Catching the Canary

She hadn't returned to the library, and she did not turn up for tea. And when she finally showed herself at dinner, it was like their first dinner all over again—she would hardly respond to anyone's attempt to make a conversation with her, and the only difference was that, thankfully this time, she had shed the hostility.

This was exactly what Arnold had been trying to avoid, and the reason he always reminded himself to be so careful with her. But now despite his precautions, their relationship had gone down the path he most wanted to keep away from, and he knew he had only very little time to act, before it was too late and she had made her mind up to throw away what he spent so much passion and patience in building, forever shutting him out of her heart.

He was waiting for the right moment, which started to look more and more like it was never going to come. First it was Adelaide who, before departing after dinner, took her time in berating Natarle for her poor hospitality. Then it was Stellar and Fllay, on their way to the drawing room, attempting to cheer her up but with no avail. Even Mwu was trailing closely behind them, clearly waiting for a chance to jump in and do the same himself. All Arnold needed was a little time with her, alone, so that he could explain himself and earn back her favour. But when they had reached a staircase she took a quick turn and two steps up, ready to go the full distance if Mwu had not called out to her and stop her in her tracks; her destination, it seemed, was not the same as theirs, as they had all naturally assumed.

"Natarle, are you not joining us in the drawing room?" Mwu asked.

Arnold caught her eyes flitting towards him before focusing on Mwu, and Mwu reflexively mirroring her reactions, locking eyes with Arnold for one fleeting moment, immediately suspecting.

"I'm not feeling too well tonight, may I please be excused?" Her honest eyes told that it was a genuine request for permission, and not a question to mock Mwu's nosiness, but that only made her request all the more unusual. Of all the people in this house, she was the one who had the least need to ask for permission for anything; she only had to say the word and it was done, no questions asked. Not only that, but knowing Natarle, ever so insistent on keeping etiquette, deciding to leave her guests without her company in the drawing room only had two possibilities: either she really was unwell, or that the discomfort she felt when with their company was too much, it simply could not be ignored or tolerated anymore—like she had been able to when they first arrived—and she was trying to flee. Seeing how she already ran away once in the afternoon, Arnold could have bet on his life that it was the latter.

Mwu took one step up the staircase, and he being taller than her, already meeting her eye to eye. He laid a hand on her forehead, checking for a temperature, then lowered his hand to her cheek and kept it there as he asked with unusual softness, "You don't seem to have a fever. Do you need me to get Doctor Clyne?"

She raised one hand and held his wrist, undecided if she were to pull it away or keep it there, but she did manage to swing her head ever so lightly to refuse his offer. "I'll be fine, I just need some rest."

Watching closely every little bit of the interaction between the two, Arnold felt a surge of jealously rush through his core. He understood fully that Mwu was only caring about Natarle as a cousin should, but this trust between them was the exact thing he was aching for, and seeing it happen so effortlessly between them made him feel a sudden, unfounded hatred against his best friend. He was being ridiculous, and he knew it, but he would rather admit it than pretend he did not want to be the one standing in that place now, instead of Mwu.

"Alright, it's bedtime for you now then," Mwu urged as he let go of her.

"Hold on," Arnold called to them. "Natarle, there's something I need to talk to you about. May I please have a moment?"

With her shifting herself to hide behind her cousin, she need not say it out lout to give her answer, but she said it anyway. "I'm sorry, but can we speak another time? Perhaps now is not the best time for me."

"Let her rest, Arnold," Mwu intervened, an unusual coarseness overlaying his voice. Taking this as her cue, Natarle eagerly climbed up the stairs and disappeared around the corner like a rabbit that had just escaped the claws of its predator. Arnold shot Mwu a glare, but he was unmoved.

"So what was that all about?" Mwu questioned in a mildly accusing tone once she was out of their watch. "And don't say you don't know what I mean, because I know her better than you two do, and I would have to be blind to not notice the way her behaviour changed towards both of you. She could hardly look at either of you in the eyes." He eyed Murrue briefly, and—with much bias—deciding the fault was unlikely hers, he turned back to Arnold. "What have you done to her?"

Murrue glanced over to Arnold, but he looked too annoyed with Mwu that it was unlikely he would be giving the explanation Mwu required from them. She knew from experience that when the boys fought—when they truly fought—they were both impossible to deal with, and this was where she came in, no choice given whatsoever. "Well," she spoke sheepishly, "it wasn't exactly what we'd done to her, just what we'd done. She saw us in the library together and mistaken that we were, well, lovers."

Mwu raised an eyebrow, taking a long moment's thought to digest the information and conclude that it was actually quite humorous. "Oh," he suppressed a chuckle, now obviously more relaxed. "Her mind works in funny ways sometimes. Sorry about that, Arnold. But you can't blame me; she's my cousin, I'm supposed to look out for her."

For Arnold though, it was much less amusing. "Don't laugh," he complained. "You may be glad to know it's just a misunderstanding, but try explaining it to her. She won't even let me talk to her, no thanks to you. It'll only get worse if I don't clear this up soon."

The blond shrugged. "Would you like me to help?" he offered lightly, though his voice told he wasn't serious about it anyway—Arnold was not the kind of person who would ask for others' help in situations like this.

Mwu had been right; Arnold looked at him, then turned his head away dismissively. "No thank you. This must be something I do by myself."

His mind started racing, trying to piece together a plan that would help him catch this fluttery little bird.

o-o-o

She missed the library.

Never once since the discovery of her haven had she ever passed a day without visiting the place, and the brief entry—one step only into its boundaries and an immediate retreat—did not count. It was not that she didn't want Arnold sharing her favourite place; she was the one who welcomed him during his first few visits, and it would be unfair if she kicked him out because she was too embarrassed by what she saw. It was just that the scene she saw was too much for her, and if she'd ever walk into another one the next time—good Lord, she did not even want to think about it anymore, because for the briefest of moments the memory skittered across her mind, and it already sunk her heart into a deep, dark pit that made her feel too ill to consider revisiting it.

And now, her need to see the library was as a baby bird's need to return to its nest, and her need for her books was as its need for food. She was desperate; locking herself away in her bedroom for the whole day had exhausted her of the last unfinished title she had at hand, and she must return to the library to refill her stock, or risk dying of boredom in the following days to come, which she planned on continuing hiding in her quarters.

The corridors were dimly lit; her only sources of light were the moon shining through the window and the small flickering flame of her lantern. She took each step lightly and carefully, because she couldn't shake off the bad intuition that she would be caught by something, someone, hiding in the shadows. She wasn't afraid she would be disturbing anybody; everyone should be asleep at this hour, and there were no guest rooms at this end of the house anyway. Though somehow, she could not help but feel slightly ashamed by her own actions, sneaking around the house in the dark, like little mice, when there were better times in the day to do this.

When she was finally standing in front of the library, she felt an unexpected wave of relief, even when she knew her mission was only half-accomplished. She held her breath as she opened the door, and cringed a little when it creaked at the hinges. Tucking her head in she scanned the room quickly—good, there was nothing amiss—and she allowed herself in.

The woody scent of her books and bookcases rushed towards her as if welcoming her return, and she inhaled greedily; it was as though she could finally breathe again—since when had she been feeling this inexplicable suffocation? Ah, yes, she knows now; it was when she stepped into this same room earlier today—she reined her thoughts, reminding herself again the very reason she was here now. She made her way slowly towards her favourite place by the window, and upon reaching it, she set her lantern onto the table, and turned around to face the shelf. She ran her fingers delicately across the spines of the neatly aligned books as though they were her long lost friends, at the same time letting herself a quiet laugh at her own silliness. Only half a day, and she was already wistful for them? She must be overthinking and dramatizing things.

"Hello, Natarle," a crisp yet deep voice cut through the dark silence like a well-honed blade. She jumped and suppressed an instinctive yelp, half because she had genuinely been startled, the other half because she recognised the voice. She cursed herself; no, she was not overthinking things, and yes, half a day was too short for an escape. Her name spoken in his voice, she remembered, sounded beautiful, and a mere few hours was far from enough time for her to forget that.

He was clever, she had to give him credit for that. He knew to sit away from their usual corner, where the moon rays hit and brightened for her to see. He hid under the shadows, so she would not notice him until she was too close to withdraw.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded with as much dignity she could muster.

"Waiting for you," Arnold answered smoothly. "What are you doing here?"

Waiting? That did not make sense; why would he be waiting for her at this hour? But she didn't have time to dwell on that thought; his stare was intense, and she stammered, not quite sure what her answer should be, "I- I was-"

"Hold on; actually, don't answer that; let me guess. You are here because you were down to the last third of your book before today, and must have finished even that when you hid in your room for the entire afternoon and evening. You need a new one. You had to be coming back soon. Better now than during daylight, when you'd rather be alone. Am I correct?"

Very. How did he know?

It was as if he could read her mind by merely looking at her, because the triumph in his smile said 'I simply know'. He was, however, generous enough to enlighten her. "I know because I pay attention to every detail of you. Every word you say, everything you do, every smile, every frown, everything."

She stared at him with confused disbelief. "Why would you need to pay attention to me?"

He huffed. "Do you not know at all?" He sounded exasperated, which was odd, because how would she know why he paid attention to her when she did not even notice he was paying attention to her? "Tell me first," he quickly followed, giving her no time to mull over his first question. "Why are you avoiding me?"

She felt her face burn. "Why would I be avoiding you in my own house!" As soon as the words left her, she covered her lips with her fingertips, taken aback by herself; she had intended it as a question, so how did it come out sounding like a reprimand?

"If you aren't, then why did you not come back to the library in the afternoon like you usually do? Why do you instead come here at such a late hour?"

"I didn't… want to disturb you two! You were having such a lovely time together, and it was rude of me to come barging in like that… I- just wanted to… let you two… um, take the time you needed."

"If I'm not mistaken, by 'you two', you mean Murrue and me?" He still wore a calm face, yet there was an undertone of impatience in his voice. Oh, good heavens, was he angry? What had she done that angered him? Had she not already said it was not intentional that she walked in the wrong moment?

She had never seen him this way; something of it reminded her of snowstorms, and she instinctively knew she should be afraid. Her pulse was running fast, and she hastily shuffled through her day's memories attempting to find another encounter that might explain his resentment towards her. When her mind came back from the search empty-handed, she panicked. That was the reason then.

"I really am sorry!" She backed one step; should she leave, and maybe come back another time when he was no longer cross at her? Or should she just brace this, and hope that once he was finished, they could go back to being friends? She remembered his kindness, something she had become accustomed to; that, she now understood, was supposed to be reserved for someone else, and he probably decided he was no longer sparing her any. How very lucky, Murrue was, to have this man's complete love and devotion. And all she was asking for was his friendship.

She was not jealous; jealousy was a malicious emotion, yet she would never wish ill on either of them. But then, how does one define this feeling she had: the inconsolability in the yearning of something that she could never rightfully have?

However it was defined, it didn't really matter; it was not going to change anything. She hung her head low; she wasn't sure she would be able to hide away the regret she felt when saying the words that were to come, but at least he would not be able to see it. "You and Murrue, you two are a perfect match. I… I wish only the very best for you two."

A long moment passed; a very long moment, amplified by emptiness of the night, that its deafening silence almost hurt her ears. She did not dare to look up.

And that was when he sighed. A heavy, frustrated sigh, of controlled anger and relief, that stretched on until all of those emotions had been expended. When he spoke again, he sounded morose still, yet much more consoled. "You've got it all wrong."

Wrong? How? Her head shot up and she found her vision being monopolized by his emerald eyes, already too late to look away—there was a certain desperateness in his visage that made her want to apologise for no apparent reason.

He let out a shorter, smaller sigh. "Can you not see that the person Murrue is in love with is your cousin Mwu? And him with her? She is my friend; one that I've known for longer than I can remember, but I am not in love with her. I'm in love with you."

She blinked blankly; she must have heard wrong.

"Natarle, I have fallen in love with you."

The joy that overwhelmed her was so intense that it felt almost like relief. She must have forgotten to breathe for a while, because she the next thing her mind registered was that she had been gasping for air.

But suddenly her thoughts shifted, and all of the joy quickly dispersed, leaving an empty space where the fear from the pit of her heart emerged into its place.

The fear slowly took its form—baby blue eyes, platinum blond hair, and flawlessly pale skin; what angels should look like, only that he was not one. But she still remembers him. Vividly. And she remembers her fear—fear of the inevitable, of the destructive nature of her own existence, of her powerlessness when it came to any sort of sentiment even vaguely resembling love.

"You- you can't… You shouldn't. I'm not right for you. You just… can't."

His brows pulled together in a slightly wounded manner, but not one bit dissuaded. "Do you not love me?"

Of course she loved him—she had that figured out already earlier today—and that was exactly the problem.

"You are a very good person, the most wonderful I've ever met, in fact, and I don't think I'll ever find anyone else that could be what you are to me, which is exactly why. I can't do this to you. You deserve someone beautiful, innocent and pure, someone who-… Someone who is perfect."

"But you are exactly all that," he said with his dark, velvety voice, sincere, tender, and convincing all the same time. "To me, you are perfect. You are kind, intelligent, strong-willed, everything I want in the woman I'd like to love. You are innocent and pure, like winter's first snow. And you are beautiful. Blindingly so, that every time I look at you I can't think of anyone else; or anything at all—except that I love you—for that matter. You don't realise that, do you?"

"No I don't," she blurted out without thinking, immediately regretting how obtuse she sounded, yet secretly pleased at the chuckle it drew from him. Oh, but this was not the time for delight, because he was walking right into the worst mistake he was ever going to make, and she needed to stop him. She looked up to him ruefully. "Nor am I any of the things you say I am. I'm not perfect. Not beautiful, not innocent, not pure. What I am, is cursed."

He looked lost, which was expected, because he wouldn't have known. "All those who are close to me, they suffer, get hurt, or even die," she explained, "Mama, Pa- Father, others. You will too, if you come too close."

"Fllay and Stellar look fine to me," he challenged.

"They've suffered, in their respective ways."

"What about Mwu?"

She made a sad laugh. "He's the lucky one, because he knew to keep his distance."

He still wore that skeptical expression, and she was not sure what more she could say to make him believe her. "You will regret it," she said, 'and so will I,' her mind echoed. "When you realise the person I truly am, you will know that it was the biggest mistake to even think that you would love a person like me."

"Tell me why."

"I… I can't." No, she really couldn't. The past has been buried, and she was certain one day it will be dug up again to make her pay for her crimes, but today was not the day.

"Well then, whatever you've convicted me of remains to be seen, though I very much doubt I will be guilty of the charge." He moved forward, half a step apart from her, and she watched him, forgetting that she probably should not have let him so close until it was already too late—he had quietly slipped his hand underneath hers, holding it gingerly. "I do have faith in myself that I'll be able to persevere through whatever challenges that may come, and I have every intention of guarding your side no matter the circumstances."

"You won't be able to promise that." She sounded doubtful and hopeful at the same time, and she hated herself for speaking in such a ridiculous tone, but he simply smiled. Her heart leaped.

"I'm not going to promise, because promises can be broken. I am going to prove it."

Her eyes widened as though he had sworn her a miracle, and somehow, from the way his lips pulled upwards into a very confident grin, she started to believe, maybe if she wished fervently enough, it would come true. She should definitely start wishing right this moment.

His hold onto her hand tightened a bit, and watching as he leaned slowly towards her, she immediately sensed what was happening. She squeezed her eyes shut as a reflexive response to her shock, but then, what surprised her even more, was the warm, soft, and rather chaste kiss on the corner of her lips. She opened her eyes again to see him waiting with patience.

"You don't have to agree to anything now, but please do keep in mind that I am very determined to win your faith."

Oh, must he fill her with such anticipation?

Author's note

I'm really sorry for taking so long with this update! The last two months had been absolutely crazy both at home and at work, and I don't see how it'll be improving in the short term… Updates will probably be a bit slower from now onwards. I'll try my best to keep posting every one or two weeks, but in case it doesn't happen, at least you know I'm just busy and hadn't forgotten about this!