Gwendolyn_682 has a minion!

Minion the Sewts

She ran nervous hands over her blue skirts, trying to get them to retain some sort of feminine shape. Walking up the dusty path, she herded her wares – a collection of fine chickens – toward the great manor.

She had been here a few times before, and knew the place belonged to a great man, Lord Archibald. In all her visits here, though, she’d only seen the man briefly, usually through the window. His study, she assumed, was positioned so the window overlooked his great front lawn, and she liked seeing him bent over his desk, working furiously at something or other. It wasn’t much, but having even these short sightings of him made her happy.

Her chickens clucked loudly into the front yard and she called out to the servants. “Hello? It’s Gwendolyn! I’ve come to bring Lord Archibald’s order about.” No one responded to the call. Puzzled, she mentally tried to work out what to do, while attempting to keep an eye out on the chickens, making sure her goods didn’t go wandering off the property.

After a few minutes, the great front door opened, and Gwendolyn barely managed to suppress a gasp of surprise. Lord Archibald himself had come out! Oh, he was even better up close. Gwendolyn’s friends often told her how handsome the man was, and she was more than inclined to agree. His rich, red-brown feathers had a brilliant sheen to them in the daylight, and his suit was cut to fit his body perfectly. It was her understanding that his right eye was glass, but his left eye was still sharp and clever, focusing on her intently from behind the monocle.

“Excuse me, miss?” he started, his voice deep and mesmerizing. “I’m afraid most of my staff is on vacation. I apologize for the delay.”

She inclined her head slightly, making sure not to focus on his face too much; that would not be fitting for her station in life. She briefly explained the process, giving him a form to sign to confirm that he received the chickens, and taking the payment. He placed another order, and she agreed to bring it by in the next few days. It was a short first meeting, but his mere presence had made her heart beat rapidly.

A few days later, she returned, as promised, and once again, Lord Archibald was there to greet her. Gwendolyn was taken by him. He was handsome and kind, and had a way of speaking that made her feel understood by him. However, she had been warned countless times by friends – various maids and delivery girls mostly – that nobility marries nobility. She kept that fact in the back of her mind, but in the meantime, she enjoyed his attention; he was a real gentleman.

One afternoon, he led her around to the back of the manor, and they sat by the pool. It was really hot out, so the gentle breezes dancing over the water felt good. Sitting on a stone bench, he kneeled beside her, and took her paws in his claws.

“I love you so much, dear,” he said, smiling. “Will you be mine?”

A small alarm went off in her head. Nobility marries nobility. It’s what society expects, and to go against it meant inviting trouble and scandal.

Gwendolyn sighed, holding back tears. She wanted to return his affection, to say yes and leap into his arms… “But Archibald, we couldn’t! Someone of your standing can’t be with someone like me. Your family’s reputation would crumble at just the thought of us speaking. I just, I couldn’t do that to you.”

He ran a claw through her fur, and forced her to look at him. Gwendolyn let him say his piece, but half of her didn’t believe that he surely meant to go through with this. When he asked her to run away, she shook her head.

“You can’t be serious! How would we even manage to do something like that? You’re fairly well-known. Where would we even go?” Because she loved him so deeply, she knew she had to deter him from trying to follow through with this crazed idea. She thought she had brought up valid points, but he took it as an invitation to plot their escape from the town.

He seemed so serious, and the part of her that wanted to say yes was finding its voice, while the part of her that brought up logical, rational reasons why she should say no apparently went to sleep. Eventually, so taken in by his enthusiasm, she had to give in.

“Well, I have heard of a woman that lives a bit that way,” she said, pointing north to where the woman’s home supposedly sat. “She’s supposed to be quite wise and powerful. Maybe she could help us!” Gwendolyn clasped her paws together, and leaned toward Archibald, excited that she would be able to contribute to their escape plan. He frowned slightly, seeming to consider the idea, and finally nodded his consent.

“We’ll go see her tonight then. Meet me by the gate at midnight, bringing only what you need,” he said, pulling her into a quick embrace.

She hugged him back, and agreed to come. Excited and nervous, she left, hoping with her heart that he would be there that evening.

The twilight fell quickly that night; the stars even seemed to dim themselves a bit, as if they knew what was going on below them. The darkness made it difficult to follow the path, but the two lovers tore down the road as quickly and quietly as they could.

Gwendolyn’s body was filled with energy, and she didn’t even notice her pants for breath, as she focused solely on keeping up with Archibald’s long, self-assured stride.

It took maybe twenty minutes for them to reach their destination, but sure enough, the rumors Gwendolyn had heard were correct. A small hut peeked over the top of high grasses and weeds. They picked their way down the broken path toward the house, and Gwendolyn held tightly onto Archibald’s claws. Now that they were here, really following through with everything, she was nervous about what was going to happen.

An elderly, hunched woman let them inside, and Gwendolyn smiled briefly at the look of utter disdain that crossed Archibald’s face. He probably hadn’t encountered many women like her, but Gwendolyn certainly had over the years. The woman’s age and worn appearance didn’t lessen her hope.

Alternatively, Gwendolyn and Archibald explained how they came to meet and their plans, and Archibald concluded their brief tale with asking for help.

The woman let out a harsh cackle of laughter, surprising Gwendolyn. “Look at you! A peasant and a lord. ‘Escape society,’ you say? There is no way to do so! Your love can never be.”

Her heart fell, and she couldn’t help but let out a sob. Tears fell down over her face, and she shook her head. Of course the woman couldn’t help them! Gwendolyn mentally reprimanded herself for believing so foolishly that their escape would actually work. Vaguely, she heard Archibald arguing with the woman, but she knew that wasn’t going to amount to much. She leaned into his hold when he leaned over to comfort her, not taking any more notice of the woman. If she couldn’t help them, what was the point?

When the point was forced into Gwendolyn’s back, she let out a gasp and her consciousness faded into black nothing.

The morning dew woke her, the damp feeling a bit too uncomfortable for her. She rolled over, and groaned as a sharp stick dug into her back. She sat up and looked around, noticing a dark, green feathered man… Archibald! She was puzzled at the change in appearance, but upon noticing a deep gash across Archibald’s chest, an old tale she had once heard sprang to mind. She placed a paw on Archibald’s arm and ventured a guess as to their condition. “Are we… dead?”

His once-brown eyes had turned into a gleaming yellow, and she noted the sharp look of disbelief in them. He laughed humorlessly at her suggestion, but as they spoke, mutually trying to figure out their situation, Gwendolyn became more and more certain that they were, in fact, dead, and Archibald eventually seemed to accept this too.

Finally, he smiled slightly, and let out a sigh of relief. “We can live together now,” he started. Amused, Gwendolyn raised a questioning eyebrow, and he laughed at his own accidental joke. “Okay, okay! So we’re dead, but that means no one can bother us now.

“We can make it work. I know we can. You and me, for the rest of time.”

Encouraged by his claw underneath her chin, Gwendolyn met his eyes and smiled at his certainty. “Yes, my darling,” she replied. “I will always be by your side.”

But there are two sides to every story...

credit Peach Rah overlay, User not found: risp profile, twocents story