Work Text:
All the survivors in the manor have already shared their evening meal and have since dispersed, each to their own. Andrew kneels in his room, facing the window with a wooden rosary clasped delicately in his folded hands. He’s had the habit of praying the entirety of the Rosary before settling down for bed every night for a long time, and even with the new things he’s encountered in the manor, that part of his schedule has not changed.
He’s on the third Hail Mary of the second decade when a delicate, steady knock on his door, three successive raps, breaks his focus. He opens his eyes, squinting against the last rays of light from the setting sun and saying nothing. Who is knocking, and what are they here for…?
“Andrew,” a voice calls, “do you care to join the other survivors and myself in some evening festivities? It’s mostly trivial games, but it is quite entertaining to at least spectate if you do not wish to participate in such directly.”
Andrew commits his place on the Rosary to memory and slips the sacramental back in his pocket. “...Who is this?”
His question is quiet, but the person on the other side of the door seems to hear without an issue. “Vera Nair.”
“...Miss Nair,” Andrew begins, “I shall join you in just a moment. Please, pardon me.”
Grabbing his shovel leaned against the wall takes only a moment, though Andrew takes a few hesitant steps around the room to feel more preoccupied while he inhales and exhales slowly. He hasn’t been invited to one of these gatherings so directly before, so he’s always been able to avoid attending. However, circumventing this specific situation appears to be nigh impossible.
He stops in front of his door and rests his hand on the knob. “Miss Nair, I apologize for taking so long.”
Whatever Vera was about to say is interrupted by the soft creak of Andrew’s door as he steps out. Vera looks him over once to find him dressed completely normally, and her eyes linger on his shovel. Andrew feels frozen for a second as he realizes such a tool is entirely unnecessary for simple indoor pastimes, though he’s already too unsettled by his mistake to muster the courage to go and put his shovel back. His grip tightens on the handle, but Vera simply turns and heads off, so Andrew follows.
His invitation letter had promised Andrew a chance to prove he’s not a bad person. Now is an example of such a chance. But Andrew feels uneasy towards the idea of so much attention, even though he needs people to pay attention if he wishes to obtain a reputation of better than that of some unsavory anomaly.
Vera does not stop walking and simply heads right into a ring of people gathered in chairs and sitting on the floor; Vera herself settles down in a padded velvet chair. She had probably claimed it before she left to fetch Andrew. Everyone is observing the players in the center of the room, who they have formed their ring around. Right now, a boy and a girl are playing what appears to be chess in the center of the room. Their names are Luca and Tracy, Andrew remembers.
It’s mostly quiet, and no one has looked up at Andrew. Andrew doesn’t do anything to disrupt the quiet, staying silent himself, and drifts off into thought. He has very little idea of how to play chess or how to tell who is winning, so observing the game does not entertain him much. He was always taught that chess is for intelligent people, namely those who desire to show others their mental prowess. Are Luca and Tracy attempting to show off…?
Vera had said that the activities are mostly ‘trivial games,’ which has created a much less… tense… envisionment of the event in Andrew’s head than the current reality. Is that just because of the nature of chess? Will the atmosphere change once the game is over? After all, there is already a handful of small conversations…
Andrew decides that he does not want everyone’s attention on him, so thoughts of reparation to his name are saved for another time. He appreciates Vera’s invitation, truely, though he has absolutely no idea what to do aside from stand in the corner silently.
His focus wanders and he notices that the sky is completely dark now. The faint light in the manor is now maintained only by oil lamps and candles, which makes Andrew feel a little more comfortable. However, with more comfort often comes more impulsiveness, even if Andrew simply entertaining the thought of leaving is not ‘reckless’ in the general sense.
Leaving to another portion of the manor, however, might be considered a touch more ‘reckless.’
Still, Andrew knows what--well, who--he is looking for, and he is well aware of the security she brings. She is not dangerous, and visiting her is not reckless.
He hasn’t set his shovel down once, so there’s none of the clanking that usually comes with handling his shovel. Plus, Andrew’s footsteps are very quiet. No one notices him leave.
The first few times Andrew made the trip, he had grown hopelessly lost in the twisting halls and many doorways of such a large building, but after dutifully memorizing the layout of the manor via a tattered map he found in a chest, he has no more trouble. His footsteps are almost as confident here as they are way back home, unusual for his reserved demeanor.
The hunters’ portion of the manor is much less furnished than the survivors’ side. Andrew theorizes that such is either due to the fact the hunters are too different to agree on much, or the fact the hunters are generally too solitary to put actual effort into a central area. Now, he places extra care into where he steps, aware that this older half of the manor has many creaky floorboards and many wary inhabitants who tend to be aggressive towards anyone not meant to be in there.
A few minutes pass, and Andrew is finally where he wants to be. He knocks, gloves muffling the already soft sound of his knuckles against the wood. He hears a scratchy meow, and the door opens with a high whine. Cold eyes stare down at him from a face way above his head, though such a cold face is quickly transformed with a warm, motherly smile.
“Andrew.” Ann’s voice is still gentle and warm, even if it’s a changed, distorted version of the one he used to hear. “Come on in.”
Andrew takes a few hesitant steps in and is immediately greeted by Cat, who winds around his legs while purring slowly. Andrew feels himself smile a little bit and slowly crouches down so that he doesn’t accidentally bump into Cat and places a hand on her head gently. Cat purrs even more, so Andrew pets her softly. Ann stands there, watching with a pleased look on her face.
After Cat clambers onto his shoulder, looking akin to a vulture, Andrew slowly stands up and turns to look at Ann, feeling his smile only grow wider as he leans forward a little bit to hug her. Andrew doesn’t smile a lot, but when he does, he knows he’s happy.
When Ann draws back, she tilts her head and rests a long finger against her chin thoughtfully. “What brings you here tonight, Andrew?”
“...Miss Nair invited me to join the other survivors in evening games, though I became uneasy due to the atmosphere,” Andrew murmurs, glancing up before going on. “I had imagined it would be busy enough for me to simply partake in feeling energized while staying near the edge of the fray, but a mere two survivors were playing chess and it was quiet and tense. I chose to leave, as I would much rather spend my evening with someone I’m comfortable around.”
Cat rubs her cheek against Andrew’s, and Andrew’s eyes widen before he gently strokes the side of her head, inciting a croaky laugh form Ann.
“I recommend you apologize for leaving unannounced come morning, even if your presence was not accounted for much. It’s impolite to brush off someone’s offer so brusquely when you do not have a good reason to,” Ann advises. “People often put lots of thought into bringing others into their own endeavors, and such should be appreciated, even if there is an instance in which there is actually not much thought.”
Andrew hesitates before nodding understandingly. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry; I will apologize in person when possible. While some reasons for exit are acceptable, simply deciding I do not like the company I am with with such little intel is poor character… ah, should I just return now? Knowing my visit was founded on disregard for others…”
Ann sighs softly and gently pats both Andrew and Cat on the head once. “It is wonderful when you visit, though I must agree. How quickly you realized and chose to try to correct your mistakes is wonderful… My, you’re such a polite young man, Andrew… make sure you visit when you can, with no bad reasons to. Your usual visits make my day entirely. Still, is there anything you need before you go?”
“Thank you… and, um, I haven’t finished praying my Rosary yet tonight. I left off on the third Hail Mary of the second decade when Miss Nair came to my room to invite me. Would you like to pray from that point onwards when the clock strikes one? I will be physically alone by then, though still praying with someone, which will be nice.”
Ann regards Andrew with a charmed expression. “What a wonderful request… of course. I shall send Cat to keep you company, too. Now, return and apologize for your absence so that you may enjoy the hospitable kindness of your friends. Visit whenever you like, Andrew; I’ll always make time for you.”
Andrew’s face feels weird from how much he is smiling, something he usually never does. It’s truly a miracle that he’s met Ann again, even if she no longer lives as a ‘real’ human. It changes nothing about the fact that she’s like a mother to Andrew and is the one person he trusts and believes in unconditionally.
Cat leaves Andrew’s shoulders in favor of crawling back onto Ann’s while the two embrace. Standing back, Ann watches fondly as Andrew grabs his shovel and takes his leave, off to follow the advice Ann has given.
It is nowhere near one yet, so Ann does not need to send Cat anywhere yet. She simply lets the cat curl up in her lap while she pulls out her Rosary and begins to pray in order to catch up to where Andrew has left off.