Chapter Text
James picks up the dusty, silver coins off of the table. He sets them in a jar with a label that had 'Money' written on it in barely legible handwriting. He pulls a beer stein off the rack on the wall and pours some bubbling, yellow liquid into the cup, sliding it over to the customer sitting on the other side of the table.
James knows his routine well by now, his small hands moving quickly with familiarity. The scent of beer, and the chatter of the inn. It's how the inn is every single day.
Along the table of the inn sits many people, some old, some young. All of them waiting for a drink. Spiker and Sponge aren't patient women and James knows that, so he works quickly to get the drinks to every customer.
Same routine, day after day.
James lives at the Spiker and Sponge Inn, owned by, well, Spiker and Sponge. They're are James' aunts, and he's been living here for as long as he can remember. According to Spiker and Sponge, he has to work for them in order to live with them. And so, he does.
As the sun falls and the customers start to trickle away, Spiker and Sponge come back into the inn after a 'spa day'. James notes to himself that it's been their third 'spa day' in a row.
"Ah, the smell of money and beer!" Spiker exclaimed. She's wearing a fur coat that's far too big on her, making her look a little bit like Cruella de Vil. "How much money did I make today, you wretched little child?"
James picks up a towel and soaks it in water, scrubbing the table. "70 peaches, Auntie." he replied. "And an extra 15 peaches from tips." He made sure the wood was smooth and shiny before heading over to the money jar and handing it to Sponge.
"Ooh, goodie!" Sponge said, her chubby fingers running along the jar lid. "But not enough! No dinner for you tonight!"
James held back an argument, knowing it would only lead to harsher consequences if he spoke, and gave Sponge a silent nod. "Yes Auntie,"
"Wonderful!" Spiker cackled. "Now, go be a good kiddo and grab some water from the well, hm?" She examined her long, thin fingers wrapped in a pair of leather gloves.
”Yes Auntie,” James mumbled, heading over to the door and grabbing his jacket, which was far too large for him. He pulled it on, opening the door and heading out into the snowy storm.
James trudged through the snow, feeling the snow seep into his shoes and socks. He squinted through the wind whipping in the air, barely seeing the silhouette of the woods in front of him. He started walking, stumbling over roots on occasion.
In the darkness, James finds, and trips over, the water bucket. He picked himself up and grabbed the steel handle of the bucket. It was burning cold against his fingers, numbing his fingers. He reached out, feeling the rough bricks of the well in front of him.
James carefully squatted down beside the well, blindly searching for the rope next to the well, squinting until his eyes could see through the darkness. He took the rope, expertly tying it around the bucket’s handle and lowering the bucket into the well.
He kept on lowering the rope until he heard a faint splash coming from inside the well. James took the rope into both hands and pulled the basket up. The bucket was a lot heavier with all the water in it, and James stumbled a little when he hauled it out of the well.
James held the bucket to his chest and began to walk through the woods, careful not to spill any water, until he heard the snap of a twig from behind him. He spun around, a bit of water tilting out of his bucket and onto the snow, turning it into mush.
He looked around rather frantically, spotting a tall silhouette slowly approaching him. The person, if it was a person, was rather tall and lean, with sharp, glowing green eyes that radiated warmth and also mysteriousness.
"My sincere apologies, child," The tall figure said. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's a place I could rest for the night?"
James stumbled over his words for a moment before silently nodding. "Yes sir, I do. Uh- follow me please." He warily eyed the man before starting to walk again, back to the inn.
The man moves to walk beside James, towering over him. As they get closer to the inn, the faint lights illuminate the man's face. He seems old, yet young at the same time. He had a ruffled white shirt with a red, smooth jacket. He wore long, black pants that widened towards the lower area of his leg where shiny, black shoes sat upon his feet. The man was adjusting a pair of white, fingerless gloves, with a black top hat perched upon his head. Truly, he was a curious figure. James felt a bit intimidated to be in his presence.
James adjusted the bucket to his left hand when they got to the inn, carefully pushing the door open and holding it for the man, watching as he walked in before following.
"Aunties! We have a visitor!" He called, stumbling to the front of the inn. James went onto his toes and set the bucket down onto the counter, watching as Spiker and Sponge shot out of their seats and scrambled to greet the man.
The man took off his top hat, revealing a crop of black hair. “M’ladies,” he said, bowing deeply. “Could you be so gracious as to let me rest at this inn for the night?”
"Of course!" Sponge said, batting her eyelashes before Spiker elbowed her in the stomach. "Ack- but it'll cost you, of course! We won't just let you stay here for free!"
The man pulls out 360 peaches from his jacket, handing them to Sponge. “Will that be enough?” He asked, straightening his top hat before smiling politely at Sponge, albeit forced.
Sponge takes the money, a trickle of drool dripping down the side of her mouth at the sight of it, and gave the man a nod. “Yes, this seems to be just enough! We’ll have your room ready in a moment! Child, go and get the man his room, hm?” She said is like a command, and James inwardly sighs.
”Yes Auntie…” he mumbled, heading to the second floor of the inn with the man following behind him. He opened a door labeled ‘Guest Room’, holding it open for the man before entering.
The room was relatively clean, but there was a scent of dust in the air, and James picked up a cloth. The man settled himself into a chair, watching silently as James scrubbed the place before he spoke. “Do you like stories?”
James perked up, pausing in his cleaning. “Yes sir, I do.”
The man smiled. “Then how about I tell you a story? A very important one.”