#aeudan

Outside, the crossguard unfolded a flimsy collapsible chair by the crosswalk and settled down into it with his stop sign resting across his lap.  He was an older man, with wispy white hair tucked underneath a faded red baseball cap and wore wire-rimmed glasses.  The moment he relaxed in the chair, his head turned towards Aeduan’s parked car.  He nodded in greeting and Aeduan nodded back.  It was their thing.

Aeduan was so used to people avoiding him when he was in uniform that such a small, customary gesture was unnerving.  He was still getting used to it.  Sometimes he forgot he wasn’t wearing it anymore.  Or carrying a gun.  Not that he needed one to be scary.  There were plenty of inmates who could testify to that.

The unmistakable sound of a bell announcing the end of the school day rang in the distance.  Soon enough kids would be pouring out the doors.  It would be some time before Lisbet and Cora would be out though.  Aeduan knew by now that Lisebt liked to chat with her teachers after class, ask any one of the dozen follow-up questions she always had about the lesson or go over a problem she got wrong on the previous night’s homework.  Aeduan loved that about her.  And Cora would wait dutifully by the door until she was ready.  He loved that too.

Aeduan continued to rap his fingers on the steering wheel as he watched the crossing guard guide the first and most eager to start their weekend group of kids across the street.  Aeduan’s attention stayed with one boy about Cora’s age, around 6 or 7, who broke off from the group, hustling as fast as his little feet could take him.  Waiting for him outside a car was a man, presumably his father, and when the boy got to him, he jumped into his arms, backpack and all.  The man held him tight and pressed a kiss to his cheek before setting him down and ushering him into the backseat of his car while the kid started jabbering away.

His coffee was down to its very last dregs, but Aeduan took an absent sip from the cup anyway, staring hard at the dad tossing the kid’s backpack in the trunk and closing it shut, all the while the boy had his head poked outside the open window and was still talking animatedly as if he couldn’t wait the 5 seconds it would take for his dad to get into the car.  

Aeduan remembered when Ragnor used to surprise him after school to pick him up in his patrol car.  Such a spectacle.  All the other kids would watch in envious fascination as Aeduan ran to the man in the intimidating uniform waiting by super cool sleek car with the silently flashing lights that he put on just for his son.  They’d hover around the car, asking all sorts of questions and beg to hear the siren, to which the police officer would oblige to much cheering.  Only when the young pretty school teacher caught up to the boy and slipped into the arms of the man to kiss him would the children scatter.

Aeduan never understood why Ragnor had pushed so hard for Cora and Lisbet to go to Covent Academy.  He had stopped coming when Aeduan was ten.

Without much warning, Aeduan slapped his hand down on the steering wheel, and Owl, who had been close to falling asleep, jerked awake confused.  Aeduan shook his head, furious with himself for what he was about to do, but he couldn’t stop himself.  Something about seeing that little boy outside with his father flicked a switch in him, and he shifted jerkily in his seat to gain access to the phone in his back pocket.  When he’d freed it, he didn’t give himself a second to think about it. He swiped open his phone and pressed call on his most recent contact.

“Hello,” a melodious voice said from the other end.

“Why haven’t you called me back?” Aeduan demanded.

There was a pause.  “Aeduan. How... unexpected.”

“Unexpected?” Aeduan repeated in a barely controlled growl.  “Have you already forgotten our agreement?”

“Of course I haven’t forgotten.”  The words were spoken slowly and calmly.  There was no defensive edge to them.  That only spurred Aeduan on.  

“Then why haven’t you called?  You said you would look over your schedule and get back to me.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Evrane mused lightly.  The casual observation scraped over Aeduan’s tightly-wound nerves.  “Well, now that you have me, why don’t you and Owl come in on Monday?”

“Monday,” Aeduan deadpanned.  “That’s it?  You don’t need to look over your schedule?” He expelled a bitter breath. “What, were you just waiting for me to call you?”

Silence answered him, and somehow Aeduan knew Evrane was smiling.  He exhaled deeply.

“You were waiting for me to call you,” he said again, resigned to the truth.  But his anger could only be kept at bay for so long, and with a surge of resentful understanding he bit out, “A test.”

“Aeduan,” Evrane said, his name sounding sad on her tongue.  “If Owl is to be your child, she needs to be your priority.  Always.  You can’t wait around for others to cater to her needs.  And you certainly can’t let your pride get in the way of doing what’s in her best interest.  I didn’t mean for this to be a test. I- ” She cut herself off as though afraid to continue.  Aeduan’s ears latched on to the silence hovering on the other end of the line, overly aware of his heart beating against his ribs.  “I want to help Owl, Aeduan.  But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.  Owl’s issues are now your issues.  You’re just as much a part of this agreement as she is.  I know this isn’t easy for you, but maybe… maybe it’s not so easy for me too.  I never thought I’d get a second chance to help you.”  

Aeduan shook his head, looking down at his lap, thankful that she couldn’t see him.  “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured.  He recognized the irony in saying that possibly to the one person responsible for saving his life.  Perhaps Evrane heard it too because she chuckled a second later, a watery sound that broke Aeduan’s heart.  

“You’ve made it this far, haven’t you?”    

Something that might have been laugh escaped Aeduan’s throat.  “No thanks to you.”

There was that silent smile again.  “Enjoy your weekend with the girls. I’ll see you and Owl on Monday.”  And with that Evrane hung up.  

Aeduan lifted his head and checked his rearview mirror; Owl was watching him curiously as though to ask if he was alright.  He gave her a tired smile.

If Owl is to be your child…

If he was going to be a father.  That’s what Evrane really had wanted to say.  And she was right.  About everything, of course.  Aeduan wasn’t an idiot.  He could be stubborn as all hell, be disagreeable to even the most patient of people, but he wasn’t an idiot.  He knew when he was in the right and he knew when he was in the wrong, and perhaps the worst thing worth knowing was that he had been wrong on all counts when it came to Evrane.  

He’d have to try harder.  For Owl. For his-

He couldn’t even say the word.  She wasn’t his anything.  Not yet.

The school lawn was littered with children now.  After about ten more minutes, the front doors opened again and both Lisbet and Cora appeared.  With a sharp pang of realization, Aeduan recognized Sister Nadya in the doorway behind them and watched as she waved goodbye to the girls.  He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her kind smile, discernible even from such a distance, and focused on the two dark-haired girls coming towards him, the smaller of the two rushing ahead of the taller, more subdued one.  Aeduan undid his seatbelt and quickly checked that no other cars were driving by before opening the car door.  

“Slow down, Cora,” he called as he walked around to the sidewalk.  “It’s still icy.”

“The snow is almost all gone,” Cora huffed between pants, slowing down as she got closer to Aeduan.  She was so small and the enormous backpack hanging from her shoulders looked almost comical.

“Still.”  Aeduan knelt down on one knee as Cora skidded to a halt in front of him and threw herself into his arms.  When she eventually pulled back, he perused her up and down. “Where’s your coat?

Cora jutted her thumb over her shoulder.  “In my backpack.”

“Wouldn’t it be more useful on you?”

Cora shrugged.  Lisbet came shuffling up behind her and Aeduan straightened up from the ground.  She, at least, was wearing her coat.  

“Hey,” he said, pulling her into his side with one arm, while his other hand became occupied with Cora’s little fingers.  “How was school?”

“Good,” she said, and smiling shyly she added, “I got a 105 on my math test.”  The statement wasn’t at all boastful or fishing for recognition.  Even as she said it, her expression was small and subdued.

Cora gawped at Lisbet while Aeduan pulled her in closer.  “How is that possible, Aedie?  I thought 100 was the highest grade!”

“There was a bonus question,” Lisbet explained.  “Sometimes teachers add them to give students a chance at extra points.  Usually they’re harder than the rest of the test, but they can really help you out if you’ve messed up on other questions.”

Cora’s eyes widened.  “And you got it right?”

“Yep,” Lisbet nodded and Cora let out another hushed Wow.

“Good work, Lis,” Aeduan congratulated, giving her shoulder an extra squeeze.  Her gray eyes sparkled up at him as she gave in to a proud smile.  

“Aedie,” Cora chirruped, tugging at his hand.  “I wrote a book today!”

“You did?” he said, being sure to give her his full attention.  “What’s it about?”

“It’s about a girl who becomes friends with a bird and he leads her on a magical quest and then they meet a troll who tries to kill them, but he’s not really a bad guy and is just really sad and then... ”

Cora was practically dancing circles around him with excitement as she prattled on and on about her story.  “That sounds like quite a tale,” Aeduan finally managed to slip in when she eventually needed to take a breath.  “Why don’t we read it tonight before bed?  How’s that sound?  But, c’mon, let’s get going.  Owl’s waiting.  You can tell me more about it on the way home.”

The girls nodded and handed Aeduan their backpacks to store in the trunk while they piled inside the car.  Once Aeduan shut his car door and buckled up, he twisted his head over his shoulder to look at all three of his girls.

Owl sat in between Cora and Lisbet in the middle strapped into her car seat and looked utterly miserable.  Her arms and legs sat limp in total defeat.  Oh yes, an extra long nap was in order the second they got home.

His sisters liked Owl.  There hadn’t been any misgivings on their end when he sat them down and explained to them what his hopeful plans for Owl were.  He hadn’t expected anything different.  He knew their hearts and knew they would accept her as a part of their family just as he had done with them 10 years ago.

Owl, on the other hand, had been less than thrilled about the two unexpected additions to her new family, and little had changed since then.  It had become blatantly clear that it was not Owl who had to prove herself worthy of Cora and Lisbet’s love, but the other way around.

The girls never complained though, for which, Aeduan was grateful.  Cora was sure to read to Owl her story the moment they got home (whether she was interested in hearing it or not) and Lisebt would no doubt help Aeduan make dinner and take care to do little things like chop up Owl’s food into smaller pieces and refill her sippy cup even if it wasn’t entirely empty yet.

“Everyone buckled up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Cora, who had a tendency to put her belt strap behind her back.  

“Yes,” they answered in unison.  Owl’s scowl deepened. His angry puffy marshmallow.

“Alright then,” Aeduan said, turning to the steering wheel and starting the car.  “Let’s hear more about this story, Cora.”

*   .   *   .   *   .   *   .

“Thanks again for doing this.  You have my unending gratitude.”

Ryber Fortiza stood at Iseult’s desk on Monday afternoon, a stack of books towering between them.  A week had gone by since she started working in the Children’s Room and Ryber’s books had finally arrived.

“It was no trouble at all,” Iseult told her.  “I’m just glad you were able to get enough copies in time.  Eridysi Goechenka is still in high demand, if you can believe it.”

“Oh I believe it,” said Ryber.  “She’s one of my favorite authors.  I’ve read all her works. This,” she gestured proudly to the tower of books, “is my way of plaguing my obsession onto everyone else.”

Iseult eyed the top of the stack and the silver foiled words carved into the book’s worn cover.  Sisters of Sight.  She picked it up fondly.

“You picked a good one.  They’re all good, but this is a classic.”

Ryber’s eyebrows shot up.  “You’ve read it then?”

Iseult nodded.  “Only a dozen times.”   Ryber smiled at that, and the sight of it, all teeth and no reservation, made Iseult feel more intrepid.  “I’m actually in the process of trying to collect all of her published works.  It’s kind of a mini project of mine.  It’s hard though.  Some of her more obscure books are out of print.  Things written earlier in her career before she became well-known.”  

Ryber heaved a sigh of dismay.  “Why do they do that?”

Iseult knew who ‘they’ were.  Publishers.  She shook her head solemnly.  “I don’t know. It breaks my heart… Words that will never see the light of day all because publishers don’t think there’s a market for it.”

“You would think that with her death they’d want to capitalize on that.  Also, awful,” Ryber added with a disgusted grimace to Iseult.  Iseult nodded in agreement.

“It’s a shame.  I bet she has so much more to say, even though she’s not here...” Iseult trailed off.  She sighed and returned Sisters of Sight on top of the stack of books.  “The director of this library told me that she has a first edition of The Raider King buried somewhere in her attic.  She said she’d bring it in when she found it.”

Ryber’s eyes, more grey than blue, widened.  “Seriously?  That’s insane!”

“I can text you if she ever finds it.”

“Yes, please!  Jeez, why on earth would she keep it packed away in an attic?”  Ryber looked positively baffled by Evrane’s life decisions.  “I bet it’s worth a lot of money.  Not that I would ever sell it if it were mine,” she added hastily, as though reading Iseult’s mind.  Even now, with her funds dwindling by the day, she’d never be able to part with such a treasure.  

“I’ll let you know,” Iseult assured her as Ryber pulled the mountain of books across the desk and strategically lifted them into her arms.  The tower wobbled precariously against her chest. “You’re not walking home with that, are you?” she asked cautiously as Ryber braced the top of the stack with her chin.  

“Nope,” she replied with a shaky laugh and she tried to take a step without causing the books to come tumbling down.  “My boyfriend is picking me up.”

“Good.”  Even though Ryber looked ridiculous, Iseult’s cool expression never wavered.  Safi would be rolling around on the floor by now.  When Ryber was halfway to the door, she tried looking over her shoulder back at Iseult, but with a glance at the books in her arms, thought better of it.

“You’re going to come to book club, right?” she called softly so as to not disturb anyone else in the Children’s Room.  “You and Safi?”

Iseult’s nose twitched and she pressed her lips together.  She was glad Ryber wasn’t able to see her.  “I don’t know.  Safi isn’t much of a reader.”

“Oh don’t worry about that!  Kullen always drags his roommate into our meetings since he lives there, and he almost always never reads the book.  It’ll still be fun.”

“I- I’ll have to check my work schedule.  Safi’s too.”

“Great,” Ryber said, sounding so genuinely pleased, Iseult felt terrible about the story already materializing in her head that she could use to get out it.  “It’s on a Friday night, so at least there’s no classes to worry about.  Unless you’re one of those weird people who elected to take a night class.”

“I’m not.”  Guilt twisted into regret.  Even without her made up story, she was already a liar.  She’d have to tell Ryber eventually that she’d dropped out of school.  If not now, then definitely before the book club.  Better to come clean to one person about being a failure than to a whole room of strangers.

“Perfect.”  By now Ryber had made it to the door.  This time when she spoke, she managed to turn and face Iseult.  The stack of books was still propped under her chin.  “I forgot to ask, how’s everything going here?”

Iseult opened her mouth to answer, but just then, a figure appeared in the doorway, looming behind Ryber.  Cropped dark hair, leather jacket, sparkling blue eyes.

Aeduan.

He marched around Ryber, barely giving her or the stack of books in her straining arms a second’s glance.

“Good,” Iseult somehow managed to respond after finding her breath.  “Everything’s good here.”

That was about to change, judging by the dark gaze fixed on her as Aeduan stalked towards her, which was a shame because things really were going better than they had when she first started over a week ago.  Her lungs contracted uncomfortably.  He didn’t look happy.

Ryber seemed to understand that their conversation was over.  Unable to wave or move her head, she shot Iseult a parting glance and strained smile, possibly hoping to convey something along the lines of, Good luck!  Hope he doesn’t eat you for lunch!

When Aeduan reached the desk, he slapped an envelope down between them like he was throwing down a gauntlet.

“I’d like to get a library card.”

The words were as cold as his eyes.  Not daring to risk stuttering in front of him, Iseult swallowed and reached for the envelope.  She peeled open the slip of paper and pulled out its contents.  There, in official typed writing, was an apartment lease for one Aeduan Amalej.  

“Good enough?”

Iseult’s eyes slowly rolled up to meet his penetrating stare.  Challenging her.

She nodded, still not trusting herself with words, folding the document with care and tucking it back into the envelope.  When she held it out for him, she finally felt brave enough to speak.

“Perfect.”

Aeduan nodded sharply, though there was no sign of satisfaction in his face.  A small dent still worried itself between his brow - possibly a permanent fixture on his otherwise smooth face.

Iseult gathered the necessary materials and laid them out in front of him, overly aware of him watching her, scrutinizing her every move.  But her motions were fluid, poised, lending no indication to how she felt on the inside.  

“I’ll need you to fill out this form with all of your up-to-date information,” Iseult explained.  She was pleased, albeit surprised, with how commanding her voice sounded. “When you’re finished I’ll enter you into our database and have a card for you to sign.  That’s all.”

Again, Aeduan nodded, his hard expression a slate of ice as he picked up the pen Iseult had laid out for him and got to work on filling out the form.

Iseult thought it unlikely that he’d appreciate her hovering, so she sat down at her computer and busied herself with starting his entry, all the while sneaking glances at him out of the corner of her eye.  When he finished, he returned it to her without saying a word. In the minutes that followed, all that spoke between them was the clicking Iseult’s keyboard.

“Almost done,” Iseult hummed, more for her own reassurance than Aeduan’s.  He still watched her like a hawk.  She could feel the tremble in her hands.  It was a miracle she wasn’t mis-typing everything.  

With his last bit of information saved, she opened a drawer next to her and grabbed a stack of library cards.  She slipped one out and scanned it into the computer. “I just need you to sign here,” she pointed to the line underneath the card’s barcode “and then you’ll be all set.”

Aeduan’s eyes rested a moment too long on the spot where Iseult’s finger pointed, and with a flicker of horror, she realized her nail was still covered in the ridiculous sparkly purple nail polish Safi had insisted on trying out on her a couple nights ago when they were both bored.  Well - Iseult was bored.  Safi was merely bored with studying and claimed it was stifling other more imaginative and wholly worthwhile endeavors.  Safi’d even tried painting on a heart, which turned out to look more like a blob than anything.  

“Just like yours!” she’d joked.

The clipped way he took the card from her sparkle encrusted fingers told Iseult exactly how he felt about her “blob”.  She watched him scribble his signature, and she imagined how he’d react if she offered him the congratulatory glitter pencil and chunky animal eraser that was customary with all new patrons that signed up for a library card in the Children’s Room.  Better skip the bubble party too.  

Aeduan straightened, extending the pen to Iseult.  She took it and with a weak sort of smile said as they did to all their new patrons: “Congratulations.  You are an official owner of a library card.”

Aeduan frowned at the card, his expression unreadable.  Oh yeah.  Definitely skip the bubble party.

Still staring at the card, he began to walk away.  Iseult was about to release a breath of relief when she remembered something.

“Sir, I almost forgot.”  She held up a finger asking him to wait when he turned around.  She didn’t miss the flash of annoyance in his eyes as she hurried into the back office, but it really would only take a second.  When she reappeared, she was holding a book with a little black cat on the cover.

“I held onto this.  In case you came back,” Iseult explained, holding the picture book out to him.  “I remembered your little girl wanted it and thought I’d hold onto it so no one else would check it out.  I wouldn’t have wanted her to be disappointed if you came back and it wasn’t here anymore.  I know it’s a Halloween book and the chances of someone checking it out in January are slim, but you’d be surprised with how often holiday books get checked out throughout the year.  They-”

Stop talking stop talking STOP TALKING.  Iseult clamped her mouth shut.  Where was her stutter when she needed it?  

Aeduan was staring down at the book, frowning just as he had with the library card.  He made no move to take it. Iseult swallowed.

“I-it’s yours if you want to take it,” she tried, pressing the book forward bravely.

Slowly, Aeduan reached a hand and took it.  

“Thank you…” The words trailed off, and though he had already talked to Iseult before, he sounded as though he had not spoken in years.  Or perhaps it was just the words.  Rough and unused.  He cleared his throat, then spoke again.  “That’s… that’s very kind of you.”

Iseult only watched him studying the front cover of the book.  She didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t angry, that much was clear.  The only thing that was clear, really.  

Aeduan turned away, still considering the book.  Brow furrowed like he’d never seen anything like it.  

“Sir,” Iseult called after him.  He twisted around and though his face was as it always was, all of its hardness was gone.  He looked almost in a daze as he blinked at her. Younger, somehow.  She pointed apologetically to the book in his hands.  “I need to check you out.  Check the book out.”

Heat rushed to Iseult’s face faster than she could correct herself.  Fuck, did she really just say that?

“Oh.”  Aeduan looked down at the book, then back to her again.  For a third time, he walked back to the desk and handed her the book.  

“Thanks.”  She scanned the book, his account already open from when she set up his card, and printed a due date receipt.  “You’re all set,” she said, handing the book back to him, along with the slip.  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No,” Aeduan said immediately.  A little bit of the usual hard edge in his voice had returned.  He tucked the book under his arm and turned away, and so Iseult did the same, thinking she should probably check on the the returns bin before it overflowed.  It was afternoon and the place would soon be swarming with the after school kids. However, Iseult was only halfway to it when Aeduan’s voice pinned her to the spot.

“Actually-” Iseult turned halfway and looked over her shoulder only to find Aeduan marching back to her desk with all the conviction of a soldier about to head into battle, possibly to his impending death.  Her spine straightened as though she were about to do the same. It certainly felt that way.  

“I could use some help.  I need...” Iseult watched the muscles in Aeduan’s face tighten as he fought for the right word.  “A recommendation,” he finally said, then added, “If you have the time.”

It almost sounded like he was hoping she wouldn’t have the time.  His pale eyes searched her face, and once again she was drawn into their frozen depths.  She licked her lips and gave a little shake of her head. “I’m not too busy to help.  That’s… that’s why I’m here.”

Aeduan nodded, that perfunctory little jerk of his head that he seemed to favor over words.  Iseult walked around the desk to meet him, and for some reason this was very different from where she had just been.

He towered over her about a head and a half.  This close she could smell the worn leather of his jacket and… something else.  Something familiar. Whatever it was made her nose wiggle and her insides squirm.  

Aeduan looked at her questioningly.  She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and looked out over the children’s room, pretending not to notice.

“What kind of book do you think you’re looking for?” she asked, then pointing to different shelving areas explained, “We have toddler board books and picture books by the play area.  Nonfiction is by the computers and study tables. Then,” she indicated the shelves lined up in the middle of the room and hugging the walls, “we have early readers, middle grade, and young adult fiction.  Anything older than that and you’ll have to go upstairs.”  

Aeduan said nothing, surveying the room absently like he knew all this.  Iseult watched him, thinking that he would eventually say something.  But he didn’t.

“What reader age are you looking for?” she prompted patiently, tucking her hands behind her back.  

Aeduan opened his mouth, then snapped it shut.  The pulse in his jaw ticked.  If a simple question such as that had irritated the man, then he was truly beyond Iseult.  His eyes narrowed along the shelves of books.

Finally, he turned to look at her.  “She’s young.  Doesn’t read much.” He cast out the words like a challenge.  As always, Iseult, dutifully, didn’t let the coldness stir an ounce of emotion on her face.

“Then perhaps another picture book,” she said, and feeling a sense of foreboding in burdening him with another question, she asked, “What does she like?”

Aeduan’s frown returned.  Thinking.  “Cats.”

“Cats,” repeated Iseult slowly.  Well, it was a start at least.

“And animals,” Aeduan said with sudden conviction.  “More than people.”

A burgeoning smile trembled along the seam of Iseult’s lips.  It sounded like she and Aeduan’s mysterious little friend had something in common.

“I think I know exactly what she might like.”

With that, Iseult led Aeduan through the low-standing maze of shelves, weaving in and out of the way of any children they crossed paths with in the aisles, all the while Aeduan followed unquestioningly behind her, nodding and listening to her suggestions as she pulled book after book from the shelves and handed each one to him.  By the time they’d walked away from the last row of the Z’s, he had a generous pile stacked in his arms.  

“That should keep her occupied for awhile,” Iseult commented, making conversation as Aeduan inspected the selection.  She wasn’t quite sure when, but somewhere along their little excursion, his demeanor had softened.  He even looked through the books with something that might have been genuine satisfaction.  Incredible.  

“Would you like to check out?”

“I was thinking,” Aeduan grunted, then stopped - Iseult assumed from his slightly conflicted expression - for more thinking.  He began again.  “She might like it if I read her a book before bed.  Like a chapter book.”

“With animals?”

Aeduan shrugged.  “Maybe something with magic?  I don’t think she’d object to dragons.”

“Oh.”  The word floated out of Iseult like a feather on the wind.  She swept past Aeduan, carried by her own timid excitement to the shelves along the wall.  Vaguely, she felt him following her, but as always, he didn’t ask any questions.  The tips of her fingers dusted over the rows of books as she traced the letters of the alphabet to where she needed to be, and when she pulled out a thin volume, she didn’t even realize - or care - that she was smiling.

“My Father’s Dragon,” she said, feeling strangely breathless, handing it to Aeduan.  He remained impassive, but, inside, Iseult bubbled with the exhilaration that only comes from wielding the power of recommending an undeniably remarkable book.  “It’s about a boy who runs away to rescue a baby dragon.  And,” she tapped the lion on the cover, “there are plenty of animals.”

Aeduan studied it curiously, as usual, not saying anything.  Iseult ducked down to the shelf below where she found the book.

“And since we’re in the G’s,” she murmured to herself, tracing a finger along the book spines, searching for Goechenka.    

“Aeduan.”

Iseult straightened and peered around the side of Aeduan.  Evrane was walking towards them, adorned in ocean blue and her silver bangles jingling on her wrists.  Her eyes brightened when she spotted Iseult behind Aeduan.  The little girl at her feet trailing behind her, however, eyed her warily.  

“Ah, good!  You two have met,” said Evrane, joining them.  When she spotted the books in Aeduan’s arms, she tilted her head to the side and arched an eyebrow in intrigue.  “That’s quite an ambitious collection you have there.”

Aeduan responded with something that could have been a grunt or a cough - whichever it was, it wasn’t words.  Not sure why she felt the need to smooth it over, Iseult swooped in.  

“Aeduan asked for help picking out some titles.”  She glanced over at him as confirmation only to find herself pinned under an ice-blue glare.  

“Did he really?” Evrane remarked with mild astonishment.   She was looking at Aeduan bemusedly, arms folded across her chest.  “I’m glad to hear it.”

Aeduan, looking considerably less happy than he had before Evrane showed up, ignored her and knelt down on one knee to the child’s level, placing the books on the ground next to him.  His broad shoulders were all tension, but when he reached out to her, Iseult couldn’t believe it was the same person who had all but grunted at Evrane like a neanderthal.

“Owl,” he said, the word feather light on his lips.  He didn’t quite smile, but his eyes, the same eyes that had frozen Iseult to the core only seconds ago, were awash with warmth.  The girl, Owl, shuffled over to him and wedged herself on the inside of his bent leg and against his chest.  

She did not look at the books.

Evrane turned to Iseult and with delicate politeness said, “Would you mind checking those out?  I need a moment with Aeduan.”

“Of course.”  Iseult hesitated, then bent down to collect the books next to Aeduan.  Their eyes met for a flicker of a heartbeat, and in that moment, Iseult was hit with that kindle of warmth meant for Owl.  With sparkling clarity, she wondered what it would be like to have someone look at her that way.  To not only be the source of one’s warmth, but the flame as well.  

Iseult quickly pulled away, as though burned, and made her escape with the books.  At the desk she began scanning them and she stacked them neatly on top of each other, one after another until there were no more left.  Fixing the corner of one of the books so it was perfectly aligned with the rest of the stack, Iseult kept her head bowed low and glanced over at the pair from under her bangs.  

Even while Evrane spoke, Aeduan’s attention was entirely focused on Owl.  She had to be his daughter, Iseult thought.  Only a parent looks at a child that way.  With that innate protectiveness.  Like no one else existed.  

Not that she’d know.  She wouldn’t exactly describe Gretchya as maternal.  

Iseult considered the pile in front of her and worried about whether or not she should rejoin the pair, only to have her internal debate interrupted by Hilga’s stern but not unkind voice.  

“Iseult, what are you still doing here?  Your shift ended 10 minutes ago.”

Iseult glanced at the clock.  2:10.  Shit.  When did that happen?  She’d be late for her shift at Jitters if she didn’t leave soon, which would potentially make Safi late for class.  Not that she’d care.  She’d probably use it as an excuse to skip class altogether.  

“I was busy helping a patron.”

“Well, I can take over from here,” Hilga said, bustling around the desk.  “Are these books for them?”

“Yes.  I already checked them out.  He’s-”

But Hilga was already shoo-ing her away and Iseult knew better than to argue.  She slipped into the back office and gathered her belongings, changed into her boots for the wet walk home, and pulled on her coat, scarf, and gloves.  When she came back out, she stopped short in the doorway.

Aeduan was back at the desk and Hilga was nowhere to be found.  

Aeduan’s entire body froze at her appearance.

“I thought you left,” he stated after an uncomfortable moment’s pause.

“I am,” Iseult replied, then quickly amended, “Leaving.  Now.”  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.  “Did you get your books?”

“We’re leaving too,” he said, not answering her question.

“Oh,” she said dumbly.  “Well…”  And with nothing left to say or do, she walked around from behind the desk, and with a hesitant pause at Aeduan and Owl by his side, she made her way to the exit.  She could feel Aeduan at her heels, following her through the shelves, until they were out of the room and were able to walk side by side, Owl toddling between them, her hand firmly grasped in Aeduan’s.

It was a mistake.  That much was clear the second they stepped out of the Children’s Room.  From there they were able to walk side by side, but with Owl between them, both Iseult and Aeduan had no choice but to walk at her pace, making the journey through the library a longer and more torturous experience.

The building was already quiet, but next to Aeduan, the silence was deafening.  No sooner had they left the Children’s Room, Iseult found herself wishing she had made up some excuse to hang back.  A forgotten book, a phone left behind, anything to avoid this uncomfortable processional.  Iseult didn’t trust herself to make something up now.  For all her control over her emotions, she was a terrible liar, and Aeduan didn’t seem like the type to be convinced by a clumsy attempt at bullshitting.

Or maybe he was.  He seemed pretty damn oblivious to the awkwardness of the situation at hand or the fact that he could speed this trip along and spare them both of this unnecessary pain by picking Owl up and carrying her the rest of the way.

In the end, Iseult had been a fool.  For she did not know the true meaning of awkward until they were outside at the bottom of the library’s stone steps.  They both came to a stop when they stepped down onto the sidewalk and for a moment they eyed each other through the falling snow.

“Well, I’m this way,” Iseult initiated, motioning her head over her shoulder.

Aeduan looked over her and nodded.  “Alright.”

Iseult waited for him to say something similar, to tell her they were going the other way or - Moon Mother, save her - they were headed in the same direction as her.  But that assertion never came. Instead, Aeduan simply stood there staring at her as though waiting for her to leave.

So she did.  Without so much as a goodbye or a wave, she jerkily pivoted away and plodded through the slush, leaving Aeduan and Owl on the steps of the library.  Ice seeped into her boots, but she was already numb with her own mortification.  Each bone-cold step taking her further and further away from them and the library seemed to strengthen the tangle of confusion in her head, leaving only one lone thread of thought for her to pull at.