My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Coming back home, stuffed to the brim with melted butter and maple syrup, and with Adalia by my side, I didn't think there could have been a better homecoming - until Ash's lovely smile came and greeted us in all its radiance with just a swing of the front door.

After being out in the snow all day, basking and reveling in a Christmas that never seemed to end, Ash's presence - her grace and her demure, beholding that signature bow of hers that never fails to send my heart a-flutter - was like feeling the humid breeze in a tropical oasis set amid a winter paradise.

Then there was also Mr. Black yowling his welcomes, the cozy comfort of the thermostat blasting the cold off of my body, and just the general feeling of being back home - only a rare few things could beat out such bliss, and coincidentally enough, two of the few can also be found living under the same roof as me.

How convenient that was, right?

Unsurprisingly enough, the first chance she found to do so, Adalia lunged for my neck with itching fangs - sipping on her sleeping juice with the faintest trace of chocolate milkshake still lingering in her deep contentful sigh right after.

She was fast asleep a minute later, without uttering a single word and only briefly nuzzling herself on me as her goodbye-good-night. Must have been really feeling the fatigue if she couldn't even muster the energy to hop in the bathtub with me.

"I've wrongly anticipated your return much earlier," Ash said, closing the front door with a faint click. "But I surmise, Master, that I am not wrong in presuming that yesterday's affairs did not come to an end with the arrival of dawn, did it?"

"Took a detour, had something to eat first on the way," I explained, gently sliding Adalia's bow loose to better her slumber, setting it aside on the table in front of the couch. "She didn't want the fun to be over just yet."

"Of course, she would not want it to," She said, emerging into the living space, staring back with her soft, green gaze. "Neither would I."

If only I had an extra pair of stretchy arms, I would have just reached out and given her the world's tightest, most loving hug that's ever been given in the history of hugs.

Strolling us by on the couch on her way to resume her daily morning routine, Ash took one glance at the state of my clothes, spotting every shredded line and exposed bit of skin, and with her lips narrowing to an almost knowing yet vaguer smile, quietly offered to patch every tear while coyly tugging at a small in my collar.

Honestly, I really wasn't up to the prospect of having Ash stitch up these particular kinds of wear and tear - especially considering what made them in the first place - but it turns out she wasn't asking.

"If you would, please hurry and refresh yourself at once, Master," She requested, and it was then I noticed as well she was wearing the very same set of clothes I'd loaned her long ago. My jacket, my jeans, still fitting her slender figure to utter perfection with slight hints of her more recent patchworks entwined with the old and weary seams. "I wish to tend to them at my earliest convenience. I will make them an utmost priority."

"No, just - when you find the time, Ash," I whispered back, a slumbering Adalia stirring slightly atop my lap. "They're not really important, not like I'm gonna need them anytime soon."

"And you speak as if you've brought upon me a burden to bear," She replied, having walked and stopped just a short way away from the kitchen, where a set of utensils and ingredients were laid out on the counter, and she turned, wearing a sorta mildly exasperated look that was betrayed by a small simper pulling at her lips. "Tell me, Master, would you really abstain me from the utter pleasure of serving you?"

I carried a warm and fuzzy feeling with me when I went and clock into work on that very same bright and chilly afternoon day - and I have to stress that I did so begrudgingly, knowing of the great sacrifices I have made in the namesake of peak customer satisfaction.

Like, do you know what kind of willpower it took to willingly detach myself from such a place of wholesomeness? Especially with Ash being so especially endearing after being a whole day apart, what kind of heartless, unfeeling sociopath would one have to be to not want to stay home forever?

But no - society beckons. Obligations call, and I must dutifully answer. Such is the trite and true way of man living in the 21st century. And so with a heavy heart and a wearier mind, I rounded myself behind the counter of cakes, creams and coffee, and relieved the morning soldiers from the battlefield so that I may continue fighting in the front lines in their stead.

Thankfully, Christmas day must have equally worn out most of the opposing forces as well. Chairs were mostly vacant, the machines didn't require any refills, and only about twenty minutes into the shift did I finally get my first actual customer of the day. It truly was all quiet on the western front.

My phone buzzed a few times over and only when I was certain that no one was looking, I straightened myself all inconspicuous-like and took a peek.

<<Filming starts again tomorrow!>> read the message. <<An Elidna has been found. So has our Elf. Know you're busy. Talk more later. I'd love to hear all about your Christmas yesterday~ Love you. <3>>

As always, there's Amanda bolting in only to leave and also leave me reeling every time she just pops up into the picture. New actors already? And so soon? What kind of goody-two-shoes shit did the director do for Santa to put him so high on the good-boy list?

Guess I'll find out soon enough.

Managed to send back a message of my own right before one of the leftover patrons from the morning could come on by to pay his bill only to find me slacking.

And with a ding of till, and well-wishes goodbye, I was officially flying solo from here on out.

So with nothing else better to do than to wait for sundown to dismiss me, I just started experimenting with different brews, going all avant-garde with the recipes in hopes of stumbling upon the perfect drink, all the while the faint chime of the entrance continued only to remain in my imagination which did fool me occasionally.

A short while later, I heard a solid thump, and five different cups rattled simultaneously atop their saucers and I knew I wasn't imagining it. I turned behind me, and suddenly the doorway to the backroom was now nearly occupied with the bulky, hulking shape of Sergeant General Nick.

"Hey," He boomed drearily, finally reciprocating the hello-wave I gave to him like a full hour ago now. "How was your Christmas?"

Any chance of this of him actually being a cordial manager went down the drain the moment he cut me off before I could even take in a breath to reply.

"Hayley told me our dad gave you a present to give to her, is that right?"

"She… Hayley told you that?" I tiptoed up, flinging my gaze around his broad shoulders trying to peek into the back. "Was she in there? I didn't see her."

"No," Nick grunted. "Where is it?"

"With me. I'm supposed to - "

"Give it," He extended his hand - continued to demand. "All this is none of your business."

I wanted to disagree, but it was hard to refute what he said without also risking incriminating myself to what I know of his father, and how I know him. Besides, he was right. What ground did I have to stand on to nose myself into his familiar affairs?

Still though…

"I don't know, Nick," I said, throwing an uneasy shrug. "Your dad seemed pretty clear when he told me the gift should end up in her hands only."

"I'm his son."

"Yeah, well," I shrugged again. "You're not his daughter."

"Don't argue," He said, his voice booming a little more. "I apologize on his behalf for roping you in, but like I said, this isn't your business. Just give it, let me deal with it and you tell me if he tries this again. I told him already he shouldn't have bothered."

"Alright, say I let you have it - then what? What are you intending on doing with it?"

"He doesn't want to listen to me, doesn't want to give up on it. He wants to make an effort, then fine. I'll help him make that effort. I'll make Hayley take the gift whether she wants to or not."

Throwing the gift into a landfill or incinerating it in the fiery pits of Tartarus would probably have been a less incredulous answer than what just went ringing loud and sonorous in my eardrums.

"You're… going to give it to her anyway?"

Nick just nodded, extending his arm a little further.

"Despite Hayley not wanting anything to do with it?"

"You really love your questions, don't you?" Nick sighed loudly with a rasp.

"Yes, and bear with me a bit more, 'cause - well - you were the one who told me your dad had an affair."

He made a noise affirming, while also resonating a patience wearing rapidly thin.

"And I know you said he said he didn't do it, and you believe him, but - "

"He lied, yes. I know he did. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"You said you believed him."

"I believe him," Nick nodded. "Doesn't mean I don't believe him."

"Okay, make that make sense."

"No," for the third time, Nick flailed his arm in the air, swinging with enough force to turn coal into diamond. "If I have to ask you again, you're getting written up."

"Just tell me this one thing first, Nick," I quickly pleaded in earnest, half-pulling the small present from my pocket as a show of goodwill. "Why? Why help him? Why still love him at all? He lied, he broke your family apart? I know it's not any of my business - but I'm in too deep now, and you can't blame me for asking so, tell me - why hasn't he broken your trust?"

Nick seemed to consider me for a moment with a slight narrowing squint in his eyes. Though his stone-faced expression never changed, his disposition certainly did. Suddenly, for a towering giant, he almost looked to have shrunk by three inches.

"My mother and I aren't close. Never were," He began speedily and indifferently. "Hayley was her favorite and she was never subtle about it. To her, I was her son only in relation - nothing more. It was not as if she was cruel to me or anything. No, she just didn't care all that much about me is all."

I listened attentively, doing my best to hang onto every single word that he made only all the more difficult by speaking in such a low mumble.

"Hayley cares. Dad does too. But whenever it's just my mother and I, nothing seems to click between us. Then dad cheated, they divorced, and my relationship with my mother took an even deeper dive. She won't talk to me, she barely even looks at me anymore. Sometimes when she thinks I'm not aware, I'd catch her looking at me like I'm an intruder in the house. I'm guessing it's because every time and every day I'm looking more and more like my old man. Ceremonies, graduations, she'd never show her face either. But do you want to guess who still does though?"

"Every year, every day, every time, I needed someone to be there for me - my dad would be. Not my mom, she could really care less about me. But not dad. Not him. Even if he did cheat, even if he was despicable… he never stopped being there for me. Meanwhile, every chance my mother could, she would brag about Hayle to her friends, and what a blessing it is to have her as a daughter while also having to strain a smile struggling to even tack on me as an afterthought."

Once again, I wasn't ready to have to hear such low, sour notes leaving somber echoes to bounce around my head. Nick was never one for chatter, and I probably heard more from him in these few minutes than I ever will for the rest of my lifetime.

"So between the two of them, you tell me... who would you rather cling onto - the father who made an irreversible mistake?" He blinked, staring with those eyes that no longer cared, that no longer felt. "Or the mother that thinks you are one?"

For the final time, Nick limply raised his hand toward me - and without speaking, or even thinking, I handed him the present and as well as my voiceless answer.

Then from somewhere, faint, distant, might as well have been in the depths of imagination, I heard the distinct chime of bells ringing.

"Smile," Nick told me, before quickly disappearing into the darkness of the back room with the gift in tow. "You got a customer waiting."