Chapter 6; Small Retributions:

Hello dear readers! I am so glad that so many of you are liking this story, and know that each of your favs, follows, and reviews are very much appreciated by me. With that said, I know a lot of you are not liking Nuada right now, and that's understandable. Especially with the way he's treated Eve in the last chapter. But don't worry. Nuada and Eve both have a long way to go before they will fall in love, and despite Eve's soft nature, she's not one to take abuse. Nuada will have to change if he is going to win her affections. Idk what I'm trying to get at here, but please know Nuada won't always be such an ass in this story, but I didn't want to compromise his character by drastically changing his personality to make the lovey-dovey times happen faster (Also, I am aware that there were no stake-burnings at Salem, as it was more of a European thing, but I hope you all forgive me for a little artistic licensing. It actually scares me that I have so many well-informed readers, but you are all so sweet I think I will be okay. I figured it would make for more tension if Eve was afraid of fire instead of a rope or something, but bear with me for I will get to her backstory soon enough).


Dearest Eve,

Thank you again for your letters these past few weeks. I am sorry it has taken me so long to respond, but with everything going on, I've been a bit busy. It is so strange, being back in my childhood home after so many years. Everything is as I remember it. The wallpaper, the rug in front of the fireplace, even that scuff in the banister that I made when I was little by throwing my doll in a tantrum. It brings so many memories, many of them sweet, but many of them too much to bear. I have slowly started to redecorate, knowing mother would have wanted me to. I think you'd like what I had done to the kitchen, the cabinets are all white now and it really opens up the space. Your room has been left untouched though, so any time you feel like visiting it will be ready for you. My husband won't mind, since the grandchildren won't be visiting us anytime soon, being off to college and all. I can't think of how hard it was for you to leave this place. You were always more than a guest in this house. After so many years by my mother's side, caring for her, keeping her company, I can only think of you as family as surely as my mother did. I know she gave me the house in her will, but were you aware she left you more than just her research papers and plants? She wanted you to have her antique tea table and chairs too. I know how much you both loved your tea time. I know you hate hearing it, but you have such an old soul. I suppose that is why my mother loved you so much.

Yours Gratefully,

Laura Taylor

P.S. Bill sends his love and wonders how Bartholomew is doing.

In the quiet of her room, Eve found it hard to fight the swell of sadness inside her as she read and re-read Laura's letter.

Being Dr. Hale's only daughter, Eve had met Laura many times. At Christmas, she would always bring her children with on her visit Dr. Hale's home, and Eve loved the sound of their laughter. Laura's too, for she was such a happy woman, much more open and expressive than her mother. Eve had stayed a month after Dr. Hale's passing to help Laura with the house and furniture, but Eve never imagined the woman considered her like family as Dr. Hale had...

Family.

Hecate preserve her, how that word hurt. It hurt more now than ever.

Eve had been at the BPRD for over three weeks now, and they had been three weeks of perfect disaster. She had so many hopes to make friends here, to share her knowledge and find connections with people who could understand her world. But after her little 'accident' in the canteen, Eve knew she could not show her face anytime soon. She had remained in her room ever since not daring to find out just how much Hellboy and Miss Sherman hated her. And surely, they hated her. Just as a certain Bethmoora Prince did…

Eve shook her head. She did not wish to think about that. Not for the hundredth time that day, at any rate.

And so, determined to distract herself, Eve wandered back over to her desk. She wanted to reply to Laura's letter as soon as possible, wanting to arrange a way to bring over the tea table and chairs. They would make nice additions to her room, giving it some much-needed comfort. Of course, it might be difficult, seeing as how Eve's letters had to be re-routed through a P.O. Box in Brooklyn and picked up by an agent so as not to alert anyone to the BPRD's true location. She wondered if it would have to be necessary for her to hire a truck of some kind, but did not know how to get a hold of such a thing.

"Bartholomew, have you seen my good quill?" She asked her familiar when she finally sat down.

From his terrarium across the room, the toad grumbled an irritable "Croak."

"What do you mean you haven't seen it? It was right here!" Eve accused, but Bartholomew did not appreciate her tone.

"Croak!"

"Language! Ugh, I swear, I am going to replace you with a cat!"

"Croak!"

"Listen you, I-"

Just as Eve turned around in her chair to give her familiar a lesson in manners, there came a knock on her door.

Immediately Eve froze, hoping it wasn't Agent Myers. Since she had 'freaked' out in the canteen, he had been so very worried about her. She kept him off with excuses of her feeling poorly and the like, but he was persistently eager to be a part of her recovery. While his sentiment was sweet, several times Eve considered giving him a potion that would wipe his memories. Only temporarily, of course.

Eve moved over to the door and readied another speech full of excuses when the knock came again. This time there was a voice accompanying it.

"Miss Eve? It is Nuala."

Eve's heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Quickly she thought about teleporting herself somewhere far away, but it was too late.

"I am here with Abe. May we come in?"

"Uh…I…I am…I'm not feeling…" Eve stammered to reply. But she couldn't do it. She couldn't lie to royalty. Elven royalty at that. With a withering sigh, Eve gave up hope of escaping socialization.

"Of course. Give me a moment."

Quickly, Eve made certain her quarters were ready for guests. No one besides Agent Myers ever visited her before, and even then, it was only brief. At least everything was clean, as Eve had moved the rest of her plants into the greenhouse a few days ago, though there were still several boxes full of Dr. Hale's research papers stuffed into one corner. After smoothing her long-sleeved dress and fixing her heavy braid back over her shoulder, Eve opened the door.

"Hello Miss Eve," Smiled Nuala brightly.

She was as beautiful as the last time Eve had seen her. Her pale skin was offset by a dress of blue that matched the amphibian man beside her. It seemed to have been on purpose. Abe Sapien, it had been explained to Eve, was on intimate terms with the Bethmoora Princess, which would explain why they were holding hands now. In the amphibian man's free hand however was a potted flower, which he held out towards Eve.

"This is for you, Miss Winters," Abe explained, "A house warming gift. Late, I know, but it took a while to procure."

Eve's mouth fell open in surprise. She had not expected this. She had only met Abe that once when she had been introduced, and the last time she had seen the Princess she had nearly cut her face with glass. The kindness of the gesture overwhelmed her that she had to bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

"How very kind of the both of you. Thank you." Gently, Eve reached out to accept the gift. She was careful not to touch Abe's hand. Knowing his ability for clairsentience, she did not want to risk him learning anything from her. Her secrets were hers alone to reveal, and many of them she would prefer to never speak of if it could be avoided…

"It is an Aglaophotis Peony. According to the Greek scholar Dioscorides, it wards off evil spirits," Nuala clarified as Eve inspected the flower, "Agent Myers told us that you have a fondness for green things, so we thought it appropriate. I hear you are in possession of a Moon Goddess Lily? Such a rare thing these days."

"Oh, yes. It is in the greenhouse now. Poor thing really hated being down here, you see." Eve sighed, but then remembered her manners, "Please, come in."

"Thank you."

The two strange guests stepped inside, only for Nuala to suddenly stopped.

"Oh…my…" The Elven Princess gasped as she looked around. Eve wondered what held her fascination when she remembered the obvious.

Oh no. Eve, you perfect dolt! Eve cursed herself. She wanted to ram her head into a wall. How could she have forgotten the glamour? It was everywhere!

She had used it to further grow her shelves until they became a tangle of branches capable of holding her entire collection of scrolls and books and other typical witchy curios. Worse, she had changed the ceiling above her bed to reflect the sky and current weather, and achievement that Myers seemed to appreciate and called 'Very Harry Potter'. But unlike Myers, Princess Nuala was very much aware of the display of high magic before her. Elves at birth had a natural ability for glamour, the very thing that kept them and the Other Kind hidden from human eyes. No doubt that Nuala knew a mere 'apprentice' like Eve should not be capable of such displays.

"You are very skilled! I've never been able to weave such perfect glamour!"

"I am sure your skills are far more impressive than mine." Eve deflected. In an attempt to distract the Princess, Eve fetched the chair from her desk and a stool she used to reach the higher shelves of her bookcase for the couple to sit on, while she made do with a box. She really wished she had those chairs and tea table with her now.

This shuffling took out the momentum of conversation for a moment. Eve did not know what to say, though she desperately tried to think of a topic. Unfortunately, it seemed that Nuala had prepared one.

"About what happened in the canteen the other week, I hope you are alright."

Eve immediately looked down at the potted flower she still held, rubbing its petals between her fingers for comfort. A thousand different kinds of apologies and excuses came to her mind, but before she could voice them, Nuala pressed on.

"May I venture to guess that you have a fear of fire? Is that why you reacted to Miss Sherman so?"

"Y-yes." Eve stammered quickly, "I was burned as a child. I was just being careless when I was playing. But I'm afraid it has left a mark in my mind. Please tell Miss Sherman that I don't dislike her. It is nothing personal at all. I just…"

Eve lost her words. While she certainly couldn't lie to the Princess, she did not exactly want to tell her the truth. It was too much. Even saying this much brought Eve pain, and she'd rather not think on how such a gentle soul like the Elven Princess would react when she learned of the horrible things Eve had suffered. The horrible things she had done.

"Have no fear. Miss Sherman for the longest time was afraid of her own powers. They had brought a great amount of suffering into her life when she was young. But she has grown from that fear, as I am sure you will one day as well." Abe explained, and Eve smiled at his encouragement. She was quickly growing to like the amphibian man.

"That is kind of you."

Silence fell again, but this time it was a bit more relaxed for Eve. Abe, however, seemed no longer comfortable on the little stool and stood himself up.

"I must say, you have a splendid collection there. Would you think it rude of me to browse?" He gestured to her wall of books.

"Of course not. Please, help yourself. But I must request that you don't speak any Latin while you are here." Eve warned him.

"Why?"

"I'm afraid it excites the books."

"Ah." Abe frowned in understanding. With that, he left the pair of women behind. He made a short stop on his way over to the shelves by Bartholomew's terrarium, and the toad rudely stuck his tongue out at the amphibian man. But soon enough Abe lost himself in Eve's collection, and he seemed to forget where he was.

"Are you certain you are alright, Miss Eve?" Nuala asked yet again.

"Just Eve. And yes, I am fine."

"I know Miss Sherman gave you quite the fright that day. And…" Here, Nuala lowered her voice a touch, "And I know my brother has caused you great distress as well."

Eve paled. How did Nuala know that? Did Nuada tell her? He must have, for there was no one in that section of the BPRD when she and Nuada had their little…tiff. Well, not so much a tiff as Eve being absolutely stupid and enraging a member of royalty like the perfect idiot she was.

"It was my fault," Eve explained quickly, fearing what Nuala thought of her, "I spoke out of turn, saying such silly things to him. It was only a rumor in the family that we were related to Elves, so I don't know why I said that. I was simply nervous around him, but I touched on a sensitive topic. He had every right to be angry, given how insensitive I was being, and I am so sorry about that. Really, I did not mean to insult him or you, or any member of the Bethmoora Clan-"

"Eve, please, slow down." Nuala laughed. The soft sound, like bells ringing, calmed the panicked witch.

"I came here to apologize to you," Nuala continued, "You see, my brother and I are twins. And as such, we are connected in ways others are not. I sensed his rage that day, but I wanted you to know you were not the source of it. I shared with him some distressing news earlier, and I'm afraid he took out his anger on you."

Eve didn't know what to say. Did that mean Nuada didn't hate her? No, no. The burning look in his eyes could not be mistaken. But this news made it worse. Eve had taken the brunt of a rage that she had no fault in. All those cruel things he said to her, the horrible way he made her feel, he did all that because he felt the need to make her a victim to his temper? He had no right. And to think, she had been so happy to meet him…the infamous Prince-in-Exile…

"Well, I suppose that makes me feel a little better." Eve lied if just to comfort Nuala.

Nuala sighed then, and for the first time, Eve noticed a line of worry on the beautiful woman's face.

"Nuada has been…ill of late. Ill of spirit," She paused then, as if uncertain how to explain, "Do you know the Law of Three?"

"Of course. Ever mind the rule of three, three times your acts return to thee. This lesson well, thou must learn. Thou only gets what thee dost earn." Eve recited by heart. It was part of the Witch's Creed after all, and mother would not have stood for Eve or anyone of her daughters to stutter those sacred words.

"Yes, exactly," Nuala nodded, "that is what is happening to my brother. He has committed many terrible things, and now those things are returning to him. His anger has sown a misery that he now suffers, and it blackens his spirit. I know it does not excuse his harsh treatment towards you, but I hope you can understand."

Eve hesitated to give any answer. Instead, she asked "These terrible things he's supposed to have done…it wouldn't have anything to do with the Golden Army, would it?"

Nuala's expression fell, and another line of worry creased her face. Eve cursed herself a thousand-fold for causing it, but eventually the Princess spoke.

"Yes. My brother sought to raise the Golden Army from its slumber. And what is worse, I do not think my brother regrets his actions. He is not fond of humans."

This hardly came as a surprise to Eve. She had heard the stories as well as anyone. Prince Nuada had, many hundreds of years ago, gone into self-imposed exile when Balor, the One-Armed King of Elfland, called off the Golden Army's attack on the race of man. Nuada had seen the greed of men and did not think a truce with such creatures to be wise. He had vowed to return when his people needed him most, promising a war that would end the era of the avaricious humans. No doubt when he spoke to her, he did not think her any better than those very humans he hated, and that was why he chose to lash at her.

But his judgment of her was sorely lacking. For he was wrong. She was not human. Not anymore. Now she was something much, much worse. And more.

"We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are." Nuala continued after a time, "And in my brother's anger, he saw the Golden Army as the only way to protect our people. He saw what he was doing as right, and probably still does. But now he suffers, thinking we are doomed to fade. I had hoped that in time he would find some kind of peace, the same as I have with Abe, but…"

The Princess did not finish. She did not need to, as from the pain in her expression, Eve could tell how much she worried for her twin. She was afraid of the suffering her brother was now enduring as if it was her own. Perhaps in a way it was.

"I know it is a lot to ask, but might you find it in your heart to forgive him? Could you try and see past his anger?" The Princess pleaded, "Given how you were not here to witness to his crimes, you may be the only person in this facility who could give him a chance of friendship. I am afraid I am not enough of a comfort to him anymore."

"I…um, well, that is quite a lot to ask," Eve confessed. A lot was an understatement. Eve doubted that Sisyphus himself would envy such a task.

She wondered why though the Princess was so adamant that she and Nuada get along. Their brief conversations had so far not been very enjoyable. And Nuada's anger was not something Eve fancied coming across again any time soon. In fact, it terrified her. She had not seen such deep-seated wrath like that herself in over three hundred years…

But the real question was why Eve did want to know Nuada better. Any normal person would be terrified to learn that someone had attempted to wipe out all of humanity and would rightfully avoid said person. But his rage, his hatred, the lengths he was willing to go to protect his loved ones…if there was anyone who could understand such things, it was herself…

Amazing really, how much I happen to have in common with a Bethmoora Prince, Eve silently wondered.

Still, she was not so intrigued as to be the first to bend. For once she was not at fault for something, and it was not in her nature to forgive easily. To some, it might come as a surprise to learn that about her. But then, so few people knew of the terrible things she had done in the name of revenge.

"I will try. That is all I will promise." Eve eventually spoke, if just for Nuala's sake. Like she had hoped, her words brought comfort to the Princess as her heavy expression lifted. Nuala seemed ready to give her thanks then when Abe returned.

"Um, excuse me? Miss Winters?" He timidly spoke, pointing towards something in the kitchen, "The microwave appears to be barking? Should we be concerned?"


Eve spent the rest of her afternoon with Abe and Nuala, happy to become better acquainted with the two of them. By the end of the day, Nuala made Eve promise she would soon show her collection of rare plants, and Abe was all too grateful that Eve was willing to let him borrow some of her books. Their company helped to lift Eve's mood, enough that when Mr. Krauss invited her to his office the next day, she felt in high enough spirits to accept.

"Would you like some more sandkuchen, Fraulein?" Krauss asked Eve, pushing the plate of coffee cake closer to her side of the desk.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Krauss," She smiled as she accepted another piece, "It is very delicious."

Through the glass dome of his helmet, Eve saw his ectoplasmic form swirl excitedly at the compliment.

"I am glad you like it. It is an old family recipe."

"Really?" She continued with a nervous smile, "I detect a hint of lemon in the glaze. I simply must know how it is made."

"Fraulein, are you trying to distract me with small talk?" Kraus asked in amusement.

Caught, Eve busied herself with by another sip of the tea he had poured for her. She had known this was no ordinary social call, but still, her anxiety grew as Krauss continued.

"Well, we must be getting to the point of our little meeting, I'm afraid. Time waits for no one." He reached to open up the large file in front of him, rummaging through the papers before adding, "Well, except you, of course."

"Of course." Eve smiled, though she wasn't certain if he was trying to make a joke. Either way, she found it upsetting.

Though Krauss knew of her past, the same as Director Manning, she was not certain how comfortable she was that he had been placed in charge of keeping track of her condition. Dr. Hale had done the same thing over the years, not only helping Eve recover her health and sanity, but ensuring that she remained so. But Eve trusted Dr. Hale. And while she had no reason as of yet to dislike Krauss, the knowledge that anything he learned was to be immediately reported to Director Manning made her extremely wary. She knew they were bound to respect the Pact of Blood that Professor Broom had signed with Dr. Hale, but even still, that did not mean they knew what they were doing or wouldn't try to take advantage of it.

Clicking a pen and reading a notepad, Krauss began.

"Tell me Fraulein, how old are you? Physically, I mean."

Eve frowned as she tried to recall such a simple fact. It took her an embarrassingly long time, but Krauss bore with her.

"Well, I was approaching my twentieth winter when it happened."

"Twenty?" He repeated, only to laugh, "So young. And here I thought I looked good for my age. You put me to shame."

Eve tried to give him a humored smile but failed.

"Now, to the point, yes? The Director heard about your little, shall we say, scuffle in the canteen. Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was startled, that was all."

"Yes, but afterward, maintenance filed a complaint that someone had shattered all the lights in corridor 1-B. Was that you?" Krauss pressed, already writing something down on his notepad. It served to increase Eve's nerves.

"Well, you see, I-"

"And following that, there were incidents reported in the greenhouse, corridors 2-6, 3-4, and 1-8, as well as sightings of your familiar breaking into our lab and smashing every test tube for his own amusement. Fraulein, at this rate, you will be responsible for as much property damage as Hellboy! Quite a feat, seeing as how you've only been here for less than a month."

"I know, I know. I am so sorry." Eve deflated, her grip on the cup and saucer tightening.

"This…condition of yours," He put delicately, "You do have a way of controlling it, yes?"

"I haven't had a problem with it in decades. Dr. Hale helped me recover control over my vast amount of power. But with her gone…" Eve tried to explain, but suddenly her throat was constricted with grief. She had to swallow to keep back a sob that wanted to breakthrough.

"That control is lost you think?" Krauss finished for her. Eve barely managed a nod.

"My defenses are weak, you could say. Sorrow chipped a part of them away. I need to strengthen them back up. Rebuild the walls."

"How? I would like to be of assistance if I can. You were entrusted to the BPRD on the goodwill of Professor Broom after all. It would be shirking in our duty as your caretakers to make you suffer this alone."

His offer seemed genuine enough to Eve. Despite her doubt of his good intentions, she decided to chance telling him the plan she had been working through her mind for a while.

"I have been looking into making a charm for myself. Something small, something that would help channel any outburst I have."

"Then I shall see the proper books are brought to you," He offered before his brow – if he had one, that is – furrowed with thought, "As for the making of said charm, well, I am afraid we do not have a traditional metalsmith on the premise, but perhaps we can make a special commission to our weapons department."

"Thank you, that is very kind. But I am afraid the charm I need is beyond the capability of human hands." Eve declined. It was a troubling situation, but that was what it had come to. She needed the skill of someone of higher magic than a mere human. A goblin or a troll perhaps, but their rates were so expensive. Besides, she had relied on the kindness of the BPRD too much already. Even when she was with Dr. Hale she had not been so dependent. Eve hated to burden others with her sorrows, and this occasion was no different.

"I see." Krauss sighed in disappointment, "Still, we must do what we can, eh? Now, I see that you have put in a request for a truck to pick up some furniture from your old home. We can arrange this, but-"

"Krauss! Goddamit Krauss, are you there?" A voice, crackling and harsh, interrupted. It startled Eve until she noticed it was coming from an intercom on Krauss's desk. Pressing a button, Krauss replied.

"Yes, Director Manning."

"I need you in my office! We got a report of another werewolf attack!"

Krauss then loosened a string of German curses, causing the young witch to blush at their vulgarity.

"That is the fifth time! What is going on over there?"

"Is this about the pack in Montana?" Eve tentatively asked. She knew the BPRD's business was none of hers, but still, she was quite curious. Not even she had seen a werewolf before.

"Yes. When we first got word of the attacks, we sent several agents to better observe the situation. The pack elders assured us that the werewolves who have been causing mischief were just young and needing time to gain control of their wolfing half and that they would deal with the matter themselves. We wanted to respect their ways, and so we have reserved taking further action. But now the attacks are growing more frequent, bolder. In the last one, a farmer's hand was ripped clean off!"

"Is there something I can do to help?" Eve piqued. Krauss only shook his head.

"Nein, nothing."

Eve would not be dissuaded. True, she had no place on missions, just as Director Manning told her. But he also told her she was to act the role of an advisor when they came across anything that was in her area of expertise. And this was beginning to sound a lot like her area of expertise.

"It is just werewolves normally are not so keen to attack humans, even when young. And when a werewolf is young, they can only change during the night of the full moon, whereas elders may change at will. It sounds like the pack has a bigger problem than they let on."

"You may be right. There is something about these attacks that don't settle well with me. They seem too random, too frenzied. Not at all like a hunter stalking prey, but more like a lunatic with an urge to maim as brutally as possible. And such strength they have! Too much strength for young pups."

"Sounds like the effects of the Moon Blood Berserker," Eve concluded.

"Moon Blood Berserker?" Krauss repeated, shaking his head, "I am afraid I am not familiar."

"It is a potion. Dr. Hale has notes on its effects if you would like to see them."

"Yes. I would be so grateful to you if you could share them, Fraulein." Krauss nodded, and something about the way his ectoplasm swirled told Eve he was smiling.

"Of course." She smiled back, feeling better for having been of some help.

"Krauss!" The intercom screamed once more.

"Sohn einer hündin!" The mechanical man swore again. He stood from his chair, gathering back up Eve's file and his notes. Knowing he was in a rush, Eve stood up as well, helping him clear the tea things. But before he escorted her out of his office, Krauss gently grabbed her hand and bowed to it.

"I must go, dear Fraulein. We shall meet again in another couple of weeks to check on your condition."

"And perhaps we can have some more sandkuchen?" Eve ventured to ask.

"But of course!"


Despite the uproar about the werewolves, Krauss was able to deliver on his promise to Eve by that evening. A dozen books were brought to her room by an agent for her to look through, just some of the many that Professor Broom had collected over his years in the library. Eve was grateful, though she could have done as much herself. Still, it saved her time, and so she spent the rest of the day in her room, pouring over the books.

This plan of hers had been on her mind for a while. When she had first started to live with Dr. Hale, her powers were erratic and dangerous. Every day something shattered, broke, or completely disintegrated in Eve's presence. It was a terrifying time, and she feared every minute she would harm her only friend. But together Dr. Hale able to help Eve gain control of herself, enough that she could use her magic without fear of it taking hold of her. It was a slow process, the work of several decades, and Eve did not have that kind of time. She needed to gain control and quickly. Thus, a charm would be needed.

But not just any charm. A powerful one, one made in magic and runes. Eve had considered simply purchasing one, but she knew that would not be enough. No, she needed one handcrafted for herself. The problem was she just wasn't certain how…

Maybe Nuala would be of some help. After all, she was Elven royalty. She had to know a master goblin blacksmith. Or, maybe, Nuada might be the better one to ask –

Eve shook her head. She wasn't ready to think on the Elven Prince just yet.

Despite her promise to Nuala, it was still too much for her to consider right now. Besides, how would she ever be able to speak in his presence again? Nuada was far too intimidating, his hatred of her and all humans notwithstanding. Eve simply could not stand a man who had a temper, despite her feeling of affinity for him. Besides, making friends had never come easily for her. Even when her life was simple and happy, all Eve ever needed was her family, her familiar, and the forest near her home for company. Dr. Hale had been an exception, and she hoped soon that Nuala, Abe, and eventually Hellboy would be too. But Nuada…

With an exhausted sigh, Eve stood herself up from her desk. She had been researching for hours now, and it was now late into the night.

Changing from her clothes into a nightdress that even Dr. Hale referred to as 'old-fashioned', Eve washed her face and began the long, arduous task of brushing her hair.

It was a ritual of hers that brought some comfort to her. Mother had always insisted that Eve and her sisters take excellent care of their hair, as long hair was a tradition for the witches in their family. Of course, back then Eve had hair the color of burnt chestnuts, the same as all her family. Some days Eve often considered Dr. Hale's suggestion of dying her hair back to its old color, but she could never bring herself to. In a way, she supposed she was punishing herself, the silver tresses a constant reminder to herself of what she had done…and a warning to others…

Having had enough of her depressing thoughts, Eve set aside her brush. Turning off all the lights, she curled into bed, hoping that her usual nightmares would relent for just one night.

"Goodnight Bartholomew." She called out towards the terrarium on the other side of her apartment. But when there came no reply, she sat up in her bed.

"I said goodnight Bartholomew."

Again. Nothing.

Knowing this was not a good sign, Eve got out of bed. As she feared, the terrarium empty. Bartholomew had escaped yet again. Briefly looking around, she concluded he was no longer in her quarters and was probably out in the halls now looking for mischief.

"Oh dear, I really ought to do something. But I'm already in my nightdress." Eve fretted.

Typically, she would wait for her familiar to wander back. But since Krauss did not seem to appreciate the damage Bartholomew caused in the laboratory last time, she supposed she had no choice but to go fetch him. Whether he liked it or not, he was her familiar after all.

She threw on a dressing gown for modesty's sake and then left. The hallway was weakly lit, the lights dimmed down at night for those that lived at the BPRD. It alarmed Eve just how dark it was, and she hugged her arms to her chest. She always hated the dark, ever since she was little. Now she feared it for different reasons.

"Bartholomew…" She called out quietly.

No answer.

"Bartholomew, where are you?"

Eve continued down the long hallway, the only sound the padding of her bare feet on the concrete floor. She hated the coldness of it. It felt like forever since she ran barefoot over the grassy fields of Dr. Hale's property or the dirt bare paths that would lead her from her family's farm to the forest. She missed them so much. She missed so many things now. But for the moment she was missing a slimy green familiar.

Well, alright, toads actually had dry bumpy skin. But it annoyed Bartholomew to be called slimy, and right now Eve was annoyed back at him, so slimy thing he was!

"If you do not come out right this second, I swear, you won't have any mealworms for a month!" Eve hissed into the dark, and finally, she received an answer.

"Croak."

Spotting something moving further along the corridor, Eve ran towards it.

"There you are!" She exclaimed, finding Bartholomew squatting in front of a door. He did not acknowledge her as she approached, instead choosing to paw at the door with his stubby little fingers. He clearly wanted inside and huffed to be left alone when Eve knelt down behind him.

"What are you doing? Hm? Silly thing." Eve chastised as she reached for her familiar. Just then, the door slid open, causing Bartholomew to roll forward into the room behind it. The suddenness of it all made Eve gasp, but she nearly shrieked when she noticed a pair of feet standing before her.

It took Eve what felt like an eternity to raise her eyes, tracing the figure in front of her. The feet, pale and white, were attached to legs clad in black trousers, the kind that were laced up tightly from the ankles to knees only to loosen at the hips. Worse was yet to come as she was met with a firmly muscled and bare chest, one clearly belonging to a man. And looking higher, she saw the face of none other than Nuada.

Eve knew she must have looked like a gaping fish to him, but she could not help but gape in her shock at seeing him. She had been vaguely aware their chambers were close to each other, but she did not think them to be this close. Worse, it seems she had just disturbed him after he had showered, for his hair wetly clung to his broad shoulders and in one hand he gripped a towel. In fact, she could see droplets trail down the length of his long, corded arms, which he soon crossed in annoyance over his chest. And yes, he was very clearly annoyed with her.

Oh, Hecate preserve me. Eve whimpered.

"Well?" Nuada asked, his harsh tone making Eve jump.

"Well, what?"

"Was there a reason you were scratching at my door or do you plan to haunt my step all night?" He seethed in aggravation.

"N-no. Sorry. I was just trying to find Bartholomew." Eve replied, barely able to keep herself from stammering and hating herself for it.

The prince quirked his brow, finally looking down to the spot near his feet where Bartholomew had rolled to. The toad was on his back, scrambling to right himself. When he finally did, he slowly waddled back to Eve, having had enough adventure for one night. She gathered him up in her arms, and suddenly aware of her vulnerable position before the prince, stood up.

Despite her shock, some part of Eve noted that this was the closest the two of them had ever been. She could see a dozen little scars etched into the skin of his torso, testaments to his life as a warrior prince. She wondered how he got them and if some of them had been gained in his attempt to revive the Golden Army. She also wondered if she had ever been so close to a half-naked man before. This, coupled with the fact that she was in her night things, made her cheeks burn with mortification.

"He escaped from my room. Sorry." She eventually explained, hoping that it would ease the tension.

It did not.

"Apologies become meaningless when they are too often repeated and not repented."

His tone made it clear he was admonishing her, and it lashed at her like a whip. It was worse than any insult he could have thrown at her.

"I know."

It appeared Nuada was still as angry as the last time she had seen him, though perhaps it was her disturbance that brought it out in him. Or maybe it was just her. For some reason, he seemed to have chosen her as the face of all he hated. Eve could practically feel the burn of it and shuddered at how intense the heat was. It seemed only the loosest of civility kept him from slamming the door in her face right now, and for that much she was grateful. She knew she should make her escape before she happened to say something to set him off again.

And yet…

"But a bad temper is a sign of inferiority. And if we are comparing faults, I would say mine is the lesser." The words slipped out before Eve could stop them, not that she wanted to. Despite knowing it was not wise to provoke the Elven Prince, the way his brows rose incredulously brought out some kind of mischief in her.

"I know I say sorry so often. It seems every other word out of my mouth is sorry these days, but know I mean it when I say I am sorry if anything I said insulted you. It was not my intention."

Eve felt a rush of relief come over her. Though she knew she was not at fault for his anger, she felt better for having apologized to the Prince. That, and she had promised Nuala to try and see past his anger. To Eve's credit, she could. Again, if anyone in this place was to understand him, perhaps it was her. But as far as forgiving him went…

"It was, however, your intention to hurt me when you spoke. Nuala explained to me why you felt the need to do such a thing, and hoped I would understand. She then apologized to me on your behalf." The stern face of the Prince fell a bit there, and Eve could tell it was due to shame. Her words stung him. And, surprised she had an effect on him, Eve found more than she intended to say tripping over her tongue, "And the thing is, I would have understood. I would have, truly. You are not the only creature to suffer at the hands of humans. I know hatred to be such an exhausting thing, a lonely thing, even when justified. But I did not deserve yours. And I did not deserve to be insulted so. For my magic does belong to me you see. It belongs to me more than anything else I possess, even my own heart. I did not take it. I earned it. With blood, tears, and the worst of sufferings, I earned it! So never say I do not understand my own power, never!"

Her speech ended in a harsh whisper, and Eve could hear herself breathing heavily. The frustration for the past couple of weeks, the ache in her, the fear, the grief, she let it all out in those words. Perhaps that made her as bad as Prince, using him as he used her, but at least they were even now. She could feel her eyes misting over, and suddenly it became too much for her to look at him. Looking down once more at the floor, guilt swirled in her for a moment, but her pride stamped it down.

However, Eve concluded it was time to make her overdue exit. And quickly.

"Well…um…alright then. Goodnight."

Eve turned before Nuada had a chance to react to all she had thrown in his face. Her grip on Bartholomew tightened and she could feel her blood roaring in her ears. She didn't know why now her mind chose to panic, but she rushed to get back to her room before she caused the lights to shatter again with her magic. The whole time it took her to get back to her room she could feel the piercing stare of the Prince on the back of her neck. She hoped it was her imagination, but she did not dare look to confirm when she finally made it to her door.

Shutting it, she leaned herself against it, air finally rushing back into her lungs. Not knowing why she started to laugh.

"That…could not have gone any worse." She whispered to herself and Bartholomew.

"Croak." He thoroughly agreed.