AN: Hello again from the hectic world of University :')

Okay, so things have calmed down a little bit recently, thus the (relatively) quick chapter :)

In regards to the audio series idea that I mentioned last chapter, the wonderful Flame1213 suggested that I do narration and have a few other peeps do the character voices, so is there anyone who's interested in that? (I have no idea when or if this thing will happen, but I would like to do it :))

Don't forget to check out my blog over at: mysticpuma. wordpress .com !

ON WITH LE CHAPTER!

He flew through the halls, his feet hardly staying on the ground for even a second, desperate to reach her before she did herself any permanent damage, forgetting temporarily that he had been the initial cause of her distress. He was too worried about her health, sat outside in the biting wind.

It wasn't until he reached the doors to the courtyard that it occurred to him that his presence might not help.

Arianna, meanwhile, was sinking into a dream-like state, induced by the fact that her body, even with the extra padding she had regained thanks to her return to regular meals, could not handle the cold and was attempting to shut down to preserve what little energy it could in order to keep itself warm. Her eyes had slipped closed, and her breathing had slowed to a steady in and out as she sat and shivered.

A creak from the doors opposite her managed to creep through the fog of her mind and push her eyes open a crack.

A deep, distorted voice boomed out from the direction of the noise. "ARIANNA." It called, and she felt her muscles stiffen as she stared into the darkness as a pair of red eyes appeared, illuminated in the black shadow of the building. Fear built up in her, and she tried to force her limbs to move. It was slow progress, but she managed to scramble to her feet, stumbling backwards away from their advance. But her legs were cold. They felt like they'd frozen and they wouldn't obey her, so she soon found herself staring up at the cloudy sky as she fell onto her back and fresh, hot tears spilled from her eyes.

"Arianna!" the voice was quieter, but it still echoed through her mind. Despite that though, she could concern in its tone, beneath the fog of fear and cold.

Before she could comprehend what was happening, she had left the ground, a pair of arms lifting her from the flower bed and carrying her back into the warm building. She thrashed against whatever was carrying her, but it was no use. She was placed unceremoniously on the hard wooden floor and two small, blue-ish lights appeared before her.

A sudden warmth began to seep into her skin and as she regained feeling in her limbs and mind she realised it was a warming spell, and two "light" spells had been cast to illuminate the area.

Still, she was still disorientated and confused, sleep deprived as she was. And it took the warmth of a hand on her shoulder and the repetition of her name to finally bring her back to reality.

"Arianna, please." She heard as the last vestiges of fog cleared from her mind. Hieronymous was staring into her eyes, now less vacant as she came to her senses at last. He breathed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes briefly before opening them again to stare, unblinking, into his wife's eyes.

"I… I'm sorry… Am- am I in trouble?" she sounded like a child, frail, weak and scared. Her voice was hoarse from the cold and tears kept dripping from her eyes.

"Not this time." His voice was harsher than he'd intended, because she flinched. But then, it was his normal voice. He sighed, standing up. She was safe now, that was all that mattered. "Just see that you get back to your dormitory." She had clearly been distressed by his presence, so he hurried back towards his own room, not wanting to cause her any more pain.

Arianna stared after him, frozen to the spot until he disappeared from her line of sight. When his hat disappeared around the corner, she let out the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Slowly she pushed herself up, using the wall for support, and headed back to her room, wrapping the cloak tighter around her shoulders. Wait… Cloak?

She paused in her advance in order to look at the fabric between her fingers. Dark grey, soft… Familiar.

His cloak. When had he given her his cloak…?

Why did you give her your cloak, you foolish man? He berated himself as he pushed the door to his rooms open. He rested against the door for a moment, rationalising it in his head.

She was cold, I could hardly leave her to freeze to death. Yes, that seemed fair. But she doesn't want anything to do with you. She was terrified of you! Why give her something to remind her of that? He growled under his breath, of course… Stupid. He thought again, slamming his fist into the door in anger.

Why…? Arianna's head spun. Why had he given her his cloak? What could it- Was he… worried about me? If he was worried, perhaps there was hope. Perhaps she could make it up to him, and he wouldn't be ashamed of her!

Don't be stupid… He hates you, remember? He probably didn't know it was you until he came down. Her mind argued, but for once instead of listening to it, Arianna scowled.

That doesn't explain the cloak! He doesn't hate me… Oh I've been so stupid! We've both been overreacting again! She mentally slapped herself for that. But despite her revelation, the niggling voice still had some hold over her thoughts, and she couldn't help but think that she'd just leave it.

When she climbed back into bed, she pulled the cloak off. She was about to throw it over to the end of the bed to give to him some other time when she decided to bunch it up and wrap her arms around it. She took a long breath, drinking in the smell of him that still clung to the soft fabric. After a few moments, heavy breathing indicated she had fallen into a peaceful sleep.

Hieronymous had no such luck. His wife's actions had hardly suggested to him that things between them would be resolved anytime soon. If anything, he felt like all hope of ever regaining her trust was gone. Surely he had hurt her far too many times now for her to ever consider him worthy of her.

In a sort of daze, he drifted back to the window, only to stare down at the shattered glass on his carpet and the dark stain that had spread through the fibres. With a heavy sigh, he sat on the edge of his bed, still staring at the shards of glass, which caught the moonlight as if began to stream into the room again.

How could it have taken him so long to realise how important she was to him? He tried to figure it out, but he just couldn't fathom how somebody like him, who was so academically successful, would need something so drastic to shove in his face how much he truly cared for his accidental bride.

Well there's your answer. He thought venomously. You may be Academically smart… But Emotionally? He sighed again, remembering Arianna's words at the end of the year…

"You know so many things that I don't, about magic and the world. But about life… I don't think you do." Her voice chimed in his memory, causing him to drop his head into his hands in exasperation.

"She was right." He mumbled under his breath.

Since Violet had gone, he had pulled away from society, from the normality of life. He had buried himself in books and magical study, leaving every possible trace of his old life behind. Was it such a surprise that with that he had thrown away any growth he had made emotionally in those teenage years? All he associated his teenage-hood with was pain…

And it had become apparent that whenever he got close to recapturing the innocent joy of youth that Arianna had been continually trying to bring back into his life… He pushed it away. He shrank back into his cloak and his walls of books, hiding his true feeling behind harsh rebukes and barbed words.

If this goes on, all I will do is corrupt her… Turn her into a twisted version of myself. Could he do that to her? He didn't think he could bear it… To see the light of her eyes turn into the dim, overcast abyss that his had become.

"How do I fix this…?" he said aloud to nobody in particular. Perhaps it was to the sky that he spoke, in the hopes of a sign. Perhaps it was the shattered glass on the floor, with it's sharp edges and wasted relief soaking into the floor.

Or perhaps… he was asking her. Asking when he knew he wouldn't get an answer. Only because he would never dare to ask it in person, to afraid of showing himself to be vulnerable.

"Tell me what to do…"

Short, yes... But it just worked ending there. I am thinking I might edit some of the chapter boundaries for if the audio series occurs and/or if I upload it to AO3 at some point :) xx