A Patchwork Fantasy Tale in eight parts.
Our third visit to Hotel Olympus, during which some mortals come to stay.
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Transcript
[Upbeat, inquisitive music]
Laura: Hi, you can call me Laura. I’m here to tell you a story if you like. This is Patchwork Fairy Tales and today we’re visiting Hotel Olympus. If you want to read as well as listen, check out the transcript linked in the description.
[Music fades]
Hotel Olympus Chapter 3
The past couple weeks had undeniably been the most bewildering in Charlie’s entire life. And, speaking both as a hospitality major and the only child of a fire fighter and an event planner, that was saying something.
It was bad enough that she had to grapple with the concept of Divinity on a regular basis, but there were also altogether too many things about this hotel that were simply unexplained.
Unexplained because the manager would not give her an answer. Like the fact that they had a bridal suite that was completely unused except for two standing reservations on the fall and spring equinox. Or the fact that sometimes, Cassandra would scribble a little “m” next to a reservation (for “mortal”, apparently) and then a completely different person would show up to claim the room than the name in the register.
The last time one of those little m’s had appeared next to the name “Athena” an older couple of startlingly normal looking people had shown up. The woman had done most of the talking, but the man had stopped Charlie to ask her if he was allowed to move the bed out of the room, should his wife request it. She was thankfully spared from giving an actual answer by him laughing the sort of laugh belonging to a particular inside joke, and allowing his wife to drag him upstairs. Previously it had been two young men fondly bickering about, as far as Charlie could make out, whether or not it was acceptable to wear each other’s clothes. And now there was another little “m”, scribbled next to the name “Aphrodite”…
Charlie was still frowning suspiciously at it when the head of housekeeping emerged from the direction of the staircase.
“Ah, Echo,” she said, straightening up behind the counter. “Everything alright?”
“Everything alright,” Echo nodded with a smile.
“Good. Are first floor rooms all done?”
“First floor rooms, all done.”
“Brilliant,” Charlie smiled. “Thank you.”
“Thank you,” Echo sighed happily and continued down the hallway with a spring in her step.
“You’re so good with her, honestly,” Cassandra whispered, appearing in the same sudden way she usually managed. “And thanks for watching the desk for me.”
“No problem,” Charlie hummed. “No one even called.”
Cassandra took her usual place behind the counter. “Yeah, I knew they wouldn’t.”
Charlie, as so many other things around here, lets that remark pass by unexplained and unexamined. “So, any new arrivals tonight that will need special attention?” she enquires. Cassandra always knows.
“Not really!” Cassandra says cheerfully. “Well, maybe them.” She nods towards the entrance and Charlie turns around.
On the whole, Charlie would be the first person to admit that she isn’t very observant when it comes to people’s appearances. She was, at least, not a very good judge of aesthetic. Perhaps it came with seeing so many people every day. Only truly familiar faces stood out to her, and only those she was fond of truly left an impression. But the woman that had just entered the lobby was so undeniably, blatantly beautiful that it was impossible to miss. She looked like she had just stepped out of a magazine, walked straight off an expertly photoshopped billboard. She was perfect. Charlie nearly took a step back from actual unease.
Almost every single guest she had seen here so far had had something imposing about their person. Something larger than life. Something incomprehensible. This woman, as she made her way over in perfect symmetry, with not a hair out of place and not a blemish on her face, had none of that. She felt…completely comprehensible. Exactly and irrefutably flawless. A walking impossibility.
Trailing behind her, holding on to her spotless ivory hand, she led a thin, but strong-looking man with dusty clothes and shabby sandals.
“Good evening,” the woman spoke, and her voice was every smiling, practised, perfectly melodious TV presenter’s voice Charlie had ever heard. “Our patroness made us a reservation?”
“Good evening, Galatea, Pygmalion,” Cassandra answered readily. “She most certainly did. Even booked you her favourite suite. Here you go.” She handed out the room keys and sent the couple on their way.
Charlie watched them go with a great deal of most unprofessional staring. “Are there more people like her?” she asked tensely, when they were well and truly out of sight and earshot.
“You met Eros and Psyche last week and Galatea upsets you?” Cassandra laughed.
“What? The cute married couple? They were nothing like her.”
“Well, no, there’s no one like her,” Cassandra said amusedly. “She’s a one of a kind miracle.”
Charlie exhaled. “She better be.”
Cassandra chuckled. “I can’t wait for you to meet Aphrodite.”
“Does she look like that?”
“Oh absolutely not.”
“Then I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
[Upbeat, inquisitive music returns]
Laura: Thank you very much for listening, I hope you liked this installment of Hotel Olympus. Transcripts, easy streaming, and all the information about this podcast and all my other creations can be found on laurasimons.com.
There’s another tale to tell some other day, but until then: remember to mind your mythology, guard your name, and be safe.
[Music fades]
Copyright Laura Simons, please do not copy my stories without my permission, lest you insult the fae.