A/N: Thanks once again to reviewers: Suils Saifir and Lil' Dinky. I know both of you asked if Van was Varie's father...but I don't really want to answer because of the way the plot will play out. If I say yes or no, it would change the way the plot is looked at. It's not that it's not important, and it's definately a good question. But I want the plot to speak for itself. After all, I am working mainly in the timeline when Merle is 14. Varie won't even become a question for several years in the story. But I can confirm that she is only half Cat. Hence the no paws thing. I hope this chapter will help explain why Merle's daughter might be named after Van's mother.
Anyway...This is going to be a fairly long story according to my outline. A few twists and turns along the way. It might start to take me longer to update, because of University's iron grip upon me. But I will try!
I hope you all enjoy it!
Chapter 2:
Days passed, strung together only by the sleep cycles that Merle knew were not normal or healthy for her. A Cat needed naps and frequent ones at that. She had never been one for sleeping at night either. The night was her sanctuary, the time when her blood coursed hot through her veins; when her instincts turned to the hunt. Each day her muscles ached from work, but every time she started to whine or complain, she would see the tiredness in everyone's eyes. They were all losing hope.
Van hadn't had time to teach her any swordplay yet. There had been another raid, closer to their re-building this time. Another family had fled their makeshift shelter to come and stay with the group. The Pillagers were becoming ruthless, resorting to physical violence to get what they believed to be their right. As King, Van had put together a squad of men to patrol the perimeter of the shelter at all times. Having a guard meant that the most able-bodied were often very exhausted.
Merle spent her evenings pretending to snooze while she was really listening to the conversations of the workers.
"D'you think he has a plan?"
"- so little accomplished –"
"- think it's time to leave, there's nothing here for us."
"- lost cause…"
These furtive whispers clung to Merle's heart like children scared in the night. She played them over and over again, rotating between feelings of rage and pity for the people she spent so much time with.
One morning, before anyone else was awake, Merle saw Van staring listlessly into the morning fire, poking at it cathartically. She decided it was time to take action.
"Lord Van?" She began tentatively.
"Merle." He barely acknowledged her, preferring to take inventory of each and every twig in the flames.
"Lord Van, this isn't working." He remained silent. "The workers are tired and losing hope. We don't have enough food for them and –"
"You don't think I know that?!" He snapped. His eyes met hers and she saw the raw intensity in them, fear mingled with anger. "I'm trying to rebuild my country, and look – only fifty people come forward to help. Fifty! Traders don't come by, how can we barter? How, Merle?"
Merle could feel her bottom lip trembling and captured it with her teeth to stop the weakness. The anger she knew wasn't meant for her, but it hurt all the same. His eyes softened.
"I didn't mean to snap at you." Her eyes narrowed, blood growing hot.
"But you did. You're right, we only have fifty people. But fifty will eat all our food in a few weeks, and what then? Lord Van, we need to plan. It's starting to get cold."
"I don't know what to do…" he whispered. Instantly the catgirl was at his side, pulling him into a furry orange embrace. He looked so young, so vulnerable.
"It's you, Lord Van. The people will follow you anywhere. You need to talk to them. It'll all work out, you'll see." Watching his face, she could see a faint smile quirking the left side of his lips.
"You and Hitomi. Always the optimists." He said her name! Merle was in shock, but only for a moment. He hadn't spoken of her willingly in ages.
"Are you putting me in the same category as that scrawny girl?" She demanded teasingly, testing her limits on the subject.
"No. Never." He answered quickly and seriously. Merle tried not to let her heart plummet to her feet. She already knew where his affections lay, so why torment herself with false hope? He was still her very best friend, after all, she had no reason to be disappointed.
Van seemed to be deliberating for a moment.
"I need your advice. What do you think we should do?" Merle was taken aback. She had always been there for her friend for personal matters, but never been involved with matters of national importance. Beast People were not generally considered to hold the mental capacity for such things outside of tribe politics. It was part of the stereotypes on Gaea; there was great animosity between the beast people and the full-blooded humans. The beast people had lived in the wilderness, keeping away from cities entirely until around 100 sun cycles ago, if the records in Asturia and Basram were accurate.
Then Merle paused. She had some ideas, but Lord Van was the king, and who was she to order him around? But he was looking at her seriously and she could not disappoint him.
"Well…we're awfully low on food, so we're going to have to figure out a way to get more. We need better shelter, more insulated that's a must. We can't have our people freezing to death." Merle's cheeks flushed beneath her fur as his thoughtful gaze never wavered from her face. The intensity of it made the fur on her legs tingle and stand on end. She hurried to continue.
"I think that we should contact some of our allies, ask them for resources. It would be good for them too, right? Because of the relationship building thing?" She plowed on, unaware of the few workers that had begun to gather around the fire. "Then we should ask for sanctuary just in case we need it for the winter. Most Fanelians are likely staying in various countries until we get fully re-built. We'll need a way to send them messages to let them know how we're doing….and oh yeah, we should think about having an emergency plan." Van looked confused.
"Emergency? For what?" Merle looked at him blue eyes piercing through him. She lowered her voice.
"To get everyone out if we need to." He glared up at her.
"I'm not leaving Fanelia!" He ground out, posture grown tense. Merle stayed silent, worried that she had taken too many liberties with her 'advice'.
"You'd best be listening to yer friend yer majesty. She speaks wisely." Merle turned and was shocked to see most of their group surrounding them, Peter being the one who had spoken. Merle glanced at Van. She knew that his people, his country were the most important to him, and that he would do anything to their benefit. That he might have too much pride to know when to give up. She decided to take a chance.
"Lord Van, we should have a meeting! Everyone could say what they want, vote on it…"
"This isn't a democracy." His voice was firm, and she knew that he feared being outnumbered, losing his authority. If he lost it now, the people would fall apart. They needed him and he needed them.
"I know," she said softly, "but we're all here. Don't you think we all deserve a say?"
He looked at her then, and the directionless hurt look in his eyes pierced her heart. He raised his chin just a little before nodding grimly at her.
"A meeting. Right. I call a meeting tonight after work is finished, to discuss our future prospects here in the capital city, and for all of Fanelia." Many of those loitering by them nodded their head. "I want everyone to think of what is important to them, and we will address all your concerns. As your King I want what is best for everyone both now and in the future."
Those words struck a chord in Merle, chiming softly against an almost forgotten memory…
She thought back, and reasoned that she must have been just three rotations or so, a tiny kitten living in the overcrowded children's shelter on the outskirts of Fanelia. Her hair had been very pale then, almost white with the faintest tinge of pink. Her cheeks burned from the scrubbing she had just received from the nursemaid. They were expecting a visitor, the nursemaid had said. A very important one.
A carriage had pulled up, and the most beautiful lady Merle had ever seen stepped from the splendour of the royal carriage onto their modest dirt ground. Merle held her breath as the beautiful angel swept gracefully towards the shelter. The children were told to go play once the lady had entered the building. Intensely curious, the small kitten crept after the beautiful lady instead of following the other children. She was careful to avoid the two boards in the parlour room which were apt to squeak when tread upon.
Silently, she popped behind the cabinet in the parlour where the fine china was kept. The ornate designs carved into the solid wood were beautiful, but Merle's attention was drawn to a very different beauty. She peered around the corner to study the lady. She was tall with dark hair and porcelain skin. Her dress was simple, but even a little girl like Merle could see the commanding presence surrounding this lady like the haze that formed around the nearby pond each morning.
The Lady was murmuring to the Headmistress of their establishment.
"Of course King Goau and I will provide whatever assistance we can to these children."
"Thank-you milady," Merle heard the plump headmistress intone.
Something flashy caught Merle's eye. It was about the length of her hand and skinny. It dangled limply from one of the folds of the Lady's dress. Merle watched it, mesmerized by its movements and the way light was thrown off of it.
Merle liked shiny things. They reminded her of the beautiful necklace her mother had worn before….before what? She couldn't remember anything except the necklace and a feeling of all encompassing sadness. Then the shelter. No link in between.
The orange kitten inched forward stealthily, stalking her prey like a master hunter. In one swift movement, she snatched the shiny object and darted to the door.
The cries of the Headmistress assured her that she would be in deep trouble later, but for now Merle was searching for a place to hide and examine her treasure. The swishing of skirts were closing in on her, and Merle tried to run away, but her chubby little legs failed her. She was snatched up into a tight embrace.
Merle hissed and spat, scratching at her captor relentlessly. The arms remained solid, unwilling to let her go. As she realized her defeat, she began to sob, huge hiccupping heaves. She cried every last tear out of her body, not even really knowing why.
A soft hand began to stroke her face, caressing it lovingly. A gentle voice murmured into her ear;
"Beautiful girl, you must feel so alone." And just like that, Merle was clutching to the same skirts she had been opposed to just a moment before. They had sunken to the ground, and Merle looked into the eyes of the beautiful lady, wary.
The eyes that met hers were kind, loving.
"I have a little boy just a little older than you. Would you like to meet him?"
"No!" Merle was scared. Did the lady want to take her away because she stole the shiny object? Would she be locked up in a tower? She had heard stories where they did that to young girls.
"Okay, you don't have to." The voice was soothing, rising and falling in tone.
Merle heard the clacking steps that meant the Headmistress had caught up to them. She looked up and saw the outrage in her eyes. Merle lowered her head guiltily.
"I'm very sorry your majesty, young Merle here is always getting into so much mischief. You can rest assured that she will be properly punished for her crime." Merle hung her three year old head, fat tears threatening to glob down her cheeks. The lady stood up, keeping a hand on Merle's fluffy hair as she did so.
"Tell me Headmistress, what happened to this child's parents." Merle looked up, curious, but only saw a small shake of the head from the Headmistress. The lady knelt down and looked into Merle's baby blue eyes.
"Did you like my nail file?" She asked, holding the shiny pink object out for Merle to see. Merle wondered what a nail file was for. She nodded her head. "Well," the lady continued, "I have a deal for you. You can have my nail file in exchange for coming to live in my home."
Merle looked at the lady suspiciously. Why would she want her in her home? It was very confusing. But the nail file was very shiny…Merle hesitated. Finally she nodded.
"Your majesty!" The Headmistress exclaimed, as the Lady Varie handed the small trinket to the wretched little catgirl.
"This child has had a hard life. She deserves to be happy and free. I want what is best for her now and in the years to come."
Merle pondered that memory for a few moments. There were days when she had forgotten the fortunate instance that had led to her happiness and salvation. And to Van. Varie had been her saviour that day. Merle always wondered why she did not chastise her for stealing.
Van had always wanted to be a strong, sensible King like his father had been. But Merle saw more of his mother in him; gentle and kind and always reassuring. Certainly, he was still very insecure at times, but each of them was still growing up, still learning what it meant to be alive.
"Hello? Merle? You in there somewhere?" The voice that was capable of wakening her at a whisper was calling.
"Lord Van?" She shook her head, bringing herself to the present. She noticed that the crowd had mostly dissipated to accomplish some of their work for the day.
"You just spaced out for a bit." Merle flushed a little.
"I did not!"
"Airhead."
"Hsssss."
They stared at each other for a moment, before bursting out into undignified giggles.
"Well, I better get to work. Otherwise people will start calling me lazy." Van stood up, face flushed healthily with the remnants of a grin. Merle smiled inwardly.
"See you at the meeting!" Merle chimed, and scampered away from him. There had been a time where she could not be away from her Lord Van, even for a short, reasonable time. But Merle had done some growing when Hitomi was on Gaea. She saw how very independent the other girl strove to be, and saw that women did not necessarily have to rely upon men. She knew that she would see him later on, and that she would survive without his presence. That would be enough.
Merle felt giddy as she worked through the day. The sun was shining, beating down any negative thoughts she may have been inclined to have. A smile lit her lips, and she even took the time to play with some of the younger children in the chalk-coloured ruins of the streets. The sun made everything seemed bleached white, but for once, Merle didn't lament the lack of colour.
"Merle!" She looked up from her play, seeing Gertrude rushing towards her, a wicker basket in her hands. "Can you take this down to the river? I forgot to put my laundry in with everyone else's today, and I'm trying to watch the food that's cooking and the men that keep trying to eat my food and I just –"
"Gertrude, I'll take it down. Take a chill pill." Gertrude looked at her blankly. Merle grinned weakly. "It's just…an expression?" Gertrude didn't seem to be listening as she shoved the basket into the Cat's hands and turned back toward the shelter to begin yelling at a worker who had 'accidentally' gotten half a loaf of bread in his mouth.
Merle made a mental note to really think about the figures of speech she had picked up from Hitomi.
She began to hum as she followed the sunlit streets that would lead her to the river. The Capital City of Fanelia had a river on its outskirts: usually used by local farmers for agricultural purposes. Now, it was their main source of water for drinking and cleaning.
Merle barely paid attention to her surroundings as she walked. She saw the buildings that had been savaged by Zaibach, but no longer felt hate. All she saw was the whitewashed buildings. They were a little dazzling, reflecting the sunlight straight into her eyes.
Because of this, she didn't notice the figure directly in front of her until she had collided solidly with it.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" The voice leered as Merle gasped in surprise.
"Watch where you're going would you!" Typically, Merle tried to pin the accident on the other party, and tried to step around his bulky form. He grabbed her wrist.
"What's a pretty little thing like you going out all by yourself, hm? And in the ruins of Fanelia no less."
Merle hissed and dropped the basket. Her tail stuck out on end, and she was prepared to scratch the eyeballs right out of the sockets of this bastard. Whoever he was.
"Whoa ho! No need to get all uppity little lady. I'm just a poor man meself, curious as to the goings on in the areas I wander."
"Let me go!" Merle cried, getting more frantic as he tightened his grip on her wrist. He seemed to think about it for a minute.
"I don't think so." Dumfounded at such an answer, Merle forgot to struggle.
"Why not?"
"Because if I let you go, you'll run away. I want to chat."
"What kind of a Pillager are you anyway?" Merle asked, now staring at him openly. He was quite a bit taller than Merle, with sandy hair and warm brown eyes. A face that was Fanelian, yet not Fanelian.
"Not what you were expecting?"
"Um, well I don't know, I just – HEY! You let go of me right this second!" Merle resumed her hissing and scratching. The man just bore it silently, flinching only when she began to go for the tiny spaces in between his fingers. His grasp was relentless, unavoidable. Once she stopped to take a breath, he spoke again.
"So…you never answered my question." Merle glared daggers at him. Icy, needle-like daggers. With poison tips and serraded edges.
"What?" She ground out at last, when it was certain that he would not speak first. He smiled as if they were old friends having a perfectly jovial conversation over tea.
"What are you doing out here all alone?" Merle raised an eyebrow at his familiar tone. Both eyebrows went up in her effort, and she sighed, exasperated.
"I'm just trying to take this laundry to the river." He regarded her thoughtfully.
"You know, it's not safe to be wandering the ruins of a decimated city by yourself."
"I'll keep that in mind. Right next to never talk to strangers."
He chuckled at her comment.
"Fair point. I haven't introduced myself. My name's Gareth. Now I'm not a stranger. We could even be friends, you and I."
"Friends don't usually hold friends captive. It destroys the friendship." Merle tried to warm her glaring daggers, just a bit. If it meant she'd get away, she was prepared to do her worst: smile at him. But for now, a light glare would do.
"True." He seemed to deliberate for a moment, then released her. Merle snatched the basket off the ground, and took off for the river. His laughter haunted her all the way there.
Merle sat on the riverbank, giving the launderers a hand. There was no way she was heading back through the city by herself! She thought about how helpless she had been. She hated feeling like her life was in someone else's hands.
By the time the group was ready to head back to the city, clean clothes in baskets, ready for hanging, Merle was decided. Tomorrow she was going to begin lessons in swordplay, with or without Van.