Crackling under the shallow moonlight, the weak luminescence of the sun slightly visible over the horizon dyeing the sky in a similarly shallow glow, going down and away. Dim in colour and low in mood. Similar to her own mood, bored with her legs slightly tucked in and elbows on her knees; with her palms under her chin, fingers sprawling over a third of her face. Lightly tapping with her index finger of peach purée on her cheek, feeling fatigued. Not helped by her sore bottom. Sitting on a damp log and staring at the wavy fire, dancing and churning, cackling infront of her. It's glow reflecting off her drowsy eyes, wet with a yawn.
Time passed slowly still watching the swirling flame. A torrent of smoke rising from the charing wood, displaced by the full bucket which rested ontop.
The muted colours of red, yellow and orange has receded from sight replaced by a soft pale from the moon's reflection. Spots of vibrant colour also starting to appear in the dark sky now that the blinding rays of the sun has retreated into the unknown. Filling the nightsky in a motley hue.
Fire's warmth on her worn skin coupled along with the cool drift of gust which smoothly glided around her body made her unable to resist another yawn. Once again wetting her brown eyes and lulling her to sleep.
But how could she sleep now? Dirty from maid-ly duties and caked with a thin layer of sweat and dead skin. To sleep with that and spread it across her cozy bed, how disgusting!
But that is exactly what the boiling metal bucket's for. A relaxing wash to end off the day. A relaxing wash which was coming soon signaled by the multitude of bubbles bursting from the water's surface. lightly splattering onto the burning wood below. With a small puff standing up and patting off the dirt from the back of her long skirt, leaving a small reside of mud and muck on her fingers and palm.
Wiping her hands together, grabbed a random branch nearby and began using the lengthy stick to disturb the fire, shifting aside the crackling wood to lessen the already dying flame before pulling out a clean cloth from a side pocket. Folding it neatly three times and waited a while before cautiously wrapping the bucket handle with her folded cloth. Occasionally nudging the handle with the cloth to quicken it's cooling
Heat quickly transferring through the floaty fabric, not long before it became too overbearing. Hastily carrying the bucket over only a few feet to be placed into another, larger holder of water. A wooden bucket which was already over half-way full with water which steamed, already warm from a previous pour. Cleverly using the wooden bucket's open top edge, Marie placed the metal container's side onto it, using it as leverage to pour the hot liquid into its new home. Careful not to droop it too low where the hot metal could reach her skin holding onto it's handle. A sensation which would most definitely make her tear up.
A horde of steam rising from the filled wood tub, diffused into the air as it reached higher, drowned out and erased like it was never there. Now that preparation was finished in its full boredom, it was time to start cleaning her grimy body but not before the worse part.
Taking off her cloths. Taking off the protective gear that defended her from the awful cold of night and much more, leaving her defenseless in the wilderness. At least she was protected by the tight covering of many, mostly opaque sheets which surrounded her from all sides. Made by Marie herself, but also with the help of the other maids. Though it was only used by Marie since the others would rather go to the comfort of home to clean themselves. But Marie was also at home yet the comfort wasn't exactly there.
Although now, with her witty thinking she has made some comfort from a few scrawny pillars of wood with a long rope which connected all the pillars at the top. with the placement of a large sheet which folded onto itself when thrown over the rope and when neatly spread fully across the rope created a barrier from peering eyes.
And going one step further, Marie would pull the sheets over the poles also, leaving no space for a clear view of her with the folded sheets overlapping, which unfortunately did leave a larger gap between another two pieces of wispy fabric. But it would face the high fence and trees that lined it so she didn't mind the small weakpoint. Plus there wasn't any windows nearby to see through the gap when she checked the placement for building the defenses. Just a wall of another building pass the brick fence.
Behind her small home and encircled by a wall of fabric, she would be able to calmly clean herself. More calmly if the poles weren't all wonky.
Since the storm, all the erect pillars were either flat in the mud or very close to touching the grass. Spending most of the evening sorting out the build, laboriously replanting them back into the softened mud which proved to be unexpectedly difficult with them leaning to fall down again, unable to firmly secure them in place. The rope being a seperate problem as parts of it were smothered with mud and off the wood poles.
A complete hassle to clean and in the end, a flimsy reconstruction was done with the sheets thrown over still muddy ropes. It was the best she could do currently and from the tiring task she felt satisfied.
Coming back with a wide plank of oak from the stone doorstep to her house, placed it near the steaming tub where the preparations was truely done. Taking off her shoes where her soles were coated and sunken in mud and leaving her ankle socks stuck inside, stood barefoot on the oak platform safe from the brown mush.
Undressing herself, shedding the layer which protected her. Chills rapidly touched upon her skin, sending tingles throughout her body. Placing her clothes into a seperate tub nearby which also resided a thick washing cloth and a set of bed wear, her simple pajamas.
Completely naked in the presence of the night's crispy breath the warmth of the heated water is evermore enticing. So she quickly wetted the wash cloth and began scrubbing. Dragging a handful of water along to the ground everytime she brought the cloth out, wasting the heated water but it was a luxury she could afford today. So much better than during the bellowing storm where Marie was forced to wipe herself after each day with cold water inside her bathroom, the outside plane too much as a wild and unruly environment.
Glistening water sliding down her skin reflecting the soft light from the irradiating moon. Sweat and exhaustion rubbed away with a toasty wipe. A battle of hot and cold fought on every surface of her body, a fight which warmth was currently winning, though not for long as the amount of steam was decreasing and water was turning tepid.
High up on the second story with streaks of white on his head came walking to the bathroom. After a busy day of writing more letters and preparing for the meet up of important business at his very home tomorrow followed by lounging around and eating with more lounging, he has grown quite starved of sleep.
Making his way through until a sight from out his cleared window caught his ghastly attention. His maid washing herself just like always. Up high on his mansion peering down on the unsuspecting Marie, only able to see as far down as her collarbone, his gaze blocked by the protective covers which caused a mental sigh of disappointment.
His great idea of a small bathroom that couldn't accommodate a small bathtub was futile in the end, not even able to secretly see her nice body even once like this. Though it wasn't the intention to begin with. He was just being a simple cheapskate when he was horribly coerced by the maids to build the crappy building. The maids suggested the idea when Marie was first gotten, a small reclusive girl who melted their hearts and when they heard she'll be living under the same roof as him, all joined together to present the jolly idea of Marie having her own home much to his dismay. Why build another shed when she can gladly sleep under my glorious home, in one of the rooms downstairs or better yet, under the stairs.
And even better yet, less money spent. It was a horrendous idea but the face she made when talking to him, sweating and undaring to meet his eyes was a truely new feeling. Her fidgeting infront of his large stature with her head low and being a full head smaller speaking in a shaky voice. The fear he smelt could be tasted on his dirty tongue, sweet and gratifying. Pleading for a home. Like a dumb lamb bowing in his dominance. Many people respect his power, his wealth and reach but to sense it so close and personal, expecially when he has her was more than the general feeling of superiority. He owned her, his vile leash is tight around her neck, thoughts making him internally drool like a repulsive dog. Pleasure to his mind and more so to his body.
Leering uncontrollably down, thoughs sticking to the reminiscent sight of her nice body. Well, less nice now.
As Marie finished her refreshing clean and began putting on her grey pajamas, so did he. His bladder in a pickle, ready to burst like an toddler.
Placing her socks into the tub of cloths, slid on her shoes and wobbled to the doorstep with tub in hand, mud latching onto her like living molten lava wishfully thinking to drag her down into its eviscerating depths. Fruitless in its cluches since Marie is a hardened warrior of smartness and tenacity. No elementary lava could pull her down, she has trod through eldritch horrors of mud and sticks and if you thought bubbling, spitting metal could hold her down, then you are undoubtedly wrong. As wrong as eating flourless cake alongside hardboiled eggs, mashed up into a revolting concoction. Marie shivering at the thought.
Leaving her dirty pumps on the stone doorstep and wearing her cheap slippers rid her hands of the tub. Leaving them as an obstacle by the door for anyone trying to enter her home. The rest of the maids have already done their day and should all probably be home right now so Marie has the rest of the evening and night all to her lonesome in happiness.
Flopping onto her bed back first, pulled up her pillow and began aggressively wiping her face on her treasured pillow with a muffled growl of a high-spirited puppy. With time in her hands and done with a bountiful day of work, she can catch up on her own desires. And today she felt like reading, her most common desire which was both simple and an enjoyable time wonderfully spent. Pulling out a drawer from her wardrobe, three selections appeared before her bright eyes. Three books she had borrowed from the local library, still a while before she needed to give them back.
All three have all been shortly read and one of them, a small book with a cover of vibrant colour and good illustrations of flowers and butterflies has been proven to be too difficult for her to follow or understand. Full of big words she didn't understand or haven't seen before and writen in a strange language which was unclear and unfollowable to her. A nasty, deceptive book which has forced her hand to buy with its pretty looks. Borrowing doesn't come in a free packet from the library.
Leaving only two true options. one of cheap action and thriller, journeying across vast rolling hills and green plains to cage a fierce horned beast or another of uncomplicated peace in a small garden decorated with a plethora of unique vegetation where their ripe juices and flesh would be blended together into a beautiful platter. Both Easier to reimagine with its simpler words.
Certain in her choice, excitement of a heart-beating chase has peeped her interest the most. Selecting the story of action, flipping past already read pages introducing the small party of three, a valorful Knight in gleening armour, a soft-hearted hunk in thick steel and a wise archer in sleek plates. Tasked with the arduous burden to locate and cage a noble's lost pet. A towering cat-like beast whom's sharp claws can cut down trees and long stout could chew through mail, ending in two pointy horns much like a rhinoceros.
slowly reading through each word and line hard at work to imagine the winding expanse the words wished to show her. Imagines dancing past her eyes and moving onto a suspenseful standoff against another group, who's motives and powers have yet to be revealed but certainly differ from the main team. mysterious and intriguing as the characters conflict grew, close to their objective.
Reaching a point of the two parties chasing after the horned beast, halting and obstructing the others movements. A lively fight which throbbed her beating heart, destruction and actions clear as day flashed after the other almost like she was there witnessing the scene. Until the rising need for something delectable roamed her wanting, growing stomach. Something tangy for the taste buds with a strong lasting flavour that should melt on her mouth. Not quite a chocolatey goodness but more of a sour explosion. A worthy pickled pickle would wholly fit her need.
Bouncing upright, she would be in and out in a flash, quick and swift like a striking owl unheard by anything. Standing in confidence, edged towards the door, getting close before the thought of looking at the clock popped into her mind. Reading nine something.
Out the door she went, back on with the muddied shoes and onwards through the path. Suddenly halting when a complication arrived to her head. Nine?
Their was something odd about that number. Sounding important yet unable to grasp the reason why. Paying no longer to the random thought, listening to her belly instead, closer to her destination she went but once again stopped when a nighing of horses latched onto her eardrums. Curious looking towards the noise where the front yard past the mansions front doors resided. Her angle perfect to clearly see past the extended brick wall. Noticed a arm-crossed coachman, finger tapping in impatience and sitting ontop a small shabby wagon.