Bedroom Hijinks

Dawn broke, and pale light slipped through the shutters of Oreon's room. Sapphire eyes slowly fluttered open, adjusting to the glow. For a moment, she lay there, confused—then awareness returned: the warmth beside her and the steady breathing that was not her own.

She tilted her head up slightly—and froze. "Oh." Her cheek was nearly pressed to Oreon's shoulder, her body having drifted toward him during the night. One hand rested lightly on his chest, rising and falling with every breath.

Heat flooded her face. "I… When did I…?" she whispered, alarmed by the position she had woken in. "Oh, by the light…" She carefully lifted her head, trying not to wake him, but a strand of pale-blonde hair slipped across his face. Celestia froze as he stirred, her heart pounding. Moving with deliberate care, she eased herself free and stood beside the bed. Then her gaze fell on her sister, caught in an equally compromising position.

Sylvanie sprawled across Oreon's other side, her violet hair spilling over the pillow like a dark waterfall. One leg draped over his, while an arm lay carelessly across his torso, as if claiming him. Her face nestled in the crook of his neck.

"Of course…" Celestia murmured, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Of course she would." A faint smirk touched her lips. She was relieved no one had caught her in the same position, but seeing her sister like this was oddly refreshing—and perfect teasing material for later.

With that thought, she crossed to the window and parted the curtain just enough to look outside. The small town rested peacefully in the early morning light as its residents began their daily routines.

Behind her, Sylvanie and Oreon stirred awake. They stared at each other for a few confused seconds before glancing down at their awkward position: Sylvanie's leg draped over his as she lay curled against him. An awkward silence followed for a few seconds until—

"HOW DARE YOU MAKE INDECENT MOVES ON ME IN MY SLEEP, HUMAN!" Sylvanie cried theatrically, rolling on top of Oreon and squeezing his throat.

Oreon's eyes widened as Sylvanie clamped her hands around his neck, his face turning bright red. "I—didn't—do—anything, you crazy elf!" he gasped, flailing as he tried to pry her fingers loose.

"Liar!" Sylvanie hissed, though there was a telltale flush creeping up her neck that betrayed her embarrassment. "You clearly took advantage of my vulnerable state!"

"Took advantage!" Oreon gasped. "Gah!—You were the one who told me to get in the bed in the first place—Gah! I was trying to sleep on the window cushion!"

Celestia's soft giggle left her lips as she watched the absurd scene, carefully hiding that she had woken in much the same position. "Perhaps we should arrange separate beds in the future," she suggested, amusement glinting in her eyes. "Though I must admit, you both looked quite peaceful a moment ago."

Sylvanie's gaze snapped to her sister, and her grip loosened enough for Oreon to gasp. "Peaceful?" she repeated indignantly. "Sister, I was… I was obviously under a spell—one cast by this human! Why else would I ever…"

"I can't use spells, remember. I'm a magicless human, who you used like some kind of body pillow—Gah." Oreon managed a faint smirk before Sylvanie tightened her grip on his throat.

"I rather thought she looked like a cat finding its favorite spot," Celestia said, placing her hand slightly over her mouth to hide her smile.

"A cat!" Sylvanie quickly pointed an accusatory finger at her sister. "Don't you dare compare me to some household feline, Celestia! And you..." She directed her gaze back to Oreon. "I was merely conserving energy. Don't mistake necessity for comfort, human." She declared her words to Oreon.

Oreon struggled theatrically in her grip, giving Sylvanie a plainly skeptical look. "Your 'conservation of energy' means holding on to me like an oversized stuffed bear," He retorted. "And I'm fairly certain princesses aren't supposed to snore like dwarven miners after a night of heavy drinking."

Outrage filled Sylvanie's eyes as she increased her grip on Oreon.

"I do NOT snore!" she hissed, her dignity wounded. "Tell him, sister! Tell this insufferable human that I sleep with the grace of a summer breeze!"

Celestia finally broke into a soft, melodic laugh that filled the room. "Well..." She began carefully. "I wouldn't say it was quite like a dwarven miner, but..." She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully. "Perhaps more like...a small dragon purring in his sleep?"

"CELESTIA!" Sylvaine shrieked, her face now matching the crimson of her eyes. Her grip on Oreon's throat loosened a bit as she whipped around to face her sister. "You're supposed to be on MY side!"

Oreon took advantage of the momentary distraction, sucking in a desperate lungful of air. "A dragon... That's perfect. You snore just like a—Gah!" Sylvanie's grip tightened again.

"Silence, human." Sylvanie glanced back at him. "You probably put my leg there while I was defenseless in my sleep. Who knows what kind of impure thoughts run through that human mind of yours." She returned, turning her attention to him.

Oreon's face reddened, though whether from indignation or lack of air was unclear. "Impure thoughts?! You're the one who—Gah! Too strong! Too Strong!" he rasped. "Okay, okay… I give! —I give!" He tapped out, and Sylvanie finally let him go. Even so, she remained seated on top of him, leaning back upright.

Triumph and embarrassment mingled on Sylvanie's face as she folded her arms and stared down at Oreon. "Good, at least you know when you're beaten." She declared, though the position she'd assumed—straddling his waist while sitting upright—seemed to have escaped her notice entirely.

"Yes, since clearly I was the aggressor here," he muttered sarcastically. "Apparently, I orchestrated the whole situation while completely unconscious," he retorted, his voice still raspy from being choked. "My sincerest apologies, Your Royal Highness, for my unconscious limbs having the audacity to exist in your vicinity," He continued with mock formality. "Next time, I will tie myself to the bedpost to prevent such grievous offenses."

Sylvanie narrowed her eyes at him. "You'd enjoy that far too much, human." She smirked dangerously, then rolled off him and stretched like a satisfied cat.

"You should be grateful I don't turn you into a toad or something," she hissed, though the threat held no real menace. "Humans have no sense of personal space."

"First of all, you're an elf, not a witch," Oreon responded.

Sylvanie's eyes flashed dangerously as she spun back toward him. "I'll have you know dark elves are perfectly capable of transformation curses." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "Don't. Test. Me, human."

Celestia moved between them, placing a calming hand on her sister's shoulder. "Perhaps we should focus on more pressing matters than who slept where. Besides, we are guests here, after all, and I believe I smell breakfast." She said diplomatically, changing the subject. "And after yesterday's fiasco, I suspect we could all use the nourishment."

"Fine," The dark elf conceded, shooting one last warning glance at Oreon. "But he walks in front of me from now on."

Oreon pushed himself up from the bed, rubbing his throat with an exaggerated wince. "Walk in front of you? So, you can stab me in the back the moment I say something you don't like?" He shot back. "Nah, I think I'll take my chances walking beside you, thanks."

"Beside me?" Sylvanie scoffed, flipping her violet hair over her shoulder. "As if I'd allow a human to walk as my equal. You should be grateful I'm not making you crawl."

Oreon looked over at Celestia. "How do you deal with this?" Oreon pointed at Sylvanie.

Celestia's expression softened, a knowing smile forming on her features. "Years of practice," she said with a gentle sigh. "And a great deal of patience." Despite the exasperation in her tone, she gave her sister an affectionate glance. "Sylvanie has always been...spirited. Even as children. She would challenge our tutors, question our mother's decisions, and—"

"I was keeping you from becoming a doormat," Sylvanie interjected, crossing her arms defensively. "Someone had to make sure you didn't shower everyone with your 'mercy,'" she air-quoted.

"Right? And I'm sure you being so direct all the time made life a hell of a lot easier." Oreon added, heading towards the door.

"Watch it, human," Sylvanie responded, stretching once more. "Don't think I won't kill you just because I haven't yet," she added as she headed for the door as well.

"Aww, and after I was such a good boy pillow for you to," Oreon remarked, causing Celestia to giggle once again.

Sylvanie returned to an embarrassing shade of red as she whirled on him, her hand shooting out to grab his collar. "You--!" She sputtered, words failing her for a moment. "I swear by the gods, human, if you ever mention that again—"

"What? That you drool a little too?" Oreon added with a grin, clearly enjoying pressing her buttons.

"I did NOT drool!" Sylvanie shrieked, her grip tightening on his collar as she yanked him closer. "Take it back right now or I'll..."

Celestia stepped forward and gently placed her hand on her sister's arm. "Sylvanie...perhaps we should save the violence for after breakfast?" She suggested. "Besides, we need to figure out what we're going to do from this point forward, so please spare the nice human. Would you?"

Though her glare persisted, Sylvanie's grip on him lessened somewhat. "Nice human?" She repeated incredulously, releasing Oreon's collar with a small shove. "Sister, you're far too generous with your compliments." She huffed, smoothing down her disheveled clothing. "But fine...I suppose I can postpone his inevitable demise until after we've eaten."

Oreon stumbled back, adjusting his collar as a smirk tugged at his lips. "Your restraint is truly admirable, Your Highness." He said dryly. "I'll try not to die of shock from such unexpected mercy."

"Keep talking, and I'll change my mind," Sylvanie warned as Celestia opened the door, gesturing for them to follow.

"Come now, both of you. That's more than enough for one morning." She spoke as she glanced over at Oreon. "And Oreon...Please don't provoke Sylvanie at the table. I would like to enjoy a peaceful meal." Celestia added.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Oreon replied innocently.

The trio headed downstairs, where morning light streamed through the curtains Meara had opened. The scent of fresh breakfast filled the room as she prepared a full meal, showing no sign of the previous night's ordeal. Unaware of what had happened, Lena set the table until she glanced up and saw them descending.

"Well, it's about time you got up," Lena said, smiling as her eyes landed on Oreon, then glanced over at the two elves. "I hope he didn't keep you guys up last night." She added, setting a plate down on the table.

Sylvanie's lips curled into a wicked smile as she descended the last few steps. "Oh, he kept us very occupied," She purred, her tone deliberately suggestive. "Wouldn't leave us alone for even a moment."

Celestia's face immediately flushed a delicate pink. "Sylvanie!" She hissed under her breath, shooting her sister a warning look that went completely ignored.

"Occupied? What do you—" Lena was about to ask, but then her face went red as she turned her head to Oreon. "What...Did...You...Do?" She questioned him dangerously.

Oreon's eyes widened in panic as he held up both hands defensively. "Nothing! I didn't do anything!" He protested, his voice cracking slightly as he pointed to Sylvanie. "I swear on my life—She's lying!"

"Hmm, is that so?" Sylvanie continued, examining her nails with feigned disinterest. "Because I distinctly remember waking up with your body pressed against mine..." She stopped there, leaving the sentence to hang in the air on purpose.

"You were the one who--!" Oreon started, then caught himself, realizing how that sounded. "Wait, no, that's not- it's not what it sounds like!"

Lena's eyes narrowed dangerously, her grip tightening on the plate she was holding. "Oreon..." Her voice had dropped to a low, threatening tone. "You have exactly three seconds to explain before I--"

"I hope everyone behaved themselves under my roof." Meara stepped out from the kitchen, rubbing her hands on her apron. Meara's eyes swept over the group, assessing them for a moment. "Though, judging by the noise I heard this morning..." She paused, raising an eyebrow at Sylvanie. "I suspect 'behaving' might be a generous term."

She closed her eyes briefly. "However, now is not the time for games. I need you all to sit and eat; you're going to need it for the days to come."

Hearing the seriousness in Meara's voice, the group exchanged uneasy glances. She returned to the kitchen, then came back and set a full platter of food on the table.

The group gathered around the table as the earlier playfulness faded into a somber mood. Oreon pulled out a chair, Celestia sat gracefully beside him, and Sylvanie took the seat opposite them, never taking her eyes off Meara.

Lena lingered near the table, her earlier expression giving way to concern. "Grandmother, that was a bit ominous. What's going on? Did something happen?" Lena asked.

"Yeah, Meara, what gives?" Oreon added.

Meara placed the final dish on the table: steaming herbed porridge, fresh bread, cured meats, and preserved fruit. Rather than sit, she remained at the head of the table, hands gripping the back of her chair as she studied each of them in turn.

"Eat first," she said firmly. "I won't have this conversation on an empty stomach."

The group exchanged uncertain glances. Oreon looked back at Meara and nodded, but before he could lift his utensil, the door burst inward with a deafening crack, scattering splinters across the floor. Grog stumbled in first, his massive frame heaving. His usually arrogant face was pale and slick with sweat. Four of his lackeys rushed in behind him, tripping over one another in their desperation.

"Close it! Close the damn door!" Grog barked, his voice cracking.

A wiry man with a patchy beard slammed the broken door shut and braced his back against it, as if he alone could stop whatever was chasing them.

Oreon shot to his feet on instinct, his chair scraping loudly across the wooden floor. "What the hell, Grog?!" He shouted. "You can't just—"

"You've got some nerve showing your face here after that show you put on yesterday." Sylvanie rose next, and the others quickly followed.

Grog's wild gaze swept the room, barely registering Sylvanie's words. Still gasping for breath, he braced one hand on his knee and the other against the wooden floor.

"Shut up! Just—Shut up, all of you!" He gasped out. "It's the Order! They're here! And Silas...They got Silas!" Grog screamed.