|Can't Find My Way Home|
|Summary:||Darek has heard of lost children, and wants to do something about them.|
|Training Ground, Tanglewood Manor|
|Room desc goes here!|
|15 November, 289|
Darek has been brooding again. But it's not a sulky sort of brooding. Instead, it's a very directed sort of brooding, an intense sort of feeling under lowered brows. It breaks when he speaks up after sending the new little page off to get washed up after a bit of practice in throwing a punch. "Ser? Are you looking into look into the boy who disappeared?" His shoulders tighten up, as if in expectation of a verbal blow in response, and he hurries on, "I mean… since there're others gone, it's not really your job, but… are you going to, Ser?"
The Songbird is mopping his brow, rag soaking up the fine layer of sweat. He glances over toward his squire when he speaks up, and those dark, dirty brows arch high over equally dark eyes. "I hadn't thought too much about it," the Captain of the Guard confesses with a slight tilt of his sweaty head. That thought alone bothers him, but he tries not to let it betray his casual features. "Why do you ask?" He inquires as he tosses the rag aside, it falling with the lump that is made up of his jacket and tunic.
Darek billows his shirt a little to start up an artificial breeze within, "People are scared, Ser." There's a pause, and he gestures up toward the keep, "Well, not people, but," and he gestures out to the town, "people." Looking down, the squire scuffs his boots in the dust, then scrubs back his hair from his face, "People shouldn't be scared. That's what a knight's supposed to do, right Ser? Protect people?"
Jac watches his squire, detecting each little change in his shoulders, his stance, the way he shuffles his feet. He arches up both brows again, before his face settles into a stony thoughtfulness. "Alright, Darek," Jac says after a moment. "You look into it." He reaches down to pick up the bundle of clothes, glancing toward the looming Tanglewood Manor before settling his attention back on Darek. "Report what you find directly back to me, and if things get hairy…" He pauses, looking straight at his squire, a boy who is more a man these days. "Say the word, and we will back you up."
Darek straightens up a bit more at the permission, letting out a breath he probably didn't know he was holding. The warning and offer draws his cocky grin back into place, "Aww, c'mon Ser. Someone's taking kids. They wouldn't be doing that if they were anyone to worry a senior squire." He's not old for a squire, just old enough. Snorting softly, he adds, "Probably just some twisted shit of a…" he cuts off there, darting a look up at the manor. Even if he doesn't finish the thought, the meaning is clear enough. Clearing his throat, he revises his previous thought, "Uh… if that's the case, maybe I will run get you, Ser. I get in enough trouble for getting punched. I don't need any more like that."
"As I've said before, lad, never enter a situation with too many assumptions… it'll make an ass of you," Jac offers a bit of a helpful grin before he steps up to clap the senior squire on his shoulder. "For now, don't involve the Sheriff. There's a chance none of this is connected, or that we've got kids runnin' away from rotten situations. With the bandits going on, we got enough shit to deal about." He frowns after a moment of thought. "But, follow the scent until it's dead." He starts to step away, pausing to flex his right hand's fingers over and over again as if they ache.
Darek frowns a bit, but he nods, perhaps reluctantly, "Yeah… uh… I don't think the Sheriff likes me that much, since I spend so much time with S — Miss Shale. I won't, uh, bother him with it unless I have to." His dark eyes drop down to the flexing fingers, "Your Da used to do that, Ser. When rain was comin' in. Said it's how he knew he was o — " at least the squire has the sense to finish that statement with a cough, rather than the rest of the word. "So… uh, you know that Jere," that would be the page, "follows me around when he's got free time. I'm not allowed to rough him up to make him stop, am I, Ser?"
Jac arches up a curious brow at the news that Lord Erik might not have a fondness for his squire, though he refrains to know why Miss Shale is involved in that. Instead, he rolls on his jacket over his bare chest, and huffs out a bit of air before shaking his head. He even laughs. "Give him something to do, Darek… find a purpose for him. He's here to learn, and he's decided he's going to learn from you."
Darek grumps quietly, "Yeah, like you didn't have anything to do with that, Ser." Still, at least he's grinning when he says it. Scrubbing back his hair again, he nods a bit, "I can't have him tagging along when I'm poking around anyhow. Wouldn't do for him to fall down and bump hims head." The last is delivered in a little bit of a baby talk, perhaps forgetting that he was at least as awkward, and probably even more clumsy at that age.
Maybe Darek has forgotten, but Jac sure hasn't. He gives his squire a sharp swat across the head. "Don't make me get Miss Lotti to remind you about your page years, lad." Then he gives Darek's shoulder another amiable squeeze. "Now, get on with it." He pauses as he continues toward the barracks, looking back toward his squire. "Start with the boy's best friends," he suggests. "Think of all the things you told your best chums that you never told your mum." And then he's off again, waving his hand as he goes.
Darek's head jerks forward with the swat, and he reaches up to rub at the back of his head, "Ow…" He nods at the suggestion, "Don't worry… you talk to Miss Lotti about my time as a page, I'll just ask her 'bout yours, Ser." Then he considers something, and snorts loudly, "I told my Ma fuckall. Good idea with the best mates." And then he moves over to snatch up his swordbelt and buckle it back on.