AN: And we're finally getting to the fun parts XD

Chapter 22:

Flavio hefted a large basket of clothes onto the bench in the laundry room. Of course, he had already asked permission from Hana to borrow the room for a bit. Ever the dutiful and helpful matron, she had offered to do it for him, but he declined. He needed to do it. For himself as well as for the others.

Luckily it was a sunny day. So far. He needed to make the best of it.

He was not alone. Fafnir stood in the hallway, just a few paces away, with Bertrand, the two conversing with one another. What the two were talking about, he did not know. They spoke in hushed tones, not wanting others, not wanting him, to overhear them.

They were likely talking about the restaurant…

Hrothgar entered the laundry room and perched himself upon a bench opposite where Flavio stood. "The need to keep busy can be a frustrating one, hm?"

Flavio gave a short laugh of agreement as he began to sort the clothes between darks and lights. "It can be. I just want to feel useful, you know?"

"Oh yes, everyone does."

Flavio tried his best to suppress a wince. "I'm sorry, it's hard on everyone, isn't it?"

He heard Hrothgar sigh quietly behind him. "Please, stop apologising. It's hardest on you, so do try to think about yourself for once."

"Sorry," Flavio automatically replied. That time he did wince and cast a quickly, apologetic glance over his shoulder at the redheaded protector. "Hah, right. I'll try my best."

Flavio picked up Fafnir's white shirt to add it to the light's pile, only to inexplicably find a tear in the seam by the collar. That would not do. He needed to fix that. Fortunately, he brought his sewing kit with him.

"Though, I suppose I don't have much right to talk," Hrothgar began, his tone light and somewhat empathetic to lighten the mood. "It's not easy thinking about yourself when all you've done is think about others."

Right?

Flavio grabbed his sewing kit and carefully attempted to thread the needle. "It's just…so hard, you know? I have never been the centre of attention before." He managed to get the white thread through the eye and sighed. "I don't think I like it very much."

Hrothgar chuckled. "I've noticed that you've become quite the beloved figure around High Lagaard."

With the sewing needle pinched between his finger and thumb, Flavio grabbed Fafnir's shirt and turned around to face Hrothgar, leaning his back against the bench behind him. "Not quite to your standard, though. Especially amongst the explorer community."

"I suppose so." Hrothgar appeared absentminded as he leaned back on his hands and looked up at the ceiling. Perhaps recalling a memory. "You know, someone said something that has resonated with me to this very day. It was something like "there will be times where there will be some who will hate you for how you are loved." That may apply here."

Flavio almost stabbed himself with his sewing needle. "Jealousy?"

Hrothgar tilted his head forward to look at him. "Perhaps." He gave him a small smile. "Of course, it could be way off the mark, too."

Flavio nodded his head idly and turned his gaze back to his task of restoring Fafnir's shirt. His eyes drifted to the door leading back into the inn. Where Fafnir and Bertrand stood just out in the hallway.

"…Do you know about Regina?"

Hrothgar leaned forward where he sat on the bench, his hands curled around the edge. "Bertrand told me," he admitted.

Yeah, he was not surprised. Everyone in the guild likely knew.

"Honestly, Arianna is more devastated than I am," Flavio said as he returned to the easy task of fixing Fafnir's shirt. Something he could do without much thought or concentration. "I guess I kinda expected. In a way."

Hrothgar tilted his head to the side questioningly. "With how you were treated in regards to everyone else?"

Flavio nodded. "I didn't truly understand it back then, but it kinda makes sense now. I get the feeling that Regina didn't really understand it, either. She was likely acting out subconsciously, annoyed that everyone was drawn to me instead of her."

Or something like that.

It would explain why he was always thrown out the front to work with the customers. To meet and greet them. To show them to their table. To take their orders and to hand them to Bertrand, who be the one to give them to Regina. Then be the one to give them their food. And when things die down, be kicked out of the restaurant for 'errands', only to repeat the cycle when things get busy again.

He was the one that was always working. Always on his feet.

He did not exactly mind. He preferred keeping busy. He liked meeting new people.

But…he was being taken advantage of.

Was he?

No, he was. Compared to the others, he was the worker. Someone who was to be used to ensure the end goal was achieved. He was treated differently than the others. They were allowed to sit around, relax, use the restaurant as they pleased. But Flavio was expected to work. Urged to. His workaholic habits provoked and encouraged.

When Flavio hurt his hand that time, Regina was immediately worried about losing a waiter. Not about him. Not about his injury. About losing a servant.

It probably was not intentional. Not entirely malicious.

But it happened.

Flavio carefully tied off the stitch and added Fafnir's shirt to the light's pile of clothes. "I don't know how to feel about the restaurant now. If it is to return."

"It'll take months to be restored," Hrothgar added. "You'll have plenty of time to ponder about it."

"That's true." Flavio packed away his sewing kit. "We may come to some kind of truce then."

They definitely needed those months to figure things about. The restaurant returning from an arson attack will improve its reputation. But they needed to expand on Regina's lacking people's skills if they wanted to keep the positive momentum.

"Though…a lot of people think I should just open my own store," Flavio mused.

"Hm. That's quite a commitment." Hrothgar suddenly chuckled lightly. "But, I can see it. You pottering around. In your own little store."

People really needed to stop saying that. They made the idea sound enticing.

"I've got a few more commitments I need to see through first," Flavio said with a slight shake of his head, but a smile on his lips nevertheless.

They…they still needed to deal with the labyrinth, with the Fafnir Knight, and Ginnungagap.

Flavio resisted the urge to sigh and slump his shoulders in exhaustion. There was just…so much they needed to do. They did not need the extra stress of his stalker situation.

So much trouble for nothing…

"Are you all right?" Hrothgar asked him softly.

Flavio nodded his head as he idly grabbed a pile of clothes and placed them into the washer. "I'm just tired."

"It's been an overwhelming couple of weeks for you, hasn't it?" Sympathy and empathy were abundant in Hrothgar's voice. "But, at the very least, you're together now with Fafnir, are you not?"

Flavio was grateful that his back was toward the redheaded protector as his features heated up in a flaring blush. "Y-yeah."

"Ah, I'm glad," Hrothgar immediately replied. "You need someone dependable by your side."

Flavio fell still and just smiled as he thought about Fafnir. "Yeah. I don't know what I would do without him."

He dared not think about it.

"Hng…"

A quiet groan of discomfort made Flavio tense and he immediately glanced over his shoulder at the only occupant in the room with him. He turned just in time to witness Hrothgar fumble his way off the counter. He gripped the edge of it with one hand while the other clutched his forehead as he bent forward at the waist. Flavio immediately stopped what he was doing and crossed the short distance between them.

"Hrothgar?" Flavio grabbed him by the elbow in an attempt to help him stand up straight. "What? What's wrong?"

"I…I don't know," Hrothgar stuttered slowly in response. "I feel…tired all of a sudden."

Tired? Was he feeling ill? A sudden onset of an illness, perhaps?

"Shit." Hrothgar movements were both frantic but sluggish as he pushed away from the laundry counter to grasp Flavio by his arm and peered up at him through barely opened eyes. "F-Flavio, run."

Flavio froze. "What?"

Hrothgar's eyes began to close on their own accord, even as he tried to push him away. "It's…It's a hex. Run."

He then crumpled to the floor, landing on his side, his head falling into the crook of his elbow.

"Hroth-!"

A strange, tingling sensation suddenly struck Flavio, lodging his voice in his throat. Almost choking him. It was like a cold, wispy hand had grabbed the back of his neck, causing his hairs to stand on end. The sensation lasted only a moment before his vision blurred and his limbs, his eyelids especially, felt heavy.

No…

Flavio dropped to his knees next to Hrothgar and fell to sit haphazardly on his heels.

N-no, he had to fight back…

But Fafnir and Bertrand…they were just in the hallway. And the door to the outside. It was locked. From the inside. Why were they being hexed? What…was the point? Or, were Fafnir and Bertrand also going to be targeted?

Wait…

Th-the Grimoire stone from yesterday. It should be in the pocket of his coat…

If he could…

Flavio's vision blurred heavily; his world tilted. But he had to reach for his pocket. He still wore his jacket. The Grimoire stone was close. If he could just get his fingers around it. Just touch it, he could activate it…

A metallic click made Flavio freeze and his heart all but stopped when a low, almost inaudible creak was heard.

The door that led into the back garden of the inn…opened? No, it was locked. How did they open it from the outside? Did they have a key?

That cold chill of the sleep hex being reinstated drew a soft gasp from Flavio and his world began to grey out. He felt himself sway and he fell to his side, landing heavily.

Through his blurry vision, through the strain of sunlight, he swore he saw the door of the laundry room open. And a darken figure appear. Tall. Towering over him.

Boots…

It was all he could see. But it was enough for Flavio to know it was them. The one behind everything. His stalker. They had finally showed themselves.

But his vision was failing him. The hex was too strong. He had to choose between summoning up the energy to get a visual on them or getting to the grimoire stone that was in his pocket.

He had to concentrate on getting the grimoire stone.

Flavio grimaced and gritted his teeth in a desperate attempt to stay away as he reached into his coat. He had the grimoire stone. He knew he did. He placed it in his coat that very morning.

It was so close…

The boots paused in their steps.

And took a slight step back.

Flavio pulled out the grimoire stone and gripped it tightly in his hand.

Please work…

"R-refresh…"

A strange warmth flooded through Flavio's body rapidly and Flavio immediately sat up straight, instantly awake and alert. Fully awake and conscious.

It…worked?

He whipped his head around to look toward the door. Where his stalker appeared from. But all he saw was an open door that swung lightly in the soft morning breeze and the bright sunlight from the world outside.

They fled.

They could not have gotten far!

"Fafnir!"

A split second later, Fafnir was in the room. His eyes widened when he realised that both Flavio and Hrothgar were sprawled out on the floor and the back door was open. "What? What happened?"

"Someone tried to use a sleep hex on us," Flavio explained simply as he placed his hands on Hrothgar, readying for the use of the refresh grimoire.

"What?!" Like a shot, Fafnir was out the back door and on the search for anyone suspicious.

Bertrand lingered behind, immediately crouching down on the floor in front of Flavio, his eyes narrow in a hard gaze. "Did you see them?"

Flavio shook his head. "Just their boots, not nearly enough to identify someone."

They were light brown, though not brand new. They were…out of place in a building full of hearty explorers. They looked as if they had never set foot inside the labyrinth. Not even once.

Strange.

Bertrand uttered a curse under his breath and pushed himself to his feet to move toward the door, also. He did not step through it, however, choosing to stop at the threshold. Choosing to stay close by in case their assailant returned.

Flavio hoped that Fafnir was all right. With his Fafnir Knight Curse, spells and hexes were not all that effective on him. But there was always a first time.

If that bastard did anything to him, Flavio would never forgive himself.

Flavio shook his head to push that thought aside for the time being as he focused on the task of waking Hrothgar from his sleep trance. He leaned forward and with the refresh grimoire stone in one hand, he rested his palm of his other hand against Hrothgar's forehead.

A moment after Flavio activated the stone, Hrothgar crinkled his nose before his eyes fluttered open. "Are you all right?"

Hrothgar appeared confused, but his eyes widened a mere second later and he immediately pushed himself into a sitting position with his hands and looked directly at him. "What happened? You weren't hit with the hex as well?"

Flavio sat back on the heels of his feet and cradled the grimoire stone in his hands. "No, I was. You remember that medic that came up to me yesterday by the restaurant? I used the grimoire stone he gave me. It worked immediately."

Hrothgar glanced down at the stone in his hands before he released a sigh of relief. "I guess we owe a thanks to that medic, then."

"Are you all right?" Flavio asked again and Hrothgar nodded his head.

"Yes, just a little lightheaded. I'm not used to hexes."

Who was?

Flavio and Hrothgar began the process of picking themselves off the floor as Fafnir prowled back through the door. The deep scowl on his face evidently told everyone that he was not happy.

"Any luck?" Bertrand asked, anyway.

"No," Fafnir said sharply, his frustration palpable as he turned and closed the door, locking it securely. "There was no one about other than a few oldies trying not to slip on the ice."

Flavio felt partly guilty. Maybe he should have concentrated on calling for Fafnir than reaching for the grimoire stone? But he could barely get his voice to work, nothing above a whisper anyway.

Bertrand frowned deeply as he looked at the door before he looked over at Flavio, and somehow his frown deepened. "You know what this was, don't you?"

Fafnir dragged a hand over his face. "Yeah…"

Flavio furrowed his brow as he looked between the two men. "What?" he asked. "Tell me."

"Kid," Bertrand sighed, "this was an attempt to abduct you."

The desperate need to deny the possibility sat on the tip of Flavio's tongue, but a wave of nausea swept over him, killing those words instantly. He covered his mouth with his hand and knew that he had gone pale as Fafnir had crossed the short distance between them and swept him up into his strong arms, holding him and supporting him when his legs suddenly felt so weak.

He wanted to deny it. He so badly wanted to deny that anyone would want to abduct him. But also knew them to be true.

A few more steps…a few more seconds and that sleep hex could have worked…

If he did not have that refresh grimoire stone…

Oh god…

"To snatch you right from under our noses, no less," Bertrand muttered, his tone full of self-loathing and bitter.

Fafnir cradled Flavio against his chest, Flavio grasping onto the front of his jacket with a white knuckle grip. "He's advancing."

"Yeah."

"Grab the grimoire stones," Fafnir suddenly ordered. "We need to sort through them for anything useful. I don't know if our assailant is a hexer or has a grimoire stone, too. But they obviously tried to use a sleep hex. They may have others. We need to be prepared."

"Right," Bertrand immediately replied, without any protest or exasperation. "Let's commandeer the tearoom. It'll give us more space."

"Sure."

"I'm sorry I was so useless," Hrothgar apologised, his tone also filled with self-loathing.

Bertrand walked over to the redheaded protector and placed his hand atop of his head. "Don't be like that. We weren't expecting them to use hexes. We probably should have. It won't happen again." He gave his hair a slight, good-natured ruffling before he pulled his hand back. "Now, help me with the grimoire stones."

"Of course," Hrothgar eagerly returned, and the two protectors turned and disappeared deeper into the inn.

Leaving Flavio and Fafnir alone in that laundry room.

"Fafnir…"

Fafnir hugged him tightly, burying his face into the nook of Flavio's shoulder. He was more shaken up about the near-abduction than it outwardly appeared. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Flavio managed to unfurl his fingers from around the material of Fafnir's jacket to slip his arms around Fafnir, to return the hug and to run his fingers through his white hair. A small, perhaps feeble attempt to comfort him. "You were when it counted. They came from outside. You were just a few feet away. Just a shout away. They used a hex on me. They knew what they were doing."

They definitely did it on purpose. They have had to know that Fafnir and Bertrand were close by. They certainly did not care that Hrothgar was in the same room.

They did not care about anything.

He…could not go anywhere without them tormenting him, could he? He hated it. He hated it so much.

When would it stop?

No…what had to happen to make it stop?

… … … … …

Fafnir stayed close to Flavio's side as he stubbornly finished the washing. He had started it. He needed to finish it. After that close encounter, surely his stalker wouldn't be stupid enough to try again so soon.

That was the mantra that Flavio kept in his head, anyway.

With that done, Flavio and Fafnir made their way to the tearoom. Where the fireplace was burning brightly, promptly reminding Flavio just how chilled he actually was. And where Hrothgar and Bertrand had grimoire stones scattered about in a hasty attempt to sort through them.

They had a lot of stones, ranging from slightly damaged, to pristine, top of the range.

Flavio idly patted his coat pocket, where the refresh grimoire stone sat. This little stone was not going anywhere. He was going to keep it close to him, out of sheer paranoia.

"How's it going?" Fafnir asked as the two of them walked into the room.

"Slow going," Bertrand returned. "The list we had has gone missing, so we have to inspect each and every stone again. I'm also pretty sure some are missing."

That brought a frown to Flavio's lips. Missing? Though, it was possible that a few stones got left behind in the ruins of the restaurant. They had five-hundred of them, after all. One thing that kept a few regulars returning were the bargaining of grimoire stones.

"Hello, boys!" Hana's cheerful voice suddenly echoed into the room long before the stout women herself made an appearance, expertly balancing a large silver tray in her hands. "I know you're working so hard; I brought you some afternoon tea."

Flavio immediately turned and gave the dedicated matron a warm smile. "Hana, thank you. We appreciate it."

Hrothgar leaned forward from where he sat on the couch to make room on the coffee table situated in front of the fire place. "Sorry for stealing your tearoom like this."

"Oh-hoho, not at all!" Hana immediately replied good-naturedly.

She placed the tray down and seemed set to leave them to get back to work. But as she instinctively gave a visual sweep of the room to ensure everything was in order, her gaze fell upon the tall tree that stood in the corner.

And she immediately clapped her hands in delight. "Oh, you've been working on the Christmas tree!"

Flavio wrapped his arms around himself and moved to sit down in the chair closest to the tree. "Ah, yes. On and off. Not entirely sure I'm doing the right thing."

"Nonsense, it's beautiful! I knew it would be!"

Thank goodness for Hana. She always knew how to lift his mood. She was the mother figure he never had but always wanted.

"Oh yes, you must go to the great Christmas tree festival tomorrow!" Hana suddenly said. "You'll have a wonderful time. They have street and food vendors, many exotic items from across the world to buy, and you simply must do the Tree of wishes ceremony!"

An expression of realisation flickered across Hrothgar's face. "Ah, is that tomorrow?" he turned to regard the others. "It's a very popular event on High Lagaard's social calendar. A lot of people are going to be there," he explained further.

A festival? It sounded nice. And should be fun, something Flavio's guild deserved, but should Flavio himself go? A lot of people was to be there. Possibly including his stalker.

"You surely must attend!" Hana insisted. "I'm sure a lot of people would love to see you there."

…Surely, his stalker would not do anything with so many people around?

"Of course, Hana. It sounds wonderful."