do it tomorrow. Cleaning the dishes also gave me time to think about certain things. I thought about Annabel, and how she would be doing right now. She seemed so distant. We used to be stuck like glue, but now we seemed to have drifted apart. She was a leader of a revolution, after all, and didn't have as much time on her hands. She was on her way to being Queen as well, and I was just a humble maid, whose only dream is to maybe sing and explore outside of Albion for a bit, before coming back and doing my job of being a maid. No wonder Ben liked her more than me.

And then there was Ben. No matter how much I protested, my mind kept wandering to him. His flirty grin, enchanting eyes and stunningly good humour made me want to swoon. Avo, I had it bad. I wondered if him and Page had made up from that argument, and were now starting to become friends. And then more than that. I shook my head; I was going insane.

"Arguing with yourself?" A voice called out from the door. Mr Hatch was there with a mop and bucket. "Reaver threw up in my room. Do you mind cleaning it for me? I mean I would myself but I've got a lot of Reaver's paperwork to do and-"

I cut him off. "It's fine, Mr Hatch. I don't mind." I took the mop and bucket off of him and followed him to his room. There were two major things I noticed: one, his room was a lot bigger than mine. And two, Reaver was passed out half-dressed lying on the bed, with sick on the floor.

Mr Hatch looked at the unconscious figure, before sitting at the desk and getting on with a mound of paperwork. "He does this about once a week, rather inconveniently."

We chatted whilst he wrote and I cleaned. "So how long have you worked for Reaver?" I asked.

His red hair bobbed as he talked. "About six months now, surprisingly. He tends to shoot people at three."

"Why did you sign up for the job then?"

"Why did you?" He retorted.

I stayed silent for a while, before I remembered the story Walter had told me. "I was fired from Bowerstone Castle when Princess Annabel left. I managed to live on my savings for a while, but then I started running low. I was desperate, and nowhere else was hiring." Mr Hatch seemed satisfied with my answer, as he continued to write, letting me continue to clean.

"I was an orphan," Mr Hatch said, now turning to look at me, "And after I left the orphanage in Industrial I was stuck on the streets, begging for coin. I saw posters advertising for workers at Lakeview Manor and thought, 'hey, what could be worse? Dying on the streets slow and painfully, or living comfortably until Reaver shoots me?' I signed up the very next day. I'm sorry, I tend to blab lot when I'm nervous-" He seemed to have thought about what he had just said and immediately shut up.

"Oooh, do I make you nervous, Mr Hatch?" I teased, and laughed it off. I couldn't see Mr Hatch's face anymore, as he had buried it in paperwork.

I had soon finished cleaning after Reaver, who was still passed out on the bed. He looked very odd and disturbing. "Would you like me to take him back to his room, Mr Hatch?" I asked.

"If you can carry him without my help, then go ahead."

It was quite a task to carry Reaver, especially up the stairs to his room, which Mr Hatch had thankfully given me directions to. It was fortunate that Reaver was out like a light, since it meant he didn't feel a thing every time I accidently dropped him. Okay, I did it on purpose once, for trying to hit on me at the Castle and the rear-slapping earlier that evening. I may have done it twice. Finally, we made it to his room, so I threw him onto his bed and using a wet towel mopped up the drool and sick on his face.

At this point, Reaver was stirring, so it was a good time to get the hell out of there, before he made me stay and do… things. Just thinking about it made my stomach heave. Or maybe that was just because of the stuff on his face was making me ill. I shrugged it off, and headed to my room for what I thought was a well-deserved rest.

I walked past the kitchen on my way to my room, and my stomach rumbled. I realised that I had completely forgotten to eat, so I quickly grabbed some leftovers and boiled two cups of tea- one for myself and one for Mr Hatch. It would be a good idea to keep him on my side. He was fast asleep by the desk, snoring softly. I smiled, put his tea on the desk and threw a blanket over him before departing to go to my room. Needless to say, I slept like a log.

~Six days later~

So it turned out that every week, Reaver held a secret society party for the rich and unclothed as an excuse for a large orgy. It's fun for them, not for the help. So that day was filled with Mr Hatch and I being worked to the bone to prepare food, drink and décor in time. I had just finished mopping and shining the marble floors, so I took a small break. I'd already been there almost a week, and hadn't heard any rebel's screams.

"Emily!" Mr Hatch called out. "I need to you to give these taste samples to Reaver, see which one he likes the most." He handed me a platter of mixed canapés, all beautifully decorated. I nodded and headed over to Reaver's room, where Reaver was avoiding the workers we had hired to put up the banners and set up the table for the nobles.

I knocked. "Enter," a voice from inside the door said. I walked in with the platter to see Reaver reading through some factory statements and receipts. I coughed politely to get his attention. "Ah, are these the food selections?"

"Yes," I replied quietly. After a week of trying very hard to stay away from him in his mansion, I loathed talking to him. "Mr Hatch has been experimenting and wanted to see which one you liked the most."

"I'll have a plate of you my dear," he said huskily, coming to my side to nibble my ear and cop a feel.

I clenched my fists trying not to punch him in the face and continue to kick him in the stomach until somebody restrained me. However instead, I decided to change to subject. "So could you- uh- taste the food please?"

This seemed to work, as he stopped trying to eat me and moved on to eat the food. In between mouthfuls, he said "I do hope you'll join us in our little after-party, a little minx like you would be a marvellous addition to our group… mmm…"

I stayed silent, and prayed to Avo that he didn't shoot me where I stood. Once he had tasted each one, he chose the lot for his party, and sent me away to get ready. Apparently, there was a new uniform on my bed, especially for these parties. I prayed to Avo that it wasn't a shorter skirt; it was hard enough hiding my pistol in what little material I had.

I headed down to the kitchen, where Mr Hatch was running around trying to cook, bake, fry, chop and simmer all at the same time. I could see one of the pans was about to set the food on fire, so I quickly pulled it out of the fire to cool for a while.

"Thanks," Mr Hatch said, "So which one did Reaver like the most?"

"Uh… he wants all of them."

There was a moment where Mr Hatch let the realisation of how much work he had to do sink in. Then there was a simple look of utter defeat, and he ambled his way to the cupboards, and pulled out all the ingredients. He seemed completely miserable.

"Don't worry Mr Hatch, I'll help," I said, before going over to the oven and checking on the dishes.

After all the food was cooked, I left Mr Hatch to it so I could get changed. The uniform was exactly where Reaver said it was- a dark red dress with short sleeves and a very short skirt, along with a tiny black apron to match and black stockings. I looked like a gothic whore in industrial, but I didn't have a choice. I pulled my hair into a tight ponytail with two strands teased out. I put a couple of hair pins in too, to keep stray hairs in place.

I heard the door for the front entrance ring, and I went to answer it. The party was about to begin.

"Oh Reaver, stop it!" I heard a playful voice say through the door, where the party was in full swing.

"Come on now my little minx…" was Reaver's reply. Honestly, it was enough to make somebody violently ill, including myself.

I slowly crept in, delivered the last platter of food and hurried out before Reaver noticed my existence. It was like a zoo inside, with every man and woman dancing, drinking, eating and generally having fun. All wore masks to hide their identities, which seemed rather pointless. I mean, they were all nobles that lived in Millfields; it wouldn't be hard to work out who was who. Reaver was in the middle of it all, with several men and women trying to get close and dance with him.

I could see one man, standing by the food table ignoring everyone apart from the lady beside him. Both looked like they would rather be anywhere else, and were grateful for the extra food I had put down. Neither of them were that fat, so they must exercise a lot. The man looked at me oddly and tilted his head, trying to think. I felt uncomfortable, so I excused myself and left.

I closed the doors behind me, and heaved a large sigh. I hoped I'd be able to find the rebels before the next one, so I didn't have to suffer through another one of those hideous things. But now was a very good time to search the manor to find Page's men, since I had no chores to do and nobody would catch me snooping. Reaver was very much occupied and Mr Hatch was once again doing Reaver's paperwork for him, so he'd be stuck in his room all night finishing it, by the looks of how high the unread pile was compared to the read pile when I came in to give him a cup of tea and saw it.

I decided to go to the west wing of the manor, as I hadn't seen much of that part so far and for good reason- this was where Reaver's bedroom and study were. Luckily, I was told by Mr Hatch that Reaver never slept in his room at these parties, since they usually stay in the dining room and ball room and not the west wing.

Reaver's room was very elegant, with intricate red swirled wallpaper. There was a fire which had just recently gone out in the fireplace, and he had a very comfortable looking four-poster bed, with the Reaver Industries insignia on the duvet. There were some luxury wardrobes and two large bookcases that I doubted were even touched, due to all the dust on them.

As I was scanning the dust coated books covers, I noticed something odd. All of the books hadn't been touched- apart from one, quite recently in fact, since there was no dust on it at all. The spine had no writing on it, so I pulled the book out to inspect it. There was a loud CRACK, and before I knew it the bookcase was moving to the right to reveal a secret passageway that was as elegant as Reaver's room. There were even more portraits of Reaver on the wall, and a chicken ran past my legs and out through the bookcase door to freedom. I smiled. I wish I could escape from this place like that chicken will.

Down the passageway, there were three doors. I opened the first one, which was truly horrific, with used condoms everywhere along with some of people's unmentionables to go with them. The bed in the middle of the room was hideously stained. I couldn't see any revolutionists, so I got the heck out and tried some other doors.

The second door was quite boring, only containing crates piled high to the wall. Inside was vintage wine, which must have cost a fortune. This, I presumed, was where Reaver kept the good stuff, only to be touched on special occasions. As I left, I slipped on some alcohol which was slowly leaking out of a crate, making a satisfyingly loud thud on the floor. "Ouch," I said, rubbing my rear where I had slipped.

"Hello? Is somebody there?"

I let out a yelp and hid, thinking the worst- one of Reaver's party guests had gone to his room, seen the passageway and heard me slip. I hid behind some crates peeking once, only to see that nobody was in the passageway.

The voice spoke again. "Look, we've been here two weeks, and we're starving. If you're going to keep us prisoner to get information, you should probably keep us alive."

Prisoner? I slowly stood up from where I was hiding and followed the voice to behind the third door. It was locked, so instead I peeked through the keyhole. I couldn't see much, but I could make out two figures tied up. I'd never tried picking locks, but how hard could it be?

Okay scratch that, very hard. I gave up using some pins in my hair and decided to just find some food and drink. There was a large gap under the door, so two small bottles of Reaver's finest managed to squeeze through, and after running down to the kitchen and sneaking some food I put that under as well. The men sounded grateful.

"Oh, thank you so much!"

"Yeah, thanks!"

"So… are you Page's men?" I asked carefully.

A deep voiced man answered. "…How did you know that? Did Reaver tell you?"

"No, Page did. I was sent here to find you, but weren't there meant to be five of you?"

The other one answered this time. He wasn't as deep voiced, and he sounded very serious. "There were… but not all of us made it. Reaver didn't need to keep all of us, so he killed the other three. I suppose he wants information so he can kiss up to Logan, but we haven't given him any. Oh, I'm Jack, by the way. Jack Timmins and this is Kidd Marsh."

They seemed like really nice guys. "I'm Emily. Are either of you hurt?"

"Both of us are, pretty badly at that. It's your usual broken ribs and fingers," replied Kidd.

"Okay, well don't worry; I'll get you out soon. In the meantime, I'll try and get food to you." They threw over the now empty bottles for me to hide. We said our goodbyes, and I hurried out, being sure to close doors and leave everything the way it was before I entered. I decided to go grab some food from the kitchen before going to sleep.

Mr Hatch was in the kitchen with a pen and paper. "Hello, Mr Hatch. What're you doing?"

"I'm seeing what things we need to stock up on, so I'll head into Bowerstone market tomorrow. Okay… yep, I think this is everything." The list was two pages long, with some of the things on the list I'd never even heard of.

I instantly thought of a plan. "If you want, Mr Hatch, I can get those things for you."

He smiled at me. "Really? You don't mind? I must admit I do have a lot of paperwork…"

I took the paper from him. "Good, so it's settled then!"

"All the items on there can be found-" He pointed to a column on the left "-In these places." We were very close by then, and then he suddenly very quickly stepped away. "Sorry! I, um, I should go…"

"Are you okay, Mr Hatch?"

"No, not really, but don't worry."

I put a hand on his arm. "But I do. You've been a good friend since I've been here, and I appreciate that, so you can talk to me. I've been told I'm a good listener."

"…Friend, huh?"

"Yes."

He looked into my eyes, and I thought he was about to say something, until he decided against it, and walked off leaving me alone in the kitchen. If only he had said what he wanted to then, things might have been different.

I was exhausted after the night of Reaver's party, and collapsed onto my bed, when I felt something hard on my back. I rolled over to see an envelope, with 'Emily' written on it. I hastily opened it, and saw on the back, 'I hope you appreciate how hard it was to get this to you!' I opened it and began reading.

'Emily,

We haven't heard from you, so I hope everything is OK. At least I know you're still alive (That's something). Reaver is quite the dog, so I hope he hasn't… tried anything.

It's been weird without you at the house, I had almost gotten used to a free maid. Needless to say, the house is once again the proud owner of sky-high dirty dishes. I've been busy, and you will be too when you get back! That is if you're still staying with me, I understand if you move into the resistance headquarters. But, it was be a sad day to see you go.

Page is an interesting character, though I haven't had the pleasure of pleasuring her. I don't know why I just told you that. Anyway, she's been on the edge, since you've gone. I think she liked one of the men that went on the mission, the way she goes on about this 'Kidd' person.

Annabel and Walter say hi, they've been helping more oppressed people of Bowerstone, and she seems to be doing alright. Annabel always wants to talk about you; I think she's very worried about you. We all are.

Come back safe, I miss we miss you.

Ben.'

~Authors Note~

YAY! Another one done! Hope you guys like it, It's a little ruder than usual, but that's just because it's Reaver ^_^

So, SCHOOL. It is a terrible time for writing, and does mean that I may have to update a bit less than usual, because I've got a TON of new classes along with finishing old ones, so life going to get very hectic. However DO NOT FEAR! I will try my very best to update, and I've got a plan for the next couple of chapters.

Thank you for reading, and please follow and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fable! However I do own Emily. Yay.