Disclaimer: If I owned any of this would there be a need for a disclaimer? Honestly. All characters except for the Winthairs property of Cornelia Funke.
Violet Sighted Love
Chapter Two
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Aurora walked the streets of Venice wondering what to do, the memory of the little thief still in her mind. I've never seen someone so nervy, she thought. Like he couldn't see my sword, how dare he!? Aurora continued to berate herself. Aurora had grown up tutored in the art of sword-craft, and considered herself one of the best. No one had challenged her in years, and the fact that a common thief managed to miff her considerably infuriated her. If she had a fault in her life, it was her arrogance. Her mother had always said that she had inherited it from her father, and that it had gotten him killed. Determined not to be skewered with a sword as her father had, Aurora trained. Half of her life was spent fencing, dodging, and charging at her tutor with various blades.
Turnus Winthair had been a bold, old-fashioned warrior. He was a member of the Italian mafia, and more often then not a truly evil man. He had married his wife with the only intention of having a child to take over the family "business." He was conniving and had a malevolent intelligence at his disposal, two things that had saved his life at many a time, but ultimately had not kept him alive. These traits had been passed down to Aurora, and she at times couldn't decide whether she loved or hated them. Turnus had been furious at the birth of his firstborn- a measly girl. He had been hoping for a boy -girls couldn't do anything fighting-wise and Aurora's birth had been a major disappointment in his eyes. So Aurora grew up unloved, except for her mother, who cherished her and called her, "My miracle baby".
Although her mother's love helped, all Aurora ever really felt was the thirst to prove her-self to her father (hence the sword-lessons).
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Flash-Back: 1999.
Aurora had been sparring hard for hours, her new leveling up to a sensei level with her steel katana (A/n: Sorry, can't spell) blade fresh on her roster of skills, and was eager to show the one man in her life her skills. Turnus walked into the room, his own blade hanging in a scabbard over his back, and a Japanese-style headband on his forehead.
"Well, girl," Turnus said in his usual arrogant drawl. "Your teacher says there are things you are ready to show me," Turnus sucked his teeth, and glanced at his nails. "You may spar against me, if you still think yourself worthy?" Turnus glanced up, and stared at his wilting daughter through hard, grey eyes.
"Yes, Father," Aurora answered him lamely. She had wanted to show him her skills against her teacher, who she could now defeat; she had never thought that she would joust with Turnus Winthair himself. But this was her only chance to show him she wasn't useless, she had to try! "I believe I may do better this time. My teacher deems me at sensei level, sir." It was always this way when Turnus conversed with his daughter– he demanded it. Any disrespect and she was whipped and made to do chores for the daywith the servants.
"Very well," Turnus grunted and unsheathed his sword before charging his now firm-standing daughter. Turnus lifted his blade and swiftly brought it down over his daughter's head, but she was ready; Aurora quickly lifted her own, shorter blade and blocked her father's blow. Turnus was forty-three, and much stronger. It took little effort for the bigger man to shove the nine-year-old to the ground. Aurora clung to her sword, trying to fight him off, but eventually lost her strength, and dropped the blade. It was then that Turnus drew blood. With a simple flick of his wrist, he tore a deep nick in poor Aurora's cheek, then turned and left the room, leaving Aurora to tend her wound alone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aurora continued to wander aimlessly in the streets, not knowing what she was looking for, but knowing she couldn't stop. Lifting her arm to her left cheek, Aurora gingerly traced the thin, white scar that now marred her once flawless face. She sighed, and moved on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Scipio raced down the Campa Santa Margherita, checking every alley-way and behind every paper-stack. The gang was nowhere. He ran up to the Caribinieri, panting and out of breath.
"Have you, did you see a group of children come through her?" Scipio was desperate, he could hear the panic in his voice, and felt the sweat running down his face,
"Dottore Massimo! Sir, please, calm yourself! This is the site of a recent death, I assure you that no one has been through the area!" Scipio didn't bother to correct them on his name, he had long become used to it, but he continued to look frantically about, searching every nook and cranny of the Campo with his eyes.
"Sure," he said, his voice filled with resignation, and comprehension beginning form in his mind. Prosper had led the others away, to keep them out of the orphanage. Typical Prosper behavior, never one to lead his friends into trouble, and always the first to get them out of it. He had to find them! Where would they have gone? When Mosca left to go on a fishing trip in the Mediterranean, Riccio had moved in with everyone else, not wanting to be alone. Had they gone to Mosca's old hide-out? It was too bad that Scipio didn't even know where it was. His only hope was if Victor knew, so with dismay on his face, Scipio trudged back to the office to share the terrible news.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Prosper sighed deeply as he counted the little money they had. Desperately he had asked Riccio to steal something so they could get lunch, but he had thought that the boy would have the sense to rob someone who wasn't armed. Or dangerous. Riccio still denied the fact that he knew she had the weapon, but both Prosper and Hornet knew that Riccio had only wanted a challenge to warm himself up.
Prosper thought back to the girl. He had never seen her before, meaning she was probably a tourist, but her Italian had been stunning! She was a natural. Maybe a runaway? Prosper continued to ponder the matter until Hornet punched him in the arm and pointed out that he was standing looking off into space like an idiot.
"I can't believe that the sight of a single girl would faze you so! You're drooling!" Hornet was angry. Angry splotches of red had appeared on her face and neck, the way they always did when she was upset.
"I am not!" Prosper exclaimed indignantly, but nevertheless turning around and wiping the spit away surreptitiously.
"That wasn't any girl," Riccio said through a mouthful of cake. "Did you see the way she used that sword? She was some kind of sabre prodigy!"
"Firstly," answered Prosper, "I agree. Secondly, it was a rapier, not a sabre; and thirdly, where did you get that cake?!"
"I don't know, some one dropped it. It's not all bad," Riccio reasoned through the cake, "there's not much dirt, and I'm starved!" Even Bo was scared by the emphasis put on much.
"Well, the amount of dirt I eat is no problem compared to what we've got to deal with now!" Riccio stuffed the rest of the dropped cake into his mouth and smiled with relish. "Well?" Prosper didn't like the look on his face. Neither did Hornet. Or Bo. "Real smart, guys. Where are we going to stay?" Hornet and Prosper looked at each other as their faces fell at the thought.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's note: Well, there you have it. Chappy two!! Aren't you all proud of me? I wrote this chapter at five in the morning with the inspiration given to me by first reviewer! Thanks, crystaldolphin88!! Well, you know the deal. I give you this spectacular chapter *thinks silently to herself yeah, right and laughs hysterically.* and you review!
Love you all!
~*~*-magic-*~*~
Violet Sighted Love
Chapter Two
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Aurora walked the streets of Venice wondering what to do, the memory of the little thief still in her mind. I've never seen someone so nervy, she thought. Like he couldn't see my sword, how dare he!? Aurora continued to berate herself. Aurora had grown up tutored in the art of sword-craft, and considered herself one of the best. No one had challenged her in years, and the fact that a common thief managed to miff her considerably infuriated her. If she had a fault in her life, it was her arrogance. Her mother had always said that she had inherited it from her father, and that it had gotten him killed. Determined not to be skewered with a sword as her father had, Aurora trained. Half of her life was spent fencing, dodging, and charging at her tutor with various blades.
Turnus Winthair had been a bold, old-fashioned warrior. He was a member of the Italian mafia, and more often then not a truly evil man. He had married his wife with the only intention of having a child to take over the family "business." He was conniving and had a malevolent intelligence at his disposal, two things that had saved his life at many a time, but ultimately had not kept him alive. These traits had been passed down to Aurora, and she at times couldn't decide whether she loved or hated them. Turnus had been furious at the birth of his firstborn- a measly girl. He had been hoping for a boy -girls couldn't do anything fighting-wise and Aurora's birth had been a major disappointment in his eyes. So Aurora grew up unloved, except for her mother, who cherished her and called her, "My miracle baby".
Although her mother's love helped, all Aurora ever really felt was the thirst to prove her-self to her father (hence the sword-lessons).
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Flash-Back: 1999.
Aurora had been sparring hard for hours, her new leveling up to a sensei level with her steel katana (A/n: Sorry, can't spell) blade fresh on her roster of skills, and was eager to show the one man in her life her skills. Turnus walked into the room, his own blade hanging in a scabbard over his back, and a Japanese-style headband on his forehead.
"Well, girl," Turnus said in his usual arrogant drawl. "Your teacher says there are things you are ready to show me," Turnus sucked his teeth, and glanced at his nails. "You may spar against me, if you still think yourself worthy?" Turnus glanced up, and stared at his wilting daughter through hard, grey eyes.
"Yes, Father," Aurora answered him lamely. She had wanted to show him her skills against her teacher, who she could now defeat; she had never thought that she would joust with Turnus Winthair himself. But this was her only chance to show him she wasn't useless, she had to try! "I believe I may do better this time. My teacher deems me at sensei level, sir." It was always this way when Turnus conversed with his daughter– he demanded it. Any disrespect and she was whipped and made to do chores for the daywith the servants.
"Very well," Turnus grunted and unsheathed his sword before charging his now firm-standing daughter. Turnus lifted his blade and swiftly brought it down over his daughter's head, but she was ready; Aurora quickly lifted her own, shorter blade and blocked her father's blow. Turnus was forty-three, and much stronger. It took little effort for the bigger man to shove the nine-year-old to the ground. Aurora clung to her sword, trying to fight him off, but eventually lost her strength, and dropped the blade. It was then that Turnus drew blood. With a simple flick of his wrist, he tore a deep nick in poor Aurora's cheek, then turned and left the room, leaving Aurora to tend her wound alone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Aurora continued to wander aimlessly in the streets, not knowing what she was looking for, but knowing she couldn't stop. Lifting her arm to her left cheek, Aurora gingerly traced the thin, white scar that now marred her once flawless face. She sighed, and moved on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Scipio raced down the Campa Santa Margherita, checking every alley-way and behind every paper-stack. The gang was nowhere. He ran up to the Caribinieri, panting and out of breath.
"Have you, did you see a group of children come through her?" Scipio was desperate, he could hear the panic in his voice, and felt the sweat running down his face,
"Dottore Massimo! Sir, please, calm yourself! This is the site of a recent death, I assure you that no one has been through the area!" Scipio didn't bother to correct them on his name, he had long become used to it, but he continued to look frantically about, searching every nook and cranny of the Campo with his eyes.
"Sure," he said, his voice filled with resignation, and comprehension beginning form in his mind. Prosper had led the others away, to keep them out of the orphanage. Typical Prosper behavior, never one to lead his friends into trouble, and always the first to get them out of it. He had to find them! Where would they have gone? When Mosca left to go on a fishing trip in the Mediterranean, Riccio had moved in with everyone else, not wanting to be alone. Had they gone to Mosca's old hide-out? It was too bad that Scipio didn't even know where it was. His only hope was if Victor knew, so with dismay on his face, Scipio trudged back to the office to share the terrible news.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Prosper sighed deeply as he counted the little money they had. Desperately he had asked Riccio to steal something so they could get lunch, but he had thought that the boy would have the sense to rob someone who wasn't armed. Or dangerous. Riccio still denied the fact that he knew she had the weapon, but both Prosper and Hornet knew that Riccio had only wanted a challenge to warm himself up.
Prosper thought back to the girl. He had never seen her before, meaning she was probably a tourist, but her Italian had been stunning! She was a natural. Maybe a runaway? Prosper continued to ponder the matter until Hornet punched him in the arm and pointed out that he was standing looking off into space like an idiot.
"I can't believe that the sight of a single girl would faze you so! You're drooling!" Hornet was angry. Angry splotches of red had appeared on her face and neck, the way they always did when she was upset.
"I am not!" Prosper exclaimed indignantly, but nevertheless turning around and wiping the spit away surreptitiously.
"That wasn't any girl," Riccio said through a mouthful of cake. "Did you see the way she used that sword? She was some kind of sabre prodigy!"
"Firstly," answered Prosper, "I agree. Secondly, it was a rapier, not a sabre; and thirdly, where did you get that cake?!"
"I don't know, some one dropped it. It's not all bad," Riccio reasoned through the cake, "there's not much dirt, and I'm starved!" Even Bo was scared by the emphasis put on much.
"Well, the amount of dirt I eat is no problem compared to what we've got to deal with now!" Riccio stuffed the rest of the dropped cake into his mouth and smiled with relish. "Well?" Prosper didn't like the look on his face. Neither did Hornet. Or Bo. "Real smart, guys. Where are we going to stay?" Hornet and Prosper looked at each other as their faces fell at the thought.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's note: Well, there you have it. Chappy two!! Aren't you all proud of me? I wrote this chapter at five in the morning with the inspiration given to me by first reviewer! Thanks, crystaldolphin88!! Well, you know the deal. I give you this spectacular chapter *thinks silently to herself yeah, right and laughs hysterically.* and you review!
Love you all!
~*~*-magic-*~*~