Like it says in the summary: Rinaldo wants to know where Leon's getting all this stuff he tries to sell. Leon then tries to explain the duplicate item trick to him. As for those "items" in question, I might be mixing foods from various Castlevania games, and maybe pulling some outta my ass. I can't remember what all you can get on LoI, so forgive me for any liberties I've taken, please. And yes, I know it's Small Meat and Large Meat you receive and I tried my hardest to be mature about that and failed. Thus, the size of this "meat" will not be mentioned in the actual story, and it will be referred to as "turkey" from here on out.
I'm sorry if a similar fic exists. I looked and didn't find one. I haven't read anything of the sort, but I may have missed it.
I don't own any of the Castlevania characters or anything of the sort, which is good, considering I have an unhealthy obsession with one Trevor Belmont.
"I have a few things I'd like to sell." Leon Belmont made the statement simply, but firmly, as he often did. He addressed everyone sternly, but fairly and with respect, be it a fellow knight before he left the company, or the enigmatic shopkeeper before him.
"I see," Rinaldo said, evenly, though he was concerned.
Leon had been doing this a lot. He was showing up every couple of hours and he always had something new to sell. Before, he had only returned to the cabin - had only ventured away from the castle and his quest to find his beloved - once, when he was too worn to carry on. He was humble and polite, had stayed just a few hours and allowed himself only that which was absolutely necessary for him to continue fighting - a little rest and a couple of potions. His mind was clear and unclouded, his concentration unbreakable. Leon would defeat the vampire and rescue his love.
But no more. Things were beginning to take their toll on the man. Clearly, he was fatigued, both his body and his mind weary. Most definitely his mind.
"May I ask you something?" Rinaldo asked, looking upon his acquaintance with a hint of worry.
"Of course." Leon sounded well enough, but he had been behaving so strangely.
Rinaldo nodded, prepared to make his inquiry. "I would like to know how you've come upon all these things." He gestured to his counter, which was now covered in various foodstuffs, charms, and remedies, each in quantities of nine.
Leon looked upon him oddly, suspiciously. Then he glanced down at the merchandise in question, eyes shifting back up to Rinaldo a moment later. "How much?" he asked, simply.
Rinaldo sighed. "Perhaps you're getting tired? Would you like to rest a while?"
The former knight responded with a curt, "I'd like to sell these things." He paused, then repeated, "How much?"
"Very well," Rinaldo resigned, reaching for a basket full of golden brown turkey legs. "Nine turkey legs. That will be..."
"Eight," Leon corrected him and took back one of the drumsticks. "I need to keep one for-" He stopped himself suddenly.
Rinaldo gave him an odd expression, but didn't force the matter. "Fine. Eight turkey legs."
"Eight ice cream cones," Leon added, gesturing to a basket of gooey, sticky, half-melted ice cream cones. Again, he took one to keep for himself. He put it next to the turkey leg.
"Eight ice cream cones," Rinaldo echoed, his patience wearing thin. He felt for Leon, he really did, but what the hell was he going to do with this stuff?
"Eight... stones," Leon said, with a shrug. He retrieved a handful of zircon from somewhere inside his cloak and placed the gems on the counter.
"Eight stones," Rinaldo repeated, less and less able to conceal his annoyance.
"Eight slices of shortcake."
"Eight slices of shortcake," the shopkeeper mumbled.
"Eight cans of tomato juice."
Rinaldo heaved a sigh. "Eight cans of tomato juice."
"And eight plates of Neapolitan," Leon stated, looking almost smug. "That's spaghetti sautéed in ketchup." Said ketchup-soaked spaghetti was, not surprisingly, kept in a woven basket, just as most of Leon's items were. This particular basket, however, was oozing with sauce and limp noodles hung over the edges.
"And eight plates of Neapolitan," Rinaldo muttered. When Leon said nothing more, he dared to ask, "Is that all?" He sincerely hoped it was, as he could hardly see Leon over the ever-growing pile on his counter.
After a brief pause, Leon informed him, "I would like to sell the baskets, too."
Rinaldo had hardly finished cleaning up from his last transaction when Leon came strolling into his shop again. Before he could unload anything more on the poor shopkeeper, or even speak, Rinaldo interrupted him. "I'll buy your things on one condition."
Leon looked at Rinaldo questioningly.
"I will buy them if you will show me how you came to possess them. Is that fair?"
The ex-knight shrugged. "Fine."
Leon led the way into the castle, coming to a stop in a short hallway just off the main entrance. He took a few slow, precise steps, then turned sharply to the left. "Here it is," he said, simply.
"What is so special about this place?" Rinaldo asked, somewhat shortly.
"It is enchanted, this very spot."
"Enchanted?"
Leon nodded. "I stand right here and face the window and - do you hear that sound?"
Rinaldo strained his ears to hear. There it was, a faint ping.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
"Where is that coming from?" he asked.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
"That, I do not know," Belmont admitted.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
"But when it stops," he paused, for effect more than anything. "I have all these things. Nine of everything I had before."
"Everything you had before? So that is why you only ever sell me eight," Rinaldo concluded.
Leon nodded.
"You need one for this trick to work," Rinaldo murmured, thoughtfully. This was most peculiar and he would be lying if he claimed not to be even a little intrigued. "Perhaps it is the window. Or the rug."
"The window?"
"Perhaps."
"Or the rug?" Leon was repeating Rinaldo, somewhat mischievously.
"Perhaps."
Leon stepped off the rug and proceeded to roll it up. He cradled it in his arms, then turned to face the window. "What do you think it means?" he asked, suddenly.
"I think it means you're meddling in something you ought not meddle in," Rinaldo answered, his voice trailing off as he did. "Perhaps it is the room itself. That is more likely, I would suppose. The magic must be its strongest here, in this very spot."
Leon said nothing, just continued to stare out the window.
"The question is why. What purpose would this serve him?" Rinaldo wondered.
Leon stood silently, almost glaring out the window, deep in thought.
"You're doing it again, aren't you?"
Leon didn't respond. He was too busy trying to multiply what he hoped to be a magic rug.
Rinaldo shook his head, and with a huff, announced, "I'm going back home."
The younger man still didn't react. He was concerned only with figuring up how much gold he could get...
...for not one, but eight enchanted rugs.
Despite his most enlightening encounter with Leon inside Walter's castle, Rinaldo couldn't help but stare bemusedly at the man before him, a crimson mat tucked under each arm and wearing a goofy grin.
"Fancy meeting you here, Rinaldo," Leon greeted him, jovially, as he plopped both rugs on the counter. No doubt he had more elsewhere, though Rinaldo would not ask where. He remembered the last time he'd posed a question regarding this matter. No good had come of asking Leon where he had acquired his virtually limitless stock; no good would come of asking Leon where he was keeping it all.
"I have a few things I'd like to sell."
So, this was probably pretty dumb, yeah? I went back and forth on how to arrange the whole thing. Ending with Leon wanting to sell the baskets would probably be funnier, but that would mean changing up a whole lotta stuff, not to mention ditching the magic rug part. Plus, I decided that, since the theme of the story is Leon continually selling a bunch of random crap to poor Rinaldo, I'd sort of end it on that note. Or so I say... Really, I just didn't want to get rid of the magic rug part. Oh well. XD And yes, if Leon was able to multiply the rug, then it probably wasn't magical after all. Whatever. He's Idiot!Leon in the story already, so let's just say he still thinks it's magical. ;) How's that for over analyzing something?
Never tried my hand at Castlevania fiction before, and I thought I'd sort of work my way up to writing something serious and maybe semi-good. Still never wrote an Isaac fic like I said I would, but I'm still considering it. It will likely be slash. Yay! (Look at his outfit and tell me he's straight. :P)
Well, I hope you guys liked it, and I'd like to hear what you thought.