Solanum Dulcamara

I. A Candle Flame; A Lantern Light

Brendon hugged his knees to his chest, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the hard back of the wardrobe felt as he pressed his spine against it. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if disabling one sense would help him focus more on hearing, which was a much more crucial one at the moment. But despite his efforts, no matter how hard he strained, he found himself rendered incapable of detecting any noise over the urgent pounding of his own heartbeat.

He mouthed a silent curse and leaned his head back until it rested against the wood. The space smelled old; the air was stuffy and musty, and had clearly been trapped in the wardrobe for a very long time. It really didn't help the already claustrophobia-inducing atmosphere created by the rather impressive collection of long-forgotten coats and hats that hung from the closet rod. In what could be construed as, depending on the overall outlook on life of the beholder, an act of either sudden brilliance or desperation, he yanked the closest coat, which happened to be a large fur one, so long that it brushed the tops of his knees from where it hung, and draped it over himself as another layer of hiding. Of course, if anyone were to open the wardrobe in search of Brendon, the first place they'd look would probably be under the suspiciously shaped mound of fur in the corner, but it at least made him feel better protected, if nothing else.

Okay, so maybe it was purely desperation.

Alas, the mustiness of the coat turned out to make the rest of the wardrobe feel like an open field in comparison, and Brendon could feel the dust creeping into his lungs with every inhale. He brought one hand up to his mouth to provide at least a little bit of protection from it. However, the ability to breathe comfortably soon proved to be not much of a concern, because it was at that moment that his ears actually did manage to pick up the foreboding sound of footsteps echoing off the stone walls of the corridor outside, and he resorted to holding his breath altogether.

The sound grew louder and louder, and it wasn't thirty seconds later that there was a creaking noise, signaling that the age-old wooden door of the storeroom had been pushed open. Brendon clamped his other hand on top of the first one as if to muffle the noises he already wasn't making.

There were a few more footsteps as his pursuer entered fully into the room. Then, they stopped, and Brendon pulled his legs in even closer to his chest, as if he were trying to fold in on himself and cease to exist altogether.

He was almost thankful when the eerie silence was broken, even if the source of the voice that broke it was, of course, the cause of the apprehension in the first place. "I know you're in here," the speaker said, and Brendon couldn't help but feel a little offended by how bored the words sounded. However, he bit back the urge to enunciate that frustration, and instead simply pressed his hands harder against his mouth until he felt the insides of his lips grind against his teeth. There were a few more moments of silence before the speaker continued, "I asked one of the guards."

Brendon's eyes snapped open, and his hands flew away from his mouth almost on their own accord. "You rotten coxcomb!" he exclaimed, throwing the coat aside indignantly.

Hardly a second later, the dark interior of the wardrobe was flooded with light, and the annoyingly apathetic face of Prince Ryan Ross III of Trepidius peering in at Brendon's crouched form. "Found you."

Brendon jumped up indignantly, and in doing so nearly bumped his head on the ceiling (could a piece of furniture have a ceiling?) of the wardrobe. He was much more careful as he climbed out of the cramped space, though his movements were still distinctly irate. "It doesn't count when you're a cheater," he argued, attempting to brush off some of the dust that now practically coated his trousers.

Ryan pulled an innocent face, although Brendon could see the amusement in his eyes. "And how did I cheat, exactly?"

Brendon let out an incredulous snort. "Getting help is definitely cheating. Not to mention it was paid help."