The Dancing Rat

The innkeeper was a middle-aged man, with a round belly and a double chin. He wore simple woollen clothes. He was vigorously cleaning the already clean looking counter with a piece of cloth. "May I offer you some wine? You seem tired, we have rooms." His jittery motions only hastened as the cloaked man he was speaking to remained silent for a moment.

"A room would be nice, yes." He said after a moment of silence. His eyes narrowed as he watched the innkeeper nod several times. The man seemed relieved to have gotten a customer, but his jittery, stiff motions didn't stop.

"How about that wine, sir?" He asked, taking quick, shallow breaths. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve, then forced a smile. The missing teeth in his mouth made the cloaked man wish he didn't try so hard to be welcoming.

"Uh…" He glanced at the table with the people huddled together. Their stares were boring holes thing his back. He shuddered. "I'd prefer a glass of water." Perhaps alcohol wasn't the best idea right now.

"Right away sir!" The man hurried to the side to get a clean glass and filled it with water. He placed it on the counter, took a step back and smiled again. "Here, sir. May I offer you anything else? Some food? We have stew today!"

The other man quickly shook his head. "I'm not hungry. I will go straight to my room," He took a sip of the water, and rolled it in his mouth. It didn't taste odd, just… warm. He sighed and drank the remainder of the glass, then took out a few copper coins and placed them on the counter. "The key, please."

The Innkeepers eyes widened at the sight of the coins, prompting him to scramble to find the key. A moment later, his customer was on the way upstairs, and he was counting his newfound coin.

"Damn it, what am I even doing here?" The other man mumbled as he closed the door to his room and locked it. Calling this a room was being too generous, as there was a single bed and nothing more. Not even much place to stand, as the bed took up half of the room. "I can't believe I paid money for this hell hole." He sighed and sank onto the bed.

At least there were no bugs; or at least any bugs that he could see. While that was a relief, the dust covered thin, tattered blanket and almost non-existent mattress didn't help him feel any safer.

He took off his cloak and glanced at the only other object in the room: A cracked mirror.

"I look like a beggar." He mumbled as he tried to brush his hair back. He felt like a beggar too – filthy and hungry. Yet, he simply couldn't bring himself to eat here. "Just one more day, Aoric." He tried to reassure himself. "Just one more day, and you get to meet her."

His shoulders dropped as he looked at his own reflection. His black hair was as clean as it could be after a week's journey in the wilderness, and he wasn't too wounded – just a scratch here and a bruise there. He looked fairly alright for a journey so long and from so far away. But those dark circles under his eyes needed to go.

"I should have never accepted. Idiot." He mumbled as he shook the blanket to get rid of all this dust. He continued swearing at himself as he crawled into the bed and closed his eyes. A restless sleep awaited him tonight.

The warm water flowed down her spotless skin as she stretched her arms. The cold breeze coming in from the open window was a welcome chance. Her crimson lips curled up with a smile as she undid the knot holding her braid.

Her long, black hair flowed freely to her back, under the warm water of the bath. It had been a long journey, almost four days by cart. She had missed warm baths during her time away. The villages and smaller cities simply didn't have such things.

She remained under the flowing warm water for a while longer, thoroughly cleaning her hair and her body. Had he arrived, she wondered, but her mind didn't linger on him for long, as a knock on her door pulled her away from her thoughts.

"Dinner is ready, my lady." A woman's voice sounded. "Lady Cecilia is expecting you."

The woman sighed. "Alright, I'll be there in a moment."

She heard the footsteps of the maid leaving her door, and then rolled her eyes. Cecilia was as formal as always, though her rumbling stomach quickly made her think that perhaps her sister's insistence on eating dinner together wasn't such a bad thing.

She finished washing, turned the water off and stepped out of the bathtub. She shivered as the cold wind brushed against her naked skin. It was a cold evening, even for her own standards. She dried herself with a soft, fluffy towel, then put on her white silken dress.

She braided her hair again and tied them with a white ribbon. As she headed to the door, she paused by the mirror to take a quick look at herself. Satisfied with her looks, her lips curled up and she opened the door.

Her room was on the second floor of the large mansion. Her sister was waiting for her right downstairs, in the dining room.

Her naked feet made no sound as she walked on the soft, fluffy carpet. Her graceful steps carried her through the hallway, down the stairs and across the antre. Her gaze didn't even linger on the lavishly decorated interior. The gold and ivory inlaid ornaments were normal to her, as were the statues made by incredible artists.

The smell of rare, bloody beef reached her nostrils as soon as she stepped into the dining room. Her sight focused on the dinner – meat.

"Welcome home, dear sister."