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When Vanitas had eagerly demanded what Noé thought of the Beast of Gévaudan he hadn’t anticipated a couple of things: that Noé would completely change the subject and ask for his blood, how bitterly, bitterly cold the journey to Gévaudan would actually be, and that they would need to find room and board in the middle of it rather than trek all the way there in one go.
He glowered at the nondescript lodging before them. It was a simple log cabin--albeit larger than he was used to seeing--surrounded by myriad pine trees and juniper bushes. There was a kerosene lantern flickering idly by the door on the raised porch. Everyone in the little town had insisted it was the only place to stay, which was the only reason they were here. Apparently, hardly anyone came this way. Vanitas believed it; who would willingly subject themselves to this kind of weather?
Apparently, he would.
He huddled close to Noé, hoping some of his heat would drift over to him. He wasn’t having much luck in that regard so far but it was better than remaining near Dante or Johann who seemed to find everything oh-so-amusing. They had already entered the lodging (Vanitas had mixed feelings on this) but Noé had insisted they explore the cabin’s surroundings first. Against his better judgment, Vanitas obliged and stuck around; he’d placed his portmanteau on the porch so he wouldn’t have to lug it around to boot. He knew the moment he took his eyes off of Noé he would disappear and who knew when he’d finally return after that. It was far easier to indulge his curiosity and get it over with as swiftly as possible.
Vanitas supposed that, in fairness, the land here was intriguing in its sheer expanse. There was a stable in the distance and a rollicking stream nearby. There was a dirt road leading away back to the village when they were ready to depart surrounded by winter pansies intermixed with a few rose bushes still clinging to life; their blooms may have been wilted due to the weather but they maintained a bit of color and fragrance all the same. Sunset was just creeping up on them, empowering shadows to creep further across the earth. If it had been any other time of year Vanitas might have acknowledged it was rather picturesque.
“Traveling really is wonderful,” Noé said eagerly as they strolled about the perimeter. “Look, they have a bench over there near the stream.” Vanitas let out a quiet “hmm” of acknowledgment. “Take a look at that! I wonder what kind of bird it is? I think I saw them in Auveroigne. You know," he said thoughtfully, "Paris doesn't have much by way of birds."
"One of the effects of industrialization," Vanitas said.
"But the air is still so clean thanks to astermite. I wonder..."
"There are just too many people."
"Yes, I suppose that's true," Noé acknowledged. "Well, let's take a look at what's down this path, shall we?"
Vanitas stayed close to him as they meandered down the dirt road. He could hear crickets somewhere in the thicket. Noé listened to it with a content smile on his face.
"It reminds me of being home," he said fondly. "Someday, I'll have to show it to you."
"Really?" Vanitas said in surprise. He wasn't sure what he thought of walking right into The Shapeless One's den but he had to admit he was curious what he might find there. Noé had grown up there as well and maybe seeing where he spent his youth would explain how he ended up so naive about some things and so insightful on others.
"I don't see why not. I wonder what their rooms are like," he said suddenly. "Vanitas? What do you think?”
“Provided they have a fireplace I don’t much care,” Vanitas grumbled, pulling his coat about himself even more tightly.
To his right he saw the bushes tremble, indicative of some creature scurrying about. Murr stared transfixed at the sight. No doubt it was a squirrel; if Murr chased after it Noé would chase after Murr and then Vanitas would really have his hands full.
“All right, you’ve had your fun. Now let’s get inside before nightfall,” Vanitas said, gently pushing Noé toward the cabin.
“Hm? Oh, good point…”
When they finally got inside Dante and Johann were conversing by a roaring fire in the lounge. There were several animal trophies on the wall; their glassy eyes seemed to follow him as he moved. Vanitas had always found those things unnerving. Their gaze was as empty as a prisoner's who'd given up on everything.
Dante gave him a brief wave from where he was seated; Vanitas scowled in response. He still hadn’t figured out what they were even doing here. Dhampirs dealt in information, which implied they were looking for something they could sell. It left him feeling uneasy; what if Dante hadn’t told him something pertaining to the case? The outcome could be grievous if so.
It was Noé who finally ushered them along to the front desk. The man—Vanitas supposed he was the owner—appeared stern with his arms crossed and his brow arched.
“We would like a room with two beds,” Noé said.
“Hm,” the man said. “So did they. I’m afraid they got the last one.” He spoke in the most unenthused monotone Vanitas had ever heard.
It took a moment for that to sink in. When it did Vanitas shot a poisonous glare over at Dante who had the gall to shrug his shoulders unapologetically.
“Do you have anything at all?” Noé said, a note of concern creeping into his voice.
“I have one room remaining with one bed.” He looked utterly unconcerned at what he’d just said.
“Wait a moment,” Vanitas said bitingly. “This is a fairly large establishment. Are you really telling me you only have two rooms?”
“There are others but they’re for staff. Not a lot of people come here.”
“How droll,” Vanitas muttered. Yet another thing to add to the growing list of things he hadn’t expected when he’d set out to Gévaudan.
“We’ll take the remaining room in that case,” Noé said easily. He passed over the correct sum and was promptly handed a key along with instructions on where the room would be. Noé gazed upon it with an excitement indicative of a much greater treasure than they’d been given.
“So,” Dante began as they wandered over. He wore a smug grin that implied he was far too satisfied with himself. “Got a room sorted out?”
“Yes,” Vanitas said with a false smile. “The strangest thing happened though; someone beat us to the better room, Baldy. Don’t suppose you’d have any intel on that?”
“Can’t say that I do. What a shame.”
“Indeed.” Vanitas considered, briefly, just letting the whole thing go. Unacceptable. He might not be able to do anything right now but he would find some way of inconveniencing him later.
Johann tittered quietly in the corner as the two measured each other up. Dante was starting to look a little nervous at Vanitas's false grin. Good. He wondered how angry Noé would be if he attempted to murder both of them here and now. He had his head tilted consideringly, reading the situation with a small frown on his face.
“It’s getting late,” Noé finally said.
“Are you going to get anything to eat?” Dante replied, looking a little more earnest with him than he had with Vanitas mere moments earlier.
“Hm, I don’t think they’re serving right now and I’m tired from our travels. Good night,” he said and he proceeded to the staircase leading up to their temporary abode. Vanitas followed behind him in resignation. He didn’t want to deal with Dante right now anyway.
When they reached the next floor Noé was immediately distracted by the paintings lining the wall. They were standard fare as far as Vanitas could tell but Noé looked utterly enchanted.
Vanitas gripped him by the arm and dragged him off to their newfound room. He'd already had his time to take in the sights. Noé followed without complaint, his eyes roving over the paintings as they passed. Murr followed in their wake, glaring as usual; he’d leapt off Noé’s shoulder the second they’d reached the top.
The room itself proved to be quaint enough with rich, mahogany furniture and more paintings of the landscape outside. There was a large, unlit fireplace,--of course it was unlit--the hearth was free of ashes, and above that was a large moose trophy.
“Lovely,” Vanitas said with an annoyed sigh. He pointedly ignored the large, singular bed in the center of the room. Noé had no such compunctions. He immediately strolled over, followed by Murr, and pressed down on the plush duvet. It was a bright, cream color, intermixed with dark embroidery.
“It’s quite soft!” he said in awe.
“Didn’t you grow up surrounded by finery?” Vanitas sighed, shutting the door behind him with a nudge of his foot. “What is so amazing about a soft blanket?”
“Soft blankets are always a marvel,” Noé said seriously. “There was a time I didn’t even have that…” he trailed off, distracted by the ornate clock on the wall above the bed.
Vanitas’s stomach lurched at the reminder that, at one point, Noé had been a slave. It was the kind of knowledge that didn’t sit well with him partly because he didn’t know what to do with the knowledge and partly because it was simply wrong. The thought of him suffering through anything even slightly reminiscent of what he’d been through was unconscionable.
Furthermore, Noé didn’t act as though he’d ever been a slave. He certainly wasn’t subservient in any way and he didn’t have any of the skills Vanitas assumed slaves would have such as cooking or cleaning. No, in many ways Noé was very much an aristocrat albeit a strangely humble, unassuming one.
“Does it really bother you?” Noé said suddenly. He was busy opening all the drawers of one of the stands by the bed. Vanitas wasn’t sure what he was looking for.
“Hm?”
“Sharing a bed that is,” Noé continued, looking disappointed at the emptiness in the drawers and took a seat on the bed. “It sounded like you were upset with Dante for taking the other room.”
Vanitas looked away guiltily. He wasn’t sure why he felt bad but there was something in Noé’s tone that left him feeling unsure.
“I suppose not,” he said gruffly. “It’s just not something I’m used to.”
“You don’t seem to sleep very often, it’s true,” Noé mused, crossing his legs where he sat. He wore an assessing look once more.
“That’s … not what I meant,” Vanitas sighed.
“I know,” Noé said softly. “But you really should get more rest. If you like, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Vanitas said in annoyance. “Between the two of us, who has slept in stranger places? If it weren’t so cold I’d probably take the roof.”
“Then… you want to sleep on the floor?” Noé said in disbelief.
“Definitely not,” Vanitas said vehemently. “We’ll just share it like we’re supposed to. That’s all.”
“All right,” Noé said in agreement but he looked uncertain. “In that case, I am quite tired and I think I’ll retire. You can join whenever you like.”
“Right,” Vanitas said, feeling overwhelmed all over again. He respectfully turned away as Noé got into his pajamas. Vanitas didn’t bother with them; he usually just undressed to his undershirt and trousers and called it good and he saw no reason to change his habit tonight. However, it was so cold the thought of taking anything off at all was unappealing at best.
Working slowly he unwound the scarf, took a moment to adjust to the change in temperature, and then continued with the rest of his garments. He placed his daggers on the end table and his portmanteau below the bed before finally taking his shoes off last. He studied the folded articles of clothes and the coat he’d hung nearby. He felt too light and he shivered slightly; part of him wanted to hastily dress all over again and head for the roof despite the absurdity of the notion.
He left his gloves on despite how impractical they were for sleeping. He disliked the sensation of cool air on his mark more than anything; it still tingled with lingering power, especially when exposed to the elements.
He heard the bed creek as Noé got in and then a shuffle as the blankets were adjusted.
Vanitas steeled himself and immediately felt ridiculous; he was hardly going into battle. This was nothing compared to healing vampires. He turned to face him. He felt strangely relieved at how normal Noé appeared. He’d seen him sleeping across from him in their shared room many times. Perhaps this wasn’t as daunting as he’d made it out to be.
“Noé?” he said softly. “Don’t steal all the blankets.”
He turned on his side to face him wearing a petulant expression. “I would never do something like that!”
“Maybe not on purpose,” Vanitas huffed. Now that he’d accepted they would, in fact, be sharing the bed he was overwhelmingly concerned with how much Noé moved around in his sleep. He did not relish the thought of waking to Noé tumbling out of bed, bringing all the blankets with him, leaving him in the freezing cold all over again.
Finally, he edged under the covers himself. Noé was studying him intently.
“What?” he said testily.
“Nothing. I just don’t know if I’ve ever seen you like this. You’re not even wearing your vest.”
“…What about it?”
“Vanitas,” Noé said seriously. “You’re terribly thin. Are you eating enough?”
“Am I—huh?”
Noé burst out laughing suddenly. “I was just suddenly struck with the thought that that is why you wear so many layers to begin with. You're like a cat puffing itself up!”
Vanitas slowly turned red as Noé continued to laugh merrily. He wanted to say something snappy in return but Noé finally mastered himself once more and gave him a look of such sincere fondness he was brought to a jarring stop.
“You just seem different is all,” Noé continued. “It’s nice though. It’s like I’m seeing a new side to you.”
Only Noé would think it would be appropriate to say something like that in a position like this. His guilelessness was incredible.
Vanitas lied down tentatively. Noé pulled the covers up to Vanitas’s chin earning a quizzical look. He just shrugged in response. Despite how awkward the situation should be he felt almost … relaxed.
“You seem different in your nightgown as well,” Vanitas finally said.
“Really?” Noé looked down at himself as if he would see the difference for himself. Murr slunk up near the headboard; Vanitas shooed him away.
“Yes.” Vanitas couldn’t think of anything else to say. Noé always looked good, he could grudgingly admit that to himself, but there was something about the billowing nightgown that looked especially good. He’d idly wondered once that, if he was forced to choose, would he pick the soft, earnest version of Noé who delighted in the simple things or the one who could carry him with ease and hold his own against chasseur and vampire alike.
He supposed it was lucky he didn’t have to.
They both lied there in silence for a moment, lost in their own meandering thoughts, before Noé said, “I’m really happy, you know.”
Vanitas stared at him uncertainly. “Whatever for?”
“We’re traveling, taking in new sights, and we’re going to help some poor soul who needs us. Furthermore, it’s been so long since I’ve done this,” Noé said.
“Done this?”
Noé turned on his side, propping his head up with one hand. “This. Sharing a bed. I used to do it with Louis and Domi when I was a child. We would share secrets and discuss the day. It was wonderful.”
“Oh,” Vanitas said, unsure of what else Noé was looking for. Was there something Noé wanted to discuss? Was he supposed to ask?
Luckily, he wasn’t left to muddle through it for long because Noé took the initiative.
“I’m glad you didn’t leave me behind on the train,” he said without preamble. “I was truly worried you would leave me after our argument.”
Vanitas shifted uncomfortably. The thought had certainly crossed his mind. He didn’t want to deal with Noé lusting after his blood even if he seemed to be exercising some restraint.
“Yes, well, you’re persistent,” Vanitas said, “and useful to have around.” And when I realized you weren’t going to force the issue I remembered why I like you to begin with.
Noé smiled indulgently. “Even so, I’m glad.”
“I’m … glad you stuck around as well,” Vanitas finally said after going through several possible responses.
“Oh,” Noé said, so softly Vanitas almost didn’t hear it. “I wasn’t sure…”
Vanitas felt a pang of guilt; Noé was far too honest with his feelings. Best to change the subject rather than mull over the tangled mess of his own.
“Noé,” he began.
“Hm?” He was beginning to sound a little lethargic.
“I was wondering, do you really think it would be tasty?” It had been driving him mad ever since he’d said it and while it had been cleared up who Noé was referring to he still couldn’t help but wonder.
Noé’s brow scrunched up momentarily, confused, before he realized what he meant. He snorted softly. “No, I wouldn’t want to eat that; it would be weird. I doubt it would smell as nice as you anyway. Er, that is, never mind…”
There was an awkward silence as they both tried to figure out how that little faux pas should be handled.
“I suppose I should be glad I rate a little higher on the scale than a werewolf,” Vanitas eventually said with a smirk.
“I’ve never seen a werewolf,” Noé said thoughtfully. “I wonder what it’s like…”
“It’s likely not a real werewolf,” Vanitas said. “It’s just a vampire.”
“A vampire turning into a wolf. Doesn’t that qualify as one?”
“I don’t know,” Vanitas admitted. “I hadn’t given it much thought.”
“Vanitas,” Noé said softly after a momentary hush. “I’m tired.”
“Then go to sleep,” Vanitas said, equally softly though he couldn’t explain why.
His eyes slipped closed suddenly and Noé was lost to the realm of dreams. Almost immediately he rolled over and clutched at Vanitas tightly, wrapping his arms about his waist, using his shoulder as a pillow.
I suspected this would happen, Vanitas thought resignedly as he held his arms up and away from him, unsure of what he was supposed to do. His misgivings about being a hug-pillow aside, he could admit that Noé was infinitely warmer than the room was and that was a boon where there’d been little before. He desperately hoped Dante wouldn’t come barging in as he so often did back at Hotel Chou Chou. He really didn’t want to deal with the teasing over this.
“You really do sleep like a log,” Vanitas said quietly. Normally he’d push him away but it was quite chilly still. Murr let out a soft meow from where he’d settled on a chair in the corner of the room.
He debated the merits of waking him up and telling him to move over but ultimately letting him stay right where he was won out. Noé would need his rest for when they faced the Beast and, if Vanitas was completely honest, waking Noé would up would likely just lead to some kind of back-and-forth about sharing a bed that would last far longer than either of them had time for.
Hesitantly, Vanitas brought his arms about him; he could feel his breath skimming over his sternum in steady puffs.
Idly, he took to playing with Noé’s hair as he considered what they might find once they got to Gévaudan. He’d only had time to do cursory research on the place and he was relying on Dante’s intel quite a bit….
He hoped he wouldn’t have cause to regret that.
He spent most of the night considering the mission until he, too, finally fell under the Sandman’s sway.
When he woke up he found they were still in the exact same position more or less, which took him by surprise. Noé usually moved about a great deal more. He took a brief moment to study his face. He looked utterly tranquil. It was so different compared to the vaguely unnerved furrow he so often wore on his brow before waking up. Vanitas traced his brow gently with gloved hands, a million thoughts racing through his mind at once.
Ultimately, he was forced to admit it was a puzzle for another time. For now, they needed to continue on to Gévaudan without pause.
“Noé," he said with more gentleness than he'd thought himself capable of. "Time to go.”