Not great at the description for this one. We'll see where it goes. I have some ideas.
Multi-chaps are usually a tough one for me (so is USUK), so reviews will decide if I continue or not. So be sure to review if you like it enough to warrant it's continuation.
Enjoy!
"Good afternoon, sir. Will you be checking in?" the hotel manager addressed the man in front of him.
"Ja, a double room please. Under Beilschmidt," replied the man rubbing away a headache no doubt caused by the incessant chatter of the albino man next to him with the bellhop.
The manager, Arthur, lifted the guestbook from the workspace onto the counter between himself and Mister Beilschmidt. He risked a glare over at the bellhop, Antonio, on whom it was completely lost.
"Ludwig and Gilbert?" Arthur asked the two guests.
"Ja," Mister Beilschmidt replied. It was unclear to Arthur who was Ludwig and who was Gilbert presently.
"I've set aside room twelve. It should do nicely. The window provides a most excellent view of the countryside. If you could just sign here, Mister Beilschmidt," Arthur described, trying to coax a smile out of his guest.
"Please, Ludwig," Ludwig replied as he meticulously signed in the space.
"Thank you, Ludwig," Arthur replied, lowering the guestbook onto the workspace once again. "Payment is at check out. Our chef, Francis, will be serving dinner in the dining room starting at 6 pm. Antonio will take your bags. Antonio?"
The conversation between the albino and Antonio continued in earnest.
"BRUDER!" Ludwig shouted suddenly, making Arthur jump. The albino barely stirred.
"Yes, Luddy?" he spun around, leaning his arm on Ludwig's shoulder.
Arthur added before Ludwig could snap at his brother, "Antonio, please take the Beilschmidts' bags upstairs to room twelve."
"Si, senor!" Antonio cried, picking up the bags with a chipper attitude and leading the way up the grand staircase.
"Next patron ple-Oh," Arthur stopped as the next in line stepped up to the counter. "Hello again."
A dapper young man stepped up to the counter in only shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows under glossy black suspenders, his alarmingly red coat draped over his arm. He leaned closer to Arthur over the counter until the manager could see the full effect of his dazzlingly blue eyes and charming smile. He blew a strand of his wheat blond hair out of his face until it stuck straight up off his head.
"Hullo Arthur!" cried the young man, his American accent thick and heavy against Arthur's British intonation. "What have you got for me this year?!"
Arthur grimaced to hide his internal smile and pushed the American off the counter with the guestbook.
"Alfred, what makes you think I've set anything aside?" Arthur demanded gruffly. "Have you made a reservation?"
Alfred's eyes saddened as his thin wired spectacles slipped down his nose. His face was plain with over exaggerated shock.
"No," Alfred drawled. "But I always turn up every year without fail. Don't tell me you haven't anything for me Arthur!"
Arthur tried to suppress a smirk and failed, the corners of his mouth twitching. He resigned and smiled at his long-time friend.
"Of course I have something put aside, you bloody idiot. Room four, as usual, across the hall from mine, so don't go getting ideas about being loud at all hours again or I will throw you out this time," Arthur cautioned with a smirk.
"Is the apple tree still outside the window?" Alfred asked, his charming smile lighting his face once more as he took up the pen and signed the space in his messy cursive.
"Naturally," Arthur replied, looking down to finish up the paperwork in the guestbook on the workspace. "How else would Francis be able to make you apple tarts?"
Alfred smiled kindly with appreciation, the corners of his eyes softening.
"Drinks at seven at the Imp?" Alfred asked knowingly.
"I'm not sure," Arthur replied solemnly, peeking around Alfred to glance at the imaginary line of patrons behind the American. "I have a lot of fixing to do what with the recent wave of Americans on holiday, messing up my hotel. No courtesy is what your lot have. They broke the chandelier in the dining room! Thankfully covered the costs, but I still have the trouble of getting it replaced."
Alfred raised an eyebrow at Arthur's complaints, knowing it wouldn't be long before the manager agreed to drinks.
"I saw a whale," Alfred added randomly. "And what if I told you I got myself a girl?"
Arthur looked up at him sharply. "You did not."
Alfred smirked and laughed, loud and obnoxiously.
"Drinks?"
"Fine," resigned Arthur with a sigh. "I'll meet you at seven. Hopefully the blacksmith will be done with the new chandelier by then."
Alfred winked slyly at the manager before throwing his canvas bag over his shoulder and walking towards one of the hallways looping under the grand staircase.
"It's a date then!" he called to the echoing empty entranceway.
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