#thief 2014

The manor had been in a state of controlled chaos since the sun rose that morning.

Servants, wait staff and several others hurried to and fro down the halls, all feelings of a strange presence inhabiting the building set aside. Polished silver trays balancing fine glassware were deftly carried around obstacles alongside bouquets of flowers, candlesticks and enough expensive fabric to make a tailor’s eyes water. Heady smells of food permeated throughout the place as the cooks took complete control over the kitchen.

Baron and Lady Northcrest had poured over the guest list for several days, making absolutely sure the invitations were heading out to the right people as there were going to be a few the Baron was bound to rub elbows with. And possibly squeeze a few extra coins from. 

A string quartet rehearsed the same song for the fifth time before picking it back up for another go around. They’d been pulling this same maneuver for the past two hours, much to Elizabeth’s annoyance. Wanting to just stay well out of the way of everyone involved, Lizzie had opted to remain in her chambers while the manor got itself ready for a host of visitors.

Merchants, a handful of lesser nobles, military officers and city officials were planning to be in attendance. Things were likely not going to conclude until well after midnight. And Elizabeth’s presence was a must. The Thief Taker General was also going to arrive along with a posse of Watchmen as his escort later in the evening. Elizabeth repressed a shudder as she recalled the man’s clammy, large hand enveloping hers several nights back. It was true that he did favor the younger feminine sex, given that Elizabeth had ties– albeit distant – to the Northcrest estate, he was inclined to pursue.

If the courtship ever did take off, Elizabeth knew that horrid man would be frequenting brothels almost every night they’d be together. She didn’t quite fancy that life for herself. Imagining that foul creature crawling over her skin was enough to make her leap up from her vanity where she’d been trying to place a set of semi precious emeralds upon her ears. Her hair had since been pulled up into partial updo, with bobby pins already poking at her scalp. As much as she loathed these events, Lizzie did enjoy getting dressed up. Even if it was for the wrong crowd.

Charlotte remained absent, having sworn she’d return to help Lizzie into tonight’s attire nearly an hour ago. Itching to move and do something with herself, Elizabeth threw off her dressing robe into a fresh chemise before handling the main gown. The fabric rippled like water in her hands and practically glowed as the candlelight caught it. The dark green hue was quite beautiful and could’ve easily paid a family of four at least six months with how much it cost. 

Thankfully, this wasn’t a piece Lizzie had purchased herself. It was a pretty hand-me-down from the Lady Northcrest who assured Lizzie no one would’ve remembered her wearing the old thing. After a few quick alterations completed by Charlotte and their seamstress, Mrs. Pembroke, the evening gown had been spruced up with bits of new lace, beadwork and threading.

Lizzie stepped into its skirts, easing the cool fabric up past her hips and slid her arms through the sleeves. When she finished fussing with the dress and settling it into place, she began to work at the corset. Elizabeth reached behind herself, fingertips just brushing the laces. Frowning, she twisted to the other side and tried again. No luck.

All right. Don’t panic here. You’ve dressed yourself a million times over before…

But those were with a different style of corset. One that was able to be fitted over the dress and tied from the front. Then there were the ones with buttons which took quite a bit of figuring out.

Determined, Elizabeth stood in front of her long mirror with her back facing the thing and twisted and turned to no avail. Charlotte still had yet to return and probably wouldn’t until just before the event began.

Lizzie cursed her lack of flexibility and continued to strain herself before stopping for a break, sitting on the edge of her immaculately made bed. She briefly entertained the idea of asking another servant for assistance but decided against it for now. Knowing her luck, she’d likely pull in a hapless young man who’d balk at her state of dress or lack thereof. 

When there was a soft knocking sound of knuckles against wood, Elizabeth tiredly, exasperated, said, “Come in.” Perhaps it was Charlotte this time who–

Wait, her bedroom door wasn’t opening. Which meant–

Her head whipped around in time to see the balcony door she’d cracked open for a bit of air swing back a bit to allow a tall dark figure past its threshold. Garrett closed it shut behind him, his dual colored gaze already sweeping her room for any perceived threats. They finally rested on the partially dressed woman who had since stood up, a look of mild disbelief crossing her face.

“You look…” His eyes flicked down and back up. Elizabeth arched a brow.

“Expensive?” she supplied, shifting the fabric to keep her shoulders covered.

“I was going to say ridiculous but let’s go with your suggestion.” He tugged down his facemask before striding across the parquet flooring. His walk looked relaxed, confident, but she knew full well it could change at the drop of a hat. “No Charlotte tonight?” he asked, lingering near the foot of her bed.

Elizabeth shrugged. “She’s currently kidnapped by the gala. I only remained out of its clutches by staying high up in my tower.”

“Oh? And how’s that been working out?” Garrett lightly braced a shoulder against one of the wooden poles denoting the canopy held over her mattress. Elizabeth all but bared her teeth at him in an attempt at a smile. It looked more like a grimace.

“Well, I’ve unfortunately encountered an… engineering problem.” She half turned her back to the thief, and gestured at the loose laces dangling there like a limp spider’s web. “I’m beginning to suspect whoever invented these blasted things thoroughly loved testing one’s patience.” Lizzie raised a hand upward as though she wanted to rake her fingers through her hair but checked the motion quickly, dropping it back to her side as she looked to the thief.

“Would you, ah, mind… helping me?” She loathed the embarrassment that flooded her system and knew her face was turning a lovely shade of red. Garrett stood there for a breath as though considering his options. Without another word, he pushed off from her bed and tugged off his fingerless gloves, setting them down on the comforter. The motion seemed nonchalant but Elizabeth reasoned most others wouldn’t have thought ahead like that.

Bare hands would snag the fabric or catch on the silk. It was yet another small bit of kindness he bestowed upon her.

“Let’s move a little more towards the light. Now, turn around,” he instructed.

“Sure the flames won’t burn you away?” Elizabeth teased but did as he asked. Truth be told, having such a notorious blackhand inches behind her caused her back to stiffen a fraction. It was a strange feeling. She trusted Garrett wouldn’t slip her a knife through the ribs or otherwise take advantage of her. Frankly, she couldn’t remember a time when she allowed a man this close.

Garrett’s fingers soon found the laces, jarring her from her thoughts. He lightly scoffed, his breath ghosting the back of her neck. The skin there turned to gooseflesh.

“You’ve managed to tangle these,” he commented.

“That explains why I was having a hard time reaching them.”

“How long did you say you were at this? It takes an amount of…” He paused, searching for the word.

“Determinedness?” Elizabeth suggested.

Garrett scoffed again, carefully detangling the thin pieces of fabric. “I was going to say stubbornness but sure.” Once the task of returning the laces to their original state was complete, Garrett began tugging them back into place.

Outside her door, what felt like a thin veil between Elizabeth and the thief from the rest of the world, servants could be heard thumping down the halls alongside murmured conversations and complaints.

“Hold still,” she heard the thief whisper almost distractedly.

“I am.”

“You’re moving.”

“I’m breathing.”

“That still counts as moving.”

“I must be able to breathe a little if I am to survive tonight.”

That earned her another huff of laughter.

They fell back into their usual routine of chatter as though an entire year had passed between them. Garrett’s fingers worked on the corset, loosening here and tightening a bit here while she tested the fitting.

“You’ve done this before,” Elizabeth observed. Surely, he’d lain with other women prior to meeting her. Which was all well and good when one wasn’t falling for the infamous Master Thief.

“For armor,” came his reply. “The principles are the same though I gather the soldiers complain less.” His nimble fingers quickly pulled the laces through a bow before getting tucked away out of sight. “There.”

The Aristo placed her hands just above her navel and inhaled experimentally. Gods, he was even better at this than Charlotte was.

“Comfortable?” he asked, pulling his gloves back on as Elizabeth turned to face him.

“Remarkably so. Thank you, Master Thief.”

Garrett merely dipped his head. “My pleasure.”

Elizabeth studied him for a moment. His nightly visits had become more frequent, even when she ventured out into the city proper. She hadn’t mentioned it. Hadn’t dared to for fear of disrupting any of this. Some evenings she’d hear that quiet knock against the balcony glass only minutes after wondering if he’d come. Other nights he wouldn’t appear at all. There was hardly a pattern to his movements and yet he kept creeping in past the manor’s defenses. Just like that first night when she came upon him inside the library.

She hoped, foolishly so, that this wasn’t entirely by chance.

“I should go.” The thief’s voice drew her back to the present.

“Client job?” Elizabeth smoothed down the front of her dress.

“Something like that.” The facemask was pushed back into place as he neared the balcony. Just as he was about to leave, the thief took one more look at her. This one lingered far longer than the first when he arrived. Elizabeth felt an overwhelming shyness hit her as his gaze met hers. “Have a good night, Lizzie. Try not to stab anyone.” With that, he was up and over the balcony and back into the darkness.

–

Hours later, the gala finally concluded. Thank the Builder.

Elizabeth collapsed face first across her velvet coverlet with all the grace of a beached whale. Her tired moans muffled by the coverlet further enhanced the impression. One of her shoes had been kicked off by her wardrobe. The other still clung stubbornly to the balls of her feet, hanging on through sheer spite.

Her poor hair lost its battle with the pins several dances ago, loose strands sticking out in places making her look crazed. She mercifully escaped dancing with Thaddeus for tonight. Turning her head to the side, Elizabeth blearily made out the time. It was two hours past midnight. It was no small wonder she was so tired.

There was a knock on the wood, announcing someone’s presence, and Elizabeth bit back another groan.

“Go away. Please,” she pleaded. “I am much too tired and will just sleep in my attire tonight, thank you.”

“Hm. I take it tonight was a success?”

“Wha–?” Startled, Elizabeth pushed herself into an upright position then regretted the quick motion. Her back twinged something awful, making her plop right back down onto the coverlet. Garrett skillfully turned his bout of laughter into a cough. Elizabeth, now recovering from his sudden appearance, mumbled out a reply into the mattress.

“What was that?”

“I said…” She heaved herself onto her back, letting her dress and legs dangle off the side of her bed. “If one more elderly lord asks if I paint landscapes or talk about his spoon collection, I am going to throw myself wholeheartedly into the ornamental fountain out back.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I was considering it.”

“You’d have ruined your dress.”

“That’s a sacrifice I’d be willing to make.” She looked over to where the thief was standing, his shadowed gaze looking rather bemused. “Garrett, I know absolutely too much about the different types of spoons one man can collect over a period of two and a half decades.”

The casual usage of his name, said in such a pitying tone, nearly caused a genuine smile to appear on his face. His attention then dropped to her abandoned shoe, its twin steadily hanging on and her state of unpleasantness.

“Need rescuing?” Garrett offered. Elizabeth’s eyes rolled about, taking in her rather unladylike demeanor, before nodding once. Her ghostly companion stretched out both hands and effortlessly pulled her upright, drawing a startled, “Oh!” from the woman. One of her hands released his only to brace itself against his chest in an effort to regain her balance. She still wobbled a bit.

“I think my legs have forgotten how walking goes again,” she commented, letting out a weak laugh. Garrett only let her go as soon as he was certain she wasn’t about to topple over with the next breeze.

“I’m sure they’ll remember soon.” His tone was light. Teasing.

“Let’s hope they do. Otherwise, it’s going to be a damnable long night,” she groused.

–

Later that same night, Garett descended back into the bowels of the Crippled Burrick. Basso’s “office”, if you could call such a thing, occupied one portion in the middle. Shelves of ledgers, crates of questionable merchandise and three bottles of untouched liquor were scattered about.

The fence barely looked up when he entered, quill quickly scratching away at a page. Basso placed it back in the inkpot after a moment before standing to address his partner. A small velvet pouch was dropped onto a page with, thankfully, dried ink. 

“The necklace, as promised,” came the thief who crossed his arms over his chest. Basso hefted the pouch in one hand, weighing it, and grinned.

“Good. Client’ll be pleased,” he replied before stowing it away in one of his many coat pockets. He proceeded to toss a few bread crumbs his carrier pigeon’s, Jenivere, way before turning back to Garrett. “You know…”

The thief immediately recognized that tone and quickly cut off Basso with a resounding, “No.”

Basso continued on unperturbed. “I’ve noticed something.” Garrett quietly glowered at him. The fence held up his inkstained hands in a peacemaking gesture. “You’ve started accepting an awful lot of jobs over in the Northern Quarter.”

“They pay well,” the thief answered evenly with a short shrug.

“That they do. And yet…” Basso tapped a fat index finger against his chin while side-eying his friend. “And yet, you’ve been turning away other well paying jobs south of the river.” He was thoroughly enjoying this little game, Garrett could tell. It was hard to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Odd thing, ain’t it.”

“Not really,” Garrett countered.

“No?”

“No.”

Basso folded his arms, cocking his head to the side. “Y’know what’s over in the North Quarter, Garrett?” He was met with silence. Basso grinned. “Northcrest Manor,” he said, answering his own question. “You’ve practically worn a path over to those rooftops. Got your own route and everything.”

The thief let out a long suffering sigh. “The rooftops are useful. You know this.”

“I’m certain they’re very useful.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you? You finished?”

The other man paused before shaking his head. “Not remotely, no.” His expression partially sobered up. “I’ve known you a long time, Garrett. I’ve watched you turn away potential, high paying heists from a number of folks over the years. Not to mention escaping a boatload of impossible situations. How you’re alive is beyond me.” 

“Basso. The point?” If Garrett didn’t head him off now, Basso would carry on with whatever winded lecture he had set up. It was high time for the Master Thief to turn in.

“The point being that your habit’s changed.”

Garrett’s eyes narrowed a fraction as the fence continued. “You leave quicker. Used to linger.” Basso gestured about the cellar then. 

“We’d argue.”

“You’d complain about my prices,” the thief retorted.

“I’d complain about your prices,” Basso agreed then pointed a finger at him. “You’d steal my biscuits.”

“I still steal your biscuits. You might want to check your supplier on the quality.”

“Aye, yeah, you do. Lately, though?” He nodded his head toward the stairs. “You’re always looking at the door.”

“I have work.”

“Eh.” Basso shrugged. “If you ask me, you’ve started to act like someone might be waiting up for you.”

Garrett went to answer but stopped. The observation landed harder than he expected. He couldn’t rightly tell his friend he was wrong because… he wasn’t. He’d often found himself, especially since he returned, if the light in her room had already been extinguished. If the balcony door was unlatched. He hadn’t intended for her to become part of his routine but here he was.

The fence gave him a toothy smile. “You know I’m right.”

“I’m leaving.”

“I figured.” Basso laughed again before yawning widely. “And Garrett?”

The thief stopped right at the cellar’s threshold, his head turned a fraction in Basso’s direction.

“It’s good to see you smiling a bit more often now.”

“And?” How was that something to celebrate?

“It suits you.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Please. I’d miss your brooding too much.”

“Good night, Basso.” Garrett’s tone had a level of finality to it that further proved the fence’s point.

“Night, Garrett. And give my regards to Miss Elizabeth.”

Her birth name is Ariel - she adopted the name Erin later in life.

She was born in Cyric and is descended from the last of the Keepers.

Her ancestors were entrusted with the seal to the Keeper library in an effort to protect the secrets hidden there. It became a family heirloom, passed down from parent to child. However her mother fled the City with the seal as a young woman - supposedly she was trying to spite her family when she stole it; if she kept it, it was because she failed to pawn it off.

Erin's relationship with her parents was complicated; they had her more out of obligation than real desire. It was just the expected thing to do and she was by no means an easy baby.

Her relationship with her father was rocky and inconsistent; he taught her practical skills but he had abusive tendencies. Some days he could almost be a normal father who enjoyed teaching his daughter new things. Most days he was disinterested in her at best, outright abusive at worst.

Her mother tended to be emotionally distant and struggled to connect with her daughter at times due to depression. She never told her daughter anything about the Keepers or their lineage, and often spouted morose comments on the nature of her life, and how death would be preferable.

One night, her father beat her mother to the brink of death - Erin murdered him in an effort to protect her, which was the first seed of her murderous habits.

Her mother told her to escape Cyric before she could be arrested, and specifically told her to find her way to the City with the seal - her injuries had her confused and disoriented, so she wasn't able to properly elaborate why she should go there.

Erin had no real understanding of the significance of the City or her heritage - she just figured it had to be safer for her there if that was where her mother told her to go. She took what valuables she could find, such as her mother's necklace, and stowed away aboard a ship. She was only eight.

Her father's abuse and eventual fate was the source of her violent side - killing became a means of safety and control, and made her feel more powerful.

She came into Xiao's care during her first few months on the street and was given the name Primrose.

Unlike in canon, she killed a customer during her time as a Petal when she was about thirteen. He'd attempted to assault her and so she murdered him with a knife she'd stolen from the kitchens which she'd done to feel safer around the clients. She fled the House to avoid the consequences.

She went to Basso for help purely because he was the only person she actually knew in the City outside of the House of Blossoms. She discarded the names Ariel and Primrose to shake off any potential connection that Xiao might use to find her, and instead chose the name Erin for herself.

Garrett let her live in the Clocktower during the early years of her apprenticeship. It took her a while to choose to sleep anywhere but the rafters.

She moved into the Mill when she got to about sixteen and wanted more privacy. She'd been eyeing it for a while and figured it was perfect.

Her relationship with Garrett was probably the most stable and consistent relationship she'd ever had though it took her time to realise that his temper wasn't changeable like her father's. She began to view him as family, but as a big brother as opposed to a father figure given her negative experiences with fathers.

Erin was under the impression that she was eventually going to be Embraced one way or another, either by Xiao when she was in the House, or by Garrett when she was his apprentice. She wasn't ghouled as a kid because neither of them wanted to stunt her growth when she was still young and growing, but by the time she got to 16, she started pestering Garrett about blood. He's gonna make her a vampire eventually right, and they get into all sorts of trouble, she should probably get a start on having some vampire advantages.

He's super not into that because he doesn't want some artificially induced hanger on and he's not comfortable with the concept of ghouls anyway, but eventually Erin's fragile little mortal body starts getting her into trouble and he gives in and lets her have a little vitae. But not from the vein. He's trying to divorce some sense of attachment from the act of ghouling her and that's easier when her mouth isn't on his wrist. He has no idea it dilutes the emotional bonding aspect, so he's not sure what to make of it when Erin doesn't seem even more attached to him than she already is but he's relieved that it didn't make her weird.

Of course it still puts a nasty twist in the dissolution of their partnership because he's effectively cutting her off from a drug she's dependent on. Like any other ghoul, she's an addict for vitae and if she can't get it from him, she'll get it wherever she can find it which can create a Lot of problems. He tries not to think about it, figures that maybe Basso will pick up the slack for him and moves on—he's done being responsible for her so if she wants to play vampire so badly, she needs to find a new fix for herself.

unfortunately, uni and personal life prevent me from doing so :(((