happilyeverbeginning | So stay away from me / the beast is ugly (scrooge x magica)

Anther huff, sitting up straight and turning away from him. She already had plenty of servants to take care of her - she didn't need another pitying face.

"Top shelf on that wall." She indicated with a tilt of her head which direction she went. "And when it's finished, the one after that. Every shelf from left to right, top to bottom."

Scrooge nodded and limped his way over to the ladder. He had plenty of practice carrying books up and down ladders, but he didn't go as fast as she might have liked by virtue of his bad leg. Him trying to rush, falling, and breaking his neck would do neither of them any good.

The climb down the ladder was slower than going up, and he was very careful to put all his weight on his bad leg for as brief a time as possible, pausing between each step to make sure he was secure before going to the next rung.

Finally, he returned and sat down on a pillow, opening the book up and beginning to read. Even though it was in Latin, he read it as easily as if it had been translated into English, translating on the fly in his head and only taking a few extra minutes when the passage was particularly awkward due to trying to obscure some form of magical truth. As awkward as those passages were, he didn't dare try to do a more fluid translation. After all, there might be something in the phrasing that made no sense to him but would to a witch.

There was no snapping at him to hurry up, no bark that he was taking forever. Perhaps there was more sympathy in her than she cared to admit.

As he read, she closed her eyes, listening to the words. She made no sound, save for the occasional inhale and exhale of air. There was relief that he didn't ask any bothersome questions, or try to change the phrasing that would be more pleasing to the ear. Occasionally there would be some movement under her eyelids, a sign that she was trying to put things together or apart in her head.

Hours passed like this - and then, after several books had been finished, there was a knocking on the library door.

"Noon, mistress." said Clara. It was time for lunch.

Either sympathy or enlightened self-interest: He was no good to her as a corpse.

By the time Clara appeared, his voice was sounding a bit rough. He desperately needed to give his voice a break, and he was in desperate need of water. However, he didn't get up from his position, simply pausing in reading until Magica decided whether or not he was to continue.

Magica sighed, trying to align her back - sitting up like this for a while was straining - not to mention "something else" was killer on her shoulders. "Go. You have an hour, then you'll return and resume."

He mutely nodded his head, not wanting to use his voice more than absolutely necessary. He slid a ribbon between the pages to mark his place. Grabbing his cane, he got up and moved to follow Clara, moving at a shuffle rather than a normal walk due to stiff legs.

He offered the maid a small smile of gratitude, hoping it got across what he wanted to say.

Clara guided Scrooge to the dining room - unused in a long time, it seemed - where another meal awaited him.

"You can go anywhere you'd like, if you finish your meal early. So long as you don't enter any closed doors."

Scrooge cleared his throat and told her hoarsely, "I appreciate that. Will anyone else be joining me?"

The thought of sitting in the large dining room alone unsettled him.

She shook her head. "She... doesn't really encourage us to mingle."

Scrooge frowned in disappointment but sighed.

"Perhaps I could take my meals in my rooms then?"

If he was going to be isolated, at least he'd like to not have to stare at the empty chairs.

She nodded. "You may. I'll bring them there from now on."

"Thank you."

He sat down to his meal and offered her another smile as he saw the pot of tea, catching a hint of honey. The meal itself was more of the same as far as food went: fancy French stuff that would hardly feed a bird.

"May I ask what you all get for meals?"

"The same as you," she gestured to the plate. "And it used to be what the mistress ate... before." When her body was normal.

She glanced around, keeping her voice low. "I think it's what she assumes people of high class and wealth eat... and that we'd all like it too." An act of stupid kindness, perhaps.

"What does she eat now?"

He then thought carefully.

"If I'm going to be doing her finances, local food would be cheaper. You could have more filling portions for less as well. Because I don't know about you all, but I feel like I'm starving when I eat this."

"She won't listen to us." They were only the help, after all. As for what she ate now... that question was ignored. The conversation was already too dangerous - divulging extra information on the mistress was like putting a target on her back.

"But I suppose she wouldn't notice when our food changes, if it's slow enough at first. We're not allowed to eat with her."

Scrooge nodded his head. "Okay. Let's bank on that one as a fallback in case I can't convince her. She can't make gold whenever she wants anymore, so she's going to have to cut expenses. I'll see if I can't convince her to start with the food."

In the meantime, he didn't have a lot of time to eat. He took a sip of his tea.

"Thank you again."

Taking that as a signal to leave, Clara curtsied and left.

Once the hour was up, Magica would be waiting in the library - what choice did she have? - but there was one noticeable change.

On the table was a pitcher of water and an empty cup. It wasn't for her.

Scrooge returned on time, having taken the time to refresh himself. He glanced at the pitcher of water and glass with some relief. That would help significantly.

He poured himself a glass but didn't drink from it just yet. Instead, he sat down to look at Magica.

"Since you're also having me work on your finances, I had a suggestion to start off: You need to save as much as you can right now, so it'd be best to have local cuisine rather than the decadent things you typically serve. Locally-sourced food will be cheaper than having to import special ingredients from the continent, so you'll have more for less."

One look at her face could tell she was irritated - but she couldn't really argue. After all, he was doing exactly what he was hired to do. A bit of grousing a bit of grumbling, but eventually there was a nod.

"Don't make a big show of it." She huffed. "I don't need the locals knowing I'm having issues with money." Power, respect, fear - those were important forces of the world, and in her condition she could rapidly lose all three.

"Of course," he said, biting down on the sarcastic response he'd wanted to say. The last thing he needed to do was to ruffle her feathers further.

He picked up the book and opened it up to where he'd stopped, waiting for her to tell him when to begin.

Seeing that he was ready to get back to work, she nodded once and ease into the pillows. "Resume."

Scrooge began reading, only pausing to take sips of water or taking very brief restroom breaks. At least the water helped keep his voice from completely drying out.

Again, hours and books passed, the only sound with Scrooge's own voice.

Knock-knock. "It's six o-clock." Time for dinner, and he'd be done for the day.

Scrooge had nearly finished the book. It had been an interesting read if a bit confusing. Well, he'd likely learn more through osmosis as time wore on.

He got to his feet and held out a hand to offer to help her up.

But she didn't take it - and even seemed to glare him for the offer. Clara cleared her throat as she stood in the doorway, trying to get Scrooge to leave before things got worse.

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