A//N: You've seen these before. They're called Author's Notes, so you can skip it and get straight to the story or read this, it's up to you. First off, I Own NOTHING. I wish I did, cause if I did I'd be fabulously rich and living in Japan hanging out with Miyamoto...but I'm not. So there.

Anyway, this is my first real story in ages. I haven't written a fanfic since I was 12. That's a total of five years away from this wonderful site, so please bear with me if things sound funny and off and that the first chapter is so short, I'm out of practice.

Natural Born Thieves Like Shiny Things

"Oh dear, uh-oh, oops, haha, you see the thing is…."

Nope, none of these were working for the poor teenager who now found herself pinned beneath the incredibly gross smelling lumbering guard's gorilla arms. She struggled moved, thrashed but nothing was happening. All that happened was the guard bursting out in laughter as he lifted her further off the ground and placed a shiny steel knife to her throat.

Crap.

Now, let's backtrack before some blood is spilled all over the floor shall we? To about, oh say, three hours before all this happened. Back to when the poor girl's awful luck caught up with her...again…

Watching the small white puffs gently drift down to the frozen, fragile earth below, the young teenager sighed, causing her breath to come out in a misty puff. Here she sat, upon the headstone of an unnamed soldier simply waiting and watching in the still and serene yard of graves. Intertwining her gloved fingers together, she shifted slightly in her stone seat. Most would call this disrespectful to use a poor soul's last marking as a personal chair, but this girl had less knowledge about common courtesy than a deranged platypus. And when it came to the dead, well she couldn't care less about such things. Really, dead bodies to her were better used as entertainment. Closing her dark gray eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink, she took in the moment of blissful silence as a slight smile crawled itself across her pale visage. It was a wonderful feeling, having the snow fall upon one's face and melt away, discarding all evidence that it had ever existed.

With a weary sigh, the girl finally stood up, throwing away the quiet moment. Despite her reluctance to do so, it was time to get back to work. She was on a mission, not one that she really wanted to do, of course, but it had to be done. After all, orders were orders. With a casual flick of her hair, she began moving, first at a slow half-walk, half-jog pace and then with each step her speed grew into that of a full on blurring sprint through the graveyard. It was night, nearing dawn, and she had to get this done before the first light. She had an hour, maybe two, tops.

Turning abnormally fast around a particularly sharp corner, her booted feet slid along the snow causing a momentary jump of panic in her chest. She regained her center of gravity by breaking fast with her heels, ice and snow spraying out in all directions as she finally reached her destination: The Royal Tomb of the Kings. Yeah, it was guarded, and yeah…it had tons of amazing loot inside of it. And loot was what she wanted, for Aryll was a true born thief at heart, attracted to anything with even the hint of a shimmer like a magnet to a steel wall.

Well, that wasn't exactly true, Aryll was more like a made thief, ever since that moronic brother of hers left, life had dealt her one bad hand after the next, everything rushing downhill for her at a breakneck speed. By the time she had turned thirteen, not even she could find any trace of the small girl he had left behind. And if he ever returned, neither would he. Did he think before he took off? Did that idiot believe their old grandmother was going to live forever, preserving Aryll's fragile childhood in her wrinkled hands for all eternity?

Apparently the blissfully ignorant idiot did.

Hunkering low behind a particularly large angel statue, Aryll peered carefully over the top of the square base, allowing for her dark irises to scan the surrounding area. She let them narrow slightly in concentration, her brow furrowing against the bitter wind. Glancing down at the stone in her hands, she held it up to her lips. "Rico, what does your eye in the sky see? I need recon here."

"Eye in the sky?" Came a slightly wind-tossed girlish voice from the other end of the connection. "Haha, I get it, that one's really rich, almost as good as beak-head or featherbrain."

Aryll rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." She hissed into the other end, time was getting shorter (of course, her side trip to the graveyard hadn't exactly helped…).

"Oh yeah of course I know what you meant but that doesn't mean, I, as a Rito, still wouldn't take any offe-"

"Oh Fine! I'll do it myself."

"No no, I got it. You've got three in the back of the guards hut, playing poker. Apparently they don't like the cold…the blond haired one is losing by the way, maybe you ought to give 'em some lesso-"

Shoving the stone back into her pocket, Aryll sighed. Sure, Rico was one of the best partners anyone could ask for but that motor-mouth of hers….

Creeping through the frozen landscape, she moved swiftly and carefully. Snow was good for two things: it blinded your enemies when thick enough and it helped stop sound if it was light enough – but it left tracks. Huffing out a heavy puff of air, she took the steps, three at a time in bounding leaps before pinning herself up against the door-frame, waiting and listening to see if she had been spotted.

Nothing. Kneeling, she went right to work on the padlock. It was rusty and old and obviously hadn't been opened in a long while. Not that she minded, old locks were the easiest thing in the world to pick. Fumbling through the little keyhole with her double tools, she heard the satisfying click as the iron loosened its aged grip. She allowed for a brief grin to cross her features before shoving the tools back into her cargo pockets.

The door creaked open with a light push, causing Aryll to cringe inwardly. That wasn't good.

"HEY!" The stone in her pocket vibrated with a hoarse whisper. "The losing blond guy just heard that you idiot! He's coming your way! Move it!"

A curse bad enough to make anyone on Tetra's pirate ship blush slipped from Aryll's clenched teeth. She dove through the door, quickly letting it fall shut back into place. The guard would definitely notice the padlock, she needed something, anything to block the door.

There it was.

She barreled towards the giant stone coffin standing by the side of the door. Thank god the Royal Family around here had that whole 'kill a knight to act as your eternal guard' superstition. Heaving against the coffin, she pushed and shoved, forcing the thing to move inch by painstaking inch.

The guard's footsteps could be heard coming closer now. Normally she'd just take him out, but that would put the loot in jeopardy and arise suspicion from the other guards. She just needed to buy time. With a grunt she gave one last push, it moved but only a little bit. Fortunately that was enough to block the door somewhat. And something that heavy would take a whole lot more guards to move.

"Oy, are you alright? The Guard's throwing a fit outside the door….aaand now he's running back to the other two. I'd say you have like ten minutes, tops."

"Thank you, Rico." Aryll grumbled, not caring if the stone picked up on that one or not. Even Less time now, brilliant! That was how she liked it good and tough and on the brink of impossibility. Reminded her of her first job. Those were good times.

Aryll took a moment to catch her breath as she flicked some of her blonde locks out from her eyes; she had recently chopped that goofy long ponytail short so that it hovered in wispy layers around her jaw-line. Seriously, spitting out strands of hair during raids like this were a major setback and incredibly annoying.

One last deep breath and she spun around on her black booted heel….

And smashed face first into something hairy and reeking from a severe lack of deodorant. Aryll peeled her face away from the sweaty skin, physically gagging at the stench.

"Well well…" A deep baritone voice cooed as a massive man hand clamped itself over Aryll's face and slammed her up against the wall. "A little thief, and a cute one at that."

Aryll opened her eyes a slit to see mammoth hairy guard before her. He wore no shirt, probably because despite the freezing weather, it was hot as Hell in the tomb. She was grateful that the standard issue armored blue uniform pants were still buckled about his waist. The only thing worse than fat, smelly, shirtless guards were naked ones.

No one had told her a guard would be on duty inside the tomb. Actually, there was no mention of this at all, Intelligence just told her of the guard shack. With a twisted grin, he grabbed her about her throat and pulled her towards him.

And now we bring the story right back to its starting point. The moment where Aryll hovered above the ground, suspended by a meat log of an arm and having to subject her poor nose to a rank smelling dose of extreme body odor. The type of odor that would make any zoo land animal boil with jealousy.

The knife dug deeper into her skin, as the hairy, seven-foot-tall giant smirked. "You know, we're allowed to dispense of thieves right on the spot – no matter how cute or small they are. But you got guts making it this far, so I'll give you a chance to say some last words."

Another pleasant curse slipped from Aryll's mouth, one so bad that the guard actually stammered a bit, his eyes widening. "And take a bath too," she spat.

Now thoroughly angered and slightly embarrassed that he had just been told off by someone who was only 5'4", the man brought his bladed hand back.

Bad move on his part. Taking the chance, Aryll swung her legs forward up and then over the arm that had her pinned to the wall, whereupon she smashed the heel of her foot into the man's elbow. Nimble thing, she was.

The man cried in pain as he dropped to his knees, holding his elbow, she had actually snapped it. No joint should ever bend that way. Dropping to the ground, she didn't stop for a second and spun around for another smashing hit to the man's skull. It connected, his eyes rolled, and he keeled over to the side, landing so loudly on the stone floor that he actually caused the tomb walls to shake.

Aryll stepped away from him, holding her nose. Her clothes were now seeped in that awful smell. She'd have to burn them later. "Ugh…" Shaking her head slightly, she started once again for the main coffin that sat at the center of the room, poised atop a raised portion of the floor.

Stopping before it, she withdrew a small round sphere and shoved it into a center crack lining the coffin lid. No need to be sneaky anymore, the door was already being slammed up against, causing the coffin blocking it to shudder with each hit. Flicking her finger over the wick sticking from the sphere, she jumped back several feet and shoved her fingers into her ears.

KA-BOOM!

Ah, such a glorious sound. Bits of rock and dust flew everywhere, leaving the charred, smoldering remains of what used to be a solid crypt in its wake.

"The Hell was that!?" The stone screeched. "You BLEW It up!? I thought the leader said to be INCONSPICUOUS!"

Aryll frowned, she yanked the stone from her pocket. "There was a guard in here-"

"A guard? What do you mean, the inside is supposed to be empty."

"Exactly, look, I had to take care of him so there's no reason to bother with the sneaky bull. Now would you please shut it so I can get this done with before the door breaks?" Wishing there was some way to click the stone into 'off mode', Aryll dove into the coffin, shoving the slightly flaming corpse out of the way.

She had to pause again in order to clamp her hand once again over her nose. It smelled worse than the guard. Not only was the flesh still rotting but now it was burning, and nothing smelled worse than burning, rotting skin. Trying her best to block it from her mind, she rummaged around the coffin with her free hand.

Bingo. She brought it back out with a large golden jeweled amulet in her hand. She drew the jewel closer to her grinning face, smiling gleefully all the while. "Oh look," she cooed, "it has a birdie on the back. I wonder if it's supposed to be a seagull."

"Aryll! They're almost done breaking it down." The stone chimed again.

Whirling around Aryll faced the door, to see it slowly budging inch by inch as two gloved hands started to snake their way through the entry.

Aw damn. Today just wasn't her day. Nabbing another sphere from her pocket, she flicked the wick and chucked the thing at the door. She could hear some confused murmurs as the pushing stopped. Heheh, idiots.

With another deafening blast, the door flew outwards. Now was her chance, Aryll ran headlong for the door entry.

One of the guards who seemed to be unharmed by the explosion leapt through the ruined door, sword brandished and waiting. He whipped his head angrily around until he spotted Aryll, fleeing in his direction. Jutting a finger out, he bellowed. "You there! Halt!"

In mid-step she paused to grab the limp arm of the shirtless guard, spun around on her heel and actually threw the seven foot guard right at the other poor schmooze in her way. The guard stood there stupidly gawking at the body hurtling towards him. It hit him dead on, causing him to topple over beneath the gargantuan amount of weight.

Aryll just kept on going as if nothing happened; she stomped right on over the two men, making sure to grind their faces further into the gritty floor as she passed.

Cold air hit her face once more, causing a slight sting to her cheekbones when she finally emerged from the tomb with the object of interest in hand. Making her way past the other two unconscious guards, she leapt for the coverage of the trees and kept on going further and further into the night until she was positive that there was no one in pursuit.

Slowing to a stumbling halt, she bent over, placing her hands on her knees to suck in the freezing, but much appreciated, winter air into her deprived lungs.

"Dummy, the Boss is going to kill you." The voice, normally coming from the stone, sounded above her as a young girl gently glided down to stand next to her. She folded away her auburn wings and crossed her arms angrily together.

"The boss had –huff- faulty –huff- information," Aryll grumbled, still trying to catch her breath. She glanced up at the red-eyed fifteen year old.

Rico sighed, running her hands furiously through her silver locks. "Did you at least get the stuff?"

Aryll straightened her back out, her breathing now coming to a slow steady rhythm. She flashed the Rito-Sheikah half-breed before her a grin and held up the little amulet. "Like always."