Chapter Text
Apollo shuddered as the cold rain seeped deeper into his clothes. He pulled the wool coat on his frame tighter and tighter, his only source of warmth beginning to fail him. It felt like he’d been walking for hours. I must’ve been, now, he thought to himself. It was still light out when it began raining…
Apollo looked up at the twilit sky above his head, mapping the stars in his mind. He squinted his eyes as drops of rain threatened to fall into them, and looked back down at the ground, blinking rapidly.
His boots sank into the muddy ground, and he murmured as he tore his feet from the soil. One foot after the other, he made his way through the underbrush.
“ Oh, there's a town past that clearing,” he said to himself, mocking the words of a local. “ You’ll find a town in no time, honest… Now look at me. If I don’t find cover soon, i’ll freeze out here.”
The forest was much deeper and thicker than he thought it would be, but it looked like it was beginning to thin, which was a good sign. Apollo chose these moments to be optimistic. He grabbed a handful of dying ferns and shoved them out of his way.
Looking up from the ground, Apollo saw an expanse of plains, and no houses in sight.
A frustrated growl rose from his throat. “Come ON!” He shouted at the sky. “Are you just trying to fuck me over now, God? Is this entertaining?!”
As if he were trying to prove his slipping sanity, Apollo stood and kept looking at the sky, like he was waiting for an response. A drop of rain fell in his eye
“Agh! Ow, ow, oww…” He looked down, rubbing his irritated eye, and blinking a few times to ease the pain. Well, theres my answer.
If he left the grove, he’d be getting exceedingly more rainfall, and the frigid cold wind of the storm wasn’t going to help him stay warm. However, the trees left little shelter, as they were beginning to thin with late autumn fast approaching. On top of this, they already looked half dead.
Apollo looked around. Everything in this area looked about half dead, really. If it weren’t raining, the grass would be as dry as bone, and the trees on the outskirts of the grove were stripped of leaves, gnarled, ugly branches reaching up to the atmosphere.
Weighing his options, Apollo decided to be optimistic yet again, and continue on. He felt the rain hitting harder as soon as he left his cover, now that he was fully exposed to the storm’s wrath. Only a few steps outside of the forest, a gust of wind stopped Apollo in his tracks. Apollo persisted.
He kept walking mindlessly, looking at the ground and tugging his red wool coat tighter over his body. He drew his bag closer to his body, hugging it to his chest. The contents were no doubt soaked, and possibly ruined. And still, Apollo persisted.
He felt his body shaking with the cold, and with weakness. His empty stomach wasn’t helping his energy levels, and he felt like he may collapse. If he didn’t find shelter soon, he may die out here. The thought froze him more than the rain did.
I’ll take anything you give me, he said in silent prayer. Really, anything. Give me something.
A flash of light made Apollo jump, and it was followed quickly by thunder, sharper than steel. The storm was worsening. Apollo looked around for any shelter he could see, whether it be cavern or cave.
To his luck, he saw a house farther ahead, and his heart jumped with joy in his chest. With new vigor, he began sprinting for the cover of the house’s cozy looking awning. It was oddly shaped, like a square with a cylindrical observatory jutting out at the top. Apollo prayed harder: that the owner was kind, or that it was at least abandoned and rat-free.
As Apollo approached, however, he realized he misjudged two things: The distance, which was much longer than it seemed, and the size of the house, which was much… much… much larger. His sprint slowed down into a stumbling walk, and then a fearful linger, until he finally came to a stop about 15 yards away from the house.
It was a mansion. It was probably almost safe to call it a castle, really. It was made of dark wood and darker brick, with stained glass windows that reflected a warm, flickering light from inside the main room. It felt so medieval. Apollo swallowed nervously as he gazed up at the building.
The observatory, he thought, was more like a wide spire that ran up the side of the building. It towered above him, looming over his shivering frame. He bowed his head in submission at the grand awe of the large building. The light in the main room meant there was a fire inside, so it was warm and lit… but someone was inside, and Apollo wasn’t sure if he wanted to clash with someone who owned such a giant, daunting home.
Lightning struck the earth barely half a mile from the house, and the crack of thunder that followed was like a loud bullwhip. Apollo came to his senses as the sound shook him to his core. The light silhouetted the building, only making it look more scary.
Apollo knew, however, that the building wouldn’t kill him. The real killer was the rain; As he stood in place, it was seeping through his clothes, through his wool jacket, and it was freezing his limbs. His figners felt numb, and his eyes felt heavy. He knew that if he felt asleep out here, he would never wake up. So he took his chances, and approached the mansion at a modest pace.
He was relieved to no longer feel the rain as he stepped onto the porch. Water and mud pooled at his feet, soaking into the old dark oak planks. They squeaked as he crept towards the door, and eyed the intricate brass knocker. It was carved with great attention to detail, and seemed to resemble a hawk’s head, with two swords crossing it’s throat.
Apollo swallowed his fear as he cutiously reached out for the knocker. He lifted it slightly, and flinched as the old metal squeaked. He lifted it higher, earning another quiet squeak, and brought it down with great force to produce two hollow knocks. They echoed within the house.
There was no reply.
Apollo waited for a few moments before trying again. He raised the handle, and knocked three times.
He flinched as he saw a figure moving inside. Moments later, the light through the window died. Apollo groaned. His clothes hung heavy on his body with all of the rain they absorbed. He had to get in there.
“Uh, h-hello?” he called. The door was thick, and he wasn’t sure whether he could even be heard from inside. “It’s raining. I… I need a place to stay. It’s too cold to sleep out here!”
There was no reply.
Apollo rested his hand against the door. “I just need to stay the night and dry off! I’ll be gone by morning!”
There was no reply.
Apollo felt the panic rising in his blood. “Oh, please, please! If i sleep outside, i’ll freeze to death! I won’t bother you, y-you won’t even know i’m-”
The door creaked open, and Apollo fliched back. The voice that followed the squeaking hinges was a hushed whisper. “Wer bist du? Was machst du draußen bei diesem Wetter?”
Apollo grit his teeth. He hated laguage barriers. “U-uh… um… No… No deustch sprechen. Uh…. englisch? ” he winced at how he butchered the phrase. The door remained open for a few moments, then it was shut with a terse slam.
Apollo stared at the door in shock. He clutched the wool coat on his body tighter. Was he being ignored? The lights inside flickered back to life, and the shadow of a figure passed on the window, towards the door.
Apollo felt elated as he heard the sound of a sliding lock being opened, and stood back as the door opened wider.
He had to look up at the man in the door, as he was significantly taller than Apollo. His skin was tan, and his platinum blonde hair was held up in a messy night-time bun. What caught Apollo’s attention the most were his eyes, sharp but welcoming, like blue fire.
His smile was less ‘amiable’ and more ‘smug’, however. He looked Apollo up and down, making Apollo feel awkward under his watchful gaze. When he finally settled on staring at Apollo’s face, he spoke the first english Apollo had heard tonight.
“Well, you don’t look great.”
Apollo huffed in frustration. “Yeah, you think?”
The man leaned back. “Woah, now, you were just asking so nicely for me to let you in. Don’t ruin it now.”
Apollo winced, becoming painfully aware of the sharp cold overtaking his body. He felt just slightly warmer already with the door open like this. He needed to get inside. “Alright,” he said sheepishly, “Sorry for snapping… it’s been a rough night.”
The man shrugged. “It’s alright. Why don’t you come in? Stay on the rug, though; this carpet is woven, and if you get mud on it, it’ll never get out.”
Apollo bit his tongue. Thanks for the charity, he thought to himself. He stood on the rug, dragging his feet weakly as the man stood back to let him through.
The man rolled up his sleeve, and held out his arm. “Your coat?” Apollo gripped his coat tightly, so much so that water seeped out of the fabric with the squeezing, but he eventually took it off. “You have to give it back.”
“Oh, and what a shame,” he said. “It’s such nice looking wool… Must keep it’s wearer warm, even when… damp.” Despite making a show of loving the coat, he winced as he examined the wet wool. He walked away with the red coat hanging from his arm, and Apollo felt almost naked without it, and much colder despite being inside.
Apollo stayed on the rug as he was told, taking in the home. It was massive, and the main source of light was a fireplace, accompanied by a small lantern next to the window. That must have been what the man had turned off.
The man returned soon, taking big strides into the room with a towel in his hand. “Here,” he said, extending the towel draped over his arm to Apollo. “Stand there and dry yourself off. Take your boots off, and leave them by the rug. Don’t sit on anything until we’ve got you in dry clothes.”
Apollo took the towel and wrapped it around his shoulders. That’s a little better, he thought. He toed off his boots, leaving him in surprisingly almost dry socks. Small mercies.
He stepped off of the rug, and looked up at his host. Apollo jumped once he realized the man had moved to the entrance of the hall shooting off of the main room as Apollo took off his shoes. He moved so quietly, Apollo had barely noticed it.
“Follow me,” he said. Apollo nodded, taking after the man down the hall. “Um, I never caught your name.”
“Klavier,” he said, tossing his hand with a bit of flair. “And since you are my guest, I’d like to hear your name as well.” he turned back to look at Apollo, smiling smugly.
“Apollo Justice,” he said. Klavier turned back ahead and laughed as he came to a door at the end of the hall. “What a name. Are you some kind of performer?”
“No, just a traveler. My dad was a performer, though.”
Klavier opened the door. “Well, it wouldn’t surprise me. Your voice outside was quite… impressive. No sound gets through that door.” Apollo felt stupid for the pride he felt at that statement.
They walked into a smaller room with a washing machine and dryer. Apollo honestly didn’t expect to see electrical appliances here. “Why is your main room only lit by fire right now?”
“Don’t you know?” Klavier said, looking at Apollo quizzically. “There’s a blackout. Even then, it’s so late that i’d usually just have a candle lit to do some before bed reading.”
“O-oh,” Apollo stuttered, “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“It’s alright, you were dying, or whatever.” Klavier turned to a rack of clothing on hangers, leafing through the cloth. Apollo turned to spy his wool coat hung up by a closed window.
“Ah, my coat,” he mumbled. Klavier nodded. “Yes, that coat. Wool is a blessing to be wearing when it’s raining like it is now, if you want to be warm… but it’s a curse to dry. I rung it out before hanging it up, but it probably won’t be dry enough to wear again until sunset tomorrow.”
Apollo shrugged. “I’d hate for you to keep me that long. I don’t mean to be a bother.”
“Oh, no, don’t be silly! I’m always happy to have guests over.” Klavier leaned back as he grabbed two hangers from the rack. Silk scarlet pajama pants and a white, button-up night shirt. He held them out to Apollo. “The room on the left is the bathroom. Get changed, and i’ll take you to the guest room.”
Apollo looked at the clothes on the hangers, and felt a pang of guilt at having to wear such expensive clothes. Still, he did what Klavier told him to, exiting the laundry room and heading to the next room on the left.
It was a marble-tile bathroom with stunning white porcelain… well, everything, even the faucets had a porcelain exterior. There was a cabinet mirror above the sink and a cabinet above the toilet. The mirror was full of bottles of medicine, and the cabinet above the toilet was packed with bottles of beauty products.
From hair to skin, lotions to perfume to creams to salt rubs to dyes, the cabinet was fully stocked with mousse, gel, aftershave, and all kinds of things that exfoliate and enhance one’s complexion. Apollo chuckled. It was… pretty obvious this guy liked things to look good.
Apollo began to strip down, making sure to really dry himself off before he put on Klavier’s nice, expensive looking pajamas. Once he had on clean clothes, he squatted down and reached into his bag to see what was still salvageable.
Turns out, most of it -- He thanked his past self for reinforcing the bag with another few outer layers of tough felt. He pulled out a few things to examine more carefully, but once he was done making sure everything was safe, he put it back in the bag.
Then, a thought crossed his mind. He reached back into the bag and pulled out a few things, stuffing them into his pockets. He exited the bathroom and head back into the laundry room. Klavier was now absent, so he placed his wet clothes in the empty washing machine, and placed his bag on top.
He returned to the living room, where Klavier sat on a couch, reading a book. He tapped his fingers on the cover, and slipped a bookmark into the pages, shutting the book softly. He set the book down on the table by the chair, and turned to Apollo. “Apollo, glad to see you’ve finally finished changing.”
Apollo nodded. “Yeah, sorry it took so long. My bag got soaked too, it’s on the washing machine. There’s some money in it, and a map, but pretty much nothing else. Not even much money.” he stuck his hand into his pants pocket and pressed his thumb against the contents he hid inside.
Klavier nodded. “Okay, i’ll see what I can do for your bag in the morning. Come, the guest room is in the tower.”
Apollo followed Klavier through the home, and up a flight of spiraling stairs. They hadn’t gotten all the way up yet before Klavier stopped at the next highest door. He pushed the door open, leading Apollo inside.
Apollo marveled at the bed in front of him. It was a queen sized bed, and the comforters look thick and fluffy, and so warm. It made Apollo realize just how thoroughly exhausted he was.
“This room is the guest room. Just so you don’t go nosing around the spire: The next room up is my study, and it’s off limits.”
“Any reason why?” Apollo asked as he approached the bed, turning back to look at Klavier.
“I’ve got very expensive things up there that could break easily if they were accidentally knocked over or handles incorrectly.” Klavier squinted and looked away sheepishly. “Even i’ve done it before, and i’m quite careful.”
Apollo sat down on the bed, and felt the mattress sink very slightly beneath his weight. Oh my God, it’s like a cloud. It’s got the perfect balance of sink and support. I could live in this bed. “Understandable.”
Klavier nodded, looking eager to continue and forget that embarrassing subject. “The next floor up is my room, and if you need anything in the night, just come knock. Above that is the attic. You…”
Klavier pressed his lips into a thin line. “That’s off limits.” His voice sounded uncharacteristically stern. Apollo squinted. Klavier must have noticed his suspicion, as he waved his hand, and returned a smug smile to his face. “It’s so dusty up there, you’ll die sneezing. No other real reasons, but i’d rather you not go when it needs so much cleaning.”
Apollo’s bracelet gripped his wrist tightly. Klavier was lying about something. Apollo felt uneasy, but it was outweighed by the feeling of exhaustion creeping into his body. “Okay,” he said, “Come to your room if I need you, and the other two rooms are off limits.”
Klavier smiled politely. “Correct. Goodnight, Herr Justice.” He turned to the door, and left the room. Apollo stared at the spot Klavier left empty. After a moment, whatever thoughts lingered were forgotten, and Apollo decided to leaned down into the bed, and sink into a comfortable sleep.
The booming thunder faded away, and the sound of rain lulled Apollo into a dreamless sleep.