Author's note: Yay, second chapter is up! It's not often I'm so motivated for a story like this. I have my gorgeous girl Megan to thank for LARPing this with me. Disclaimer in the first chapter.
The Hidden Prince
Chapter Two
When Bast opened the door, no creak met his ears. He popped his head in and saw cleanly swept floors, cleared tables and a polished bar. However, there was no one in sight beyond the scruffy looking human wiping glasses behind the bar. He gulped, and realized that, though dark, it was still early for people to begin drinking and reveling for the night. Gripping the 'help wanted' sign from the window, he stepped in.
"Er, 'scuse me, is the manager in?" he tentatively called out to the barkeep. The man glanced up and away from his glasses, looking faintly surprised.
"What do you want with him?" Bast was asked. He held up the sign.
"Ah, right. He's in the back, four doors down." After giving the diminutive boy a second look, he added, "good luck," and went back to polishing glasses.
Quirking an eyebrow at the odd warning, Bast straightened his hat over his ears and walked down the hall. A stray piece of silver-blue hair was brushed out of his large eyes as he tried to keep his steps quiet. Stopping in front of the door, the boy paused to straighten up. He pulled the hem of his too-short sleeves further down his arms, wishing they'd reach his wrists. He absently rubbed one scuffed boot on the back of his leg. Taking a deep breath, Bast knocked.
"Whatever it is, I'm busy." An uninviting answer from within. Bast tried again.
"One more knock and you'll leave with a broken wrist. I'm busy."
"I'm, uh, here about a job?" he called out through the door. He could hear an annoyed huff from inside.
"Be specific, you idiotic waste of breath!"
"The bar job! I'm here about the bar job!" He quickly yelped. After a few seconds, the door slowly swung open. He stuck his head through the door to see what manner of probably demise awaited him. This must be the worst idea ever, he thought to himself.
Amid the shadowy, smoky room, and well-dressed figure sat behind a low desk. Smudged maps and papers covered the expanse of the wood, as well as compasses and other, unidentifiable things. A single candle on a shelf lit the room. Although Bast could see surprisingly well, the person sitting behind the desk was still shrouded in darkness.
"Well? Make this quick, I have other business to attend to," snapped the man in a cold, familiar voice. Bast stepped forward slowly, and stood at the side of the desk. He mutely held out the 'help wanted' sign, which was quickly snatched away.
"Very well then," the man said briskly, "what can you do?"
"Excuse me?" he asked, confused.
"To help in a tavern, you worthless nuisance. Can you do anything besides standing there with a half-dead expression?" He wasn't looking at Bast at all, instead he was making small changes to a large, colourful map.
Resigning himself to this awkward interview, Bast lifted his head and spoke.
"I can wait tables, serve drinks, clean, take care of the stable, anything you need. My name's Sebastian Drewer, but everyone calls me Bast, I'm 19, and I'll be a great help, if you hire me" he finished breathlessly, and waited for a response. To his surprise and dismay, the other man stood up and became instantly recognizable as the elf from the night before. Bast tugged his hat down further in nervousness.
"So you would prefer to work for me, rather than sneak in at all hours of the night, is that it?" he drawled lazily. Bast flinched; he'd hoped he wouldn't be recognized.
"I, er, uh...I'm really sorry about that, see, I was being chased and this was the only place with an open door, and it's just that I didn't think anyone was here, at least, no one who would mind if I -"
He was cut off by the elf holding up a hand, motioning for silence.
"I didn't ask you why you did it. I asked you if you would prefer to work for me, boy."
"Yes I would," he answered quickly, hoping it was enough to save him. With a heavy sigh of annoyance, the elf stood up and walked toward Bast. His heels clicked on the hard floor, driving intimidation straight into Bast's heart. Slowly, yet with great authority, he walked around Bast, peering at him, inspecting.
"You are...19, you said?" The elf's usage of the normally harsh common tongue was smoothed by a strange accent, reminiscent of far off places.
"Um, yes, sir. 19."
"Hn, well, you'll do. You'll need room and board, I suppose?" He returned to his seat, not looking at the boy standing in the room.
"Er, yes, please," Bast said sheepishly, shuffling his feet.
"Very well then, the fee shall be taken from your pay," he stated matter-of-factly. "Any complaints?" he continued, when Bast uttered a small noise of surprise. He shook his head quickly in response.
"Good. Your room will be the third from the left on the top floor. Baths are on the ground floor, take one before you start work tonight. Use the soap provided and brush your hair." He looked distastefully at the shabby gray cap sitting lopsidedly on the other's head. "Hats are not allowed while working."
His tone was final, indicating that their interview was at an end. Bast, however, remained standing in front of the polished desk, uncomfortably shifting.
"I don't like not wearing my hat," he murmured, knowing he was probably asking for trouble. The elf's head shot up, eyes narrowed.
"Whatever made you believe that I cared one whit what fools such as you like or dislike?" His formerly smooth and clam voice had turned sharp enough to cut stone. "If you wish to to be in my employ you shall follow my rules, promptly and to the letter. Am I making myself utterly, inescapably clear to you?"
Bast nodded, mute. He felt he might faint at any moment. Luckily, the pale head turned down again.
"I'm glad we've reached an understanding. The toad that birthed you would be so proud. You may leave now."
Without a word, Bast turned to the door, wanting desperately to get outside for some air. Just as his hand had gripped the knob, the silky voice called out to him one more time. Bast nearly groaned at what he heard, fully understanding the mistake he'd made coming here.
"By the way, you may call me Elaith. Elaith Craulnober."