Of Cat and Boy
By Lady of the InkDisclaimer: I don't own Escaflowne, but you knew that. At least, I hope you knew that. But I do own this story, and all the twists and turns it takes.
Chapter Seven
A New AgreementVan slipped down the hall, struggling to be as silent as possible. Everything in him wanted to dash down the hall as quickly as his legs would carry him. He was practically buzzing with excitement about the coming night.
Having been frustrated beyond words about having to leave before he'd gotten his answers, Van had worked out a plan. After escaping from his tutor and his walk through the courtyard, he'd caught a quick nap. Rushing through dinner at a pace that was amazing even for him, he had hurried back to his room.
A smile crossed his face as he remembered the stunned look on Marta's face at his willingness to be tucked in. As the maid that looked after him in the evenings, she had suffered through more than one pleading for "just a few more minutes" or "just one more story" before he had to go to bed. Though she must have been surprised at his sudden about-face, she hadn't said anything.
Determined not to make the same mistakes as last time, he'd been careful not to fall asleep when Marta had slipped from the room. Calling up all the questions he'd wanted to ask the cat girl, he organized them in his mind. After that, he'd chosen the most important ones to ask first. When he had five in mind, he'd listened carefully for any noise from the hall. All was quiet, so he slipped from his bed, shivering slightly at the feel of cold stone on the bottom of his feet.
Making his way to the door, Van carefully popped just his head around the jam. A quick glance showed the stretch of hallway to be completely empty. Darting into the hall, he kept his back to wall as a small amount of protection against being seen should some unexpected person make an appearance. It was in that fashion that he made he made his way quickly down the hall and through the dining room. It was only when he stood facing the door to the kitchen that he finally paused.
As he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his excitement, he tried to visualize how this encounter might go. He hoped that the cat girl would be a little more forthcoming with information this time, but he wasn't going to bet on it. She hadn't seemed too eager for company, although he was still wondering if it was any company in general she was against, or if it was just him she wanted to keep away from. That thought had bothered him enough that it was one of his five big questions, right after her name and the reason for her presence in the kitchen.
Unable to wait any longer, Van bit the bullet and headed into the short hall leading to the kitchen. Of all the scenarios that had flitted through his mind, nowhere had been one where he was met three steps into the room by the cat girl herself. Startled into motionlessness, Van could only watch as she drew herself to her full height. All his rehearsed questions flew from his mind as she gave him a thorough looking over. When she was apparently satisfied with what she saw, she began to speak.
"If you plan on spending the rest of the night down here, there are a few things we need to get straight. Number one, I have things to do, and I can't have you keeping me from doing them. If you can't stay out of my way, then you should leave. If you can manage to keep from getting in my way, then you can stick around.
"Number two, if you want to ask questions, go ahead. Just no stupid ones. And if I don't want to answer them, I don't have to. Other than that, do whatever you want. Okay?"
He opened his mouth as she looked at him expectantly, but at first, nothing would come out. He settled for a nod, and she returned the gesture before headed back towards the corner where he'd first seen her. Following after her at a slower pace, Van thought over what she had just said. A huge grin crossed his face as he realized that he was getting exactly what he wanted. Feeling a little more light-hearted than he had before, he quickened his step to catch up with her.
This was definitely going to be an interesting night, to say the least.
After an immense amount of fretting that had had her nearly pulling out her hair, Merle had finally managed to come to several conclusions. First of all, because of his status, she couldn't risk simply ordering him to get lost. Not only did he not have to listen to her, but if he wanted to, he could be the cause of a lot of grief for her. If she really made him angry, he could probably have her removed completely. So that left her in the unappealing but unavoidable position of having to put up with him for as long as he found it entertaining to be around her.
That thought had given way to a conclusion that made her feel much better. It was most likely the mystery of not knowing anything about her that made Van so interested. If she answered all the questions he had, there'd be no more mystery and, hopefully, no more interest. Then he could go back to doing whatever it was that future kings did, and leave her to her life.
With that settled, she had taken up a position near the door to await his arrival. Not long after she heard most of the castle's inhabitants turn in, there came the quiet but distinct sound of bare feet padding their way down the hall. He paused for a moment outside the door, but not for long. As he barreled into the room, she watched his look of determination melt into one of surprise and slight hint of confusion. Opting not to wait for him to catch his mental balance, she leapt right into the speech that she'd prepared.
Van had seemed to take it well, which wasn't so surprising since he was getting everything that he had wanted in the first place. But it left Merle feeling slightly less out of control, and allowed her to relax a little. She was even enjoying the company a little, not that she would ever admit it. It was almost . . .nice to have someone close to her age around.
She was ready to take that thought back only minutes after it had come into being when he finally got over whatever had kept him silent. The questions began, with barely a pause for breath between them. Merle satisfied her vengeful side by being as taciturn as she felt she could get away with, but her one and two word answers hardly seemed to faze the dark haired boy.
"What's you're name?"
"Merle."
"Don't you have a last name?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Don't know."
"Where's your family?"
"Gone."
"What do you mean, gone?"
"Dead."
"Oh. Where are you from?"
Shrug.
"You don't know?"
"Don't remember."
"How long have you been at the castle?"
"Couple weeks."
"Do you sleep here?" This was accompanied by a wave toward her pallet.
Nod.
"Why?"
"Why not?"
That stumped him, but not for long. "You said you have things to do tonight. Do you work here or something?"
"Yes."
"So, what do you do?"
"Hunt."
Van looked confused. "Huh?"
Merle was unable to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She could just imagine the pictures that were running through his mind. Little old her out in the forest, tracking down game and dragging it back to the castle. The mental image was so humorous she couldn't resist a small giggle as it flitted through her mind. At the unexpected sound, Van tilted his head to the side. Snapping back into her aggravating mode, she answered his unspoken question.
"Mice," she said, enunciating the word carefully, as if implying he was slightly slow.
His eyes narrowing at the hit, Van crossed his arms over his chest. "You're awfully small. I bet I could catch mice better than you could."
Merle almost growled at that. Who did he think he was, saying something like that? Future king or not, there was no way that he could beat her at what she was best at. Her pride caused her to bristle in righteous indignation. "Do you wanna bet?" she snapped before she could think better of it.
"Yeah," he shot back. He glared back at her, a look that could only be called a cross between sulky and determined covering his face.
Not willing to back down now that the challenge had been accepted, Merle quickly thought about what to do. If Van had known her better, he would have recognized the need to be wary of the look that now entered her eyes. But since he didn't, he only watched with curiosity as she moved back into the main part of the kitchen.
"The rules are simple; first one to catch a mouse wins. Easy enough?" she questioned, a too innocent expression on her face. He nodded. "Good. You go first. I'll count." Taking herself off to a corner, Merle made a great show of settling into a comfortable position. "One, two, three, four, five, six . . ."
Van remained still, a vaguely distressed air surrounding him. It was all Merle could do not to interrupt her count with an evil chuckle. Just as she had thought, the boy didn't have a clue where to start. His clueless-ness almost made her want to help him. Almost. First, she'd make sure he knew that it took talent to do what she did, and then she'd offer some tips.
Maybe.
"Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-fo- . . ."
"I can't do this if you keep counting so loud. You're scaring them all away!" And twenty-four seconds for the temper to show, she thought to herself. Obligingly, she continued her count under her breath and went back to enjoying the show.
Van turned in a half circle, looking over all the corners of the room. Merle could tell that he was in over his head; she could also tell that he wasn't about to admit it. His chin was thrust out at a stubborn angle and his eyes were narrowed again, this time in concentration instead of annoyance. Finally deciding on a course of action, he dropped onto his knees and slowly edged close the pantry. Merle grudgingly awarded him a point for choice of location, since the pantry was a good place to start. But it would take more than a good starting point for him to catch his prey. A lot more.
More time passed with neither of them moving an inch. Merle's count topped a hundred, then two hundred, and still she waited. She had almost drifted off when a soft sound had her straightening. Her gaze shot to Van, and she almost gasped at what she saw. Not a foot in front of the kneeling boy, a fat mouse padded out of the pantry, not a care in the world. Unconsciously leaning forward, Merle waited to see what the young prince would do next.
Moving with an amount of caution that she wouldn't have thought him capable of, Van slowly stretched one hand out, inching it closer to the unsuspecting mouse. A swift swipe of his hand, and he lifted his fist with a crow of victory. Merle was astonished to see a tail poking between his fingers as he clambered to his feet.
"Yeah! I got it!" he whooped, turning to face her with a triumphant smirk on his lips. Swallowing her disbelief, she slowly got her feet. Dusting off the back of her dress gave her another few seconds to gather her thoughts.
"Um, that was good. Only took till two hundred eighty-six." Regaining her condescending tone, Merle sniffed. "Of course, it's nothing special compared to what I can do. And that was a fat mouse, which made it slower than most, so it's really not surprising that even you could catch it."
Van's eyes narrowed at the insults to his skills, and he started to answer back. Whatever he had been about to say was lost, however, as a yelp came out instead. He swung his hand upward, his fist opening in the process. The mouse dropped to the floor, darting forward to hide under a cabinet. Merle just stared at Van, trying to figure out what was the matter with him. As she looked closer, the problem became clear. A small drop of blood rolled down his wrist to drip onto the floor.
Merle chuckled, then snorted as she tried to hide it. "You really gotta . . .snicker . . .watch out for those . . .giggle . . .teeth." Biting her lip was no longer helping to stifle the laughter, and the positively thunderous look on Van's face was the last straw. Giving up on her efforts to contain herself, Merle began laughing for all she was worth. Van remained motionless, just standing there, his arm still held in front of him.
Long moments later, when she finally managed to calm herself down, Merle wiped the tears from her cheeks and stepped toward the still brooding boy. "Let me see it."
Jerking his hand away, Van went back to glaring at her. "Why? So you can laugh some more?"
"No, I'm done laughing. My side hurts too much to start again." A moment passed, then he cautiously held out his hand. Without touching it, Merle looked over the wound. It wasn't bad, and the bleeding had already slowed almost to the point of stopping. "It's not so bad," she told him, nodding sagely.
"Easy for you to say," he muttered as he jerked his arm back to his side, but she noticed his face had cleared a bit.
"You're more of a baby than I thought you were if you think that that little bite is something to get worked up over. I've had worse."
"I never said I was worried about it," he snapped.
"Well, it was all over your face. 'Oh, no! I got a little cut! Someone help me!'" she mocked.
Ignoring that, Van went to lean against the wall. "It's your turn."
Deciding to let him off the hook for the moment, Merle just smirked. "Start counting." She didn't even bother to listen to the sounds in the room this time. No, this time her target was already in her sights. The second Van had dropped his catch, she had zeroed in on its new hiding place. Now it was just a matter of sneaking up on it.
Slipping around one of the counters, Merle dropped down to the floor. Creeping closer and closer to her prey, her eyes almost crossed with her level of concentration. A quick forward step and a swipe of her hand, and the mouse was captured firmly in her palm.
Resisting the urge to crow her victory, Merle rose to her feet and turned to face a waiting Van. "How long was that?" she asked smugly, raising her fist to reveal her prize. The older boy struggled to hide the look of amazement on his face with little success.
"Um, thirty-seven," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. She didn't have to be a genius to interpret the sour expression he now wore.
"Don't feel bad. I mean, it's understandable that you're a little clumsy. After all, you are only human."
"You're half human, too!"
"But I'm more cat, which is a hundred million times better." Huffing, she stuck her nose in the air. A movement in her hand brought her mind back to what she still held. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since early the previous evening. With a quick move made simple through long practice, Merle shifted her grip to the mouse's tail and lifted it into the air. As it hung over her open mouth, she happened to catch a glimpse of Van's face. He was looking slightly green around the edges, and one hand was pressed tightly to his stomach. When he looked up to meet her gaze, she raised a questioning brow.
Swallowing hard, he asked in a voice that was more squeak than anything else, "You're gonna eat it?"
