Chapter 33: Washing

Elara stood outside the closed door of Nell's room, taking deep breaths to calm herself. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red, a mix of embarrassment and lingering sleep warmth. She pressed her cool palms to her face, willing her heart to slow its frantic beating.

"It's nothing," she muttered to herself. "Just a natural occurrence. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Despite her self-reassurances, Elara couldn't shake the feeling of mortification. 

Just as Elara had almost composed herself, the door swung open abruptly. Caught off guard, she stumbled forward, nearly colliding with Nell.

"Whoa there, sleepyhead!" Nell laughed, steadying Elara with one hand while clutching a bundle of damp sheets with the other. "No need to throw yourself at me. I know I'm irresistible, but really!"

Elara felt her blush deepen impossibly further. "Nell, I'm so sorry about... about running away like this. I don't know what happened, I've never..."

Nell cut her off with a dismissive wave. "You're acting like a kid. It's the most common thing in the world, duck. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

"Nell!" Elara hissed, glancing around nervously. "Please, keep your voice down."

Nell rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Alright, alright. No need to get all flustered. Come on, then. Help me with these, will you?"

Elara blinked in confusion. "Help you? With what?"

"Why, cleaning the sheets, of course," Nell replied with a mischievous grin. "If I make it dirty, I've got to clean it. That's the rule around here. And since you contributed to the mess, you get to help."

Elara's eyes widened in horror. "You can't be serious. Surely there are the person assigned or..."

Nell's laughter cut her off. "Person assigned? In the Anchor? Oh, you are a treat, duck. No, we do our own washing around here."

Before Elara could protest further, Nell grabbed her hand and began leading her down the narrow hallway. "Come on, it'll be fun. Nothing like a bit of manual labour to start the day right!"

As they made their way through the tavern, Elara was acutely aware of the curious glances thrown their way. The Anchor was already stirring to life, with early risers nursing mugs of strong tea or something stronger.

They emerged into a small, open alley behind the tavern. The morning air was crisp and salty, carrying the distant sounds of the docks coming to life. Nell dropped the bundle of sheets next to a large wooden tub and a cracked bucket filled with water.

"Right then," Nell said, rolling up her sleeves. "Let's get to it!"

Elara watched, feeling somewhat helpless, as Nell began to work. The younger woman attacked the task with surprising vigour, scrubbing at the sheets with a determination that seemed at odds with her usually carefree demeanour.

"Are you just going to stand there gawking?" Nell teased, glancing up at Elara. "Come on, those royal hands of yours could use a bit of roughening up."

Hesitantly, Elara knelt beside the tub. She gingerly picked up a corner of the sheet, unsure of how to proceed.

Nell laughed, not unkindly. "Oh, you really haven't done this before, have you? Here, let me show you."

With patient guidance, Nell demonstrated the proper technique for scrubbing, rinsing, and wringing out the sheets. Elara found herself oddly fascinated by the process, her initial embarrassment fading as she focused on the task at hand.

As they worked side by side, Nell regaled Elara with stories of life in the Anchor - tales of rowdy patrons, daring escapes, and the various misadventures she'd gotten into over the years. Elara found herself laughing more freely than she had in years, her sides aching from mirth rather than exertion.

"...and then," Nell gasped between giggles, "old Tom says, 'That's not me wife, that's a sea lion in a bonnet!'"

Elara collapsed into laughter, nearly upending the bucket of rinse water. As their giggles subsided, she looked at Nell with genuine affection. "Thank you, Nell. For... well, for everything. For making me feel welcome, for teaching me, for not judging me."

Nell's expression softened, a rare moment of vulnerability crossing her face. "Ah, well. That's what friends are for, innit? Besides, you're not half bad company yourself, once you loosen up a bit."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they finished up the last of the washing. Elara sat back on her heels, surveying their work with a sense of accomplishment. Her hands were red and pruned, her hair had come loose from its braid, and her borrowed dress was splattered with water, but she felt strangely satisfied.

"Not bad for your first time," Nell said approvingly. "You might make a proper Anchor girl yet."

Nell finished washing the sheets and turned to face Elara. She glanced down at her fingers, which were still wet from the basin water and sticky with her own cum.

Without thinking twice about it, Nell brought one of her fingers up to her nose and sniffed it lightly. The smell of herself on her finger made a shiver run down Elara's spine as she watched Nell inhale deeply before licking off the last traces of cum from between her fingers.

As Nell began to hang the sheets on a nearby line to dry, Elara found her gaze drawn to her friend. There was a grace to Nell's movements, a strength and surety that Elara admired. In her old life, she had never really known anyone like Nell - someone so unapologetically themselves, so free from the constraints of society.

Lost in her thoughts, Elara didn't notice Nell approaching until a damp sheet was suddenly thrust in front of her face.

"Oi, wakey wakey!" Nell laughed, waving the sheet under Elara's nose. "What's got you all starry-eyed, then? Thinking about your adoring fans from this morning?"

Elara blinked, coming back to herself with a start. "What? No, I was just... thinking."

Nell plopped down beside her, a knowing glint in her eye. "Thinking, eh? About anything in particular? Or should I say, anyone?"

Elara felt a blush creeping up her neck. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, come off it," Nell teased. "I saw the way some of those lads were looking at you today. And a few of the lasses too, come to think of it. Our little songbirds got quite the flock of admirers already."

Elara shook her head, embarrassed but also oddly pleased. "Don't be ridiculous. They were just... appreciative of the music, that's all."

Nell snorted. "Appreciative, my foot. I know that look when I see it. Trust me, duck, you've got half the Anchor wrapped around your little finger already."

Before Elara could formulate a response, a gruff voice called out from the tavern's back door. "Oi! You two planning on lollygagging all day, or are you going to earn your keep?"

They looked up to see Maggie standing in the doorway, her imposing figure blocking out the light from inside. Despite her harsh words, there was a hint of amusement in her mismatched eyes.

"Coming, Mags!" Nell called back cheerfully. She turned to Elara, offering a hand to help her up. "Duty calls, I'm afraid. Ready to face another evening in the illustrious Anchor Tavern?"

Elara took Nell's hand, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. "As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose."

As they made their way back inside, Elara felt a strange mix of emotions swirling within her. Excitement for what this evening might bring, nervousness about her new role, and a warm contentment she hadn't experienced in years.

Maggie met them just inside, her arms crossed but a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Well, well. Look at you two, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Ready to get to work?"

"Yes, Maggie," they replied in unison, exchanging a quick grin.

"Good," Maggie nodded. "Nell, I need you to help Barney in the cellar. We've got a new shipment coming in, and that old coot can't lift a cask to save his life."

Nell saluted dramatically. "Aye aye, captain! One strapping young lass reporting for heavy lifting duty!"

Maggie rolled her eyes, but Elara caught the fond look she threw Nell's way as the younger woman bounded off towards the cellar stairs.

"As for you," Maggie turned to Elara, her expression becoming more serious. "We need to talk about your future here at the Anchor."

Elara felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. "Of course, Maggie. What did you have in mind?"

Maggie gestured for Elara to follow her, leading the way to a small office tucked away behind the bar. As they entered, Elara was struck by the contrast between the cosy, cluttered space and Maggie's imposing presence.

"Sit," Maggie said, indicating a worn chair across from her desk. As Elara complied, Maggie settled into her own seat with a weary sigh.

"Now then," Maggie began, fixing Elara with an intense gaze. "This morning was a success, no doubt about it. But one good performance doesn't guarantee a future. If you're going to make it here, you need to understand what you're getting into."

Elara nodded, her back straight and her hands clasped in her lap. "I understand, Maggie. I'm willing to work hard and learn whatever I need to."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Maggie's face. "Good. Because let me tell you, girl, life in the Anchor isn't all singing and laughter. It's hard work, long hours, and dealing with all sorts of unsavoury characters."