Chapter 5 – One Night, Three Rooms
"Goodnight, Zidane," Dagger bid the young man wearily, pulling back the patchwork Crazy Quilt on one of the two small beds and climbing in. Zidane, seated on the other bed barely two feet away, ceased the task of removing his boots and pouted.
"You're going to sleep already?"
"Well, what else would I do?"
"Oh," he drawled with a waggle of his eyebrows, "I can think of a few things. After all, we're man and wife now."
"I set myself up for that," Dagger noted with a sigh. "Why do I always set myself up for these things? When will I learn?"
"Maybe you keep setting yourself up for it because you like it," Zidane suggested mildly, searching through his travelling pack. The dark-haired young woman glared at him.
"I don't think that's it," she informed him dryly. Zidane shrugged.
"Well, okay. But, if you can't sleep..." His eyebrows began to waggle again. "...Let me know."
"Good-night, Zidane," Dagger repeated firmly, flopping back onto the mattress and rolling over, thus signifying the end of the conversation.
"Goodnight, Master Vivi," Steiner called to the small boy. An unintelligible murmur was the only response. He smiled fondly at the quilt- covered lump in the centre of the bed nearest the window.
"Poor little fella," he mused aloud, "he's all tuckered out."
Then he paused, his brow wrinkling. "All...tuckered...out?" he repeated incredulously. "Well, at least Freya can be glad to know that Rhianwen isn't picking solely on her anymore. Now she's abandoning all pretence of characterization with me, too!"
Putting a hand to his chin as he considered the point that perhaps all characterization with all the characters had been sent to Another Dimension (tm) long ago, Steiner pulled back the colourful quilt spread over his own bed...one-handed, of course, as the other hand was on his chin. Then, giving up and using both hands, he climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up around himself.
A few minutes later, all was silent in the room of the mage and the Knight of Pluto.
"Good God!" Freya shook her head in despair at the sight of two small beds, about five feet apart. "How in the world are we going to figure this out?"
Amarant shrugged.
"We could just shove 'em together."
"But...won't the innkeeper be angry if we start rearranging furniture?"
"I don't think this place gets enough customers that he can afford to bitch about it, but it's his own damn problem if he does."
"You're just in love with all the world, aren't you?"
"Oh, shut up. Look, we can either move those beds together, or we can both try to fit onto one. I'm sure we've given enough people the wrong idea with these damn handcuffs that it doesn't matter if one bed's unused."
He smirked as, predictably, she strode over to one of the beds without a moment's hesitation.
"Just shut up and help me move this," she commanded coldly, the tone contrasting with her furious blush. Together they shoved the small bed over the wooden floor with a heavy scraping sound.
"And I'm sure the innkeeper will have no problem at all with the scratches across the floor, either," Freya commented sarcastically.
"This place isn't exactly high-end. With the shape this floor's in, I think a few scrapes might actually improve the look of it. And of course, you already shot down our alternative plan to moving the beds."
She cast him an evil glare, stalking around to the other bed and dragging Amarant with her. Again, heavy dragging sounds filled the room. Suddenly, they stopped.
"Hey, what the hell...? Why can't we move it any further?"
"Oh, terrific. There's a table in between them."
Amarant sighed.
"Okay, let's get the damn table out of here."
They tried. They failed miserably.
"Alright, NOW what the hell's wrong?"
"Oh, I don't believe it!"
"What?"
"Look carefully, Amarant. The table's bolted down."
"Why the hell would they do something so fucking STUPID?"
"Maybe they have a lot of people try to make off with their furniture."
"Or maybe I should throw you out the window."
"If I go out that window, I'm taking you with me."
In spite of his current bad humour at the situation, he chuckled at this.
"I guess that's true."
"Not only that, but I doubt that kind of drop would hurt either of us."
"Okay, I get it."
"So, it would really be quite pointless. All it would do is leave us outside in the dead of night."
"Yeah, I get-"
"And then, since the key is inside the room, we would have to trouble that poor young man at the desk for another one."
"Okay, enough-"
"So, all around, utterly useless."
"Yeah. Just like that entire conversation."
She looked away with a 'hmph!'
"So, what do we do about this situation with the table?"
Amarant shrugged.
"Beats me. Just sleep on them like that?"
Raising an eyebrow, Freya gazed thoughtfully at the gap between the two beds.
"That could work. Might be a little awkward, but it's better than trying to rip up a bolted-down table."
"Or trying to share one of those things."
"Or that," she replied through gritted teeth, settling onto the bed on the left side of the table. "Well! Now that we have that settled, good- night."
"Yeah. G'night," Amarant replied, following suit...but with the other bed.
An hour or so later, in Room 5...
"Zidane!"
The Genome murmured a sleepy reply, cuddling his pillow more tightly and rolling over. The voice hissed his name again.
"Zidane!"
His only reply this time was a soft snore.
"Zidane!"
Less a hiss than an irritated bark, this one penetrated the sleepy fog surrounding his brain, and he bolted upright in his bed, his gaze darting about disorientedly. Dagger smirked, satisfied.
"Now that I have your attention, I thought you might like to know, I can't sleep."
Zidane lifted an eyebrow, confused.
"Gee..." he began uncertainly, "that's too bad, Dagger. Maybe some tea would help? We can see if Freya's still awake – she probably has some."
Dagger sighed, but did not give up. Infusing as much significance into her tone as possible, she repeated,
"Zidane. I can't sleep."
Zidane simply shook his head apologetically.
"Uh...I'm sorry. I don't really know how to help."
The young woman dropped her head to her hand in despair. Lifting her head, she smiled seductively at the young man.
"Didn't you say earlier, Mr. Tribal, that you had an idea, and I should let you know if I had trouble sleeping?"
A light broke over Zidane's face, nearly piercing through the darkness of the room.
"Oooooohhhhh..."
A Few Minutes Later, in Room 4...
Vivi sat bolt upright in bed. He put a hand to his head, dizzy. What had woken him up? A nightmare?
'It couldn't have been that...I don't think I have dreams.'
Ah! What was that sound? Making a concentrated effort to slow his breathing, Vivi listened very carefully. There it was again! Two voices, one male and one female, giggling madly amid gasps for air. Coming from the right, which meant it was Dagger and Zidane. And now Zidane was speaking. What was he saying? The idea not even occurring to him that it was rather a impolite thing to be listening in so intently, the small mage craned his neck, barely breathing at all now in his effort to hear. Ears pricking up, Vivi frowned as the words became discernable.
"Left foot yellow?" he repeated, confused. "What could that mean?"
One room over...making it Room 3...
"Amarant! Did you just hear that?"
Amarant sighed.
"Did I just hear what?"
"A loud thump!"
"No."
"Oh, come on! You'd have to be deaf not to have heard it!"
"Yeah. Deaf...or asleep."
"Oh! Were you asleep?"
"Uh...yeah."
"Sorry."
Another sigh.
"Forget it," he grumbled.
"Alright. So...what do you think it was?"
"Who cares?"
"Depending on what it was, there might be a very good reason to care."
"Like what?"
"Well...what if it was a cult of inside-out vampires, trying to turn our friends into their own fiendish kind?"
"Go to sleep," Amarant ordered. "You obviously need it."
"So…you don't think it was inside-out vampires?"
"No."
"What about normal vampires? Right-side-out vampires, so to speak?"
"Uh..."
Notes 1: That was...pretty short. Sorry. [Shrugs apologetically] Hey, short and sweet.
The next one will be longer. Much, much longer. And probably very, very bitter.
Notes 2: Well...that didn't work out quite as I had planned. It was going to be a lot sillier and more contrived. Sigh. Oh, well. There's always next chapter. [Evil grin]
And silly and contrived it will be. Muahahahaha!!!
Bye! [Huggles all the lovely, lovely readers out there who have decided to give this story a chance]
"Goodnight, Zidane," Dagger bid the young man wearily, pulling back the patchwork Crazy Quilt on one of the two small beds and climbing in. Zidane, seated on the other bed barely two feet away, ceased the task of removing his boots and pouted.
"You're going to sleep already?"
"Well, what else would I do?"
"Oh," he drawled with a waggle of his eyebrows, "I can think of a few things. After all, we're man and wife now."
"I set myself up for that," Dagger noted with a sigh. "Why do I always set myself up for these things? When will I learn?"
"Maybe you keep setting yourself up for it because you like it," Zidane suggested mildly, searching through his travelling pack. The dark-haired young woman glared at him.
"I don't think that's it," she informed him dryly. Zidane shrugged.
"Well, okay. But, if you can't sleep..." His eyebrows began to waggle again. "...Let me know."
"Good-night, Zidane," Dagger repeated firmly, flopping back onto the mattress and rolling over, thus signifying the end of the conversation.
"Goodnight, Master Vivi," Steiner called to the small boy. An unintelligible murmur was the only response. He smiled fondly at the quilt- covered lump in the centre of the bed nearest the window.
"Poor little fella," he mused aloud, "he's all tuckered out."
Then he paused, his brow wrinkling. "All...tuckered...out?" he repeated incredulously. "Well, at least Freya can be glad to know that Rhianwen isn't picking solely on her anymore. Now she's abandoning all pretence of characterization with me, too!"
Putting a hand to his chin as he considered the point that perhaps all characterization with all the characters had been sent to Another Dimension (tm) long ago, Steiner pulled back the colourful quilt spread over his own bed...one-handed, of course, as the other hand was on his chin. Then, giving up and using both hands, he climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up around himself.
A few minutes later, all was silent in the room of the mage and the Knight of Pluto.
"Good God!" Freya shook her head in despair at the sight of two small beds, about five feet apart. "How in the world are we going to figure this out?"
Amarant shrugged.
"We could just shove 'em together."
"But...won't the innkeeper be angry if we start rearranging furniture?"
"I don't think this place gets enough customers that he can afford to bitch about it, but it's his own damn problem if he does."
"You're just in love with all the world, aren't you?"
"Oh, shut up. Look, we can either move those beds together, or we can both try to fit onto one. I'm sure we've given enough people the wrong idea with these damn handcuffs that it doesn't matter if one bed's unused."
He smirked as, predictably, she strode over to one of the beds without a moment's hesitation.
"Just shut up and help me move this," she commanded coldly, the tone contrasting with her furious blush. Together they shoved the small bed over the wooden floor with a heavy scraping sound.
"And I'm sure the innkeeper will have no problem at all with the scratches across the floor, either," Freya commented sarcastically.
"This place isn't exactly high-end. With the shape this floor's in, I think a few scrapes might actually improve the look of it. And of course, you already shot down our alternative plan to moving the beds."
She cast him an evil glare, stalking around to the other bed and dragging Amarant with her. Again, heavy dragging sounds filled the room. Suddenly, they stopped.
"Hey, what the hell...? Why can't we move it any further?"
"Oh, terrific. There's a table in between them."
Amarant sighed.
"Okay, let's get the damn table out of here."
They tried. They failed miserably.
"Alright, NOW what the hell's wrong?"
"Oh, I don't believe it!"
"What?"
"Look carefully, Amarant. The table's bolted down."
"Why the hell would they do something so fucking STUPID?"
"Maybe they have a lot of people try to make off with their furniture."
"Or maybe I should throw you out the window."
"If I go out that window, I'm taking you with me."
In spite of his current bad humour at the situation, he chuckled at this.
"I guess that's true."
"Not only that, but I doubt that kind of drop would hurt either of us."
"Okay, I get it."
"So, it would really be quite pointless. All it would do is leave us outside in the dead of night."
"Yeah, I get-"
"And then, since the key is inside the room, we would have to trouble that poor young man at the desk for another one."
"Okay, enough-"
"So, all around, utterly useless."
"Yeah. Just like that entire conversation."
She looked away with a 'hmph!'
"So, what do we do about this situation with the table?"
Amarant shrugged.
"Beats me. Just sleep on them like that?"
Raising an eyebrow, Freya gazed thoughtfully at the gap between the two beds.
"That could work. Might be a little awkward, but it's better than trying to rip up a bolted-down table."
"Or trying to share one of those things."
"Or that," she replied through gritted teeth, settling onto the bed on the left side of the table. "Well! Now that we have that settled, good- night."
"Yeah. G'night," Amarant replied, following suit...but with the other bed.
An hour or so later, in Room 5...
"Zidane!"
The Genome murmured a sleepy reply, cuddling his pillow more tightly and rolling over. The voice hissed his name again.
"Zidane!"
His only reply this time was a soft snore.
"Zidane!"
Less a hiss than an irritated bark, this one penetrated the sleepy fog surrounding his brain, and he bolted upright in his bed, his gaze darting about disorientedly. Dagger smirked, satisfied.
"Now that I have your attention, I thought you might like to know, I can't sleep."
Zidane lifted an eyebrow, confused.
"Gee..." he began uncertainly, "that's too bad, Dagger. Maybe some tea would help? We can see if Freya's still awake – she probably has some."
Dagger sighed, but did not give up. Infusing as much significance into her tone as possible, she repeated,
"Zidane. I can't sleep."
Zidane simply shook his head apologetically.
"Uh...I'm sorry. I don't really know how to help."
The young woman dropped her head to her hand in despair. Lifting her head, she smiled seductively at the young man.
"Didn't you say earlier, Mr. Tribal, that you had an idea, and I should let you know if I had trouble sleeping?"
A light broke over Zidane's face, nearly piercing through the darkness of the room.
"Oooooohhhhh..."
A Few Minutes Later, in Room 4...
Vivi sat bolt upright in bed. He put a hand to his head, dizzy. What had woken him up? A nightmare?
'It couldn't have been that...I don't think I have dreams.'
Ah! What was that sound? Making a concentrated effort to slow his breathing, Vivi listened very carefully. There it was again! Two voices, one male and one female, giggling madly amid gasps for air. Coming from the right, which meant it was Dagger and Zidane. And now Zidane was speaking. What was he saying? The idea not even occurring to him that it was rather a impolite thing to be listening in so intently, the small mage craned his neck, barely breathing at all now in his effort to hear. Ears pricking up, Vivi frowned as the words became discernable.
"Left foot yellow?" he repeated, confused. "What could that mean?"
One room over...making it Room 3...
"Amarant! Did you just hear that?"
Amarant sighed.
"Did I just hear what?"
"A loud thump!"
"No."
"Oh, come on! You'd have to be deaf not to have heard it!"
"Yeah. Deaf...or asleep."
"Oh! Were you asleep?"
"Uh...yeah."
"Sorry."
Another sigh.
"Forget it," he grumbled.
"Alright. So...what do you think it was?"
"Who cares?"
"Depending on what it was, there might be a very good reason to care."
"Like what?"
"Well...what if it was a cult of inside-out vampires, trying to turn our friends into their own fiendish kind?"
"Go to sleep," Amarant ordered. "You obviously need it."
"So…you don't think it was inside-out vampires?"
"No."
"What about normal vampires? Right-side-out vampires, so to speak?"
"Uh..."
Notes 1: That was...pretty short. Sorry. [Shrugs apologetically] Hey, short and sweet.
The next one will be longer. Much, much longer. And probably very, very bitter.
Notes 2: Well...that didn't work out quite as I had planned. It was going to be a lot sillier and more contrived. Sigh. Oh, well. There's always next chapter. [Evil grin]
And silly and contrived it will be. Muahahahaha!!!
Bye! [Huggles all the lovely, lovely readers out there who have decided to give this story a chance]