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Chapter Twenty "Why is it that the cleaner the house gets, the dirtier I get?" Jillas lamented to no one in particular as he stood up from scrubbing the kitchen floor, eyeing the wet and matted fur on his arms and knees woefully. With a little sigh, he shook his head and smiled. "At least oneesan will be proud." After he lugged the bucket of dirty water out the back door and dumped it, Jillas decided to go find Gravos and see how he was getting along with dusting the furniture. As he walked into the living room, Jillas started sneezing uncontrollably. In between sneezes and through watering eyes, he looked around and realized that the living room was actually virtually coated in a white film. "Boss!" Jillas shouted in between sneezes and hurried out of the room, sniffling. "What happened to the living room?" An equally white-glazed ogre poked his head out of the shop door, looking confused. "Well, I dusted it..." Jillas blinked, rubbing his watering eyes. "What do you mean, you dusted it?" Gravos held up a container of powder. "I thought it was pretty weird, but you did say to dust the rooms, and so did Filia." Jillas facevaulted. "It means you clean the dust off, not put more on!" "Oh!" Gravos frowned, thinking. "Then why don't you just say undust?" "I don't know, boss." Jillas sneezed again, and sighed. "How many rooms did you dust?" "Only two. I was just about to start on the shop. It took me a while to figure out how to dust." Jillas couldn't help but chuckle. "Come on. Let's get the windows open. Hopefully, we'll get it done before they come back. What other room did you dust?" "Filia's bedroom." Jillas blinked, and hurried down the hall, opening the door and immediately dissolving into a sneezing fit again. With a running nose and watering eyes, Jillas hurried over to the window and got it open. Gravos looked into the bedroom, expression a bit guilty. Jillas tried to grin, but couldn't quite manage it between the sneezes. "Well," choo! "on the" ahchoo! "bright side, the" achooachoochooachoo! ... sniffle. "hou--" owchoo! "--se will be even" ahhh-choo! "more clean a--" ahhhhCHOO! ... snuffle. "after this. ahhhh-hhh-hhh... ...sniffle... ...sniffsniff... ahh...sniffsnuffle... sigh. Jillas gave Gravos a reassuring smile. AHCHOO!! Jillas was being proven right two hours later, as they worked on finishing up cleaning the last of the powder. Blankets, sheets, pillows, cushions, and upholstery rugs were all outside on the line. They had taken turns with the large, wire rug beater, smacking the various items until the air was virtually white with powder. At first, it seemed as though it might all just settle back down onto everything again, but a gusty wind began to breeze into the valley. The wind hadn't let up, and the doors and windows to the house were open, airing out the dust inside. They had finished cleaning Filia's bedroom first, and were now applying the final touches to the living room, and the place seemed to sparkle. Jillas was kneeling down on the hearthstones, scrubbing out the fireplace and the natural red of the bricks was visible again. Gravos was out back, using a wire brush to scrape off the grime from the log rack, and the house was getting a more thorough top-to-bottom cleaning than it had received since sometime before it was even purchased. Although Filia had often given the place a thorough cleaning, Jillas and Gravos were moving heavier furniture that hadn't been budged before, and certainly no one had scrubbed out the fireplace. Perhaps a bit overkill, but they were both determined that Filia didn't find out about the powdered house. Jillas got to his feet and stepped back, admiring his handiwork and enjoying being able to breathe like a normal fox again. His nose was still a bit itchy and swollen, but even that was tapering off, as was the itchy, heavy sensation in his eyes. Sometimes, a keen sense of smell wasn't exactly an advantage. "Done with the fireplace?" Gravos asked, carrying the rack back in. It was clean enough that if it weren't made from cast iron, it might have sparkled. "Yep, boss." Jillas beamed as he surveyed their work. "Oneesan's going to be so impressed!" "See? Dusting really does clean things," Gravos replied, and Jillas chuckled at his smirk. "I'd have to agree." "Think we can stand to bring the blankets in yet? There's rain on the way." "Huh? I haven't smelled any." Jillas paused. "But then, I haven't been smelling very much of anything yet." "It's still up in the hills, you can see the clouds," Gravos replied. Jillas followed him out of the back kitchen door, and looked up over the roofs to the towering cloud formations. "Oh dear, that looks to be a rather bad storm. I hope oneesan and Lord Valgaav don't get caught in it." "Eh, they'll be fine," Gravos replied. "Boss knows how to take care of himself, and Filia too." Jillas caught the pillows as Gravos pulled off the pins until the stack was too high to see over anymore. He tottered into the kitchen, making his way tentatively to the living room, until he collided with the wall. "Door's two feet to your right," Gravos said helpfully, standing behind him with an armload of blankets and rugs. It took another trip to bring everything inside, and then Jillas sorted out what stayed in the living room from what belonged in Filia's bedroom. "Want me to get the laundry water started?" Gravos asked as Jillas gathered up Filia's bedding. Jillas froze, and his ears twitched as his remaining eye widened. "We forgot the laundry!" "Relax, we'll do it now." "Will it be done and dry before the rain hits?" "It might not even blow this way, and if it does, it might already be rained out." "Well, that's true." Jillas beamed. "Okay, get the water ready. I'll put oneesan's things back in her room." After he made the bed up again, Jillas headed out back to check on Gravos. Gravos was pouring the last bucket of near-boiling water into the washtub when Jillas showed up. "Ah, just in time! Got the water and the soap all ready for you, Jillas," Gravos said, pointing to the washtub. Jillas hesitated, shuffling his feet against the ground. "Uh, Gravos? How about you wash and I hang?" "Huh? I'm taller! I'm better at hanging!" Gravos didn't like the direction of this conversation. "I'm furry! Do you have any idea how bad wet fox smells?" Gravos sweatdropped. "I don't wanna do the wash! How did your women manage it?" "Very carefully?"Jillas suggested, then whined and pointed to his arms. "Fur!" Gravos sighed and muttered. "Fine, fine, fine. I'll wash," he groused, grabbing a shirt out of the basket and plunging it into the steaming hot water. "I feel like a woman." "That's more than I needed to know about you, boss," Jillas replied, and wound up with a sodden shirt covering his face. Spluttering, he pulled it off and threw it back to Gravos, who caught it easily with a smirk. He picked up the washboard, putting it in the tub. Fishing the bar of soap out of the water, Gravos held it to the shirt, and rubbed both of them against the metal ribs of the board. Jillas hurried over to the shed to drag out a crate to stand on so he could reach the clothesline, starting to sneeze yet again. Neither of them said very much through the first few articles of clothing, mostly because Jillas was too busy sneezing, and Gravos was trying not to blush as he realized he was handling decidedly female underthings. It had to be one of the most undignified moments of his life. "Hey, boss?" Jillas asked a few minutes later as he clamped some wooden pins over one of Filia's white petticoats, securing it to the line. "Yeah?" "You ever wonder if there's more of your kind out in the world?" Gravos paused in scrubbing, frowning in thought. "Not in a good while. Why?" "Ever want to try to find them?" "Nah." Gravos shook his head. "Even if they are, they're not my family, y'know? It wouldn't be the same. Besides, I'm happy here." Resuming scrubbing, he shrugged. "Don't rock the boat and all that. What about you?" "I know I'm not the only fox out there. I ran into a widow and her kit, cute little thing. Palu." "Oh?" Gravos looked up at him. "When was this?" "Before Lord Valgaav brought Darkstar back." "Think they're okay?" "I don't know. I haven't seen them. I kind of forgot about them for a while, actually. There was just so much going on, with oneesan and finding out Lord Valgaav was still alive." Gravos studied Jillas as he handed over the freshly-rinsed item. "Why not go find them? Talk to boss and Filia, I'd bet they'd let you move them here, to the village at least." "I don't know. I'll think about it. It was a long ways off, and I doubt I could make it there and back again by the first snow." "Well, why not wait till after the spring thaw? That'd give you time to talk it over and figure out what you want to do." "Maybe." "What's the problem?" "Well..." Jillas hesitated, hopping off the crate to retrieve more clothes to hang. "It would feel weird. I mean, we're just us. The only Fox, the only Ogre, the only Ancient, the only Golden. If I brought them here, that wouldn't be the same." "Like I said, Jillas, ya gots till spring thaw at least to figure this out." Jillas made an agreeing sound, as he currently had a mouthful of wooden pins, climbing back up on the crate. "You reckon there's any more Goldens?" Gravos asked after a few minutes. Jillas was quiet, considering that, then shook his head. "If there were more Goldens, then why wouldn't there be more Ancients? Lord Valgaav was pretty insistent on that point, that they were all dead." "Well, ya gotta case there, I guess." "Besides, I don't think oneesan would want anything to do with them even if there were other Goldens out there." "They can't all be like those, I mean, Filia's not," Gravos said. "Yeah, but..." Jillas shook his head. "The head guy was gonna just let that namagomi kill her. Said she was dispensable. That hit her pretty hard, 'cause I figure, she must've looked up to him the way we do with Lord Valgaav." "Ouch..." "Yeah. Ouch." A few minutes later, they were just a little more than halfway through the chore of washing clothes. Gravos decided to change the topic. "What would be good is if you figured out a way do make something that would do this sort of thing for us." Jillas paused, glancing at the washtub, frowning thoughtfully. "Hmm. Yeah. But how to get it to scrub itself?" "Beats me. You're the one with the brains for that kind of figuring," Gravos replied, giving him a faint smirk as he handed over a pair of pants. "It would make things easier come winter, certainly," Jillas said, and fell quiet as he stuck some pins in his mouth, clambering back up on the crate. "Hmm." Good new topic, but not one good for spawning more conversation. Jillas lapsed into a distracted sort of preoccupation, hanging clothes almost automatically. Bored with the repetitive task of washing clothes, Gravos looked up at the sky, squinting against the afternoon light as he checked on the clouds. Far off in the distance, he could see flickers of lightning in the clouds, and he could also make out the unique scent it had, carried down on the wind, mixed in with the humid, earthy odor of fresh rain. The clouds also seemed to be coming over the hill. Hmm. So he'd definitely have to keep an eye on that in case they had to bring in the clothes on short notice. "I GOT IT!" Jillas shouted, loud enough that Gravos jumped. "Argh! What're ya yellin' about?!" "I know how to build it now! Well, I think I do, it might need work, but I know what to do! I do, I do!" Jillas shoved the last pin down on the shirt he was hanging and jumped off the crate, running for the door. "Where are ya goin'?!" Gravos demanded, getting to his feet. Jillas turned around, still heading for the door. "I have to get this down! I know how to design it! I know what to do!" "Do what?" "A device to wash clothes!" Jillas ran inside. Gravos blinked, and looked to the remaining items that still needed washing, and smacked his hand to his forehead. "Ya scatteredbrained fox!" he roared at the door, which still swung on its hinges. "I didn't mean right now!" Jillas didn't reappear. Gravos looked at the freshly-washed towel in his hand and sighed, lumbering over to the line to hang it. "Me an' my big mouth," he groused. It was well into the evening by the time the storm hit the village, and any clothes that weren't yet completely dry were hanging on improvised lines or draped over the backs of chairs near the kitchen fireplace. Jillas had long since abandoned his sketching, and was now pacing from room to room, door to door, wringing his hands worriedly. "Where are they, boss?" he asked for what felt like the hundredth time. "I don't know, Jillas. Probably under shelter somewhere, if I know the boss," Gravos replied yet again. He whined, and jumped slightly at another crash of thunder. "I'm going to go check on the water for oneesan's bath." "Suit yourself," Gravos replied, kicking back and propping his feet up on the table, and added under his breath, "I don't think it's gone anywhere since you checked it five minutes ago." On the fireplace in the kitchen was a pot of water, steaming at just below a boil, and on the countertop was a pot of tea, just waiting for the water to be added. Over in the bathroom's fireplace was another pot of water, although admittedly, it was closer to being a cauldron. Jillas had fashioned a pulley system running from the bathroom window to the pump to allow for faster and easier tub filling. The iron tongue inside the fireplace on which the caldron hung swung out as most of them did, but the cauldron had a handle on the opposite side, and Gravos had hammered out one edge to allow for easier pouring. Several buckets of water could be heated to a boil, and then poured into the water which would already be in the large porcelain tub, making a nice hot bath. A hole had been drilled in the tub's bottom, and Jillas created a tight-fitting stopper to place over it. A corresponding hole had been made in the wall of the house. Gravos had forged a pipe, and that was connected between the two, making emptying the tub a simple matter of wiggling the stopper out of the hole to allow the water to drain outside. At the moment, cold water lay in the tub, awaiting the addition of the boiling water from the cauldron. If the weather outside was any indication, a hot bath would probably be rather welcome by the time they made it home. If they did make it home that night. Gravos wasn't too worried. Valgaav knew how to find shelter, and he just figured they probably would vote to remain there rather than venture back out into the storm. Listening to the rain pounding steadily on the roof and windows, Gravos grinned. Maybe a night off by themselves somewhere was just what those two needed. The sudden ringing of the front door slamming open, striking the wall, caused Gravos to jump and topple over backwards with a startled yell. He quickly clambered to his feet and rushed to the hallway to find Valgaav kicking the door shut. It took Gravos a moment to figure out what was so odd about the situation. Valgaav's wings were back out, and flared around him, crossing in front. "Boss! You okay? Where's Filia?" Gravos asked, stepping back quickly to allow Valgaav into the kitchen. Valgaav merely drew his wings back, answering Gravos' question as he revealed Filia in his arms, clinging to him. "I guess I misjudged how fast the storm was moving," he said wryly. "I thought it would have already passed by here." He carefully lowered Filia to her feet. Gravos noticed she was shivering, staying huddled up against Valgaav for warmth, and the shirt he had been wearing was around her shoulders. "We've got a--" "Oneesan!" Jillas came flying into the kitchen and crashed into the two dragons as he hugged Filia. "I was so worried about you!" Filia opened her eyes, and gave the foxman a small smile as she sluggishly patted his head. "M'okay, Jill's," she murmured, her words slurred as if drunk. "C'mon," Valgaav said. "Let's go get you warmed up." "We got a hot bath ready," Jillas said, managing to say what Gravos had been trying to point out a moment ago. "Great, thanks." Valgaav started to lead Filia from the kitchen, but she stopped. "Go pour it," she said softly, referring to the hot water. "I'll get my robe and things." "You sure?" Filia nodded. "I'm okay, just need to get the chill out." "Want me to bring you some tea?" Jillas asked. "After I'm done." Using the wall for support, Filia shuffled off to her bedroom. "Gravos, can you get some soap and a towel? I'll clean up in here," Valgaav said as he ducked out to go ready Filia's bathwater. "Sure thing, boss." Finally, peace and quiet, if it could even be deemed as such. Valgaav relaxed on the couch, just listening to the sound of the fire crackling and hissing, as if it were engaged in a lively argument with the rain that showed no sign of letting up, pattering and drumming against the house, seeking admittance. Every so often, the thunder rumbled distantly, like a grouchy old man throwing in his own two cents worth to the debate, the sound growing fainter as the worst of the storm moved away. The house was otherwise silent; Filia had turned in shortly after her bath, and Jillas and Gravos had followed suit a half hour previously. She hadn't shown Valgaav any indication as to whether or not she would welcome him in her room, and until she did, he wasn't going to press the issue. Time was insignificant, and the rapid progression felt like a snowball picking up speed into an avalanche. He could still conjure up the memory of the sensations, her lips responding to his own with a timid urgency, the way her body had pressed to his, instinctively seeking out something yet undiscovered. The sheer force of the desire that memory alone was able to create provoked feelings in equal parts of panic and impatience. Annoyed, he rolled over onto his side, staring at the fire. His wings had long since been retracted, and although it was true that they no longer ignited the intense agony that they once did, he hadn't been wholly truthful with Filia that it didn't hurt. It was just virtually nothing in comparison to what it had been. Valgaav had considered just leaving them out for the time being, but it was difficult to get comfortable on the couch. The fire was hypnotic, and he suddenly found himself snapping out of the dazed tranced it had lulled him into, and breathed deeply. The air in the house smelled clean and sweetly humid from the rain, laced with tendrils of woodsmoke, and underscored by the fading tangs of soap and tea. Valgaav forced himself to sit, and rubbed a hand over his face, trying for a clearer head. The day had been so long and stressful that he was beginning to regret turning down his servants' offer of taking over the duties of keeping watch. Valgaav pushed himself to his feet and stretched, flexing his back and arm to work out the stiffness which threatened after his near-miss with the old well. He couldn't help but smirk in dismay as he considered how many times Filia had saved his life since they first met. "I don't deserve her," he murmured under his breath, resting his arm on the mantle as he stared down into the fire. "Why do you say that?" Filia's soft voice caused him to jump and spin to face her. "You're awake? Is everything all right?" Quickly, he crossed the room over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Woke up cold," she answered, and she was still shivering. "Why don't you sleep out here tonight?" he suggested. "I will." She hesitated, then stepped closer, resting her head against his chest. "You can stay." Valgaav blinked, then wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly. "All right." He led her over to the couch, tucking the blanket around her securely before sitting on the floor. Filia lay still on the couch for only a moment before crawling off, dragging the pillows and blankets with her, and snuggled up to him. "So..." she drawled sleepily, sticking her stockinged feet out from under the blankets, her heels resting on the hearthstones as she wriggled her toes, soaking up the heat from the flames, "why do you say that?" Valgaav pulled the blanket a bit to cover himself as well, draping his arm around her shoulders. "Sometimes it just feels as though you're too wonderful to be real," he whispered, nuzzling her hair. "After everything I've done, and I still end up with someone like you..?" "Then you must have done something right along the line somewhere," she replied, moving her head slightly, nuzzling him back. "I can't even begin to think what." "Saving Jillas and Gravos, protecting my reputation, helping me, need I go on?" Valgaav kissed her forehead. "I love you, Filia." "Mmm. I love you too, Valgaav," she replied, stifling a yawn. He withdrew his arm very gently. "Why don't you move back up onto the sofa? You'll be more comfortable." "Nuh-huh." To emphasize her point, she snuggled closer, tightening her arm over his waist. "Filia, I need to get up, or I'll fall asleep." "So?" "I'm on first shift for watch, remember?" "So? I'm right here. What'd happen to me right here?" She was practically on his lap by then. Considering he actually hadn't wanted to get up all that badly to start with, she was providing some rather damning arguments against the idea. Valgaav just gave up with a soft chuckle, although he still pulled away from her. "Give me a minute, then." He stood and helped her to her feet as well, moving her aside while he pulled the cushions off the sofa, putting them on the floor, and set up the pillows. Once he was done, he sat down with his back to the sofa, and held his hand out to Filia. She readily joined him, and he pulled the blankets around them both, holding her securely. "Mmm. I could get used to this," she murmured, nuzzling his chest as she rolled over to face him. "Yeah, that's the general idea." He gently kissed her forehead. "Get some rest." Habit and the chimes of the grandfather clock downstairs were what roused Jillas. He almost drifted back to sleep when it hit him that he was oversleeping. Why hadn't Lord Valgaav woken him for his shift like he always did? With a hundred and one bad scenarios running through his mind, Jillas quickly kicked off his blankets and got to his feet, almost tripping over a bucket they had set up to catch some water dripping through the roof. He almost started hollering for Valgaav, but thought better of it as he instead chose to stealthily sneak down the ladder. If there was something wrong, it would be wiser to try and avoid tipping someone off that he were awake. On the other hand, if Lord Valgaav, as tired as Jillas knew he had been, had merely nodded off, then waking him now would serve no purpose. Well, aside from producing a rather grouchy and irritable dragon. Jillas snuck toward the living room, avoiding the creaking spots in the floor, and peered around the couch. And grinned. Lord Valgaav was sound asleep, and so was oneesan. She was almost hidden under the blankets and his arms, but the gold river of hair spilling over the floor was a rather big clue. No wonder he hadn't been woken up for his shift. Jillas put in even more effort to ensure his silence as he backed out of the room, and quietly padded off to the kitchen. He was awake, he might as well get back to work on the plans for a washing device. |
to be continued...
Chapter Twenty One