Hidden Years
A.N: Hey ho to anyone who might remember me. Tis been too long since I've posted anything here, or ever written anything at all. College is a bit of a devourer of time I'm afraid. But now it is done for the summer and I hope to start up a few threads of unfinished business here, starting with this, which I promised myself to do literally years ago. I'm a bit wiser now, a little more experienced, and I know what reviews to heed and what to call Bull. I'm shamelessly proud of this concept, though maybe not the writing itself all of the time, and I hope a few of you will care to drop by and give the thing a read and review or such other nice/appreciated things. (Oh and for those of you who do remember me and vaguely remember something called the 'Hidden Years Series', yes, this fic is a re-hashed, pulled together version of that old nine-part and yet still unfinished series. Lord it's been so long...)
Cheers
Telaka
Chapter One – Fresh Slate
The night was growing old, dying away in a sky of ashen blue and then slowly turning back into a new crisp, cool dawn. A pale cast of light, the hue of a sickly yellow, filtered in haphazardly through the slither of maple and pine trees, offering up shafts of light from the new day into the dark, musky undergrowth here and there. Two pairs of well travelled and well scuffed feet trekked past piles of dead leaves and decaying stony pathways, seeking a certain way out to a certain way home. Well, one pair was at least. The other was confused, simply following blindly, before finally falling onto a pair of scabby knees in plain defeat.
A shadow-masked male of decent height and lean build turned back with mild concern evident only in the slightest glimmer of his menacing black eyes. Silently they stood out, set deep into a pale, rugged face. Only a small glare of eerie crimson iris surrounded tight by the ebony gaze showed any direction to his blasé stare at all.
"Y' all righ' petite?" he uttered coolly in a heavy, relaxed accent.
The second body, the one sat with crinkled knees buried in dead leaves, hurried back up in a flurry of red cheeks. The female, the very essence of enigmatic, with rare snowy white hair and azure eyes made most striking by her smooth dark skin, only nodded very slightly before she carried on walking again, silently. She was young, much younger than her companion, perhaps scarping into her teen years, though he was of no great wizened age himself.
In a couple of stretched strides she came back to his side and in turn as a favour he slowed down what had been quite a quick footed pace to begin with. He then put on what was rather a charismatic smile, despite his intimidating shadowed features, a charm emphasised by the catchy Cajun accent portraying smoothly spoken words. He somehow managed to put her at ease this way.
"Y' been awf'lly quiet der Stormy, ain' somet'ing ah did, was it, again?"
A scowl crossed the young girl's striking features. "You keep calling me that name and it will be, Gambit."
He nodded with his knowing smile still in place, as if to heed the sharp warning.
The foliage was thinning and civilization, or what it had built, was coming back into sight again. Their night's unbroken travels would soon be over and he could tell by the fatigue she so fantastically failed to hide that it was about time the walking came to an end. The conversation, however, did not .
"So, you a thief den chere."
She couldn't help but smirk, a gesture of the lips not as alluring as his smile but still not without its own childlike charm.
"And did you gather that by reputation or by your recent lack of what is a surprisingly light wallet?"
For a second Gambit - the only name she knew him by - stared blankly at her, and then slowly at his empty inside trench coat pocket. He quickly recovered with a wolfish grin.
"Ah'm impressed."
"Your guard is down."
"Mus' jus' be you den."
Banter stopped when one of civilisation's more ingenious and debatably annoying inventions, the road, came into view and greeted their weary feet. Fields of dry green accompanied it on the other side, with cows and sheep and the occasional free-range crow or sparrow. It was a country lane. The girl, known only to Gambit as Storm, sighed.
"And from here?"
"From 'ere we go yonder West, we walk a lil' more, an' den 'opefully we end up back at ma maison. Easy, non?"
She did not look entirely convinced, or impressed.
"So, you're a thief."
"You gather dat from de job ah was carryin' out, or de wallet ah took back?"
------------
It was rounding on two hold days almost now since the incident with the Shadowking, yet neither was entirely willing (if at all) to express the creeping liking they were beginning to feel for the other, and unnaturally fast. For their type, thieves and rogues, it was one of several unwritten rules that a liking, and thus trust, was only ever gained so quickly by family, and even then it was wise to be wary. Everyone else would all too soon be prepared to thieve back what was rightful seen as theirs, and most at any cost as well.
Honour amongst thieves was rare, gained only when lives were saved and personal sacrifices made. It would take a while for them both to fully realise that this was exactly what had been done already two days ago, on both behalves.
As a result of their instinctual wariness, however, talk remained vague, left for guesswork and to be taken back up in later conversations on later dates. Despite this neither stopped with the questions.
"So, wat were 'y doin' in dat big ol' fancy house back der wit you ol' mate Kingy?"
Storm looked upon this as an accusation. "Nothing! Nothing you're probably thinking of anyway…"
Gambit laughed half-heartedly. "Dats you goin' puttin' words in ma mouth there now chere. Jus' wonderin' how you went and gone and got you'self in such a tall order mess is all."
With this said Storm turned shame-faced, blushing gloriously once again across her small wrinkled nose. They began to climb a long, steep browed hill along the road. The sun lightly basked their backs as they went
"Sorry… I'm just, a little on edge, after… that, at the moment."
He nodded as he watched from a distance a crow cruise lazily by on a high, warm current of air.
"Dat's understandable." He then waited for his answer.
She thought in silence, then remembered, then frowned and pouted slightly.
"I, don't remember…"
Gambit watched the crow as it took a sharp angle on the wing and persisted to chase a lone sparrow and a prized meal of stolen bread crusts.
"Now surely you can come up wit a better 'xcuse dan dat."
"But it'sthe truth!"
He turned his full attention back onto her as she stopped abruptly on the curb and fixed her frustrated gaze on the gravely ground underfoot.
"I don't—I really don't know. I was in Africa, in Cairo, and then I was here, stealing from him. And I remember having a family, but now I don't. I remember the Nile, I remember a hospital, and the doctors, and then all of a sudden here's you and lucky me for it…"
He listened as she poured out what sounded like a long pent-up speech of confusion, anger and deep frustration. She was beginning now to sound more like the fourteen year old child he believed she was, and less the mid-twenty-something she had been portraying in her voice beforehand. In her eyes, in her round, miss-coloured blue gaze, as she looked up at him hopelessly, she seemed much more the part of the lost and lonely child, the typical orphan; just that bit older and less naïve than she should be.
If I told you anything other than that, then it would be a lie."
On that he simply went on walking and she followed at his side once again.
She was unsure of why exactly she was following him, other than the life she owed him, but he offered something akin to safety and she felt obliged to take it. She felt it quite necessary in fact. And he seemed not to mind her company much either.
"Well, we wouldn' wanna be encouragin' such a pretty fille to lie now, would we?"
She smiled and shook her head slowly.
"So, where are you taking me?"
Finally they came to the peek of what had seemed an endless stone-cluttered hill. She found they were perched atop something akin to a high mountain road, which ducked dramatically back downhill and round a bend into the unknown. The fields on their right cut off to form a sheer-drop cliff with a rickety wooden fence to warn the livestock of so. Most impressively though, laid out before them upon the vast horizon of the morning lit view, was the busy and wide-stretched streets and roads of the 'Big Ease': New Orleans.
"Home, fille, dat where ah be takin' you."
------------
On a set of old creaking hinges a chipped and varnished front door to a slightly spacious and rather homely bungalow was opened and then shut over from the awakening world outside. The smell of pine furnishings and warm air rushed forward to greet Storm as she took her first curious glimpses at what was to quickly become her new home, although she was unaware of quite how well welcomed she was yet.
"It's…"
Gambit smiled down at her with mild and growing affection as he ushered her in and threw off his trench coat, landing it on the frayed arm of a plush red couch, one of many pieces of old, well loved furnishings and accessories littered through the house. She pulled down her bright pink headscarf slowly.
"Jus' a thief achievin' de good ol' American Dream. You like?"
She hurried a vigorous nod for lack of any good enough words to justify it.
"Den you be stayin' for a while, non?"
She turned and faced him again, tearing her gaze from the sights around her as she hesitated in answering. She was sorely tempted, but…
"I don't even know you that well."
He shrugged as he crossed from carpet to lino and stepped behind a corner of units that marked out a surprisingly orderly kitchen.
"Y' know me better dan most now."
"Well you must be a very secretive man then."
"More dan you know."
She frowned, and then smiled as he did.
"You have a sense of humour dry enough to match my own."
He looked mockingly shocked. "You 'ave a sense o' humour? Say it ain' so!"
She tried to ignore him, but the attempt ended on a spluttering of laughter. The rising sun outside shone a little brighter through the many clear windows of the large main room.
"Hungry?"
Her drifting gaze was turned from the inspection of a bamboo-laced door to her left back into the kitchen, surveying an array of pine wood units and cupboards before then moving her eyes back onto him. Only on mentioning it did she realise she was famished. She nodded quietly.
"Den y' can come out t' brunch wit me."
She blinked. "But… I don't have any money."
Stupid statement, she thought quickly after. In truth she was unsure of how fast events with him seemed to be unfolding. The concern was apparent on her youthful face.
"Relax, mon ami. I aint askin' you out on a date or anyt'in' of de likes. You just look like you be needin' a feed is all, an' a good one while we're at it."
With him she looked down at her lanky figure, painfully aware that she was taller than most for her age of fourteen, and skinnier than was necessary.
"An' besides," he broke into his charming grin again, "you of all ah'm sure should be aware dat thievein' be one of de best paid jobs on de go right now, if you do it right."
Still she looked hesitant, even though she smiled and warmed to the idea of brunch with him.
"We call it our new start, de fresh slate we promised each other, neh?"
She looked a little less tentative to the proposal now, more willing to partner with him, at least in brunch. Her stomach edged her on.
"An 'ah'll be not'in' but de same perfect gentleman ah've been dis 'ole time so far."
Finally she broke into an easy grin.
"Alright then, beginning of the fresh start it is."