Author's Note:
Hi everyone!
I know, I've just started 'Breaking Dawn' and also am writing 3 or 4 other fics at once, but this plot wouldn't let me get away without writing it. Yesterday I stumbled across the story 'Stealing The Heart' and since I always liked thief-stories pretty soon got stuck (wonderful story to read if you like Slash, btw).
Well, I wondered, why those guards never try to shoot Merlin/Emrys with arrows when he stands so nicely on his roof? And that's basically how this happened. For now, it's just a really short bit, though I'm gonna write on if you like it (and probably if you don't, because I do... :P).
Unlike 'Stealing The Heart' this shouldn't involve Merthur-Slash, though I don't know were it will lead me. Let's say, slash is highly unlikely in any of my stories.
Now, before everyone runs away because of my babbling, have fun :) and pleasepleaseplease review!
..and again I forgot the disclaimer. But it is ridiculous! Why should I own Merlin? Well, for everyone, I don't. Happy? :)
Chapter 1: The Thief
The sun went down, golden light making way to the silver gleam of the moon. It shone beautiful tonight, a perfect round ball of light against the black sky where the first stars blinked. The streets and walls of Camelot seemed to glow, covered with a layer of the purest silver.
A night for the lovers to meet in the dark of the night, watched only by the moon's still eyes.
The sky now was completely black, a velvet cloth covered over and over with the beautifulest of diamonds, sparkling and gleaming for the rich and the poor alike.
Though the silent beauty was missed by the people of Camelot as they rushed through the streets, packing their belongings and hurrying to get home before the bells rang the curfew.
Before he would appear.
The Shadow, they called him, for he returned every night covered in a cloak black like the sky itself, appearing and disappearing in the darkness of the alleys. The Thief.
No one knew what he looked like, no one had ever seen him. The only evidence of his existence were the constantly missing things and sometimes people who a dark silhouette against the moon or a tail of the black cloak vanishing behind a corner. There were no footprints, no witnesses, but everyone knew it was him.
Emrys.
A hero for the poor, the greatest fear of the rich.
It was a year on the day that he had first appeared. He came over the roofs and took what he wanted. Mostly he stole minor things; food, medicine, books, often money or jewellery. It had taken almost a month until the first reports came before the king. A thief was in their midst, a phantom.
The city guards had tried and failed to catch him, getting to see a dark shadow disappear a few hundred metres away at their best. The King had been furious at their failure, sending patrols of knights everywhere to find the 'street rat'.
None had succeeded.
On the contrary, it seemed like the thief enjoyed being sought, even liked being chased by guards and knights alike.
The prize on his head rose unbelievable quickly.
Rumours started; he was a foreign sorcerer who had come to take revenge, unimaginable wise and powerful, or a forgotten Lord at least. Some said he wasn't even human, a phantom ghost returned from the dead.
That was when the King ordered a curfew. It wasn't needed, though. The people of Camelot closed their windows and locked their doors at sunset without further invitations. No one wanted to fall prey to the mysterious thief.
The people shivered in fear, their King in fury.
But still nobody managed to catch the thief.
His prize was doubled, now enough for a whole family to live several years in luxury. Though the thief must be a lonely man, for no one answered the announcement.
Then, grinding his teeth, the King sent his son. Arthur Pendragon, the blond heir to the crown, an unbeaten warrior that could wield any possible weapon like no other and was stubborn to succeed in every posed task.
He was the first one who actually saw the thief longer than for one or two seconds, even managed to corner him before he vanished again.
And it was also him who learned the name of the thief:
Emrys.
A name to a black cloak and midnight hunts.
The Prince glanced up at the moon while he waited for his men to get ready. A cool breeze ruffled his hair and he smiled mischievously. It was the perfect night; this time he would catch Emrys, alive or dead. And if he lived, Arthur would take pleasure in beheading him for humiliating the King and Prince.
One way or another, Arthur swore silently as he stared at the full moon. Emrys would be dead before the new day dawned.
Now, there's a beautiful blue button below, which you should really press. Because else it (or I) might send Arthur your way... :)
