Author's note: I just wanted to thank Playerpiano for their input on this fanfic. As I said in a review I left on their fanfic "The Seance", I have been reading fanfiction for a decent amount of time, but I'm also relatively new to writing fanfics that are posted on here and love their fanfics, so their input means alot to me. To Playerpiano: thanks alot, I will try to implement your advice, and I hope you enjoy the rest.
The fire crackled in the foyer as Maudeline sat at the top of the stairs. She had never sat there before. Not until now, for today marked the official fifth anniversary of that dreadful corpse bride incident. It was all so chaotic, she could only remember and strange light and the smell of unfamiliar smoke and the stench of rot and a few voice. Voices that echoed in her mind everytime she tried to fall asleep.
"Fetch me musket!"
" Fetch your own musket, I'm off!"
Those voices echoed in her mind as she recalled seeing her grandfather in law as nothing but bone, clothing, and his wig stand before them, asking if they had any spirits for him to consume. They echoed as she remembered running to a nearby room screaming, and they echoed as she remembered hearing her precious foyer be torn apart by those walking corpses. And on her daughter's wedding day, no less! Such a scandal tarnished her name for years to come. Even today, she still heard the other women gossip whenever she went out, causing her to close the doors of her manor, let nearly no one in, and on some days, not even let herself out. It was what was best, though. Best for her to just wait it out and let her family name fix itself. But then a though crossed her mind: would that incident truly be forgotten? Think about it. This was the first time the dead rose from thd grave. And it happened in her home. And some of those unholy corpses were her ancestors. And, worst of all, it directly involved her daughter and that blasted incompident, cowardly, clumsy, indecisive excuse for a son in law named Victor Van Dort. This would surely be recorded in historical documentation, and all her ties to it would be preserved for centuries.
"It will be DECADES before I can show myself again!" Maudeline shouted, her face gone pale at the prospect, "That is...if I can ever show myself again. But how likely is that?"
She suddenly stood up in a panic as her mind busied itself with the possibility.
"My name is tied to the incident in so many ways! And every tie will more than likely be recorded in history, for goodness sake! The kin of every lady in town will know what happened! And then, there's that bloody town crieAAAAAAA!"
That was all she managed before her one ankle suddenly gave way and she began tumbling down the stairs. She felt just like how she viewed her reputation: tumbling down with no way of stopping. Once she was a refined lady of high society. Now, she's the widow whose manor the corpse bride incident took place in, the Everglot who married her daughter to a fool, the member of the nobility who was financialy dependant on fish merchants...
...and right now, the mess at the bottom of the stairs with a searing pain in her right arm.
"Lady Everglot!" Hildegarde cried out, having rushed to the scene from the servants quarters upon hearing Maudeline stumble, "Are you alright? You didn't break anything did you? Does it hurt badly anywhere?"
"N-no, Hildegarde," Maudeline responded, "I... I merely just... lost my footing. I'm fi... AH!"
She clutched her right arm in pain and torment. It felt like it was just struck by a fire poker recently used for stoking the flames of a fireplace. And then she glanced down at it. Her elbow was going the wrong way. She tried to get up to her feet with whatever strength she had, only to be stopped by a similar pain in her left calf. She had to drag herself to the railings to stand in some way.
"Lady Everglot," Hildegarde finaly declared, "you very clearly have a broken arm and from what I can see, a possibly broken leg as well. You need to go to a doctor, and I won't take no for an answer if doing so means letting your bones heal wrong."
And with that Hildegarde walked over and did the unthinkable. Steadying herself, she put her arms around Maudeline, making sure she wouldn't feel any discomfort, and lifted her off the ground, carrying her like a groom would a bride.
Oh my... Maudeline thought to herself, her heart pounding in her chest, she's... so strong. I mean, of course she's not weak, but this... this is a strength I've never seen before. Should I say something? Should I even speak at all? Oh, what do I do?
"Oh my!" Hildegarde cried out, setting Maudeline down but still supporting her as she reached into her pocket to take out a hankerchief. "Take this, Lady Everglot."
She passed her the hankerchief, much to Maudeline's confusion. Why would she need a hankerchief? Then she felt sonething running down her lip: blood. She had gotten a nosebleed.
"Oh, uh, thank you, Hildegarde. I, um, I... appreciate the help. It... it means alot to me."
"No need to worry, Lady Everglot. Just doing my job."
But part of Maudeline felt like it was more than that. She felt as if... well, she didn't really know how she felt! And that was the problem. Everytime she was around Hildegarde, she felt a way she couldn't explain, a feeling she couldn't identify. And this made her panic everytime it came to her. She was supposed to be the proper lady of the house, after all! She was supposed to maintain a certain, stern demeanor no matter what with very few exceptions. But then she'd look into Hildegarde's eyes, those beautiful, intelligent, caring eyes, and all of it melted away. That was exactly what was happening now, but Maudeline couldn't look away. All she could do was stare at Hildegarde's eyes, the type that would emit a kind and understanding feeling faster than any vocal condolence, and the type that would put an unruly man who couldnt read the room in his place without saying a thing. Those weren't just the type of eyes Hildegarde had, it was the type of woman she was. But that still didn't explain why Maudeline felt like... this. Unless... no, it couldn't be. But she did feel like she could be herself around Hildegarde... but her true self was the woman she should be. Why would it be anything else? But either way, it just... vanished when Hildegarde was around, and the only other time she heard about such a thing happening was in her...
...secret stash of romance novels.
No, Maudeline thought to herself, no no no no no! I couldn't possibly... well... that couldn't be what I'm feeling around Hildegarde, right? There's no way those horid excuses for literature hold any truth to them. But then again, there's just something about her... but that doesn't necessarily mean anything! She's still just my maid, after all! She's just... doing a little extra! Yes, that's it. Hildegarde is just taking her job seriously, as she should. That's all it is.
But as Hildegarde carried her down the street, she couldn't help but feel it was more. At first she tried to ignore it, but the longer she was in Hildegarde's arms, the more she thought about this feeling. And the more she thought about this feeling, the more she thought about it being something more. And the more she thought about it being something more, the more she repeated one phrase in her mind.
It's anything but that.