A/N: Want a bit more of Confined lore? Then welcome!
Since I removed Valla, and with it Anankos. Laslow, Selena, and Odin shouldn't be here. So I reworked them. This is Laslow's start. Also, his mother's name is Olivia because I couldn't think of a different one.
Dance… it is Laslow's only true reprieve as his time as Crown Prince Xander's retainer. It is the art that he has always been exceptional at. Partly due to his mother's insistence, mostly from his natural talent. While, for most he thinks, having a subject all but forced onto a child from their parent would paradoxically deter them from it, Laslow's fascination only grew the more his mother guided him.
And when there are few other joys that a Nohrian can have, he cherished every moment he could have with her. As with his mother, Olivia, he was born in the booming port city of Cyrkensia. He… unfortunately never knew his father. His father was one of the far too many who died under King Garon's role.
Without a proper father figure and a mother who had to work double time to keep them sustained, Laslow's youth was a lonely one. There were so many other children in the same position as he, and there still are. The difference? His mother. She led Cyrkensia's dance unit. The 'elite' that brought nobles and royalty for their performances.
These were all things he merely heard, never seen. Simply being the son of the leader for dance didn't mean he could get in free. Even Olivia could never secure him a ticket before they sold out. Nobles would send gold weeks, even months ahead to have a seat. Laslow could only imagine how something could be so desirable. The gold in total sent dwarfed his mother's yearly pay. Most went to building related costs.
His mother and he would only see a fraction of that.
While yes, his youth was filled with far more than the basic necessities. Pristine carpets, chandeliers, the colors of purple and light blue dominated their large house. But, there was a problem.
He couldn't buy more family time with gold. Mother would leave early, arrive late, and the whole day spared maybe an hour for mother-son time. And that time was mostly spent dancing. For even an entire day's worth of dancing never killed her spirit for it. Had she the stamina, she would rarely stop. Dancing brought her mood through the roof, laughter would come out in waves, her eyes sparkled, she would extend a hand to him, an invitation for the joy of dance.
Even when he stumbled, she smiled. Nothing ever brought her down when she danced… And nothing ever brings him down when he dances. The joy he felt couldn't be described with simple words. To even think that a sentence could convey his feelings would be a disservice to it.
How can one describe absolute perfection? The pinnacle of ecstasy? To feel like he is with the Dragon Gods themselves?
No, he would never use words. He would rather express through dance.
Then, why would a dancing prodigy swear an oath to defend the son of the king who caused so much grief?
…
He had no choice. It started when his mother began coming home earlier and leaving to the amphitheater later. It started when she finally wanted to have him learn the last few untaught dances she knows.
Laslow awoke early, as he has come to do, to spend that precious half hour with Olivia. While he would have simply thrown an outfit together, since more time looking 'nice' meant less time with her, his mother would already look ready to perform.
She would wear an outfit that complimented her feminine attributes. And blue, the colors were always some shade of blue. She dyed a portion of her hair a deep navy blue, while the rest remained its rather unusual natural pink.
"Are… you ready for a dance?" Despite being a master performer, she always became small before she started.
"I am." He smiled, which puts her at ease.
"I'm… I told you that there are a few I haven't taught you yet, right?"
It took him a moment, but he nodded, "You insisted that I needed to be older."
"R-right." She twiddles her hair with a finger. "I'm going to show you one of them today."
"I'm always ready to learn…"
"Son, trust me," She interrupts with a gentle smile, "You'll only need to see these last few a single time. There's no practicing involved." His disbelief is written all over his face, and she giggles. "'Prelude to the Waves'." She says, "that's the name of the first one." Somehow, his mother, in that moment, changed.
It wasn't her smile, the joy in her eyes, her posture, and not her clothing. No, there was something else, a sense he couldn't place. Feeling a sudden pressure on his chest, he gulps and nods. "I'm ready."
"Good. Well, like I said, 'Prelude to the Waves'." It… began slowly, her moments slow, but fluid. No energy was wasted, everything flowed into the next. Every moment, he expected for the tempo to shoot up, but it never did. That entire dance routine stayed slow, like it was a warm-up… And then it hits him.
Like it was the calm before the storm. "That…" He breathed a deep breath, since he forgot to breathe during her performance.
She stumbled back and smiled, "I'll be back after work. I love you, son."
"I love you, too, Mother." Perhaps he was too taken aback by the performance to notice the way she started heaving for breaths, or how she wasn't walking as gracefully as she normally would. He just knew that he saw one of the most spectacular dances she has ever performed. Which lead to one outcome.
He did the same, time and time again while she was at work. As she said, he was able to mirror the movements one for one the first time, no amount of repetition made it any smoother than it already was. It's like… he's known it all of his life.
As usual, his mother came back tired, but satisfied. By now, her hair bands have came undone, some of the short-term navy blue dye in her hair has faded, and her sweat has removed the makeup, but she still looked every bit as the mother he loves. Especially when she started smiling, "The… second part, okay?" She timidly approached him, her fingers working into her dress.
"Of course." He returns the smile. "Does this one have a name, too?"
"'The Tides that Change'." Again, Olivia is… different.
"Do these last dances have special meaning for you, mother?"
She opened her mouth, but then closed it and shook her head, "It's not that…" She looks away, "I'll tell you later, okay?" Laslow simply nods. "'The Tides that Change'." She repeats.
As with the last, her movements start slow, some of the previous moves make their way here, too. However, she has finally hit that 'beat' that he assumed would have happened last time. Gone were the slow, carefully-constructed painting, and in comes a fast-paced whirlwind that has even her sweating quite intensely. Yet, at the same time, not matter how quickly she went from one portion to the next, it still came out fluidly. Nothing was forced or fixed. To him, it ended all too soon. And again, she stutters back, drained…
Still with that smile on her face, the light in her eyes, the woman who loves dance above all, with her son higher than dance. She puts a passion into her movements that even the best of the best would envy. "That was…" He cuts himself off, no. There were no words that could be said, he doesn't know if there ever could be words to describe her performance. "I still don't understand why I needed to be this old to learn them."
"It's… not about age, actually." She admits while taking a seat. She's far more tired than she would normally be. "There are actually a lot things I never told you."
"I'm sure you're just waiting for the right time, right?" He asks.
"...That's just it, son." Her mouth forms a thin line, but doesn't quite dip into a frown, "I don't think I can wait for the 'right time'. I'm going to need to teach you these things soon."
"Mother…? I don't like how this is being phrased." Laslow feels a cold sweat drip down his neck, "You aren't leaving me, are you?"
"Gods no!" She quickly shakes her head, "It's just…" She yawns, "Maybe tomorrow? After I rest?"
"Of course, don't push yourself too hard." He offers a gentle smile. However, even after they share a hug and a gentle 'good-night' kiss, he couldn't help but notice the fact of how tired she is. And it's not like they were dancing for an hour without break, she only showed off a single, maybe five minute, dance. Which also meant that he didn't get to spend the entire time with her.
He may love dance, but what is so truly important with these last ones that has her sacrificing what little time they have together?
The next morning was like yesterday never happened. Olivia awaited for Laslow as he got up, the two danced the other 'normal' dances, she said her goodbyes as she went to work, and he is left alone for a number of hours. Despite the house being able to contain several more than Olivia and Laslow, there were no Butlers or Maids to speak of. The sad truth is that they wouldn't be able to afford one. Off for his first set of chores, Laslow would go through and clean what he could. After that? Well, there's dancing.
While he does have a bit of spare gold, he'd rather hold on to it. He has spent the bare minimum of his allowances, since both dancing and the time with his mother gave him all he could ask for. For a moment, he thought of walking around outside, maybe look at the canals. Perhaps he would stop by his favorite spot for tea? Nodding to himself, he switched out his hastily gathered bundle of clothes for something far more presentable. Gone were the random, mismatched shirt and pants, and on came a suit of sorts.
Unlike mother's admittedly revealing dance-wear, Laslow wore something far more covering. However, like his mother's dance-wear, he too went with the shades of blue. A deep navy blue dominated the outer coat, for when the cold began to bite, it's said that if it becomes particularly cold, then the Ice Dragon that controls the area around the Ice Tribe goes uneasy, sending blasts of chilling air that can span the entirety of the world.
Those who don't believe that say it's simply the 'weather'.
Laslow felt more towards the former.
His pants held a few shades lighter than his outer coat, they even have the design of small waves stitched around the knee area. His shirt looked the closest to the ocean blue. White gloves, to represent the foam from the sea when it splashes against the coast. Finally there are his shoes, a shade of blue between his pants and shirt, looking more akin to the sky than the sea.
With his favorite set of clothing on, with his small amount of gold in his pocket, he sets out. The first thing that would hit him is the smell of the canal. The waters were always clear, always clean. It was not uncommon to have people actually swim in them, as long as you parted for when a canoe came by. Around his home held other houses, most of them at least looks as well-made as his mother's.
What did his father do, exactly? Olivia always tried to skirt around that topic. Was she ashamed of what father did? He wasn't a criminal, right? Literally all he knows about his father is that he got his brown hair from him, though a number of his mother's unusual natural pink hair started to pop up. Was his father tough? Did he dance? Maybe sing? Or was he the more muscular sort, a blacksmith? A soldier? He resolved on asking her again tonight, at least why she doesn't want to talk about him.
Shaking his head and placing a smile on his face, he walks out of the immediate residential area and into the marketplace. Even from here, the amphitheatre stood tall, a building far larger than it had any right to be. Was it larger than a castle? He couldn't say, but he can say that it dwarfs all the other buildings he's ever seen. Continuing his walk, he goes past all of the stalls, where many holds trinkets, souvenirs from the port city. Which, a number of those pay tribute to his mother's dance team. A dance team he'll probably never get to actually see.
A turn here, a bridge there, and he ends up at one of the local cafes. Taking his seat, he calls over the server and places his usual order, a simple cup of tea alongside a few snacks. Turning around, he looks at the flowing canal, the water that ever seems to sparkle. A few people are actually in it right now. However, out of all of them, one stands out, literally. A single lady refuses to get in, crossing her arms as she looks at the others. Considering how much hair she has, she must be of nobility. Twin pigtails that run the course of almost her entire body. The torrent of red hair stops below her waist. A shortsword is strapped to her side, and she has a small buckler on her right shoulder. It didn't take much to notice that she must be pretty strong, especially considering she looks to be about his age.
Reality brought him back when the waiter came in with his order, "I haven't seen her before." He states, he doesn't need to look to know the waiter. It isn't a large cafe, after all.
"Me either." She replies in kind. "A tourist probably."
He hums, "I'm thinking more of a traveler, she has a sword."
"Oh… you're right." A pause, "Oh, excuse me." She goes to undoubtedly another order.
Laslow takes a moment to sip his tea, followed by a single bite to a snack. While it is rude to stare, he finds himself unable to break his gaze on this red-hair woman. Well… if she isn't going to go swimming. "I'll be back shortly." He turns to the owner for a moment, who gives him an affirming nod. Still, wanting to show gratitude, he places some gold ahead of time, letting him know that it's for the tip. Laslow walks over to the edge, where this woman has yet to budge, acting more the bodyguard than a young teenager. "Hello, ma'am." He greets.
She continues to stare ahead, overlooking the ones swimming in the canal… maybe she is a bodyguard? No, he internally shakes his head, she's far too young to hold a job like that. "Is there a reason you're just standing there?" She finally asks, ironically right when he was about to return to the tea cafe.
"I couldn't help but notice how you aren't joining the others. The canal water here of the highest quality." It wasn't a boast, it's simple fact.
"I don't like swimming." She flatly states.
Ah, that would explain why she refuses to get in, "Then perhaps you would like to join me for a cup of tea?"
"I'm busy." She has yet to even spare a look his way.
He feels an urge, "Perhaps later, then?" He feels like there's more than just her current prickly behaviour.
"I'll be busy then, too."
"Tomorrow?" He tries one last time.
"Look, I'm always busy, alright?!" She finally snaps back, "So stop asking!" For that last bit, she looks his way, with a glare that burns right through him.
Finally able to see her face, he is doubly sure she looks far too young to be an actual bodyguard. Yet, even this young, there is a fire in her eyes, she too, has a passion. Her eyes seem to burn a brighter red than her own hair. "My apologies, miss…?" Yet, even with all of these thorns on her, even with her fiery shell, he can't deny there is a beauty in that, too.
"Selena." She replies after a hesitation.
"My name is Laslow." He offers in kind. "I'm sorry to have bothered you so much." He takes a few steps away to…
"Hey, Laslow." She speaks up. "I'm not saying I want to, but I might have some free time tomorrow." Her gaze is back over the canal, watching over the other children splash about.
"Trust me, you won't regret it."
She scoffs, "Yeah, sure. I'm only doing this because you offered." If Laslow could actually see her face, he would have seen a small smile form, but he had already turned around and made his way back to the cafe before he could see that.
She's… interesting.
Olivia returned far more tired than usual. Laslow actually had to assist her as she stumbled through the door and almost to the floor. "Mother!" He cries out, "What's wrong?"
"Oh… we're just practicing for the… big performance in a few days." She breaths, still showing off that entrancing smile.
Oh right, the yearly dance is coming up, and while she's always been more tired around this time, she is far more exhausted this year. "You aren't straining yourself, are you? Can I get you anything?"
"Oh, son. You're so wonderful." She hides a giggle behind her hand as she is finally stable enough to stand, "Maybe some tea, if it's not too much to ask?"
He smiles, "Of course it isn't. Please, relax while I brew some up." Olivia gently walks over to the nearest chair, and ungracefully plops down on it. Attempting to hide a concerned look, Laslow goes into the kitchen and starts up the tea kettle, mixing in a relaxing blend, something to help soothe the body. While it heats up, he also grabs a few snacks, handpicking ones that will best suit the tea. He places the last snack right as the tea finishes its own preparations, perfectly timed. One kettle, two cups, and a tray's worth of snacks in hand, he goes back into the living room, where Olivia seems to be fighting to stay awake.
It hurts him to see her this tired. "Oh… thank you." Still, she smiles, the sparkle is still in her eyes, the grace is still there. "This smells wonderful, you were always so good at making tea." She holds the decorated teacup close to her chest, relishing in both the warmth of the cup and the aroma the tea produces. In this position, she seems more a child clutching a cherished toy than a mother. "Mmm, delicious." She breathes a sigh of relief as she slumps back into the chair. "And you always think ahead, don't you?" She's undoubtedly referring to the soothing effects of the tea.
"I can't just stand aside, watching you so drained." He admits as he adds just a pinch of sugar into his, dipping a small biscuit shortly after.
She smiles, "I'm sure whichever woman you end up with is special, to have a man as considerate as you."
His face burns, "Mother…" He looks away, embarrassed at her rather bold statement. She usually isn't so blunt with her praises. "Speaking of women, actually." Her growing smile leads him to the conclusion that she's about to get the wrong idea, "I-I just meant I met one today, she's a traveler, I guess."
"How is she?" The teasing ended and she is genuinely curious. "She must really stand out if you're bringing up a tourist."
"Well…" From there, he recounts the day's events, going into rather great detail about the prickly, fiery woman who calls herself Selena. "So, she ultimately agreed for some tea tomorrow."
Olivia simply offers him her best smile, "Had I the time, I would like to meet her. Thorns and all." She giggles, looking far more refreshed than she did when she came in.
Despite the good humor, he couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt. How many other children see their parents so little? Olivia spends most of her days working, while her child grows up. How much does it hurt her? To miss so much of his life? What would they do if she didn't have to spend the entire day working? Would they walk the market? Swim in the canals? Would he still be a regular member of the local cafe? Would he have met Selena?
"Well… maybe after the yearly performance is over?" He offers, "Aren't the performers given an extra bit of time after?"
She nods, "But only because it is such a strenuous festival." Despite it, she smiles, "However, I can always make time for you, son." She yawns soon after, probably due more to the tea's soothing effects. "At least I can say I'll sleep well tonight." She grabs a snack, and more nibbles on it, than actually biting into it. Her shoulders have slouched, and she seems to have sunk even further the plush chair. Even her eyes are starting to droop closed.
"Shall I help you…" He didn't even get to finish that sentence before her eyes have already closed, tea and biscuit still in hand. Smiling to himself, he places his own cup down, and first grabs the cup and biscuit before her grip ends up falling and it gets over her dress. Placing those aside, he carefully and very gently helps his already sleeping mother up. Come to think of it, this happens about the same time, before and after the yearly festival. He'll help her get to bed since she's just so tired.
Gently breathing, Laslow guides his mother to her room, parting the covers and lying her down, and only removing her shoes. "Good night, mother. I love you." He places a simple kiss on her forehead, before bringing the covers up and leaving her room, gently closing her door. Olivia may look her happiest when she dances, but she at her most peaceful when she sleeps. Yawning himself, he too, prepares for bed, but giving himself just enough time for a single dance.
Mother, while up before him as usual, looks less ready to go, but it isn't visible, he isn't sure how he knows, but he does. "Are you ready for the third dance?" She asks, that sparkling smile on her face, the light in her eyes renewed.
"Yes, I am." He refrained from asking the name.
"'The Storm Approaches'." She supplies. Like how with 'The Tides that Change' started where 'Prelude to the Waves' ended, 'The Storm Approaches' starts off with that wild, fast pace where 'The Tides that Change' finished off. This third dance mixes in the first two, one moment she'll jerk around, shake her hips, throw her arms, the next she's moving ever so slowly… like when the eye of the storm is overhead. Again and again, fast and slow, fast and slow.
And like the others, it seems to end too early. "Gods, mother…" He breathes.
"These… are all part of one larger dance." She says, which makes sense. "It's… actually normally done with more. At least, that's what mother told me."
His grandmother… Olivia told him she was the one who introduced her to dance, as her mother before her. "Are these familial dances, then? Ones exclusive to our family?"
She pauses, looking uncertain. "You can… say it like that, yes." She suddenly looks smaller, as if she's crossing into territory she shouldn't. "I should… get going."
Now that she mentions it, "You're going to be late, aren't you?" He just now notices the time.
She slowly nods, "They'll understand, it is that time of year, after all. I love you, son." She plants a quick kiss on his forehead, the smell of her perfume being very noticeable.
"I love you too, mother." He replies in kind as she leaves. Still, she does seem more tired than usual, is this year's performance more grand than usual? Is all the royalty coming to watch this time? It occurs to him that he only knows of King Garon, nothing of his wife or children, other than the fact he knows of their existence. Shaking his head, he too, prepares for today. Not just to a trip to the local tea cafe, but for also having Selena with him there. Perhaps a cup of tea will dull those thorns?
Selena was… actually there before him, even though he arrived early. "Selena?" He asks.
"Laslow." She replies without looking, as if ashamed she agreed to this.
"You're early."
"So are you." Still prickly. "I don't have a lot of time, after all, so can we go?" Despite the question, she walks into the cafe without waiting.
He quickly follows suit. He notices that she still has that sword by her waist, the buckler on her shoulder. She even still has her armor on. "The usual, please." He politely requests, earning a strange look from Selena. "I'm a frequent customer." He supplies with a smile.
"Oh." Is all she says.
"So, do you travel?"
"Yeah."
"How far have you traveled? How many places have you seen?" His interest is piqued, as he's only heard of other places through the tourists and books.
"I don't know. I don't sightsee." Well, that just killed that line of conversation.
"Well… where did you come from?"
"An abandoned shelter, with only my father for company." Oh, well that might explain her lack of social etiquette.
"I noticed that you have a complete set of armor and a weapon, aren't you a bit young to fight?"
She locks a glare at him, "I grew up in a place of constant danger, of course I know how to fight." A beat passes, "How does it feel? Growing up with all of this security? Being pampered by family and having all of these things?"
"...lonely." He admits while graciously accepting the tea and biscuits.
"How?! You have all of these… things around you!" She gestures at the buildings.
"It's true, I have all of these materialistic possessions. But, I never knew my father, and my mother works nearly the entire day. I could buy all of these things, but all I want is more time with my mother. If I stayed at home, I would be as isolated as your abandoned shelter." He pauses, feeling the pang of sorrow hit him, "There aren't many my age around me."
"...oh." She deflates, clearly not expecting that answer. "When you put it that way…" She takes a sip of the tea, not wanting to continue. As such, it continued in an awkward silence. Only the sounds of sipping tea and biting into the snacks was heard. Even the owner cleaning the glasses held a louder sound than they. "This was… nice, I guess." She looks away, as if embarrassed to admit it. "Never expected someone to have the guts to do this for me. It's… nice."
"I'm glad to have invited you, then." He offers his best smile. "Would it be too much to…"
"I won't be here tomorrow, so no." Is… she actually crying? Laslow catches the shine of a tear leaving her eye, and she ever so slightly shakes. "It's not fair." She quietly adds.
"Oh." He says, "Will you…"
"I don't know." She interrupts again, "I travel, remember?" She still refuses to look his way.
"Well… I hope I made a good impression, Selena." He tries to bring the mood up, "If you ever find yourself here again, I'll be more than happy to do this again."
"...thanks, Laslow." She mutters, "I have to go." She abruptly gets up, her tea half-drank, her biscuit only with two bites in. A frown made its way on his face. How tough did Selena have it? Could he really claim to have the same?
Laslow returns to the house and prepares himself for when… "Mother?" She's home… early? "Is everything alright?" Like with yesterday, she's already slouched on the chair, looking far more tired than she had any right to be. "Gods, if I known you would already be back."
"It's… alright." She sighs, "We're just finishing up the last touches."
"You weren't this tired last year." He points out.
She slowly nods, "King Garon and his two sons. King Sumeragi, his wife, his three sons and his two daughters, are all coming this time." She somehow sinks even further into the chair.
"All of them? Then… wouldn't that mean you and your group would need more practice?"
"We can't, we're doing the same ones I'm teaching you." Ah, that's right. Somehow they are the dances that you only need…
"But, you told me you didn't need to practice them."
She bites her lip, caught in a lie. "Most of us don't, there are a few members who do."
"...Mother? Is everything alright?" His concern is heavily evident.
"How was your time spent with Selena?" She abruptly changes the topic, in an almost panicked attempt.
Still, he rather go along with it. She doesn't need the added stress of him being stubborn. "After I got through the prickly exterior, she's actually really nice to be around."
She lightly giggles, "Oh, so she's that type."
"She won't be here tomorrow, though. She already has to leave."
"Oh…" A yawn is added soon after. Olivia slowly rises, "I… need to rest. Good night, son. I love you." She weakly smiles.
"I love you too, mother." The second she turns away is the second he frowns. There is something more going on.
Again, like with yesterday, Olivia was late to leave, but unlike yesterday, she spent the morning relaxing. No dancing… at all. And she looked all the worse for it. "Mother…" He voices his concern.
"I'm sorry." She replies, "I'm not doing good of a job as a mother, am I?" For the first time in a long time, a frown forms on her face.
"It's… just this time of year, that's all." He tries to comfort her. "I wouldn't dream of having anyone else as my mother."
"Even if I'm rarely around?" She's still downcast.
"Even if you're rarely around."
A smile, however small it is, comes on her face, "I… needed to hear that, thank you." She rises, "Well, I should get going."
"I love you, mother." He gets out first.
"I love you too, son." With their familial affection traded, she leaves once more. Laslow, once again, decides to go to the local tea cafe. Not just for his usual, but he thinks he is also going to get some high quality tea leaves, if he can. With that in mind, he heads out once more.
The streets of Cyrkensia are starting to get more and more traffic, as the yearly dance comes closer and closer. The booming port becomes even louder. Yet, paradoxically, Laslow feels even more alone than before. So many new faces, so many different personalities. Nohrians and Hoshidans alike fill the pavement… and it's apparent on the differences. Cyrkensia may be a neutral city, it can't stop the animosity. He can feel the tension between the groups.
"The usual, please." He politely requests as he enters the now-crowded cafe. "And um… are there any high-quality tea leaves available? I want to brew an extra special kettle for my mother when she gets back today."
The waiter smiles, "You are always so considerate for her, Laslow. And yes, we do."
"I… hope I have enough, then." He undoes his pouch and…
"Laslow, my boy." The owner himself stops by his table, somehow hearing him over the crowd. "Put that pouch away." Laslow stops mid-tug.
"It would be wrong to not pay you, sir."
"It would be wrong to charge you for something that Olivia herself will drink to soothe." He counters with a smile. "I insist."
"...Then at least let me offer a tip."
He chuckles, it's deep and hearty, "Alright, I give. But just a tip." He pats the waiter on her shoulder, "She's getting it, though." With that, he walks away.
"I'll have your order and leaves ready shortly." She bows before she too, leaves. Smiling to himself, Laslow waits.
And right as he gets comfortable, the crowd around him shushes, he also gets a sudden tingly feeling, a powerful presence enters the area. "Part way." The voice sternly states, leaving no room for argument. "I've been told this is the best Cyrkensia has to offer for tea." The man's words are calm, composed. Laslow turns and sees an exquisitely dressed man. His clothes are of the absolute highest quality, at first glance, Laslow would say they are worth as much as his very house. He stands tall, blonde hair brushed down perfectly.
The man is a mage, he notes as he carries with him a tome that sports an etching of a tree on it. It took a moment for Laslow to notice that is where the feeling of power is coming from, not the man himself. "Welcome, Prince Leo." The owner kneels. "I assure you, all the goodwill you heard of this teashop are true."
"I best hope so." He undoes a sack on his belt, brimming with more gold than Laslow could see in half a year's pay, "I only have the best, after all."
"Any preference on flavor, Prince? I offer every tea for every taste."
"Calm. Like the still of nighttime." He simply supplies.
"At once." The man rises, bows, then goes back to the kitchen.
It wasn't until Prince Leo sat down that Laslow remembered how to breathe. Prince Leo… so he is one of King Garon's sons. He gulped, his presence is certainly overwhelming. Unlike with Selena, he made sure to break off his stare before he was caught. Leo's calm feels so much more dangerous than Selena's fire. "Laslow…" The waiter returns, quickly and quietly, "I'm… sorry." She suddenly admits, "We're unable to get you the tea leaves you wanted. It went to Prince Leo's order." She offers him a small bag, regardless, "These are as close as I can get."
...Even though he ordered first? "It's… alright." He tries to sound calm about it, "Thank you." With that, she nods and nearly bolts towards the kitchen. Does royalty always get this kind of treatment? Prince Leo is the first one he has ever seen. Do all of them emit this kind of presence? This sense of rule? He tries to calm himself by occupying himself with his tea and snacks, trying very hard to not be overwhelmed by the sheer factor of Lord Leo's aura.
"Here you go, Prince Leo of Nohr." He overhears the owner say. "I serve this to you with the best I can offer. All of my experience goes with this."
"Hmph." Is all he offers. A moment passes, then another, "I can see why this cafe is so reputable." For some reason, a wave of relief washes over Laslow. "Here." A thunk follows after, undoubtedly the gold in his pouch. One glance shows that Lord Leo just gave the man half of his sack of gold! He just carelessly paid several hundred pieces of gold for a single cup's worth of tea! The sheer fact that he is able to spend so much in one sitting baffles Laslow.
Again, Laslow takes a breath, before he passes out from lack of air. He suddenly felt the urge to leave, lest Lord Leo's mere presence crushes him. He tries to quickly down the rest of his tea, finish off his biscuits, and leaves, along with the gold coins on the table. He doesn't know how much more he can take.
In the streets, Laslow didn't even make it half-way before yet another presence entered the area. While Lord Leo's emitted calm, this one was of sterness, a wall that cannot be budged. Atop an armored horse held a rider, clad in full armor. He also has a circlet around his head, a crown. Also sporting blonde hair, this man rides tall. A blade rests on his side, almost as long as he is tall. Despite his youthful teenager body, he looks to have the strength of the best soldier. "Stand aside." His voice booms, even though he said so at a normal tone.
"Crown Prince Xander." Several people gasp, moving aside and kneeling. Crown Prince… so he is the first son of King Garon. This man of stature rode his horse as if he owned the place…
Then looked straight at Laslow. The dancing prodigy locked in place, as if the gaze alone turned him into stone. For the third time, he forgot how to breathe. "You, boy." Ironic, considering the Crown Prince doesn't look too much older, "Name."
"My name is Laslow, Crown Prince Xander of Nohr." He quickly says, not sounding too composed.
"Laslow…" He repeats. What did Laslow have that so quickly caught his attention? "You're the son of Olivia." Oh… right.
"I am, Crown Prince." With that, the man guides his horse towards him, before his dismounts. As he assumed, the man looks not much older, and he only stands a few inches taller. Laslow immediately kneels.
"This is my first time in Cyrkensia." He starts, "As the son of the grand performer, could you humor me with an example of what I will see tomorrow night?"
But… he doesn't know what all mother will be performing! Well, since she mentioned the latest ones… "If that is what you desire, milord." Which one? Would he prefer the slow? Fast? A mix? All three?! Externally, Laslow is somehow keeping his cool, but inside he is panicking.
"Then rise, I wish to see one."
As if his command causes him to move, Laslow does just that. Taking the man's stern nature into consideration, he does with 'The Prelude to the Waves'. Sternness with calm…
And thankfully, it seems Laslow has chosen the right one. "Impressive." The man admits. "I'll admit, I am now at least interested in tomorrow's performance." He climbs atop his horse once more, "Good day, Laslow."
"My best for you, Crown Prince." He holds a bow until the man is out of sight, and it is only when his presence is completely gone that he breathes.
"Gods, that was amazing." He was praised. "How did you do it?" Came the questions. "You kept your composure around the Crown Prince himself!"
Clutching his bag of tea leaves closer, "I love to dance." He simply replies, "Now please, excuse me. I have a kettle of tea to brew for my mother for when she returns." Amusingly enough, the people parted for him. It's a strange feeling, to have the masses conform for him so willingly.
Again, his mother was already there, half-asleep as is. "You're home early again, mother." He says, while showing off his bag of almost-highest quality tea leaves. "I got the special ones for tonight."
"You… didn't have to." She gently smiles.
"But I wanted to. Tomorrow is the big day."
She giggles, "That it is." Laslow walks into the kitchen as preps the tea, "It's going to be really taxing tomorrow." She calls out, "I don't think I'll even be awake enough to spend this time with you when I get back."
Inside, Laslow's heart aches. "I… understand. The yearly performance always leaves you exhausted."
"Which is why I'm showing you the last dance tonight." Laslow keeps his composure as his mixes in the tea leaves. "I'll be right back." He didn't even get a chance to respond before the door opened and closed. It wasn't until a few minutes after he had the tea and snacks ready did she return with… water pails in tow? "Thank you, son." She accepts the cup, "I'm… going to need this, tonight."
"Don't strain yourself, please." He says.
She smiles, "It's alright. I'm doing what I love for the one I love the most. I'll be fine." She places the water pails beside her. One to her left, one to her right, and one more to the very far right. "This… is supposed to be done with a second, but I don't have one."
"I wish I could, then."
She shakes her head, "I don't mean a dancer, I meant a singer. At least, that is what mother told me." She nervously twirls her hair. "'Alone in the Waves', is what's it's called without the singer."
"And with the singer?" He asks.
"'Lost in Thoughts, All Alone." She smiles.
"Neither sound too…" Too what? He isn't sure.
She slowly nods, "All of the ones I shown you are important in their own way. But this one is more so, I'm only performing this because it needs to be passed down. None of these are ones you perform just to do, they each have their meanings, their significance." He casts his mind back to when he did the first one for Crown Prince Xander… so, that wasn't the right thing to do? "Are you ready?"
"Yes, mother." He nods and gulps.
"Alright… 'Alone in the Waves'." The beat is slow to start, even slower than 'The Prelude to the Waves'. Every movement seems to take an eternity. Slide, stretch, it looks more to be initial exercises as to prevent cramps, rather than a dance. She closes her eyes and picks up the speed… before slowing down. Fast, slow, fast, slow. Nothing comes out stiff, always flowing from one to the next. The beat steadily increases, movements become rapid, faster and faster until she reaches the fastest he has ever... She slows. Another slow part, back to the start. This calm didn't last as long, as she sped up then… she hit the left pail?
Water splashed out, but it never did hit the floor, instead it became suspended. Laslow pinched himself so he could breathe… how? Magic? She does the same to the right bucket, and that water too, starts floating. Olivia starts to rely more on her arms than legs, complicated gestures performed without a hitch, the water droplets rise. They dance around her, leaving behind small trails, sparkling in the light. More water rises from the pails on their own. Her eyes re-open… and they seem to glow, or maybe it's the water around her?
Her midsection starts to move around more like her arms, while her legs remain slower. Shake, shake, thrust, spin, she has even started to hum, completely lost in her own dance… Alone in the Waves. A single dancer oblivious of all else. Finally, her legs join in with the rest of the wild movements, and even more water rises. Entire rings of water surround her, whipping by as if it's a whip. Spin, spin, twist, twirl, more water surrounds her, forming a barrier of sorts, a bubble. A beauty inside a sphere of water. Sparkling and shining.
Laslow pinches himself again, as he keeps forgetting to breathe normally. And how could he? The sight is so entrancing. It's… beyond perfection, it's a level that he is having trouble comprehending. And unlike the rest, this one doesn't feel like it ended too early, no…
It ended right on time. Olivia stops, the water is sent out in torrents, and she holds a pose. The room is plastered with the water, but nothing is ruined. Even the water that slammed onto Laslow felt… purifying. Whatever stress he held was gone, he felt at peace… like he does when he dances.
Then Olivia collapses, spent in a manner that made her seem energetic earlier. "Mother? Gods, mother!"
"I… was too into it." She admits with a smile. "But… it was worth it." Laslow heaves a heavy grunt as he helps her up… she's practically limp. "Did I ever tell you how grateful I am to have you?"
"In many ways… but never so directly." He says, face laced with concern.
"I love you, son." She says as he guides her to her room.
"I love you too, mother." he replies in kind as he assist her into bed, removing her shoes for her. She reaches up to stroke his hair while he tucks her in. "Good night, mother."
"Good night, son." She already looks so peaceful…
So why did it hurt so much to leave the room?
"Son? Laslow?" He felt his shoulder being shook, Olivia standing over him. "Come on."
"Hm?" He groans as he shakes the sleepiness away, "What's wrong?"
"I'm… taking you with me. To the performance." At that, his eyes shot open. "I might need help getting back."
When he rises and looks her in the eyes, she looks so exhausted, already. "Will I get to see…?"
Sadly, she shakes her head, "Not directly. The… music is beautiful all the same." She offers in consolation.
"Will that one song play?"
"Yes, we'll be performing 'Lost in Thoughts, All Alone." She looks tired as she says that. "Now come on, get ready." With a sudden energy surge, Laslow gathers his best as his mother leaves his room. While he is disappointed that he won't get to actually see her perform, to simply be in the amphitheater will be enough to soothe his curiosity… this time.
"I'm ready." He proudly proclaims as he leaves his room, with mother waiting near the door. She gives him that beautiful smile and they depart together.
"You'll be able to look from the sidelines." She amends, "You'll be able to see some of it, but once the beat picks up, we'll have to move up and onto the front."
"Being in the same area will be enough for me, mother." It's a small lie, but since it got her to smile, it's a lie he's willing to tell. "I love you, mother."
"I love you too, son." Strangely, the streets were near barren, reaching an almost ghost-town state. Only a handful of people walked. Internally, Laslow was thankful, it meant that those powerful presences wouldn't be here…
"Um, excuse me." A vibrant red-hair woman approaches them. Unlike with Selena's gracious amounts of hair, this woman's has hers cut short, looking more like a tomboy than a girl. "I don't suppose you've seen my little brother? A little short than me, lighter gray hair, maybe wielding a toy bow?"
Olivia shakes her head, "I'm sorry, we haven't." Laslow offers. "If we see him, we'll tell him you're looking for him, miss…"
"Hinoka. Princess Hinoka of Hoshido." Princess? She lacks the same foreboding presence as Leo and Xander. Her aura is more… comforting. "His name is Takumi, by the way. And thanks!" Despite being a princess, she seems well-built, like she spends more time training that acting the princess. She happily waves as she resumes her search, calling out Takumi in an increasingly aggravated tone, seeming to not care if she sounds rude or un-lady-like.
"She's nice." His mother says, "Oh! We should hurry." Nodding in agreement, Olivia and Laslow picked up their pace.
Laslow thought the streets yesterday were loud, but the amphitheater proved that wrong. Thousands of conversations echoed in the walls, each trying to outdo the other so their conversation partner could be heard. Being unable to actually look out, his mind could only imagine just how many people are out there. The place is sold out, after all. "Hey, it's alright." Mother looked even more extravagant than normal. Bells, earings, regular rings, makeup, she had it all. Looking the best for the best performance from an audience that expects the best of the best.
"How are you not buckling under the pressure? I'm not even performing and I can feel all of it on me."
"Would you like to hear something, then?" She twirls her hair.
"From you? Anything?"
"I'm really nervous." She giggles at herself, "Just focus on the dance, and the world fades. Have fun." She smiles.
"Right, of course." He knew that, "How could I forget?"
"Olivia? It's time." Her group called her out, each as well dressed as their leader.
"Of course!" She squeaks, "I'll see you in a few hours. I love you, son."
"I love you too, mother." Two shared kisses on each other's cheeks, and she was off. A pit still formed in his stomach… she looks tired.
As she said he could, he stood on the sidelines, hidden from all eyes. Olivia shares a single loving look at him before the curtains rise. The announcer started saying his piece, first quieting the audience, then proceeds to get them as excited as possible. Another group of women came from the other side at this point. They were similarly dressed, but their clothing was ever so slightly more constricting. His mother's group and this other group mixed in together, one of mother's was with one of the other group. It occurred to him that the other group were the singers.
"And without further ado! Enjoy!" The announcer finishes off. One beat, then two passes, and in perfect unison, they all begin. As she told him, they started slow, the singers tune were high-pitched, but the notes came out at the same speed as the dancers' movements. He recognized the dance as 'The Prelude to the Waves'. He had to resist the urge to jump in with them.
When the next piece came up, 'The Tides that Change', the beat jumped up, both groups moved forward, soon going out of his sight. He frowned, but stayed put. Again, the singers' tunes matched the dancers' beat. Fast, fast, fast. In his mind, he pictured the movements.
'The Storm Approaches' came up right as he pictured the end of the second. When the slow resumed, the groups stepped back, into his sight, and as the fast returned, they moved forward… like a giant wave.
Then came the finale, 'Lost in Thoughts, All Alone'. Even from here, he could see water drops coming up en masse. Rising with the singers, rising with the dancers. Faster and faster, spinning and twisting, creating a beauty that he could not fully see, a sight that dwarfs all other sights a...
A collective gasp echoed, the amphitheater went completely silent, but… it's not over. He knows it, what could have…
Mother.
Against her wishes, he looked out. Mother collapsed, her body couldn't take the physical demands.
But that was nothing compared to the audience. Only the privileged were here, those who always got what they wanted. And to have a performance interrupted? The outrage was quick. If… if this continues. No, he wouldn't let it. Olivia was right, he only needed to see it once, so he took the boldest step of his life…
He walked on stage. The mere act of his boldness quieted the crowd, and both mother's and the singer's group looked at him. "Laslow?" The singer's leader harshly whispered.
"I can do this." He said with such a conviction that he surprised even himself. "Please sir, help my mother off the stage." He directed his gaze at the announcer, who quickly nodded. Why? Where was all of this courage coming from? He took a breath. Just focus on the dance, and the world will fade. "Shall we continue?" He asks once his mother has been safely taken off.
"We'll be resuming from the start of the finale." The singer concluded, her voice loud enough to echo through the amphitheatre. For a moment, the crowd was quieted, placing their hopes in a boy not old enough to be a man. The son of Olivia. "You are the ocean's grey waves…" She starts and in that moment…
Laslow knew exactly what to do. Standing aside the singer, he started, focusing on the dance, mirroring his mother's movements one-for-one. Slow, so slow, speed up, less movements in the legs, more on the arms. The water rises once more, higher and higher, faster and faster. Shake, shake, thurst, spin, twirl, the water trails behind. More movement on the legs, kick, spin, the water begins to form the same sphere he saw around his mother… except this one is covering the entire stage, the largest bubble to have ever existed.
And before he knew it, the song and dance ended. They all held their pose as the water blasted out, giving that glorious purified feeling that he felt to everyone. He took a breath, remembering to breathe.
A moment passed, then another. The applause followed and his heart swelled with pride. "I'll pray to Him for you tonight, Laslow." The singer whispered as both groups bowed. "We can never thank you enough."
"Mother?" Laslow gently asks as her eyes slowly blink open. "Hey."
"Las...low?" She groggily asks. "Are we home already? How was… wait." Suddenly her eyes shot open, "G-gods, no! I…"
"Your son did a marvelous performance." The lead singer said, "It was as if you were still there."
Her eyes snap to Laslow, with nothing but the purest of love and adoration, "You… oh, son." She smiles.
"Olivia, are you up to greet the ViP?" The lead singer continues.
"I… think?" She stands up with difficulty, before falling back down. "I'll need help, but yes." With that, two of her dancers came to her aid, "I'm sorry to be such a burden." Laslow followed the others as they made their way out.
"Daddy, look!" A baby girl with light-pink hair squeaked, she is holding on to a man with an impressively decorated suit. "It's them! It's them!" Her voice is very high-pitched.
"Good evening, everyone." A man with a pair of glasses bows. "This is King Sumeragi of Hoshido," He gestures towards the bulking man, who is now holding the small girl on his shoulder, "his wife, Queen Mikoto." A gentle woman smiles at them, "High Prince Ryoma." This man looks the spitting image of the King, "Princess Hinoka." Recognition flashes across the red-hair's eyes as she and Laslow lock gazes, "Prince Corrin." A slightly younger boy looked at them from behind Mikoto. But that's not what captured Laslow's look, no. This boy has pointed ears and red eyes. "Prince Takumi." He looks like Hinoka described him, toy bow and all. "And finally, the young Princess Sakura." He finally points to himself, "I am Yukimari. It is a pleasure to meet you all."
"That was an incredible performance." The King proudly states.
"Do it again, do it again!" The small Princess Sakura cheers.
"Shh… they need to rest." The Queen coos, "I am… beside myself. I've never seen anything so beautiful."
"Agreed, mother. I can't describe it." The High Prince nods.
"It's better than the best." Princess Hinoka simply says.
"I'm looking forward to next year." Prince Takumi smiles.
"Corrin?" Mikoto nudged the silent boy.
While he is slightly older than Sakura, he seems so much younger with his hesitation. "You… did gr-ea-t." His eyes are wide.
"We're pleased to receive such high praise." The singer smiles.
"I'm… glad you… enjoyed yourselves." Olivia breathes, still exhausted.
"And you, too." Hinoka levels a look at Laslow, "That was so brave."
Laslow flushes at the direct praise, "Oh it's… I just do what I love."
"You have a true talent then, sir…"
"My name is Laslow, Princess Hinoka."
"Laslow, huh? I'll remember that." She smiles.
"Please, excuse us." The King offers, "We'll return for next year." After saying so, the rest said their goodbyes and left. A few moments passed in silence.
"Ah, the performers." A particularly greasy voice says. "This is King Garon of Nohr." He gestures to a man who seems to be going gray, "Crown Prince Xander." Laslow stiffened at the sight of this man, especially when his eyes locked onto Laslow. "And Prince Leo." Leo still holds that tome. "Unfortunately, Princess Camilla, Princess Azura, and young Princess Elise were unable to make the trip." He bows, "And I am Iago."
"I am impressed." Garon roughly states, looking not impressed at all.
"I thought you were good then, but now?" Xander starts, his eyes have yet to leave Laslow, "You've caught my attention, young Laslow."
"He's the one you spoke of, brother?" Leo asks, "I suppose I can see the talent."
Rude, all three of them. "I am excited to have performed for you all." The singer praises them, all the same.
"Agreed, I hope you'll come back. I do sincerely apologize for my abrupt collapse." Even mother stiffened, looking unsure.
"As mother said, I hope you'll return." No, he really didn't want to.
"We are leaving." Garon more commanded than stated.
Laslow shared a look with Olivia once they were gone. "Shall we go home, then?" He offers.
"Of course." Her smile isn't as bright, either.
"I'll see you in a week!" The singer calls out, "Take care!"
It was the dead of night. Neither Olivia or Laslow felt like doing anything. He doesn't blame her lethargy, so they just both called it and went to sleep. Or at least, that is what he would have done, if the door wasn't all but banged on. Considering that his mother is far more tired than he, Laslow answers the door. "May I…"
Crown Prince Xander?! "Hello, Laslow."
"I-I'm at a loss… had I known you were coming." He trails off.
"Yes, pardon my abrupt appearance." He doesn't look concerned at all, "I came to offer you a position by my side, Laslow."
"Um, as…?" Why him?
"My retainer." He states, as if Laslow should have known that, "You'll be paid with the highest quality Nohr has to offer."
"And what about my mother?" He couldn't just leave her here!
"What about her?" The harshness in his voice caused him to visibly recoil. "You are to be my retainer, not her."
What could he say? "Can I have some…"
"No, I'm leaving in the morning." He cuts him off. "Yes or no?"
"Yes." He ultimately decides, more to avoid whatever wrath awaits him if he says no, "But I want the gold sent to my mother."
"Hmph, very well." He shrugs it off, like it doesn't matter. "I'll return in the morning, be ready." With that, he leaves.
Laslow is left standing there. Small shuffling could be heard as Olivia walks into the main room, "S-Son?"
"I'm sorry, mother." He turns her way… she has tears rolling down her face, "He's the Crown Prince, I can only think of…"
"Don't change." She cuts him off. "Promise me, whatever happens. Whatever trial you have to go through. Don't change. Always be my loving and caring Laslow, okay?"
He pulls her into a hug, "I promise. I'll always be the son you know and love."
Laslow shakes his head as he takes a breath. Years. It has been years since he made that promise. It's a promise he continues to keep. Even after the intense sword training, to where he is as skilled as he can be. Today, he rides with his liege, alongside Peri, a vicious fighter that is his other retainer, off to the Northern Castle for the first time. He is meeting with a little brother that the Crown Prince calls Corrin. But Laslow… he knows better. Xander might have forgotten, but he hasn't.
Prince Corrin is of Hoshido.
He stays silent, to speak out would be the worst of wraths from the Crown Prince.
"I love you, mother." He whispers to the wind as the Castle comes into view. Part of him wonders if Corrin will remember him.