A/N: Reader is plus sized and female. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Injury, Parent with dementia, Work stress. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part of the Royal Vows AU.
Previous -- Next
Jonathan checks his phone again. It's been four days and still no updates, no requests, nothing from you. He shouldn't worry, right? Maybe you have other people who can help you out. But if that were the case, would your mother have been alone that night he brought you home?
He chides himself. He needs to focus on his work, he can't get lost in thought about a single employee who is on leave. The Princess and her people are still settling in and there is much to be done for them on top of his usual duties.
Yet even as he roams the halls, putting out fires both literal and metaphorical, he cannot help but miss you. You would always greet him with a smile and a chipper "good morning, Mr. Pine!" And now that he's surrounded by people who are more reserved, who look at him with the expectation of being assigned more work, he finds himself in need of some sunshine and cheer. Someone with seemingly endless optimism even as they continually tripped over their own feet. Someone who, like him, took pride in their work, even if it was just sweeping and dusting.
As a servant comes looking for him, Jonathan tries to switch back into work mode.
"Mr. Pine, Angela is here with the latest fresh produce but she needs your signature," the servant explains.
Jonathan nods and heads towards the kitchens when he gets an idea. Perhaps Ms. Angela would be willing to deliver a small box of produce to your home. It might not be much, you might not even need it, but it might also help his mind settle a bit.
"Oh dear, aren't you supposed to be at work?" Mama asks for probably the thirtieth time this week.
Smiling softly, sadly, you show her the bruising on your rib cage. "I've been ordered to go on leave until I heal up," you explain again.
Mama pauses for a second. "Oh, yes, I remember now. I'm sorry, dear."
"It's okay, Mama," you nod. "It's hard to remember when I've gotten injured so many other times before."
She huffs. "Still, I should be more cognizant of these things. I don't know where my mind has been getting to since your Papa passed."
"Grief takes its toll, Mama," you reassure. "I'll be okay."
"Oh how I worry about you," she confesses. "I wish we could've set you up with a fine man who could take care of you. Someone who would make sure you never had to work so you wouldn't be at such risk of hurting yourself."
Mama's concerns are well meaning, you know. But it still hurts to think she doesn't want you working. That she's given up on you ever being less klutzy. Maybe that's why you latched onto Mr. Pine as strongly as you have. He works with you and, when you're not breaking things, he praises your work and dedication.
For now, though, you have more pressing concerns. You need to get to the grocery store but you're dreading the bus ride. You can't ask Mama to do it, obviously, and you're not sure your neighbors would be up for it. Papa was always the one people gravitated towards and were willing to help. Without him in your lives, the people didn't stick around so long, didn't offer assistance as much. Especially as you were so caught up in your work and taking care of Mama, it didn't give you much time to socialize, further pushing away old acquaintances.
A knock at your door startles you from your thoughts and you have to catch yourself before hurting your ribs again.
"Just a minute," you call out. Your mind runs through all the possibilities of who could be at the door. A package Mama forgot she ordered? A home inspection you'd forgotten to add to the calendar? An eviction notice you because of something you didn't realize you or Mama did?
You open the door and quickly recognize the woman in the doorway holding a box.
"Ms. Angela? What are you doing here?"
"Mr. Pine asked me to make a special delivery," she shrugs. "It's all bought and paid for, but I was told you've got some broken ribs so it's on me to bring into the kitchen. If you'll let me."
"Oh, of course!" you sniffle, trying to carefully get out of her way. "I'm so sorry about the state of the place. I wasn't expecting anyone."
"I understand," Ms. Angela assures. "Just lead the way."
"Oh, what's this?" Mama gasps. "I didn't know we were expecting visitors. Dear, why are making her carry that heavy box? That's not polite for a hostess. Oh, I need to get the tea on!"
"Mama, why don't you go freshen up while I get the tea started for Ms. Angela?" you suggest.
"Ah yes, thank you Dear! Lovely to meet you Angela, I hope you like lemon tarts! I just made some the other day."
"I'm sure I will, ma'am," Ms. Angela smiles and nods.
Mama walks away and you let out a small sigh of relief. "The kitchen is over this way. I can't thank you enough for this Ms. Angela!"
"Like I said, Pine asked and paid so I've got not problems dropping off some goods for you. It's mainly vegetables, I hope that's okay."
"It's more than okay! You've no idea how much stress you've saved me," you confess, a little teary eyed. "I'd give you a hug if I weren't worried about my ribs."
"Aww, don't worry about all that," she smiles. "Just do me a favor and let Pine know. I could tell him it was delivered, but I know it'll mean more coming from you." She gives you a wink as she sets down the box.
"I really should make sure express my gratitude," you nod. "That's the bare minimum of politeness, after all."
She smiles cryptically. "You know he ain't ever asked me to do this for other people."
Heat rushes to your face and you look away, embarrassed. "I guess he knows what a sad state we're in. He's such a kind, observant man."
"Just promise me you'll let him know. I gotta get back to the farm."
"I promise! And thank you again!"
Jonathan is in his office when his phone rings. His heart leaps when he sees it's you calling.
"Hello?" he answers.
"Mr. Pine," you sniffle and his heart drops. "Mr. Pine, I can't...I can't thank you enough."
Jonathan smiles, biting back a sigh of relief. "It's alright, Papillon. I'm just glad I wasn't overstepping."
"Not at all, Mr. Pine!" you're quick to reassure. "This should feed Mama and myself for at least a week!"
"I'm glad to hear it," he smiles. "And please, do not hesitate to let me know if you need anything else."
"I...I'll try, Mr. Pine."
You hang up and Jonathan spends the rest of his day with a small smile on his face.
Summary: Your injury gets addressed and Jonathan offers to help.
A/N: Reader is plus sized and female. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Injury, Parent with dementia, Work stress. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part of the Royal Vows AU.
Previous -- Next
You wake up slowly, unsure of what's causing all the commotion around you. As you open your eyes, the memories come back and you try to move, only to be stopped by the incredible pain in your side. You let out a whimper as you stay still and wait for the pain to subside. You've gotta get back to work! You can't disappoint Mr. Pine by living down to Arne's expectations of you.
Jonathan says your name and your eyes snap open as you try to stand up again. He gently puts a hand on your shoulder stopping you.
"You need to stay in place," he gently orders.
"Please, Mr. Pine, I'm so sorry! I'll get right back to work. I'm sorry I tripped again!"
"It is not your fault you were injured on the job," he quietly reassures. "I've already called a chauffeur to take you to the hospital. Are you familiar with Mr. Dayton White?"
"Oh, yes, a little," you nod. "He was nice to me when I still working in the kitchens."
"Excellent. Now, let me see your phone. I am adding myself to your contacts. You will update me as to your status as things come up. Understood?"
"Oh, um, yes, Mr. Pine," you mumble, handing over your phone. "Again, I'm so sorry!"
"Again, it is not your fault. If anything, the fault lies with me for putting someone so clearly inadequate in charge. The move is already going much smoother under Max's supervision." He hands you back your phone. "Mr. White should be here momentarily. You are to move slowly and carefully, watching your breathing. Understood?"
"Yes, Mr. Pine," you confirm before he turns and gets back to work supervising the Princess's move-in.
Dayton makes sure to drive extra carefully with you in the front seat. When you confirm you're okay with him talking he starts telling you about the car. It isn't one of the royal family's cars but it's still much nicer than anything you could afford. He admits he used to drive race cars and sometimes misses the speed but it was really good training for driving safely.
You try to pay attention, but every small bump in the road hurts you. Every attempt at a deep breath hurts you. You can't breathe properly to settle your nerves as you internally panic about your job and taking care of your mother. What are you going to tell her? Well, at least Mr. Pine's words make you think you'll be given the time off you need to heal without any pay cuts or anything. But what if he hires someone else in your place who isn't a klutz? What if it takes you too long to get better? What if something happens to Mama?
Another stab of pain hits, interrupting your panic. You're grateful to see the hospital in sight.
As Dayton rolls up to the entrance he lets you know, "I'm under orders to make sure you get seen and to be on alert for when you need to get taken home. You just text Mr. Pine and I'll be here quick to pick you up, okay?"
"Okay," you breathe through the pain. "Thanks, Dayton."
"Not a problem," he smiles as he gets out and calls for a wheelchair to take you inside.
Jonathan continues to check his phone. Thankfully your injury was the only mishap, the only black mark on the day. The Princess's servants had been appeased, noting how quickly Jonathan stepped in to fire Arne, promote someone competent and take care of the poor girl who was injured.
But Jonathan can't let it go. It was his fault Arne was in charge. He'd put his trust in the man and Arne had caused someone to get hurt by blatantly disregarding safety precautions. What's worse, you had taken the damage to yourself instead of letting some objects potentially break.
He feels a pang of guilt about that. He can't be sure of your reasoning, but somehow he knows it was your discussion on treating objects like they're as fragile as butterfly wings that led to this. It's a poor reflection of King Rogers when their Butler is encouraging people to put objects ahead of themselves. The Royal Family has always been keen on serving the people, how had Jonathan forgotten that?
When he gets the notification that you're being discharged from the hospital, Jonathan decides to pick you up himself. He has much to make up for.
Several hours later the hospital is ready to send you home. Yes, one of your ribs is broken, but at least none of your internal organs were damaged. You're under strict orders to not lay down to sleep, to ice your ribs a few times a day, and to make sure you cough to keep your lungs working. And you only have to do this for six weeks. You wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Pine decided that was too long and either fired you or made you come back to work after just a week or so.
To your surprise, you'll be given the chance to tell him right away as he's arrived to take you home.
"Mr. Pine? Where... where is Dayton?"
"It's quite late in the day. Mr. White's off the clock so I am picking you up," he explains. "Please do get in carefully. I will close the door behind you."
"Oh, thank you, Mr. Pine," you murmur tiredly as you carefully sit.
Jonathan gets in on the driver's side and puts your address into the vehicle's GPS. He waits until you're on the road before initiating conversation.
"Did the doctor say how long you will need to recover?"
"Um...he said..." you hesitate, debating whether or not you should tell him the full 6 weeks.
"I understand typical rib injury recovery can take several weeks," he interrupts your thoughts, his tone reassuring. He sees your confusion and explains, "I encountered several types of injuries during military service."
"Oh...um...yes, the doctor said 4 to 6 weeks."
"And that's with proper rest and care."
"Yes, Mr. Pine."
"Again, you needn't worry about your job," he reassures. "Workplace injuries are under my purview and I take them quite seriously. Your job will still be waiting for you when you are ready to come back."
Tears trail down your cheeks. "Thank you, Mr. Pine. I promise, I won't let you down."
"I believe in you, Papillon."
"Papillon?"
"Our discussion the other day? Where I recommended you treat items as if they were as fragile as butterfly wings?" You nod. "I should have said to take care of yourself as well. I've seen your bruises and cuts from your klutziness and now this. All because I implied the items were more valuable than your well-being. You are a butterfly, a papillon, in your own right. It is why I'm hopeful you will take the full six weeks to let yourself recover and heal."
"Yes, Mr. Pine," you whisper, wiping away the tears.
The car turns into your driveway and puts the vehicle in park. "But a moment and I'll have your door open for you."
"Oh, no, Mr. Pine, please!" you shake your head, stopping him from unbuckling. He freezes and gives you a confused look. "It's late and Mama's...Mama gets confused easily, especially in the late evenings. She...she doesn't like seeing strange men."
Jonathan's eyes soften and he nods, moving his hands away from his seat belt. "Please do be safe and careful. And do not hesitate to contact me should you need anything."
"Thank you, Mr. Pine."
Jonathan waits until you've entered the small house before driving away.
Mama is sitting in front of the TV, watching the shows she used to watch with Papa. Her symptoms had shown up years ago but got exponentially worse when he passed away.
"Hello, Mama," you call, keeping your tone happy. "Sorry I'm home late. Have you eaten?"
She doesn't respond, just keeps watching her show. Her fingers toying with her necklace are you only real indicator that she's alive.
Taking a careful breath you head into the kitchen only to find it a mess. Again. Mama must have gotten confused again and went looking for some food or drink that wasn't there. Well, the doctor said you had to alternate between rest and moving so at least you've got something to do.
Looking in the freezer you confirm that you've got some food you can easily cook for the two of you. You set the oven to preheat then put some ice cubes into a plastic bag for a makeshift icepack before heading into the living room.
Remembering the doctor's orders to not lay flat, you set yourself up in the recliner. It lets you keep an eye on Mama and you'll be near enough to the kitchen to take care of food and drink as needed. The exhaustion of the day settles in and you quickly drift off to sleep.
The oven's incessant beeping startles you awake and you move in a way that hurts your ribs. Hissing at the pain, you slow your movements and try to remember to take full breaths.
"Did you crash into the table again, dear?" Mama asks. "I should get your Papa to make some bumpers for the corners."
"It wasn't the table, Mama," you tell her, keeping your tone soft. "But I'm sure Papa will get right on it." You never talk to her like Papa has passed. The woman's mind is already going, no need to remind her of her pain.
"Charles," Mama calls out. "Charles, dinner is almost ready."
"I think he's working late, Mama. I bet he'll come home just as we've finished washing the dishes," you chuckle. It was always a joke in the family that Papa somehow knew when the chores were all done.
Mama chuckles softly and you get yourself into the kitchen. You'll do the plotting and planning for the groceries tomorrow. You'll also need how to figure out how to explain your presence to Mama. But first, dinner.
Summary: Jonathan Pine has had a perfect career, except for you, a maid whose klutzy nature makes things more difficult.
A/N: Reader is plus sized and female. No other descriptors used.
Warnings: Injury, Work stress. Please let me know if I missed any!
Part of the Royal Vows AU.
Jonathan had been a butler in the service of King Rogers for almost his entire career. He'd gotten the role after serving alongside Prince Ari during his required military service. He'd impressed the Prince so much that, when Jonathan asked for employment at the palace, it was immediately granted. Since that time, he worked his way up to becoming the greatest butler in multiple kingdoms, if the royal guests were to be believed.
He's appreciated by the royals he serves and even the staff he employs. He's never been too good to roll up his sleeves and help out where needed. He pays attention to the staff and their needs and is often generous with praise. Work at the palace pays very well and Jonathan knows how to motivate employees to do their best.
But right now his face is in his hand as he tries to keep calm about the broken 100 year old vase on his desk. You'd cleaned up the mess but brought him the pieces in the hopes he knew some way it could be repaired. It probably could, but that was beside the point.
"This is the third item this month," he states in a tone that makes your face drop in embarrassment. "At the very least, I can say that's an improvement from the last month. I think keeping you out of the Garden and Ground floors has worked well."
"Thank you, Mr. Pine," you mumble, not trusting yourself to say more.
"What happened this time?"
"I was vacuuming the guest suite, as you ordered. Getting it nice and clean for the Princess of Carga. I...I tripped over the vacuum cord and reached out to catch my fall but...I...I ended up grabbing the cloth the vase was on."
Tears start forming at the corner of your eyes as you recall. You really didn't mean to break anything. You never do. It's been your one saving grace with Mr. Pine. He knows you're not malicious and that you really need the work. Some items can be repaired but always at a cost you can't afford.
He sighs heavily, "are you certain there is no other employment available to you?"
The tears start pouring. "I promise, Mr. Pine, I promise I've looked. But no one else can pay enough for me and my mother unless I spend years either going to school or building a skill with an apprenticeship."
"But that would be years without a steady income," he nods in understanding. "Well, as I said, only three priceless items broken in a month is an improvement." You shrink further into yourself at the reminder of how precious the items you've broken are. "And you are very diligent in your work, not everyone is so dedicated to getting every nook and cranny. So do not worry about your employment at this time."
You let out a sob of relief. "Thank you, Mr. Pine. I promise to keep improving."
He gives a curt nod. "Just please remember to treat every item in the palace as if it were as fragile as a butterfly wing?"
"Oh, that's a good way to think about it, Sir. Each piece is so beautiful but so fragile. I promise I'll get that to work!"
He simply nods again and gestures for you to leave. Thankfully he doesn't comment when you almost trip over your own feet.
It's all hands on deck for the Princess's arrival. Jonathan has been working overtime to make sure the Royal Family doesn't have to worry about any of it. Every member of his staff has their part to play and he's on alert for things going wrong. While it may not be humanly possible to achieve perfection, he will get it as close as he can.
Knowing you don't do well in fast paced, high stress environments Jonathan assigned you to the rooms where the Princess's servants would be staying. You were part of the team helping them settle in and showing them where things are.
The team lead, Arne, was not a fan. He's repeatedly told Mr. Pine that he should fire you and seemed to go out of his way to remind you of everything you've ever broken. When you found out he was leading the team, you gulped and made yourself as small as possible.
When the Princess and her ensemble arrive, Arne directs your team to the servants' entrance where you stand in a line and wait for a box to carry inside.
Your heart drops when Arne hands you one of the bigger boxes with a huff. You almost drop it immediately because of how heavy it is.
"Careful!" he yells as you struggle. "And hurry up. Gotta make sure everyone does their share of the work."
"Yes, Sir," you mumble, finally getting a firm grip on the box.
Trying to hurry without rushing only adds to the difficulty of the task. If you rush, you're more likely to make a mistake but if you're too slow, Arne will yell and make more trouble for Mr. Pine.
You're so focused on your task you forget about the small threshold between the top of the stairs and guest rooms. As you feel yourself start to fall you know you can't drop this box! Not just for the Princess but for Mr. Pine as well! You can't embarrass him!
You're not sure how you manage it but you twist yourself so that the heavy box lands on top of you instead of the other way around. You get the wind knocked out of you but you didn't hear anything break! Well, at least not from the box. You're definitely going to be bruised from this. But you don't let that damper your mood. You saved it!
"Keep it moving!" Arne yells from the bottom of the stairs. "Ain't paying you to rest your fat ass!"
Getting up you try to respond but you breathing is still not easy so you focus on getting the box moved. It's much more of a struggle than before but you're determined.
"Here, let me help," Max, one of your team members steps up. "That had to hurt. Maybe you should sit?"
"No rest!" Arne barks, now at the top of the stairs. "If she can't keep up, she shouldn't be here. Besides, she's got plenty of cushion to pad her fall."
"Sir, it landed on top of her!"
"Well it's about time she learned how to not break anything important."
Trying to ignore the argument you try to get back to work carrying the heavy box. Your lungs are on fire and your vision is getting blurry but you're determined to prove yourself. To not embarrass Mr. Pine. To do your part.
As soon as the box is in place you work your way back down to the truck. Max walks with you, continually asking if you're ok. When Arne tries to give you another of the big, heavy boxes, Max grabs it for you.
"Please, sir, I really think she needs to rest," he implores.
"If she needs a rest after tripping over her own feet, she should be docked her pay!"
"That's not for you to decide," you hear Mr. Pine say. All three of you look to his direction. "Today is supposed to go perfectly but I'm already getting wind of complaints from Her Majesty's staff, concerned about the working conditions of the King's staff."
He pointedly looks at Arne who turns red in the face. "There were concerns about a hurt servant being forced to continue working under threat of losing employment. Which is strange to me because, last I checked, I'm the one who makes those decisions. And I have not threatened anyone. Yet."
"She's not able to carry the damn thing, so why should she be here?"
"Mr. Pine, if I may?" Max approaches. Mr. Pine gives a nod and he continues. "She was given a box that was recommended for two people to carry for safety's sake. She got it up there on her own, after tripping in such a way that the thing landed on her. I think she's earned some rest, if not a visit to the hospital."
Mr. Pine looks to you and finally notices your breathing is off and you look faint. He rushes over to you and starts making mental note of symptoms.
"You will sit," he orders you, walking you over to one of the lawn chairs.
"Please, Mr. Pine," you say between gasps. "I can still work. Don't want to ruin today."
"You have done nothing wrong," he asserts. "If anything--"
