Chapter Text
I have been pacing my office for a while now. Many emotions overwhelm me at the moment, so I have decided to put them to paper rather than take them out on my carpet, which I gave several kicks to after tripping over it.
If today has been anything, it has certainly been very illuminating on the constitution of Bambleby’s character as well as his intentions. I feel so foolish.
Alas, I am getting ahead of myself. I shall start at the beginning.
I had spent the evening in the offices. The gean-cannah changeling had consumed my thoughts, especially after my conversation with Bambleby. I had spent the night engrossed in my research, considering embarking on an expedition to investigate the report, therefore I took the time to research all I could about the area and its folklore. I must have dosed off during the early hours of the morning, for I was awoken by someone knocking at my door. Shook from my sleep, I lifted my face from my desk, my vision foggy as I found Bambleby poking his head through my door. How lovely.
“Good morning,” he chimed, stepping into my office.
I grumbled a reply, rubbing my eyes as he swept inside. He gave me a once-over.
“Good God, em,” he cried. “You look terrible.”
Again with that bloody nickname. He made his way to the center of the room and flopped down onto the sofa perpendicular to my desk, completely at ease.
I shot him a look.
“Thank you,” I replied frostily.
My hair had fallen out of my bun and I was busying myself with taming it. Shadow, the traitor, had roused himself from his spot by my feet and patted up to Bambleby, tail wagging, clearly hoping for affection. All he received in return was a wary look. He did not relent so Bambleby abandoned the couch altogether.
“If I’d known any better, I would have mistaken you for a bog witch,” he continued breezily. “You certainly have the eye bags of one.”
He had walked past my desk to the heavy curtains, with one smooth motion he thew them open. My office was immediately bathed in bright morning light, I hissed and shielded my eyes
"Dear God Bambleby, consider yourself lucky I’m tired.” I groaned.
“Oh, I always do.” he grinned. “Anyway I know the perfect remedy for your state, why dont you-”
“Later.” I croaked, cutting him off. I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
I knew exactly where this conversation was headed. I was in no mood for another one of his damned invitations to breakfast. I was having a perfectly good morning. Of course he had to ruin it.
“Come now, you promised you would. I don’t want to eat breakfast alone,” he complained.
I had made the mistake of promising to join him for breakfast yesterday. I was not in the mood to leave my desk so early in the morning, but of course, the bastard wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Ah yes. God forbid you face your eggs alone." I muttered, petting Shadow.
He had made his way back to my side of the room, his loyalties reassigned after Bambleby’s rude response to his greeting. He plopped his head in my lap as I lavished my affection upon him.
“They are much more fearsome beasts than you think,” he retorted gravely, not a hint of sarcasm in his tone.
I gave a chuckle then, only to humour him, but I roll my eyes as I write this.
He sighed, throwing his head back.
”I won’t bother you long. I simply would like your opinion on an expedition I’m planning on embarking on.”
His constant gripping was getting on my nerves, so I relented. At least the conversation sounded like it would be something meaningful. I thought it a welcome change from his usual mindless chatter.
We walked down the hall together, students whispering as we passed. I tried to ask him about the topic of his expedition but refused to reveal it, for he did not wish to ruin the surprise…
He dragged me to a café near the maths department. It was a quaint place. The smell of fresh pastries washed over us as soon as we entered. There was a wall lined with windows to our right. The morning light filtering through them cast a soft glow upon the brown wooden tables. The café must have been a hidden gem, for the place wasn’t very crowded. The ambiance of the place had mostly consisted of the clatter of porcelain and the soft murmur of conversation. He hurried me along to a table near the back, which was framed by a large window.
I settled myself across from Bambleby with a soft sigh, shrugging off my cloak. For a place he claimed to be nearby, it was quite the arduous trek. I suppose he simply doesn’t care about the comfort of his companions as long as he gets his beloved breakfast.
“My usual, please,” he said, smiling up at the waiter.
The waiter turned to me. He had called the server over before I got the chance to even glance at the menu and was unsure what to order. I scanned it quickly, silence stretching under pressure as the waiter loomed over me in anticipation of my order. I quickly settled on the scones, a safe and immediate option.
He returned quickly and placed a cup in front of Bambleby. Steam curled lazily from the cup, filling the air with the earthy smell of coffee. He picked it up and sighed with satisfaction. He took a long sip before he spoke.
“Are you not going to have tea with your scones?” he asked, casually, over the rip of his mug.
“I-”
In my haste, I had forgotten to order tea. But rather than admit it, I straightened slightly up and said,
“Tea isn’t a requirement when eating scones.”
He gave me a bemused look. He opened his mouth to say something more but closed it again. I heard him mutter ‘my god’ under his breath. I suppose I should be in awe of his superior knowledge on the correct way to consume food, for heaven forbid someone enjoys a scone without tea lest the world might end.
I cleared my throat.
“Right, should we discuss what you wanted my opinion on?” I asked, changing the topic. He stared at me blankly.
“Hmm? Opinion?”
“The expedition Bambleby,” I replied flatly.
“Right. The expedition,”he muttered, he then paused to think, looking as if the mere thought was too burdensome before lamenting that he simply could not discuss work until he’d had his coffee.
I should have rebuked him for he was wasting my time. Instead, I sighed and replied:
“Very well.”
I told him about my first expedition in the meantime. When I was a grad student, I accompanied my professor to the south of England in order to investigate the local Spriggans. We had found one hiding in a ruin. The other grad student had accidentally woken him up due to his carelessness. Bambleby burst out laughing when I told him that we woke up the next morning to find that all our belongings had been stolen. Our professor had to bargain for their return.
The server returned with a plate of fragrant blueberry scones that I ordered, and I watched as, to my stupefaction, he placed two enormous plates of food in front of Bambleby. Upon his plates were runny eggs, sizzling bacon, and at least half a dozen different pastries. It was ridiculous; surely one person could not consume that much food, but to my horror: he finished the whole lot. I began on my scones in an attempt to hide my terror.
When he began his second cup of coffee and after much meandering and wasteful conversation, he finally remembered why he had brought me here in the first place.
“Ah right, I just submitted my grant proposal,” he said, with the enthusiasm of a wet rag.
He bent down to pick up the leather satchel he had brought with him.
“I’ve been wanting to share this with you, for you’ve been quite an inspiration to me.” his voice suddenly earnest.
After rifling around in it, he retrieved a small stack of papers. He reached over and handed it to me. I started to speak
“Oh? Well, I—”
The words faltered. My heart dropped the minute I read the title heading.
I stayed silent for a moment, trying in vain to process what I was reading.
“Em? Are you alright?” he asked, I looked up to see his expectant expression had melted away to one of worry.
“Investigating a changeling found in Lismore: Implications for the possibility of the gean-cannah species,” I read aloud.
“Yes— I looked into the report you found.”
I did not know what could happen when I opened my mouth. I found my voice was flat, almost calm.
“The report I found?”
He opened his mouth as I continued, unable to hide the malice in my voice “The report I spent the entirety of last night researching.”
His eyes widened. The air between us was charged.
“Em—” he began, reaching for my hand on the table. I felt my rage surge, and I snatched it away.
He paused, and for the first time ever, I saw him at a loss for words. For a fleeting moment, I believed that he understood why I was angry. It ended when I saw his lips curl into a bloody smile.
“Emily, I’ve already submitted the proposal. Besides, this is a perfect opportunity. We could do this together. Why don’t you come with me?” He said it with such confidence, as if this was a brilliant idea.
I could feel my anger consume me. I was ready to unleash a verbal barrage, to yell my heart out, to reach over and tear his hair out.
I almost did, but I steeled myself.
This man is one of the courtly fae; it would be severely unwise to be anything but careful. I am a dryadologist; letting myself lose control of my temper would put years of my study to shame. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
I gathered my coat and stood up to leave.
“Emily,” he said with a laugh “come now there is no need for this, please sit.” He sounded almost pleading.
“I have work to do, as for your offer I am much too busy as it is. Best of luck on your endeavours.” Every word felt like venom seeping from my lips.
He tried to fumble for some reply, but I cut him off before he could. I bid him a good day.
I am certain I was unable to hide the disdain in my voice; it was no matter; I was sick of him.
So much makes sense now. His reasons for bothering me this past month are now clear. He likely read my research and realized he could never come close to discovering anything as substantial, so he decided to do what lesser minds do best: leech off of someone better.
I feel so naive. Of course he didn’t want to be my friend. He never valued my company. He simply saw an opportunity and exploited it. The worst part is I let him. I don’t care what in the hell kind of creature that man is for it won't matter anyway; people like him always reveal themselves in the end, until then I will simply insure he never takes advantage of me again. The only comfort I can gain from this situation is that I made sure I stick him with the bill.