{COMPLETE} You will find me where it's quiet
Who: Larsa {
solidor_heir} and Basch {
bearer_of_shame}
What: Comforting a little boy, not a Crown Heir
Where: Crimson Dragon Inn
When: The evening after Larsa discovers his new 'family' have vanished before they even moved in together
*~*~*
Lessons taught him that peacetime was always the precursor to war. They were right, of course, for war was indeed looming. However, the boy had not expected to face an internal war. One much much closer than a clash of words and weapons.
He had been happy, these past few days. The Solidor Crown Heir was busy with drafting arguments and speeches for the Council, yes, but he was also busy with preparing to move out of the Inn and into a new home. A home instead of a house, along with two friends he held dearly in his heart. They were almost like parents to him, and he had yearned for their affection to fill the void in his heart that no others could.
That day he had finished labeling the seeds he had collected for Aerith, so she could plant them in the garden he wanted her to have. He imagined their house would be surrounded by beautiful flowers. He imagined a lot of things, and it seemed that they were to forever stay in his mind. For his dreamings would never manifest into reality, Rivelata dictated. She had swept the two of them away, as if wiping their existence clean off a slate.
And the boy was left on his own again. Only this time- this time it wasn't going to be easy. Thusly he had reached out to the one person he prayed could help him in his desperation to feel human, if for but one moment. To feel permitted to act like the child he truly was.
solidor_heir} and Basch {
bearer_of_shame}
What: Comforting a little boy, not a Crown Heir
Where: Crimson Dragon Inn
When: The evening after Larsa discovers his new 'family' have vanished before they even moved in together
*~*~*
Lessons taught him that peacetime was always the precursor to war. They were right, of course, for war was indeed looming. However, the boy had not expected to face an internal war. One much much closer than a clash of words and weapons.
He had been happy, these past few days. The Solidor Crown Heir was busy with drafting arguments and speeches for the Council, yes, but he was also busy with preparing to move out of the Inn and into a new home. A home instead of a house, along with two friends he held dearly in his heart. They were almost like parents to him, and he had yearned for their affection to fill the void in his heart that no others could.
That day he had finished labeling the seeds he had collected for Aerith, so she could plant them in the garden he wanted her to have. He imagined their house would be surrounded by beautiful flowers. He imagined a lot of things, and it seemed that they were to forever stay in his mind. For his dreamings would never manifest into reality, Rivelata dictated. She had swept the two of them away, as if wiping their existence clean off a slate.
And the boy was left on his own again. Only this time- this time it wasn't going to be easy. Thusly he had reached out to the one person he prayed could help him in his desperation to feel human, if for but one moment. To feel permitted to act like the child he truly was.