Ever After

Disclaimer: I don't own Gilmore Girls, nor do I own Ever After – the book, or the movie.

"Plan, Scheme, Conspire."

Ex

Rory slowly sunk into the bed that the Queen had ordered the servants to make up for her during the late afternoon. She sighed as she squirmed into a more comfortable position. As nice as it was to have people do things for her, she preferred to do them herself – seven years living in her stepmother's household had taught that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. It was a phrase that Sarah was constantly telling her, after scolding and chiding her for the 'poor' job she had done dusting the ornaments in the front hall, the way the beds had been 'dismally' made and 'extremely uncomfortable,' and how she 'presented herself in a lazy manner which would affect her chances of getting a husband' and how she was 'continually late without a thought for the rest of the family, which was incredibly selfish,' with the clichéd expression quickly following the insults. 'Speaking of my stepmother,' Rory thought, 'she'll question my absence when I return home tomorrow, and I will probably be punished with that whip she likes using on the rest of the servants.' Rory continued to let her mind wander, thinking of Jane and Emilia, as well as Jane's husband, who had been sold to the King three months ago and was now hundreds of kilometres away in France, where he was now a slave. 'And it's all Sarah's fault,' a little voice in her head whispered. 'With her attempt to appear rich, act wealthy and pretend that she is worthy enough to show her face in public!' Her thoughts drifted again, this time pondering why William had decided to force herself and Tristan together. 'He's a hopeless romantic who believes that no matter what your station is, you can make changes in another person's life.' She paused, and glanced around the room. 'Then again, maybe he's right. If I succeed in what William's suggested I do, then I'll be able to change my life – not to mention Jane and Emilia's. And maybe, if I do succeed, I can push to get Matthew back from England…' were her finally thoughts as she drifted off to sleep.

Ex

Rory woke up to the sound of faint knocking on the bedroom door. She pushed the blankets off the bed and hurried over, wrenching the door open to allow whoever was on the other side in.
"Good morning, Madame," said a short, portly woman. "I'm here to help you get ready for the day."
"Oh. I don't have anything with me, except what I was wearing yesterday. My visit was rather… unexpected, and my home is quite a few kilometres away," Rory replied, attempting to speaking how she imagined a person of the upper classes would talk. "And you may call me Lorelei, not Madame. If you want," she added hastily, turning towards the window.
"As you wish, Mada- Lorelei. I shall get your bath ready, and then go fetch some clothes for you to wear for the day from the Queen."
"Can't I wear the clothes I wore yesterday?" Rory asked, alarmed.
"Oh, no, Mada – Lorelei. They're downstairs, being washed by the… washers. It'll be another day before they dry."
"But… the Queen," Rory protested, beginning to feel frantic.
"Don't worry, Miss. The Queen won't judge you for it. She's a very nice lady, honest. I know she appeared stiff and mean yesterday, but she's not as horrible as she seems."
"Oh," Rory said. 'That doesn't make me feel any better. It's not the judging I'm worried about. It's the finding out that I'm lying! If she finds out, I'll probably be beheaded, or something equally gross. And I'll die, which means I'll lose a very important part of my life. And incredibly important part. The part that keeps me living! Rory began to pace nervously.
"That reminds me, Miss Lorelei. The Prince wanted to see you before breakfast. You better hurry along, because he rather anxious to talk to you. I couldn't imagine why, because the two of you talked for so long yesterday afternoon," the woman continued. Rory realised that she was probing for information. The infamous court gossips, she thought wryly. Rory shook her head.
"I can't imagine, either," she said dryly, beginning to find it easy to lie. "And, I was just wondering… what is your name?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.
"My name? Oh…" the woman said, beginning to get a little flustered. "Sally, Miss."
"Sally." Rory repeated, smiling. "That's a nice name." The woman finished pouring the water from the bucket into the tub, and headed towards the door. She turned around and curtsied before she opened the door.
"I'll be back in a moment with your clothes," she promised, leaving the room.

Ex

Rory looked at the stranger in the mirror, who was staring back at her with equally wide crystal blue eyes. The mirror girl was, in several ways, like the young seven-year-old that had eagerly waited for the day for the Baroness to arrive. And for a mother to be in my life, a little voice in her head added a little sadly. Some chambermaids had pulled back her hair so it tumbled down in fine ringlets, and she was wearing an emerald green dress with sparkling green beads stitched around the neckline, which was formally owned by the Queen, but she had willingly given it up.

"Well now," said a cheerful voice. "That fits much better than that dress that you wore to Court yesterday. You look much better."
"And unfortunately," Rory replied, putting on a tone every bit as cheerful as his, "you look no better than yesterday." She turned around and faced Tristan with a smile.
"I thought I told Sally to tell you that I wanted to have a word with you. Didn't she tell you?"

"Well. Yes, she did," Rory admitted. "But it took awhile for me to get changed. They fussed over my hair and my outfit more than Jane used to!" Tristan burst out laughing in reply.

"I take it you don't like people fussing over you," he grinned, once he'd overcome his bout of laughter.

"Well… no, not really. But, I mean, who does? Now," she said quickly changing the topic as a means of drawing the attention away from herself. "About this plan of ours… mine," she hastily corrected herself at Tristan's raised eyebrow. "How are we planning on doing this without getting me beheaded or shipped off to the Americas, or some other horrendous outcome?" Tristan looked thoughtful for a moment or two as he pondered the obstacle set before them.

"Well…" he said slowly. "We could always… pretend… to… get married?"

"No. No, no, no, no and no. That will only get me into even more trouble when the Queen finds out. Lying to royalty gets you killed. If you lie and end up dying, you lose a very important part of your life." Tristan let out a snort of amusement at Rory's comment, which she ignored.

"Technically, you're not lying, since I know what you're doing, and I'm actually helping you do whatever you want to do."

"Do you know how hard it's going to be to convince your parents that the Baroness is actually not the person she appears to be in public? Instead of being some wealthy, kind-hearted, generous soul, she's like a female, new-age version of Attila the Hun," Rory commented idly.

"What is it with you and the analogies?" Tristan asked, beginning to get frustrated and exasperated.

"Are you going to help me or not?" Rory asked. She found she was developing a talent for ignoring his snide comments and remarks, not to mention facial expressions and the noises he made when he opposed one of his ideas.

"Fine! What do you want me to do?" he asked.
"Well…" Rory said, leaning forward, a slight smile on her face.

Ex

"She's a very nice girl, Miss Lorelei is," Sally confidently told the other servants in the servants quarter. "She just appears to think that everybody looks down on 'er. She was even nervous 'bout what Her Royal Snootiness would have thinked about it! And with good re'son too." There was a small murmur of agreement when they thought about the Queen.

"The Queen isn't that bad, lovies," chided a voice. "She just got a lotta pressure on her, being the Queen an' all." Sally let out a snort.
"Pressure fiddlesticks! If nobody's up to 'er expectations, well, they're in a lotta trouble then, aren't they?"

"I heard she fainted when the Prince told her she was courting somebody," giggled another voice, slightly softer than the first.
"That sounds like 'er!" exclaimed Sally, shaking her head in disgust.
"Well before our heads get put on the chopping block, how about we start getting some work done around here?" demanded Miranda, the 'head' of all the servants in the castle, amidst some groans and grumbles.

Ex

"Mother, I heard some very unsettling news about the Baroness during the week," Tristan began during breakfast.
"Well, which one?" his mother commented dryly. "We have several in the region of France, you know." Rory covered her mouth to hide a slight smile, however, the King detected the slight crinkling of her eyes and couldn't help but be pleased by her reaction to the Queen's comment. Finally. A girl with a sense of humour, he thought while taking a sip of his beer.
"Baroness Sarah…" Tristan's voice trailed off as he tried to remember her last name.
"Olsen," Rory supplied, confident that no traces of her elaborate plan would be linked back to her. Strike one: Converting back to your old name once my father died, she couldn't help but think.
"That lovely lady with the beautiful daughters whom we dined with last week?" the Queen frowned, not believing in her son's tales. She also disapproved of young Lorelei breaking in on a conversation. Not ladylike at all. Rather rude, as a matter of fact.

"The very same. I believe she had sold off one of her servants to pay off one of her debts," Tristan said, realising too late that his reasoning sounded weak.
"Oh, sweetheart, that isn't against the law. Why, it's not a crime at all! Unsettling news, indeed! Honestly," the Queen said with a little laugh, shaking her head and returning to her breakfast.
"What about… lying to royalty? I believe that that is against the law in England," Rory spoke softly, her comment almost inaudible.
"I beg your pardon?" the King asked.
"I said--"

"Yes, yes, I heard what you said," the King said, waving a hand around. "How do you know the Baroness, and what fabrications has she been spreading, about this family, to this family or anywhere else as a matter of fact?" Rory flinched at his angry tone, unsure whether to persist with the matter. She glanced at Tristan, who gave a curt nod, before continuing.
"Well… I… I have some relations with the Baroness. Through marriage only, however," she added, somewhat hastily. "I suppose you could also classify me as one of her daughter Jacinta's friends, although it is a somewhat strange friendship."

I'm not telling lies, a voice in her head insisted.

Yes, but unfortunately, you're not telling the truth, either, another voice replied.

I'm telling white lies! the first voice argued.
Ah, but the point is, you're still lying, came the second voice again.

No, I'm just leaving out bits of information. Bits of information…
That could incriminate you? supplied the second voice.

"And I have heard… from Jacinta, that the Baroness has been lying about both her actions and the actions of her eldest daughter, Elizabeth. I should also point out that Jacinta believes that they are getting help, from inside the castle. One of your pages, I believe." Rory paused, as if in thought. "Rather old for a page, short, curly hair?" Tristan couldn't help but feel amazed at the performance she had just pulled off. It was brilliant, although if all of it was true, Sarah and Elizabeth were going to be in a lot of trouble indeed.
Enough trouble to have them incarcerated, shipped off to the Americas… or even killed.
Well, lying to royalty was a capital offence.