Chapter 10: Before The Storm

When he came to, only moments later, he was sprawled on the floor. A sticky substance was trickling down his face and, as he brushed a hand across his forehead, he felt the cut open above his eyebrow. His fingers came away red.

The realisation came slowly, dawning gradually as he stared down at his crimson fingertips.

Haru… Wings… His friends…

Shouting awoke him from his daze. He raised his head to see the source.

Toto and Muta had put themselves between him and Haru, keeping the fairy firmly away from him. They were shouting, but so was Haru. She was keeping her wings tucked behind her, but her arms were scrabbling to get to him. He saw his name forming on her lips, cried out with fresh fear.

"I'm okay." Baron pushed himself to his feet, swaying and then righting himself as he grabbed Muta's shoulder. The world swam before his eyes in hazy disorientation, and then settled back into its rightful place. "I'm fine," he said.

"Did ya see what she did to you?" Muta snapped.

"No, but I felt it," Baron said. Subconsciously, a hand rose to the open wound, stemming the flow of blood. "It's just a cut, Muta. I'm okay. Please, let her go."

"No offence, but you have just been hit in the head," Toto said. "You'll have to excuse us if we don't assume you're thinking straight right about now." He glanced back to the fairy. "Humbert, she is a gryphon. She's dangerous."

"If she frightens you so, then perhaps you should leave," Baron replied, not unkindly. He dropped a hand to Toto's arm, gently prompting him to move aside. "For the risk is one I'm willing to take."

"I know you like to pretend you know what you're doing, but I really think you're out of your depth here," Toto murmured, but he stepped away.

Muta stared, incredulously, at Toto, and then threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "Fine. You wanna be stupid, be my guest."

Baron offered his non-bloodstained hand to the fairy. "Haru…"

Now that Toto and Muta weren't holding her back, a little of her fire appeared to have diminished. She started to take his hand, but then brought her arms back towards herself. "Baron… I'm sorry. Please, believe me… I never meant to hurt you. I'm so sorry…"

"It's my fault. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I should have listened."

"You're bleeding…"

"What, this?" Baron rubbed his palm against the wound sheepishly. "I've had worse. You should see the scars I have from the number of times I fell out of trees in my youth," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Broke my arm once, and twisted my ankle at least three times…" He trailed off as Haru gently took his hand and moved it away from the cut. Her eyes crinkled in shame at the blood slowly drying across his forehead.

"This is my fault."

Muta scoffed. "Yeah, we see that."

Haru's gaze jumped to the large man, recalling his presence, and then to his dark-haired counterpart. A tired kind of dread filtered back into her eyes; the kind of dread borne from a lifetime of fear of humanity. "I'm sorry," she echoed, repeating those words once more like a broken record. "But I can't stay here. I've already caused enough chaos, Baron. I'll just bring more trouble if I don't go–"

"And where will you go?" Baron demanded. "To the forest? The King knows you exist now, and he won't stop until he finds you."

"The forest is crawling with guards," Toto admitted.

"But he won't think to look inside his own walls," Baron continued. "Please, just think about it–"

"I have thought about it, but the forest is my home," Haru said. "I can't leave it to be torn apart by humans. I can't just run away from it. Would you abandon your home to save your own skin?" She motioned to Toto and Muta. "Would you abandon your friends, your family, your loved ones, if all the chaos was your fault?"

"This isn't your fault, Haru."

"No, but I am the reason the forest is in danger now. I have to go back." She stepped to the side, veering towards the window when suddenly her legs gave way. Baron closed the distance between them, forgetting to stay away in his haste to catch her before she fell. His hands grabbed her arms, and now her gaze dropped to the burns patterned across her skin.

"Haru, please… You're injured…"

Muta appeared behind him, peering around Baron's shoulder to satisfy his morbid curiosity. There was a hissed wince from the man. "Geez, kid; what did ya do to yourself?"

Haru drew her wings carefully about her, hiding away the worst of the scars.

"She didn't do anything, Muta," Baron said. "It was humans." He didn't want to elaborate, didn't want to shed light on the iron weaknesses of the fairies, and so he left it there. For good measure, he added, "Perhaps you can see why she's nervous around people."

"Okay, okay. Point made." Muta huffed and he dropped a hand into his pocket, pulling out an apple. "Here, kid. Ya look peaky."

Haru glanced to Baron, perplexed by the sudden change in attitude.

Baron smiled wanly. "Oh, don't worry about Muta. He likes to complain a lot, but actually he has a heart of gold. He won't mean you any harm."

"Unless ya pull a stunt like that again, kid."

"Muta, please."

"I'm not a kid," Haru retorted. Despite her blatant fear at being in such proximity with strange humans, she still managed a scowl at the large man.

Muta chuckled. "Fine, Chicky."

Haru scowled again, but evidently decided this was the best she was going to get out of him. She tentatively took the offered apple, and her gaze moved to the other stranger. "And what about him?"

Toto held up his hands in defeat. "It looks like I've been outvoted on this one. Fine, Humbert; I'll keep your secret, but we're going to have to talk about this."

Baron smiled weakly. "You'll have to get in line then." When Toto's expression didn't relent, Baron's smile faded into a tired seriousness. "Just for the record, Toto; I am very pleased to have your help. I really do appreciate this."

"Oh, well; I may be committing treason, but at least I'm being appreciated for it," Toto retorted dryly. "I'm sure that'll comfort me when I'm looking at a life in the cells."

"Look, I'm sorry you've been caught up in this mess – in all fairness, I did warn you not to investigate–"

"Perhaps we wouldn't have been investigating if ya hadn't been acting so darn suspicious," Muta said. "Subtlety really ain't your strong point, Humbert."

"Okay, a good point, but–"

"But what, Humbert?" Toto demanded. "Were we supposed to ignore your strange behaviour? Because goodness knows the royal guards weren't. Sooner or later, you were going to end up in trouble. Real trouble." He glanced over at Haru. "Although perhaps it's a little bit too late for such warnings."

"I have everything under control. All I need to do is keep Haru hidden until everything dies back down again, and then she can return to the forest–"

"And then this will all be over?" Toto asked critically. "You'll stop sneaking off into the forest for secret meetings with the fairies? Or is that going to be an ongoing thing?"

Baron hesitated. "I don't know." He looked over at Haru. "I'd like to carry on meeting up, even after everything else goes back to normal."

An instinctive smile twitched at her lips, betraying her true feelings on the subject, but she quickly stifled the smile. "I don't know. He's right," she said, nodding towards Toto. "This is dangerous for you. Perhaps too dangerous."

"Even she sees sense!" cried Toto. "Why can't you, Humbert?"

"Because it's my decision."

"No. It isn't. Look at how many people you've dragged into your 'decision' – your parents, Louise, me, the fatso, even the gryphon you claim to be protecting–"

"I had no idea it was going to escalate to this level."

"And if you had?"

"What?"

"And if you had," Toto repeated. "If you had known what was going to happen. What would you have done?"

Baron started to give the response he knew Toto wanted, but the words stuck in his throat. "If I had known what was going to happen right from the start?" he echoed. "Maybe not. But, standing here and now, I would not take back any of my decisions to help her."

Toto's eyes narrowed as he weighed the truth of his friend's words. Then he sighed. "I don't believe this. I really mean it: This is almost impossible to believe. That you, of all people, would be defending a decision to save a fairy – and a gryphon at that."

"Yeah, I mean, you've always been a bit of a pushover with people, but fairies were the one thing you never cared much about."

"A pushover?" Baron echoed. He looked to Toto, confusion laced in his eyes. "Do you share this opinion, Toto?"

His friend suddenly lost his confident stance, his face crumpling as if caught passing gossip. "Well, you've always been very eager to please those around you," Toto murmured. "When was the last time you said no, Humbert?"

"I…" How many times had he agreed to help at the Moon bakery? How many times had he run errands for Toto? And, when it had come to it, he hadn't even been able to ignore the pitiful gaze of the gryphon. His answer caught in his throat, and a strange seed of anger began to take root. "So that's what you call my kindness? A weakness?"

"No…" Toto made a face, as if this were a conversation he had hoped would never happen. "Look, we're not just talking about volunteering to cover a shift or two at the bakery. It's just… we've never really seen you stand up for yourself. We all know you'd prefer to turn the other cheek rather than ever hit back…" He shrugged and looked away, only momentarily glancing Haru's way. "I suppose it makes sense that the first time we saw you fight back, it'd be for someone else's sake."

"Yeah, let's just hope this sudden backbone doesn't get ya killed."

"I'll bear that in mind," Baron deadpanned.

"Anyway… we'll be going," Toto said. He grabbed the collar of Muta and hauled his friend out after him.

Muta pushed himself free, giving Toto a dirty look. "I can walk."

"What? Even with those stumpy legs?"

"Say that again when we're outside, ya stick insect."

The door swung shut after them, whereupon there was a heavy silence from the corridor beyond. Even so, after several stinted seconds Baron heard Toto hiss, "Idiot," to his companion. "Why did you have to call him a pushover?"

"You didn't have to agree, birdbrain!"

The voices faded as they descended the stairs, leaving Baron well and truly alone with Haru. He stared at the closed door, trying to gather his thoughts. The only problem was that there were so many different directions for his mind to run in.

There was a squeak of the mattress as Haru slowly took a perch at the end of the guest bed. The sound broke Baron from his thoughts, and he turned to face the gryphon.

"They're wrong," she said. Her eyes didn't meet his, but instead were cast down at the apple clutched in her hands. She rolled the fruit between her palms, a nervous tick. "It's not a weakness."

Baron sat down beside her; the mattress sagged at his weight and brought Haru's shoulders resting against his own. "What isn't?"

"Kindness." A frown buried itself into her brow, and her hands stilled even as her grip around the apple tightened. "It's not a weakness. It's a strength. A weak person values their own desires over other people's needs, but there is strength in caring for others."

"Actually, I have a bad feeling they may have been right in their assessment." He felt, rather than saw, her gaze turn to him as it rolled over with building disapproval, and thusly added, "About me, I mean. I'm not a fighter, I never have been. To be honest, what with everything that's going on… I'm scared witless." He hesitated, pointedly avoiding her gaze. "I guess… that's why I didn't tell you about my family. I'm sorry." He stole a quick breath, and rolled on before his guilt could stop him, "And there's something else you should know. About the night you were shot down."

"It was you, wasn't it?"

He finally looked to her, abruptly turning his gaze. "How long have you known?"

"Well, I wondered. You humans wander into the forest so rarely, so the chances that you would find me were, well… And now you've just dropped that line about there being something I should know, so… I guessed," Haru said. Her gaze focused on the apple Muta had given her, rolling it about between her hands again. "I'm sorry for freaking out earlier. It's just… all my life, I've blamed your king for my mother's death, and I guess… I guess I came to the conclusion that all humans were like that. But then, you turned up, and I wanted to be believe that… you were different. But you're just like all the others."

Baron's eyes found themselves focused on the apple Haru spun between her palms. "Like which others?" he asked. "Like Muta and Toto? Like Louise? Like my parents?"

Haru didn't reply.

"Because all those people have just put their lives on the line to keep you safe. I'm not excusing what has been done, because what my parents and I did to you and your family was wrong. And, yes, some of what we're doing is to selfishly alleviate our guilt, but…" He sighed. "I don't know how to finish that sentence. I suppose all I can say is… I'm sorry. And I will do everything I can to help you."

"Well then, tell me one thing. Did you help me because of your guilt?"

"What? No!"

"Because that would make a lot of sense. You know, why you decided to let me live, instead of doing what you've been taught to."

"No! Well, maybe it was at one point, but that's not why I'm here now!" Baron moved as if to take Haru's hands, but remembered at the last moment her aversion to contact. "Haru, I want to help you because I care about you. That's why. You're important to me."

"Really?"

Baron nodded. "I don't want to see you get hurt."

She smiled wanly, her eyes flickering down to the burns running along her arms. "Too late for that, I think." She shrugged, and a little of her playful spark rekindled. "But I appreciate the sentiment."

Baron didn't smile. "That's not funny, Haru. Those burns are serious."

"And there's nothing I can do about them, not even magic. Trust me; I'm a fairy – I know about magic." She brushed a finger along the marred skin. "There are worse things than being scarred."

Baron watched the movement, his guilt intensifying as he saw the burns in the light of day. Even if he hadn't been the one to cage her, his actions had still led to this. She was hurt because of him.

"Can we start again?"

The question slipped out before he could check it; Haru paused and raised her gaze to his, her head tilted curiously to one side. "Start what again?"

"Us. This." He motioned weakly to the two of them. "Can we start afresh and, this time, no lies and no secrets. I promise."

She smiled again, and this time there was a sincere gentleness in her eyes. "I like the sound of that."

"Thank you." Baron rose to his feet, and there was an unspoken sorrow that also rose as he broke contact away from the gryphon. He pushed the emotion and all its implications away. "I need to fetch something; I'll be back in a moment."

He returned several minutes later with a tattered black notebook in hand.

"Here. I believe you should have this."

He held out the little book to the gryphon. Haru glanced to it, then to him, and silently took the notebook with an air of solemn confusion. As she cautiously flicked through it, Baron began to explain.

"It has everything I know about fairies in it," he said. "Your weaknesses to iron and salt, your dependency on the trees… Everything that would make it too easy for humans to destroy your kind." He swallowed nervously. "It feels only right that you should keep it."

Haru paused in her perusal of the notebook, her fingers coming between two pages that held not his notes, but his sketches.

Sketches of her.

They were some of the last sketches he had made, made all the more plain for the fact that they captured Haru in her human form, not her feline one. Her fingers trailed over the laughing face that he had sketched from memory, drifting across the page until her fingers came to rest at a full-body drawing. It caught Haru in the moment where she had swayed above the world, tethered to the ground only by the topmost branches of a towering tree; in that moment where she had been a wild daughter of the forest.

"You would really give this to me?" she whispered. "But you've put so much work into this book."

"I don't feel comfortable keeping it. Not when it could do so much damage if it falls into the wrong hands. So it's yours now. Destroy it, keep it, it's your choice."

Haru's hand trailed once more over the page before she gently closed it and its secrets away. "Baron… Thank you."

"You can thank me when we're out of this mess," he mumbled.

She ignored his comment and drew her wings about her. She plucked a feather loose.

Baron yelped. "Hey! What are you doing?"

"It's just a feather." Haru smoothed it between her finger and thumb, and then offered it to him. "I can't give you anything like this notebook, but I can give you this."

Baron glanced to the gift dubiously. "A feather?"

"Will you stop looking like it's about to bite you and just take it already? And, for the record, it's not just a feather. I told you before – fairy gifts have power."

"What kind of power?" he asked. "Will I be able to fly? Turn invisible? Become invincible?"

Haru raised an eyebrow. "I said they have power, not that they grant superpowers." She shook her head in quiet disbelief. "Humans," she muttered. "Listen, this feather will lead you to me. If you ever need me, all you need to do is say my name and it will guide you."

Baron's humour faded a little. "Why does this feel ominous?"

"It's not ominous," Haru insisted.

"Yes, it is – this feels like you're going away for good!"

"I'm not." She hesitated, however, before continuing. "Look, I'm not stupid. I realise how much danger you and your family are putting yourselves in by doing this. I just… wanted to show my appreciation. And…" Again, she hesitated. "Well… one day, you may need my help, and I want to make sure that you'll be able to get it. Now do you understand?"

Baron glanced to the feather in his hand, filled with magic and promises. Suddenly, it seemed a far greater gift than his notebook would ever be. Why she kept trusting him, he didn't understand. "Please be careful, Haru," he murmured. "Or else your kind heart will be the death of you."

When there came no reply, he looked over to the fairy.

She was curled up on the bedcovers with her wings tucked about her, gently wrapped in the thrall of sleep.

Baron carefully rose from the bed and draped a blanket over the gryphon. He paused by her head, noting the pale pallor of her skin; a paleness that had settled in over the course of their conversation, but which he had only perceived now. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, quietly unsettled by the coolness of her cheeks. The iron burns and the distance from the forest were already taking their toll.

As he turned and reached the door, there was rustling behind him. There was a sigh, and a half-asleep mumble of, "My kind heart isn't the only one at risk."

By the time he had looked back, the fairy had already fallen back into slumber.

ooOoo

"How is she doing?"

Baron took the offered cup of tea from his mother and collapsed into a chair. "Okay, I think. For what she's been through… she's doing incredibly well." As he sipped at the tea, he became increasingly aware of his father's barely-suppressed curiosity. "Do you have any more questions, Father?"

"He doesn't."

"Yes."

Baron's parents eyed each other.

"We discussed this," Elora hissed.

"But think about this! This is could be the scientific breakthrough of the century! A chance to learn about the fairies' way of life, of their interactions, their very nature. This is a unique opportunity!"

Elora caught Baron's eye. "I don't know which is worse – that you're related to him, or that I chose him. Neither reflects well on us."

Baron smiled weakly. "Actually, I'd really not answer any more queries."

"See, Edmund? You've questioned the boy out!"

"It's not that," Baron quickly added. "It's just… I don't feel comfortable telling too much about the fairies, not even to you." He looked away. "To be honest, I probably know too much as it is."

Edmund lowered the notebook he had clutched in his hands. "Well then, I suppose I can't fault that." He smiled gently, but was clearly disappointed. "You've grown so much in the last week, Humbert."

"Thank you." Baron's smile faded as he thought back to their injured guest. "Mother, are there any more potions or salves you could make to help Haru? She's still too weak after the iron burns, and I think she's getting weaker as she stays away from the forest."

"I have a few concoctions I could try," Elora said, "but, by the sound of things, I really need one of those fairy flowers to make any real progress. But," she added, as she saw Baron's face fall, "I will do everything I can."

"Oh! Machida might have fetched a flower by now!" Baron rose back to his feet. "If I go back to the forest, then I can–"

"No!"

He halted at his parents' chorus.

"Humbert, the most dangerous thing you could do right now is return back there," Edmund said. "You've been in that forest more than anyone; if anyone sees you, then you'll become even more suspicious. No; I shall go in your stead."

Elora pinched her nose. "Why don't either of you ever think?" she muttered. "Humbert, you're not going because, like your father said, you're about as suspicious as a fox in a hen house at this point. And Edmund, you're not going because I know all you're thinking about is the chance to meet another fairy. Anyway, the forest will be crawling with guards at this point. So no one is going back to the forest tonight; tomorrow we shall discuss it, and see if there's a solution that doesn't involve raising the chances of convicting our family of treason."

"Yes, Elora."

"Yes, Mother."

"Good." She shook her head tiredly. "It's getting late and I believe we're all going to need a decent night's sleep for tomorrow. I think it's time we turned in. You too, Edmund." Elora eyed her husband. "No staying up into the wee small hours this time."

"But I haven't even finished compiling my notes!"

"Now, Edmund."

"Yes, dear."

She watched him slouch out, one raised eyebrow taking permanent residence on her forehead. "I swear, sometimes it's like I'm raising two sons…" She glanced over and saw that her actual son was still there. "Humbert?"

Tentatively, Baron pulled his mother into a hug.

For a moment, Elora didn't react, but then she gently returned the embrace, even if her son did take after his father in the height department. "What's brought this on?"

"It's a thank you. For supporting me through this, even though I'm putting everyone's lives in danger."

"What was I meant to do?" she softly asked. "I could hardly turn Haru away." She loosened her hold and stepped back to look up at her son. "Are you scared, Humbert?"

"No."

Elora tilted her head. The answer had come too quickly for it to be true. "It's okay to be afraid, my dear; fear just means you have something precious you want to protect. It's what we do with that fear that defines us." Her gaze moved past him, shifting in the direction where Haru lay sleeping in the guest room. "And look what you've done so far."

"But it was never this close to home," Baron whispered. "Louise, Muta, Toto, Father, you… You're all at risk now, and it's my doing. How can I possibly protect everyone?"

"You let others help." Elora shook her head with a tired, but affectionate air. "Do you really think that any of us will let you face this alone? Whatever happens tomorrow – and I have the feeling that the situation is going to snowball – we will face it together. Just trust me."

Baron nodded. "Okay."

Heavy knocking at the front door shattered the evening peace. Elora stepped away from her son and motioned for him to stay back. He lingered by the kitchen door, in sight but in the background, while his mother moved to greet their guests.

Upon opening the door, both von Gikkingens immediately focused on the blue uniforms of the royal guard. Two men filled the doorway, and Baron thought he recognised at least one from the last time the royal guard had paid their house a visit.

"Ah. What an unexpected surprise," Elora said. She moved so she was directly between them and Baron. "So, do you bring good news? Has a gryphon really been caught in the forest?"

"Elora? What's going on?" Edmund appeared at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a dressing gown and old slippers. "Do we have visitors?" He froze, halfway down the last step. "Gentlemen…" He eventually remembered to move, and slowly joined his wife. "What can we do for you?"

The taller of the two guards bowed, and the nervousness in the action unsettled Baron. It wasn't the manner of someone bringing good news.

"Baron von Gikkingen, Lady von Gikkingen… We apologise for this intrusion, but we have not come for you." The guard straightened, and the apology in his eyes as he focused on Baron made clear their real objective. "We have orders to bring your son, Humbert von Gikkingen, to the King, for questioning concerning the gryphon."