Nathaniel was fidgeting entirely too much for her taste. Not that she minded him being nervous, he deserved to be, she thought, but it was starting to be annoying. He was drumming his fingers on the table, wringing his hands, it all made too much noise. She couldn't concentrate. She couldn't concentrate on the fact that her whole life with Jonathan had been a lie. He'd never been honest about himself, lying about where he was going, who he was spending time with... And then he had dared to die without telling her first. She didn't even get a chance to slap him.

"Catherine," he started out, but then cut himself off again. His tone of voice got her attention. He sounded pained, not to mention the fact that he had used her actual name and not said "Cat" like he'd done so many times before.

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

"He just wanted to protect you," Nathaniel then said.

Catherine snorted. "So it was safer that there were people out there who were out for his life and maybe mine, too, and I didn't know? When has not knowing things ever made anything better?"

"Never," Nathaniel admitted, running a hand through his hair, tugging at it. "Listen, I don't know all of his motives. He barely even talked to me. All I know is that he loved you and wanted you safe, and he did what he could to ensure that. And he wanted to tell you."

"When?" Her voice was as hard as steel, cutting through the tension between them, and Catherine could see Nathaniel recoil a bit. It stung, but just slightly, not enough to qualify as regret.

"After the wedding."

Her breath caught in her throat when he said that. Nathaniel winced in sympathy, she could see that, his eyes soft with concern and an understanding that she never knew he had.

He laughed quietly. "He was so afraid of what you would say. But he knew he had to be honest if he wanted to spend his life with you, he just... He thought you needed to be married first. I don't know... I don't know why."

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"Me neither."

She turned her head to the side so that it would be harder for him to see her face. This was even worse face to face. And she didn't even really know him.

"Catherine-"

"What?" she hissed.

He held up his hands in surrender. "He loved you. Please don't hate him."

That made the tears spill over, and she curled in on herself to let him see as little as possible. Of course she could just leave, she knew, but something told her that if she did, they might never have this talk. Whatever it was that she was now involved in, it was big. He knew stuff. And he was human, so - wait.

"Are you human?" she asked.

His reaction to that was almost comical, his face was all scrunched up, his voice about an octave higher. "What?"

"You heard me." Catherine tried her hardest to remain stern. "Are you human?"

"Of course! Why would you ask that?"

"You do realize I met a bunch of Elves today, don't you? Those weren't exactly human."

"Well, yeah, but I..."

"You're different?" she suggested.

"I'm human," he emphasized. "I'm just like you. Well, not exactly, but you get the idea, don't you?"

Catherine nodded silently, still not entirely sure if she should believe him. "Solas can do a glamour. Maybe you are under one right now. How would I know that?"

There was a heavy sigh coming from his direction. "He showed you that, didn't he? Still so proud of it, like a bloody kid."

"But he is a kid, isn't he? I mean, technically? If you don't count the age?"

"Are we getting distracted again?" He laughed faintly. "But yes. Technically, he's still a teenager. And not a very mature one."

There was a short pause during which he seemed deeply immersed in thought. "Listen. I don't know much about glamours, but I know that you can detect them, because the runes you need to place to put it into effect will always shine through. I'd tell you to search me for them, but something tells me you wouldn't be comfortable with that."

Her face was burning. "But you would allow me to."

Amused, he snickered a bit, his left eyebrow raised so high it almost disappeared beneath the hair that hung into his face. "Yes. You interested?"

"No!"

"Thought so." But the broad grin didn't disappear from his face. "Always so innocent, little Kitty-Cat."

She was close to hissing at him, but then thought better of it. That would just add fuel to the fire. Why did he have to be so enfuriating? Why couldn't he, for once, be embarrassed by something, anything? How come there was nothing that moved him? Or was it all just an act?

It wasn't like she'd ever known him. He'd already been shipped away to boarding school when she had first moved here, all she'd had to go on at that time were outrageous reports from people that had known him, and rumours so shocking she hadn't even been sure if she could believe a tiny little part of them. He'd been the notorious bad boy figure every one always pointed to as a bad example. The one parents referred to if they were disappointed of their children. He hadn't been a person, he'd been a character, a caricature.

And then, Nathaniel had been that guy who invaded her and Jonathan's private little bubbles in the holidays, the one that had always made fun of their relationship, the one that had flirted with her, and when that hadn't worked, had arranged for Jonathan to show up somewhere only to find he had been set up for a blind date. She'd always thought he didn't like the attention she got from his brother, or that he thought she wasn't worth it. Some kind of weird twin thing.

Now, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd done that to protect them both, because he somehow had known it wouldn't end well. If he'd maybe just not found a more mature way of dealing with this. Irritated, she shook her head. Nonsense. Here she was, making up excuses for his behaviour. That was a new low, even for her.

"Are we okay now?" Nathaniel interrupted her thoughts, effectively scaring her half to death.

She did her best to hide that fact. "No." Her frown didn't feel as convincing as she hoped it would be.

And, apparently, it wasn't. Nathaniel smiled. "But you do believe me when I say I'm human, don't you?"

"I really hope you are."

"Why?"

She snorted. "Because if you're not, Jon wasn't either." An involuntary shiver ran down her spine.

The look on his face made it quite obvious that he was fighting very hard to not burst out in laughter. "So you're being specieist now, are you?"

"I'm being what?" she asked, dumbfounded.

"Specieist. You know, against a species as a whole? That's unlike you, sweetheart, I would think that you of all people would never think, say, an Elf wouldn't be worthy of having sex with."

"What?" Sweet Lord, he had to be confusing her on purpose. "What does any of this have to do with sex?"

"Now, don't play the shrinking violet again. You may be blushing, but we both know you're no virgin."

"Nate, what-" And then it registered. Sex. As in sex with Jonathan who hopefully, hopefully had been human. High heavens. Naturally, her head was turning beet red. "Nate!"

He appeared unresponsive to her scolding. "Really, Cat, you shouldn't hold such prejudices, it's unbecoming of a young lady. Elves get horny, too!" And then he was cackling, and she couldn't do anything but sit there and watch him laugh.

It took a while for him to calm down.

"Mature," she said when he'd finally stopped giggling. "Very mature, really. And they let you be a teacher?"

He nodded, grinning, his shoulders still shaking. "Well, they have to make school attractive to the kids somehow. Nasty little buggers."

Exasperated, she groaned. "Nathaniel-"

"Are we back to the full names again? I'm disappointed, Catherine," he quipped.

"Can you please be serious?" she exclaimed. This was all quickly growing to be too much for her. "You said we'd talk, so talk!"

That sobered him up fairly quickly. "What do you want to know?"

ᚱᚱᚱ

The Light Elves, apparently, were only living in one of the forests, the one she'd been to. Nathaniel couldn't tell her anything about the Dwarves - and this time, it seemed like he really couldn't, not like he didn't want to - but the Dark Elves, the ones he'd been so concerned about, were living in one of the others.

When he spread out the map she discovered one other thing about her childhood that had been a lie: It was the haunted forest. Jonathan had always told her horror stories about it. Horribly maimed murder victims, ghosts, all sorts of monsters... All lies. Admittedly, all lies to keep her safe, she could see that much, but still: Lies. Her heart was growing heavier by the second.

And then, she remembered something. "So were you lying when you were acting so surprised that all that money showed up out of nowhere?"

Nathaniel winced. "No, I wasn't. That one is a mystery to me as much as to you. I mean, all parties of the treaty are supposed to pay tribute to the Keeper, but not that much. Not by a long shot. I always thought it came out of real estate."

"Huh." She didn't like that one bit. "So I'm supposed to not make them fight, yeah?"

"Basically." He looked as though he hae more to say about that, but restrained himself.

"That's just rubbish," she concluded.

"What?" Nathaniel asked. The confusion was clear on his face.

She groaned, frustrated. "You heard me. They're all adults, they're all centuries older than me, they've got more experience, and it's clear as day that they think they're more intelligent than me. And I didn't choose to do this. They don't want me, and it's dangerous for me, but they're forcing me to do it anyways. Rubbish. Why would I let them do that to me?"

Nathaniel's eyes went wide as she was speaking, his eyebrows rising in alarm. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, trust me, I am."

"No, Cat, you can't-"

"Watch me," she hissed, pushing her chair back and standing up. "They can't do this to me, I won't let them."

Her fiancé's twin was on his feet just as quickly as she was, by her side in the blink of an eye. Concern was burning in his eyes, fear, almost. "No, you don't understand. All you'll be doing is paint a giant bull's eye on your back. They will keep that treaty, and if it means that they'll have to produce a new Keeper."

"Then let them do that!"

"You don't mean that." His voice broke when he said that, and he sounded just pained enough to catch her attention. Why wouldn't she mean that? She asked him as much.

Again, as seemed to be his default reaction to stress, he ran his hand through his hair. "The next Keeper will always be the heir to the current Keeper."

"And?" She didn't understand what would be relevant about that.

"And you don't have an heir yet, Catherine."

She blanched. And then, something deep within her caught on fire. Oh no, he wasn't.

"You're not gonna scare me into this, Nate, that's... that's just..." He looked like he wanted to protest, but she didn't let him. "No, don't. I'm leaving. And when I come back, I want you to be gone."

Without even really looking at what she was doing, she grabbed her bag, threw her purse into it and ripped a coat off of its hanger.

She was out of the door before he had gathered his wits enough to talk.

ᚱᚱᚱ

As terrible as she felt just thinking it, Sylvester's attention was balm to her soul. He was a nice person, much more pleasant than Nathaniel. No swearing, no dirty innuendos. And, most importantly at the moment, he had no connections to anyone with pointy ears.

"Do you want more tea?" he asked.

She nodded her head yes, but, against her expectations, he didn't immediately go to fetch it. Instead, he paused by her side. "No paperwork today?"

Unsure why he was asking this, she shrunk in on herself a bit. "No?"

"Why not?" he wanted to know, his bue eyes sparkling with amused curiosity.

"I have my reasons," she replied carefully. "But I think it's safe to say that I've solved the main problem." Solved it her arse.

But the waiter seemed to buy it, gifting her with another broad smile before making his way to the kitchen area. He was back with her tea a short while after. And again, he wasn't leaving.

"So you're better now? Eating and all that?"

She truly didn't know whether to start crying or to snap at him and ask him why he cared, because his brand of curiosity sure was peculiar. Not of the tabloid variety, more like she was family. But she wasn't. And that was the thing about this that scared her. He was almost acting as if he knew her.

"I had lunch today," she offered tentatively.

"That's a good start," he said, smile still firmly imprinted on his face. "What about breakfast."

The memory made her huff out a laugh. "I kind of got distracted and forgot about it."

"Care to share?" As scary as it was, she actually wanted to. She wanted to tell someone impartial about all the crazy stuff that had happened and hear their opinion about it. If only it weren't for the high likelyhood that that opinion would be "I think you belong in a loony bin".

Sylvester looked unassuming enough. With a name like his she'd expect him to ride a horse and have a monocle, but he was quite the opposite. He seemed lanky despite the fact that his movements belied quite a bit of training, the shock of red hair, freckles and baby blues screamed harmless. But that was an instinct, and until yesterday her instincts had told her Elves weren't real, so she wasn't exactly trusting those right now.

"I met an old friend of my fiancé's, it was quite interesting." There. That was better than just flat out saying "no", wasn't it? And she wasn't lying, so...

"That must've been an incredibly fascinating person."

"You have no idea." She chuckled darkly.

And then, someone called for some kind of dessert, so Sylvester had to leave again. "I'll be right back."

Somehow, she didn't doubt that. And somehow, she didn't mind.

ᚱᚱᚱ

"So... The twin brother, right? What's up with him?" Sylvester asked with a frown on his face.

She buried her face in her hands. "I wish I knew. He follows me around like a lost puppy. It would be adorable if he wasn't so annoying. Or his motives so questionable."

"Why don't you trust him?"

"Why would I trust him?" Catherine countered. "I don't have any reason to, he's just... The change is too quick. I don't believe him."

"People can change, you know that, right? Change is not a bad thing." The expression on his face was open and honest, a strand of his hair sticking up on top of his head, hilariously out of place. It almost scared her how unguarded he looked.

"Of course they can. It's just... I don't think he can. Or at least... I don't know his motives for changing like that. It scares me." It also scared her that she was telling him this, it was so personal, and she didn't even know him that well. But it seemed natural. For some reason, she was comfortable talking to him.

"Too much change lately?"

"Exactly." The tears were stinging in her eyes again, but this time, it wasn't as bad. She wasn't feeling as alone, she was... Feeling almost normal. No Elves, no Dwarves or Hobbits or whatever, just her and a fellow human being, talking. Granted, there were things that would be more normal to talk about, like the weather or football or who hooked up with whom on prom night, but this was pretty close.

"I'm sure it'll get better eventually," Sylvester tried to console her.

She flinched involuntarily. "You know, apart from the whole you killed him, bitch-thing, that's the worst thing people have told me these last few weeks. That it'll get better. As if that'll make everything alright again. As if I'd ever want to forget him." Because she didn't. She wanted him back so badly. She wanted it to stop hurting, to stop feeling like she was dead inside.

"I'm sorry," was all he said to that. She nodded. Of course he was sorry. Everyone was always sorry. It was slowly but surely driving her mad, that little word.

Again, Sylvester was called to another table, and this time, Catherine saw it as her sign to leave. Her bag was packed as quickly as a few pounds were lying on the table to pay for all that tea she'd drunken.

It was still light out, which was a relief to her. She really didn't want a replay of the last time she'd walked home from the café. Not that that Norn-woman would still be interested in her. She had, after all, already been marked, the angry scab on her upper arm a stinging reminder of that scary night. Last night. Damn it, this was all moving way too fast for her to keep up with it.

Something else was moving fast, too. She only registered a blur in her peripheral vision, and then, suddenly, both her eyes and mouth were covered. Shit, not again. She fought. Tried to scream, to kick, to bite. It didn't do any good.

There was laughter, gruff and deep. And then, there was a sharp pain in the back of her head, and she passed out.

Author's Note:

Oh, hi! Fancy meeting you here. As always, a vote would be much appreciated. You know how those can make your day.
If there's something you don't like it, please tell me. I'll put the bloodhounds on its trail.

So, who's kidnapping our dear Catherine? We have three possible guilty parties to choose from. ... Or do we?