Disclaimer- Roses are red, Violets are blue, Me no own, You no sue!
I own nothing, not even the disclaimer. After all, this is a story about thieves yes? And what are thieves except those who play with other people's toys?
An Afternoon in The Big Easy
Remy LeBeau was enjoying a fairly typical day. He had finished lessons with his tutors around midday, spent time honing his skills with older members of the guild, and was now free to roam the streets of New Orleans for the remainder of the afternoon. As the young thief was watching the tourists, scanning for any who would be an interesting or challenging mark, he felt a small boy brush past him. Feeling the boy's fingers dip into his pocket, Remy grabbed the offending hand and spun the would-be pickpocket into the nearest alleyway. Although the child twisted and yanked back and forth, trying every which way to escape, he couldn't get his hand free of Remy's firm grip.
"Here now, be still."
As he spoke, Remy took a good look at the child in front of him. He looked to be around eight or nine years old, with dark wavy locks of hair falling in front of piercing blue eyes. He was thin, but from a naturally slender build instead of lack of nourishment. The boy was dressed in fairly nice clothes, normal for a child his age. Although slightly dirty and rumpled, the little one looked like any other child on vacation with his family. Finished with his examination, Remy noticed that the boy had stopped trying to get away, and was now watching his captor guardedly.
"What're you going to do?" questioned the boy, tense and ready to bolt at a moment's notice.
"I'm not going to hurt you," reassured the older teen. After a brief internal debate, he added, "I'm going to teach you to do it right."
Ignoring the boy's stunned expression, the young thief continued.
"Your approach was good, quick and inconspicuous. You do well using your size to avoid attention. However, you made several mistakes. Firstly, what were you after? I know you hadn't been watching me for more than half a minute or so, and I showed no indications of carrying a fat wallet or other valuables. You can't just expect to walk up to someone, put your hand in their pocket and grab whatever is inside."
Before Remy could continue, the boy's composure broke and he exclaimed indignantly, "I did too have a target!"
The outrage in his voice greatly amused the older boy, and he smirked darkly as he asked, "Oh really? Then what was it, do tell?"
The boy pouted, before pointing toward Remy's coat pocket and saying in a much quieter tone of voice, "Your... your lighter." As Remy frowned at the answer, he continued in a slightly stronger tone, "You kept taking it out of your pocket and playing with it, and it looked kinda expensive so..." here he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders and refusing to explain his motives further.
Remy looked at him, before reaching into his coat pocket and drawing out his favorite lighter. It was a sleek black, with a strange crest etched in red on one side, and his initials on the other. The crest was the mark of the Thieves' Guild, and would be unidentifiable to anyone not familiar with the criminal underworld. The lighter itself had been a gift from his adopted father, Jean-Luc LeBeau, on Remy's last birthday. He looked first at the object, then back at the boy.
"This is what you wanted?" he asked. The boy nodded.
"Hmm. You have excellent taste, but I'm afraid it will be staying with me. This is a lighter for a thief," he paused.
"Which you are clearly not, as evidenced by your second mistake. I felt your knuckles poke me during the lift." The boy again looked greatly offended, but Remy continued on.
"Pay attention! Use your pointer and middle finger like tweezers. The thumb should never touch the mark." Remy smirked as he quoted the maxims other thieves in the Guild had drilled into him.
"Your last and most important mistake. Never try and steal from a thief. Especially not from the Prince of the Thieves' Guild."
The boy's wide blue eyes were fixed on the older thief as he continued to demonstrate different tricks and techniques, ways to lift various objects, and warning signs to watch out for.
After finishing his lecture, Remy looked down at his young student and said, "Now then, go and show me you were listening. I want you to find a mark, and practice some of tricks I taught you. We'll see how well you do. Bring me back something interesting, not just a wallet or a nice watch."
The boy stared up at the older youth with a mixture of incredulity, fascination, and fiery determination on his young face. He then turned and began observing the crowd of people passing through the busy street in front of them. Impossibly blue eyes fixed on an older man in expensive looking clothes who was walking down the street with an obvious air of impatience. A fine example of the perfect mark.
The boy suddenly stepped out of the alley, silently weaving his way through the mass of people in the street. He approached his mark, but stayed just far away enough to not be seen yet. He then broke into a run, impacting with the man. The mark stumbled and dropped his briefcase, which fell open and scattered papers everywhere. He looked down to see what had jolted him. The boy had fallen to the ground, and small tears were running down his cheeks. The man reached down to help the child up, quickly looking him over before letting him go. The child apologized profusely, running his hands over the man's jacket to straighten it. He then bent to start gathering the fallen papers. The man took the documents from him and hurridly stuffed them back into the briefcase. After muttering an admonition to be more careful in the future, he walked away, already thinking about whatever important thing he was about to be late for. He gave no more thought to the small boy who stood quietly grinning after him, all tears miraculously vanished from his face.
The little thief turned around and ran back to the alley. Once he was inside, he smirked at Remy before pulling out his prizes. A pinky ring, with an expensive looking jewel set in the center, a gold money clip, and an engraved tie pin were cupped carefully in little hands. Remy looked over them. He was pleased to find that none of the items had a name or initials on them. Perhaps the boy did know what he was doing after all.
"Well done." he grudgingly said. The child's face broke into a brilliantly white smile at the praise.
"I made sure not to let my knuckles or my thumb touch him. Just like you told me too, even though I knew that already." The last bit was spoken with an extreme air of superiority.
"Very well then, if you know so much, then tell me why you took these things instead of something else." Remy challenged.
"Well, you don't take phones ever, and his pocket watch had his name on it. You said something interesting, so I left the money and the wallet. He didn't bend down far enough for me to take his tie, that would've been fun though. I figured this'd be stuff you could take to a pawn shop or something to fence. Less risk, but still a pretty good haul."
Remy was impressed with the boy's reasoning, but kept his thoughts from showing on his face. "So, little one, you do know a bit about thieving," He frowned.
"Your arrogance will get you in trouble though. You took extra time taking the money clip. If he hadn't been in such a rush, he might have caught you with a hand in his wallet. Don't be so flashy- it's a easy mistake to make, but I've seen too many thieves caught because they tried to do too much."
He could see that while the boy was listening, he was getting bored with the lecture. "Alright then. You'll do fine."
He grunted, "Not bad for a kid." Once again, he was treated with a megawatt grin. "Go on then" he made shoo-ing motions at the boy.
Before I go," said the child, "will you answer a question?"
"Depends on the question." Remy was curious, what could the boy be wanting?
"What's the Thieves' Guild?"
Ah, so that was it. Remy supposed that he probably shouldn't have mentioned it in the first place. He hadn't counted on the boy being so observant though. He wondered exactly how much he should tell his little pupil, or if he should even answer at all. Those outside the Guild were not to learn of its existence, or the secrets it kept.
Just as he was about to speak, a woman's voice came from across the street.
"Neal!" she hollered. The boy instantly stiffened, spinning towards the direction of the cry.
"Neal, where are you? I swear, if you've run off again..." As she continued to yell, the boy smiled sheepishly at Remy.
"Maybe you can tell me another time. Thanks for everything mister, but I gotta go."
He bit his lip, and seemed to be debating something with himself, before dashing forward and wrapping his arms around the thief.
"Get going then, your mama sounds mighty worried." said Remy as he pushed the young boy away. The kid looked up and winked with eyes bluer than the sky, before running out of the alley and back to his mother.
Chuckling, Remy also stepped out into the street, intending to head home. He reached absentmindedly into his coat pocket, intending to fish out his lighter, but his fingers grasped nothing save the empty lining. As realization hit him, his mouth contorted into something halfway between a grimace and a smirk. So the boy had listened. Impudent scoundrel! For all Remy's annoyance at losing the lighter, the boy was a thief after his own heart.
"It was nice meeting you, Neal." whispered the young man, as he blended back into the street, moving back into the writhing, sprawling mass of people known as New Orleans. He told no one else of his encounter with the interesting boy, and although he wondered what became of the talented youngster, Remy eventually put the events of that afternoon out of his mind. He would not remember anything of that day many years to come.
Author's Note
Hi! Thanks so much for reading my story. It's the first story I've ever published, so I would really appreciate any reviews. Constructive Criticism is welcome, but flames will be used to roast marshmellows and you won't get any!
This story was not Beta-read. All mistakes are my own.
Just to clear up a couple of things-
-In my headcanon, Remy is about 15, and Neal is 8. This would take place directly before the Tilling fiasco, so Remy's powers weren't mentioned. I tried to skirt around creating a backstory for Neal, since we really don't have any canon info on his early life. Just fill in whatever blanks you need too with your imagination, mkay?
-I did not write in Remy's accent. I assume you all know that Cajuns have a unique way of speaking, but for the purpose of this story, everything is written in (mostly) correct English.
Originally I had intended this to be a series of one-shots. If you'd like me to continue, please tell me. Or, if you think this is fine how it is, you can tell me that. However, my life has gotten really crazy recently, so I probably won't have anything new for a month at the least.
The One-Eyed Lady