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| Viewing Single Post From: A Chance Meeting | |
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| Fin | Jul 3 2009, 01:07 PM |
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Princess of Thieves
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She heard hooves passing her but her dark apparel and the dimness of the greedy stars did wonders for making her invisible. The petals had disappeared, dragged down to the dark abyss. She considered pitching the bottle of red wine over too, and just getting another. After all, it was free, as was the delectable food who's scent even at this distance threatened to lure the melancholy bandit back inside. A voice, even though familiar, made Fin snatch with enviable speed for her dagger. She had it in her hand, a threat before her eyes even met the man she was threatening. Ghash glinted in dim light, poison honey eyes met a single sea green orb, and slid over the other features. An eye patch, red hair, an a familiar blade scar... “Patrick? There was disbelief written all over her face. It couldn't be true, her mind must be played tricks as it had been during her escape when she'd seen and heard her father urging her away from the prison, coaxing and commanding her to run to safety. Was this another delusion? She set Ghash down beside his twin, beside her slippers and the nearly full bottle of whine. She reached over once more to accept the green handkerchief, “I wasn't...” She gave up denying the fact and rolled her eyes as if annoyed by her own self. Their hands brushed when she took the green hanky, and a smiled pulled at the corners of her lips. He was real. She took the handkerchief and wiped her face with surprising roughness. Stray salty tears were swept up by the green cloth and she handed it back to him. She had been about the threaten him to start running if he'd lost her ring when he drew the very item from a chain under his tunic. Her eyes fixed on it, her breath coming in sharply as she extended a hand to take it. Her nimble fingers raced to undo the clasp and let the ring rest in her palm. She turned in, reading in inscription before sliding it onto her finger. It was as if some huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She smiled, her black tail did not merely sway but twitch and thrashed, wagging happily. In a fluid flick of the wrist the silver chain found its way back around Patrick's neck. She used it to pull him down, so he was was forced to lean towards her. She leaned over too and kissed him briefly on the cheek, just a brush of the lips. She released the chain and at with her legs crossed, still dangling over the edge. She glanced down at her stockings, at the indecent shortness of her dress, and then out at the ocean. “Don't read too much into that, It was just a thank you...from a princess.” She laughed at the last bit, glancing over, “How's the Deathwatch? Does your captain know you're off at some party?” She still spoke in teasing tones, gripping the wine bottle by the neck and tipping the substance to her lips. In prison she had heard talks about the deathwatch and, after asking a kind hearted guard for details, he had shown her a few wanted posters. Patrick's face had been on one of them, or, had seemed to be. It was utterly inaccurate from her memory, in shape and features, except for an eye patch, and an intriguing sword scar. “Wanted for Piracy” It had said, signed at the bottom by one of the captains. She wanted him to forget she'd been crying- hell, she wanted to forget she'd been crying, and the cause. The band struck up another tune, slower, and her ears twitched as it met them. The parade of expensive dresses and dazzling gemstones was continuing inside. There was music and dancing and fine foods, but she was outside of it all. Where she belonged. To hell with where she belonged! She glanced over at Patrick again, looking in more detail at his clothing. Even he had done his best to dress up, though both of them faced that the other participants all out did them fantastically, be it by inches or miles. His green tunic nearly matched his eyes, as had the handkerchief. He'd even worn a vest! A glance down at his boots showed he'd spent a decent time shining them. Her gaze turned back to own outfit. There were runs in her stockings, and a small hole on the toes of her right foot. The bandages on her leg were tight, but visible. The bleeding had stopped on that one, at least. She was sure the ones on her back, and the ax wound to her shoulder would not be so easily healed. Her bangs, still long, fell into her face as she looked back out at the roaring ocean. “You clean up good, for a pirate.” |
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