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inglouriously) wrote2011-12-25 02:16 am
inglouriously) wrote2011-12-25 02:16 am
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Some Christmas fic.
Not Christmas-themed, but a present all the same for lady_flamewing. ♥
She may have been a little over her head this time.
Emanuelle had been getting braver and better, dipping her hand here and there and gradually pulling off thievery of a higher caliber. True, she wasn't as good as her partner-in-crime yet, nor was she likely ever to be, but she had some small natural skill in it. Peculiar, for a princess, but then she'd always been peculiar for a princess. When she used to be one, anyway.
But this time, it appeared she had gone too far, too fast. She didn't fear recognition; darkened hair and peasant's garb ensured she looked little like Princess Shoshanna to anyone who had never seen her properly. What she did fear, however, was being thrown in a dingy gaol to rot away, or perhaps the loss of a hand for her theft. In retrospect, it was risky, going after the caravan train the way she had. It belonged to a merchant prince, a common sight here in the free lands across the sea; passing through the city in the middle of the day, it was an easy target. Except she had been careless, and one of the guards had noticed the skinny girl plundering one of the baggage carts containing silks and jewels ripe for the picking.
And now she was surrounded, clutching a bag of rubies in one hand and a fistful of diamond jewelry in the other. The guards had lowered their spears, and one of them shoved the point of his toward her throat.
"Come on, you little wench. Drop the jewels before I open that pretty throat of yours." His cohorts laughed; Emanuelle didn't find the prospect particularly funny. She swallowed thickly, eyes darting every which way, looking for an opening, a way she could slither out of this like her partner would. She was about to try and rush one of the scrawnier-looking guards when her ears caught an urgent pounding of hooves. The guards didn't understand why a smile spread slowly across the thief's face, but they were certainly surprised when a youth with flaming red hair burst through their circle on a rather impressive-looking black stallion. Letting out the breath she'd been holding, Emanuelle shoved her spoils in her bag and stood her ground, and when the stallion and rider were almost upon her, she wrapped an arm around the beast's broad chest, using it as leverage to swing up, impossibly, legs kicking up and around and placing herself firmly on the beast's back with a heavy jolt through her spine. Laughter bubbled up from her throat as the two made a swift getaway, and she glanced back at the astonishment on the guards' faces. None of them had mounts, and before anyone could really act accordingly, the pair were gone.
"How did—oh, Gods, how did you find me?"
They hadn't exchanged a word until they dismounted on the edge of the town, outside the little cottage the pair called home; they'd ridden hard and fast down narrow, cobbled streets, zig-zagging this way and that. The stallion, poor beast, was lathered and heaving for breath when Kurama gave him a carrot from his pocket, a pat on the muzzle, and then a healthy slap on the hindquarters which sent the beast wheeling back in the direction they'd come. Then he turned to his wife.
"I was prowling the rooftops. It wasn't hard to pick such a commotion out, even from streets away. The whole caravan had stopped, and it was easy to find the reason for it. I wasn't expecting to see my lady surrounded by guardsmen, though." He ushered her inside, after quickly scanning the quiet lane they called home for followers.
Emanuelle collapsed into a chair, pushing sweaty hair away from her face, and glanced up to gauge Kurama's mood by his expression. "It was...foolish of me. I was too brash, I should have been more aware of my surroundings."
He shook his head. "I told you, never take on more than you can handle...but I'm glad you're okay." He bent and placed a kiss atop her head, and she sighed.
"I'm damn lucky you were paying attention. Where did you find the horse, anyway?" It had been awhile since she'd ridden such a fine mount, that was for sure. Kurama shrugged.
"He was tied very carelessly outside a winesink. It would have been a crime not to borrow him. Especially since it meant coming to the rescue of such a lovely maiden."
She snorted. "If I'm a maiden, you're a fishwife." She reached into her bag and pulled out the spoils. "Anyway, I didn't come away empty-handed." Kurama let out a low whistle, nodding his approval.
"Not bad at all. And to think, I wanted to try and make an honest living."
They both laughed, and Emanuelle set about putting together their evening meal. This was about as normal as things ever were, but she didn't think she'd trade it for the world.
lady_flamewing. ♥She may have been a little over her head this time.
Emanuelle had been getting braver and better, dipping her hand here and there and gradually pulling off thievery of a higher caliber. True, she wasn't as good as her partner-in-crime yet, nor was she likely ever to be, but she had some small natural skill in it. Peculiar, for a princess, but then she'd always been peculiar for a princess. When she used to be one, anyway.
But this time, it appeared she had gone too far, too fast. She didn't fear recognition; darkened hair and peasant's garb ensured she looked little like Princess Shoshanna to anyone who had never seen her properly. What she did fear, however, was being thrown in a dingy gaol to rot away, or perhaps the loss of a hand for her theft. In retrospect, it was risky, going after the caravan train the way she had. It belonged to a merchant prince, a common sight here in the free lands across the sea; passing through the city in the middle of the day, it was an easy target. Except she had been careless, and one of the guards had noticed the skinny girl plundering one of the baggage carts containing silks and jewels ripe for the picking.
And now she was surrounded, clutching a bag of rubies in one hand and a fistful of diamond jewelry in the other. The guards had lowered their spears, and one of them shoved the point of his toward her throat.
"Come on, you little wench. Drop the jewels before I open that pretty throat of yours." His cohorts laughed; Emanuelle didn't find the prospect particularly funny. She swallowed thickly, eyes darting every which way, looking for an opening, a way she could slither out of this like her partner would. She was about to try and rush one of the scrawnier-looking guards when her ears caught an urgent pounding of hooves. The guards didn't understand why a smile spread slowly across the thief's face, but they were certainly surprised when a youth with flaming red hair burst through their circle on a rather impressive-looking black stallion. Letting out the breath she'd been holding, Emanuelle shoved her spoils in her bag and stood her ground, and when the stallion and rider were almost upon her, she wrapped an arm around the beast's broad chest, using it as leverage to swing up, impossibly, legs kicking up and around and placing herself firmly on the beast's back with a heavy jolt through her spine. Laughter bubbled up from her throat as the two made a swift getaway, and she glanced back at the astonishment on the guards' faces. None of them had mounts, and before anyone could really act accordingly, the pair were gone.
"How did—oh, Gods, how did you find me?"
They hadn't exchanged a word until they dismounted on the edge of the town, outside the little cottage the pair called home; they'd ridden hard and fast down narrow, cobbled streets, zig-zagging this way and that. The stallion, poor beast, was lathered and heaving for breath when Kurama gave him a carrot from his pocket, a pat on the muzzle, and then a healthy slap on the hindquarters which sent the beast wheeling back in the direction they'd come. Then he turned to his wife.
"I was prowling the rooftops. It wasn't hard to pick such a commotion out, even from streets away. The whole caravan had stopped, and it was easy to find the reason for it. I wasn't expecting to see my lady surrounded by guardsmen, though." He ushered her inside, after quickly scanning the quiet lane they called home for followers.
Emanuelle collapsed into a chair, pushing sweaty hair away from her face, and glanced up to gauge Kurama's mood by his expression. "It was...foolish of me. I was too brash, I should have been more aware of my surroundings."
He shook his head. "I told you, never take on more than you can handle...but I'm glad you're okay." He bent and placed a kiss atop her head, and she sighed.
"I'm damn lucky you were paying attention. Where did you find the horse, anyway?" It had been awhile since she'd ridden such a fine mount, that was for sure. Kurama shrugged.
"He was tied very carelessly outside a winesink. It would have been a crime not to borrow him. Especially since it meant coming to the rescue of such a lovely maiden."
She snorted. "If I'm a maiden, you're a fishwife." She reached into her bag and pulled out the spoils. "Anyway, I didn't come away empty-handed." Kurama let out a low whistle, nodding his approval.
"Not bad at all. And to think, I wanted to try and make an honest living."
They both laughed, and Emanuelle set about putting together their evening meal. This was about as normal as things ever were, but she didn't think she'd trade it for the world.
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