They all knew, almost as soon as they arrived in Sybak, that tonight was going to be the least comfortable night any of them would ever spend. And that was certainly saying something.
The lopsided sign tacked to the door of the Campus Cottage read VACANCY, but it was Emil's humble opinion that this was a bit of an overstatement. As was the word 'cottage', come to think of it. As they walked through the door, he found that the establishment had only two rooms and as many beds—one of which appeared to have been claimed already, if the couple occupying it was any indication.
"Please use the bed in the back," said the receptionist, finishing their brief transaction, and the group exchanged uncertain glances. All of them? In one bed? Even if they all squished together, a bed that size simply wasn't meant to hold that many people. Even if it was, it would still be unbearably awkward with this particular party. But since it looked like there was another thunderstorm brewing, it wasn't like they could risk camping out.
"All of us?" asked Sheena finally, voicing their collective thoughts.
The receptionist gave a heavy sigh, as if she'd had to answer that question many times before. "Unless you want to wake them up and ask them to move aside for you," she replied, gesturing towards the other bed. Sheena's fingers twitched as though longing to snatch back the hundred gald they had already paid, but Regal pushed it further towards the clerk with a hasty thank-you, and led the way to the back of the inn.
Clearing his throat delicately, he stared down at the bed along with all the others. Up close and personal, especially in comparison to Regal's height, it seemed even smaller. "I… will sleep on the ground," he announced awkwardly, avoiding everyone's gaze. "I'm used to it, by now."
Emil opened his mouth to protest, but Marta beat him to it. "Where?" Almost every available inch of the floor was either concealed by furniture, or covered in textbooks. (Room service, if you could truly call it that when there were so few rooms to service in the first place, seemed to be nonexistent here.) Regal glanced around as if hoping to find a ready answer lying somewhere among the tomes, but was evidently unable to find one.
"Let's face it," said Sheena, putting her hands on her hips in halfhearted resolution. "There's no getting out of this one. All that's left is for us to figure out which arrangement would be least awkward."
"I call next to Emil!" exclaimed Marta gleefully, sending a jolt through him as he realized what that meant, but the clerk peered around the corner with a stern gaze and a finger to her lips. Marta shut her mouth, but was unable to resist sticking her tongue out as the receptionist retreated.
"One way or another, one of us girls is gonna have to sleep next to one of you guys," muttered Sheena, staring first at the ground and then at the ceiling as if unsure where to look. Anywhere but the bed, Emil noticed. "Regal, we're the adults here," she added, sounding distinctly unhappy at this fact, and Emil wondered fleetingly how old she was, never having thought to ask. "You think we should let the kids sleep next to one another, or…?"
Marta slipped her arm into Emil's with a hopeful wiggle (his pulse quickened), but Regal shook his head slowly. "No," he said firmly, and Emil's heart sank in something very like disappointment, though he still didn't quite understand why. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow that."
Marta's only response was a crestfallen vocalization; she even gave Sheena her best puppy-dog eyes, but though she seemed vaguely apologetic, her lips pursed, she evidently believed Regal was right. Oh well, thought Emil, and though his heart felt a little heavier, a weight also seemed to have lifted from it. After all, he got the feeling that it would be hard enough getting to sleep tonight without the thought of Marta so close beside him.
When no one said anything further, Marta glanced over at Regal again. "So… I guess that means you two are sleeping together?"
Though Marta clapped her hands over her mouth with a muffled gasp as soon as the sentence left her lips, it took Emil longer than he cared to admit to realize why Regal and Sheena both looked so scandalized at her words, but the latter also seemed to be struggling to suppress a giggle. The former was too busy looking horrified, like he had just realized something distressing.
"I'm—I'm so sorry," mumbled Marta, her voice stifled by her gloves. Sheena finally let herself laugh at her stricken countenance, but Regal turned his head away, averting his eyes. Unless it was Emil's imagination, he seemed a little more highly colored than usual.
"Not like that, but yeah, sure," said Sheena, glancing over at Regal and sobering as she took in his expression. "Sorry about that," she added, this time addressing her imminent bedmate. Though he did not look at her, he nodded by way of acceptance.
(Emil couldn't pretend to know many details about Regal's situation, but he thought privately that if he was still committed to his eternal beloved when a woman like Sheena was assigned to sleep at his side, then he was without a doubt the strongest man he'd ever known.)
"Marta, you'll stay on the end, next to me," commanded Sheena, using her most motherly tones. "Emil, you sleep next to Regal." On the opposite side, noted Emil. As he glanced sideways at Marta, he found her doing the same to him, and they immediately turned their heads away from one another.
"O-okay, so is it bedtime yet?" asked Emil, catching a yawn from Marta. They'd traveled nonstop for hours to get here, after all, and they probably had an exhausting day ahead of them tomorrow too. It would be best to rest as long as possible, especially since he very much doubted whether any of them would actually get much rest.
"Soon," replied Regal, his voice low and almost ominous, and they wordlessly set to work on their respective rituals.
As awkward as Emil had anticipated actually sleeping in the same bed as the others could be, he hadn't considered that all the steps leading up to it would be just as bad.
There was a long period of still silence as the party silently dared one another to be the first to lie down, but eventually, Sheena shrugged. "Here goes nothing," she said, giving a brave smile, and crawled onto the bed. As she scooted back against the headboard, she bounced slightly in place (Regal averted his eyes sharply), and Emil observed that the bed did not noticeably shift under Sheena's weight.
"Hard as a rock," she groaned as if she had expected as much, settling back and shimmying under the covers. "But at least the sheets are clean." She looked up at Regal expectantly, her hand resting on the space beside her in more of a command than an invitation. Emil could see his jaw twitch and tighten, and for several seconds, he merely stared down at the bed, almost as if afraid of it.
Just as Emil was about to break the stony silence with the stammered suggestion that Marta go next instead, Regal finally moved to lie down at least a foot away from Sheena, refusing to make use of the blankets despite the chill of the coming storm. Though he had closed his eyes, the expression on his face was exactly what Emil would expect it to be if he were instead staring intently at the ceiling.
As he moved uncertainly to Regal's side of the bed, Marta marched over to stand next to Sheena, stumbling only once. "Scoot over," she yawned, lifting up the covers and sliding in. Sheena grumbled something to herself, but obliged, moving closer to Regal centimeter by agonizing centimeter.
"It's a good thing you're so skinny," remarked Sheena when Marta stopped prodding at her, evidently satisfied with her tiny fraction of the bed. Though Emil knew from repeated personal experience that Marta preferred to be called petite, she was apparently too tired even to raise her traditional counterargument, and only made a neutral noise in the back of her throat.
Emil glanced down uneasily at the bed. As of now, he had less than a foot of mattress upon which to rest his entire body, but there were only a few inches between Regal and Sheena too, and he wasn't one to rock the boat. Especially not that boat.
"Do Knights of Ratatosk sleep standing up, or something?" asked Sheena, opening one eye to scrutinize him.
Emil jumped, then swallowed. How long had he been spacing out? "N-no," he said, moving tentatively towards the bed to take his place beside Regal. Fortunately, he didn't have to say anything, as he moved aside immediately, though his expression took a turn for the troubled as he brushed against Sheena. Upon seeing this, Emil hastily lied to himself that he had enough space, and slipped silently between the sheets.
Somehow or other, Emil must have gotten to sleep eventually, because only in slumber could he possibly forget that the door against which he pushed in a dream was in actuality the equally solid Regal. But whichever it was, it moved out of his way, and Emil was able to sleep peacefully until—
Richter! He sat bolt upright in a cold sweat made colder by his apparent lack of covers, the image of angry green eyes lingering in his mind. As he caught his breath, his throat felt unbearably dry, and he barely resisted the urge to cough. Maybe he could find a glass of water somewhere, short of venturing out into the pouring rain.
As soon as he was sure he would be steady enough on his feet not to stumble, Emil got to his feet silently, grimacing as he stepped on the edge of a book. As lightning briefly brightened the room, he took the opportunity to look around the room. A few more strikes later, Emil found the confidence to make his way to the pitcher on the table by the window.
Emil sat down as quietly as possible at the tiny table, sipping water from a wine glass and trying not to feel so awake. Thankfully, the sounds of the storm raging outside were oddly comforting, and cleared his head. That dream, more like a vision than anything else, seemed to make him feel like his other self for awhile. But then again, maybe that was just the adrenaline inspired by any such vivid nightmare.
It had to have been at least a few hours before dawn, or Regal would already be awake and exercising, even in a place like this. Emil made his way slowly back to the bed again, pausing every so often to let the lightning show his path so as not to stub his toe on some book. Where's Tenebrae when you need him? he wondered irritably, glancing over at the bed, but his thoughts stopped abruptly mid-complaint.
Though Emil knew Marta wasn't exactly a big fan of thunderstorms, she was still sound asleep, curled up in her corner. She was clearly responsible for the general lack of blankets among the group, as she was the only one still covered. But, as adorable as she was, it was not Marta whom had drawn Emil's attention.
Sheena had coped with her missing sheets not by trying to reclaim them from her sleeping companion, but rather by huddling against Regal. No trace of the embarrassment he had felt before remained in slumber. Their proximity was hardly something the wakeful duke would have deemed appropriate, as his sleeping self had at some point thrown one arm about her waist to draw her closer for warmth.
Yet there was something almost fatherly about the way he held her. Emil tilted his head in contemplation, spending the next several moments of illumination observing the two of them. Their breaths were deep and rhythmic and almost synchronized, and although Emil couldn't explain it if he tried, the way they acted in slumber perfectly reflected how they behaved in wakefulness. (Was it like that for everyone?)
"Emil," began Tenebrae's voice quietly from the shadows.
Giving a startled yelp, Emil glanced around wildly. Had his earlier thought summoned him after all? But for the moment, it was more important that his utterance hadn't awakened anyone. Heart pounding, Emil noticed that Sheena was stirring faintly, but she only gave an inscrutable sigh and buried her face in Regal's chest.
"Sorry, Tenebrae," whispered Emil, hanging his head, but was not given the chance to explain himself.
"No need to apologize," said Tenebrae, his strangely soft tone at odds with the impatient swish of his tail. "I just thought I would step in before one of them awakens and sees you staring at them. I think we both know it won't be pretty if either one of them catches you."
"This… isn't like you," said Emil, narrowing his eyes. Since when did Tenebrae give him tips on how to avoid trouble? Usually, he was more intent on causing it. (Emil still remembered quite vividly his uncalled-for implications that accidentally calling Sheena 'Mom' actually meant that he secretly liked her chest.)
"Don't look a gift fenrilra in the mouth," said Tenebrae, laughing mysteriously.
"What's a fenrilra?" asked Emil, unable to stop himself. Though Tenebrae's expression rarely changed and the light was too dim to see anyhow, he could sense disapproval positively radiating from his general direction at his question. Realizing with a jolt what was wrong, he amended lamely, "Th-thanks."
"You should consider getting some more rest," was Tenebrae's only response, and without even allowing enough time for Emil to nod in agreement, he disappeared in a puff of swirling shadows.
Unfortunately, taking Tenebrae's advice was far more easily said than done. Emil didn't have the heart to reclaim the covers from Marta, nor did he have anyone with whom to share body heat as did Regal and Sheena. The remainder of the night was spent shivering, wishing he could fall asleep. Even if it meant more nightmares.
He must have dozed off at some point, however, because the next thing of which he was conscious was the sound of Marta's gentle giggle. Stirring himself reluctantly out of his stupor, he opened his eyes to find that the room was bathed in soft gray light, the aftermath of the storm. Marta stood next to him, which might ordinarily cause him some alarm, but her blue eyes were focused on something behind him.
Emil turned over to find that their other two companions were still intertwined, but something was different. Though Regal's eyes were closed, he was certainly awake—and from the looks of things, he wished he wasn't. All his (considerable) muscles were tensed, and his breathing seemed a little too even, as if he was keeping it under careful control.
Emil felt momentarily sorry for him, supposing that he was only staying still so as not to wake Sheena, but Marta had come to a different conclusion. "I guess not even Regal is immune to Sheena's feminine wiles," whispered Marta, eyes sparkling with mischief, and Emil could have sworn that the tip of Regal's visible ear turned red at her words. "Raine's going to be so disappointed."