As Maggie Doyle woke herself up, she yawned and stretched her arms above her head.
The smell of stale beer and smoke filled the air, reminding her of the long night she had just endured.
She looked around at the dimly lit room, taking note of the empty bottles scattered across the floor and tables.
A faint light began to creep through the grimy windows as dawn approached.
With a sigh, Maggie stood up from her makeshift bed - an old coat thrown over a pile of hay - and made her way towards a nearby bucket filled with cold water.
She undid the buttons on her shirt and let it fall to the ground before stepping into the bucket with one foot.
The icy water sent shivers down her spine as she submerged herself fully, washing away any remaining traces of sleep from last night's festivities.
Once clean enough for another day's work, Maggie stepped out of the bucket and grabbed a nearby rag to dry off with it as best she could in this damp environment; As Maggie Doyle stepped out of the bucket, she reached for a nearby rag to dry herself off.
The rag was rough and coarse against her skin, but it would have to do in this place where luxuries were few and far between.
With one hand holding onto the edge of a table for support, Maggie lifted her left breast from its confines within her shirt.
She gently cupped it with her palm before running the damp cloth over its surface in slow circles.
Her nipple hardened at the touch as cool air hit it; goosebumps rose on her flesh as she continued massaging herself with determination.
Next came attention to be paid towards the right breast which received similar treatment – though not without some hesitation due to its recent encounter with an unsavoury patron who had tried (and failed) making advances towards Maggie earlier that evening at The Anchor Tavern's bar countertop.
As Maggie Doyle finished drying herself off, she turned her attention to the final task at hand: cleaning between her legs.
She knelt down on the cold, hard floor and spread her legs wide apart. Her fingers dipped into the folds of skin, feeling for any lingering dirt or grime that might have been left behind from last night's activities.
With a determined look in her eyes, Maggie reached for a small bottle filled with warm water and poured some onto a cloth she had prepared earlier.
Gently but firmly, she began to cleanse herself – first using soft strokes along either side of her labia before moving deeper inside where it was darker and more intimate; every now and then pausing momentarily as if taking stock of what needed done next before continuing onwards towards completion once more...
Finally satisfied that all traces were gone save for perhaps an occasional drop trickling down one leg Maggie stood up straight again feeling refreshed both physically & mentally ready.
After pulling on some worn-out trousers that hung low on hips already accustomed to holding weapons instead of belts or suspenders, she slipped into an old leather vest adorned by various pouches containing everything from coins earned during gambling sessions last night (or stolen) – alongside hidden daggers meant only for emergencies should things ever get too rowdy inside these walls again tonight!
Frowning, Maggie made her way down to the main room, her imposing figure causing a hush to fall over the gathered crowd.
To her surprise, many of the Anchor's regular patrons were already present, nursing mugs of ale despite the early hour.
"What's all this then?" Maggie growled, her mismatched eyes scanning the room suspiciously.
One of the older regulars, a grizzled dock worker named Tom, cleared his throat nervously. "Beggin' your pardon, Matranker. Young Nell called us all in. Says she's got a surprise for us - some new entertainment for the tavern."
Maggie's scarred eyebrow rose sceptically. "Did she now? And where is our Nell?"
As if on cue, a commotion near the back stairs drew everyone's attention. Nell appeared, grinning from ear to ear, practically vibrating with excitement. "Ladies and gents, prepare yourselves for the Anchor's newest jewel!"
With a flourish, she stepped aside to reveal Elara. Maggie's jaw nearly dropped at the transformation.
Gone was the prim and proper lady of yesterday, replaced by a vision that seemed to embody the very spirit of the tavern itself.
Elara's chestnut hair cascaded in wild curls, adorned with colourful ribbons that matched her provocative yet tasteful dress.
Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of nervousness and determination as she took in the crowd.
Maggie felt a twinge of concern. It had been barely a day since Elara had stumbled into the Anchor, a highborn lady had been lost, scared, and utterly unprepared for life in the rough-and-tumble dockside tavern.
Yet here she stood, transformed. Maggie wondered if this sudden change was truly for the best.
The tavern fell silent as Elara took centre stage, her transformed appearance already causing a stir among the patrons.
She took a deep breath, exchanged a quick glance with Nell, and began to sing "The Wily Tavern Maid."
As the first notes of the melody filled the air, Elara's clear, trained voice carried throughout the room.
She infused each word with emotion, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she sang about the bustling tavern and its cheeky maid.
"In a bustling tavern, 'neath candlelight's glow,
A wily young maid danced with a cheeky bravado."
Nell, playing the part of the tavern maid, twirled into view, her apron indeed stained and her laughter infectious as she mimed serving drinks to nearby patrons.
As Elara launched into the chorus, her voice swelled with confidence:
"Oh, the wily tavern maid, her eyes like fine ale,
She served up more mischief than stew in a pail."
Nell winked exaggeratedly at a blushing patron, then mimed stealing his coin purse with a playful giggle. The crowd chuckled appreciatively, already captivated by the performance.
Old Tom leaned in, whispering to his neighbour, "By the gods, I never thought I'd hear such a voice in our humble Anchor!"
His friend, a weathered sailor named Gus, nodded in agreement. "Aye, she's got the voice of an angel and the look of a siren. Mark my words, this one's going to bring trouble."
For the first verse, Elara moved through the audience, her gestures becoming more animated:
"Her hair, a wild cascade of chestnut delight,
She'd weave tales of pirates and moonlit fights."
Nell dramatically flipped her hair, then leaned in close to a young man, whispering conspiratorially as Elara sang:
"The blacksmith's son blushed as she poured him his mead,
Whispering riddles and promises of daring deeds."
As they repeated the chorus, the patrons began to join in, their voices creating a rowdy harmony that filled the tavern with energy.
Maggie watched, her expression inscrutable. The girl's highborn training was evident in the quality of her voice, but there was a raw energy to her performance that spoke to hours of coaching from Nell.
She hit the high notes with ease, then dropped into a playful growl for the more risqué lines, drawing appreciative chuckles from the crowd.
For the second verse, Elara's voice took on a more mysterious tone:
"When the clock struck midnight, she'd slip out the door,
To rendezvous with a highwayman, swift and sure."
Nell mimed sneaking away, then meeting a cloaked figure (played by a grinning patron who'd been pulled into the act). Elara continued:
"Their coded messages hidden in tankards of stout,
Love notes disguised as darts—oh, what a rout!"
Nell and her "highwayman" exchanged exaggerated glances and passed notes in empty mugs, drawing laughter from the crowd.
A young sailor in the front row, clearly smitten, called out, "Sing it again, love! Your voice could calm the stormiest seas!"
His enthusiasm was met with good-natured jeers from his companions, but Elara acknowledged him with a playful wink that set his cheeks ablaze.
As they launched into the bridge, Elara's voice softened, becoming almost dreamy:
"Beneath the moon's silver gaze, they'd meet by the oak,
He'd whisper of treasure maps and smugglers' cloak."
Nell and her partner mimed a romantic encounter, with Nell suddenly breaking away to dance wildly as Elara sang:
"She'd laugh, toss her apron, and dance on the grass,
Two rogues entwined, their secrets a sweet, heady glass."
For the final chorus, Elara pulled out all the stops, her voice soaring as she encouraged the entire tavern to join in.
Nell danced through the crowd, stealing hats and planting cheeky kisses on cheeks.
As the last note faded, Elara and Nell stood back-to-back, breathing heavily but grinning from ear to ear. The tavern erupted in cheers and applause, with several patrons calling for an encore.
Nell rushed to embrace her, both of them laughing with joy and relief. The patrons crowded around, offering compliments and begging for another song.
Maggie made her way through the throng, her expression unreadable. As she approached, the crowd parted, falling silent in anticipation of the Matranker's verdict.
Elara straightened, meeting Maggie's gaze with a mixture of hope and defiance. For a long moment, Maggie simply stared at her, those mismatched eyes seeming to peer into Elara's very soul.
Then, to everyone's amazement, a slow smile spread across Maggie's scarred face. "Well now," she said, her gravelly voice carrying clearly in the hushed room. "Looks like our little falconer's found her wings after all."
The tavern erupted once more in cheers as Maggie clapped a hand on Elara's shoulder. "Welcome to the Anchor, lass," she said, loud enough for all to hear. "I reckon you might just fit in here after all."
As the celebration continued around them, Elara felt a wave of relief and belonging washed over her. She had done it - she had found her place in this new world.
And as she caught Nell's eye across the room, both of them grinning like fools, she knew that this was just the beginning of her adventure at the Anchor.
However, amidst the jubilation, Maggie's keen eyes caught sight of a hooded figure slipping out of the tavern.
A flicker of concern crossed her face. The Anchor's newfound star might have brought in a full house, but it had also attracted unwanted attention.
Maggie made a mental note to increase security and keep a closer watch on Elara.
As the patrons called for another song, Elara took a deep breath, ready to pour her heart out once more.
But even as she began to sing, a part of her wondered how long this newfound happiness would last.
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