I think this is about the longest post I've done on here that was a page part of a longer fic :p Anywho, yeah, quoted directly from episode 68, but I had to, yano? Hopefully, the extra description I added makes it less repetitive for you :) And so you know, the explicit stuff'll be coming up right away in the next page.
Enjoy! Nothing belongs to me 'cept Baldassare and yeah, I totally named the horses. Can you figure out what the names mean in what language? ;p (hint: I translated offa Yahoo! Babelfish Translator)
The next morning, Arsenio had a plan. He announced his leaving and sent his men to hurry along without him a ways, giving Rufus his robe so he could hide his hair and look like Arsenio was part of the entourage. Arsenio himself hid on his horse in some woods overlooking the general outlay of the land around the castle. He was an amazing tracker, so this young man couldn't get away from him. All he had to do was wait.
Finally, sometime at mid-afternoon, Arsenio spotted a brown horse carrying a tall rider. He was surprised, and somewhat glad, that Navon was out so early (for him). He hoped Navon hadn't gotten into any sort of trouble, though didn't see how; no one knew they'd even met. Perhaps he just wanted to get some fresh air before dark, so he could read and be able to see without bringing attention to himself with a fire. Arsenio waited a bit more. Navon dismounted the horse under a large tree, which had large roots, and sat on one of the larger roots with a book and, like Arsenio suspected, began to read. Arsenio gave him a few minutes to settle into a reading daze before mounting his own horse and riding over.
On the way, he saw that a huge cloud of darkness spreading over the large hills to about the east. Navon noticed them as well, since he glanced up and over, though without reacting at all. After a moment, he looked back to his book, but then noticed Arsenio coming. The proud blond decided to let himself be smug, though only subtly.
"So, even as destruction draws near, you seem to be calm," he said, arriving with that as a greeting to perhaps try to throw the dark-haired dæmon off a bit. All he got in return was a wary, distrustful look and a narrowing of the eyes and slight furrowing of the eyebrows. Clearly, Navon was not happy that he had found him, and even less happy that Arsenio was on a horse while he was not, so there was no way he could escape this time. Arsenio returned the look a bit, only a bit more warningly, since he didn't want him to run. Then, he couldn't help but smile at him, since he was cute in a way. "Well, your hair really is black, and so are your eyes, I see." It would be best to get that out of the way, since then he could reassure the other that he meant no attack.
"Although it's fine to have a healthy curiosity, nothing good can come from associating with me. After all, I bear the cursed signs of a double-black," he replied with a hint of conviction, putting emphasis on the word "cursed." Yes, there was that test Arsenio expected.
"Others may feel that way, but I find that color intriguing." He hoped Navon would get the joke and was thrilled to see Navon look away a bit, a slight smile gracing those thin lips as his face actually softened. If he didn't find him intriguing, he wouldn't be there, now, would he? Since Navon wasn't about to run away, Arsenio dismounted the horse, glanced over his shoulder to make sure he hadn't moved, and then turned to step closer and face him properly, putting a hand on his hip in a way of saying, "Here I am, so go ahead and look at me and see that I am open and trustworthy." "Besides, I came here specifically to get you," he said out loud, making sure it was clear that he had a more noble reason to find him than just to see his hair and eyes.
Navon had his eyes lowered, looking somewhat worried. Arsenio kept his strong confidence and smile and said, "You see, it is my firmest desire to make good use of your unique knowledge and wisdom."
Navon closed his eyes thoughtfully and with a somewhat underlying frown. "For what purpose?" Ah, lack of self-confidence, perhaps? Or lack of confidence in Arsenio? This person was getting more and more interesting.
"To do battle against the Originators and their army," said Arsenio boldly and frankly, looking over at the slowly-spreading darkness for emphasis. Navon did the same, deciding that looking over there and not having to meet Arsenio's eyes was more agreeable to him.
"You want to fight them? Do you really think you can defeat the great power possessed by the Originators?" Slight awe. That was good.
"Trust me, it can be done." It was easy for Arsenio to talk about this, which showed how sure of it he was. To his delight, Navon finally looked him in the eye without negative feelings.
Arsenio stepped over to him. "With your help," he said as he extended his hand for Navon to take. He was confident he would take it, even though he still had that bit of distrust in his eyes.
After a flash of amazed astonishment, Navon smiled in a way that made Arsenio's heart leap to his throat. "Either you're an enormous braggart, or else you're some kind of legitimate hero." He looked up at Arsenio with that smile and also some admiration, and then closed his book with a snap, not even bothering to mark his place. And then, he took his hand and stood.
Arsenio smiled warmly. "I bid you most welcome, most formidable scholar. I know you'll be a most treasured head tactician." He let go of the hand of Navon, who followed the lead and let his hand fall to his side. He bowed in an ancient Kleist fashion to tease him. "I'm Arsenio Spitzberg, though you seem to already know that."
"I could tell you're a Spitzberg, but I wasn't sure who you were exactly," Navon admitted. "Though, what you yelled after me led me to conclude that I was correct." He smiled a tiny bit again, somewhat awkwardly, clearly not used to the expression. "I'm Navon Kleist, though I know you knew that already." He did the funny Spitzberg bow again, though only a bit, since it wasn't completely needed.
"By the way, I hate to correct you, but that book from which you learned to bow…is so ancient, the bows have long since changed." Arsenio smiled a bit apologetically, though couldn't help but be teasing. Navon blinked confusedly at him. "Allow me to demonstrate. Most Kleists just bow like this now." He crossed his right arm diagonally over his abdomen and bowed a little. "And people don't bow in the fashion of other countries much, except when welcoming someone to their house."
"I know; that's what I was doing."
"Well, I can assure you that I felt fantastically welcome…until you ran away, that is." Arsenio winked. Navon looked away again, though Arsenio wasn't 100% sure why. "Don't worry about it; I understand completely." He put a hand on Navon's shoulder. Navon flinched a bit, but didn't pull away. Arsenio's smile wavered a moment, and then he removed his hand and held it before his mouth to clear his throat. "Well, we'd best return to your castle so you can pack. Is this horse good enough for long periods of travel?" Arsenio gave the double-black some space and went over to inspect the horse with an experienced eye. "Ah, he's delightful!"
Navon looked up and over at the strange man who had just somehow coerced him into running away from home and joining the largest collection of people one could ever find in one place. Clearly, he was used to getting his way, since he didn't seem to have any problem with the length he went to in order to force Navon to hear him out. He was overconfident, but then again he seemed to have reason to be. He gave off that strong air of being able to reach the heights to which his overconfidence (and probably ego) carried him, and that was probably why Navon found himself being drawn in like a moth to flame without his fully realizing it. Even though Navon had built up all that kept him apart from people, more so than his looks, that kept him from making connections with people, this Arsenio Spitzberg had easily waltzed on in on his dark-grey-almost-black horse and knocked those down with some simple yet powerful words and an extended hand. Navon was still wary, and yet something inside of him sparked to a small flame that perhaps this would turn out not so bad, but perhaps even very good.
Arsenio looked over at him with those crystalline blue eyes, still smiling. "Well, this is an excellent horse. You take good care of him. He'll do well for you in the war." He led Navon's horse over so both horses could meet each other. They seemed pleased with each other and even nuzzled. "And look, they like each other. Now you have to come with me, or else your horse won't be happy. What's his name?"
"I never really named him. There was never much reason to."
"Oh, well, let's think of something. Blauw might suit him, because of the pretty color of his saddle blanket." He patted the brown horse on the neck.
"Blauw is a good enough name as any, I suppose." Navon went over to the newly-named Blauw and mounted him, since Arsenio had gone over to his own horse, whose name was Schwarzes, he then learned, to mount up as well. They headed back to the castle as Arsenio caught him up with recent happenings, as well as making sure he knew who all the important advisors and the like were.
"Oh yeah, are you aligned with an element?" asked Arsenio about halfway there.
"No, I'm afraid I don't possess any magic powers."
"Really? None at all? Have you ever been tested?" Arsenio gawked at him a bit, though luckily Schwarzes knew to not run into any trees or boulders.
"Well, no, but if I had magic, I believe I'd know, wouldn't I?"
"Perhaps. Well, we'll just have to see about you, then. It would be handy to have someone aligned with wind, since we're at a loss for those. I'm aligned with water, by the way." He continued telling him about how they'd sorted some dæmons with certain magics together, and which of Arsenio's inner circle possessed what. He then mentioned their excellent healing force, and then they arrived at the castle, where Baldassare was waiting for them. He was angrily looking down his nose again, metal-grey, bushy eyebrows furrowed darkly. "I have a feeling your father is some sort of psychic," Arsenio whispered to Navon. Navon said nothing, too busy looking at his father with a spark of apprehension and…fear? in his eyes as he tried to hide in his half-neck-height collar. He was tenser than Arsenio was after a long, hard battle practice with Zigbert. And yet, there was also resignation, as if he'd known this would happen and also that there was nothing he could do about it, so why bother.
"Lord Spitzberg, I thought you had gone earlier this morning," said Baldassare as if nothing was wrong, ignoring his son for the time being.
"Yes, well, I had to coax him out of hiding somehow," said Arsenio, sitting tall in his saddle and refusing to let the much-older dæmon intimidate him. He pulled his horse sharply ahead of Navon's to shield him slightly.
"And you see, he does indeed show obvious signs of an appalling curse. I would hate for you to suffer for it, Young Lord, so it would be best for you to hand him back over to me and be on your way. There is no way he could be of any possible value to you." Baldassare stood his ground, still giving Arsenio a powerfully heated look beneath those eyebrows, now with his chin lowered so the effect was much more terrifying. Well, to Navon, who backed his horse up a bit. Unfortunately, they were now surrounded by Kleist guards, of which there were just enough to surround them fully. Arsenio didn't break his gaze, and yet he seemed to know they were there, and so grabbed Navon's reins to stop him from running right back into a spear, continuing to keep his gaze locked to Baldassare's.
"He is completely valuable to me. I insist most adamantly that he come with me." Arsenio's voice remained level, though with a low tone of warning. He remained perfectly calm, which infuriated the old Lord, who also kept his cool, though less so than Arsenio.
"This is a most foolish act on your part, Young Lord. I firmly implore you to see reason. He is too dangerous to take among your army."
"And it is much more dangerous for me to not take him into my army." Arsenio's hand moved to the hilt of his sword and he flicked it up a bit so a bit of the blade shone, clearly serious enough to fight for his tactician. This caused Navon to stare at him in absolute shock, but he dared not say anything.
Baldassare's eyes flicked to the sword and a flicker of uneasiness flashed in his eyes. "…If you are so decided in stealing that monster away, then so be it. But I am not responsible for anything that comes of it." With a cloak swish, he turned and walked back into the castle. The circle of guards dispersed and followed him in through the gate. "START THE CLEANSING CERIMONY NOW!" Baldassare called. Moments later, a cloud of smoke rose from where Navon's room was.
"My books!" Navon exclaimed, about to go in, but Arsenio still had his reins so all he had to do was tug to keep Navon from rushing to try to save his things.
"Leave them. There's nothing you can do," said Arsenio darkly, since he realized something. "We'll get you more clothes and things in a town away from here. Let's go now." He turned Navon's horse and led him quickly away from there, tying the reins to the back of his saddle where Navon couldn't reach, but then Blauw would follow somewhat behind.
They rode for an hour in silence, finally emerging from Keist land and into a deep forest. It was getting dark, and yet Arsenio kept going. The moon would be mostly full, so they would be able to see. From among the trees, they couldn't see the sunset, and yet they could see that the sky was changing colors.
Finally, Navon spoke at this time. "They were going to burn me in my room, weren't they?" he said dully, staring down at his saddle horn and sitting slumped, dejected.
Arsenio looked back at him, melancholy and still somewhat dark. "It seems so. He looked forward again, and down. "I apologize. I believe it's my fault."
"No, this was probably going to happen anyways. I should be thanking you for saving me, and yet…what's there to save?"
"Don't say that. You seem wonderful to me. And I don't believe in any silly curse, so don't worry about that."
"Since everyone else believes it's a curse, it is a curse because they believe it and…"
"I see… So, I'll just have to do my best to change how society sees you."
Navon couldn't help but smile a bit. "Okay, now I'm starting to think you're really just an enormous braggart."
"Well, I managed to convince an entire army of people that it's possible to defeat the Originators, so changing people's views on those with black hair and eyes should be relatively easy."
"If you say so…" Navon was too tired to argue. He was slumping both from the weight of sorrow over his shoulders and from a general disability of being able to hold himself upright. It was all he could do from falling off the saddle. He yawned deeply and almost did so right then, but a strong hand on his shoulder held him straight.
"Just hang on. We're almost there. See that light? That's my entourage's campfire." Navon blinked his eyesight clear and looked. Indeed, there was a fiery glow just ahead of them. "It's probably good that you stayed up all day, since now you can get into the right sleeping pattern." Arsenio kept his horse pressed gently against Navon's and continued to keep a steadying hand on his shoulder. It wasn't so scary, that hand which so frightened his father by threatening to unsheathe his sword. But why was that one sword against a group of guards so threatening? It was probably because Arsenio was famous for swordplay or something, though Kleists were usually known for that…Hn… Navon was almost too tired to think, and so stopped before his wandering mind wandered too far to dreamland.
"Here we are." Arsenio stopped the horses at the edge of the small camp. There were ten tents strewn around in a sloppy circle, at the center of which was the campfire. Arsenio dismounted and lent Navon a hand in getting down without falling flat on his face. "Hm, they didn't set up a tent for you, though I know we have one for that purpose. Must've figured I'd fail or give up. Oh well. That one's mine, so you can go ahead and sleep there; I'll just squeeze in with my friends." He began caring for the horses. "Don't fall into the campfire."
"Are you sure you don't mind? I could just sleep outside."
"Nonsense! You need a good night's sleep for tomorrow, since we'll be heading back to where my army is stationed. It'll be a few days' ride from here. Go to sleep. You can borrow a nightshirt from my pack in there."
Navon didn't argue and just went over to the tent. Inside, he didn't bother with much besides taking off his shoes and cloak, and just flopped down onto the soft furs, pulled the wool blanket over him, and fell instantly asleep.