A Christmas Le Défi
DATE: 24-12-2023 | LOCATION: The Archambeau Chateau - Strasbourg, France | TAGS: @Rafael Kraus | FRENCH /RUSSIAN | NOTE: take your time on the response! i know you said you were busy. just wanted to write this out before i forgot! also "le defi" in the title means challenge.
Bastien hated parties, especially ones that his family hosted. People were everywhere, food and drinks were constantly being spilled, loud music ensued and worst of all, the French boy was required to make his rounds every time, greeting each guest and making the impression that Maman wanted him to make for that specific encounter. It was mentally and physically exhausting and the boy would much rather hide up in his room and wait for the ballroom to empty as quickly as possible.
Fortunately, this time around, Bastien had gotten out of talking to all the guests when an argument between some Count and his old mistress erupted in the middle of the dance floor, causing immediate chaos and sides taken on all ends. Maman Mother was trying desperately to break up the battle of nasty words being thrown back and forth and Bastien took the opportunity to sneak out of the massive hall and into the room that gave him the most comfort in the entire empty melancholy chateau: the armory.
There was something truly fascinating about old weapons, magical artifacts and regular old swords alike. Bastien knew all there was to know about his family's business of trading old things but the weapons had always caught his attention the most, perhaps because he'd been trained as a sort of weapon for his mother himself. But that was quite besides the point, and something that hadn't exactly occurred to the 10 year old for the time being.
Regardless, Bassein found himself slipping into the room and gazing up at the walls lined with axes, swords, armor, clubs, scythes, you name it. Everything was there, including some very famous wizard weaponry from centuries past. He sighed in satisfaction, drinking in the quiet of the space and proceeding to take a stroll past each object. Eventually he wanted to make a slow round to the back where the archery artifacts were kept right next to the fencing swords—two very interesting forms of warfare and although being quite different, each had several surprising similarities.
With this in mind, Bastien walked, dragging his fingers over ancient Mayan atlatl's and Romanian shields made from massive dragon scales. He smiled, a rare expression to be seen on the young boy's face. Secretly, he wished he could stay there alone forever.
But that was not to be the case.
pc: avis greymond
A Christmas Le Défi
A Christmas Le Défi
Fortunately for the youth, the latter emotion remained dormant in the case of Archambeau's party, where attention was divided from the Kraus and instead fixated upon the host's family. It was rather amusing how chaotic the atmosphere revealed itself to be, unlike the quieter contentment to which Rafael was accustomed. Perhaps the Archambeaus were boisterous people.
As if having read his mind, voices of ferocity arose from the centre of the ballroom, disrupting what little peace there was. From where he stood, flanked by strangers flouncing in silk and caveats, Rafael was unable to witness the argument, though the sharpness in tone and uncouth words was enough.
Before he could venture forward, as his fascination piqued, the gentle grasp of his mother's gloved palm on his shoulder halted his steps further. Gelvira’s ember eyes, albeit soft under the incandescent glow of the chandelier, held an unflinching persuasion that soon led the young Kraus towards the double doors of the hall, away from the cacophony of men whose uncouthness was tucked under couture.
Even if, to a certain extent, Rafael understood the purpose behind his mother’s sending him off, there was the childish adamance that trailed after the boy as he wandered through the halls. In his eyes, there was nothing within those walls he had just left that needed to be censored. Profanities that spilt from one’s lips meant little to him. The crudity of such language could only get so far.
Unless it was because he was only eleven, his mother sent him away? His mutter, the woman who had conceived him, and understood her son in ways that no one besides his twin brother could understand?
Rafael’s fingers twitched before he curled them into his palm.
The son of Archambeau was soon spotted ambling around the armoury, a room whose grandeur slowed Rafael’s purposeful stride amongst the hallway. Such a room was one that Rafael had never seen, and Kraus had to concede to admiring the weaponry with interest. For a moment, he maintained his distance, gazing upon several artefacts of increasing ornateness. Eventually, however, it became apparent that ignorance was inevitable. And so, with the whispers of Vater’s reminders in his mind, Rafael closed the distance between the two young boys, lingering just behind @Bastien Archambeau. What surprised the young Kraus next was not the approaching sight of the archery artefacts in the next hall, but the praise that left his lips.
“It seems that your family business’s prosperity was not an exaggeration after all.”
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