The Demon Boy

Day Six - Morning

     Mornings at the manor are always quiet. The loudest sounds are the bird calls and Myr's occasional snores. It's always shocking how quiet it is. Sometimes Casper wonders if all the people, not in the manor but in the world, have suddenly disappeared, leaving him completely and utterly alone on the earth. Sometimes it's wishful thinking. Sometimes it's a stubborn uneasiness. Then Myr snores and it all disappears, only to be replaced by the thought that it's the two of them alone together. It's at times like these that unease turns into panic.

     Balor can't come soon enough. The moment Casper gets his chores for the day, he is out of here. Until then, he's stuck. The possibility of leaving Balor high and dry and leaving without his say so, without his knowing so, is tempting. The possibility of Balor tracking him down and chewing him out (or worse) after? Not so much.

     'Violation of terms may result in revocation of boons... amongst other punishments.'

     Yeah, no. As long as Casper's stuck in the witch man's house, you better be sure he'll be on his best behavior. He should make himself presentable too; Balor might be dropping in on him at any minute. What passes as 'looking presentable' means straightening out the wrinkles in his clothes and putting on his shoes. He gives himself a sniff. He could use a bath too. It's getting to be about that time of week. He's not looking forward to it, especially at this frigid time of year, but needs are a must. Forget tracking footprints, it won't be long before all you can track him by the way he smells.

     So many things to do and no breakfast to send him off on yet another busy day. Casper sighs. He gets to work stripping the beds of their blankets in this room too. That's two out of three down. He should start moving stuff soon. Still no sign of Balor, so he does the last room while he's waiting. That's three out of three. Now he has nothing to do but move camp. He's been productive this morning. It's been quiet this morning.

     Where the hell is Balor? Casper's got a sinking feeling. A bit of free time to himself was nice at first, but this is crossing over the boundary of nice and into suspicious. He searches the downstairs area. No Balor. He looks again. Still no Balor. Casper scratches his head. The guy could be on the moon as far as he knows. Ugh. Whatever. Balor can show up and get the drop on him whenever he feels like. He'll show up eventually.

     That decided, Casper gets started on the hard part of moving accommodations: moving everything he needs. He grabs an overflowing armful of assorted blankets and pillows and wobbles off, bumping into several walls along the way; the pile's too high for him to see over. Good thing he's already got padding with him. He follows his memory and what little he sees out of his periphery and somehow makes it to the dining room. He dumps his load beside one of the long tables there, pulls out a few chairs, and shoves bedding through the gap into the empty space underneath.

     He grins. Looks good so far. He'll have a cozy, hidden fortress when he's done. A few more deliveries later and the fruits of his efforts start to take shape. The underside of the table is stuffed with heaps of bedspreads. He's starting to arrange layer upon layer of quilts and pillows to make what will amount to his mattress. This is going to be the comfiest bed in the history of forever. He does a preliminary lie down for quality control. The results: he could sleep here anytime. It's perfect.

     Casper begrudgingly gets up. He's exhausted from all that running around. His cozy new bed sucks him into a mire of fluff. Oh, how he longs for a nap. He'll pick up the bits and pieces he dropped on his way to and fro from the dining room, then he'll see what he can do about catching forty winks.

     He crawls out from under the table and stretches the kinks out of his back. It's a pain having to be doubled over all the time, but it's not like he's in the habit of going to sleep standing up. He exits the main hall and, guess who he comes face to face with? It's goddamn, Mister Scare-The-Bejesus-Outta-You Balor.

     "Jesus-Fucking-Christ!"

     "Language, Casper."

     "Excuse you, I'm not the one creepin' up on people." Casper stills his beating heart.

     "Did I scare you? You have my apologies."

     Once is a surprise. Twice is coincidence. Three times is bad luck. Four times means he's doing it on purpose. Casper eyes him warily. "How the hell do you do that anyways?"

     "I beg your pardon?"

     "I mean the sneaky thing. Whatever you do, wherever you go, you don't make a sound when you do it, which is weird." Casper jumps on the spot, making the floorboards beneath him creak. "See what I mean?"

     "I... do not understand what you are referring to." Balor's giving him a worried look.

     For the love of... "I'm not mad, alright? I'm not."

     "That does not reassure me Casper, nor does it explain the presence of... pillows in places they should not be." Balor gestures to the hall behind him. There are no less than two pillows and a small quilt laying about.

     "Uhh... Pillow fight?"

     Balor is not amused.

     "I was just about to clean it up, okay?"

     "I should hope so. And Casper? Do I want to know where the rest of the bedspreads have gone?"

     "I, uh..." Unless he wants to give away his new hidey hole, Casper's got nothing to say. He shrugs.

     Balor is very unamused. He shakes his head and sighs. "Very well. Your problems are your own. Take care that Myr has no reason to seek you out and I shall ask no further." He nods at the mess in the hall. "Clean up and meet me behind the house when you are done."

     Casper gives him a salute. "Yessir." He and Balor have a staring contest, each waiting for the other to make the first move. "Dontcha got stuff to do?"

     "I could say the same for yourself. Do you take issue with my being here, Casper?"

      And people call him a cheeky, little so-and-so. "Now that you mention it, yeah, I do."

     Balor glares at him and Casper freezes all over. Shit. He took it too far, didn't he? "And why is that? " Balor draws the question out, pulls it taut as a noose.

     Casper can't dodge this one. He swallows and licks his lips. (Shit. He's telling again.) Come on. You gotta think of something. Flattery? Pity? What would work on Balor? Nothing in Casper's bag of tricks seems to fit the bill. "I... uh." He tuts. "This's gonna sound stupid, but I really, really don't like bein' watched." He's right; it does sound stupid. Of all the things he could've said, why couldn't he make something up? For shame.

     Balor impassively takes in him and his blush. Casper shoves his hands in his pockets and makes a point of avoiding eye contact (stop staring goddammit).

      Balor sighs. "Very well. You have ten minutes."

     A few moments of silence, then the sound of the back door opening and closing. When Casper looks up, Balor is gone.

     Huh. That actually worked. Casper stares dumbly at the back door. He thought he'd be sunk for that particular screw up (one of many today). Apparently telling the truth works sometimes. He wanders over to the nearest pillow. He picks it up.

     It wasn't the whole truth by any stretch of the imagination, but what he said was true nonetheless. He picks up the next pillow.

     It's not often that he's honest. It makes him feel all... weird inside. He can't really explain it better than that. He picks up the quilt, checks the side hall for anything left behind (nothing there), and throws it all under the table. He pushes in the chairs and it's like nothing ever happened.

     He still feels weird.