Unholy - Andley (AU)

4

(This chapter is continued in the next chapter, as it got too long. This part is just a quick filler, and the next part contains the action, for progression of the story it helps if you read both :) )

A loud metallic clanging sound suddenly echoed through the dimly lit servants quarters, the noise reverberating angrily from the cold stone walls. Every single slave jolted in unison out the uncomfortable straw beds, and a joined groan rose as they were disturbed from their sleep.

Ashley sat up slowly, clutching his head which already ached painfully from hearing that blasted noise every single morning. The source of the dreadful sound was a large cast iron pan, and could be found grasped firmly in a guard's hand, being struck endlessly with a steel rod until everyone was risen.

Ashley had only been as servant at Proudspire Castle for a week, and already he hated it. Every day they were forced awake at the cruel hour of three o'clock in the morning, before even the sun decided to come up.

Then after an exhausting day, usually they'd end up back in bed by twelve o'clock at night. At first it had been awful, but not dreadful. However now the effects of hardly any sleep combined with extreme exhaustion were taking hold, and Ashley struggled to keep his emotional outbursts to a minimum. He couldn't understand how the servants here at Proudspire managed to do this on a daily basis.

The work was no kinder.

Endless amounts of cleaning had to be done, fires had to be lit and restoked every hour, as god forbid the wretched count catch a chill.

Then there was tending to the castle gardens, the unnerving graveyard and it's headstones that marked the deceased generations of Andrew's family. At one point Ashley had wondered if the count had put them there himself.

Other soul crushing tasks included the torturous process of cooking meal after meal, having to remember all the complicated rules of what to and what not to do, based on if the count was in the room or not, and a ridiculous amount of other incredibly tiring and repetitive jobs laid present.

However Ashley seemed to have to worst of it. Usually he was not one to brag or exaggerate his situation, and he was definitely not the type to beg for pity by telling a false tale, but he was convinced the count personally sought him out daily and gave him the most degrading and humiliating jobs he had to offer.

A few particular 'requests' Count Biersack had made stuck in Ashley's mind and made his blood boil.

One was that he had been made to continuously adjust and readjust the same unbelievably heavy portrait for about an hour, before having the count agreeing it looked much better in its original position.

Another painful moment was when Andrew had given him the task of carefully sorting old tax papers by date, alphabetical order, and then to write down on separate pages how much was gained and lost in each month, which then had to be sorted in the original pile in the same order.

That job wouldn't have been as tedious, if the count then hadn't returned back to find Ashley's work completed to exactly as Andrew had instructed, to then take the pile and toss it carelessly into the fireplace, claiming he was suddenly cold and needed kindling.

He'd even had the audacity to grin smugly at Ashley, and ask in mocking concern what was the matter.

Ashley had to suck his cheeks in to stop himself showing any anger as he got washed and dressed and tied his hair back, ready for the day. He could guess the guards that watched them in case someone thought it better to stay in bed would not take to kindly to him suddenly lashing out and striking a wall.

But the count was so infuriating. How did anyone cope with him?

Within a few days Ashley had gone from feeling very uneasy and rather scared in Biersack's presence, to now just wanting to roll his eyes and snap at him every time he opened his mouth.

"Come on, there's work to be done," one of the guards stood by the door barked, and Ashley, along with several others, hurried out, and went down the dingy hall to the cobblestone stairs that lead up to the main part of the castle.

A sheet of paper was handed out to each servant by another guard as they went up the stairs to enter the castle. Ashley took his paper without enthusiasm, and reluctantly followed the crowd of servants upstairs.

These were orders for the day, and he just knew the count had prepared something stupid and pointless for him to do, only to criticise and humiliate him afterwards.

The brown eyed boy looked down at the inky blots which formed words etched into the rough cream paper, dreading to see what was scrawled out for him.

But it was not filled with black scribbles that read out to be a million and one jobs, as it was usually, but instead only two words appeared at the top of the page.

"Cooking duty? Seriously?" the boy read out, aghast, but very pleased that preparing a large lunch for the count would be the only task of the day, unable to contain the rather adorable grin that pulled at the corners of his mouth.

Cooking duty was strenuous work, but it was rewarding seeing a perfectly crafted meal. And this meant Ashley would be busy all day in the kitchen, unable to be mocked or provoked by the count, only having to see him briefly while he ate, and that would be it, as Biersack didn't eat any evening meals.

Ashley grinned brightly for the first time that week, and almost skipped his way up the stone staircase and down the long corridors to the large marble kitchen, arriving within a matter of seconds. Once there he surveyed it happily, as a child would survey a toy store, but knowing all the toys were already their's.

Hundreds of cupboards littered the mottled white walls, probably filled with exotic spices, mysterious fruits and vegetables that Ashley had never even heard of, and strange baking ingredients.

Long rows of polished raised counter tops lined themselves neatly along the very clean floor, and underneath them, more cupboards could be seen, storing cooking utensils, beautiful ornate crockery and shiny silver cutlery.

It was definitely the cleanest room in the castle, apart from the count's private quarters. Ashley had never actually seen the inside of them, nor had any other servant he'd talked to, but he could just guess they would be perfect.

Not his idea of perfect, of course. He and the count differed very greatly on what was considered 'nice'.

Already servants were lighting the fires and boiling water, so Ashley grabbed a white(ish) apron from the rack and tied it round his middle. Today was going to be a good day, he just knew it.

And he decided, Ashley thought to himself, to wipe that smug look off Count Andrew's arrogant face once and for all. He'd put his very best effort into this meal, make it the nicest food the count had ever had, and be forced to realise that Ashley had made that, and done it brilliantly, not having to be humiliated at all.

Take that, Biersack.

(continued in the next chapter)