Thirteen — How Do You Assign the Rooms?

“Can you please put me down?” Lilith asked, her voice a small rain hitting stone.

Nidhogg had her tucked under an arm, like a book clamped under a wing.

The Little White Dragon had only eaten too much and felt lazy, not lame; being toted like freight scraped her pride.

Plus, this grip let certain curves speak; Lilith’s chest was a flat plain, while Nidhogg carried two proper hills.

Even without looking, Lilith felt those soft slopes press her ribs, like clouds leaning on a ridge.

Lilith was thin‑skinned; one more touch and she’d turn into a steamed tomato fresh off the pot.

“We’re heading to the room now; see, Litt doesn’t mind.” Nidhogg kept her hold, voice steady like dark water.

In her other hand, Litt aimed a bright grin and let out a small howl, like a spark popping.

“See?” Nidhogg chuckled, a bell in fog. “Litt has no complaints, so bear with it.”

“They’re a child; don’t lump them with me,” Lilith said, words sharp as ice.

Yet her body stayed obedient, still as a rabbit fearing a loose grip would drop her.

“Alright, alright, back to the room.” Nidhogg soothed her, a palm over ripples, and carried her inside.

They entered a second‑floor room near the stairs, like a nest tucked by a branch.

“This one’s close to the stairs. Easier up and down. Let’s live here,” she said, tone warm as charcoal.

“Mm.” Lilith had no preference; any den would do, and she only wanted the ground under her feet.

Abaddon stood at the door and never came in; she moved next door like a breeze changing lanes.

“I’ll sleep in the room beside,” she said, slightly archaic, like an old bell. “I’ll turn in now. See you in the morning.”

“See you tomorrow, sis!” Litt beamed, vigor fluttering like a small flame that wouldn’t die.

“Mm, see you,” Abaddon answered, a yawn wide as the moon; she waved to Litt and closed her door with a soft click.

“Is it okay to let her sleep alone?” Lilith worried, a small drum in her chest. “She’s ten. Someone should watch her.”

“Don’t fret. This isn’t a normal inn,” Nidhogg said, calm as stone. “Treat it like a friend’s home.”

“Outside looks shabby, but nowhere in Lamter beats this place for safety,” she added, a hand like a seal.

“Mio may seem woozy, but she’s strong as old pine.”

“Really?” Lilith doubted, a cloud snagged on a peak, yet Nidhogg’s certainty was noon sun.

“She’s still a ten‑year‑old girl. Won’t she fear sleeping alone?” Lilith pressed, concern flaring like dry grass.

“You, caring turns to chaos,” Nidhogg said, and tapped Lilith’s head like knuckles on a gourd.

“Many ten‑year‑olds sleep solo.” Lilith winced with a soft ouch, eyes lifting to glare like damp stars.

“Fine. You make sense.” She remembered the little Demon, Abaddon, alone for years in pocket space, like a bird under a sealed sky.

No way she’d still fear sleeping alone now; Lilith let the thought drift and settled.

“And you? When are you leaving? I’ll shower and sleep,” Lilith asked, fatigue pooling like ink. “It’s late. Go crash in your room.”

“Me? I’m staying here,” Nidhogg said, puzzled, sitting on one bed like a cat claiming a patch of sun.

She patted the mattress, steady as a drum. “See? It’s a double.”

“You and Litt will share a bed; Abaddon’s next door; this one left is mine.”

“Huh? Go find your own room,” Lilith said, disbelief flaring like sparks.

She lifted a leg to kick Nidhogg, but Nidhogg slid aside like shadow, and caught Lilith’s slender calf.

Nidhogg gave the soft calf a firm pinch, like a crab testing shell.

“Eek!” Lilith yanked her leg back, arms folding around herself like a startled quail.

She retreated to the bed’s edge, trembling a little, eyes icy. “W‑what are you doing?”

“Nothing. You tried to kick me; can’t I grab a handful back?” Nidhogg said, as righteous as a judge.

“Are you done? Then get out. I want to sleep alone!” Lilith refused to keep arguing, fear buzzing like bees.

Her body was tender as new porcelain; if Nidhogg’s hands started roaming, the Little White Dragon wouldn’t endure it.

“I’m done, but I’m not leaving,” Nidhogg said, planted like a tree.

“It’s just sharing a room. Why the big fuss?”

“Soon you won’t travel alone. Often, several squeeze into rooms smaller than this. You need to adapt,” she continued, tone like a coach’s whistle.

“Fine, fine, you’re always right,” Lilith sighed, surrender a white flag in her chest.

She accepted tonight’s fate: sharing a bed with someone under the same roof.

The Little White Dragon sprang up, wind under her feet, and dug through her luggage like a squirrel in leaves.

She pulled out pajamas, gathered her light silk dress, and slipped into the bathroom like a fish into water.

She fled inside and slammed the door with a bang, like a drum cut short.

After a moment, half a head popped out, red as an apple, and she bared teeth at Nidhogg.

“I’m taking a shower. Watch over Litt,” she said, words snapping like chopsticks.

Lilith ducked back, then thought she wasn’t done; she popped out again, eyes sharp as knives.

“And don’t you come in while I’m bathing, or you’ll be the first to taste the Ancient Ark’s blade!”

“Got it,” Nidhogg said, laughter held like a bird in a fist.

Once Lilith’s head vanished, the laugh flew free, a silver stream in the room.

On the other bed, Litt giggled too, bubbles ringing like a bell.

They didn’t even know why the black‑haired big sister laughed.

They just wanted to laugh along, a small flame licking at the dark.