Chapter Text
“I don't feel particularly bad about it.” You watch Ralsei chop vegetables while you help by dutifully sitting on the counter.
“I know you don't! I still have a little bit of empathy left in me, so I still have a ever so slight twinge of guilt when I lure in victims for you.” You can see him getting a little red, even through the fur.
“Hey man, I gotta eat! Just don't get cold feet, I don't want to hunt that guy down. Do you think he can fly?” You're trying to bait him.
“Uhm, Count? Still there?” You can hear a small voice calling for you in the ball room.
“Sorry, my date's here.” You leave your servant to prepare the dinner. He used to be so attentive. You suppose making someone a unwillingly accomplice to several murders will strain your relationship.
You stifle your laughter. Has this bird ever been to a dinner in his life? He looks like a traveling merchant. You remember that you actually got those clothes from a traveling merchant, really skittish guy. He almost made it out.
Speaking of skittish, this bird looks like he's about to jump out of his feathers. “You have great taste. I've been waiting for you down here.” You give him just a touch of eagerness.
“Y-you have? W-Well, my apologies. I would never keep you waiting. Not that- I uh” It's almost cute how bad he's tripping over himself. Maybe you can even have some fun with this.
“Yes?” You bat your eyelashes.
“I just mean I've never prepared for an event like this before!” His feathers start to stick up, one by one. “I'm just an archivist, and I live in the village. I've never really learned the rules of noble fashion.” You move in, maybe just one step too close.
“I suppose I can find it in my heart to forgive you, but only if you let me give you the tour while we wait.” You don't know if you can wait until after dinner. Something about him is just so.. prey-like.
“I-i- uh, certainly! I would love- uh- like nothing more.”
You swiftly take his hand and see his entire coat puff up at once. Is that how birds blush? God, he's falling hard.
You guide him out of the ball room and into a cozier place where you can both sit and chat. Just to lower his guard. Yeah.
“This is the solar. I don't visit it much since the passing of my parents.”
You creep up behind him, ever so slightly, eying his puffed out neck. “In my youth, they came back from an adventure with a terrible disease.” Just a few inches from him now. You can feel his heat on your cold skin. “It swept through our castle like wildfire. I even became afflicted at one point. But I survi- er, overcame it.”
He squeezes your hand and spins around to meet you. Dammit. “I'm so sorry. That must’ve been so terrible.”
You run your hand along his feathers. Somehow, a lot softer than you expected. You have linens and silks but he's so warm, it adds something. You feel the tiniest, smallest possible pang of guilt in your chest. “Well, it isn't all bad. I keep their memory alive, and I can shelter any passing bluebirds in my very own castle now.” He laughs, less like he's scared and more like he's being expertly wooed by someone as suave as yourself.
“Well, I'm glad you found me. Where would I be without you, uh” He's trying so hard to think right now. “What is your name, my count?”
“You're so kind with your formalities. Just call me Kris. And what do I call you, bluebird?”
“It's Berdly. Most of the village kids just know me as the librarian, which isn't even close to my job, actually, and..” You're just staring at him, watching dutifully. He seems to notice. “and.. uh.. I'm sure royalty like yourself isn't concerned with my duties as an archivist.”
“No, no! Please, I implore you, continue on.” You take his feathers in your hand. “I want to know everything about you.” You watch as his feathers puff up again, and you move in again until you're inches from his face. You're pretty sure you're just toying with him now.
Berdly's practically choking on his words. “Whuh-huh? I-i-i..” Your eyes drift toward his neck, and you can almost hear his heartbeat, you can almost.. even.. taste…
*DING! DING! DING!* You both snap out of your fog simultaneously. You step away from the rapidly dishevelling bird, whose trying his best to compose himself. “Ahem! My apologies! That was our dinner bell. We should get back, shouldn't we?” There's a hint of nervousness in your own voice now. Probably nothing!
Berdly's still staring at you, beak slightly open. “Uh-yeah-uhm, I'll be uh, right behind you.” He mumbles at you under his breath. It's incredible just how clueless he looks.