Coming to the inn the young lord had told him to in the journal, Basch stood before it a moment. He wondered what the matter could be. Surely he should have asked first, though he was not worried that Larsa would try and harm him. Hardly that. The young Archadian lord was not like his brother in the least, and even though he wanted to think him trying to earn their trust merely for some sort of diabolical plan... he could not see it. Larsa was not his brother. He was not Vayne.
Hoping that he could help Larsa with whatever the problem happened to be, he walked into the inn, and went to the inn keepers desk. Giving him the boy's name, he was given a room number and giving his thanks, made his way up. Finding the room with the number he'd been told, Basch brought a hand up to knock.
"Lord Larsa, tis Basch." he called through the door.
He had been doing this since he had been five. Whenever frightened or upset, he would hide in the corner of the room, wrapped in a blanket as though to shield the world from himself.
In his mind he was reciting the drafted speeches, the Archadian constitution, the Solidor lineage...anything and everything to calm him. Because beneath the polished etiquette, the Solidor Crown Heir was still only twelve.
Hearing the small call for him to enter, Basch turned the knob, finding it unlocked. Stepping in slowly, he found the young Solidor much like he had found Ashelia not so long ago in her room. Huddled in a blanket in one corner of the room. Closing the door, he made his way over, kneeling before Larsa.
"Lord Larsa..." the boy looked, distressed, hurt, at a loss... he didn't know what to do. Blue eyes glanced over him, quiet a moment.
"... what is it you wanted me for?" Basch asked softly.
Only his eyes were showing, bright blue eyes widened with fright. Glazed with the onslaught of tears. In one movement, Larsa had thrown his arms around the man's waist. Losing all composure he began to cry onto Basch's shoulder, heaving sobs burdened by heartache. "Please," he hiccuped, "please stay. I don't want to be alone right now."
It wasn't that he was very close to Basch. He was no closer to Basch than he was to any of his other teammates. They were all more like amicable comrades than close friends. No, he had longed for Basch because Basch looked like the one person Larsa longed to see during times of stress.
Holding his arms up slightly when the young lord clung to him, Basch was at a loss. What... what was he suppose to do? Looking confused, Basch slowly brought his arms down and held the young boy. Something must have happened, why else would the other call him here to use him as a shoulder to cry on.
Then it hit him.
Gabranth.
Basch didn't know if he was hurt by that or not. Then again, Larsa was only a young boy, what else was he suppose to do? Perhaps it would not be so bad to be a substitute if he could help the other. Rubbing a gloved hand over the boy's back, he nodded slightly.
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Hoping that he could help Larsa with whatever the problem happened to be, he walked into the inn, and went to the inn keepers desk. Giving him the boy's name, he was given a room number and giving his thanks, made his way up. Finding the room with the number he'd been told, Basch brought a hand up to knock.
"Lord Larsa, tis Basch." he called through the door.
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He had been doing this since he had been five. Whenever frightened or upset, he would hide in the corner of the room, wrapped in a blanket as though to shield the world from himself.
In his mind he was reciting the drafted speeches, the Archadian constitution, the Solidor lineage...anything and everything to calm him. Because beneath the polished etiquette, the Solidor Crown Heir was still only twelve.
Reply
"Lord Larsa..." the boy looked, distressed, hurt, at a loss... he didn't know what to do. Blue eyes glanced over him, quiet a moment.
"... what is it you wanted me for?" Basch asked softly.
Reply
"Please," he hiccuped, "please stay. I don't want to be alone right now."
It wasn't that he was very close to Basch. He was no closer to Basch than he was to any of his other teammates. They were all more like amicable comrades than close friends. No, he had longed for Basch because Basch looked like the one person Larsa longed to see during times of stress.
His Gabranth.
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Then it hit him.
Gabranth.
Basch didn't know if he was hurt by that or not. Then again, Larsa was only a young boy, what else was he suppose to do? Perhaps it would not be so bad to be a substitute if he could help the other. Rubbing a gloved hand over the boy's back, he nodded slightly.
"I will stay."
Reply
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