kitchen_maid | In Room 203

The door opens, and Anne comes in with her arms full of flowers and a few books, which means she has to close the door very carefully with her foot.

"Hello, dear," she says, setting the items on her little desk, and coming over with a smile. "What's all this?"

"This is a dress. Or at least, it used to be," the Ordinary Princess says. "I'm afraid it's a collection of patches at this point."

She looks at a dress, a little sadly. She's very fond of this dress.

Anne takes the dress to look at it, and a patch falls off as she lifts it.

"Hm," is all she says, frowning.

"It's no good, Amy. You must have a new dress. What color and fabric would you like, and what pattern?"

She shrugs a little. "I afraid I don't know how to sew, really, just embroider. And I don't much about fabric, except that brocade doesn't suit me, or patters."

She smiles. "Yrael told me I should be wearing dark red or gold. Or white, but that's not a good autumny color."

"Oh," Anne sighs, imagining Amy in a deep red gown.

"Yes, that will be perfect. I'll get some fabric--do you think I can get some from the bar?--and I'll have to take your measurements, but I'll be able to start right away."

She takes the old dress up and lays it carefully out on her bed to use as a pattern, humming cheerfully. And without realizing that Amy might not know exactly what it is she's planning.

"Anne," she says, carefully, fidgeting with a necklace she wasn't wearing yesterday. She doesn't want to hurt Anne's feelings, but this is very very important to her. "I don't want you to make me a dress. But I'd very much appreciate it if you'd help me, or teach me, to make one."

Anne looks up, surprised.

"Oh!" She considers this.

"I'm sorry, Amy, of course! How thoughtless of me. Of course, I'll just teach you. How does that sound?"

"Thank you, Anne, I'd very much like that. So, what sort of fabric should I ask for?"

Anne thinks for a moment.

"Cotton is really easiest," she says. "We'll have to ask around and see if we can get it from Bar, or if you'll have to ask someone to get some outside."

"I think we can get just about anything from the bar, really," she says. "I'll be right back."

A moment passes, as she runs downstairs, and then she's back, arms full of deep red muslin, smiling very brightly. "Do you think this will do?"

"It's perfect," Anne says, beaming at her, and comes over to run her fingers over the fabric. She holds a piece of it up Amy's cheek, and looks pleased.

"And it suits you so well, Amy, look." She gestures to the mirror, and goes to find a pencil.

"And it's not purple," the Ordinary Princess says, sounding pleased. She got dressed in purple for seventeen years. She's really quite tired of it.

"I spoke to Bar this morning," she says.

"Oh yes?"

Anne comes back with a pair of scissor and a pencil, and starts ripping the old dress carefully into it's main pieces.

"Trace these out onto the fabric, for a pattern. What did you speak to her about, Amy?"

The Ordinary Princess follows Anne's directions carefully, but it actually quite pains her to see her poor old dress ripped up.

"About my being here. I asked her if she could get a letter to my parents, if she can, to explain where I am. And I arranged to have my tab paid, from the family funds. And I told her that the rent for this room is to come to me, and not you."

Anne stops, looking suprised.

"What? But, Amy, I can't allow you to do that! We're living together, aren't we?"

She shakes her head firmly. "No, Amy. I shan't let you pay the rent by yourself."

"Anne, please let me do this. You have been so incredibly kind to me," she says. "It's really no trouble at all. You have better things to spend your money on, and . . ." the Ordinary Princess pauses, looking for a tactful way to say this " . . . dear, I really don't have to worry about money."

Phantasmorania is pretty prosperous. And Amy's tastes are simple enough that it would take her months to spend what her mother can spend on a single dress.

Anne's jaw sets in a way that Gilbert and Diana and Marilla would recognize immediately. Stubborn Anne Shirley.

"I have to do something," she protests. "I can't just take this room for free, Amy. It wouldn't feel right."

"All right," says the Ordinary Princess. She does understand. See above, re: dress.

"I'll talk Bar again tomorrow."

It probably will not be a even split, though.

"Now, tell me what to do next with this fabric."

"Right," Anne says.

"Well, when you've finished tracing out the pieces, they can be cut out, and then there's quite a bit of sewing to do. I can help with that, if you'd like."

"Please," says the Ordinary Princess. Since they have now reduced her only dress to a pattern, finishing this one as quickly as possible is probably not a bad idea.

There's a flurry of cutting, and piecing, and basting, and hemming, and rather a lot of laughing.

Anne looks up with a smile, a measuring tape in her mouth, as she pins up the hem as Amy tries the pieced-together dress on.

"This will be lovely, Amy," she says, admiringly. "You have the same coloring as my Diana, and this color is just perfect for you."

The Ordinary Princess looks down at the half finished dress, and smiles. "I love it already," she says. "You'll have to tell me about your Diana."

"Oh," Anne says, with a fond smile, "Diana is my dearest of all dear friends." She looks up at Amy. "Youare dear, too, and so is Gil, but Diana is different. She was my very first real friend, and we swore to be bosom friends and love each other forever, and we've never had even one fight to mar it."

The Ordinary Princess smiles. "She sounds delightful. You're blessed to have such a friend." Anne is the first such friend she has ever had.

Anne stands from pinning the dress, and hugs Amy, careful of the pins sticking out in all directions.

"I truly am," she says, seriously. "And I miss Diana a good deal, but I have you, and you're my best friend, aren't you?"

"Oh, yes," the Ordinary Princess agrees, hugging Anne every bit as carefully.

"I'm truly glad I met you. And I think we should try never to have a fight, either," she says.

She may sound a little odd, there, talking about having a fight with someone.

"We never will," she says, firmly, but looks concerned.

"Amy? Dear, is everything quite alright?"

"Of course," she says, a little too brightly. And then the very fast subject change. "So, what do we do now? Surely, these pins need to come out."

"Oh, right," she says, and helps take the dress off.

"We have to sew very closely, and carefully, along the pins, and eventually we can tunr it inside out and it will be a dress!...I hope."

"I have the utmost faith in us," the Ordinary Princess says. "Well, I have the utmost faith in you. But I do know how to make small careful stitches."

"Good," Anne says, laughing, "because I am terrible with them. They're fine for a bit, until my mind starts to wander."

"And where does it wander to, when it goes?" the Ordinary Princess asks, beginning to carefully sew the panels of the skirt together.

"Oh, everywhere," Anne says, dreamily, her gaze moving far away.

"Countries I've never seen, people I've never met, myself in ways I'll never be."

She sighs, a bit.

"I wouldn't change you a bit, Anne," says the Ordinary Princess, quite loyally. And utterly truthfully.

Anne looks over at her with a smile.

"That's lovely of you to say, Amy," she says, fondly. "I'd not change you, either."

The Ordinary Princess looks up from the seam she is stitching, and gives Anne a slightly shaky smile. "Thank you, Anne."

Anne looks mildly surprised.

"Didn't you ever imagine yourself as different from you are?"

"Some, I suppose. But, then, everyone else did that for me. All the time."

"That's true," Anne concedes easily.

"Whereas no one ever had any expectations for me at all, except when they expected me to fix the meals or feed the children or do the chores."

"Oh, Anne, I'm sorry," she says. Because it seems childish to be hurt the fact that people who loved you didn't care for your freckles, when the person you're talking to didn't have anyone who cared for her at all.

"It's alright," she says, with a warm smile. "I had my imagination, didn't I? And it makes having my little family and a home of my own all the sweeter."

The Ordinary Princess smiles at Anne, quite warmly. "I always feel better when I talk to you, Anne. You can always see the good side."

Under ordinary circumstances, the Ordinary Princess is good at it, too.

"Well, it's more helpful than the bad side, isn't it?"

Anne looks out the window, thoughtfully.

"Yes," the Ordinary Princess says. "It is."

And then she begins to laugh, which she hasn't done in a few days. She holds out the skirt. "Anne, I think I'm doing something very wrong here."

Anne breaks out of her reverie and comes over laughing.

"All right. Let's see what we're doing, here."

It doesn't take Anne long to get the Ordinary Princess sorted out, threads untangles and fabric smoothed.

They're up most of the night, talking mostly nonsense, but silly and giddy and young and happy.

By the time they fall into their beds, the sun is only hours from being up, and they're both very tired.

But the dress is finished.

In Room 203

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