alonimi
Keeping House [Closed] - Printable Version

+- alonimi (https://alonimi.net)
+-- Forum: Contemporary (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=71)
+--- Forum: Miscellaneous (https://alonimi.net/forumdisplay.php?fid=87)
+--- Thread: Keeping House [Closed] (/showthread.php?tid=690)

Pages: 1 2

Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 10-31-2016

[Image: 2yDLdMh.png]
megs && saronym


RE: Keeping House [Closed] - saronym - 10-31-2016

Elliot had been holed up in the dungeons for two weeks and six days.

Two weeks and six days Eden had enjoyed a flawless morning routine.

Eden’s morning went the same each day. More elegant than a prima ballerina practicing her rudiments. More rigid than a church ritual.

She’d been spoiling herself with a steam shower every morning, followed by thirty minutes of stretching and deep breathing exercises. Each breath garnered the inner peace she would horde away for later use when the tranquility was interrupted. Not if but when. Whenever he surfaced. And he would. Eventually. He always did.

Of late, Eden had time to enjoy exactly two cups of warm lemon water drank over forty-five minutes while she relished in a novel. Once upon a time, she would have devoured anything that hit the shelves. Hungry for whatever she could get her hands on. But she had lived long enough and read enough terrible fiction to patiently wait out the moment and see what lasted and what was forgotten. These days, she only read the classics.

She’d let her hair grow long that year and had taken to curling it into loose waves which were half pinned back with simple barrettes. The hair would stay away from her face while she worked without denying her a feminine hairstyle. For two weeks and six days Eden had expertly applied a sharp winged eyeliner with a steady, unwavering hand. No mistakes, no do-overs. Perfect on the first try. Almost unheard-of.

Late summer was upon Laine which really only meant that the weather went from occasional snowy cold to more frequently snowy cold. Eden marked the passage of the seasons two fold: in her attire and in the furnishings of the Wilder estate.

Outfits started from the bottom up. Feeling festive, she could justify kicking off the start of a new season by wearing the brand new lace up ankle boots with the moderate heel. There wasn’t quite a chill in the house so sweaters would still be early. She settled for tight black jeans and a sheer chiffon button up with elegant little polka dots and a collar that nearly kissed her chin. It was long sleeved but thin and breathable. There was no better summer-to-fall transitional outfit she could think of.

Normally Eden multi tasked during breakfast. Eating, planning, and giving instructions. That morning, nearly giddy with excitement to start planning the transition of the estate, she took her breakfast on the go. She had the chef whip up a simple breakfast sandwich. She meandered through the castle nibbling at breakfast sausage on toast in one hand and sipping at a coffee in the other hand while envisioning the changes to come. During the summer, she splurged on colors in the attempt to make the castle seem warm and, well, summer-like. Easier said than done.

Fall was easier. The furnishings would take a step more to the dressier side in preparation for the blow-out winter wonderland to come later. She had seen a number of charming decorative gourds in the stores and had many plans for these items. Whether such things tickled Elliot’s fancy or not, Eden didn’t know, but he had never stopped her from these endeavors in all the time she had worked for him. She hoped he’d notice the gourds.

When she was finished daydreaming, she gave the instructions for the day to the staff in her sharp, un-accommodating manner. Though she had been in a chipper mood, the staff under her would never know by the way she gave her orders. Instructions like knife lacerations. Linen maids jumping when she informed them the pillowcases on Lord Wilder’s bed were wrinkled when she checked them the day before. Unacceptable. Lazy. Simply won’t do. It didn’t matter that Elliot hadn’t seen it and he mightn’t have even noticed anyway. Eden was a stickler. When it came to Elliot she left nothing to chance.

The rest of the late morning Eden spent blissfully measuring rooms.

How many times over the years had she measured the rooms of the castle? She had a booklet with all of the dimensions, in addition to the blueprints for the structure. The distance between the walls never changed but Eden remeasured every year. Just so she could be sure the area rugs, the wall hangings, new furniture, would all fit. She wouldn’t waste the Duke’s money ordering rugs that would overwhelm a room. She would crawl over the floor measuring and then sit and sketch her ideas for the room and repeat the process until the whole estate was sketched in her book. She likely enjoyed the process of it more than she needed to re-measure. Needless to say she already had a metric fuckton of furnishings and decorations flagged for purchase and ready to order with one simple call. Once she confirmed they fit.

The staff knew never to disturb Eden when she was measuring. It was very serious business.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 11-01-2016

It had been three weeks and four days since the news of the royal family’s loss had swept across the Veridian Isles. The queen was thought to have been blessed with twins, but complications at birth meant it wasn’t so. Of the two, only a the girl had survived.

It had been three weeks exactly, since an intimate funeral was held for the child. A boy. Only the family and close friends had been permitted to attend. The media had been banned from the services, but pictures emerged regardless. As the family left the premises of the Hart family plot near the C.A.F base of operations, it was clear to see that they were stricken with the loss. Dressed in all black, the queen had been escorted to and from the procession by her husband, and her two sons. A small wrapped bundle held close to her chest.

Elliot had been in the dungeons for two weeks and six days. An interesting coincidence if anyone took the time to analyze it, and only if that someone was nuanced enough with the prince regent to know his dark preferences for necromancy and blood magic.

Desecration and grave-robbing had not been above the warlock to get what he wanted. He’d dug the child’s coffin up himself, in the cover of night and plucked the lifeless form from the silk lining. Decland had accompanied him, on direct orders that he couldn’t refuse. Though he very much wanted to refuse. He’d held the limp, half-decayed swath of blankets as his stomach turned and Elliot refilled the hole from which the body had emerged.

Decland would have rather done the digging, but Elliot seemed adamant about doing all of the labor. If that could say anything for his work ethic.

The guardsman was not to speak of what Elliot had done, therefore when the necromancer locked himself away in the dungeons, the Lynx returned to his duties, citing specific quotes. “I don’t know what he’s doing down there,” and “It’s best to leave him to himself.” Smiling all the while as if he’d not participated in something so vile.

The news of the child’s passing could not have come at a more opportune time for Elliot. Who was, in fact, the only sort of person who would find the death of an infant to be at all opportune. He’d been wanting to test the limit of his skills, but also had not been willing to waste them. The reagents and tools that went into resurrection were not something he could have his servants pick up at the market. And there was no better test subject than his young, fallen nephew, who could perhaps, be useful to him someday.

On the twentieth day since his descent into the dungeons, Elliot emerged and his footsteps were drowned by the screams of a child. He would never say specifically what had gone into meeting this particular goal. Never recount what had been spent and sacrificed. He cradled the child with one blood and dirt stained hand and pushed the other carelessly through dark locks gone limp with sweat and whatever he’d had left on his fingers. His suit had been reduced to slacks and a half-buttoned white shirt, that was teetering closer to dark brown.

He was not approached as he stalked towards his private chambers, flailing child wailing endlessly as he descended the halls. Tiny hands pushed forth from the cloths it was wrapped in, begging for the warmth and attention Elliot was incapable of providing. Another frustrated clawing of his own hands through his hair. He teeth ground together as he pulled open the door to his rooms.

“Eden!” he barked down the hall as he always did when he had need for her. It was enough, and he slammed the heavy doors behind him. Though the barrier did little to muffle the child’s screams.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - saronym - 11-01-2016

It was more than enough.

The sound of his voice cutting through her tranquility made her startle. The measuring tape she had precariously situated onto the corner of the wall and stretched carefully across the room was jarred with her movement. It came rushing back at her and snapped her fingers as it wound into the chamber.

Beads of red blood appeared on the knuckle of her index finger.

“Ouch!” She whispered to herself and sucked at the finger that had been whipped by the tape.

Eden rose and continued to worry at the minor scrape with her mouth. The servants had scattered at the sound of Elliot’s call. They knew to stay out of his way, especially after he’d been holed up in the dungeons.

The housekeeper knew the master well enough to retrieve a steaming cup of coffee to greet him with. She chose a stately matte black mug and filled it near to the brim with the fresh brew. Eden walked with a glide that didn’t disturb the liquid. The sound of her gait was marked by clipped clicks of her heels on the floors. In the summers she pulled up many of the rugs and left the floors bare. As the season turned cold, more and more linens, throw blankets, rugs, and wall tapestries, were added to seal in the heat of the castle. To make it seem as warm as possible.

Black and silver ears swiveled in curiosity at the sounds that met her as she approached Elliot’s chambers. Pathetic mewling? He better not have gotten some pet. Her body seemed to recognize the sound before her mind. Tail bristled at the cries of an...infant. Eden stopped dead in the hall with one last click of her heels. Without the additional noise she confirmed it was the screaming of an infant. No doubt about it. She picked up her pace without trying to sound hurried. He would only be encouraged if she seemed rushed or worried.

Eden opened the door just enough to slip inside and closed it tightly behind her. She had policed her ears to stand at attention and forced her tail to behave. It swayed coolly behind her head while she surveyed the situation.

The smell had hit her as soon as the door left the jam. Something metallic and something earthy. Indeed, blood and dirt were confirmed by the sight of the squirming child and her master who seemed as irked as ever. “Lord Wilder.” She greeted as she crossed the room to him.

“What a mess you’ve made.” As she made this observation she held out the cup of coffee for him with both hands. She didn’t offer to take the infant as he hadn’t yet offered to dump the thing on her. She knew it was coming. What he would have her do with the thing - that’s what she dreaded. She laced her fingers in front of her and willed herself to stare him in the eyes with the most neutral expression she could muster. “Where has your suit jacket gotten to?”

As if this were her most burning question.

Judgmental amber eyes made a pass over the expanse of half-exposed chest and the soiled shirt he wore before returning to his face. Her index was back to expressing blood again and Eden resisted the urge to wipe it away.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 11-01-2016

Elliot was standing in front of his desk when Eden entered. Chairs had been pushed to the side to allow him to lean against it, noisy bundle present in hand. He looked very collected for a man who was a mess and holding an unpleasant child. He watched her carefully through the fall of his mussed bangs. She was impeccable as ever he noted, and timely, which he appreciated. “Eden,” he replied, low and clipped as if it were a greeting.

He moved just close enough to pluck the coffee from her offering hands. Humming appreciatively as he took a sip. He decided not to address the state of himself. He knew she was only scolding him out of habit, having certainly seen him in a worse state on multiple occasions. Elliot rounded his desk, and let his eyes fall over her again. The child still squirmed in his grip, blankets had fallen from his head, revealing black ears with silver tips that flickered in it’s agitation. “You’re hair is longer,” he complimented over the rim of his mug. “I like the curl. It’s nice.”

He made pleasant conversation as if there was not an upset infant between them.

“I wouldn’t worry about that jacket.” Was all he needed to say to have her drop the subject. He honestly had no idea where the jacket had gotten to, but he had no doubt it was in a ruin somewhere. He set the cup down on the desk, and approached her, ignoring the judgmental set to her expression as he often did. He closed the distance between them, and his free hand briefly touched the top of her arm. His fingers trailed down the length of the limb until he was able to take her hand in his own. He still did not trade off the child to her.

“You’re bleeding,” he noted, lifting the knuckle to his mouth. He’d sensed the blood as soon as she entered the hall. The magic did that to him. All these years and he’d yet to have a taste of her. There was power in blood and hers could be useful to him. In the same way that anything was useful to him, but he didn’t waste the opportunity. He returned the hand to her in the form of simply removing it from his mouth, when he did so the wound had vanished.

After this, he did give the baby to her. It wasn’t so much a request that she take it. He simply held it out to her with the very strong impression that he would drop it if she didn’t make the move to take it.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - saronym - 11-01-2016

Eden waited patiently while Elliot tasted the coffee and looked over her. She was used to it. So she stood with straight-backed perfect posture and her eyes trained on his face while he evaluated her appearance. Lips that had pressed into a tight line curled at the edges. She bowed her head - the slightest of tilts - in acknowledgment of his comment.

“You flatter me. I am glad you like it, my Lord.” She thanked him graciously as if she had styled her hair for his preference. Under more peaceful circumstances, she would have been pleasantly surprised by his compliment. She would have made a mental note to continue styling herself this way for his benefit if she weren’t distracted by the child. The blankets fell away from the squirming thing revealing lynx ears. The tip of her tail twitched as her curiosity peaked. Whose child was this?

She tsked for the lost jacket looking more concerned for the missing and no doubt ravaged garment than the clearly stolen baby in Elliot’s arms. “I’m not sure it would be worth the stain remover for the rest of it either.” Her eyes passed over him again and she let out a longing sigh on behalf of the fine clothes he ruined so easily.

The topic changed suddenly to the state of her hand. A tiny scrape he’d apparently taken notice to. His touch was familiar but still sent an electric chill down her spine. Better to let him do as he pleased that resist. She easily acquiesced to him taking her hand. “It’s nothing. Just a scrape.” But he was apparently determined to fix it for her with warm lips on her fingers. The slight curl to her mouth seemed a semi-permanent fixture for the moment. Eden would have perhaps enjoyed the contact if not for the squealing child. The curiosity was killing her as was the pathetic crying but Eden was a patient woman and knew the delay in informing her was part of Elliot’s game.

Suddenly her hand was hers again. She examined the appendage, holding it in front of her like a woman examining a ring her lover had given her. Finding it in perfect condition she dropped her hand back in front of her just in time for the baby to be thrust at her.

Eden’s hands flew up and captured the child lest Elliot let it fall to the floor. He had held the child out as if it were a game of hot potato and it was her turn. Her hands brushed over his as she accepted the charge. A feeling of dread washed over her anew. This baby was her charge now. She could feel it. Just as she had been planning her exit from his service. Timely charge indeed.

Whether she had some motherly instinct or was just bent on cleaning Elliot’s messes, Eden cradled the child against her, instantly taken to fussing over the pathetic being. She petted her fingers over fine dark hair and held the child against her chest so she could pat its back and rub little circles into its spine soothingly. The child wasn’t so easily calmed but it stopped squirming as violently seeming to sense that Eden meant safety and warmth. It’s cries were more muffled against her shirt.

“I don’t recall you impregnating anyone, sir.” She said with a tone of suspicion. “What should I call it?” she shifted the child to peek under the wrappings. “Him.” She corrected as she fixed the blankets swaddling the child expertly as if she’d done it many times before. She returned to her previous task of comforting the upset boy, fingers passing over his hair again. “What am I to do with this child, Lord Wilder?”

She assumed keep it alive, but with Elliot assumptions were a dangerous thing. Better to let him express his will.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 11-02-2016

Elliot looked down at himself a Eden continued to complain about the state of his clothing. No doubt the remains of his once pristine outfit were in ruins. He shrugged, a noncommittal and lazy movement that, when paired with the careless wave of his hand seemed to suggest he did not care what happened to the articles when he removed them. Elliot could afford to be careless. Eden would pick him out a new suit, and then buy one to replace what had been lost, as she always did.

Now that the child was in her possession he walked back to the desk and fell into the chair behind it. It rolled backwards a few inches with his momentum and the distance allowed him to prop his feet up on dark stained mahogany. He held no concern for what the state of the aged wood would be when he was done treating it so poorly. Which said wonders for Elliot’s lack of concern for many things. He picked up his coffee again and sipped it slowly as he watched Eden maneuver with the child. His expression was difficult to read. Balancing between amused and annoyed.

“I’m creative,” he replied from behind his mug when she, in a roundabout way, commented on his predictable sex life. Eyes narrowed as she requested a name. Not menacingly, but in thought, and he leaned back in his chair, holding the mug with both hands looking as if the name had escaped him. The child’s pathetic noises were making it difficult for him to think. One hand pulled away from the mug to gesture in the infant’s direction. A simple silencing charm, and the sound immediately ceased. He returned to thinking, taking his time and watching Eden as he did so. He enjoyed testing her seemingly endless patience.

The warlock tried to drum up some memory of the headstone, or at the very least and article he had read. After two long minutes of this process, he snapped his fingers, index unfolding to point at Eden’s new ward triumphantly. “Ethan. It’s name is Ethan.”

He didn’t seem interested in referring to the child as an actual person, insofar it was still just a tool to him. One of the many things at his disposal. Another sip of coffee. “Don’t let it die?” He sounded like he was guessing. As if there were some trick to her question that he wasn’t grasping.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - saronym - 11-02-2016

As he so flippantly dismissed the pressing matter of ruined finery Eden’s lips pressed back into that judgmental line as the rest of her features fell neutral again. Amber eyes followed Elliot as he moved away and dropped his feet on recently refinished wood. One was left to assume Elliot simply liked messing things up. Eden blinked twice slowly and, if it were possible, her pursed lips went tighter. The child continued to cry against her chest forgotten in her concern for the antique wood her master had no care for.

She moved swiftly across the room. Her heels clicked angrily on bare floors as she moved behind his desk. Balancing the child in one hand, she lifted his feet to rescue the fine wood from the hard heels of his shoes and unceremoniously dropped them back on the floor.

“Take care. I just had this refinished last week.” She scolded him again brushing at the wood sending dried dirt that had been knocked from his shoes to the floor around her feet. Eden was the only one who could get away with being smart with Elliot. She was unsure if this was over the top, but she had decided to risk it, if only for the sake of the poor desk.

Moving back around the desk, Eden gracefully dropped into a chair across from him. She crossed her legs and lounged as if unperturbed by the crying child in her arms while Elliot racked his brains for the name. Suddenly the room went silent. “Oh!” Eden startled at the unexpected quiet. The child’s mouth still worked as if he were trying to produce the sounds of crying and nothing came out. Her eyes widened a touch in shock that Elliot would do such a thing.

Elliot had done many things much more shocking so her surprise was quickly replaced with that judgmental smirk. “The mean old Prince Regent has no patience for us now does he?” She murmured almost cooing into the ears of the still silently screaming child. His ears twitched upon the contact of her lips.

Eden gazed at Elliot over the rims of her useless black glasses. “Ethan what.” There was a warning in her voice. A Verdant Lynx boy named Ethan. The Queen and her husband had just lost a boy named Ethan. The coincidence was too great. She hoped that Lord Wilder wasn’t as creative as she feared he was.The horror of how this child came to be again would catch up with her later. The realization of grave robbing a dead infant didn’t register at the moment. Or perhaps she didn’t let it lest the horror play out on her face for Elliot to enjoy.

Eden glanced down at the child again when informed her job would be to keep it alive. “For how long, Lord Wilder?” For how long. Dread gripped her heart like a vice. She had almost secured another job. A peaceful job with a normal Lord and Lady. Now, if she left, this child would be subject to Elliot's devices.

And the boy was kind of cute. Almost adorable.

“Am I to understand you are instructing me to rear this child?”

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 11-02-2016

He was clearly caught off guard by the daring way she removed his feet from the desk. A widening of clear green eyes as he was thrust forward by his chair as it returned to a resting position. He held the coffee gingerly in one hand, away from himself. Threatened that it might spill down his already stained dress shirt. “Then get it refinished again,” he replied, tone halfway to a growl as he flipped hair out of his eyes with a toss of his head. He did not, however, risk putting his shoes back on the desk’s surface. He only moved his chair forward to sit at the desk properly as she dropped into a chair across from him. He set the quickly cooling coffee down, very pointedly putting it on a coaster. The lift of his brows seemed to ask ‘happy?’

“I have patience for many things.” A lie. And he certainly did not have the same patience as she. “A continuously screaming child is not one of them.” Elliot was not interested in her approcal or disapproval. The baby could have a voice once more when the warlock deemed it deserved one. He frowned, already displeased by the affection she was displaying for the child.

Unfortunately, he was just that creative, and appeared to have no qualms about expressing it. “Ethan... something... Hart,” he revealed with another lazy wave of his hand. “Something with an ‘A’ I think, I don’t fucking care.” He pretended to be disinterested, but he gauged her reaction, carefully. Not that he ever got one from Eden. Someday, maybe, she would reveal something on those pretty features outside of bedroom. Well, the bedroom and all the other places he chose to have her. Regardless, he would be there to catch her if she slipped.

“Until I say otherwise.” There was a command to his tone that revealed that this decision was final. He huffed. “I don't care what you do with it as long as you keep it alive.” ‘For now’ went without saying. If he’d decided he didn’t need it, he would simply shove the whole thing back into the hole he’d dug it up from.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - saronym - 11-02-2016

Eden didn’t acknowledge the little fit Elliot threw over the desk. She would get it re-finished again, if necessary, but the goal was to avoid it being necessary again for some time. Her eyebrows lifted in concert with his as she watched him take care to use a coaster. The ‘yes’ to his unspoken question. Or perhaps more of a ‘good boy’ kind of look. Perhaps she would have patted his head if she were within arms reach. She almost smirked at the thought of patting Elliot on the head like a pet. He wouldn’t like that at all. Not at all.

She scoffed delicately in the back of her throat at his pronouncement of patience. ‘Yeah right,’ she seemed to say.

“Ethan Alexander Hart?” Her voice rose in pitch evident of her shock. She had been preparing herself for that truth, but it seemed more unbelievable when he said it. “The Ethan Alexander Hart born to the 51st Verdescent Queen, Her Majesty Julianna Hart of House Darkwillow and her husband the Covenant of Allied Forces Lieutenant General Owen Hart? The Ethan Hart that didn’t survive past childbirth? Who was just buried? That Ethan Hart?” She used all of the titles of Elliot knowing he so hated them. She did it to remind him the presence of this particular child in their possession spelled the highest of treasons imaginable certainly punishable by death.

This was as close to panicked as Eden would get with Elliot. Just a series of more urgent questions spoken rapidly as she accepted the reality that he had resurrected a baby. The Queen’s baby. Of all babies.

Eden wasn’t sure whether she feared the legal consequences of being an accomplice to...whatever crimes Elliot had committed...kidnapping being one of them, or if she feared what Elliot would do to her if she betrayed him.

“You’ve made such a mess!” She lambasted him again. Her features turning angry this time, brows furrowing together over eyes that seemed darker under the shadow caused by her scowl. She held up the child as if to give it back to him. To reject her task.

“I can’t raise a silent baby. Fix him!” She was so emboldened by her anger with him that she felt she could make demands of him. That she, the housekeeper, could make demands of the Lord of the House. That she could make demands and neglect to address him properly.

The child squirmed helplessly, mouth working to produce sounds that magic wouldn't allow.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 11-02-2016

Elliot had turned his face away from her as her voice pitched higher. Even from his profile it was easy to see the way his expression darkened when she slung titles at him. He pushed himself out of his chair and it wheeled backwards with the force of his anger. He rounded the desk until he stood in front of her. Gaze dripping poison he leaned down, placing his hands on the arm of the chair she occupied. He brought his face level with hers. “I advise you watch your tone, Ms. Weatherfare.” Despite his words it was not a suggestion.

She tried to push the baby towards him and he stood straighter, avoiding the offer. He took Eden’s chin between his fingers, lifting her face higher though it was already raised to glare up at him. The angle of it was likely uncomfortable, but Elliot didn’t seem to care. “You will not speak of my sister or her husband again. Not to me, and most especially not to this child. He will know nothing of his family.” His thumb brushed across her bottom lip, unable to resist, before he released her chin; pushing it away from him.

He looked down his nose at her as he removed the cuff links from his sleeves. He dropped them onto the desk noisily, paying no mind to the child fidgeting in her hands. Mouth working soundlessly like something out of a silent movie. He had apparently found the end to her patience. The game was no longer fun.

He she been anyone else her reaction would have entertained him, and he would have preyed upon it. It was different with Eden, she was only fun when she was pretending to be aloof.

Fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, pulling them apart one by one, revealing the bloodstained skin underneath. He was tired. Of both the child and in general. “You will raise it. As is.” He untucked the shirt and pulled it off of his shoulders, throwing the garment to the floor. “You will remember your place, and you will address me properly.” He grew louder to punctuate the nerves she danced on. He was the one who made demands, and she was the one who followed them. She seemed to forget that. At this rate the both of them would end up in the hole he’d dug the child out of.

“You and that thing will leave my presence until I have need of you again!”

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - saronym - 11-02-2016

A servant with less training might have jumped when Elliot shoved his chair back but not Eden. She snapped her mouth shut and pressed her lips into that defiant thin line, her only movement, as he stalked towards her. She contested his gaze as he loomed over her and issued his warnings. She refused, for the moment, to look away but was ultimately forced to keep his gaze when he lifted her chin.

She swallowed and the action felt tense to her with her head tilted back to its breaking point. Her gaze wavered and she looked away as he forced her face away again. She ran her tongue briefly over her lower lip and where he’d touched her as if to taste his bitterness. She brought the lip into her mouth and worried at it with her top teeth while remaining silent for the rest of his tirade.

The child was brought back against her chest and she held it as if shielding the thing from Elliot. His tone of voice was doing nothing for soothing the child, to say the least. Standing slowly, she watched passively as he unbuttoned his shirt. Eden straightened her clothes and knelt down at his feet to retrieve what he had dropped to the floor. She folded the soiled fabric carefully over her forearm as if the garment was destined to be preserved and not discarded and rose again.

The lift of her boots brought her eye to eye with Elliot. The green seemed more electric when he was angry. She trained her gaze away from his eyes and stared at his mouth instead to watch the way it moved to punctuate his displeasure with her. A slight nod of her head to accept his orders. “Yes, of course, Lord Wilder. Forgive me, I spoke out of turn. It won’t happen again.” His anger and his position over her had forced her back into her professional role as his housekeeper.

Feeling that this had been enough to make nice after pushing him, Eden’s voice changed back to its normal timbre. “When did you last sleep, my Lord? You are tired. Let me run a bath for you.” As if their previous disagreement hadn’t existed.

It wasn’t a suggestion. She was telling him he needed to take a bath. Perhaps he would be more amenable to un-silencing the child when he was clean and rested.

Eden clutched the child against her and turned away from Elliot to disappear into his other rooms. The child’s needs would wait until Elliot’s were taken care of. She entered his bathroom adjoining where he slept and turned the tub to full blast on hot with a tiny mixture of cold to mitigate the heat. She shushed the child, who was obviously still upset though unable to vocalize it, with kisses to his forehead while she waited for the tub to fill. She poured mixture of sage, mint, and tea tree oils - her personal favorite - into the tub and set out two fluffy towels for Elliot.

She lingered in the bathroom taken with making a list of things that would be needed for the baby. Formula being the top. The child needed to be fed. Diapers. She’d have to set up a nursery. If Elliot wasn’t keen on undoing the spell he’d put on the child, she wouldn’t know when Ethan cried out for something at night or during the day for that matter. Eden tsked to herself and pressed her lips against the child’s forehead. “What have you done?” She whispered the question meant for no one against Ethan’s skin.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 11-12-2016

Elliot had chosen Eden because she was not afraid of him. Long ago, in the Darkwillow Manor someone had taught her that they way to survive was not to try. Silent and stone-faced, just as she had trained herself to be, he stared down at her and found himself ultimately unfulfilled. There were times, such as these, when his mood was a thundering storm that he didn't want her to be the stalwart ship in the darkness. He wanted her to be the drowning sailor beneath his wake.

He lorded over her as she knelt to pick up the shirt, coated in dirt and blood but still treating it with the same care she did with all of his belongings. The ones she was allowed to touch anyway. He only continued to frown as she apologized. It won’t happen again, she said. It mostly certainly would. At times her lack of fear made her bold. She toed a fine line between brave and insubordinate.

He watched her as she walked away, eyes tracing the sway of her curves in the dark denim. He rubbed his fingers together, remembering the feel of her skin on his on his. Remembering the way he’d left smears on her porcelain flesh, like bruises he often left other places. He could hear water running and he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky as to just have a tub filled with water. He rolled his eyes thinking about all the oils and salts that would permeate the water.

When he appeared in the bathroom, he’d removed the rest of his clothing. Wholly unperturbed by his own nakedness, he moved around Eden towards the extravagant tub that occupied a corner of the room. “Buy whatever you need for the child,” he said, knowing how her brain worked. He knew she was already formulating a list of supplies that was entirely too thorough for the basic instructions he had given her. Stepping into the tub, he sank down into the water until it leveled just beneath his nose. He looked petulant, glaring up at her from the tub. Clear water was instantly muddled by his entrance.

Elliot lifted his chin a touch, enough to bring his mouth out of the water. “Go to the library and find me the tome on Arthurian Transmutation,” he ordered, before sinking into the water again. He offered no other hints as to what he was looking for or where she would find it. He felt a fruitless task was fitting for her previous outbursts. He lifted a hand, directing it at the child, who immediately erupted into high pitched and colic shrieking. He sunk under the water, which did nothing to muffle the noise.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - saronym - 11-14-2016

Eden’s lips were ever pursed into that judgemental fine line even as her eyes swept slowly over Elliot’s body noting the grime that marred his muscled physique. She paused at his toned chest and traced downwards seeming to take her time in admiring - or judging - him. She was just as unabashed by his nakedness as he was. He made his way towards the tub and she watched the movement of his body. Suddenly she wondered if he undressed in front of other servants. Her heart increased sending a flush of heat sweeping over her as she reminded herself he was not hers to be jealous over. It simultaneously occurred to her that she was staring at him.

The movement of her gaze flicking back to his and a slight twitch to her tail was the only sign that she was embarrassed by her lack of control.

“I am humbled by your generosity, Lord Wilder.” She replied with a faux gracious lilt to her voice. He was only authorizing her because he knew she would do it anyway.

She lingered in the bathroom for several more moments unsure of what to do. Elliot in the bath, a squirming child in her arms, the house waiting to be measured. The peace of her morning had been washed away by his storm. She couldn’t prioritize her tasks.

Now he was giving her other instructions to locate some book for him. “Yes sir.” Her instinctive response when he gave her an order. Eden turned from him to attend to the task when the child’s shrieks filled the quiet. She glanced behind her at Elliot in the tub and then to the child in her arms. Two clicks of her heels towards the door and she turned full body around again.

“Uhm, Lord Wilder?” Her voice was timid, barely rising above the crying of the child. Eden was aware she had no clue as to where the book in question was. A few seconds of calculations and she decided it was best not to admit this fault to the choleric Elliot lest it set him off. “I - let me know if you need anything else.”

She whirled around again and walked stiff-backed from the bathroom. Sharp clicks of her heels punctuating the infant’s screaming. The door was closed behind her and her ears pinned back against her head as soon as she was hidden behind the wood. All the control she exhibited in front of him was gone as she moved quickly through his rooms to lay out clothes for him on the bed. Two options. A forest green silk pajama set. And a suit just the same as the one he’d destroyed. She sincerely hoped he picked the pajamas and went to bed.

That was her hint. Go to bed, Lord Wilder, you need to sleep.

Eden collected his ruined clothes from where Elliot had discarded them on the floor in a path to the bathroom and rushed from his chambers. She was glad he was occupied in the tub so that he wouldn’t see her trotting down the hall bearing a hysterical child and his destroyed suit with her hair falling from where it was swept back from her face and a hint of a bristle to her tail. The crying child was grating on her nerves as much as it had on Elliot's.

She took the child to the kitchens and frantically ordered the cook to prepare something for him. Something that would put him to sleep. She offered no explanations. Appearing as merely the harried housekeeper with an upset baby pleading with the chef to help her. She threw away Elliot’s clothes in the kitchen trash. A telling sign that the Lord of the house had something to do with the Miss Weatherfare’s state. It was always Lord Wilder who put her in her states.

A bottle was made up and without questioning where the apparatus came from or the contents, Eden fed the child as she rushed back towards her own rooms. Ethan resisted the feeding at first but was quickly placated by a taste of the mixture. He finished his breakfast - or lunch Eden had lost track of the day - by the time she made it to her own rooms. She tore the sheets, blankets, and pillows from her bed - anything that would risk smothering the child -and set the infant in the middle. It would have to do until she had a crib. He was yawning and his eyes were rolling in the back of his head. A good sign sleep was on the way.

Her own chambers weren’t far from Elliot’s library. The library that she had made a second home of over the years. Risking even leaving her own things lying about in there. It was easy enough for her to search for the book and intermittently run back to her room to check on the sleeping child. She found her own books more readily than she found the item Lord Wilder had demanded she locate.

Her search was systematic beginning with the stately desk he had for himself in the library. A studious man with so many desks. Maybe he had been recently studying the book and had left it there. An obvious place to start. Frustrated with Elliot, Eden took little care with his things on the desk. A book lay open turned to a page in the middle. She snapped it shut and examined the cover. Pushed aside papers nosily scanning his writing as she did so and opened drawers to peer inside. The book in question wasn’t among his things. She did find a copy of Madame Bovary in the French she’d been reading some months ago and had misplaced. There on his desk. She didn’t recall ever sitting there and reading and wondered if Elliot had found it somewhere and moved it out of spite. It wouldn’t surprise her. Growling in growing agitation she tossed the book to the sitting chair nearby so she could continue it later. It fell open spilling the strip of red velvet she had apparently decided to use as a bookmark to the carpet.

She dashed back to her rooms for a moment. Ethan slept on his back clutch, breathing deeply, ears twitching as he dreamed. She didn't even care what the chef had given the child so long as he stayed asleep for a while. And the concoction seemed promising so far.

Back in the library, Eden walked slowly along the bookcases eyes scanning quickly over the titles. She worried at her fingernails with her teeth as she searched. At this rate it could easily take the rest of her afternoon to find the book among Elliot’s impressive, or excessive, collection. He had so many titles some were piled in the corner of the room awaiting filing when new book cases arrived. Most of the books she didn’t recognize so she found it hard to be thorough and fast with her scanning. Not to mention that many of the books were old. Perhaps as old as she was and the titles were long since worn away.

Eden stomped her foot, a useless gesture on the plush carpet, and turned to restart the shelf she had glanced over. Slower this time, she cocked her head to read the titles printed on the spines more easily. Her ears were firmly pinned against her hair and her tail twitched rapidly around her boots. Her search fruitless save for finding several of her own novels mixed in among Elliot's dusty old tomes. Her fingers only left her mouth long enough to brush over the books she recognized. She would leave them there until he told her otherwise. Perhaps he hadn't even noticed.

RE: Keeping House [Closed] - megs - 11-26-2016

Elliot was content to sulk beneath the water until the screams of the child could no longer be heard. The need to breathe was a feature that he’d yet figured out how to avoid, and it nagged at him with burning lungs and spotted vision. He resurfaced with a deep inhale, slicking his hair back with aggressive passes of his hands. Wilder just wanted to brood, and that is what he did. He scrubbed at his skin with a bar of soft smelling soap, keeping the water warm with passive magics.

Eden was mad at him. The thought made him frown. He had wanted her to be impressed. Flushed and tanned skin was finally beginning to show as the layer of grime was washed away. He’d brought a child back from the dead and she had scolded him about it. He didn’t know why he was so concerned with opinion of one servant, which made him frown even deeper. When he was clean he left the tub and dried himself off with the towels she had left for him. Securing one around his waist he padded back into his chambers and wondered how her search for that book was going.

He doubted it was in the library.

He doubted he even had a copy on hand.

Elliot grinned, amused at the stupid game he was playing. He entertained the thought of Eden searching the library from top to bottom to retrieve what he’d requested as he dressed in silk boxers and the bottom half of the pajamas she’d laid out for him. He could perfectly imagine the bristle in her tail as she searched fruitlessly through stacks. He imagined the furrow of her brow and they way she chewed at her bottom lip when she was focused. These little thoughts of her gave way into larger thoughts of her as well as a growing arousal. Soon, he was plague with an erection that he had no intention of dealing with on his own.

He moved through the halls of the castle uninterrupted, fresh skin on display in his half state of dress. Elliot descended upon the library, and his presence was easily announced by the opening of large double doors. They closed behind him with an ominous sort of finality. Green eyes watched Eden as he took the steps into the lower landing in a way that suggested she was the prey. He picked up a stray book as he moved closer to her, flipping it open to stare at a random page disinterestedly.

He lazily leaned against the railing of the staircase, feigning boredom that would only last a moment. He let his eyes linger on the text, fighting the urge to look down at her.

“Have you found what I’ve asked for?”