AN: A chapter just before the year is over! Still in my recovery stage, so I've been working on this chapter very slowly XD Anyway, happy New Year! And I hope you enjoy reading~

Chapter 3:

Flavio sat on the edge of his bed, his left ankle heavily bandaged and a borrowed walking stick within reach. He was dressed casually, wearing a pair of shorts in place of his usual trousers as they were in need of repair. Which was what he was busying himself with.

The tear in his clothing was a bit more extensive than he had anticipated. But thankfully, his injury was not as bad. His baggy clothing offered him just enough protection.

A sharp knock at the door startled Flavio, to the point where he nearly stabbed himself with his sewing needle. He raised his head and looked toward the door of his room. The knock did not sound like the one that Fafnir would issue before he let himself into his room. Nor did it sound like anyone else.

"Who is it?"

He did not get a response. How odd.

Flavio arched an eyebrow as he set aside his sewing project. He grabbed his walking stick and hefted himself to his feet. With a slight hobbling gait, he made his way to the door. He cracked it open far enough to peek out and saw no one. Up and down the hallway, it was empty.

Just as he was about to close the door, figuring he was hearing things, he looked down at the floor and stopped. There sat a small vase of flowers. Hydrangeas if he was not mistaken.

Confusion washing over him, Flavio opened his door and stared down at the flowers. He took a moment to look up and down the hallway once more. It was still empty.

Who in the world…?

Leaning heavily against his walking aid, Flavio bent down and picked up the vase of flowers. He turned and stepped back into his room, using his elbow to shut the door. He hobbled over to his cluttered desk and leaned against it as he turned his attention to the unusual…gift?

Who would leave him flowers?

…The only person he wanted to gift him flowers was Fafnir. Would he…?

No. He would not do something like that. He was far more…straightforward. How he would prefer it, honestly.

Amongst the pink Hydrangeas sat a fold white card. Hopefully it held a name. Or at least a reason for the flowers. He immediately plucked the card out of the flowers and read the top line.

'To my beloved…wife'?

Yikes. Wrong room.

He would take the flowers and card down to the front counter later. Though, what a strange mistake. Why would someone's wife be staying at the inn? Oh, they must have had quite the argument and the sender was grovelling. Or something.

Well, it was not any of his business. The flowers were not meant for him. Best to simply give the flowers to Hana, explain the situation, and leave it at that. No harm done.

Flavio placed the vase upon his desk and set the card within the flowers, where he had found it. After he saw who the card was addressed to, he had stopped reading. He had not a clue what else the card contained. It would be rude to read anything that was not meant to him.

Grasping his walking stick, Flavio turned to make his way back to his bed when he heard another sharp knock at his door. Only, this knock was familiar. He turned in time to watch as the door open and Fafnir appeared.

"Hey, Faf."

"Hey. What are you doing up?" Fafnir asked in returned as he shut the door behind him and swiftly locked it. He would always lock the door behind him. A protective habit of his, Flavio supposed.

Flavio motioned toward the vase of flowers with a short wave of his hand. "Someone made a mistake and picked the wrong room."

Fafnir frowned, his nose crinkling in annoyance. He looked at the flowers with a slightly narrow gaze, almost suspicious of them. Almost offended by them. He soon took note of the white card amongst the pink flowers and he quickly plucked out the small piece of cardboard.

"Don't read the card," Flavio chided. "It's for someone else."

But Fafnir ignored him and read the card anyway. Flavio just rolled his eyes and concentrated on cleaning up his sewing project and setting aside. And then getting himself comfortable on his bed. It was quite cold, so he slipped under the covers. With his injured ankle, he needed to keep warm, after all.

"Whoever sent this is a loser," Fafnir announced.

Flavio snorted to hide his amusement. "Now, don't go judging strangers. At least they're trying to be considerate."

Fafnir placed the card back within the flowers. "What are you going to do with them?"

"Hand them to Hana and tell her that the sender got the wrong room, obviously," Flavio replied. "They're obviously not meant for me."

Who would be sending him, of all people, flowers?

Fafnir walked over to the bed and flopped down onto it, right next to him. He rolled over onto his side, toward him, and rested his head in the crook of his elbow. "I'm still angry at you."

Fair.

Flavio wiggled a hand out from beneath the blankets and tapped his fingers against Fafnir's forehead. "Don't go getting concussions in the labyrinth, then."

"It could have ended terribly." Fafnir gently took Flavio's hand in his. With the hand that held the Fafnir Knight mark.

Flavio's gaze fell to the vivid blue mark on the back of Fafnir's hand and his eyes softened with sadness.

The dark skinned appendaged always brought a wave of grief to Flavio. It signified a fate, a destiny that was filled with pain and suffering. One that was forced upon Fafnir during childhood. One he had no choice but to carry.

Yet, Fafnir had defied that fate. He was meant to sacrifice himself in the darken halls of Ginnungagap.

Still, despite his defiance, the symbol signified a future that was uncertain.

Flavio entwined his fingers with Fafnir's. "And it could have ended terribly for you if I hadn't. Your life is important, too."

Very important. The most important thing to him.

Fafnir sighed yet did not attempt to utter a reply. It would only lead to them going back and forth. Both insisting that the other was more important, more precious than the other. It was something they were sure to never agree on.

A small crease appeared in Fafnir's brow and he hold around Flavio's hand tightened.

"What's wrong?" Flavio asked, though he had a feeling he knew what the answer was.

"My hand is aching," Fafnir said simply.

"Oh." That happened often to his cursed hand, unfortunately. "Let me see."

Flavio slipped his other hand from his nest of blankets and cupped Fafnir's hand. Gently, he massaged the delicate muscles and tendons. One thing he was grateful for was that Fafnir's hand, though gnarled and monstrous from the curse, remained warm to the touch. It was reassuring to know that blood continued to pulse through his veins. And that Fafnir could still experience the sense of touch.

He did not hate Fafnir's cursed hand. It might seem like it at times, but he did not hate it. It made him…sad.

If only he could go back in time and stopped…that from happening.

Yet, that was something he could not do. No matter how hard he tried.

So, all he could do was offer him a sense of relief through the gentle massaging of his hand. He was not entirely sure what he was doing was correct, but Fafnir found comfort in his touch, so that was all that mattered in the end.

He hoped and prayed that they could get through this Fafnir Knight nonsense unscathed and they could return to the Midgard library. And back to their normal lives.

… … … … …

Fafnir readjusted his winter coat and patted his pocket, ensuring that Flavio's shopping list was secured safely away. With his ankle still painful (though, he would not admit at much, Fafnir could tell) and with the early morning dew a thin layer of ice thanks to the low temperature, Flavio was unable to do his usual errands. So, naturally, Fafnir volunteered to do them for him.

He had not realised that mother-hen took on a lot of responsibilities looking after the guild. A visit to the Sitoth Trading was just the start.

Fafnir needed to have a chat with Flavio about his work load.

"Oh, Sir Fafnir, are you going out?"

"Hm." Fafnir turned to look behind. Arianna stood just a few feet away, dressed regally and warmly in a long winter coat. "Flavio wants me to do some shopping."

Arianna clapped her hands excitedly in front of her. "Allow me to join you. It appears to be a lovely morning."

"Alright." He did not see the harm.

With a pep in her step, Arianna quickly reached his side and Fafnir turned to move through the entrance of Flaus Inn. It was a fine day, thankfully. He should be able to get through his errands quickly and return to Flavio to ensure he did not try to sneak in some chores on that injured ankle of his.

However, as they stepped outside, Arianna slipped her hand around his elbow. As he turned to look toward her, she offered him a shy smile. "The ground is a little icy from the morning dew. It would be beneficial for the both of us if we walk together like this."

Fafnir was not so sure. He wanted to get his errands over with. But he guessed he could not afford slipping and injuring something. He would get some chiding from Flavio then. But he would also get some fussing from him, too.

Talk about pros and cons…

Nah. Better get a move on. First stop, Sitoth Trading.

There were a lot of people out in the streets of High Lagaard. To the point that Arianna had to grasp onto his arm tightly and move closer to him. It was a little frustrating, but he assumed that the crowds were due to residents preparing themselves for the bitter winter seasons. He had heard rumours about how brutal the snowy periods could be around these parts.

After a few minutes of walking, they finally reached the familiar Sitoth Trading. And not a moment too soon.

"Welcome!" Abigail automatically greeted as they stepped inside, before she smiled at the two of them. "Oh, are you on a little date?"

Arianna laughed airily behind her hand, a light dusting of pink dancing across her cheeks. Yet, she made no attempt to deny the question. She simply smiled, giving the impression that she was actually quite overjoyed by the little accusation.

He wasn't, however.

Fafnir looked over at Abigail and shook his head. "No, it's not a date. Flavio was injured in the labyrinth yesterday. I'm doing a few errands for him."

Abigail's eyes widened in surprise and concern. "Oh my, is he all right?"

"He is fine, thankfully," Fafnir answered. He had to gently shrug Arianna's hold from his arm as the shopping list happened to be in that pocket. He could not help but notice that Arianna pulled her arms back rather sharply, in an agitated fashion. Which was unlike her.

A motion that she, herself, soon took note of as well as she soon placed a smile on her lips and folded her hands elegantly in front of her.

"An injury to his ankle," Fafnir explained as he handed the young girl the shopping list Flavio had written up for him. "But he thinks he can go about as normal, in spite of the bandages. I'm risking a lot by doing this errand. I better not find him up and walking about when I get back to the inn."

Abigail giggled in genuine amusement as she moved about the shop, gathering the items needed. "I'll be sure to get everything on this list so he doesn't have an excuse to sneak out of the inn."

"Oh, he'll make up an excuse, but at least he won't have a legitimate one."

The young shop-keeper giggled again. She then uttered a sound of surprise. "Oh, Mr Fafnir, did you read the shopping list?"

Fafnir arched an eyebrow. "No, why?"

Yet, another giggle. "It seems that Mr Flavio knew you wouldn't, so he asked me to remind you that since you're out, to pick up the mail at the post office."

Fafnir rolled his eyes and sighed. Honestly. "Yes, yes. He only reminded me three times this morning."

"Aww, you're like a married couple. I'm so envious. I wish I had someone I was as close to as the two of you are," Abigail lamented with a sigh. "Relationship goals for every girl, I guess."

Fafnir said nothing in response to dispute that. Simply gave a half smile as the dedicated shop-keeper prattled on as she gathered up the items into a brown paper bag.

As he reached into his pocket to pull out the money for payment, he risked a quick glance in Arianna's direction. And he hid a wince.

The enthusiasm and cheeriness that Arianna had displayed at the beginning of their errand had dissipated significantly. And Fafnir could only assume it was because he had, perhaps rudely, stated that they were not on a date.

However, it was true, as bad as it made him feel.

He did not like being a jerk. He truly didn't. But he did not want anyone to be mistaken, least of all Flavio. He could not risk a misunderstanding. Did not want to give Arianna the wrong idea. She was like a sister to him. And the notion of romance, of courtship, was wrong to him. Almost repulsive, to be honest. The idea of courting her, not Arianna herself. She was the sister he never had.

Yet, the idea of courting Flavio, someone he knew since childhood, felt right.

Some used to say that they were like brothers, more than best friends. But Fafnir was no longer content with that. Funny how, the bleak emptiness and silence of Ginnungagap made him realise that he wanted more out of life.

Did that make him a hypocrite toward Arianna? Possibly. That was just the way things went, he supposed.

"Thank you for your patronage!" Abigail said cheerfully. "Tell Mr Flavio to take it easy and I hope he recovers soon."

"I will," Fafnir said simply in return before he and Arianna exited the store.

As they stepped outside, he quickly noted that Arianna made no attempt to slip her arm through his. Like she had done just outside the inn. She was…upset with him. Because he said it was not a date and he spoke about Flavio.

If so…

There was nothing he could say that would reassure her, unfortunately.

Should he suggest that she take him by the arm again? He did not mind her doing so. There were a lot of people about. And the paths were slippery. And it was the brotherly thing to do. But that was all it was. Brotherly.

Someone bumping into him from behind prevented Fafnir from coming to a decision and he stumbled a half step forward. He ensured that the shopping bag he carried remained firm in his grasp before he turned around, to either brush off the person who bumped into him or give them a glare for doing so.

As he turned, he found himself looking at a man a few years older than he with pitch black hair and piercing emerald green eyes. Those eyes were truly the most striking thing about the man. He was probably six-foot tall, give or take. Dressed in dark colours. Which served to amplify his intense green eyes.

"My apologises," the man stated, his voice steady, normal, well-practiced. "It seems the citizens of High Lagaard are frantic in preparation for the Winter season."

"It is quite alright," Arianna answered immediately, ever polite and serene. "I do hope you were not injured in any way, kind sir."

"My, what a polite young lady." He fell silent as he ran those…unnerving green eyes over each of them in turn. "Oh, do you two perhaps belong to that guild that supports the restaurant run by the minister's granddaughter?"

"Oh, yes," Arianna smiled as she clapped her hands in front of her excitedly. "Madam Regina is an exception chef!"

The man smiled, charmingly. Far too charmingly, in Fafnir's opinion. "I have yet to visit, but it has been on my schedule. You must give me your recommendations when I am able to visit. And I would love it so if you endear me with your worldly exploits. I would be most interested to hear the tales of the guild who has earned the attention of the Grand Duchy. From what I heard; your guild's survivalist is quite the cartographer."

"Is there a point to this?" Fafnir asked sharply.

"Now, Sir Fafnir," Arianna chided him lightly before she turned back to the mysterious stranger. "You must excuse him; he is quite protective of his guildmates."

Fafnir felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle when the man turned those sharp green eyes in his direction.

"I mean you no harm," he said, with well-practiced pacifism. "I am simply…intrigued by the exploits of the members of the Midgard Library. It is not every day, after all, that esteemed members of such an organisation would trouble themselves with exploring a labyrinth. Two, at that."

Two labyrinths, huh…

Fafnir had enough of this conversation. "We're leaving," he said, grabbing Arianna by the elbow.

"B-but, I…" Arianna stuttered, but thankfully made no attempt to dislodge her arm from his grip.

Fafnir turned around, picking a random direction. Any to get away from the guy that, for one reason or another, made him bristle with protectiveness. And his hand, his cursed hand, ache. As if there was something…not right about him.

"Lord Mandelson, if you are interested."

"I'm not," Fafnir spat over his shoulder and kept on walking.