Honor Among the Banished//Ororo & Tony (Medieval Fantasy AU)
She shivered. It was so damn cold and her torn sheepskin cloak was not helping in the slightest. There was no way she would risk moving, not with the possibility of being found and hanged lingering over her head. Ororo reached into her sack and pulled out the golden sapphire beaded bracelet along with a sealed letter. Mesmerized with thoughts of the amount of money she could get for the jewelry alone, however it was the letter that had been the real prize. The country was at war, whichever side won would shape how the land would be run. Frankly she didn’t care all that much. Fresh food, good wine, a roof to sleep under. That was what was important to her. With handing over that letter to Lord Essex, things would increase exponentially for her.
All she had to do was make it out of Starkworth to Essexton. Once her mission was over, she would catch the next voyage to Barbossi. A city infested with the scum of society; mercenaries, prostitutes, murders, thieves, and opportunity. Exactly the place for her. She could build a new life, start fresh.
Orphaned at a young age, Ororo had found herself fighting and struggling for a better life every waking moment. She had become a nomad, traveling from land to land, stealing from place to place, doing what she had to to survive. It wasn’t until she had met Jean-Luc, a notorious thief and nobleman in his own right, that she learned how to rob from the rich and fill her own pockets. And who better to steal from than one of the wealthiest family in the kingdom.
The sound of twigs breaking caused her to freeze. So perhaps her plan hadn’t been as foolproof as she had initially thought. It had taken nearly a year of scooping out the castle and finding the best entrance and escape route. Only to have it come crumbling due to a lack in hindsight of accounting for the family pet. Fucking dog! The blasted creature had caught her off guard. She knew it was a favorite of Lord Stark. Yet she had not thought it to have been in the master bedroom.
Stuffing the goods away, she stood. If Ororo was going to hide than she needed to find a better spot. The baker’s house was too exposed and a farm would be far too obvious. Plus there was too much opened land between the village and the forest. She stepped out into the night, creeping as carefully as possible through the streets. In the distance she could see the glowing orange light of the local blacksmith’s furnace. The only one to likely be up at such a godforsaken hour. It would be foolish to think anyone would help hide her. Especially not a man whom she had only meet twice and had stolen from in the past. However the clinking of chain-mail and heaving of dogs found Ororo running toward the burning light.
Damnit! She was going to get caught! DAMNIT!
She nearly fell in the gravel outside the smith’s place, catching herself just barely. Looking up she caught the sight of a dark haired man, hammer in one hand, some form of metal in the other. Likely working on some knights armor or another. Yet what halted her was the fact that whoever he was, he was not the owner of the shop.
No that man had been much older. Short in stature with a scar that ran along his left eye. She remembered his face well, she remembered all faces of everyone she had ever stolen from. The blacksmith...Ororo had taken an extremely well made knife, probably the best work the old goat had ever done in his entire life. Perfectly balanced, comfortable handle. It had been as if the weapon had been made specifically for her. She contemplated reaching for it that very moment. Kill whoever the heck this man was before he alerted the others.
Ororo halted in her thoughts upon hearing her pursuers closing in. Her eyes pleaded with him, hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t give her away, cursing the situation she was in.
Standing there, she mouthed only two words. “Help me.”
