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twistnet · 1 year

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comforting them after a bad day [ chicago fire ]

⋯ CHARACTERS ; matt casey, kelly severide, leslie shay, sylvie brett, stella kidd, brian ‘otis’ zvonecek, joe cruz, christoper herrmann, violet mikami, evan hawkins, greg grainger

⋯ MATT CASEY

when matt has experienced a bad day, he tends to get very quiet. sometimes even a little snippy whenever he’s asked if he’s alright. he recognizes that acting this way isn’t going to make his day any better, but it takes his a little bit. let him clam down, and once he’s done that, he’ll seek you out. quietly apologize for being snippy, and telling you that he’s just had a bad day. you can ask him how his day was -- he’ll tell you everything and at some point, slowly wraps his arms around you and leans his head atop your shoulder. inhaling your scent immediately calms him and he’s already starting to feel better

⋯ KELLY SEVERIDE

kelly tends to let everything build up. almost insisting he is fine and there’s nothing to truly worry about. and no matter how much you push, he’ll maintain the same story. until something just absolutely breaks him and everything that he’s kept bottled up for month finally comes pouring out. he’ll cry -- more of his eyes tearing up as he refuses to let them fall. but he practically falls into your grasp as you pull him into a hug. it’s really all he needs, just the comfort of having you near him as he talks about different things and lays his heart out on the table. card your fingers through his hair and just tell him that ‘it’s gonna be okay’. that’s all he needs for now

⋯ LESLIE SHAY

leslie, much like kelly, can be stubborn when it comes to talking about any bad days. however, she’s different as she’ll give one of the briefest overviews -- almost as if she’s giving a report, and then insist that she’s fine. all of her emotions comes out when she drinks, and you can tell she was anything but fine, considering the amount of drinks she’s already had. she’ll crumble into your arms, looking for your warmth as she begins to babble about her day and everything she was feeling. she’ll cling to you, but it’s truly something she needs as you’ve noticed her start to calm the longer and tighter you hold her

⋯ SYLVIE BRETT

sylvie will seek out comfort after a bad day. honestly, any type of comfort will help, but if given the option, she wants to spend her time cuddled into your side with her head resting either against your shoulder or chest. she doesn’t talk much about her day -- only just to tell you that it wasn’t one she would want to experience again before eventually falling asleep. she feels better with you, nothing you have to do aside from allowing her to cuddle up to you

⋯ STELLA KIDD

stella gets all quiet and short tempered. it almost takes you by surprise, until she makes a comment about her day. to which you ask her what she needs -- as she often wants different things depending on what had taken place. and once she makes her request, you’re dropping everything to do it. often, her go-to answer is to ask to be held in some way. honestly whichever way is comfortable for the two of you at the time.

⋯ BRIAN ‘OTIS’ ZVONECEK

brian is going to get super quiet after a bad day. meaning that whatever had taken place, must have really hit him hard. like most of the others, he will seek you out almost immediately. he needs comfort and wants to decompress from what he experienced for the day. kiss away his tears, hold him tight -- he’ll take literally any form of comfort so long as you are willing to give the time

⋯ JOE CRUZ

joe takes a lot of things to heart, and while he’s been able to keep himself from taking each thing he wasn’t able to do so personally, there are times in which he can’t help but feel that. especially after a bad day. he’ll seek you out, looking for some comfort as he gets the day off his chest. he’ll immediately wrap you up in his arms, tucking his face into your shoulder. he won’t talk about it right away, wanting to see you and tell himself that seeing you is better than any bad day he’s experienced. and while he’ll come clean about his day eventually, he’s just wanting to spend as much time with you as possible

⋯ CHRISTOPHER HERRMANN

christopher tends to get angry -- never directed towards one person, just as his frustration of the day grows, it gathers to a point where he may explode and accidentally take his anger out on the closest person. he realizes that mistake literally seconds later and calms down immediately. taking a few deep breaths before sitting down to tell you. he finds comfort in your touch and will show you by kissing your knuckles before apologizing. he’ll spend the night making it up to you, and in turn, it helps him settle in and finally gain some closure for the day

⋯ VIOLET MIKAMI

violet will put on a brave face and will power through the rest of her shift until she can have a moment to decompress. which is usually once she gets home and she can let her emotions out about her bad day. depending on the scale, there will be tears and she’ll hold onto you tightly as she lets it all out. she wants to be with you, and most likely won’t be getting up from her spot unless you manage to coax her to either eat or take a shower. otherwise, she’ll be content laying against you until she feels ready enough to detach herself form you

⋯ EVAN HAWKINS

if anything, evan grows more frustrated with himself. slowly begins to fall down the rabbit hole of ‘what ifs’. trying to think about what he could have done differently to change the course of the day he’s been having. he’s patience wears a little thinner and sometimes he can be a bit of a pain to have a conversation with. until he gets home and he crumbles, talking your ear off about how his day had been until he practically runs out of breath. he feels better afterward and can usually move past that day but it will always stick with him as he could have done better

⋯ GREG GRAINGER

greg tends grow quiet, almost closing in on himself and trying his best to get through the rest of his shift before going home. the second walks through the door, he’s immediately finding wherever you are in your shared home and latching onto you with already tear blurred eyes. he doesn’t really want to talk about it just yet, just needs to hear you talk gently to him and hold him close. he’’l eventually come clean about what took place, but he needs his own time to think through what had happened

blog navigation ⇢ [ one chicago masterlist ]

#chicago fire #chicago fire x reader #one chicago #one chicago x reader #matt casey x reader #kelly severide x reader #leslie shay x reader #sylvie brett x reader #stella kidd x reader #brian zvonecek x reader #joe cruz x reader #christopher herrmann x reader #violet mikami x reader #evan hawkins x reader #greg grainger x reader #gn!reader #twistnet #twistnet works 2023

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marilynsweet · 1 month

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FOUR LORDS: CONSEQUENCES

[Trigger Warnings: Domestic Violence, Assault, Abuse, Violence, Blood]

The air felt as still as if time had stopped. Rose’s breath came in shuddered gasps, pain throbbing in her head. She was only a little aware of the blood dripping from her nose, but her eyes fixated only on the face before her.

Todd had frozen at the voice behind him, at the hand that held his wrist. Slowly, he turned to face the invader instead of Rose.

Rose trailed her eyes upwards, past Todd. Relief was an understatement as her eyes met the pale, paper-white face and deep ruby eyes. Annabelle’s face held something of a contained rage and cold authority, hand locked tightly around Todd’s wrist. He tried to pry his wrist from her iron grip, but it quickly proved futile.

As Todd fully turned to face Annabelle, he released his hold on Rose’s shirt. Rose found herself sinking to the floor, back against the wall.

“Who do you think you are?” Todd snapped at Annabelle, now using his other hand to try and pull her hand off his wrist. “Let go of me!”

“You must be Todd,” Annabelle said, not even trying to hide the disgust in her voice. “Such a wonderful displeasure to meet you.”

Todd quickly whirled around to face Rose— as best as he could, anyway.

“You— rancid whore! You’ve— you’ve been hiding here?! You—“

Before he could continue to berate her, however, he was suddenly yanked harshly. He let out something of a yell as Annabelle practically threw him onto the ground, having violently twisted his wrist in the process. His back hit the cold floor with a harsh thud, knocking the wind from his chest. Rose’s relief shifted to horror, and she sat frozen, covering her mouth with her hand.

Annabelle coldly placed her foot on his chest, pinning him against the ground. He wheezed for breath as she pushed down, threatening to break his very ribcage in. She leaned down so she could look at his face better. Rose couldn’t see her face from this angle— only her back. She could, however, just barely make out Todd’s face. He looked enraged and hurt at the same time— likely in pain from how Lady Constance held him down. The maidens who had come to help Rose quickly took a few paces back, terror written clearly on their faces.

“You listen closely, boy.” Annabelle hissed, “You dare to set foot in my home, snap at me, and lay your hands on my maidens? Do you find ecstasy in the thrill of hunting down women who dare defy you? Do you enjoy hurting them?”

Todd thrashed, making a wild jab for Annabelle’s face. However, she coldly caught his wrist without so much as turning her head.

“Let go of me-! I’m— I was trying to bring my wife home—“

Annabelle leaned her head back and let out a frigid, mirthless laugh that left the room feeling as cold as ice. Rose shrunk against the ground, eyes wide as a chill went through her body.

“Is that why you beat her within an inch of her life?” Annabelle snapped, leaning down once more so her face was mere inches from his, her free hand forcefully grabbing him by the cheeks, “Is that why you bashed her head into a wall, cut her with a knife, and chased her across town not once— but twice? How pathetic!”

“She is my wife!” Todd snarled, pushing right back against Annabelle and attempting to lift himself. However, he was quickly shoved back down by Annabelle’s hands, his shoulders hitting the ground with a thud.

“Not anymore, she’s not,” Annabelle growled, grabbing him by the front of his shirt with a hand. “Your kind disgusts me.”

“Let go of me!”

Annabelle sharply pulled him to his feet, her fist clenching the front of his shirt tightly. He was an inch or two taller than Annabelle, yet looked sharply dwarfed by her prowess and anger. In fact, terror began to make its way across his face as she bared her fangs to him - sharp, pointed, with the capability to tear flesh from bone. Her red eyes gleamed like fresh blood, almost seeming to glow with her rage.

“Do you have any idea who you’re speaking to?” She hissed, her eyes narrowing. “Do you have any respect for your Lords?”

The reality was beginning to sink into Todd’s face, and the color began to drain from his cheeks.

“You disgust me,” Annabelle snapped again, suddenly shoving him hard against the wall. There was a sharp CRACK that erupted in the room, and Todd screamed out. “Men like you should suffer for the pain you put others through!”

Rose felt sick to her stomach. Todd’s head turned to look over at her, eyes wide and terrified.

“Rose! Dear, tell her to put me down!”

Rose choked on her words, tears dripping down her face. They stung her bruised cheeks, and she wiped her face with her sleeve. Blood smeared across the white silk.

“DON’T YOU SPEAK TO HER!” Annabelle roared, pushing him harder against the stone. His feet actually left the ground, the air breaking with more cracks and his wheezing breath. “How DARE her name leave your foul lips?! How DARE you beg her for help when you beat her within an inch of her life?! DISGUSTING waste of life you are!”

Todd gasped for breath, pushing at her arm in an attempt to free his breaking ribs.

Rose winced, gasping for her own air as blood clogged her throat from swallowing. She tried to blink away the tears, tried to think of something to say - but all she came up with was dead air.

Years of abuse had cultivated into this. He was finally facing an opponent who was bigger than him - who could wound him like he had wounded Rose, and then some. Rose felt sick - what was going to happen to him?

“I— can’t— breathe—!”

Todd’s voice choked out, thrashing against Annabelle’s grip. She narrowed her eyes at him, before abruptly releasing him. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for and gripping at his chest. He tried to crawl towards Rose, reaching a hand out to grab her ankle. However, he was abruptly yanked back by his ponytail, forcing a yell from him as Annabelle forced his head back. Rose scrambled away from him, wrapping her arms around herself.

She was suddenly aware of just how cold she was.

Annabelle pulled him again, forcing him away from Rose.

“You’ll never touch her again,” she hissed, stepping back and dragging him with her.

“Rose!”

Hearing her name again made her want to be sick. So many times he had spat her name, treated her like the scum of the earth, and now he begged for her help. He wanted her to pity him— to help him after the Hell he put her through, because he was forced to face the consequences of his actions.

“Rose!”

And yet his pleas still churned her stomach. The terror was written across his face - was it really regret, or was it fear of what the Lady might do?

“ROSE!”

Rose couldn’t answer him. All she could do was stare in horror as the Lady dragged him harshly across the floor. The heels of his boots scraped against the smooth floor, letting out a harsh squeal. The Maidens who had gathered quickly stepped back, giving Annabelle plenty of room to enter the depths of the Castle.

Todd’s screams of fear echoed through the halls long after he was gone from sight. Distantly, Rose could hear a door slamming - and a heavy thud, like a piece of wood slamming down.

The cellar door.

There was an eerie silence that followed. It was broken by the beating of Rose’s heart, and her quick breath that felt too loud. Soft sobs escaped from her, but she attempted to quiet them. Everything felt too loud.

She practically jumped out of her skin at the sudden knocking at the door, letting out a frightened yelp. The Maidens who had been watching the doorway in shock seemed to jump, too. One of them quickly dashed forward to check the door.

“Where’s Rose?”

Rose felt a flood of relief, grateful for a familiar voice. As if that were a trigger, the sobs began to hit harder, the tears spilling faster.

The Maidens quickly let Bayley in, who glanced around before landing her gaze on Rose. However, she didn’t have time to question it as Rose practically collapsed. Sniffling hurt with a bloody nose, and she choked on her own hiccups and blood. Bayley quickly went over to Rose, crouching down next to her and wrapping her up in a tight embrace.

“Oh, dear… it’s— i-it’s okay, let it out…”

Rose buried her face into Bayley’s chest, what little composure she had left shattering as she practically wailed into the soft silk.

The other Maidens glanced at each other, discomfort and uncertainty evident on their faces. They seemed, too, to be in shock. After a while, they finally began to trickle out of the room - maybe to find a mop for the mud, maybe to calm themselves.

Regardless of their reasons, Bayley held Rose tight, letting her sob her grievances into whimpers - no matter how long it took.

Rose was grateful that Bayley didn’t ask much once she finally was able to pull herself together. She helped her to her feet, holding her steady as her legs threatened to give way beneath her. After that, Bayley led her to one of the bathrooms to help her wash up.

The bathroom itself was a rectangular room. The floor was a cold, white stone tile, and there was only one window at the end, too high to quite see through directly. To the left were stalls, and to the right were a few sinks. It was small, as there were a few bathrooms scattered about the Castle for Maiden’s usage. Past the sinks and around the corner, hidden by a curtain, were the baths. Though, Rose didn’t go that far. Instead, she and Bayley stopped next to one of the sinks.

Bayley sat Rose down on a small stool, which was usually used to climb up to the shelf for towels above the sinks. She then took one of said towels and wetted it under a faucet.

“Here…”

She gently lifted Rose’s head, having rung the towel out so it was merely damp. Rose winced when it made contact with her now swollen cheek, and she shut her eyes tight.

“Shh-shh-shh, it’s alright— I know it hurts…” Bayley murmured quietly, though kept the pressure gentle. “It’s going to be okay…”

With a gentle hand, Bayley began to wipe the blood and mud off of Rose’s face. Her bloody nose had halted, at least, so there was no longer a fresh stream running down her face. She did her best to brush out the mud in her hair, too.

“Stay here— I’ll grab you some new clothes, and then you can bathe, alright? Don’t move.”

Rose only gave a small nod, to which Bayley gently brushed her shoulder with a hand before exiting the bathroom.

She was left alone in the room. Her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and her heels rested on the rung of the stool’s support to the legs. Only after a few moments did she look over to the mirror beside her, although the movement was slow.

Rose grimaced at her own appearance. Her cheek was swollen— likely going to bruise, as was her eye and a cut on her head. How he had managed to cut her, she didn’t know… it could have been any manner of things at this rate. Her shirt and cloak were caked in mud, now starting to dry and crack. It was stuck in her hair, since Bayley couldn’t pull all of it out with just a towel.

Everything ached - from her throbbing head to exhausted legs. Luckily, though, she wasn’t bleeding anymore. Now that she was finally able to sit, the aches were starting to make themselves more known. There was a stinging on her back from being slammed into the wall of the bakery, and a red mark around her neck where her cloak had choked her.

The silence pressed in the bathroom for a long time, Rose doing her best to avoid looking too hard in the mirror. However, after what felt like hours, the door finally opened again.

Bayley stepped into the room, but she wasn’t alone. Rose was a bit surprised to see Dr. Raven Quinn-Casey, her white hair tied back into a messy bun. With her, she carried a satchel.

“Oh, dear…” she said quietly to herself, and Rose flinched at the hint of worry in her voice.

“Rose, you remember the good doctor,” Bayley said, approaching Rose and tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder. “She was called to take a look at you.”

Bayley offered a small, reassuring smile to Rose, though Rose couldn’t help but notice a hint of worry in her vibrant green eyes. Raven approached Rose.

“May I look?”

Bayley stepped back to give her room, and Rose gave a small nod. She braced herself against Raven’s touch, but was pleasantly surprised as she gently took Rose’s chin with her hand. She tilted her head ever so slightly to each side, taking special care to avoid directly touching the wounds.

Raven hummed, releasing Rose’s head after a few moments.

“Have you been feeling dizzy at all? Exhausted— like you might pass out?”

Rose slowly shook her head, biting her cheek. She felt… cold.

“Hm… hold still.”

Raven reached into her satchel and pulled out a small light. With it, she examined Rose’s eyes and pupils - testing her reaction to the light. She had her follow the light, and then her fingers.

“Do you feel nauseous?”

Rose shook her head.

“You said you weren’t dizzy— any difficulty walking?”

“N-Not— not really,” Rose murmured quietly.

“No slurred speech— that’s good.”

Raven clicked the light off before tucking it back inside her satchel.

“I don’t think you’ve incurred a concussion, but I’d still put some ice on those bruises and on your head and take some time to rest.”

Rose felt Bayley’s hand on her shoulder noticeably lessen its grip, as if she were relieved.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“My pleasure. If anything gets worse, I want to be the first person to know.”

“Of course.”

Raven was quiet, glancing at Rose for a few moments longer until she turned to Bayley.

“Where is the Lady?” She asked.

Bayley stiffened, and Rose felt her grip tighten on her shoulder once more. Rose grit her teeth and shut her eyes, turning her head downward.

“…Busy,” Bayley choked out after a few moments.

There was a pause of silence, before Rose glanced up at Raven once more. She was nodding.

“Alright,” was all she said, until she turned back to Rose. “Take care.”

With that, Raven finally turned, walking out of the bathroom. She closed the door behind her when she left. Her footsteps echoed in the hall, walking away from the door, until they finally disappeared.

Silence pressed on for a long time. Rose let out a long exhale, rubbing her arm nervously. Bayley finally let go of her, and it was only then that Rose noticed how hard Bayley had been squeezing her.

“Come on,” was all Bayley murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

It took a long time to finally rinse all of the mud and blood off of her weary body. Bayley had brought her a fresh set of clothes and had taken her boots while Rose rinsed herself off, and Rose could hear her in one of the other bathtubs, trying to rinse the mud off the outside of her boots.

When Bayley helped her dry off, Rose caught another glance of herself in the mirror, she was relieved to see she looked a little less swollen in the cheek. It wasn’t much, and it was starting to turn a dark purple, but she figured that to be a part of the healing. At least she wasn’t covered in a thick layer of mud and blood anymore.

Bayley led her way to Rose’s room. Along the way, several Maidens sent a few worried glances in her direction, whispering amongst themselves. Rose kept her gaze downcast, choosing to ignore them.

“I’m going to grab you some ice, alright?” Bayley whispered once they had reached her room. “Wait here.”

Rose didn’t answer, taking a few steps into her bedroom. The latch on the window was ever-present in the rattling, and the room felt colder than ever. She heard Bayley’s footsteps disappear down the hall, swiftly— like she was worried to leave Rose alone for too long.

Rose sat on her bed, anxiously fiddling with her hands in her lap. Her body ached, and part of her only wanted to sleep. She was still reeling from the day’s events, however, and she doubted she could sleep if she tried.

She glanced over to her nightstand, swallowing hard. Tentatively, she reached a hand out, pulling open the drawer. Inside, as present as ever, lie her engagement ring.

Rose stared for a long time, a sick feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. She let out a huff, brushing her hair back before taking the ring and placing it in her palm. It was dull, and covered in dust. She softly blew on it, trying to scatter the dust. However, it only resulted in her accidentally inhaling a bit of it, to which she coughed and waved at the air.

She stared at the ring in her palm, contemplating. Guilt crawled its way over her shoulders, washing over her like an even colder wave than the faint whisp of the wind outside. It wasn’t even dark— the sun was only midway down in the sky, which was washed with oranges, pinks, and a faint bit of purple.

She suddenly found herself feeling desperate to be rid of the ring. While it may have just been her imagination, all she could think about was how vile it felt to sit in her palm— how desperately she needed it to disappear.

Abruptly, she stood up. She shoved it into her pocket, before brushing her hands on her pants. There wasn’t anything on them, but… she felt dirtied. Before she could quite leave, cloak in hand, her bedroom door opened again. Bayley stood, bucket of ice in her hands.

There was a moment of surprise between the two, as if Bayley had expected her to be sitting. She probably had, Rose supposed, given her sorry state.

Rose swallowed.

“T-Thank you,” she said hoarsely, surprised at the tremor in her own voice.

Bayley hesitated, glancing over Rose.

“Where are you going?”

Rose didn’t want to answer. Her throat felt too tight, even as she swallowed again - like her very windpipe was closed.

“Out,” she finally managed after a few moments.

Bayley narrowed her eyes.

“I’m going with you.”

“Bayley—“

“The doctor said you should be resting, and I won’t patronize you, but I’ll be damned before I let you leave and collapse somewhere for the wolves to find you. The woods are dangerous alone—“

“You—You t-travel them e-every day!”

“That’s different!”

Bayley huffed, setting the ice down next to Rose’s wardrobe.

“I won’t push, but I can’t let you go alone. Not… not again.”

Rose swallowed again. Bayley had been in the bakery when the chase had begun… and she could see the hollow guilt and gnawing shame clawing behind those vibrant green eyes, past that scarred bridge of her nose…

She sighed, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself.

“G-Grab your— Grab your c-cloak, and m-meet me by the—“

She hesitated.

“…Servants’ exit,” she decided. Bayley nodded, eyes lingering on Rose’s trembling hands struggling with her brooch. Before she left down the hall, she gently took Rose’s hands and fastened the brooch on her cloak, pinning it in place. With that, she was gone, her steps echoing on the immaculate tile and down the hollow staircase.

Rose followed a few moments after, her steps slow. Her body ached, but she ignored it as best she could. Despite the waning sun, the trek before her, she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling of disgust— of filth that still crept over her very soul, regardless of how they’d rinsed her hair three times to rid of all of the mud and blood.

She descended the stairs, gripping the railing tightly until she reached the ground floor. She heard a soft murmur from the break room nearby, and took a few steps to peer through the door.

Bayley had the ornate white phone up to her ear, connected to the receiver by a short cord. It sat on the table by the radio, to be used for emergencies. And, Rose supposed, to contact outsiders who even had phones.

From the sound of it, Douglas did.

Bayley’s back was turned to Rose, and she was saying:

“I’m going to be a little late— some things happened at work, but I shouldn’t be too long, maybe an hour or two at most.”

A short pause as she listened, twirling the phone cord around her index finger.

“I’ll tell you more when I can— I—“

It was at that moment she turned, noticing Rose. Pink flushed her face, and she untwisted the cord.

“I have to go— I love you,” she said quickly, putting the phone back on its stand a little too swiftly to be comfortable.

“Douglas?” Rose asked quietly when Bayley approached, pulling her cloak tighter around herself.

Bayley nodded.

“I figured it polite to tell him I might be a little late for dinner… so he wasn’t sitting there waiting and wondering where I am,” she said quietly.

Rose nodded, and Bayley followed as she walked out of the room and towards the servants’ exit. There, they were lucky to find no resistance as Bayley pushed it open. Cold wind blasted their faces, as if the night itself brought icy winds and colder temperature— like it, too, was aware of the horrors that had occurred today.

However, there was a stark smell against the frigid cold fogging their breath and disrupting their senses. A smell Rose only encountered when passing by the tavern.

Cigarette smoke.

Leaning against the wall outside was a cloaked figure, shivering against the cold and holding a silver lighter in her hands. Her hands shook violently, as she struggled to light a cigarette perched between her teeth. It was hard to make out in the faint light of the small, flickering flame, but Rose could have sworn that her hands were dark— as if she had something on them.

She perked when Rose and Bayley exited, looking over to them. Bayley breathed something of a sigh of relief.

“Reese,” she said quietly, “Thank goodness, a friendly face.”

The woman stood upright, glancing between the two as she took a puff from her cigarette. She blew the smoke out to the wind.

“Where are you two headed?” The woman asked. She had deep, ocean blue eyes and brown hair, tied back into a short ponytail. She was taller than the both of them by at least half a foot. Rose could make out faint freckles on her cheeks. However, her eyes kept glancing to her hands.

“Oh— O—Out,” Rose managed to say quietly, swallowing hard. Bayley gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Town,” Bayley said, before turning to Rose with a worried glance, as if to ask That’s where, right?

Rose gave a short nod, her eyes flicking back to the tall woman. Reese… the name flickered back to her. She’d seen her at one of the Lady’s parties, sitting at a table with Jada and Lilith, dressed in a rich blue gown with a low back. Reese Anderson, the eldest Head Maiden of the Lady’s most trusted.

Reese coughed, tapping the end of her cigarette and letting the ashes flutter into the wind. Rose nearly wrinkled her nose in distaste, but thought it impolite and tried to maintain a neutral demeanor.

“Yeah… I figured. Given today’s… events… I won’t hold you guys— probably wanted to get something and was rudely interrupted.”

Reese glanced at Rose, and seemed to swallow hard. Under the cover of the dark clouds and frigid wind, it was hard to see her expression. She lifted her lighter again, that soft orange flame sputtering against the hard wind. Reese raised her hand to shield the tiny flame, struggling to relight her cigarette.

However, that small orange flame provided just enough light to illuminate her hands, and Rose’s heart sunk into the deepest pits of her roiling stomach.

Her hands were covered in deep red crimson, dried and cracked against the icy winds.

Blood. It stained her white sleeves, her vest, a splotch on her cheek, the very lighter in her hands.

Rose felt sick, resisting the urge to vomit right then and there. She swallowed hard, a chill sinking through her deeper than any wind could blow.

Bayley tightened her grip, as if she could sense the sudden chill down Rose’s spine.

“We’d— better get going. We won’t be long, I promise.”

Reese nodded, taking another dreg from her cigarette. She leaned her head back as she let it go, her hood falling from her head.

“I trust that you guys won’t take long. It’s freezing— wouldn’t put it past the shops to close early tonight with the cold. Just don’t be long— Lady Constance will have my head if something else goes wrong today.”

Bayley nodded.

“Thank you,” she said, quickly steering Rose towards the path that descended around the Castle.

Rose didn’t hear Reese’s reply over the howling wind and the roaring in her own ears. She was shaking so badly she thought her legs might give out, though Bayley’s hand against her back was an anchor she clung to with every bit of strength she could muster.

Blood. It had been blood.

And Reese didn’t have an injury on her.

Somehow, Rose managed to make it to town. Bayley had pulled her hood over her head to try and block out the cold, their breaths fogging the air before them. Luckily, the lamps were still lit. They walked down the Main Street, but did not encounter many people. Those that were were bundled up against the cold, scarves pulled over noses and hats pulled hard over their ears.

Rose stepped into leading the way, trying to avoid the occasional glance her way. She felt sick when she saw the Bakery, as if the pain in her stomach wasn’t bad enough. She quickly averted her eyes and took a left down the short street that led around the corner. She wanted to be quick— wanted this day to be done and over with, to crawl into bed and forget its events and all they entailed. She might have, had Bayley not kept her grounded.

Finally, she stepped up a few steps and opened the door. A bell sounded, the sound bright and all-too-loud as the wind was muffled upon stepping inside. The hard wood floor was met by the soft clunk, clunk of their boots as Bayley shut the door behind them.

It was a quaint store, with shelves stocked full of items for sale on all walls and throughout the room, except for those behind the cash counter. Behind the counter stood two men - one a tall, blonde man with hair she could only describe as fluffy, and a dark blue jacket pulled over an off-white sweater; the other was slightly taller than the other, with light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing a flannel shirt, and with freckles dotting his cheeks. In stark contrast behind the two men was a rack of guns against the wall - mostly rifles and pistols, used by some of the men in town for hunting during springtime. A few sharpened axes hung as well, among other various tools, and next to that rack was a door that could only lead into the back storage and offices. Boxes of ammo lined the shelf beneath the gun rack.

Rose noticed Bayley give the brown-haired man a short, courteous nod— a greeting, as if she recognized him. Rose, despite living here her entire life, had never set foot in this store.

Bayley approached the counter, Rose taking a few seconds to trail behind and swallowing hard. Bayley dug into her pockets, pulling out a few marks and setting them on the counter before the blonde man.

“Two packs of cigarettes— regular ones are fine.”

The blonde man nodded, ducking under the counter to look. From the other side, Rose was snapped from her watching by the other man clearing his throat.

“How may I help you?”

Rose shot Bayley another glance. The other woman was pointedly taking her time in recounting her marks, the blonde man procuring two boxes of cigarettes from below the counter at last. Her eyes shot back to the man in front of her.

“I—“

Her throat felt tight, and she choked on her words. She fidgeted with the edge of her hood, not realizing it had fallen from her head until then. Bayley’s, too, her hair tied back with that stark, pure white ribbon in a bow.

Rose finally swallowed hard, reaching into her pocket and taking the engagement ring in her trembling fingers. As it sat in her shaking palm, a flurry of memories flashed before her eyes— a hand raised high to strike, the curl of lip revealing disdain and all-too-white teeth, eyes wide in terror and the screech of heels on tile—

She slammed the ring on the counter a little too harshly, so that even she was stunned by the fierceness with which she left it. Her heart thundered against her ribs, and every breath came with a shudder down her spine.

The blonde man had quickly turned his gaze as Rose finally removed her hand from the counter, the ring left in its wake. His gaze darted between his companion and Rose’s face, but he said nothing, even as his shoulders had visibly tensed. Bayley was stiff, Rose noticed out of the corner of her eye, her hand paused in the process of picking up the cigarettes from the counter.

The brown-haired man was unphased, however, his piercing green eyes following her hand to the ring sitting on his store counter. He was about a foot taller than her, yet she felt further dwarfed by his gaze and the careful scrutiny upon which he examined the ring.

He took it, examining it between his forefinger and thumb.

“How—However m-much you’ll give— you’ll give me f-for that,” Rose stammered, though tried as hard as she could to halt the waver in her voice and closing of her throat, “I-I’ll— I’ll take whatever— whatever you g-give me.”

The blonde man, too, looked over at the ring curiously, pinned between his partner’s fingers and shining in the lantern light. Rose’s gaze shot away, unable to keep looking at it.

She heard the blonde man murmur something— only evident in that she hadn’t heard his voice yet, and it was not the brown-haired man’s nor Bayley’s— and it sounded like he was scrutinizing the ring as well. Though, he did not raise his voice, and did not inquire further.

Although, his eyes shifted from the ring down to her face. Something like concern flashed across his eyes, and his lips pressed together tightly.

It was only then that Rose remembered that her face was bruised, and that a cut lay bandaged on her head. She swallowed hard, again beginning to fidget with her hood. Something like a wave of cold washed over her, only warmed by a sudden small presence against her back.

Bayley had again rested a hand there, a comforting presence.

“This looks like the work of Constance,” the brown-haired man said idly, turning the ring over again in the light to examine the gemstone embedded in it, “someone must’ve paid a pretty penny for it.”

Rose swallowed. Despite Bayley’s hand, she shivered.

“I—I’ve no— no further need of-of it, sir.”

Silence reigned again, until the man put the ring back down on the counter, seemingly satisfied with its quality.

“I’ll give you six and a half—“

“Done.”

Rose didn’t even let him get the full word out. She needed the ring gone - somewhere it couldn’t haunt her every day, where she might finally be rid of the damned thing. Gone, forgotten, maybe given to some other pretty woman.

“…thousand.”

She did perk at the final number, though. That much? For a ring? Dear Lords, what if she ever grew out of it?

“I-I’ll— take it, th-thank you.”

The blonde man took one last look at Rose before nodding to his partner and ducking into the back room.

There was a dreadful, uncomfortable silence in which Rose found herself clinging to the lifeline of Bayley’s hand while she waited for the blonde man to return. It couldn’t have been more than a few moments, but afterwards he returned with many marks - bundled into the appropriate amounts of cash. Six and a half stacks.

She was half expecting the men to ask why she would be rid of a House Constance ring, but neither of them did. Instead, she caught the blonde man glancing again at the brown-haired one - like some unspoken agreement between the two of them he was just itching to speak as he handed Rose the money.

“Th-thank you.”

She couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to get out of there - the air was so stifling with that ring, the discomfort between the four of them.

Rose took the cash as soon as it was set on the counter, offered a quick courtesy, and left the store swiftly. Bayley lagged behind a bit, apologizing to the men for Rose’s behavior, before taking her turn to follow after her companion.

“Rose!”

Rose didn’t slow down, her pace quickening up the frigid muddy path. The distant sight of torches on the castle wall made her want to run faster - to hide from what she had just done, hide from all of it - crawl into bed and forget today had ever happened.

“Rose, slow down!”

Bayley ran after her, huffing for breath as Rose finally paused on the incline up the path. The icy mud sucked at their boots, threatening to trip them or cause them to slip. The hilly terrain did nothing to help either of them.

Rose turned to Bayley, shaking from head to toe.

“You walk so fast—“

Bayley was immediately cut short by Rose holding out the money to her - well, more like shoving it at her.

Rose thought her heart might leap out of her throat.

“Take it.”

Her voice was steadier than it had been all night - but also hoarse, tired.

Bayley blinked at her a few times, raising her hand to move it away.

“Rose, I—“

“B-Buy your dog. Buy a-a new pair of— of boots, get something f-for Douglas, buy a-a new— new cart— but f-for— for the love of the Gods, Bayley— please don’t l-let me hold onto it any longer. I don’t n-need it. I don’t want it. Please.”

The air was heavy, the wind blowing between them an icy chill on their cheeks and ears. It did little, though, to relieve the stinging pain on Rose’s eye and head. She wanted to lie down. She wanted to lay in bed forever - make use of that ice Bayley had offered her.

Sleep and act as if today had never happened. That she couldn’t still hear Todd’s terrified screams as Lady Constance dragged him down the hall by the hair.

“Please.”

Her voice was soft, hardly heard over the roaring wind in their ears.

Bayley seemingly held her breath for a long moment, but tentatively took the cash and tucked it into her cloak. Her hands shook with the motion, and she suddenly wrapped Rose in a tight hug.

Rose was taken aback, frozen for a moment, until she slowly returned it, burying her face into Bayley’s shoulder and gripping the back of her cloak in her frigid hands.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Tears filled her eyes at Bayley’s words, a hoarse whimper escaping Rose’s throat as tears began to run down her face.

“It’s going to be okay.”

The silence was unbearable. The only sound Rose could hear was the drastic thumping of her heart in the agonizing quiet. The wind howled outside, again rattling her window as it always did. It was a terrible, wretched night. She was so cold, in so much pain… yet sleep wouldn’t come.

She laid on her good side, allowing the ice water-drenched rag to lie on her bruised face. She hadn’t even changed into her night clothes - she had just laid down as soon as she arrived. Her cloak provided an extra warmth, she supposed, although she made a note that she’d have to wash her bedsheets tomorrow.

Oh god, tomorrow.

She was dreading the day to come. She’d have to pull herself out of bed to work, have to act as if nothing had happened - something she wanted so desperately to do, but the thought of doing so made her heart ache and her stomach churn.

The terror in his eyes flashed in every waking memory, and when she closed her eyes all she could hear was his screaming - see the rage on her mistress’s face. The blood on Reese’s hands, fumbling with the silver lighter.

What had happened to him? What had she done?

Her racing thoughts embedded themselves in like a knife, forcefully keeping her from sleep like she were a prisoner to her own mind. Despite her angle, with her eyes closed and the cool compress against her bruise, rest would not find her. It was like he was haunting her - even after her escape.

She just wanted to sleep forever…

However, the blur of her mind was suddenly halted by a familiar sound. A wave of terror coursed through her body like an icy wave of dread, her eyes widening further and her body stiffening, straight as a board.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack.

There would be only one reason the Mistress was up at such a late hour, on this floor of the servants’ wing.

She’s coming for me.

Rose felt her breath begin to quicken as she abruptly sat up. Her heart pounded faster, and she all but threw the rag into the bucket of ice Bayley had initially fetched - now turned cold water from the passage of time - with a soft splash.

The sound of her heels grew closer to her door, and Rose stood from her bed - but was suddenly hit with a wave of lightheadedness and nausea. She had sat up too fast, and the blinding pain of her injury led her to stagger backwards onto the bed.

What was she going to do, anyway? It’s not like she could stop her - she’d seen that this afternoon. All she had to do was grab her and she’d be helpless.

The heels paused at her door. Rose felt her throat tighten as she gripped her head, her heart thrumming and the knot so tight she felt she couldn’t swallow.

“Rose?”

The voice that came was quiet. So unlike Lady Constance - gentle, even. She sounded so uncertain…

Rose was lost for words. She didn’t know what to say, what to do.

“Rose, are you awake?”

More silence. Rose almost whimpered, blinking to try and clear away her pain and nerves. Why? Why must she feel this terror? Why must she suffer this pain over and over again?

A soft knock.

Rose took a breath, slowly rising to her feet. She stepped towards the door, the dried mud cracking against the floor and leaving a dried trail to accompany the muddy footprints to her bed. That must’ve explained it - she must’ve tracked mud all the way to her room.

Such a sloppy Maiden.

Slowly, she laid a hand on the knob to the door, and twisted it, pulling…

Lady Constance stood before her, her hand raised as if she had been about to knock again. She slowly lowered her hand, expression softening at the sight of Rose’s tired, battered face.

“Oh, Rose…”

She reached a hand out to gently cup her cheek, but hesitated when Rose lowered her head.

“I’m sorry.”

Rose didn’t move, didn’t speak - she couldn’t. Everything hurt - and what would she say? Thank you? Go to Hell? You scared me to death? You saved my life?

“Does it hurt?”

She winced as Lady Constance said this - lowering her head a little more. It hurt so much… she wanted nothing more than for it to stop hurting, to just get some sleep…

“I know, dear…”

Lady Constance’s hand tentatively met Rose’s unharmed cheek, brushing her thumb over the freckled skin, studying her every expression and movement.

“Say something— please?”

Rose winced again at her tone, tears brimming at her eyes. She had never heard her Lady so despaired.

“Wh-what— happened t-to him?”

Her voice was hoarse and broken - Rose was surprised she could even say the words. Lady Constance sighed.

“He’s been taken care of. He will never hurt you, or anyone else ever again.”

Rose had been afraid of that. He was just… gone.

Like Samantha.

“Yesterday,” Rose said hoarsely, “Mrs.— Mrs. B-Birch wanted us— us to tell her where— wh-where Samantha was.”

The Lady’s eyes darkened, and her expression grew cold.

“I didn’t— k-know what to t-tell her.”

Her eyes raised to meet Lady Constance’s - those bright red irises almost glowing in the cold darkness. Her expression was blank and dull - lifeless, almost.

“Why? W-Why can we not tell her..?”

If she weren’t so pained, so tired, she may not have asked the question at all. But she needed something - anything to hold on to.

Lady Constance was silent, her hand drawing away from Rose’s cheek. The gentleness was gone, her face growing more serious and dull. Rose felt her heart catch in her throat - the fear crawling up her spine again.

“I will deal with Mrs. Birch,” she said calmly, “it is not your issue to handle. And you, nor any other Maiden, will speak on the matter - because you don’t know what happened, and I will not have you blamed for something you know nothing about.”

“Then tell me!”

Rose said it a little more aggressively than she meant to, the tears spilling freely down her cheeks.

Lady Constance flinched - slightly, but enough for Rose to notice.

There was a long pause, before Lady Constance spoke again.

“No. The less you - or any of the other Maidens know - the safer you are.”

Fear was turning to anger. Again, being told nothing - Todd couldn’t tell her anything, her mother couldn’t tell her anything, now one of two people she felt she could confide in wouldn’t tell her anything, and the other was forbidden from speaking on it either!

“Safe from— safe f-from what?!”

“I cannot tell you. My love…”

Lady Constance’s expression softened, and she let out a long breath.

“Let us leave it as punishment, will we? Todd paid for his crimes. Samantha paid for disobedience - for breaking the one rule asked of by myself and my fellow Lords. The how and why - the specifics - do not need to be known, only that they were punished. Must you know every detail of how someone is punished?”

Rose wasn’t satisfied, but she was too tired to continue arguing. It was clear that her Mistress’s lips were sealed, and were not opening any time soon.

“But let me make clear—“

She held Rose’s face with a hand, forcing their eyes to meet. Rose jolted, eyes widening and a chill climbing up her spine.

“—you are not to tell anyone what happened here today. Let me tell it. You do not need to be involved. It will be bloody and brutal and my story to tell - lest you be dragged into the fight. I cannot stand to watch you be ripped apart any longer.”

Rose whimpered - a subconscious reflex, really, and she feared her knees might give out. Sensing this, Lady Constance released her face.

“Please, Rose. You do not need to be involved in a fight you have no part in. I care for you dearly - and I don’t want to see you hurt again. If you, or anyone else becomes involved, my fellows might see you as a threat - and I would do anything to keep you from their wrath, even if it means… this.”

Rose maintained her silence, shivering in the cold air and from the prowess of the woman in front of her.

Gods, her head hurt.

“Get some rest. I will tell Jada to let you and Miss Evans have the next few days off. You both must recover from the day’s events.”

A dull feeling of deja vu hit Rose like a brick, but she said nothing as Lady Constance backed away, and walked back down the hallway.

Her heels clicked against the cold tile, and Rose narrowed her eyes to watch her leave.

A small red splotch was stained on her tailcoat - the same color as the dried blood on Reese’s hands.