Bullets with Butterfly Wings

Act 13 - Interlude

A thought crossed her mind as Natalia Arvoslky stepped outside.

She would draw out Ivan, even if she had to tie Matthew Williams to an end of a fishing rope.

Natalya wasn't particularly fond of the London air, but she was suffocating inside that house. Between her own memories and Katyusha's tears, the Russian girl needed to get out. No one paid attention to her as she quietly escaped, and thankfully Katyusha knew better than to go after her. The daylight hurt her eyes…

Five years ago Natalya was a lady of class and high social standards, now she wears a weary traveler's gown, eyes sunken in with exhaustion and desperation.

Ever since Toris' death she's felt a thirst, one that still hasn't been quenched.

She looked at the city around her.

Is this the city that will finally give her what she wants? What she needs?

The neighbourhood was eerily quiet in response.

Francis and Mrs. Williams both looked dejected at the fact that they were done cooking. Francis has already suggested they make desserts and now that was done too. Mrs. Williams quietly excused herself to go see her husband. Francis was jealous. It was at times like these he wished he had a partner to turn to…

He thought of Arthur.

The Arthur who has already rejected all of Francis' advances.

And then he thought about how that didn't change a thing when it came to his own personal feelings.

The Frenchman sat at the clean kitchen table. He didn't want to think about Arthur, or Matthew or the strangers or the monster…

But he had to distract himself.

So he thought about his mother. Beautiful, beautiful Jeanne-Marie Bonnefoy. If she was here she could soothe away all the pains, she could even fend of evils with a witty smile and a reassuring glance.

Francis hated how weak he was. He shamed his mother with his weakness. Jeanne was a woman of great character and strength, even Arthur was scared of her, and Arthur wasn't afraid of anything- much less openly scared of anyone. She would still be in Matthew's room (because she would have instantly cared for the boy, just as Francis' did,) and her presence would be a pillar of strength for everyone. Even those two women from the east, with dark rings under their eyes would be relieved by Jeanne's presence.

But no, instead they get her cowardly son -the one who can't keep it together, Francis, the boy who can do nothing but cry and hide.

"Do I smell food?"

For a moment, Francis thought it was Alfred raiding the kitchen, but he looked up to find the strange albino.

"Yes, but Mrs. Williams needs a moment of repose before we can begin diner."

The albino looked the Frenchman up and down, "…I don't think she's alone on that boat."

Francis didn't bother defending himself. Instead he got up and grabbed two wine glasses. "Would you care for a drink? Mrs. Williams houses some fine wine."

Gilbert gave the Frenchman a crooked smile, "Is there any beer? Just came from France, I am a bit all wine-out."

Francis ran about the kitchen enough times now to know that –yes there was some beer. So he gave some to German and poured himself a generous bit of wine. "So you are originally from Germany, oui? What did you do there?"

"I was a student. My parents were wealthy so, I had a lot of free time."

"And you studied languages?"

Gilbert nodded, "My father's idea, thought it would be good for business, but of course I took it to the extreme. The only business partners my father could have gotten were French, Russian or Polish…He certainly didn't expect my learning Cantonese."

"Which languages don't you speak?"

"Lots. Greek, Turkish, Serbian… There are as many languages as there are countries, I don't think one person could possibly learn them all," he chuckled. "But that didn't stop me from trying."

Francis hummed as he took longer sips. Gilbert watched the Frenchman drink, he was a bit surprised really, at this man's presence in the whole situation. Gilbert's circumstance was out of the ordinary, but a Frenchman willingly living in London? What was this man's story?

Despite the weary look on the Frenchman's face, Francis decided to stop avoiding the subject anymore.

"Natalya…She…I mean is she-"

"Available? Sort of. But trust me you don't want to go down that path man, and Kat is off limits, alright-"

"Non, non, non! Please, I wasn't going to ask such a thing." The Frenchman actually looked distressed. "Non, I wanted to ask you something, and I beg your pardon if I offend. But she's…for lack of a better word, bloodthirsty -isn't she?"

Gilbert stared at the blonde, and Francis knew he was being seized, he held his breath. Gilbert leaned back in his chair, "…So you could tell? Yeah, she wants Braginski dead- well, deader than he is right now that is. But what of it?" The albino raised a white brow and Francis knew he had to choose his words carefully.

"I…I'm concerned, I understand that we probably have different interests but, I must ask that your party does not use Matthew as bait."

"You know that it can't be helped, right?"

Francis shook his head. "No, it can be. I had a feeling Natalya wanted to use Matthew as bait but now I am certain. But I know a way to draw out Braginski, …without using Mathieu."

Gilbert shifted in his seat, he didn't like where this was going but nodded reluctantly. "How then?"

"Me. I can be the bait."

Matthew was rather surprised to see his cousin sleeping next to him. The Canadian glanced at the window, it was still daylight, but the days were short and the sun was low in the sky.

Surprisingly, Matthew wasn't afraid.

A part of him wanted the night to come, the waiting is unbearable.

And he was tired of just sitting around. He sat up straight, and noticed that he felt much better than he did this morning. He set his feet firmly on the ground, testing the weight and careful to gauge his health. He stood up slowly but was happy to see that he didn't fall over, nor did he felt too dizzy.

He set out of his room, relieved that he wasn't locked or guarded in. Matthew half-expected Arthur to be around a corner, ready to tackle the Canadian back into bed. Not certain on where he was going, he paused in the hallway, and then heard muffled sniffles.

'Katyusha…She must be exhausted.'

But he didn't want to leave her alone,… he chided himself. 'She's not alone Natalya is there with her.'

Even his own reasoning didn't stop him from checking to be sure. He quietly knocked on the door, loud enough that she should hear, but quiet enough that the woman could ignore it if she wished to.

But Katyusha did open the door. As the room was small and he was considerably taller than her, he could see that she was indeed alone. And it took him a moment to realize that Katyusha was speaking to him in Russian, the concern in her voice evident. He knew she was scolding him for being out of bed.

He smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine, please. Don't stress yourself…"

'You idiot, you don't speak Russian, how is she going to understand you?'

Matthew pointed inside the room. "May I sit here?"

Obviously she quickly understood as she got out of his way. Matthew murmmed a thank you and sat on the bed.

"M-Mattvew?"

He looked up at her as she spoke his name. Again he was struck by her beauty. Blushing a little, he looked at his toes and then smiled.

"Katyusha do you want to learn English?"

She tilted her head in response. Her short hair fell over her brows and her eyes lit up with a curious glow. Matthew looked around for anything in arms reach. There was books in the library shelf. Grabbing one he held it out in front of him towards her. "Book."

A spark of understanding shone in Katyusha's grey eyes. "книга." She took it. Opening it she flipped a few pages and then held one and flipped it back and forth. "страница."

"Page. Or…" Taking back the book, he pressed his thumb on the book and watched all the pages move beneath his fingers. "Pages."

She repeated the words and smiled.

They did this for a while, exchanging words back and forth. Matthew could tell that Katyusha was trying very hard to retain the information, every now and then she would name all the words and point to the object it represented. Matthew tried to do the same but ended up just laughing because he could hear how bad his own accent was and honestly… He was having too much fun to really concentrate. It was the way she moved about the room, the way she would smile and how her hair would bounce with every word, it was difficult for Matthew to focus on her words. But Katyusha didn't seem to mind, she was enjoying herself.

"рука."

Matthew looked at her empty hands and furrowed his eyebrows. "Nothing?"

Katyusha smiled at the confusion on his face, letting out a small laugh she moved closer and took his hand into her own. "рука"

Matthew stared at their hands. Her hands weren't soft, instead they were strong and worn with age. But they were small and to Matthew they felt frailer than his own, Katyusha's hands needed rest. He took her hand and lifted them to his lips.

"Hand."

Their eyes locked and for a moment, both of them held their breath.

"Matthew?! Matthew! Where are you!?"

Matthew jumped to his feet and nearly pushed Katyusha over. Holding her in place while steadying himself he blushed and then replied. "I'm here! I'm here, Alfred!"

Whispering a sorry as he passed her, he pulled open the door and limped his was out of Katyusha's room.

Katyusha didn't watch him for more than a second before she closed the door behind him. She moved away from the door and then sat on her bed. She stared at the wall in front of her as she placed a hand over her heart.

The beating in her chest was deafening.

"Alright, it could work, I guess."

"It will work, as long as you don't tell Matthew. I fear the dear boy would object to anyone trying to act as bait."

"Ja, Ja, I get it. Don't tell the kid. What about that English dude would he object?"

Francis shook his head, why would Arthur object? If it means protecting Matthew he would do anything, and it's not like Arthur cared for Francis more than Matthew. He hid the sadness behind a smile.

"So what if there is one less frog in the world, hmm?"

Gilbert gave the Frenchman a doubting look but then shrugged. "Whatever you say."

A moment later, Mrs. Williams entered the room and told the two that it was time for supper, it was going to be an early on, as she wanted a proper one while the sun was still high up in the sky. Gilbert excused himself as he went to get the girls. Francis helped set the table.

Arthur woke up to soft cling of dishware from the next room. He didn't rush himself; instead he stared out into the front yard. From the window he could see all the roads and alleys. Even in daylight there were shadows dark enough to hide in. It unsettled him.

He turned away from the window, instead looked to the dining room, through the doorway he could see Francis chatting, with who Arthur could only assume, with Mrs. Williams.

The frog still looked tired... Arthur noted to himself to scold the Frenchman some more later.

In mid thought, he heard hushed voices coming from the hall in a language that was becoming more familiar. Arthur stood up to investigate to find Gilbert and Katyusha at the bottom of the stairs. The conversation ended with Gilbert sighing loudly.

"Oh, Artie right? Sorry, did we wake you? The other girl -Natalya- left without telling me. I'll go take a look around, you should get to the kitchen, supper's ready."

"It isn't Artie. It is Arthur or Kirkland. Anyways, I'll go look for her, I'm more familiar with the area. And I'm certain the Lady Katyusha would be more comfortable with you at the table with her."

Before the Prussian could object, Arthur grabbed his coat and went out into the familiar air of London. 'If I was a Russian girl, bent on vengeance, which way would I wonder?' Sadly he wasn't creative enough to come up with any sound guesses, so he followed his guts. Figuring that she could easily find her way back to the Williams home, Arthur thought it would be best to take a side trip back to his home. He needed to check in on his younger brother.

It wasn't long before he found a cab, ontop of that, one he recognised. "Goin' home, gov'rnor'?"

"Yes, and if you could, make it quick, please."

He hopped in, and to his pleasure they took off at swift pace. Another wave of fatigue hit him, before Matthew arrived and all this insanity began, Arthur was already working long hours. He was tired and was hoping to take time off to spend it with his childhood friend and to go their country homes and enjoy some fresh England air. Maybe go riding; it feels like it has been forever since Arthur last saw Bessie, his horse. Matthew loved ridding too, even though the Canadian felt awkward on horses. Arthur chuckled at some early memories.

'Arthur! Wait for me!'

'King Arthur waits for no one! If you want to be a knight at my table, you'll have to keep up Sir Matthew!'

The cab pulled up in front of a familiar loft. After paying the cabby, he pulled out his keys and opened his front door.

"Father? Peter? I'm home."

He heard Peter before he saw him. The sound of feet jumping onto the floor and running down the stairs to meet him. "Arthur!"

The boy jumped in his arms and hugged him tightly. While normally Arthur would scold such open affection, he couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, and pat Peter's head gently. "Were you a good boy for mother? Have you done as I've asked?"

Peter only nodded into Arthur's waist, after a moment he looked up. "Is Matthew okay?"

"Yes, he is much better now. There is no need for you to worry. Is Father in his study?"

At this Peter's arms tightened. "Father…doesn't give me lessons anymore Arthur. But yes, he's in there."

"Good boy, now, I'll give you a headstart because little boys always need one…Go pack your things, you're going to visit Allistor okay?"

An expression the boy had all but forgotten he could do, bloomed on his face. "Really!?" He smiled. While Arthur didn't get along with his older brothers, Peter got along with all of them.

"Of course, would I lie to you?"

The smile didn't disappear, "Never!"

With that, Peter rushed back up the stairs. Arthur watched him go. He put his coat away and then went down the hallway, heading to his father's study. He knocked on the door.

"Father? I'm coming in."

The study was in a disarray, there's no way Peter could have lessons in here. Stacks of paper piled high and fell around the floor. Books tossed around the room carelessly… If Arthur hadn't known the cause for such disarray he would have been worried over how out of character this room was.

Arthur picked up one of the books, he heart turned in his chest.

'A Midsummer's Night Dream' by William Shakespeare.

It was one of Arthur's favourite, a magical comedy about fairies, what's not to love? He was always enchanted by fairy tales and ghost stories. Mysteries that could never be explained by man, and those few who would dare cross path or fall upon the world of the paranormal, would either be blessed…

Or cursed.

Eyes red with a dangerous glow. Fanglike teeth stained with blood.

There was nothing enchanting about the monster that had appeared before them. Arthur remembered how, he didn't pause how he pushed Braginski away from Alfred with his cane, how he chased after him in the alley…

" -I'll show you why I have no fear."

Could he still boast this? Now that he knows the truth, that it truly is a monster, a fable they must face.

A nightmare.

"Arthur?"

The young man jumped in his skin, and he felt ashamed for having flinched. "Pardon, father. I was…lost in thoughts. Just as I was coming in to speak with you…"

He hated how childish he was.

"There's no need, Arthur. Obviously I am in no better state."

I should have been here.

"Your mother has been so good to me... too good, actually. She's indulging a scared old man."

She needed me here, Peter needed me here.

"So what is it Arthur? How is Matthew? Good, I hope."

No thanks to me. I should have been paying more attention.

"Arthur?"

I can't save anyone-

"Arthur."

Miria-

"Arthur."

He jolted at the sudden weight on his shoulder and looked up with wide eyes. His father looked old, but it was Arthur who felt frail.

"My son, you have done so well. I am so proud of you. But I think, we are starting to become too heavy of a burden to worry about while you face this obstacle, I shall bring your mother and Peter with me north."

It was as if his English blood started rushing in his veins, his father was gracious enough to help Arthur save face. This was exactly what the young man needed. Not to be consoled, or lectured, but to be reminded of his own motto. Keep calm and carry on. This was Arthur's way of dealing with challenges placed on his path.

Nothing could stop him or phase. The reason why he had no fear in the alley wasn't because it was waiting to catch up on him later. It was because, he wasn't afraid of the monster called Ivan Braginski.

And the next time they would meet, Arthur won't hold back. He will protect what needs protecting and carry on with his life.

And perhaps after all this is over, he would face his true fears.

"Thank you Father. I was just on my way to suggest the same. But I was wondering… Could you perhaps take Francis with you?"

Chapter END

I'm pretty certain this chapter wasn't worth all the waiting. Oops. But it's summer time for me, so I'll try and work on this some more! I had a huge writer's block at the beginning of this chapter but over the months I would try to just work through it, by the end it got easier again. Woohoo~

I AM NOT GIVING UP ON THIS STORY, SO STICK WITH ME GUYS. LOVE YA'LL! 3