saudade - Klaus Baudelaire x Fem! reader

Chapter One

Quick Author's Note: I recommend reading this story in the monospace font, as it looks somewhat like it was done by a typewriter.

Y / N  P O V
I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway. I hurriedly put down my book and pretended I had been cleaning the whole time.

Olaf slammed the door open. He looked satisfied and happy for once instead of annoyed and angry. I wondered why.

"Come downstairs with me," he said.

I just nodded and followed him. I would've asked why, but I had learned not to question him. He would just get mad and tell me to follow him.

"You are not to question me, you little brat," he would say.

It was less the fact that he would likely get mad at me if I asked and more so the fact that I was scared to. He didn't get mad every time I asked a question, only when I asked too many. I had done that a few times when I was little, and I can never remember exactly what happened, but I remember pain and fear. It was the reason why I never talked much anymore, and never to Olaf.

I had no idea why he hated me so much. I didn't know what I had done to deserve it. Maybe it was just Count Olaf's personality. He never treated his troupe much better.

We reached the bottom of the steps. He told me to wait a few feet behind him and slightly to the left. I stood there and waited, wondering what was going to happen.

The doorbell rang, making me jump. Olaf started talking, but didn't open the door. Oddly enough, he wasn't addressing me either.

"Hello. No. Hello. Hello, hello, hello."

He continued practicing greetings in different voices. Someone important had to be at the door if he was practicing how to greet them, even if it was last minute.

He turned to the door and looked through the peephole. He then drew back with a scowl and unlocked the door.

He opened the door, but I couldn't see who it was.

"Hello, hello, hello, children," he said menacingly.

Children? He had practiced greetings only to open the door to children?

"I am Count Olaf," he continued, "the renowned actor and your new guardian."

I looked past him to see three children and a man. The man must have just been there to drop them off. As for the children, there was a girl who looked a bit older than me, with long brown hair and bangs. She had blue eyes and a pink dress underneath a blue sweater.

There was a boy who looked my age. He had brown hair and glasses. He was wearing a red sweater over a white button-up shirt and had a brown jacket.

The last of the children was a baby with blonde hair tied into a ponytail on the top of her head. She was wearing a yellow sweater.

They looked unsure of the situation at hand and of living with Count Olaf, which they should be.

"You're welcome," said Olaf.

"Thank you," said the girl warily.

"You're welcome," Olaf repeated, "Please, come in, and mind you wipe your feet on the mat so you don't track in any mud. And don't forget your enormous fortune!" He gestured at the house as they stepped inside. "Welcome to my humble home, orphans. And... a man with a hat on."

"Poe," the man replied.

"Actually, I'm about to be rather wealthy. So if you'll excuse me-"

"No, we spoke on the phone. I'm from Mulctuary Money Management."

"Hmm. 'Money' sounds familiar, but-"

"The bank. I'm from the bank."

"Ah, yes, the bank. Well, welcome to my humble home."

The man started coughing. The children looked at me. I attempted to smile at them, but I couldn't bring myself to. They exchanged worried glances with each other and looked back at Mr. Poe.

"It does seem to need a little work," he said.

"Well, I realize it's not as fancy as the Baudelaire mansion, but perhaps, children, with a bit of your money, we'll be able to fix it up, make it nicer," Count Olaf replied.

Mansion? I had read about those in books. I had never seen one in person, of course, since I had never been allowed to go anywhere. But from what I had read, they're large houses that rich people live in.

Count Olaf and Mr. Poe continued talking for a little while, and I figured out that these children were the Baudelaires, whose home burnt down in a fire with their parents inside. Now, they were orphans, and their parents had left them inheritance money.

Soon enough, Count Olaf got tired of Mr. Poe.

"Well, then, as we say in the theater, exit stage right," said Olaf.

"Goodbye, Violet, goodbye, Klaus, goodbye, Sunny. I hope you'll be happy here. I'll still check in on you occasionally. If you need anything or have questions, you can reach me at the bank," Mr. Poe said, getting interrupted by Count Olaf shutting the door behind him.

"Well, children, aren't you going to say 'how do you do' to your new guardian?" Olaf asked the Baudelaires menacingly.

"How do you do?" asked the older girl, who I assumed was Violet.

"How do I do? Better and better, Baudelaires. Better and better." He pulled a long piece of paper out of his jacket. "Do you know what this is?"

"It looks like a list," the boy, who I assumed was Klaus, said.

"Wrong! It's a list." I rolled my eyes at Olaf's ignorance. "A list of chores. Rich brats like you are probably spoiled rotten and have never done a chore in your life. Y/n will show you to your room and show you how to do these chores. Run along, now."

I sighed and gestured for the Baudelaires to follow me. I took the list from Olaf and went upstairs to our bedroom.

"We'll have to share a room," I said quietly once we got up there.

"But there's only one bed," Klaus responded.

"I know. But, luckily, Count Olaf told me you would be coming, so I had time to set this up."

I walked over to the other side of the room and put the two makeshift hammocks on their hooks in the walls.

"Our bathroom is the one across the hall," I continued.

"I have a question," said Violet.

I looked at her and nodded.

"Are you Count Olaf's daughter?" She inquired.

"No. He doesn't have any children, he could never stay with someone long enough or have enough commitment to have them."

"Then why are you here?" Klaus asked.