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.
Recap: 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.
Chapter Eight
A New Bond"You're gonna eat it?"
Merle gave him a confused look, as if she couldn't figure out why he sounded so surprised. She dropped the hand still clutching the mouse back to her side, and tilted her head slightly to the side. "Yes," she answered slowly. "Why?"
"You . . .eat . . .mice?" Van could tell his voice was higher than usual, but he couldn't help it. His stomach was still protesting the mental image the cat girl's last move had caused. The squirming body dangling just above her open mouth . . .
"I thought we just covered that. Of course I do. What else are you supposed to do with them?"
Her voice seemed to grow fainter as he bent over a little, gulping in deep draughts of air. Swallowing hard, he renewed his efforts at forgetting what he almost saw.
"What's the matter with you?"
The fact that he was admitting a weakness to her grated on his nerves. "What do you think is wrong with me?" he snapped. "You eat mice!" Just speaking that thought out loud affected him, and Van felt his face pucker up again.
"You're not gonna throw up, are you? 'Cause I'm not cleaning it up if you do." Merle told him, backing away a few steps. He glared at her weakly.
"Give me a minute. And put that down!"
Merle looked down at the object of his ire, the mouse that was still wiggling from her hand. "But I just caught it! And I'm hungry!"
Van groaned. It wasn't that he didn't know that cats ate mice; it was, after all, a common fact. But knowing it happened and seeing it happen were two completely different things. "Just drop it, please. I'll find us something else to eat." Looking up through the spikes of hair that still covered his face, Van saw a thoughtful expression cross Merle's face. He guessed what she would say next before she opened her mouth.
"Like what?"
"Like anything you want!"
He waited, his eyes trained diligently on the floor while she deliberated. He couldn't hold back his sigh of relief when she finally spoke.
"Okay, but it had better be something good." There was a faint plopping sound, followed by a squeak as the mouse made its getaway. Van counted to ten before he considered it safe to look up. Merle was watching him closely, her brow furrowed as though she were deep in thought.
"You're strange," she announced, sounding as if she had just come to an interesting conclusion.
He straightened, wondering idly if he should be offended by the way she said it. "What do you mean?"
"You chase after things you don't know what are in the middle of the night, talk to people you don't know, and yet you're grossed out by the prospect of one little mouse getting eaten." She shrugged, and then repeated her diagnosis. "You're strange."
"What about you? You live in a kitchen and eat mice. And you can't call me on the other one, 'cause you talked to me, too."
"There's where you're wrong. I knew who you were before I ever said a word to you, Van, prince of Fanelia." She crossed her arms and lifted her chin in the classic "so there" gesture.
Van would have shot another comeback her way, but he was thinking over what she had just revealed. She had known who he was, and yet she still yelled at him, made him agree to her rules, and made fun of him. It was a totally new experience for him.
Every other time he had finally found someone to treat him like a normal person, it had only lasted till they found out who he really was. After that, all the "Van"'s became "Lord Van"'s. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that just having someone learn that he was royalty was enough to make them treat him differently, even when he was the same person he'd been before they knew. He could only imagine what would happen if they knew his other secret.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he took another look at Merle. She was something of a sight, he had to admit. Her pink hair hung to the middle of her back, and was a tangled mess. The dress she wore was short, made of a plain, coarse fabric whose color was somewhere between white and a very washed out gray. All in all, she was the last person he would have expected to actually want to spend time with.
But he did.
Catching the look she was giving him that could only be described as hungry, Van could tell she was waiting for him to ante up on the dinner he'd promised her. He would make sure he took the blame for it in the morning. It would mean some form of punishment, but anything was better than watching the last few seconds of that mouse's existence. Besides, sneaking into the kitchen for a snack was something he had done many times before, and the price had never been too severe. A couple of mumbled apologies, some downcast-eyes-paired-with-shuffling-feet action, and he'd be off to his usual activities in no time.
It was because of his previous trips that he knew where the best things were kept, and in no time at all, he and Merle were enjoying a midnight feast of cookies, dried meat, and some only slightly stale bread left over from dinner. He watched with some amusement as the cat girl attacked the food.
"I guess you don't get this stuff often," he asked, already reasonably sure of her answer. She confirmed his guess with a shake of her head, not wanting to pause in her eating even long enough to reply. He chuckled. It was fun to eat with someone who wasn't all concerned about manners and stuff like that, and was willing to get breadcrumbs all over the place. He was used to getting reproachful looks at dinnertime since he was the only one at the head table still clumsy enough to spill things. Somehow, he didn't think that would ever be a problem when he was around Merle.
Swallowing the last bite of her cookie, said cat girl swiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and then leaned back against the wall behind her. "That was good," she mumbled, stifling a yawn. Van nodded his agreement, taking the spot next to her.
"We should do this again some time." He kept a close watch out of the corner of his eye, trying to gage her reaction to that announcement.
"Umph," was her indecipherable reply. Her eyes were dropping to half-mast as her head nodded closer and closer to her chest.
Deciding it was time for him to leave, Van began clearing up the remains of their impromptu meal. As he was looking for something to clean up the crumbs, his eyes fell on the row of hooks holding the kitchen staff's aprons. He paused in his search, his mind going back to the times he'd wandered into the kitchen out of hunger or boredom. There was always one of the women that would slip him something before sending him on his way. She had seemed really nice . . .
The first stages of an idea began to solidify in his mind.
Merle woke some time later to find herself curled up on her bed, her blanket spread over her shoulders. As she sat up and yawned, she tried to remember what had happened. She'd been talking to Van, feeling full and a bit sleepy after their midnight feast . . .
She jumped to her feet with a gasp. If anyone found that mess they'd left, especially Nellie, she'd really be in for it. She had planned to clean it up when Van left, but she must have fallen asleep before then. Creeping to the edge of her sleeping niche, Merle cautiously popped her head around the corner, hoping that it was early enough for her to remove any hints of their picnic before the cooks and their assistants arrived.
Her hopes sank when the sound of low pitched conversation and clattering dishes met her ears. The women were obviously already hard at work. But if they'd found the mess, why hadn't one of them woken her up? She doubted that they would let something like that slide, especially since it was against the second most important of the rules they had given her.
Silently cursing herself for worrying all the previous day instead of sleeping, Merle padded back to her bed with heavy steps. She wasn't in the mood to face the cooks right then. If there was going to be trouble, she was sure they'd bring it to her when they were good and ready. Curling up in the corner closest to the wall and furthest from the other people, she settled in to wait.
The day passed agonizingly slowly, or so it seemed to her. Her stomach was working on twisting itself into as many knots as it could, and her whole body had developed a dull ache from muscles held tense for too long. Once, sometime around noon, she had thought she heard a voice that she recognized as Daphne's from around the corner, but a quick glance had revealed that the blonde girl was nowhere in sight.
She was surprised at the feeling of sadness that hit her at that. Though she'd only spoken to her once, she had felt much better knowing that someone who didn't hate her was close by. Knowing that the other girl wasn't there made her feel almost . . .abandoned. Shaking off the odd and unwanted feeling, she returned to her spot.
Wallowing as she was in her thoughts of getting in trouble, she almost jumped out her skin when a shadow fell over her. Pressing herself more tightly in the corner, her fur was standing on end before she recognized her visitor.
"Daphne," she hissed, trying to slow her frantic heartbeat. The older girl smiled, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. "What are you doing over here? You're going to get us both in trouble!"
Tilting her head to the side, Daphne laughed softly. "You really have been out of it today, haven't you?" When Merle said nothing, only looked at her in confusion, she motioned to the windows. For the first time, Merle noticed the general dimness of the room. Seeing the brilliant colors flaming outside, she knew the sun was well on its way to setting. Putting her ears to good use, she took in the silence, realizing that the other women must have already left.
She turned back to her guest, fighting to clear her still somewhat fuzzy mind. "So why are you still here?"
"Oh, doing a little favor for an old friend."
Merle frowned. "Huh?"
Daphne smiled. "You'll see. Now come on!" Grasping Merle's wrists, she pulled her to her feet. "We've got a lot to do, and I have to be home before it gets too dark out."
Distracted by being pulled across the room, Merle blurted out the first thing that popped into her head. "I thought you weren't here today?"
Not missing a step, Daphne threw her a look over her shoulder. "Why'd you think that?"
"I looked, and you weren't there."
The older girl seemed to think for a moment, her forehead wrinkling in the process. "Was it around lunchtime?" she finally asked, seeming to have reached whatever distant thought she had been searching for. Merle nodded. "Oh, I left for awhile, then came back. I had some things that I had to do. And one of them was arranging this!" With a grand wave of her arm, she motioned to the place she had been leading her captive.
They were standing in one of the many little alcoves that were built into the kitchen's walls. This one was in one of the darker corners, probably meant to store foodstuffs, though obviously it wasn't used for anything on a regular basis. On this day, however, someone had converted it to another purpose. A wooden tub sat smack in the middle of the small space, tendrils of steam drifting lazily off its surface. A wooden chair was slightly to the side of that, its seat holding a folded square of cloth and a bar of soap.
Merle, never very fond of water, began to slide her feet backwards in preparation for a quick escape, guessing correctly that the tub was for her. Daphne must have sensed the movement, small though it was, and moved to stop her.
"Aw, come on. It's one little bath. I know cat people aren't very fond of water, but won't it feel so nice to be all clean again?"
"I'm clean!" Merle retorted indignantly. Daphne paused, a stricken look appearing on her expressive face as she realized the unintentional insult she had just delivered.
"I didn't mean . . . I wasn't thinking . . . Arg!" Frustrated, she yanked at her braid. "Look, I don't mean to offend you or anything, but you've got to trust me on this one. The bath is just part one of a bigger process, and we can't skip it. I promise, you'll be happier in the end, so give it a try. For me?"
Merle snickered at being on the receiving end of a full-blown puppy-dog-eyes-and-pouting-lip attack, and then reluctantly gave in. Daphne was the first person to do something nice for her here, and if all she was asking in return was for her to take a bath, she could live with it. But what had she meant about the first step of a bigger process?
Swallowing hard, he asked in a voice that was more squeak than anything else, "You're gonna eat it?"
