Garrance Oneshots

Skyloft

"Vincent!"

Up ahead, the black haired male practically jumped at the tone of Garroth's voice. The immortal Shadow Knight turned around to see who had called out to him, and a smug look was on his face when he saw Garroth approaching him. He crossed his arms, trying to look cool.

"Well well well, look who it is." Vincent began, a hint of a grudge in his voice. "Garroth Ro'Meave, the biggest loser in the school. What could someone as lazy and idiotic as you want with me?"

"My Wyvern." Garroth stated, not dropping the harsh look on his face.

"Oh yeah, your Wyvern. I haven't seen him around for quite some time." He shrugged, but Garroth knew he was lying. "Such a shame if you can't find him in time for the race, then you'd have to sit out."

"Give him back!" He shouted, pointing a finger at him. "I know for a fact that you have something to do with this!"

"And why would you think that?" He asked, faking an offended look. "I think that, because your Wyvern has a brain like yours, he got confused with all these clouds and got lost."

"Excuse me?" He said in an offended way, glaring at Vincent. "What makes you think you have the right to talk about Wyverns, the guardians of Skyloft and the blessings given to us by Lady Irene herself, like that?"

"I'm a Shadow Knight, I'm meant to talk smack about Lady Irene and all she did." He smirked, before his face turned to stone. "I know what you're trying to do."

"Pardon?" The blonde tilted his head, raising an eyebrow.

"You want to win the race because you'll be all alone with Laurance at the top of Lady Irene's statue, isn't that right?" Vincent accused him, as if he didn't want to win for the same purpose. "You know, I'm getting real sick and tired of you always talking about you and Laurance grew up together, how you've been close ever since you were little kids. But, judging by your accusation, you're still nothing but a little kid."

Pointing a finger at him, Vincent continued. "People like you are dragging our academy through the mud! And you listen here, you twerp. This is my special day. I'm the one winning that race, and I'm the one who'll be up on the statue with Laurance.... alone. It'll be our special moment, where he'll give me the sailcloth he worked so hard on for today."

"What makes you so certain that you'll win the race?" Garroth asked him, honestly fed up with his behavior.

"I do actual practicing far more than you do, and I have my Wyvern, unlike you." He chuckled, crossing his arms as a small blush came on his face. "I bet he was thinking of me every second he was stitching that cloth...."

"Yeah, thinking about how satisfying it would be to see you lose."

Both Garroth and Vincent turned at the sound of a new voice, and were surprised by who they saw. Laurance was approaching them, his arms crossed as he glared at Vincent. Tied around his shoulders was a white cloth with a light blue design on it, the sailcloth he had stitched for the ceremony. He must have left his harp with his sister, the same one he would be using for the ceremony.

"And what do you mean by 'our special moment'?" Laurance continued, now standing in front of Vincent. "If you know what's good for you, then you better start explaining yourself."

"There's nothing for me to explain, Laurance. All I was doing was explaining to Garroth here that I haven't seen his Wyvern." Vincent lied, hoping it would get him out of trouble.

"Oh really? Because my surveillance cameras say otherwise." He frowned, clearly not amused with the immortal. "You penned Garroth's Wyvern in a cave by the waterfall. In doing so, you hoped to win the race and graduate. Isn't that right?"