Disclaimer: I don't own the idea, it's called FAN fiction for a reason.

Change in Plans

Taking a break on his way to Thomlan Vel Cerican's (the landlord of an inn who was lately doing pretty well for himself as he upped the charges in the cooler rooms and evicted current residents to make room) Skif slumped up against an old oak tree hoping to cool off. In this heat wave nobody was around in the day and he was taking hold off the opportunities and making his lifts in broad daylight while everyone slept or had left the town for a cooler place.

He turned his head to peer between the bushes nearby, thinking he had heard something; a dedicated Watchman maybe? If so he'd better be prepared with a valid reason for being in the park.

He had heard something, but it wasn't a member of the Watch. There was a beautiful stark white horse wandering around loose in the park, not a person in sight. It had no bridle or any kind of riding aid on which was odd, certainly the owner would need to control the beast even if it wasn't intended for riding?

Skif had never in his life rode a horse, and he was in fact until recently a little scared of them. Life at the church had gotten him used to horses as he had to feed them and clean up after them in the stables, even sleep near them. He would have trouble with the horse as he couldn't ride her and she probably wouldn't like him. A lot of work, but she would fetch a pretty penny bit!

You're mine! He told the grazing mare. Lesse; horse fair's runnin' over on the east side. Or I can take her out of the walls altogether an sell her. Or I kin take her t'Priory an' collect th' reward when she shows up missin'…

The last wasn't a bad idea, but the first was the real money maker. Taking the rope that held together his makeshift backpack he moved slightly readying himself to slip it around her neck. Then he'd have her! It would only be a simple matter of calming the animal and taking her quietly from the park as if he owned her.

Slowly standing upright he quietly began creeping up behind the horse, not even snapping a twig. He planned to get up close enough then surprise her with a rope around her neck and he'd soon be in control. Assuming she didn't squash him.

2 meters from the horse he heard rushing of heavy footsteps getting closer, and fast. The mare's owner or a Watchman! He didn't have time to react however, not even to turn around as he was tackled from behind and sent flying right back over the hedge and somehow landed on his back. The force of impact knocked the wind out of him and he panicked. He gasped desperately for air in his lungs but only got in one breath before his mouth was roughly covered. He struggled to sit up and discovered that there was a heavy weight on him! Real scared now he tried to shake it off only to be pressed into the ground. He just wasn't getting enough air through his nose to think straight, he felt like he was going to pass out. He closed his eyes tight shut and struggled with the weight as time dragged on slowly, only allowing for him to think "oshitoshitoshitoshitoshit, I'm gunna die! Oshitoshitoshit." and these thoughts repeated over and over for a while. Despite all attempts he couldn't move but thankfully his lungs adjusted and soon he was trying to slow his breathing to calm himself down, with little success. Mind sharper now and adrenaline coursing through him he used an old fighter's technique and bit the thing covering his mouth, hard.

He heard a low hiss of "ow!", it was a person on him! Somewhere between crashing on the ground and not being able to breath he had forgotten that that he was tackled by a person. Great. Now that he was thinking he could feel the guys hand over his mouth and the rest of his body effectively keeping him flat and unable to even pound the ground and make a sound; and on top of that the horse theft plan was probably out. One hand was over his mouth, the other was holding down his arm at the elbow and the stranger's body pretty well flattened the rest of him so when he bit the man's hand, although he had expected to be released, the grip on his arm strengthened, hurting it and demanding his obedience. That quite frankly hurt a lot. It reminded him of Kalchan's translation of shuddup.

Skif was left with no options; all he could do was wait for his captor to make his move. This was no one from the Guard, they didn't keep you on the ground like this. No, this was the owner exacting revenge for attempted thievery. But that didn't make sense either! Why was it important to make him a human pancake? If he was a thief he would have told him off by now. These new thoughts did not calm him down, quite the opposite. He felt his heart racing and he couldn't get enough air through his nose. Fighting to remain a sense of calmness, if only to breathe properly, and trying to through off another, larger person in short is not something you ever want to experience.

After what seemed like hours the guy finally got of him, helped by Skif giving him a suitable shove off his legs. Breathing gratefully from his mouth he looked at the man. Effing Bastard. Was the first thing that came to find. Tain't no richie, but 'e ain't a begger neither. He was wearing a light blouse with many patches and probably because of the heat wave had ripped off the sleeves, which left him looking tough. He had on the usual shorts below the knee usually made of heavy cotton, but in this case, seemingly of many different kinds of material though all near the same colour. He couldn't tell if they were actually well patched or not but what he saw did tell him something. This man didn't own that horse; no way in hell, he wasn't wealthy; he didn't even work with horses as he didn't smell of horses or even stables. (He had gotten a good wiff stuck on the ground) Wut duzz'e want? Skif wondered. The man was staring at him and seemed to be deciding something. Whether te turn me in n let the watchman take me or hand me to the owner of da horse hisself, which wouldn't be pretty no doubt.

Remembering his reason for coming he glanced sharply around the park for the white horse and saw her being led away by some obviously rich, pompous fat guy.

Growling slightly at his loss he turned back to the stranger to find that he wasn't there. Turning around to search the street he found that he was circling him and rubbing his chin. Getting very nervous now he asked the question Deek had asked him long ago in the same situation "Wot ye want?" only in a much more annoyed voice.

The man bent down until he was eye to eye with him and responded "I'm looking fer a little thief, much like yerself, to get into where I can't" and with that statement he stood his full height again and asked in a harsher tone "what ye good at kid?"

Thinking fast Skif answered innocently, his eyes getting watery "I wasn' gunna steal the horse sor! She belongs to Mr. Kalchan sor! He told me to get her sor!" Kalchan was the first name that came to his head and he only hopped this man didn't know his uncle. Rule six of thievery- never admit to being a thief.

To his horror the strange man laughed at his act. He didn't believe him. Dammit. He seriously considered running for it while his attacker laughed but figured that he'd catch up with him in no time and certainly wouldn't be so friendly then. Instead he tried to look confused and stared off in the direction "Mr. Kalchan" as if he wanted nothing more than to go apologize and be a good boy. Apparently the guy wasn't going to buy the act period as he slapped his shoulder and said happily, a smile on his face "good, good. You're perfect. Can ye pick pocketzies?" Giving up the act he nodded his head in the positive, but still real confused. So, this guy was looking for a thief? Skif wasn't exactly a thief for hire, but it was his profession. "'N how are ye at house robbing?"

All things considered there really wasn't a better place to have a private conversation as nobody was out, well most weren't. So he answered again braggingly "tain't noone better". This could turn out to be a better deal than the horse snag. Assuming this guy wasn't with the sword seller who could still be after him. Well, he had to chance it. Not only had he admitted to his illegal dealings now, but he really was at the man's mercy. If he wanted to hurt him (more than he already had) there was not a whole lot Skif could do about it.

His answer seemed to be good enough for the man as he grabbed Skif's hand began shaking it in a friendly manner and introduced himself saying joyously "Rick. Splendid to meet you chap. I think we're going to be great friends. And yerself?"

"Me name's Skif." He answered hesitantly, not sure if he was supposed to sound proper like this Rick was. One ting certain. He been doin a bit to much o dat homemade stuff. Rick has sporadic mood swings. Not that Skif actually knew the word sporadic; or mood swings for that matter.

"Skif." Rick said testing it out. "Don't tell the beak's theta one. Not many lad's whos name be Skif." He added. "Excellent fer a thief though. Watchu doin out here?"

Now that was a question he didn't want to answer. But if Rick needed to know that he was a thief, then he should tell him something. "Couple weeks ago I raided Lord Rovenar's."

Instead of disbelief, Rick seemed surprised. It was spread throughout Haven that the Master thief was responsible for that one, but Rick seemed to genuinely think he did it; unless he was having him on. "I wuz wunderin' who did that. Made the master thief look right clumsy you did. Bet 'e dinne appreciate it." Rick said his voice bitter on the last comment.

"What do ye need sor?" Skif asked eager to be on his was. His body was flattened and thus, quite sore but his stomach was begging for attention for some unfathomable reason.

"I already said. I need a small thief, to hep me wit a job." Rick repeated and asked, in a pleasant tone "Since ye got no business out 'ere what say we head on to my place. I'll give ye some grub 'n I can lay out da plan. Sound good?" Skif had to consider it. Rick didn't seem bad and there were some things you could talk about out in the street and some you couldn't. Like a major thievery, for example. But on the other hand, he didn't want to go to Rick's house, it could be a set up or who knows what. Instead he asked "Did ye have ter squish me? I coulda got 'er."

"Hmmm. One, you wouldn't 'ave made it afor the master saw you wit 'is pretty horse and second I saw wat you was doin and I thought maybe you be good for the pickin o valuables to. Good decision on my part. But ye dinne answer my question."

There was no way around it. He offered "meet me here tomorrow at dawn. I got somewhere to be." Of course he didn't really. He could steal from Cerican's house anytime, he just wanted to follow Rick home and find out what he was really like before committing to something he might not like. That and he wasn't all that happy with Rick who had made him into a pancake and was certain he was going to have some serious bruises tomorrow morning.

Rick agreed and left the park, Skif following a ways behind, doing his best not to be seen in the empty streets. He only hoped that this new campaign was more profitable than the horse he lost (which he blamed entirely on "Rick") or any normal roof walking. If Rick turned out to be a bad partner, then he could just not show tomorrow. Although he was kinda curious as to find out what this big lay was that Rick needed his help with, and was getting very tired of living with the church people, maybe he and Rick could set up a gang teaching littles how to nobble. Like Bazie did. That was a good set up.

Authors Notes:

So, what do you think? I believe that there just aren't enough fanfics about Skif out there. I mean really, you read all about the noble characters and their horses but Skif is so much cooler! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW pls!