Work Text
Cettie blinked once, twice trying to focus her sight on what she knew would be a gorgeously embroidered duvet siting on a masterfully hand-carved four poster bed. Her eyesight was blurry with sleep and her eyelashes were hanging heavy with unshed watering tears. She was not a morning person. Not in her before-life or this one. As any other sane person in the world Cettie would have killed for a decent cup of coffee. She would have even sold her soul to Satan with just the tiniest bit of persuasion needed and no extra fuss. People apparently frowned at giving a 4 year old coffee. Even in the seventies. Which to the 21st century Cettie was mind-blowing. To her, the decades before 2000 was a sort of mystical land where giving alcohol to fussing toddlers was a commonly held medical practice. She was totally cheated, why couldn't she have come with a stamp somewhere that said "mentally old enough to be given anything she's asking for". God, it was such a mind-blowing feeling to live in another century. What made matters even worse was that she was terrible at history, the irony of which Cettie let swirl around her mouth like decades old decadent red wine. The kind she always told herself she'd buy to try so she had to appreciate it.Cettie heard a soft knock from the vague direction which she knew was where the door to her room was situated. Her nanny called out with a soft "Miss." before her light footsteps entered the room. Oh yes, she didn't mention yet did she? Cettie was now the bonafide young miss of an incredibly rich family. Celestia Laura Rockefeller, named as a keepsake for her late great grandmother, a philanthropic school teacher who fought for the right of young african-american women to education in a time where Martin Luther wasn't even born. Cettie always felt her heart swell in her chest at the thought. She had always wanted to make a good impact on the world and maybe her given this second chance at life was just that. Cettie's great grandfather, John D. Rockefeller was a self-made man. He founded the most successful company in all of U.S.A's history, the Standard Oil Company, before it was subsequently dismantled by the government into over 30 sub-divisions. What was truly amazing was how her great grandpa became even richer after the event, some of those sub-divisions tripling in worth afterwards. In contrast to what the world might have expect out of America's richest family, they were the biggest philanthropists on the continent. They donated to a variety of causes constantly and they took a very active role in charity work. Every member of the extended family was involved in some charity or other. The kids were taught to donate from their weekly allowances to the church's various fundraisers for homeless people.
Cettie was very awe-filled at the thought of the as-a-matter-of-course kindness her family showed to those less blessed. Even the mansion they resided was very low-key tasteful. The kind of house that was built by a family history. It was spacious but not to the point of being wasteful. The furniture was all sorts of heirlooms, delicately sculpted and incredibly detailed in rich-colored fabrics and embroideries, the kind that was inherited and very well-cared for and even though they employed staff, the family members still chipped in with cleaning and cooking.
Cettie herself was supposed to keep her bedroom tidy as to not give extra work to her nanny. The nanny who was becoming more and more impatient as Cettie continued dazing off. Cettie smiled sheepishly and told her "I'm sorry Miss Bennet."
Cettie got out of the bed and tried to tidy the blankets and pillows as well as she could but the midgetness that haunted her existence meant it was just a well-meant gesture. Her nanny chuckled and said "Forget that, come let me help you dress for breakfast."
In the Rockefeller household breakfast and dinner usually was eaten together. Rare were the times when all the family was together to eat at home since they were all involved in different work fields and had all sort of professional commitments. Cettie brightened up at the thought of meals. She loved eating together with her family, acting like the cutest, most heart-melting kid in existence. Her father in this life was this ditzy, loving and naive man that Cettie had no idea could exist past the age of 30. She vaguely remembered from-the-before that everyone internally died somewhen in their twenties, emerging from the cocoon of bad decisions and impulsive choices as the bad Frankenstein-butterfly rendition of what everyone interpreted to be an adult. It was probably a side-effect of growing as a well-protected and well-loved child of an incredibly rich family.
Her grandfather on the other hand was probably one of the most charismatic and intelligent persons she has ever met. And that meant a lot considering that in her before-life she worked as a deputy in a small european country which meant meeting a lot of charmingly good liars. Cettie's head started pounding at the sparks of irritation that ignited in her chest. Nothing could quite start her off like corruption in governments or make her nearly as fired-up as unequal opportunities and manipulation of funds. Jesus, Cettie stopped and recouped her thoughts, she sounded just like one of those mind-washing communist campaigns. "Help the motherland help you, come tell the secret police everything you know." said in that annoying announcer voice that should be banned based on how chipper and happy it sounds. Disgusting.
So maybe Cettie still had a chip on her shoulder but well she was just gonna use it to do good in her new life. Or become a wasteful rich heiress. She heard it said before that money corrupts and oh boy, she could never go back to low-count thread cotton sheets.
After Miss Bonnet dressed her up, Cettie clasped their hands together doing a cutesy little swing, now that she was back to being young enough for it to be socially acceptable, and descended the marble and dark, rich wood stairs into the dining room where the family table was set. There was another table set in the kitchen for staff members since family time was a very intimate kind of affair. To be honest this all affair kinda reminded her of the mafia. "Family is all that matters." said in The Godfather accent by her grandfather. Oh geez, perfection.
Cettie realesed her nanny's hand and started running with a mad grin on her face towards where she knew her father was leaving behind a vaguely scandalized "Miss..." scream behind. Cettie made a beeline for her father's chair and started fluttering her arms around in a very animated request to be picked up. She bet she was like the cutest ever. Asides from strategical cutesy points the request was not just for her gigantic, oozy and smelly vanity, her dad gave the absolute best hugs ever. The kind where you just melt into the other person and you can feel the perfect amount of warmth and a lot of love. Her dad gave one of his carefree laughs and picked her up, seating her on his lap. He secured her with one arm and with the other he already started adding all of Cettie's favorite foods to his plate. It made Cettie smile in happiness and the knowledge she was very loved. In her before life she had no dad. Which was ok, she grew up to be a very well-adjusted and sane adult. Clearly.
Her grandfather gave a cough and frowned, clearly unhappy about something. Cettie looked towards her grandpa and beamed him with her patented "cutest granddaughter in the whole universe" that should probably be classified as a weapon of mass-destruction seeing as it caught in it's blast radius her cousin and her aunt too.
Her grandpa glanced somewhere in the vicinity of the space on top of her head and deepened his frown. Cettie turned her head to glance at her dad who was smilingly peering at her face. Cettie kinda melted inside over what an angel her dad was and shrugged off the whole thing. She turned back to her grandpa to wish him a good morning.