Birds Of A Feather || N. Mikaelson

⊳⊳11⊲⊲

❝Make a business for yourself, boy, set some goals. Make a fat diamond out of dusty coals.❞ - Outkast: "B.O.B"

⊳⊳|⊲⊲

France, 1778

"Anne," the Queen called from her bedroom, struggling to get out of her heavy fineries. "Anne, dear, where are you?" The sound of rustling fabric, soft curses and tight breathing filled the air as the French woman yanked on the fabric. 

Her blonde handmaid appeared, rushing to help her get all the fabric and nice clothing off. "Sorry, miss, how was the dinner?" Anne gently took each piece of clothing and placed them on the bed to be put away as the Queen stripped down to her undergarments. She was pale and short, with dark eyes and a gentle expression. Her young features the epitome of beauty as she peered at the older and taller blonde woman. Grace fell over every movement of the royal. 

Marie settled onto her small wooden chair as Anne began to undo her heavy wig. "It was alright, quite boring." The Queen shuffled her feet into her silk slippers and let out a sigh. "Politics, Anne, are dull." Marie Antoinette was about twenty years old, with thin dark hair and a bright eyes. She was pretty, intelligent, and incredibly kind. Her head tilted as she peered at her handmaid through half opened eyes, a tired expression clear on her round face. 

Anne smiled as the Queen's natural hair fell loosely around her shoulders. "It sounds it, miss." Marie stood, peering at the wooden bath in the room. 

"Can you draw me a bath, Anne? Actually, no. Have Louise draw me a bath, your suitor was asking after you earlier," the Queen of France hummed and looked to the door. "Don't let him steal you away too soon. You are my favorite." Her following smile warmed the handmaid's heart as she played with her skirts. 

Anne laughed, her gray eyes turning to the wooden door of the Queen's chambers. "I'll get Louise for you, your Highness." She curtsied and left, going to grab the petite, redheaded orphan girl that served as Marie's other handmaid. 

As soon as Anne thought that everything was settled, she exited the room and went down the long hallway. Her suitor leaned against the wall at the end, dressed finely with his hair loose around his shoulders. 

"Hello, my lord," she murmured, bowing to him. He raised his eyebrow at her, tilting his head. 

"Such respect, I didn't realize you were capable of it, Lady Anne," he teased and tugged her blonde hair. "Drop the act, love." His blue eyes were warm and mischievous as she fell into his sweet embrace. His nose rested on her head, and she could smell the meat and wine from dinner. 

"I've missed you, Nik," she sighed into his chest, letting him squeeze her close before releasing her. "I've got news. But first, how was the hunt?" 

Niklaus sighed, offering his arm for her to take. He began to lead her towards the staircase that lead outside. "It was alright. We caught a large boar, ate it for dinner. The king was awfully proud, though he didn't do anything." He winked and Anne muffled her laugh with her pale hand. "Tell me your news. Have you finally agreed to leave this place with me?" 

She sighed, her news was vastly different. They stepped outside and a cold breeze brought with it the scent of grapes and wine. The moon was waning and muted in the dark sky, and wolves howled in the distance. "Niklaus, I must leave."

"With me," he finished, smiling that smile she knew so well. 

She shook her head, the happiness on his face fell like the walls of Troy. "No. I'm too old to be the Queen's handmaid any longer. And, the man I told you about, he sent me a letter this morning. I must go, my love." She touched his jaw, he looked distressed and she knew that look. That worry, that protectiveness, that hatefulness.