Author's Note: Here it is, the second chapter of Madame Rat. Please Review! Constructive Criticism is wanted!
"I brewed it a few minutes ago, so I apologize if it is a little cold."
Baron tucked his hands behind his back politely as his new guest took the cup of tea that he had offered, watching her intently. Her movements had improved quickly from their original lethargy, her grip on the teacup's handle just strong enough to keep it from slipping away. He supposed that her drowsiness was just a side effect from her collision. After all, it had seemed an intense ordeal, and from what he could tell the woman was rather old, something only evident in her eyes and voice, for wrinkles were few and near invisible beneath her silver fur.
The woman raised the cup to her chapped lips, barely responding to Humbert's words, nothing but a small, crackling murmur escaping her. Baron watched as she took a small drink of the liquid, her sip strangely dainty despite her rough and worn appearance, and then quietly replace the cup on its matching saucer with a small clink of china. A smile, genial but subtle, slowly spread across her face at the minute dose, and she looked up at Baron thankfully.
"You needn't worry," she told him before taking another drink, this one long and savoring. "The tea is perfect."
Humbert cast her an appreciative smile, thanking her accordingly, and then asked her politely if he may take her hat.
"I thank you for the tea and that as well," she said as he hung her tattered red cap on the polished, wood stand near the door, placing it just beside his cane. "I'm sorry for not thanking you sooner. It was rude of me."
Baron smiled at her, making his way to the armchair opposite her, his usual spot when dealing with the few who strayed into his world. He took no tea for himself; he had already had his cup, and he thought it wise to save the rest for his visitor, should she need it, which was not implausible.
"There is no need for apologies, miss," Humbert said courteously, taking his seat. "I understand your condition and I would not hold any such behavior against you. I suppose I would act the same way, had I experienced what you had tonight."
The woman nodded quietly, saying nothing. Baron noted the strange look in her eye with a silent interest; it seemed slightly confused, somewhat frightened, as if his words had meant something that she did not understand. But, he did not bring any audible attention to it. He only observed her as she drank her tea, his hand cupped loosely about his jaw, regarding every move she made and perusing its meanings with a precision similar to that of Sherlock Holmes.
The woman let out a somewhat satisfied sigh with her last sip of tea, staring afterward into the dregs that remained in her cup in an appreciative manner. "That was the best cup of tea that I've had in ages," she muttered, speaking more to herself than to Humbert, who listened to her words fixedly nonetheless. A nostalgic smile fixed itself upon her face, the woman probably delving into memories of things long since passed. Baron kept his eyes upon her though she did nothing, allowing her the time to reminisce, his manner patient and collected. Her smile weakened into a half-frown, a sparkle of sadness appearing in her green eyes. "This rat's getting old," she said at length, her rough but pleasant voice tinged with a wistful tone. "It's about time that she drank real tea once again, and not the cheap brew whose bags she still so resolutely sews into the hems of her jackets..."
Muta suddenly lumbered into the room, his newspaper tucked beneath his armpit, an unhappy scowl gracing his wide face. Humbert, whose attention before had been upon the rat woman, turned in surprise at the loud footsteps, staring at Muta warily as the cat made his way further into the quaint office. He stopped at the large red sofa, directly behind the woman. There he remained for a long while, staring down at her almost angrily.
At first glance it would seem that the rat in the red coat took no notice of the towering figure who skulked behind her, glaring impolitely upon her as if she were evil. But, from further examination on the part of Humbert von Gikkingen, it became evident that she knew very well who stood behind her and what he was doing; she only refused, out of the goodness in her heart, to bring any obvious attention to the blatant discourtesy. Muta was doing it all in an attempt of upsetting the rat, as well as showing her his great dislike, and it seemed that she was resolute in denying him the pleasure of succeeding.
After a while of pursuing this end (and getting nowhere near achieving it), Muta resigned, plodding his way heavily to the table at the corner of the room, muttering barely audible, impolite things beneath his breath. "—took my seat," was all that the Baron was able to perceive of all of Muta's ramblings as the cat made his way to the desk, which he sat next to with a heavy thud against the floorboards. Muta's behavior somewhat embarrassed Humbert, but he understood it nonetheless. After all, cats and rats never were naturally inclined to like one another. Quite on the contrary, really. It was this inbred hate and his lack thereof that made Baron different from actual cats, amongst other more obvious reasons, so he of course knew well enough not to act in such a way. But, of course, he could do little about it. He could do no more, it seemed, than apologize to his guest for his comrade's behavior.
"Please forgive Muta for his conduct, miss," Humbert requested, chastising the white cat with a stern look. "It's his nature. He lives on instinct, and he doesn't always think about what he does or says."
"I can tell," the woman replied, glancing at Muta angrily from behind her silver hair.
Muta noted the look quickly, his attention having been set resolutely upon the rat. He exploded upward angrily, his back slouched in an almost predatory way. "What does that mean, Rat?" he demanded, baring his glinting, sharp teeth ferociously.
"It means exactly as I said it," she replied, her tone calm but surprisingly cold.
"Are you calling me a stupid idiot who doesn't think?" he asked, taking a belligerent step toward her.
"I said no such thing," she said, her voice hinting anger. "This young man here," she began, gesturing toward Baron, who watched Muta with a growing shame, "is the one who described you, and I only agreed. He, as well, said no such thing. I believe you yourself are coming up with such descriptions, and it is not my fault, nor that of your friend, if you think of yourself in such a manner!"
"Oh dear," Humbert muttered, shaking his head and tenting his fingers before his mouth as if to keep anything inappropriate from slipping out.
"Don't lie, Rat!" Muta continued, growling now. "You were thinking it!"
A frigid smirk tugged at the corner of the woman's mouth. "Perhaps I was. But we're not dealing with what I thought, but what I said, am I not right?"
"Why you—stupid Rat!" the cat cried, waving an irate fist at her. "I'll claw your eyes out!"
"Now, Muta," Baron broke in warningly, standing up from his seat, his mouth turned down in a disapproving grimace. "Don't say such thi—"
"If you think you can do it, then, for heaven's sake, go ahead and try!" she said, interrupting the Baron in anger, an impolite action that did not seem possible for her to perform just moments ago. Her hands were clutched into fists, an obvious dislike shown in the seething scowl that took her face.
"Alright, then!" Muta started forward, his claws coming out threateningly. "I will, you dirty Rat!"
"Muta!" Humbert exclaimed, rushing between him and the woman, who had stood up to accept his challenge. "Do not do it," he told the large cat in a low, upset whisper, his piercing green eyes glaring up at him in warning.
"Will you stop calling me rat!" the woman suddenly exclaimed behind him, angry. "It's rude, degrading, and I will not have any of it!"
"Well, sorry, Mrs. Come-in-without-introducing-yourself!" Muta screamed back over Baron's head. "Maybe if you were more polite I'd have known it by now!" He said this in a mocking manner, and Humbert was getting a little fed up. He sighed, waiting quietly for whatever defensive comeback the woman, whom he realized then was still quite nameless, would come up with. But there was none. When it became awkward, Humbert decided to turn about and see what had happened.
The rat-woman stood before the sofa, unmoving as if frozen, a look of unhappy shock set upon her face. It seemed as if she wanted to reply very much to what Muta had said, that she wanted to scream at him something that would defeat his last comment. But she was silent, and her mouth did not move to even indicate any desperate attempt at conjuring one. It seemed as if something that Muta said had stunned her totally, though, considering his comrade's last attempt, Baron doubted it. It was strange and unsettling, seeing her stand there in such a manner, but neither of the two cats did or said anything in response, other than stare.
Finally, with a withering sigh, the woman fell back onto the sofa behind her, lowering her head to her chest in a gesture of surrender. Humbert watched her curiously, his attention far away from Muta, who, at the moment, was acting extremely cocky at his supposed victory.
"So you gave up, did you?" he asked her insultingly, his lips curled back into a sneering grin. "Afraid of old Muta, weren't you, huh?"
The woman did not respond, but continued to stare down at her hands, which were clutched together tightly, resting upon her lap.
"You mustn't be too upset about what he said," Baron said at length, deciding there was no other answer to her strange actions than Muta's insult on her manners. "Muta was one to talk. And, anyway, I'd quite forgotten to introduce myself, so we would both be at fault." Baron approached her genially and offered her a gloved hand, his smile encouraging. "My name is Baron Humbert von Gikkingen," he told her. "I didn't quite catch yours."
She was silent, her head still bowed in defeat. Baron's hand did not withdraw, however, and he remained before her, smiling kindly. Muta had quieted down, and he watched Baron with a sort of upset anger at his benevolence toward something as sickeningly horrible as a rat. Unlike Humbert, the large cat regarded the woman as nothing less of one, ignoring the idiosyncrasies that she had, blind to her clothes and the way the seasoned way that she drank her tea. She was nothing more than an old rat.
Several long moments had passed. The woman had yet to reply and Baron had yet to pull back his hand. Muta regarded this with a growl, until he exploded.
"Come on, Baron, just ignore her!" he exclaimed, putting a heavy paw on his comrade's shoulders, threatening to pull him back. "She wants to be rude, let her be, she's nothing but a rat."
"Muta," Humbert said, a slight annoyance barely audible in his voice, "leave her alone. I don't mean any rudeness, but if there is anyone to blame for her silence, it is you."
"Huh!" The large cat looked at Baron in incredulous anger. "What do you mean? I didn't do—"
"I can't remember."
The two turned to the woman, who had finally spoke, though her face remained down.
"Excuse me, miss?" Baron asked, not completely understanding her words.
"I can't remember anymore... that's not good, is it? It is bad to forget..."
"You've forgotten something?"
Humbert saw her claws dig into her knees, a painful looking action. Moments later, a drop of water fell onto the red fabric that spread across her lap, followed by bead after bead, slowly dampening her coat. She was crying.
"I can't believe I've forgotten... I can't remember it, I can't remember anything!" She said this in a sort of desperation, the tears beginning to fall faster. Baron and Muta exchanged a glance.
"You've forgotten your name?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her.
"My name, my age, my home... Almost everything!" she told him, shaking her head unhappily.
"You remember nothing?" Baron asked.
"All I remember... is that I have to find him... he's waiting for me..." She stood up suddenly, her face stained with tears, a sad but determined look on her face. "That's why I'm here! I need to find him! It's important!"
"Who's 'him'?" Muta asked, snubbing his nose at his curiosity, obviously not too pleased at its existence.
The woman gave him a look, one that was more questioning than angry. She fell silent again, as if not knowing how to answer. At length, she said, with a shuddering, unhappy breath, "I don't remember."
Well, that's the end of it! I want to answer to a comment I got from Thundercat...
You needn't explain to me what a Mary Sue is; I am one of that 90 percentthat you mentioned that abhor them. This isn't meant to be a Mary Sue (I love the Haru/Baron pairing; it's adorable!), and besides, Madame Rat is much too old(amongst several other reasons) to be in love with Baron. I understand the worry, but you don't have to! This isn't the first time I've written a fanfic; I have an idea what might or might not get me killed by the fandom.
-Guille van Cartier