|| The Harbinger's Guest ||

|| Part 13 ||

Author's note:

I'm working on editing some of the older parts, and I've just finished rewriting part 3. If you want to read it again, feel free to! I think it's a lot better now (I hope).

Oh and by the way, this part is a bit spicy. Just a little. Enjoy!

~

As Aether entered the room once again, Scaramouche leaning against him impatiently, Lana seemed to perk up in surprise. The fire had been lit, and the curtains had been drawn over the window.

"Lana, thank you for that," Aether smiled.

"You may leave now," Scaramouche grumbled, still leaning against Aether as his limbs shook from exhaustion. It was a surprise he hadn't collapsed yet.

Lana nodded, and promptly left the room after hearing the Balladeer's order. Aether helped Scaramouche walk over to the bed, letting him lie down against the pillows. He groaned lightly, leaning back until he was comfortable. Aether stood beside him.

"Do you want me to—"

"Shush," Scaramouche interrupted, waving him off. He rolled over, not bothering to slide under the covers.

After that, he did not move. Aether watched him for a moment to see if he was going to. Nothing. Aether walked around to the other side of the bed, looking at him to find his eyes were indeed closed, his body sinking into the sheets he laid above. He had switched off like a light, and was not stirring at all. Aether sat next to him, leaning against the bed frame.

"Wow..." Aether mumbled out loud. At least he knew the Balladeer wasn't being dramatic.

Aether looked around the room, considering letting the Balladeer keep the bed for himself. He hadn't eaten in a while, he realised, and suddenly regretted not asking Lana for something. For a while, he pondered what options he would have in the morning. Something hot, Aether prayed. Scaramouche slept soundly beside him. It was strange how little his chest rose and fell.

Aether sat up and headed for the bathroom, deciding to take his time with cleaning himself. He washed his hair, scrubbed his body— the whole process felt nice. Relaxing. It was better without someone sitting by the fire outside, waiting for him to finish up. Knowing that, Aether would have tried to be quicker, out of his irrational fear that he would appear too obsessed with his hygiene. He realised, if anything, the Balladeer would probably appreciate it more if he took his time.

Aether changed into some nightwear, discarding his clothes by the fire. He decided he would deal with them later. He looked back over to the bed, watching Scaramouche sleep for a moment. Just as it had before, it seemed so... unnatural. He resembled a corpse more than he did a sleeping human. His body barely moved at all, and Aether really had to focus in order to see any motion. He approached the bedside and pulled up the covers that weren't weighted down by Scaramouche's body. He slid underneath them, lying directly on the edge of the bed.

He sighed, glancing over to Scaramouche, who was sleeping soundly. Aether had no room, and he decided that was not good enough. He sat up and pushed Scaramouche's shoulder harshly, forcing him to roll over again.

Scaramouche grunted in response, his eyes fluttering open and glaring directly into Aether's. He grumbled something unintelligible to himself and rolled over to his side, now facing away from the Traveler. He made no further effort to fight Aether, and instead fell back asleep, having no energy to pursue a valid punishment for him.

Aether smiled, humming happily to himself. He slid back underneath the sheets smugly, and rested his head against his pillows. He was facing the back of Scaramouche's head, and that was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes.