It was getting on in the night-time, and most people were beginning to turn in for the evening; outside of their windows, the night was blue-black and the faint clouds that had lingered through the day were pale smoky ghosts against the darkness. Upstairs of one particular inn, there were still the sounds of talking, and of animals, and of small-ish, young-ish sounds of irritation.
"No, this is where I'm going to stay!"
"Hmph... You know, yelling is hardly becoming of a lady."
"I don't care about your... your arbitrary labels!"
And then, a voice that was patient but fraying at the ends, as a young man with blond hair tucked up under a wrap stepped between the two small figures, like animate dolls. Hands out in placation, Riordan was doing his best to ignore the wet spot rapidly forming on his bed, pointedly not noticing the blue-white cloud raining on the sheets.
"There now, there now... Why raise your voices so late in the night?"
"Master Riordan!" started one, silver hair rippling like a curtain, while the other one sniffed and tapped her stylish little cane on the floor impatiently. "Well, I don't understand," she began, "why I shouldn't correct such unladylike behav--"
"All right, all right," soothed Riordan, unconsciously taking on the tones of his mother, when in childhood he and his brother would give her trouble. "You can both sleep in here tonight, and we'll sort this out in the morning. All right?"
The two Rozen exchanged glances, neither looking happy with it; but, at last, they subsided. The blonde doll pouted in, it had to be admitted, a somewhat childish manner, and the silver-haired doll took another step towards Riordan and clung to the sleeve of his pants.
Mentally sighing, Riordan set a reassuring hand atop Suigintou's silver hair, urging her with a smile to the miniature bed that was already made. Suigintou nodded, a small smile on her porcelain features, and she moved away.
"Here now, Shinku," said Riordan, turning to the blonde. "Let's make you some place to sleep, hm?"
A half-hour later, Riordan had finally managed to fashion a bed that Shinku pronounced acceptable, and as she snuggled into the bedclothes Riordan said "All right, now; good night, Shinku."
A rose-colored serpent was coiled around a tiny tree, and a winged feline was curled up on the window-sill with a fox-like canine, both green if in different shades. Their alicorn was stabled as comfortably as Riordan could have arranged, and Kai-Ten was curled up, wet and comfortable, in the bath.
Riordan turned to Eissien, who proceeded to float slowly away, leaving Riordan staring at the dark mark left on the wine-colored bedclothes. Riordan now allowed himself that sigh, and resigned himself to changing the sheets before he finally got to search for sleep himself.
Of course, as these things so often go, after Riordan had re-made the bed he actually had no desire to sleep in it. Having caught his second wind (or maybe the fourth; it had been a busy day), Riordan found himself restless, and the room - while certainly friendly and cozy - seemed a bit too still to the wanderer. He'd so often fall asleep to the creaking shudder of wagon-wood that now the sturdy bedroom simply seemed... stifling.
So, as he did when all of his beloved charges were asleep, Riordan slipped carefully from the room on padded boots and made his way down the staircase. The downstairs was neat and tidy, cleaned up and put away after the day's business, and well-banked embers smoldered quietly to themselves in the brick fireplace. Riordan smile faintly to himself and let himself out the kitchen door, certain not to disturb any respectable persons who might be sleeping.
Once outside, Riordan breathed a sigh of relief, the cool night brushing lightly against his skin. He loved his unorthodox little family, truly he did... But sometimes he missed the early days, when he had little more than a pen and paper and the clothes on his back. Those had been tricky days indeed, and there had been many near-brushes with disaster, but he'd always felt as though he could get out of them. Then, he'd felt... free.
'The folly of youth,' laughed Riordan in his head, as his feet tread the cobblestone path that snaked outside the city. Riordan amused himself by following the curves like a child, the stones illuminated by the pure-white starlight overhead, a light which grew in brightness the further he left the city's streetlamps behind him. There was no sound but the wind and his footsteps, and Riordan thought - somewhat sadly - 'I guess I'm settling down despite myself, aren't I?'
Looking up as the stone path came to end, Riordan tilted his head back and let the light-dappled darkness fill his view. He still felt like the child he'd been half a decade ago, so eager to find The World, whatever and wherever it might be. He loved his life now, but he found himself dwelling more and more often on whether or not he might be dissatisfied. And if he was? Well, he could hardly just up and leave one morning. What would happen to the ones he depended on?
Just as he and his brother had once wished on stars from their mansion's balcony, Riordan shut his eyes tightly and threw his arms open to the sky.
"What am I supposed to do?" he cried, far enough away that he wouldn't wake the sleepy, contended town. "I don't want to be ungrateful for my life!
"It's just that..."
"... I want my life to be interesting, that's all!"
Riordan waited for several long moments, seconds which were among the longest of his life, waited for some kind of sign. He only questioned this when he noticed a distinct increase in light, as though some car were approaching with its hi-beams on, and Riordan - with the instinct of the oft-trampled - threw himself to the side. A massive burst of light and dazzle rose like a brilliant mushroom-cloud at where Riordan had been, and it took a few moments of rubbing his sleeve across his eyes for the shadows to fade.
There was a tiny crater in front of Riordan, and from that crater - apparently the source of the impact - was a gently-floating, brightly-glowing, white-hot-burning fallen star.
Riordan smiled.
Some time later he was jogging out to the stables, because he couldn't figure out how to pick up the star without scorching himself, and he couldn't just leave it out there on its own.
