Notes & Disclaimer: I own nothing, I'm just having fun here, etc, please don't sue me. Sorry for the delay everyone, my quick trip took me longer than I expected. Thanks again Titanicspaz and Bonnie for the super lovely reviews! You keep me motivated, thanks a lot.
3.
Swaine began to think that 'out of luck' was too little for what they were going through in that moment. Is luck a thing Shadar can rob? Because if it's not, he could have fooled me here, he wondered. First they had to go and take out the three guardians of the wizard king himself. One of them was a ghost pirate. A ghost pirate. He would have trouble believing it, if the bruises from the battle weren't still so vivid. They should have even waited a little more before taking on the last guardian. The wolf almost had them good. It had to be in Yule too., he added grimly.
He really hated Yule. Oh, well. At least I had a coat this time. It could be worse.
It got worse as soon as they got back to Kublai to complete Mornstar. As if getting them wasn't hard enough on itself, the goddamn stones had now the nerve of not fitting in the wand.
He just kept staring at them in disbelief while they discussed what to do.
- I've a nose for plunder and I'd say you'd best have a sniff round the selfsame place you first heard tell of Mornstar and I first came by the map… - he heard Kublai speak.
Oh.
- Hamelin, of course! You're right, Kublai! – and now it was Esther's excited voice.
Just to keep the bad luck rolling, eh, Shadar?, he asked silently sighing, before adding:
- So it's back to Hamelin again, eh? This seems to be becoming a habit. Come on then, Oliver.
And like that they were off to Hamelin – again. No more trips to the past, please., he pleaded with whoever was hearing his internal monologues. At least it wasn't a long ride there – less than a day in dragon back. Why can't we use the Travel spell?. He had hoped they would soon go back to it but it seemed like a talk was in order with Ollie-boy. Esther was going to be angry, she rather loved dragon riding. And to complete his unfortunate luck, she'd been getting real good at balancing herself on her own without the need to grasp him for support.
They spent most of the journey in silence, no stops at all. The dragon left them at the doors of the porcine city and they entered the gates dragging their feet. The stress of the last few weeks was finally catching up to them.
The palace they visited last time still seemed to maintain some sobriety, but there was something different about it too. The air was less heavy and Marcassin had definitely done something about the poor illumination. Everything still had the traditional look, but the decaying and the dust seemed to be gone.
The servants were most happy to awake the King from his sleep: it seemed that he had a feeling they would be coming soon and had prevented his staff to be alert at all times. When Marcassin entered the audience room where they waited, he didn't look like someone who just woke up – instead he was dressed more like someone who was going to meet royalty.
- It's so good to see you all again! – he exclaimed upon arriving.
He did seem very delighted to see them again, his smiling brightening up their mood. He was significantly less pleased when they told him of their reason to be there. When the king talked, the thief felt the air in the room become heavy again.
So now the only person that can help us is a dead queen from a fallen city. Great. That's just great. You know what? I'll just stop thinking things can't get worse, clearly this pit has no bottom. The thief felt like crying.
But Oliver had felt the worse of them all. Swaine felt really sorry for the kid. Marcassin was keenly aware of the weight on the boy's shoulders – not so different from the one he felt himself once upon a time – and offered the best apology he could think of:
- I wish I were more of a Sage right now. I'm very, very sorry I can't help you more. – he said and closing his eyes, he added - You should rest a bit. You all seem very tired and maybe when you have regained the clarity of mind, some new idea will present itself.
- Maybe. I sure hope so. – Oliver responded in a grave manner and Esther squeezed his arm for support. Silence took the room for a moment.
It was Mr. Drippy who finally broke it:
- Well, I'm proper knackered. I'll be getting some of that sleep you mentioned and I reckon you all should too. We deserve this, mun. We beat up a ghost pirate.
Marcassin, who still had his eyes closed, as if searching his mind for a great solution, acquiesced and ordered the servants to help them into their rooms.
- Gascon. – he called before they all left the room. Swaine cringed upon hearing the name, but motioned everyone to go ahead. Esther glanced at him while walking down the corridor, briefly analyzing her friend's state. He seemed even more beat down than usual. If that's possible, she thought to herself before carrying on.
The thief turned to the king, who held a hesitant smile in his face.
- I just wanted you to know… your old room is still available. I haven't touched a thing since you left. – Marcassin talked in a lower voice with his brother.
It was something Swaine had noticed. When he was being the King and Sage, he was as confident as he could be. Always gracious, but firm. But with him, he seemed to revert to something more familiar.
– You can stay in one of the guest rooms too, if you prefer. – the young King added, after the silence that followed his first statement.
The older man tried to decipher his brother's expression. He felt that the younger one needed something of him. He couldn't really say what. Maybe they lacked some closeness. And having his old room back would mean that they would sleep almost next door.
- I'll be fine in my old room. My back still remembers that bed and it misses it very much. – there was an exchange there, a sort of offer. Marcassin smiled and seemed so happy that, for once, Swaine was sure he had made the right decision.
And he wasn't exactly lying either. His back would really appreciate a good night sleep. They had been dragon riding a lot lately.
Swaine was woken up by a servant whose face seemed awfully familiar.
- You probably met my mother? – she offered when he asked. – She was the chief of the staff and now I am. The King sent me here to make sure you have everything you need.
He dispensed her with a guilty face. He never liked much being served but right now it felt worse than ever. He looked around his room now that it was morning with another spirit. When he had come in for the night he just made sure to ignore everything and go straight to bed, which his body really agreed was a good idea, since he fell asleep almost right away. Daylight had brought a different perspective on things.
It just feels wrong. He was not that boy anymore. He browsed through the books on his shelf and they were all about adventures in far-away lands. His table was still full of mechanical stuff: cogs and all the things he was using to work on that gun he had in mind. They were all dusty.
This is creeping me out. Marcassin wasn't kidding when he said his room was untouched – if not for the fact that the rest of the room was clean, which clearly indicated someone had to be sent there from time to time, he could swear that they'd tried to preserve the whole thing intact. Like young Prince Gascon had just left for a walk and would get back any minute now, going back to his tinkering and reading fairy tales.
I need fresh air. Where were the others? Was breakfast being served in the hall? He stormed out of the room before he couldn't breathe anymore. Being in the hallway made him calm down a bit more. The thief rested his head against the wall. I just hope we leave here soon. This is going to drive me crazy.
He looked down and realized that he was still in the same clothes as yesterday – something that wouldn't have bothered him if they were on the middle of their travels, but felt dirty in the palace. I'll just take a bath and change into something. He entered the room again, fully prepared this time to ignore it all over again and go straight to the washing room.
He would not realize the mistake he had made in this course of action until confronted with a wardrobe full of clothes perfectly fit for a ten-year-old prince.
Yep. Not a single thing usable here. That's just perfect, ain't it? And now what? He stared at his old battered clothes and sighed. I'll just wear them again. No problem.
They felt a little slick from sweat but there was nothing to be done about it. The maid he had dispensed earlier was nowhere to be seen and he felt tired, but tried to chin up. He had lived in filthy clothes before. I won't die from doing it again, he added to himself and went down to the dining hall, where he figured breakfast was about to be served.
Marcassin stood up immediately when he entered. He was the only one in the hall so far, had just sent the servants to fetch his guests.
- Oh, I'm so sorry, Gascon, - his expression was of guilt - I should have figured that you would have no clean clothes to wear even though you are home.
Swaine cringed once more upon hearing the words. There it was again – his old name. He had not worked up the courage to tell Marcassin yet that he didn't feel comfortable with it anymore: somehow, it felt that if he told him that there was no more Gascon, he might as well be saying that they were no longer brothers.
The name had him distracted from the apology in itself and Marcassin seemed to be ordering someone around when he focused again. He didn't know what to say. His young brother kept waiting for something and he finally mustered a "There's no need for new clothes, it's all right." under his breath.
- Please, there's still time to find you something suitable to wear. I already order that someone find me Miss Anne. – the young King feared having upset his brother. – Wasn't she around when you woke up?
- I sent her away… before the bath. – he told him a half lie – But it's all right, I like these clothes.
His brother averted his eyes from his figure and this tickled something deep inside the thief.
- Unless there's a problem with me wearing them now, is there? – he asked boldly seeing the reaction – I'm not expected to look royal, am I?
- It's just that I've already sent your companions new clothes and… you travelled all day in these ones… - Marcassin seemed abashed with his own words and in clear discomfort. – Forgive me brother, I shouldn't have put you in this position, I was supposed to take care of this earlier but I have had… business to attend.
- I'm serious, brother, it's all right, I…
- I just think you'll feel better with…
They didn't have the time to finish their talk as, all at once, people started to arrive. They were putting the table for breakfast and at the same time a little silver bell sounded, Oliver and Esther entered the room, accompanied with a very happy Mr. Drippy.
- Mun, I'm so impressed with the service in this place! Top notch, Prince-a-ling! – he exclaimed. – Heck, they even gave new clothes to Esther and took Oliver's things to clean…
The fairy began to drop his voice in seeing Swaine dressed exactly like he was yesterday. Oliver was dressed in a dashing suit that could have belonged to Marcassin himself and Esther… Esther had a light blue dress on her that suited her very well, one that remembered much what Myrtle was wearing when they met her in the Oliver's world. Swaine couldn't stop himself from staring, but she didn't seemed to notice his eyes, but rather, his clothes and she, too, averted her eyes quickly.
Swaine now understood what Marcassin was trying to say without insulting him: his clothes felt very out of place in the middle of them. Even the staff was more adequately dressed than him. He glanced at his younger brother, ever so elegant, perfect skin and perfect glittering hair. His scruffy hair was still wet from the bath and he was now sure that his clothes stank.
I might go ahead and jump out of the window now. It would be less embarrassing than this.
- Brother, if you will, there will be a clean set of clothes in your room. I promise. And once again, I'm sorry. – Marcassin whispered to him before coming forward to greet his guests.
Swaine retreated to the hallway defeated and dragged his feet along. This is definitely a curse, he thought to himself. Bad luck alone wasn't enough to put him through all that. Before he closed his bedroom's door to change, he could still hear his brother's voice saying:
- I wish you would allow me to persuade you to keep this dress, dear Esther. You do look very beautiful in it…