AN: ….I'm crazy! You didn't want to know that, but it's true! Anyway, all characters within are not my property. Though I reeeeeeeally wished I owned Kronk and Kuzco. Poor Kronk…my friend, codenamed SpazSailor, and I both want to destroy Yzma, painfully and slowly, for hurting our beloved Kronk. SpazS. doesn't like Kuzco as much as I, but, hey.
WARNING: Original characters exist within. Llana and Chel are original characters. Their village is original. There.
*
Never Said Love
*
Part 1
*
Introducing…
*
"Llana, I need help!"
Turning quickly, her black hair plastered to her tanned skin, the younger of the two sisters squinted through the heavy rain, throwing aside the large, heavy rock she'd been lifting. Slipping through the mud, her tunic and leggings soaked, their gaudy colors dark and gloomy in place of the former brightness. Her bare feet slapped the slick goop, sending the sludge up in a thick spray as she raced toward the fenced-in field they kept their late family's llamas inside of.
Her sister clutched a handful of ropes, trying to hold the cluster of seven llamas, her arms straining while the animals pulled frantically. The animals were panicked, pupils enlargened and they were yanking back. 'Chel, what's wrong with them?" Llana cried, moving amongst the animals, attempting to placate them. "Wild…ungh…panthers in the field," Chel grunted, black eyes narrowed and small body-frame tense. Muttering a curse, Llana grabbed and ripped the ropes from her elder, and stronger, sister's hands. 'You're the only one they fear, Chel! I'll get the llamas into the hut!"
Chel paused, then nodded grimly at the taller girl's words, turning on her sandaled heels and snatching up a glinting blade. "Be careful," she warned before vanishing into the fog and rain.
Warily, he eyed the felines, lanky and deadly as they circled around him, guttural growls rumbling up from their glinting throats. A deep chilled feeling shivered throughout his body. Silent aside from the consistent drumming rain and the sinister panthers, the atmosphere weighed down on his shoulders. His clothes were torn, turquoise earrings missing, and a bloody gash cut into his forehead.
With no warning, one of the wild creatures leapt at him from behind. Blind, searing pain streaked up his legs. Dark, crimson blood rushed from a deep bite mark in his calf, the limp grass quickly becoming coated with the fluid.
Stumbling a few, wavering steps, he collapsed to the ground, closing his eyes peacefully as he awaited the final, ripping bite at his throat.
It never came.
Something bright and silver in the heavy downpour whipped through the air, felling one beast bunching the muscles in its legs and striking another unconscious. Before he himself passed out, he vaguely wondered on the irony of it all-kick on evil advisor's butt, another one stabs you in the back.
Chel snarled at the panthers, sparing them no mercy until they reluctantly, smoldering with anger, backed off, disappearing into the tall grass and the thick mist. Tossing the broken sword to the earth with disgust, she knelt on one knee beside the still body of the young man. Sighing, she touched the side of his neck, ignoring the tingle bubbling along her nerves, cocking her head to one side. A pulse. Good. Hooking her arms under his body and, with a grunt, lifting him up, Chel took a testy step with one sturdy leg. He was light, enough so that she could carry him with easy. Almost unhealthy light…
Trudging carefully back to the homey lights of the hut, the warm fluids of the large, dangerous wound in his leg staining her bare arms dark red, Chel tilted her face toward the dark clouds, the rain swiftly and harshly pounding on her face. "You," she shifted him as he moaned softly, "better be able to help around the hut, or I'll leave you outside the next time the panthers come calling." Lapsing into silence, she remained so up to the point where she kicked the hut's door loudly.
Llana cracked the door open, then opened it enough to allow her older sister and her burden in. "Are you okay, Chel?" she questioned nervously, eyes flickering to the clotted amount of rain-diluted blood on the young woman's arm. "He's the one you should be asking that of," was the reply.
Setting the body onto the floor with an audible grunt, Chel cracked her knuckles, stepping aside as her more efficient, calm sister began tending to the two injuries he sported. Wrapping bandages around his slender leg, tightly binding it with salve and cloth, Llana worked rapidly and firmly, stopping the blood flow before it got worse.
"There." Leaning back on her heels, Llana nodded briskly. "Chel, take him to my room. I'll be sleeping in your room until he's better." Chel smiled briefly at her younger sibling's youthful confidence.
Before she could follow instructions, however, Llana interrupted. "Wait a second-where's your blade?"
Chel half-grinned. "Broke half of it off in a panther's side," she responded cockily. Llana sighed and hung her head dramatically.
Kuzco woke with a start. Sitting up straight, then wincing and slowly falling back. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow."
"'Bout time you woke up, sunshine-and-roses." The voice was female, but with a confidence women, discounting Chicha, lacked. Standing above him was the single most intimidating woman he had ever seen. Again, discounting Chicha. Black hair shorn unevenly short with inky black eyes were the sole decorations on her face.
Abruptly, the young woman sat at the foot of the bed. "Since I can't call you sunshine-and-roses all the time, what's your name and where're you from?" she asked, tone friendly, but stern.
He tried to say 'Kuzco' and 'my Palace,' but the first came out twisted.
"Kazoo?" Chel gasped between laughs, raising an eyebrow. "So, you worked in the palace?" she continued, stopping her flow of snickers and giggles, though still holding a laughing look to her face. Grumbling under his breath, he plastered a false smile on his face and gritted out a 'yes.'
"Okay." The young woman turned and stood up, grabbing a few articles of clothing. "If you're going to be staying here-the Palace is waaaaaaay beyond walking range and our village doesn't have any way to take you back-then you'll need better clothes…and you'll work as soon as your leg and head are better."
He shot up, then flinched and sank back down. "Work?" His voice sounded whiny and desperate even to him. She looked over her shoulder and smirked. "Yes, work. My name's Chel, by the way. My sister, Llana, bandaged you up," she answered kindly, tossing the robes and length of corded rope at him. Catching it, he glanced down despairingly at them. Though they did look rather nicely woven…and the pattern wasn't half-bad.
"Um…thanks," he mumbled. She gave him a lopsided smile. "You're welcome, Kazz. Now sleep."
Lashing the beam tightly with rope, Chel ground her teeth together as she pulled up the broken piece of fence with a mighty heave. Quickly, she tied the rope to another post, intricately looping it around both lengths of wood, then knotting the ends and wedging, with effort, the logical tangle between the rounded boards. Tossing her head and lifting one of her sandaled feet, squarely placing it on the newly repaired fence, she pushed with her leg and pulled at the top of the wood with her strong hands. The wood groaned, then splintered and broke under the pressure. Exasperated, she grasped the rope and swiftly untied the know, unwinding it.
"Need some help?"
Tilting her face back, she grinned at the now-familiar appearance of 'Kazoo' and his makeshift crutch tucked under one arm, hobbling towards her. "Yeah. The fence is harder to mend than I thought."
Kuzco placed the crutch on the ground with not much affection, gingerly lowering himself onto his knees. Examining the ground where the fence posts had been twisted in, he hit upon the answer.
Literally.
Rubbing the scar on his forehead, he tried to recover what part of his dignity remained. How was he supposed to know his knee would slip? And that the fence post would handily be *right* there?
"Think I've found your prob, babe."
"Pardon?"
"Chel. No support down here. What'd you do, just shove the thing into the ground without packing dirt around it?" Looking up, he judged by the redness of her face and the unusual sheepish look that the answer was no. "Well, then, fix it," he ordered.
A moment of silence passed as Chel raised her eyebrow, shrugged and dropped to one knee, placing her hand on his shoulder as she leaned to get a good look.
"No touching!"
Ripping her hand off his shoulder, she shot him a strange look before grabbing his hands and shoving them into the soil. With a yell, he yanked his hands out and glared at her. "What are you trying to do, babe? Remember the three rules: no touching, no work-"
"No food?" she suggested, laughter underlining her voice and he squirmed.
"Okay, point taken, ba-…" His voice trailed off at her how-about-I-kill-you stare and he hastily corrected, "Point taken, Chel. So…" With a disgusted look, he plunged his hands into the moist earth, pressing it into a firmer shape around the wood. Chel smiled briefly, then dug her own hands under, reinforcing the mold he was forming.
After a moment's work, followed by a moment's contemplation, Kuzco grinned devilishly. "Oh, yeah," he smirked smugly and Chel dug her elbow into his rib cage.
"No touching!"
Throwing her head back, Chel laughed freely, slapping his back purposefully.
"Kazz, I think I'm beginning to like you!" she chuckled, rubbing his head in a friendly gesture. Sighing ruefully, Kuzco decided to let the 'no touching rule' slide for once.
"Let's go in before Llana sends out a search party."
"Think they'd bring some food? I am *starved*."
'You know how to cook?"
"Nuh-UH, babe."
"I know three-thousand ways to break your nose. Don't push me."
"Careful. You'll throw off my groove."
"Sure. Poke."
"NO TOUCHING!!!!!!"
Jzni clucked his tongue sadly, walking torturously slow before his many prisoners. Guards glared, servants shivered, wannabe-empresses stared, that reeeeeeeally annoying kid with a lollipop continued that infernal licking-and/or-slurping, and the chef-Kronk, he believed was his name-seemed to be pondering.
Jzni mulled over that idea. No, the guy was too dense to be 'pondering' in any way. Having decided this, the man paraded up to the throne, seating himself in it and snickering evilly and with a high-pitched nasal sound.
A mass shudder swept through the room at the annoying noise.
Whilst the evil advisor-turned-emperor began predictably rambling about his greatness and the beauty of his diabolical schemes, a squirrel snuck in unnoticed, scampering silently across the marble floor in a beeline for Kronk.
His eyes lighting up, Kronk engaged the furry animal in a quiet conversation.
"Squeakity squeakee squeak squeakum squeak?" the man mumbled and the squirrel nodded quickly.
"Ah, squeakitt squeak squea!" Kronk continued and the squirrel nodded again, racing behind Kronk, gnawing quickly through the thick ropes binding his ankles to his wrists.
End AN: And that was Chapter One. Not likely I'll continue…unless I get at least ONE review!! That's all I want…one review…*lower lips trembles* I *know* it was short…most of my stories/chapters *are* short. I'm working on a strange story called "Dear Kronk" in which Kronk takes on a "Dear Abby"-like job and must deal with weird questions and/or topics…like how to fend off two certain rabid fans who want to torture Yzma and kiss Kronk…(not mentioning names….*cough* *cough* SpazSailor *cough* *cough* and *cough* *cough* me *cough* *cough*) Probably won't write it. *&.^* Okay, this is the Kuzco-and-Kronk-loving writer, PallaPlease, signing off!
PS. Read/review/weep/flame. Ja ne!
WARNING: Original characters exist within. Llana and Chel are original characters. Their village is original. There.
*
Never Said Love
*
Part 1
*
Introducing…
*
"Llana, I need help!"
Turning quickly, her black hair plastered to her tanned skin, the younger of the two sisters squinted through the heavy rain, throwing aside the large, heavy rock she'd been lifting. Slipping through the mud, her tunic and leggings soaked, their gaudy colors dark and gloomy in place of the former brightness. Her bare feet slapped the slick goop, sending the sludge up in a thick spray as she raced toward the fenced-in field they kept their late family's llamas inside of.
Her sister clutched a handful of ropes, trying to hold the cluster of seven llamas, her arms straining while the animals pulled frantically. The animals were panicked, pupils enlargened and they were yanking back. 'Chel, what's wrong with them?" Llana cried, moving amongst the animals, attempting to placate them. "Wild…ungh…panthers in the field," Chel grunted, black eyes narrowed and small body-frame tense. Muttering a curse, Llana grabbed and ripped the ropes from her elder, and stronger, sister's hands. 'You're the only one they fear, Chel! I'll get the llamas into the hut!"
Chel paused, then nodded grimly at the taller girl's words, turning on her sandaled heels and snatching up a glinting blade. "Be careful," she warned before vanishing into the fog and rain.
Warily, he eyed the felines, lanky and deadly as they circled around him, guttural growls rumbling up from their glinting throats. A deep chilled feeling shivered throughout his body. Silent aside from the consistent drumming rain and the sinister panthers, the atmosphere weighed down on his shoulders. His clothes were torn, turquoise earrings missing, and a bloody gash cut into his forehead.
With no warning, one of the wild creatures leapt at him from behind. Blind, searing pain streaked up his legs. Dark, crimson blood rushed from a deep bite mark in his calf, the limp grass quickly becoming coated with the fluid.
Stumbling a few, wavering steps, he collapsed to the ground, closing his eyes peacefully as he awaited the final, ripping bite at his throat.
It never came.
Something bright and silver in the heavy downpour whipped through the air, felling one beast bunching the muscles in its legs and striking another unconscious. Before he himself passed out, he vaguely wondered on the irony of it all-kick on evil advisor's butt, another one stabs you in the back.
Chel snarled at the panthers, sparing them no mercy until they reluctantly, smoldering with anger, backed off, disappearing into the tall grass and the thick mist. Tossing the broken sword to the earth with disgust, she knelt on one knee beside the still body of the young man. Sighing, she touched the side of his neck, ignoring the tingle bubbling along her nerves, cocking her head to one side. A pulse. Good. Hooking her arms under his body and, with a grunt, lifting him up, Chel took a testy step with one sturdy leg. He was light, enough so that she could carry him with easy. Almost unhealthy light…
Trudging carefully back to the homey lights of the hut, the warm fluids of the large, dangerous wound in his leg staining her bare arms dark red, Chel tilted her face toward the dark clouds, the rain swiftly and harshly pounding on her face. "You," she shifted him as he moaned softly, "better be able to help around the hut, or I'll leave you outside the next time the panthers come calling." Lapsing into silence, she remained so up to the point where she kicked the hut's door loudly.
Llana cracked the door open, then opened it enough to allow her older sister and her burden in. "Are you okay, Chel?" she questioned nervously, eyes flickering to the clotted amount of rain-diluted blood on the young woman's arm. "He's the one you should be asking that of," was the reply.
Setting the body onto the floor with an audible grunt, Chel cracked her knuckles, stepping aside as her more efficient, calm sister began tending to the two injuries he sported. Wrapping bandages around his slender leg, tightly binding it with salve and cloth, Llana worked rapidly and firmly, stopping the blood flow before it got worse.
"There." Leaning back on her heels, Llana nodded briskly. "Chel, take him to my room. I'll be sleeping in your room until he's better." Chel smiled briefly at her younger sibling's youthful confidence.
Before she could follow instructions, however, Llana interrupted. "Wait a second-where's your blade?"
Chel half-grinned. "Broke half of it off in a panther's side," she responded cockily. Llana sighed and hung her head dramatically.
Kuzco woke with a start. Sitting up straight, then wincing and slowly falling back. "Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow."
"'Bout time you woke up, sunshine-and-roses." The voice was female, but with a confidence women, discounting Chicha, lacked. Standing above him was the single most intimidating woman he had ever seen. Again, discounting Chicha. Black hair shorn unevenly short with inky black eyes were the sole decorations on her face.
Abruptly, the young woman sat at the foot of the bed. "Since I can't call you sunshine-and-roses all the time, what's your name and where're you from?" she asked, tone friendly, but stern.
He tried to say 'Kuzco' and 'my Palace,' but the first came out twisted.
"Kazoo?" Chel gasped between laughs, raising an eyebrow. "So, you worked in the palace?" she continued, stopping her flow of snickers and giggles, though still holding a laughing look to her face. Grumbling under his breath, he plastered a false smile on his face and gritted out a 'yes.'
"Okay." The young woman turned and stood up, grabbing a few articles of clothing. "If you're going to be staying here-the Palace is waaaaaaay beyond walking range and our village doesn't have any way to take you back-then you'll need better clothes…and you'll work as soon as your leg and head are better."
He shot up, then flinched and sank back down. "Work?" His voice sounded whiny and desperate even to him. She looked over her shoulder and smirked. "Yes, work. My name's Chel, by the way. My sister, Llana, bandaged you up," she answered kindly, tossing the robes and length of corded rope at him. Catching it, he glanced down despairingly at them. Though they did look rather nicely woven…and the pattern wasn't half-bad.
"Um…thanks," he mumbled. She gave him a lopsided smile. "You're welcome, Kazz. Now sleep."
Lashing the beam tightly with rope, Chel ground her teeth together as she pulled up the broken piece of fence with a mighty heave. Quickly, she tied the rope to another post, intricately looping it around both lengths of wood, then knotting the ends and wedging, with effort, the logical tangle between the rounded boards. Tossing her head and lifting one of her sandaled feet, squarely placing it on the newly repaired fence, she pushed with her leg and pulled at the top of the wood with her strong hands. The wood groaned, then splintered and broke under the pressure. Exasperated, she grasped the rope and swiftly untied the know, unwinding it.
"Need some help?"
Tilting her face back, she grinned at the now-familiar appearance of 'Kazoo' and his makeshift crutch tucked under one arm, hobbling towards her. "Yeah. The fence is harder to mend than I thought."
Kuzco placed the crutch on the ground with not much affection, gingerly lowering himself onto his knees. Examining the ground where the fence posts had been twisted in, he hit upon the answer.
Literally.
Rubbing the scar on his forehead, he tried to recover what part of his dignity remained. How was he supposed to know his knee would slip? And that the fence post would handily be *right* there?
"Think I've found your prob, babe."
"Pardon?"
"Chel. No support down here. What'd you do, just shove the thing into the ground without packing dirt around it?" Looking up, he judged by the redness of her face and the unusual sheepish look that the answer was no. "Well, then, fix it," he ordered.
A moment of silence passed as Chel raised her eyebrow, shrugged and dropped to one knee, placing her hand on his shoulder as she leaned to get a good look.
"No touching!"
Ripping her hand off his shoulder, she shot him a strange look before grabbing his hands and shoving them into the soil. With a yell, he yanked his hands out and glared at her. "What are you trying to do, babe? Remember the three rules: no touching, no work-"
"No food?" she suggested, laughter underlining her voice and he squirmed.
"Okay, point taken, ba-…" His voice trailed off at her how-about-I-kill-you stare and he hastily corrected, "Point taken, Chel. So…" With a disgusted look, he plunged his hands into the moist earth, pressing it into a firmer shape around the wood. Chel smiled briefly, then dug her own hands under, reinforcing the mold he was forming.
After a moment's work, followed by a moment's contemplation, Kuzco grinned devilishly. "Oh, yeah," he smirked smugly and Chel dug her elbow into his rib cage.
"No touching!"
Throwing her head back, Chel laughed freely, slapping his back purposefully.
"Kazz, I think I'm beginning to like you!" she chuckled, rubbing his head in a friendly gesture. Sighing ruefully, Kuzco decided to let the 'no touching rule' slide for once.
"Let's go in before Llana sends out a search party."
"Think they'd bring some food? I am *starved*."
'You know how to cook?"
"Nuh-UH, babe."
"I know three-thousand ways to break your nose. Don't push me."
"Careful. You'll throw off my groove."
"Sure. Poke."
"NO TOUCHING!!!!!!"
Jzni clucked his tongue sadly, walking torturously slow before his many prisoners. Guards glared, servants shivered, wannabe-empresses stared, that reeeeeeeally annoying kid with a lollipop continued that infernal licking-and/or-slurping, and the chef-Kronk, he believed was his name-seemed to be pondering.
Jzni mulled over that idea. No, the guy was too dense to be 'pondering' in any way. Having decided this, the man paraded up to the throne, seating himself in it and snickering evilly and with a high-pitched nasal sound.
A mass shudder swept through the room at the annoying noise.
Whilst the evil advisor-turned-emperor began predictably rambling about his greatness and the beauty of his diabolical schemes, a squirrel snuck in unnoticed, scampering silently across the marble floor in a beeline for Kronk.
His eyes lighting up, Kronk engaged the furry animal in a quiet conversation.
"Squeakity squeakee squeak squeakum squeak?" the man mumbled and the squirrel nodded quickly.
"Ah, squeakitt squeak squea!" Kronk continued and the squirrel nodded again, racing behind Kronk, gnawing quickly through the thick ropes binding his ankles to his wrists.
End AN: And that was Chapter One. Not likely I'll continue…unless I get at least ONE review!! That's all I want…one review…*lower lips trembles* I *know* it was short…most of my stories/chapters *are* short. I'm working on a strange story called "Dear Kronk" in which Kronk takes on a "Dear Abby"-like job and must deal with weird questions and/or topics…like how to fend off two certain rabid fans who want to torture Yzma and kiss Kronk…(not mentioning names….*cough* *cough* SpazSailor *cough* *cough* and *cough* *cough* me *cough* *cough*) Probably won't write it. *&.^* Okay, this is the Kuzco-and-Kronk-loving writer, PallaPlease, signing off!
PS. Read/review/weep/flame. Ja ne!