Well this was awkward.
Some idiot, Xayah guessed the fat one with the beard walking away from the buffet table with a satisfied smile – had spiked the punch, and due to it, there was now a disoriented Lhotlan prince draped across her lap. Moreover, despite the fact that her reflexes had saved her from deadlier fates in the past, they had seen fit to sit back and laugh as he slumped against her mid-sentence.
A pity, he'd been tolerable company before things went south. It had only taken a particular sway of her hips to beckon him over, which wasn't a trait she'd normally attribute to an advocate of the people. He'd been in the middle of listing the service projects he had lined up next year focused in the lower quarters when his hand gestures became less controlled, threatening to knock his chalice off the table. A few more gulps had him nearly falling out of his chair as he described the members of the high council who opposed his ideas as 'grumpy old men,' before attempting mimic them with decrepit acting.
To an extent, it had been to her advantage. She'd latched teasingly onto his arm, expelling a small giggle while unfastening the cuff links from his sleeves below the level of the tablecloth. The next drink brought a glow to his face similar to the illuminated tree in the banquet hall, and while it made it easy to slip the rings from his gloved fingers, she'd known to edge out of her chair when he smiled and leaned in exceptionally close, comparing her eyes to a summer's day.
It's the middle of winter, you dolt. She resisted the urge to snap. She'd promised to be civil. She'd promised to try.
More fool she. The whole reason she was here was out of guilt, given the fact that Ahri had fallen ill the night before and they might not be able to eat next month if no one could take her place.
Now an unfortunate victim to a string of relentless compliments, Xayah decided she was going to find the one with the beard after this was finished and quietly impale them, because while her mission goals were mostly being met, she hadn't signed up to serve as some – some pretty boy's armrest.
Headrest.
Xayah's social graces were mediocre at best. Would it be appropriate to leave him be, she wondered? She didn't especially want to touch him any more than what it would take to quietly pluck the pins from his coat, but he was quite heavy, and still in her lap and–
The soft exhale of his laughter breezed against her exposed neck, sending a chill up her spine and her talons curling into the floor. The brooch she'd taken from his cravat threatened to fall from her grip before she could pocket it, warmth from her stomach rising to her cheeks.
Betrayed by reflex and body, Xayah inhaled sharply.
That was it.
She was never dealing with royalty again. Ever.
The thief could only blink as an equally well-dressed nobleman materialized by the table, expression warring between fear and resignation as the prince managed a too-cheerful greeting without falling completely onto the floor.
Shaking his head, the Shimon representative grabbed the prince by the arm, leading him away with a muttered apology in Xayah's general direction. Golden eyes followed the pair, watching in veiled amusement as the prince was presented with a phial filled with faintly red liquid. For the first time in her life, watching the effect of a healing potion was entertaining.
Xayah chose to permit the corner of her lips curling upwards as Prince Rakan looked from her, to Duke Something-or-Other, to the empty phial in his hands, to her, and back again, and – Ah.
Perhaps, she noted with a tinge of satisfaction as he brushed past her – feathers ruffled and irate as he crossed the ballroom towards the plump man unashamedly drinking from a full cask – she wouldn't have to impale anyone after all.
If appearances were anything to go by, the prince was about to do it for her.
Xayah took one last sip from her own chalice and and let her smile grow. The increasingly desperate shouts for help were a prime opportunity for her well-earned disappearance. She noiselessly snuck behind the line of spectators that had gathered to watch, finding the nearest terrace to make her exit.
Noiselessly shutting the doors behind her, Xayah considered that perhaps there might be something to this 'social life' sort of thing as she rappelled down into the gardens.
But more likely, it was the wine.
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Xayah was hungover.
Very, very hungover, which made whatever the hell was tapping on her window even more of a nuisance.
"What?!" she nearly screeched, launching her pillow at the glass in futility. She rolled over in her bed, enduring another minute of incessant tapping before finally deciding to address it. Trudging over to the window, she unhooked the latch to reveal a messenger bird tilting its head at her. She blinked as the small creature took a few hops onto her bookshelf away from the cold, urging her to take the letter between its beak.
Giving a brief thank you in its native tongue, she suddenly recognized the royal seal stamped in wax.
A wave of nausea hit her. Had she been caught? Were they in some sort of danger?
Shaky hands tearing at the envelope, she unfolded a wanted poster from within, her own likeliness illustrated in portrait. The prince seemed to have a good memory, as the details of her hairpiece and gown were spot-on. He'd given her a much prettier expression than the one she wore currently, hair disheveled and face pale as she began to read:
Wanted – "Lovely Rogue"
For the crime of stealing the Prince Rakan's heart.
Reward: The dance I never offered you, and any gem of your choosing from the heirlooms taken, fashioned into a ring for your left hand at a later date.
Xayah read the statement again, and then a third time, slower, to be absolutely certain she hadn't mistaken anything.
Then, she laughed, shaking her head all the while.
Giving the messenger bird a pat on the head, she allowed it to perch atop her desk to wait as she contrived her reply. It gave a startled jump as the bag of jewels landed with a thump nearby for her possible consideration.
Fetching parchment and a quill from the drawer, Xayah sat down and began thinking of a more articulate way to say, try harder.
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Happy holidays! This was written for the Bard Secret Santa exchange as a gift for isaboutime on Tumblr!
The original prompt I was given to work with was: Rakan/Xayah AU, where Rakan is a prince at a ball and Xayah is a thief, inspired by the phrase, "The thief had stolen more than just jewels at the ball that night - she'd stolen the prince's heart, too."