In wartime, any piece of heaven is appreciated. For Gaius, thief extraordinaire and dessert connoisseur, that's a slice of chocolate mousse cake, or apple pie, or even a simple taffy. 'Cause life's short. Why go through it all bitter and mopey?
Sweet and sugary not only tastes better but also feels better. Like a hot bath in winter. Like an intelligence run gone right.
Like lying on your back under the cool shade of a willow tree, hiding from the oppressive sun on a humid summer's day.
He takes the obligatory lollipop out of his mouth, flicks the stick into the grass several paces away. A light breeze hums over and into his skin. Nice. The branches and leaves of the tree obscure the sky above him, offering small peeks at blue here and there as they sway.
Also nice.
I could die right here, right now, he thinks. No one would care. He himself wouldn't even care. This is the life he had always meant to live. Even amid chaos, darkness, the perpetual threat of death—it's all good. His pockets are lined with sweets, his existence rolled in swaths of Mother Nature's silky smooth embrace.
Just let me die, right here, right now. At peace, at home. A short drift away, and I'm there….
Gaius dozes off, awakened occasionally by the sound of fellow soldiers laughing as they stroll past, by the distant clinking of heavy armor and swords against each other. Interweaving the encampment's melody is a new voice; well, both new and old. His left eye twitches at the memory of red hair and persuasive smiles. Gods damn that damned…damned…
"Robber Baron," he intones, lazily opening one eye to address the figure hovering over his supine form. She's got a curious expression on her both-familiar-and-not-familiar face, all eyes and nose and lips and tricks.
"Pardon?" Anna asks, tilting her head to the side. Her ponytail shifts with her movements, and Gaius closes his eyes—eye—again.
"Go away. I don't want to talk to you."
"Why?" He hears the earnestness in her voice, the slight inhale of breath. "I don't believe we've met."
"Yeah. I'd like to keep it that way."
"I'm Anna." He imagines she's holding her hand out for a shake.
"I know what you're doing, Robber Baron. And no, I don't want to buy anything from you."
"I'm not making a sale. Just your acquaintance."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Fine." He sits up suddenly, and blood rushes to his head, rendering him momentarily dizzy. "Ugh."
"Are you alright?"
"I'm Gaius. Now leave me alone." He fishes another lollipop from his cloak and scoots backward on the grass until he's leaning against the trunk of the tree. He stuffs the candy into his mouth. Lemon. "Ah. Hits the spot."
"You're very funny," Anna says. She makes herself comfortable next to him, brushing invisible dirt from her pants. "I would like for us to be friends."
"No." He looks down the hill. There's a lake at the bottom, and he'd very much like to swim right now.
"I don't have many yet. I'm new."
"I figured."
"Yeah."
A silence falls and stretches for a few minutes. Gaius tries not to think about how uncomfortable it is to have a stranger sit under his tree, invade his personal death wish. Gods, can't he have one nice thing in his life?
"Look, if you're trying to sell me something, forget it. I'm not buying from you or your ilk ever. Ever."
"My 'ilk'? What's that supposed to mean?"
He turns his head, looks her in the eyes. They're brown. "I don't trust you, Robber Baron."
"'Robber Baron'? You said it again! Why do you call me that?"
"Because that's what you and your sisters are. You're Robber Barons. You steal from the poor to benefit your own rich…ness."
"Uh huh. Interesting, interesting. And this is an accusation coming from a thief of great renown."
"'Great renown'? Why, thank you." He smirks, and she raises her eyebrows, unimpressed.
"Seriously. What's your problem with me?"
"What's my problem with you?"
"Yes! Why are you being so openly hostile to a friendly stranger? Are you like this towards all women?" She narrows her eyes. "Is this another Lon'qu situation, because if it is—"
"Let me tell you a story, Robber Baron, about somebody you may know."
She crosses her legs. "…Okay."
"Long, long ago, I used to be a blacksmith. Well, a blacksmith's apprentice. I was seventeen. I had just finished my apprenticeship when my mentor up and died. His wife had always had a bit of a thing for me, which is totally reasonable since I'm unbelievably sexy and irresistible—Nuh uh! Don't interrupt!" He holds up a hand, and Anna's open mouth, after a brief struggle, closes.
"Anyway, like I was saying, she tried to get me to take over his shop, but I didn't feel comfortable with her hitting on me all the time. Who would? I was just seventeen. Chicks were throwing themselves at me left and right." He holds up his hand again. "I wasn't about to be stuffed into some old lady's purse. So I did what any seventeen-year-old boy would do. I left to find my own place in the world. Figured I'd be a valuable asset to anyone who needed a smith.
"But I was wrong. Most places didn't need my talents. I started going from market stall to market stall begging for work or my next meal. And guess who I came across, who decided to take me on in exchange for a crate of pies."
"One of my sisters?"
"Yep. One of your sisters. Anna." Gaius gives the girl a once-over, withholding the urge to scoff. "She looked just like you but younger. And she agreed to give me all those yummy pies if I helped her forge her customers' weapons for a full day. I agreed. Why wouldn't I? I was young and hungry. Even though some of the customers asked for upgrades I had never attempted, I did them anyway and to great effect, too. By the end of the day I was sweating and starving, and your sister gave me that crate of pies, promising they were fresh and delicious. And from what I could tell when I lifted the lid, they were."
"So…"
"But they weren't. Not all of those pies were fresh. Most, practically all, were stale! Your sister had stacked them very strategically. The top two layers of pies were fresh. The bottom four? Stale. Inedible. Disgusting. She had ripped me off a day's worth of labor in exchange for a crate of mostly stale pies." He leans in until he can smell jasmine. "Robber Baron."
The corners of Anna's lips pull upward. "Wow. I'm sorry to hear of such an oversight on her part, Gaius—"
"'Oversight'? 'Oversight'? It was not an 'oversight'! It was an intentional attempt to dump her unusable stock upon an innocent, gullible boy. So, two words," he holds up two fingers, "Robber Baron. Also, I never trusted any one of you again from that day on. Ever."
"I'm so sorry to hear about the poor service. That is mighty bad for our reputation. I'll have to talk to my sister about it. In the meantime, perhaps I could make it up to you myself?" She nudges his shoulder with her own. "Plus interest?"
"Pah! Hell no. You think I'd strike another deal with you devils? In your dreams." He scoots away from her, and she stubbornly follows.
"Aw, c'mon! It's easy. I'll give you all those pies you were cheated out of, plus chocolate. No strings attached."
"Tempting." Very tempting. Almost too tempting to resist. Yet no, he couldn't do it. He's no prostitute. He can't be bought. Well, technically he can but not for this. Not about this. This incident started the chain of injustices he had had to endure in the following years. If he doesn't hold onto the bitterness, then he has no explanation for what, for who he's become.
He's gotta make a point.
"But no."
"But Gaius—"
"No 'but Gaius'!" He stands, and again, blood rushes to his head. He places a hand against the tree trunk, presses the heel of his palm against his eyes. "Ugh…just no. No. I don't trust you. Don't talk to me."
With those final words, he turns and stomps away in righteous indignation. It makes him feel childish, bull-headed, but hey. You can't be the bigger man every day. That, and the candy, would probably give him ulcers.
Meanwhile Anna, amused, watches him go. She had just spent the entire afternoon convincing one soldier after another to buy at least one thing or another from her store of wares. What's one reluctant customer out of a hundred?
She uncrosses her legs, puts a finger to her chin.
Still, she thinks, it would be nice to place him upon the Reluctant-Turned-Loyal-Customer Trophy Case. Gods, that would be sweet! Besides the sonata of gold jingling in her pocket, nothing thrills her quite like making a difficult sale. It's just a matter of moves and countermoves. Like playing chess, which she has always excelled at, or dueling. Not with swords but with the mind and with words.
She stretches herself out beneath the willow tree, closing her eyes to the sights of summer. Plans start to take shape in her brain; schemes. And not just about luring Gaius in. This is wartime, and in wartime people are weak. People are desperate.
In wartime, people throw their money away. What's the use of hoarding money during one's potential last days? Best spend it all on luxuries you had never dared purchase before. You may never get another chance!
With these thoughts dancing across her neural pathways, she dozes off, dreaming of her mountain of riches, her spoils of war, and a very tall stack of stale pies.
A/N: I hate that these two never had any support conversations. I really think they would've made a fantastic couple, what with him being a thief and she being a gold hungry merchant. Ah, what chaos would have ensued!
Reviews appreciated!
