Author's Note(s): I'm still going to post Day of Doom, don't worry about that. But I always wanted to write one of these, but I didn't know how. So I decided to go with this approach. I hope you all enjoy.
Always Together; Eternally Apart
By FAH3
I.
The smell was beyond every meaning of the word foul. His nose had been graced several times by various odors all of his life; both pleasurable and sickening. But even if the foulest skunk that God himself had created were to smell the stench he was currently breathing in, the poor creature would swear never to create stink again. But it was something he would have to try and tolerate. He was almost free. Crawling through this foul passage was his only hope now. For several minutes he had been pounding the soft dirt in front of him. Desperate to try and get the hell out of this hole he had crawled into. He was tired, weak, and hungry, but it was a small price to pay for him to gain his freedom.
He felt his hand finally pushing through the dirt, and he could feel open space beyond. With drawing his hand, he pushed more and more Earth away until a larger hole had formed. Not bad since his other hand was currently pinned to his side. Grasping the edge of the newly formed hole, he pulled himself through. He was getting too tired too fast. He needed to get out of there. Using as much of his strength as he could muster, he pulled himself again and found his head slipping through the hole. Happiness and exhilaration were flooding through him like water. He could taste freedom now. That was, until he felt his shoulders become stuck within the opening.
"I guess this isn't that different from escaping mother's womb." He chuckled to himself until he shivered. "Oh, I don't need that image in my head right now." He said to himself. How did he get into this mess? Oh, wait. Now he remembered.
Ronald Stoppable was in this mess because of his trade. He had spent most of his life as a penniless peasant growing up in the kingdom of Middleton; having to steal in order to eat and find warm clothing. He actually had become quite skilled at being a thief too. Of course, that was before he found himself in the dungeon. He was starving again and needed money in order to by a simple loaf of bread. Well, he was halfway at stealing a purse full of gold until the rightful owner of the gold filled purse discovered what Ron was doing. What made things even worse was that the man he was stealing from was one of Bishop Fisk's guards. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the dungeons below with several other lunatics and scum of the streets. One of his cell mates actually tried to eat him; thinking Ron was a pig!
The kingdom of Middleton had been known for many things. And one of them was the fact no one had ever escaped their feared dungeons. After days of putting up with the lunatics he had been sharing a cell with and Lieutenant Barkin, the commanding soldier who ran the dungeons, he decided to change that. He had discovered that he was big enough to crawl through the drain that allowed certain – wastes - to escape. He followed it for what seemed like miles until he was now here. Underground, stuck in the mud, and eclipsed in the dark. Well, at least he wasn't with any monkeys. He hated monkeys.
"Lord, I know I'm probably not in your favor with my past sins. But if you could help me right now, I would be very grateful." Ron said to himself. Since he spent so much time by himself, God seemed to be the only person he could talk to. Why should the Catholics be the only one to talk to God?
It seemed Divine Intervention had heard him. No sooner than he stopped talking, the mud Ron had been laying on gave way and allowed him to tumble end over end until he landed with a loud splash. Ron quickly came up for air, and viewed his surroundings. There was light peering through various openings, but it looked like a flooded hallway. A hallway? Were they building a secret passage and hit the moat? When he noticed something float by him and gained a good view of it, he felt his bile began to rise. He had fallen into the sewer. At least no one knew he was gone yet.
"Good Morrow, Barkin." One of the lower ranking soldiers greeted his superior as he entered the dungeon.
"We need three more prisoners for the public executions." Barkin said as he adjusted the bright red tunic that was covering the armor and chain mail he wore.
"Are there any you want in particular?" he asked as he escorted his commander to the dungeon cells.
"Yes. How about the one everyone calls the Buffoon? Ronald Stoppable?" Barkin asked.
"His cell is right here, sir." The guard said as he unlocked the dungeon cell.
"It'll be nice to see that non-conformist punk swing by his neck." Barkin said to himself as he entered the cell and began looking at the faces of the prisoners that were sitting in their own filth. Even though their faces were covered with mud, dirt, and other things he didn't want to know about, none of them were the one he was looking for.
"This is the wrong cell." Barkin said.
"This can't be the wrong cell, sir."
"Are you calling me a liar?" Barking growled as he looked the guard in the eyes.
"N-no, sir. I remember putting the buffoon in this cell, sir." The guard said. Both of them turned when they heard one of the prisoners begin to giggle uncontrollably.
"What's so funny?" Barkin asked him.
"Buffoon not here." The balding man said as he laughed again. "He – he went down the hooole" he said as he pointed to the sewer hole with the grate removed.
"No one can fit down there. WHERE IS HE?!" Barkin demanded as he grabbed the prisoner by the throat and began to squeeze.
"I already told you where he went!" the prisoner said as he felt his airway beginning to close.
"Hang this filth instead." Barkin said as he threw the man to several waiting guards. "Ring the bells while I inform the Captain. You better pray you don't join them on the gallows." Barkin said as he marched away from the quivering guard.
He didn't know how much longer he could stand wading through this river of crap. If he thought the smell in that tunnel was bad, then the sewer was hell compared to it. As Ron continued to wade through the raw sewage, he heard something. What could that be? Music? Wait. It was the bells. The only time those bells ever rang was on Sunday, and today was Thursday. They knew he had escaped. Damn! This put a big crimp in his plans. Hold on, what was the other noise? There was something else that the ringing of the bells had almost drowned out.
Ron looked up as he came to a shaft of light, and realized he was hearing singing. It was chanting!
"Thank you, Lord." Ron said as he saw rounded pieces of thick metal, a ladder, in the shaft wall. He grabbed the first one and began to climb.
It took a great effort, but he was slowly pulling himself upward. As he climbed, a rather strange smell began to grace his nose. It wasn't the stench from the water below. As he reached the top of the shaft, he found a grate blocking his way. As he grasped it and looked through it, he saw a beautifully sculpted ceiling that had been made into an arch. The sweet smell that had found his nose was much stronger now. When he saw several men wearing brown robes and carrying crucifixes while they chanted, he realized where he was. He was beneath the Cathedral of Middleton. And if he was here, that meant Bishop Fisk was there. And he bet the last thing the Bishop wanted to see was a prisoner like him trying to flee the gallows. Of course, that might be better than going back down into the muck below. Why couldn't he be under the Hebrew Temple instead?
While Ron was thinking about the choice before him, one of the monks above him began walking across the grate and stepped on Ron's fingers. With a shout of pain, Ron instinctively drew his fingers back and lost his footing. Ron soon found himself in the sewers again as he fell into the water. Before he swam back to the surface, something caught his eye. He quickly resurfaced and took a deep breath before he went back under. There was a grate in one of the walls that lead to the moat outside. But what was interesting was that there was a hole twice his size in it. Acting quickly, Ron swam through the hole, and swam upward as he felt his lungs burn for the need of fresh air. When his head surfaced and he opened his eyes, a broad smile crossed his face as he saw the outside walls of the castle. It looked like Lady Luck still had a use for him after all.
As service continued, the large doors to the mighty chapel opened. In marched the Captain of the Guard, Drakken, accompanied by two of his soldiers. He was taking a big risk at the moment. Public mass was on Sundays, but the monks always held a private service everyday. Drakken made his way through the chanting mass of Holy men and toward the man in white that was standing at the pulpit, reading from the large bible in front of him. His Grace, The Bishop Montgomery Fisk. He was a tall man, lean, and constantly held his head high with the knowledge that he was better than everyone else. As he brushed a lock of his black hair from his face, he saw Captain Drakken walking towards him. He walked down from his pulpit and faced the soldier.
"There had better be an important reason you are interrupting this time of worship." He said to the smaller man.
"Your Grace, a prisoner has escaped. A thief named Ronald Stoppable."
"No one escapes from the Kingdom of Middleton." Fisk growled as he glared at the man in front of him. "I want you to find him and drag him back." Fisk said to him.
"My lord, he's just a petty thief."
"A great storm is announced by a small breeze. All it would take is a small spark to ignite the fires of rebellion. These people must know the strength of my power. Once my judgment has been decreed, no one can escape it. Bring him back. But if he resists, kill him." Fisk said as he raised his hand.
Drakken kissed the jeweled ring that sat on his hand, turned, and made a hasty exit. The last thing Drakken wanted was to be the recipient of his Grace's wrath.
As the guards mounted their steeds, a man with a pale face, almost blue, stormed into their ranks. He looked as if he hadn't slept for days while his greasy black hair was tied back into a ponytail. The clothes he wore were a tunic of blue and black that covered the black and silver armor he wore. As a horse was brought to him, he inserted the large heavy sword he carried into the scabbard that was attached to the horse's saddle. He mounted the stead, and glared at the men in front of him.
"The man we are hunting is named Ronald Stoppable. Ride north, and search every village, barn, and cave that you find. Leave no stone unturned. The man that fails to bring him back will meet the fate that his Lordship, the Bishop, has chosen for him. Is that clear?" he asked the men.
"Yes, Captain Drakken." The men replied.
"NOW RIDE!" he ordered as they thundered down the cobblestones of the castle and through the main gate.
As the soldiers thundered down the main road, two other guards were sitting by the moat and watched as they feasted on their lunch. Both were talking about the situation at hand, unable to believe that some had actually escaped from the dungeons. They'd hate to see the fate that awaited the poor sap. As they talked and stuffed their faces, both of them were unaware of the hand that rose from the moat and took the dagger that one had laid beside him. Nor did they notice their coin purse's being cut from their belts.
"I know I promised to give up my ways, Lord. But you know what a weak willed person I am." Ron said as he swam away.
As the bells echoed across the city and the countryside, a lone rider in a large black horse watched the city as the hood on the rider's black cloak kept their face hidden. As the rider listened to the bells toll, a large bird of crimson and gold, with tail feather that were almost as long at the tail of a fox, landed on the rider's shoulder.
"What do you think? I've asked for a sign for two years now, and someone escapes from the dungeon. What do you think?" the rider asked the bird, and received a squawk as a response. "Me too." The rider said before making the horse ride off in a swift gallop.
II.
For three days he had been walking. Why did it have to be so close to winter? He was freezing, and his feet were killing him from walking across all these damn rocks. He knew those guards were looking for him and he had to keep hidden, but he was sick of it. If he didn't find some more suitable clothing, he was going to freeze to death. That's why he was heading towards the small village ahead of him. He had to be sneaky, of course. He didn't know if the Bishop's guards were here or not.
He was ducking behind carts and lurking behind huts and houses as he made sure the coast was clear. As he made his way further into town, he finally spotted what he needed. There were clothes hanging on a line of rope, long sleeve shirts that were made of wool. There was no one else around, so he quickly checked the clothing in front of him. Dry as a bone. Perfect. He just hoped these clothes first owner wouldn't miss them.
After he had put on the clothes and felt his body begin to warm itself, and swiped a decent pair of boots, Ron made himself to the nearest inn. What he needed was a good drink and some hot food. It was nice being free again. He savored everything around him as he ventured to the inn. Surpassingly, the tables, as well as the kitchen, we're all outside. All of them set on a wooden platform instead of being in the dirt. Very clever. But right now, he could care less. He was a free man again.
"Inn Keeper! A glass of your finest!" Ron said as he stepped up to the bar.
"Money first, boy." The gruff man said as he cleaned his hands with a towel.
Ron removed the money purse that hung from his waist, and placed four gold coins on the bar top. After the gruff man examined the coins and bit every one of them, he poured Ron a glass of sweet wine.
"Thank you, sir." Ron said as he sipped the wine and savored its taste. The first drink he had been able to consume, besides water, in a long time. As he felt it pour down the back of his throat, a small smile graced his lips. "As a matter of fact, drinks for everyone! For a toast!" Ron shouted, earning the surprised reactions of the various people that were dinning.
"What is your toast, boy?" a man asked as he nursed a glass of mead and kept himself warm by wrapping his cloak around himself.
"This toast is to a very special man. A man who had the sad misfortune to see the dungeons of Middleton, yet he has lived to tell the tale." Ron said as he drank.
"Then you toast to me. I've seen those dungeons." The man replied as the inn keeper filled everyone's glasses with wine.
"As a blacksmith, perhaps? Maybe even a carpenter, or a stone cutter maybe. But as a prisoner? I think not." Ron said with a chuckle.
"I never said I was a prisoner." The man said as he removed his cloak and revealed his black and blue tunic. Ron's eyes widened as several others began to remove their cloaks as well, revealing themselves to be the Bishops men. "If you had stuck to the woods, you might have made it." Captain Drakken said to the young man.
"Oh, crap." Ron said to himself as he looked to the sky. "Why me?" he asked to the skies above.
As one soldier grasped Ron by shoulder, he quickly threw the rest of his wine in the man's face. Using the small opening, he quickly ran and rolled across one of the table's while kicking one soldiers in the face. As he stood to his feet again, he quickly ducked as several others tried to tackle him. Using the confusion, Ron crawled through the maze of red cloth and armored legs and to the ground. Crawling quickly, he soon squeezed himself under the planked floor.
"This is ridiculous." Drakken said to himself as he walked to the other edge of the floor, withdrew his sword, and plunged it through the planks.
A loud scream was heard as Ron scrambled out from beneath deck and was seized by several soldiers. Ron struggled against their hold on him, trying to break free. The soldier that had the strongest grip was having trouble keeping his grip onto Ron while he also held a drawn sword in hand. Putting as much muscle as he could, he jerked free from the soldier. But there was also his fatal mistake. The soldier didn't have control over the weapon and all saw that the tip of the blade had cut Drakken under his left eye to his cheek.
"I am so sorry. It – it was an accident." Ron said as he watched the hunched captain wipe the wound with a gloved finger and examine the blood on his fingers.
"Kill the little bastard." The man said with a sneer.
The soldiers pushed Ron against one of the posts that held the covered roof and held him in place while the soldier who had scratched Drakken brought the blade to his neck. Ron started to pant as he felt the edge barley make contact with his flesh. He could see the glow of light from the blade, as his executioner looked for the perfect place to strike.
"GOD FORGIVE ME!" Ron shouted as the soldier raised his sword to strike.
The soldier screamed in pain and dropped his weapon as he clutched his left arm. Ron looked and saw a small arrow jutting through the muscle with his blood staining the armor red. All looked to see where the arrow had came from, causing many of the soldiers to gasp at what they saw while Ron was dumb struck. There stood a raven haired woman dressed in black. A black chest plate protected her torso, while gauntlets and armored shoulder coverings protected both of her arms. A black cape hung gracefully from her shoulders with the green inner cloth of the cape showing her polished short sword and quill of arrows by her side. In her gloved hands was a sleek, double shot crossbow that was still armed.
As she moved forward, without even taking a glance, she aimed the crossbow to her right and fired. The arrow sped through the bushes and vines, hitting a hidden archer in his chest before he could fire. A look of disdain was on Drakken's face while a smirk graced hers.
"I was told you had returned. I guess I was too hasty for executing that soldier for lying." Drakken said as he glared at the woman.
"If I were you buffoon, I would get your butt over here." She said to Ron.
"Given my choices of company, I think I would agree." Ron said.
As Ron moved, Drakken's hand firmly struck him in the chest and kept him at the post.
"He's a prisoner of the Bishop. Unless you turn and leave immediately, you will also rot with him." Drakken said.
"And you know how quickly it's takes me to reload this." She said as her gloved hand came close to the quiver of arrows. "Do you still have the last scar I gave you?" she asked him.
Drakken growled as he removed his hand from Ronald's chest. Not asking why this woman was saving him, Ron quickly bolted past the woman and as far from the soldiers as possible. He ducked beside the stables and looked at the standoff. He didn't know why, but something wanted him to watch this brave and foolish woman face off against the Bishop's guards. The lady dropped the crossbow and drew her sword. As she took a few more steps, she quickly raised the blade to block the sword of one of the soldiers and stopped when both saw each other.
The guard slowly lowered her sword as she looked at the black knight with her only good eye while the other was covered with a black eye patch. Both of them began to smile as they recognized each other.
"Captain Shego." The guard said with respect.
"Betty. It's been a long time." Shego said and slowly lowered her blade half way.
"Captain, sir knight?" Drakken asked the guard as he walked by her, insulted that one of his own soldiers would call this disgrace by the rank she foolishly threw away.
Before the knight could object, the blade of Drakken's sword pierced through her chest and began to raise the back of her armor upward in an ark. As Drakken smiled in sadistic glee, a look of horror swept across Shego's face as she saw her friend's face become contorted in a look of pain and shock. As Drakken withdrew his sword, she rushed to the side of her fallen comrade and saw the ground under her quickly being stained red.
"Betty, no." she said as she tried to think of what to do.
"It's all right, Shego. I don't blame you. Not even – for"
Betty closed her eye and slumped lifeless in Shego's arms. Slowly, the black knight looked up and glared at Drakken for what he had done. She rose to her feet and brought her sword level to his face as pure rage filled her eyes.
"Kill her." Drakken said.
The knights rushed Shego with swords drawn. One tried to bring a swift blow down upon the woman knight's head, only for her to block his blade, push the sword away; slashing across his belly where the armor was weakest. The man clutched the wound and fell to the ground in a howl of pain as the next attacker jumped over him and tried to strike. She ducked quickly and made the attacking knight flip over her, and land on top of his wounded friend, while she rose and sunk her blade upwards under the arm of another soldier. As she withdrew the blade, she bashed the knight on the head with the handle of her sword.
The remaining knight surprised her and knocked the sword out of her hand. He slashed his sword about, trying to wound her. On his last swing, Shego jumped out of the way and grabbed both of his arms to prevent him from swinging again. She firmly planted her knee in between the knight's legs, making him fall to his knees before kicking him in the face. With all the remaining guards down, she walked quickly to where Drakken was and grabbed him by his throat before he could escape. That's when Ron decided it was time for him to leave. He knew he had been risking his life by staying to watch the fight. But he didn't want to know what this knight had in mind for him.
"Go ahead and kill me. I dare you." He said to her.
"You're not worth the effort." She said and pushed Drakken downward.
Drakken howled in pain as he landed butt first into an open fire. In pain and not knowing what to do, Drakken began to scream and scramble along the ground as his tunic caught fire and began to heat the armor he was wearing. While the other knights were looking for water to dose the blaze, Shego turned and retrieved her crossbow as she made her way to the large black stallion that was waiting for her. After mounting her horse, and putting the short sword away, Shego rode off into the direction she knew the young boy would have most likely taken. When one of the knights tried to give chase on foot, she bashed him across the face with her crossbow in a swift and hard blow.
"SHEGO!" Drakken shouted as the knights finally extinguished the fire that had ruined his tunic.
As Shego rode her steed fast and hard, she recognized the form of the little thief she had just rescued. What kind of buffoon would run without taking a horse? She pushed her steed faster, causing her to shorten the distance between her and the young man. Ron heard the footfalls of a horse getting louder, and his eyes grew wide when he saw the black knight practically on top of him. He tried to run faster, but she was still gaining ground. Shego leaned over to the side with her arm outstretched as she drew closer and closer to the young man. In one fluid movement, Shego grasped the back of his clothes, lifted him upward, and threw him across the front of her saddle.
Shego ignored his protests and cries of panic as she rode to the town's main gate. As she approached the gate, two of the Bishop's guards that had been posted at the main gate saw her approaching. Acting swiftly, they began to push the large oak doors closed to trap them. As they pushed the doors, a giant bird of red and gold swooped down upon them. The bird quickly dove and used its talons and scratched one guard's face before she banked a turn and came directly toward the remaining guard. After seeing what happened to his comrade, the guard turned and ran from the bird. While the bird gave chase, Shego was able to ride through the half closed gate and made her way into the woods. As soon as she rode into the vast forest, the large bird gave up its chase and flew into the woods and followed the path that Shego had used.
III.
"Not that I don't mind the rescue, but could you let me down? I'm going to puke all over your horse!" Ron shouted.
"As you wish." The black knight said as she brought the large steed to a stop and kicked Ron off of her saddle.
Ron landed into the dirt with a hard thud and was rewarded with the taste of what he hoped was cold dirt.
"My thanks." He said to her as he stood up. As he did, he saw the same bird that had attacked the soldiers land gracefully on the knight's shoulder. "Again, thank you for the rescue. Now I'll just be on my way."
"I wouldn't if I were you." The woman said to him as he began to walk.
"Well, you aren't me. And me decides to walk this way." Ron said as he continued about his way.
"As soon as you get to the main road, the bishop's guards will hang you within an hour. A little longer if you stay close to the river." She said to him.
"And how would you know that?" he asked as he turned to face his rescuer.
"Because you're a simpleton and not too bright. Besides, I've trained most of those men to be cunning trackers and they'll stay close to the obvious traveling routes." She said as she made her horse start walking in a small trot further into the woods. "I hope you've made piece with your maker." She said as she walked away.
Ron thought about what she had just said, and knew she made some sense. But what did she mean that she trained? When he heard a few sticks snap here and there, he began to get a feeling he was being watched. He glanced to his right, then his left. After some consideration for his own health, and hearing the howl of what might have been a very hungry wolf, he thought it may not be so bad to travel with the pale woman.
"Can I at least sit in the saddle this time?" he asked her.
"You've got a working pair of legs." She said to him.
She cast her gaze skyward again and glanced at the afternoon sun. With a small growl, she decided it was time to find a place to scamp. She could also tell from the way that the blonde moron behind her was panting that he might collapse of exhaustion soon. She couldn't let that happen, she already had too much to deal with. As she glanced at the sky again, she could see a thin trail of smoke. It was too big to be afire, and too small to belong to an inn. Most likely peasants. She wanted to avoid contact with people as much as possible, but she may not have much of a choice.
"Are you dead yet?" she asked loudly.
"A-Are you kidding?" he asked in between gasps of air. "I'm as r-right as – the rain." He panted.
"Good. I think I may have found a place for us to camp for the night." She said to him.
"You sure you don't want to keep on going? We've got plenty of light left." Ron said sarcastically.
"If you're really that full of energy," she began to say.
"On second thought, I could use some rest!" he called out as he tried to keep up. A small chuckle escaped the woman's lips as he started walking alongside the horse.
They didn't journey too much farther until they finally came to a small farm. It wasn't much to look at it, but it seemed livable. There was a small cottage made of Earth and wood with a small table outside of it. There was a barn that seemed to double as a stable, and a fence that contained several sheep and goats. A large fire was in the middle of the farm with several small creatures you would find in a forest, roasting on a spit above it.
The farmer and his wife were tending to the sheep and goats when Shego rode into the farm with Ron collapsing to his knees beside it. The farmer quickly jumped over the fence and grabbed a large ax that had been sitting beside the barn. He stood his ground, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was scared to death.
"I'm not here to rob you. We're travelers, and we were wondering if we could spend the night in your barn." Shego said.
"I know who you are, I'm not that old. If I keep you here, I would be begging the bishop's guards to burn my farm. On your way!" the farmer said to her.
"You know," Ron began and untied the purse of gold from his waist. "money isn't an object." He said and tossed it to the farmer.
The farmer caught the purse in one hand and examined it. He set the ax down and opened the purse. After gazing at what was within it, he looked at the two again. "In the barn for one night. In the morning, I want both of you out of here. Understood?" he asked them.
"Clear as crystal." Ron said as he forced himself up as Shego headed to the barn. "Thanks." He said back.
"What are you doing?" the farmer's wife asked him, whispering to prevent their two guests from hearing. "Do you even know what'll happen if the bishop finds out?"
"I know. Once they're asleep, we'll tie them up and turn them in for the reward." The farmer said to her as they walked back towards their cottage.
Ron was glad to be sitting on something soft, and finally resting. He didn't know how much longer he could have walked. It felt like his legs had turned into jelly and his feet into large stones. He didn't know which had been worse. Worrying about his cellmate eating him or having to listen to this bi-
"Buffoon!"
"You know, my name is Ron." He said as he stood to his wobbly legs and looked at the woman who was in the stall next to him.
"How about I call you dip shit, instead?" she asked him.
"What is it?" he asked her.
"Before you go to sleep, I need you to tend to my horse and gather some fire wood." She said to him
"Can't I rest first?"
"If we're going to be traveling companions, then you're going to have to learn how to make some compromises. Or do I throw you back to the guards?" she asked him.
"Point taken miss." Ron said as he walked toward the large horse.
"And you'll call me Captain from now on." She said to him as she hung her sword from a rafter, with a large leather bag hanging from its hilt.
After making sure Ron had left to do his chores, she let out a small breath she had been holding and opened the bag. She reached in and pulled out a black helmet with a silver face guard. It was what was inside it that she was interested in. It was a long white silk dress with blue trim. She set the helmet down and held the dress in her hands. As she held it and continued to look at the beautifully crafted gown, tears began to build within her eyes. She held it close to her and breathed in the scent. It smelled of strawberries and vanilla, a scent she missed and longed for so much. She opened her eyes and let the tears fall as she gazed outside. The sun was begging to set in the distance, turning the sky into a river of colors. As she watched the sun set, sorrow began to fill her heart.
"One day." She said to herself.
"Traveling companions? That's a joke! More like servant!" Ron said to himself as he gathered the bits and pieces of firewood. "More like servant boy." He said again as he picked up another dead branch.
The sun had set almost two hours ago, and it was dark. He could barley see if it weren't for the light of the full moon shining down upon him. He was tired and now he stunk from having stepped in a certain – gift that the horse left. He wasn't sure of it, but he could swear that mule in steed's clothing was laughing at him. Today had just been going from bad to worse. He was thankful he had been rescued, but this woman was so rude and obnoxious! A real bitch!
Sure, she was very beautiful. One could even like her, but her attitude was as sweet as eating an over ripened lemon. Bossing him around, calling him names. Why was he putting up with that? In fact, why was he still here and doing what she said like a dog on a leash? "I have to be the world's biggest idiot. I don't have to take this crap." He said to himself and he dropped the firewood he had just collected. "Good luck to you, my lady. Here's hoping our paths don't,"
He stopped when he heard a series of twigs snapping in a row. Footsteps. He looked all around himself, but it was too dark for him to see anything. If he was being watched, these trees would be perfect to hide behind. He had to think of something quick. Maybe it was too dark for anyone else to see as well.
"Who do you think is out there, Felix? Maybe you should draw your sword. Jean-Luc, I see you brought your crossbow. Let's all go back to the barn together. All right?" he asked himself. "All right." "All right." He said in two deeper voices and began walking back to the barn. As he walked back, he could hear more footsteps behind him. Someone was following, and they were gaining on him. "SHOOT TO KILL JEAN-LUC! SHOW NO MERCY FELIX!" Ron shouted as he broke into a full run to the barn.
Bitch or not, he needed the Captain's help. He was almost there when he felt a long thick pole press against his neck and pull him backward. From the horrible stench and the way he was being restrained, he could tell that it was the farmer that had him.
"No where to run, boy." He said. The farmer's breath was so foul, it almost made him gag.
A small growl echoed in the night as loud as a cannon shot. Ron and his captor froze when they heard it, and knew that whatever was making it wasn't friendly. Both slowly turned, the farmer still holding Ron prisoner, and both gasped in fear. There, in an attack stance, was a large black wolf. Its face was twisted in a snarl, it's ivory white teeth bared as it growled, and a pair of dark green eyes glared at them.
"I think we have a problem." Ron said.
"What do we do now?" the farmer asked.
"Why are you asking me? You're the one with the big stick around my neck." Ron said to him.
"Actually, it's an axe."
"Oh. AN AXE?!" Ron shouted.
Ron went limp and slid out from beneath the farmer's hold on him, and quickly rolled away. When the farmer turned, Ron watched in terror as the large wolf leapt and clamped down on the farmer's neck. Both fell to the ground as the farmer screamed into the night, the wolf's teeth sinking deeper into the farmer's flesh. As Ron watched as the wolf attacked the farmer, he knew there may be a strong chance that he could be next. Jumping to his feet, Ron ran back to the barn as fast as he could to find the captain. If she could take on a squad of the Bishop's soldier's, she must be able to handle a monster wolf.
"Captain! Catpain, we have one big ass problem!" Ron shouted as he ran into the barn and found nothing. There had been a bed made out in one corner, and the captain's armor had been laid out for the next morning, but there was just no captain anywhere. "Oh, man! I am so screwed!" Ron moaned to himself.
As he franticly searched the barn, he saw the double shot cross bow that had been set aside. Acting quickly, he grabbed the weapon and started t head to the ladder when he stopped. The crossbow wouldn't work unless he had arrows. Dashing back, he grabbed the quiver and started to rn again until he saw all of them spill onto the ground.
"This is not my day." Ron said to himself as he grabbed two arrows and finally climbed up the ladder to the second story of the barn.
The lumber the barn had been made of had several spaces in between them, allowing Ron to see outside. As he gazed outside, he saw the black wolf was sitting outside the barn and seemed to be gazing right at him. With his breath quickening, Ron tried to load the cross bow as fast as he could. Pulling the line back into the lock took all of his strength as he balanced the but against his leg. It was like he was trying to remove a boulder from a mountain.
He almost had the line pulled into the lock when he felt a soft hand grip his shoulder his shoulder. Startled, Ron spun around as the cross bow fell on his foot. Grimacing in pain, he looked at the person in front of him, and gasped in awe as he saw a beautiful woman with red hair and green eyes, wearing a black cloak.
"Are you all right?" she asked him.
"I—I'm fine. I didn't really need that foot anyway." He said to her.
"Good." She said as she did her best not to laugh. "You might want to think about getting yourself a belt." She said to him as she turned to the ladder.
Ron looked down and began to blush as he saw that his pants had fallen to his ankles. As he pulled them back up, his eyes widened as he saw the woman was starting to climb down the ladder. If she went out there, she would be killed!
"Ma'am! Don't go! Don't go out there! There's a wolf out there! A very, very big freaking mean ass wolf!" Ron said to her before she raised her finger to his lips, silencing him.
"It's okay. I know." She said gently before descending the ladder the rest of the way.
Ron watched her reach the bottom of the ladder and walk toward the entrance of the barn. With his heart catching in his throat, Ron rushed to the side of the barn and looked through the space in between the lumber. He watched as the woman walked directly toward the wolf and was terrified he was about to watch the savage beast murder another person. But to his absolute surprise and shock, the wolf walked to the woman and licked her hand as if it were her pet. She even kneeled down to its level and gave it a firm hug as she scratched it behind the ears. After their embrace was over, they both turned and walked away side by side.
"I'm dreaming. That's got to be it, I'm dreaming." Ron said to himself.
"You are dreaming." The redheaded woman said to him, causing Ron to gasp.
"Lord, I don't know what the hell is going on, and I don't want even try and guess. So I beg of you, as a favor to me, LEAVE ME OUT OF IT!" Ron shouted before he passed out.
IV.
Bishop Fisk was enjoying the early morning sun as he read from the large Holy Bible in front of him. It was days like this that seemed to bring a calm over him and almost forget the hardships around him. He enjoyed these days so much. But not when his nose was assaulted by the foul stench of body odor, and he heard the clanking of armor walk into his courtyard. As his smile turned into a frown of utter distain, he looked to see the captain of his guards stop and kneel in front of him. Of course, he was confused as to why he had a poorly stitched cut on his face and the back of his tunic was burned. Of course, there were a few bruises that decorated his face.
"Don't tell me that a lowly thief did this to you." The Bishop said.
"Only the cut, your Grace." Drakken said.
"Is he dead?"
"No."
"No? What do you mean by telling me no?" the Bishop asked as his anger rose.
"A complication has arisen."
"I don't have time for your pathetic ex-"
"Shego has returned." Drakken said, making Fisk stop what he was saying and freeze in place.
"If you are lying to me,"
"I am not, your Grace. Shego has returned, and taken Stoppable with her." Drakken said to him.
"Rise." Fisk said and motioned for Drakken to join him. "Captain, these people rely me for guidance for both this world and the next. So you remember what almost happened when she was last within these walls?""
"Yes, sir. I do."
"Then you know she has returned for one reason. I am ordering you to stop her from accomplishing that. Use any means necessary, but Shego is not to enter these castle walls alive. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, your Grace."
"Then bring me her head on a silver platter." Fisk said to him and ushered him away. Drakken was half way to the exit before Fisk turned to him again. "Captain! There is something else."
"Which is?" Drakken asked.
"There is a bird that travels with her. I want you to bring it back to me alive. If anything happens to that bird, your head will join hers." Fisk said, letting the soldier turn and leave.
A servant, that's all he was to this woman! Not only does she desert her in the middle of the night to chance his fate to a wolf, but she makes him lead her horse through a thick part of the woods while he was freezing his butt off! It was co cold that he swore he saw ice forming on his shirt! At least she had that thick cloak to keep her warm. All he had was his shirt, and trying to sit next to a pile of her horse's crap while not gagging on the smell. His feet were soaking wet as they walked through the mud, and he could hear his teeth chattering. Life in the dungeon was better than this.
"C-can we build a fire yet?" he asked her.
"No."
"Why not?" Ron asked her.
"For a thief, you whine like a mule." The lady knight said to him as they continued to walk. "We can't start a fire because everything's too wet. Besides, its even colder at night than it is during the day." She said as she pulled the hood back a little and saw how cold Ron was. "I guess we can rest for a moment or two." She said as she took a seat on a patch of moss under a tree while Ron looked for a place to sit.
As Ron sat down, he saw the red and gold bird fly down from the sky and land on the woman's shoulder and began to nuzzle its head under her chin. That was awfully strange behavior for a bird. Of course, he had never even seen a bird like that before.
"Is that an eagle?" Ron asked, trying to keep his mind off the cold weather.
"No. She's a hawk, if you're curious. An extremely rare breed of hawk that are usually mistaken for a Phoniex." Shego said to him as she tried to relax against the tree.
"Where were you last night?" Ron asked her.
"What I do at night is my business, buffoon." She said to him.
"Unless I'm almost killed." Ron said to her.
"Please." Shego said as she rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious! There was a wolf last night. A big black one." Ron said and saw how she looked at him once he mentioned the animal.
"How big?" she asked him.
"As big as the one the Bishop keeps, if not bigger. It killed the farmer when he attacked me, and I ran screaming for you. But guess what?" Ron said sarcastically.
"I apologize. If you must know, I went to another part of the forest to bath. I didn't want you or that farmer to see me without my clothes on." She said to him.
"Fair enough. But that wasn't the weird part."
"It wasn't?"
"No. I got your crossbow to defend myself, and I saw a woman."
"The farmer's wife?" Shego asked him.
"No. This was woman was beautiful. I mean, she looked like one of the lord's angels. She had red hair that was as bright as a sunrise, and those eyes. It was like they were glowing jade." Ron said as he recalled the woman's face. "And when she talked,"
"She spoke to you?" Shego asked him, very interested to know more.
"Yes. She sounded like a dove." Ron said.
"What did she say? Her name?" Shego asked her.
"She didn't say her name. She told me everything was all right, and that I was dreaming." Ron said as he tried to keep warm. "Why so interested?"
"Well, I believe in dreams. I always have. I thought it would be nice that if she wondered into mine, I could speak to her. And we could act like we had always known each other." Shego said as she had a far off gaze in her eyes, like recalling a memory. As she did so, she looked at the bird that was perched on her shoulder and gently rubbed the top of its head. "Get some sleep. We still have a ways to travel." Shego said as she leaned back against the tree and pulled the hood of her cloak over her eyes.
"Easy for you to say." Ron said and shivered in his place, and frowned when the horse turned its rear toward him and farted. "What does she feed you?" he asked as he tried not to gag.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kim Possible or Ladyhawke, nor do I work with the people that do. I wrote this mainly for fun and not for profit.