Junkenstein X Reader: Right Hand Man

Part Four:

Your steps echoed against the cold brick as you made your journey back to the maid quarters. Remembering the slanted step from before, you jumped up the un-even path and glared at the bottle. The murky green glass held a dark liquid that seem to stain the inside of the glass as you swirled it. Your hand chilled as it held the bottle, and the chill it's sent down your spine indicated it was kept somewhere cold and perhaps dark. The hair on your arms began to stand and a wave of subtle paranoia took over you.

Something was watching you.

You stopped and glanced behind you to see a shadowed figure in the dark. Your heart seemed to stop as the figure stood there growing more menacingly . A cold sensation began to creep its way on your flesh. Goosebumps covered your skin as air felt to slowly escape your lungs. However, before you were fully engulfed with a sense panic your brain dismissed the figure. In a sense of adrenaline you couldn't see it despite knowing it was the there.

Suddenly, an awful presence drew your attention down the hall on your right. Darkness surrounded the set of stairs that greeted you at the end of it. That's when you realized where you stood. A little fork in the castle. A path you struggled to go down when you were a child and unknowingly avoided to this day.

You had collected the trays from a visitors room that night, where a kind women invited by the king was staying. Her hair was as golden as the sun and her skin white as winter, giving her a radiate glow the first time you saw her. However, after seeing her once you had only seen two other times. Once returning from the king's quarters and once through the crack of the door to her room. She had handed you a tray and smiled at you through the small space before sending you off to the kitchen without a word.

Walking down those stone steps is where that night became less enjoyable and from then on a chain of similar events began.

Your feet as child barley made a sound against the cold stone. You focused on balancing fragile cups and plates in the tray which often clinked against the silver metal. Behind you, someone's steps echoed down. As routine you moved to the side to allow space for the person behind you. You waited  for them to past but no one did. Puzzled, you looked behind you and the stairs were emptying and dimly lit by the torch at the top. When you continued down again the steps behind you returned. You looked up again to find that the stairs remained empty.  Yours hands tightened around the tray as you quickly ran down and reached the end of stairs. Every hair on your neck rose to their ends and you could feel your small frame tremble in fear before the last step.

You looked up once more.

Waiting for you was the visitor barely peaking around the corner of the top step with the same smile on her face. You turned back quickly, forgetting the last step and facing a dark figure like the one you have just seen in the present, before falling forward and breaking what was in the tray.

You remember crying that night against the wall as a maid scolded you and another cleaned up your mess. You tucked in your knees as close as you could to your chest trying to explain what had happened over and over again until the older maid struck you across the cheek and grabbed you by your hair.

You remember Madame did nothing to sooth you.

You turned the bottle to its poorly written label and glared down with rage. You remembered the sting on your face after being hit and the words excusing your feelings from the one who should've cared the most. You ripped off the label and rubbed the glue clean off the glass.

The kitchen stood still as you passed it. The mess from the rats earlier had been cleaned and everything stood in place. A small rat squeaked by your foot and you left back to your quarters with the small rat following you.

As you got to the quarters you waited outside the door as your thoughts stirred.

Before you could open the door the maid from the kitchen opened it, sending your small friend squeaking away. Her brown hair was pulled back under her bonnet as her apron on top of her brown dress was covered with flour and stains.

"Good to see you survived visiting that estranged man." She greeted you with a sad excuse of a smile and lead your way in to where the eldest maid laid. The room grew dim as the sun began to set, blessing the room with soft rays of light and dust.

"Yes..." you began, ignoring her comment, "he was quite-"

"Rude?"

You bit your tongue and mumbled under your breath.

"...interesting is what I was going to say." 

"What did he do? Bark at you? Glared at you?" You stared down the back of her head. Hate was a familiar emotion with her. She wasn't part of the eldest group of maids but was part of those expected to take charge once the elders before her died, therefore leaving her treated better amongst the rest. She had more control over the staff and to your disliking, respect.

"I wish the king would rid of him already. There's no place for such evil, ill manner..."

You never wish to follow her orders.

"How much did he say to give? Damn bastard didn't leave a label."

You hated each word out her mouth and wished her heart would stop in place.

"I worry Madame's temperature is rising too much."

You wished to pull her hair,

"She was given tea but I'm afraid all that did was put her to sleep. At least she has no rash or spots, nothing too concerning of the past season."

Let out all the pain she had given you and disgust you held inside,

"How much should she be given? She would've had soup but those filthy rats..."

Spit on her,

"The king has an event arising in the future so you and I, or anyone free if need be, will attend to her care. Do you understand me? Y/N? How much medicine should she be given?"

And strike her across her face as she did to you.

"Y/N! You stupid churl, no wonder you were hedge-born, your stupid ears don't work. I won't ask this again. How much medicine should she be given?"

"A spoonful, should be enough."

The maid turned away with the bottle and gently shook the eldest awake. You glared at her before the Madame awoke with a slight cough. She went ahead and poured the brown liquid into a wood spoon as you prop the old lady up with a pillow.
She sipped the medicine and winced at the taste.

"Not the most delicious thing I've had," she said and the other maid chuckled. As she tucked the old Madame back to bed, you placed the bottle on the scratched up wooden table beside you. The liquid stilled in the soft light through the window where the moon in the sky was quick on its way. You said left them to talk as you resumed to the other chores  before nightfall but while taking a moment to yourself, reliving the anger, you noticed through the dark, right before a right turn, a white lab coat heading down a hall with a staircase at its end.