A/N: I'm sorry I'm late, and I'm sorry there's so much OCs, but canon characters just don't fit the mold sometimes.

Beta Reader: Amazing Sweets Dreamer. Go check out her stories as well. They're far better paced than mine.

The Locking of the Heart:

Chapter Eighteen: Of Tutors and Teachings

Rohan had never been fond of school. It wasn't that she disliked learning, or that she couldn't grasp the concepts presented to her. She just didn't like the idea of sitting in one place for so long, listening to stuffy governesses talk about things they never really learned themselves. The young Princess had always preferred to learn things hands-on.

"Left!"

That being said . . .

"Now right. Faster!"

She would most definitely prefer a written test in martial arts to being subjected to the scary blonde woman's training.

Miss Kurapika was watching her at a comfortable distance, her eyes following Rohan's every move. They were in the courtyard back in the Nostrade mansion, in a spacious pavilion, surrounded by gardens of rose bushes and lilacs and lavender, which smelled lovely but didn't quite set the mood. They were supposed to keep her calm as she fought her animated assailants - robots, apparently, a new technology developed by one of Kurapika's friends, or rather, one of her boyfriend's friends. Kurapika thought they were perfect playmates for Rohan. But . . . but . . . it really hurt when she hit them! Those things were made of metal, dammit!

"Better," Kurapika complimented, as Rohan dashed around the pavilion, "but remember your strength in this attack comes from your core."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"And don't be afraid to put your whole strength into it. The more damage you deal, the better. We'll teach you how to control it later on when we move on to real people."

"Yes, Ma'am!"

"Now, take a break and give me fifty push-ups," she ordered, jumping down from her perch atop one of the stone, horizontal beams that circled around the pavilion.

"That is not a break," Rohan mumbled, though she got into her push-up position regardless and started on her appointed task.

Kurapika pretended not to have heard, but Rohan knew by now that the woman was a force to be reckoned with. She could hear a pin fall in a crowded, rowdy room. She chose not to respond, silent and cold as ice, like an evil Queen who was ready to rip some hearts out. What a terrifying energy.

"Lunchtime!" Neon's brother sang, skipping towards them with bags of food in his arms. "I got us some sandwiches, and drinks, and fries. You're gonna love their fries. Give me a sec to drag the others out here. God, it's a beautiful day to be alive!"

"What's with him?" Rohan asked.

"I wish I knew," Kurapika replied, dryly. "Well, what are you stopping for? It'll take him at least five minutes to round everybody up, you can get a lot of push-ups done in that time."

Rohan groaned but carried on. Damn, was this her punishment for always cutting gym class back in the palace?

Five minutes later, Rohan was on the brink of passing out from exhaustion, Kurapika was still sitting on her trusty stone beam, and Nico was whistling his way towards them with one and a half dozen people, maids and bodyguards alike. Rohan's heart fluttered a bit, heat coloring her cheeks, as Neon walked towards them in a flowing yellow summer dress. It suited her bright blue hair beautifully.

"Hello, Rohan," Neon greeted her with a smile. "Training hard?"

Rohan quickly got to her feet and bowed deeply, as was the custom in Araulia. "Yes, Miss Kurapika has been training me well."

"She's a great teacher, isn't she?" the girl said, most fondly, a tender look on her voice, and Rohan felt her heart fall a bit. So much love was directed at someone else entirely, how was she to overcome it?

"Yes, she certainly pushes you to your limit," Rohan admitted, glancing at the woman, who was currently being pulled into a one-armed hug with Nico as he took a picture - a selfie, it was called here? Kurapika had already taken a bite of her sandwich and appeared rather miffed at being distracted from her food.

"Lulu's gonna love this picture!" Nico proclaimed, grinning as he kept Kurapika's attempts to snatch his phone away at bay. He ran to Neon and hid behind her, as Kurapika advanced towards them with her sandwich abandoned in its paper wrappings on the beam she'd been sitting on.

Nico cackled as the girl circled around Neon in an effort to reach him. "Give it back, Nico!"

"Why? Afraid your boyfriend will see it?" Nico teased.

"Nico Nostrade, that is none of your concern!"

"Yeah, I know, but I'm a meddler, so I practically have to do something about your mess of a relationship," Nico replied.

"It's not a mess."

Nico gave her a pointed look, and she relented. "Alright, it's a bit of a mess, but I'd prefer to clean it up myself."

The man pursed his lips, nodding, "I can respect that." His eyes fell on his phone and enlarged until it looked almost painful. "Damn! I dialed his number!" He shoved it in Kurapika's hands and hid behind her. "You smooth things over with him, Kurapika."

The girl tossed a glare over her shoulder and put the phone to her ear. "Hey, Chrollo."

. . .

The last of Roro's men collapsed on the ground, a sickly gray pallor overtaking his face, his eyes still wide open in horror. Chrollo felt a swell of disgust towards the man, begging for his life when he had taken so many other people's lives and would've undoubtedly taken Kurapika's if Chrollo had allowed him to live. Chrollo's own value of other people's lives might be minimal, but he applied the same value to his own. He would never beg because there wasn't anything worth saving.

His phone rang through the morose atmosphere, that strangely joyous sound grossly juxtaposing the death of the man at his feet. His eyes slipped down to look at the caller ID. 'Nico the Great,' was written in blue digital letters.

"What is it, Nostrade?" he asked, distractedly, as he cleaned up the mess of a body with his Fun Fun Cloth. The job was done in a matter of seconds, and he started walking away from his crimes. Just another smartly dressed man in his late twenties on the phone with a business associate.

"Hey, Chrollo." That wasn't the Nostrade boy. Chrollo's mouth fell open a bit, as he held back a sharp intake of breath. Kurapika. The shock wore off, replaced by tenderness. What a strange tone. It seemed she'd been caught off guard with the call. Nico probably saddled her with the responsibility of talking things through with him.

"To what do I owe the honor of hearing your lovely voice, M'lady?" he teased. It was hard not to revert back to his old habits around her.

"Nico's butterfingers."

He chuckled. "Go easy on the poor man. It must not be easy having to be around you 24/7."

"Oh please, you and I both know you'd die for a chance like that," she replied, and her confidence rang clear in those words. He supposed he preferred her conviction to insecurity, though having her get a little bit jealous from time to time wouldn't be completely unwelcome. Ah, but she'd undoubtedly scream his ear off if he schemed something so trivial.

"That doesn't mean I wouldn't suffer under your rule, my Queen," he continued, and what he would give to see her reaction right then.

He felt eyes on him then. The eyes of women and men alike, lustful and filled with the sort of desire he'd never seen even once in the eyes of Kurapika, though he doubted he himself was free of it.

"What are you doing now?"

He glanced back the way he came. "Just thinning out my brother's network."

"I see," Kurapika replied, her voice laced with an underlying sense of dissatisfaction. She hated the fact that he'd gone on this killing spree. Strangely enough, when he'd told her of his plans the day before he left on his little side quest, she did nothing to stop him. She just gazed up at him with that solemn gaze, the gaze of a woman who used to solely blame him for her sorrow.

"It's the last of them now," he added, ignoring the persistent gaze of a gaudily dressed young woman staring at him from the window of a coffee shop. "I'll be heading back soon to finish disbursing the items. Do you need me for something?"

"No, not really," Kurapika said, voice still thick with the remainder of her resentment.

"Are you sure? I was thinking of making a stop at this great cafe I'm near now, L'estrelle, I hear they're well-known for their pastries."

She went silent for a moment, probably raging a small-scale war within herself. "Buy two of their blueberry muffins, and one of their one of their packaged specialty coffee mixes."

"Anything else, Pika-chan?" he teased.

"Just go buy me some muffins and coffee," she snapped, patience wearing thin.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, cheerfully, walking into the little shop. Sweet smells filled the air, coffee mixed in with freshly baked goods. The cafe itself had a rustic appearance, with wooden walls and counters and floors, colored in warmth.

The woman at the cash register blushed at the sight of him as if on cue. "He-hello, how may I help you?"

"Two blueberry muffins and a bag of one of your specialty coffee mixes, please," he said, politely, and the woman smiled, besotten.

"Right away, sir!" she said, kneeling down and pulling out a paper bag from under the register. She placed two golden brown muffins on a sheet of parchment paper and wrapped both up individually, before placing them in the bag. Then, she grabbed one of the coffee mixes from the back of the shop, returning with a small blue package in her hand. "There you go, sir!"

"Thank you," he replied, pulling out his wallet and handing her a two thousand Jenny bill.

"Come again soon, sir!" she called, as Chrollo turned away. He'd better get back to the Nostrade Mansion soon, he wouldn't want the pastries to get cold.

He was out on the street when the woman approached him. The same one who had been staring at him before. Her cheeks were tinged red, though if it was from her make-up or from embarrassment, he wasn't sure. Clothed in a dark red dress, jacket, and black tights, the woman made sure it was known that she came from a background of wealth. Now, what was she doing out her on her own? Most of the time, people of such status travel with friends or bodyguards, unless . . .

"Sir, please," she spoke, dark eyes frantic, "could you walk me home?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you not have a phone?"

"Yes, but it died out and I forgot my charger," she said, desperate now. "Please, I just need someone to walk me back."

"Your parents think you're out with a dignified young man of high status who might be a prospective husband, but you've actually been using it to cover up activities they might disapprove of," he deduced. The young woman's mouth fell open, and Chrollo smiled. The motion reminded him a bit of Kurapika. "I'm right, then. Well, come on, let's go trick your parents."

The woman started leading him in the direction of her home, still recovering from his astute observation. "How did you know?'

"I didn't. It was just a guess."

Silence followed them, the woman chewing on her bottom lip, until finally, she said, "I'm Catia D'Amica. First-born daughter of the House of Amica. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Chrollo Lucilfer. The pleasure is all mine," he replied.

"Chrollo Lucilfer," the women repeated, walking beside him now. She was a few inches shorter than him, probably around Kurapika's height, with dark, curly hair and dull green eyes. "That's a strange name."

"My parents were strange people," he replied.

Her eyes widened, and she turned to him with an apologetic look on her face. "I meant no harm by it!"

"It's alright. It's just a name, after all," he said, airily, as he tried to remember what the House of Amica boasted so much about. Perhaps, it was something worth stealing. "So, I hear your family protects the Legendary Scrolls of Juvai?"

"Oh, ye -" she caught herself, eyes glued to the pavement now. Too forward, perhaps? "I'm sorry, I'm not supposed to say."

How bothersome. He smiled despite it. "I understand. If I were you, I probably wouldn't divulge such a large secret either."

At least he knew they were there. Now, all he needed was to get inside the house and keep the girl and her family occupied. This trip was turning out to be far more interesting than he'd expected.

"Are the muffins for you?" Catia asked, conversationally, eyeing the bag of muffins curiously. "You don't seem like a muffin person."

"No, these are for a friend of mine. She has an obsession with blueberry pastries, so she forced me to buy these for her," he said, and Catia frowned.

"You seem fond of her."

"I love her."

Catia's eyes narrowed.

"Something wrong?"

"You just don't seem like the type to have any worldly attachment, much less love for a woman," Catia admitted. "I suppose I'm just surprised is all. You called her a friend, though. I assume you're not on very solid ground with this girl."

"A very astute observation," he complimented. "We have a complicated relationship, to say the least."

"Does she not love you back?"

"That is not what I'd call complicated." It would be simple if she did not love him back.

Catia stopped walking. "We're here," she spoke, gazing up at a large wrought iron gate that guarded a large colonial-style mansion that had been painted all white and gray. She turned to him with a grateful expression on her face. "Thank you for walking me here." Then, she stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. Chrollo did nothing, his actions much aligned with his emotions. Three. Two. One.

"Catia!" another woman screeched, running out of the house. Just as Chrollo had predicted, their observers were the girl's parents, surveying the nature of their daughter's relationship with him. The woman enveloped her daughter in a hug. "Oh, you were telling the truth, sweetie! And he's such a handsome man, too."

"Good evening, Miss D'Amico," he replied, politely.

"So well-mannered, too," the mother whispered in her daughter's ear, before looking back towards him. "Would you like to stay for dinner, sir?"

"Just call me Chrollo, and I'm afraid I can't, I could impose," he said, raising his hands placatingly.

Mrs. D'Amico shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. Come on in! We've been waiting so long to finally meet Catia's future husband."

"Mom," Catia grumbled. "Stop it."

"What? Everyone's thinking it. You make a splendid couple," the woman chirped, undoubtedly forming wedding plans in her head already as they walked up the few steps to the door. "Catia and Chrollo D'Amico, uh, what is your last name, Chrollo?"

"Lucilfer."

"Lucilfer? How mysterious. Catia and Chrollo D'Amico Lucilfer. Ooh, you both have C-names. We'll have to give your children C-names as well," she clasped her hands together, joyfully, and Chrollo inwardly cringed at the thought of having children with anyone other than his Pika-chan. The thought of having to share a bed with someone other than Kurapika was a whole other thought he did not want to dive into. It seemed it was either Kurapika or celibacy for him.

Dinner was said to arrive soon, and Chrollo deduced soon would be at least another half hour or so. Just enough to find their precious treasures and get out. He spotted a young maid by the staircase, who caught his eyes and accidentally dropped her feather duster. He picked it up and handed it back to her. The girl pushed some ash-blonde hair from her eyes and thanked him quietly. He smiled. She would do.

"You seem tired," he said. "Don't they give you breaks in the great D'Amica household?"

She avoided eye contact and carried on with her work, saying, "sometimes. If we behave."

Chrollo feined a look of concern. "How long have you been working here?" At least three years would be optimal, but he could work with one if he had to.

"Five years now." She reached up to dust off one of the lamps, took a misstep, and fell right into Chrollo's arms.

"Are you alright?" he asked, helping her regain her balance. The girl brushed him off, displaying an impressive amount of disinterest in him. "Perhaps, you really should take a break."

She shook her head. "I need the money. My family does, I mean. We're very poor, and the D'Amicos pay well, but only if we work."

"Well?"

"Enough to live off of."

He leans against a nearby wall. "What about your future? Surely, you don't intend to continue working for the D'Amicos until you breathe your last breath."

"Not all of us can afford shiny new suits and fancy coffee," she suddenly snapped, furious, and Chrollo saw a bit of Meteor City in her. People so desperate they're willing to do anything just to survive. Should she be forced to kill for her food, she would surely do it.

"I know. You're not the only one who has lived in poverty." Relatability. Check.

The girl glanced at him, a glimmer of surprise on her face. "You?"

"Ever heard of Meteor City?"

Her eyes widened, and there was something distinctly child-like in her expressions. "Impossible. There's no way someone like you could be from there. You look like you've never had to struggle for even an hour."

"I try," he replied. "I suppose it's fitting that I've become an Artifact Hunter since then."

"Artifact Hunter?" she asked, growing less and less interested in cleaning dust off the staircase. "What would you be doing here? I know you're not attracted to Miss Catia. If you were, you wouldn't be talking to me know."

"Clever," he praised, and the maid tried to keep the small, proud smile from crossing her face. "I'm here under the suspicion that the House of D'Amica is holding some very precious, very important artifacts. Ones they undoubtedly bought on the Black Market."

She pursed her lips in thought. "Well, they are rather guarded about the things in the Sun Office on the East side of the mansion. One of the other maids once accidentally went in there and was fired just a week later."

That's a good place to start. "Sound like a lead. Come on."

"I already told you I have to work."

"After today, you'll be laid off, or worse. You've just aided someone in stealing from a high-class family. You do realize what that means?"

The grip around the duster tightened, the girl's face contorting in indecisiveness. She met his eyes and then ascended the steps. There, that was easy enough.

The girl led him down a small corridor off the regular route. The door to the Sun Office was bland and chipping away at the end. The room itself was nothing extraordinary, just an Office with an empty shelf and an old wooden desk and chair. The maid gestured with her arms wide to show the expanse of the tiny room.

"Well, this is it," she said. "Do you think it's in here?"

"Possibly."

"That's reassuring. I just staked my job on chance. Mother would certainly be proud," she said, flatly.

He analyzed the room for hints of the scroll's whereabouts. "She should be. You're taking charge of your own life. As ill-advised as it may be, it's still admirable." His eyes caught onto the empty shelf again. Surely, it was too easy. But then, if a maid could stumble upon it by accident, perhaps he shouldn't toss the idea out altogether.

As quietly as humanly possible, Chrollo moved the shelf aside. Sure enough, there was a small, well-concealed door behind it. It was locked, but Chrollo was a thief and picking locks was something he learned to do as a child. Roro regularly used to bring him elaborate safes to practice on.

"Can you teach me how to pick locks later?"

"Gladly."

The box that evidently contained the scroll didn't have a lock on it. Chrollo couldn't resist rolling his eyes. What a bother. He hated these sorts of things. He supposed now he had to figure out a way to open the damn thing. Or, maybe, he could just take it all. No one would know. Oh, but what if there was a tracking device on it. That would be even more of a bother.

"That's so weird," the maid said, looking over his shoulder, bemused. "Do you see that?"

"Elaborate?"

"It's like this smoke thingy. It's all around it," she replied. Her face donned an expression of fear. "Do you think it's toxic."

Smoke? Chrollo focused his Nen on his eyes. It was just a thin veil, barely there, but it was strong. A shield.

Chrollo let a bit of Nen flow out of his hands, ignoring the maid's baffled countenance. Sure enough, the box slid open, first the top, then the sides, revealing an aged scroll that was a bit weathered at the edges. He summoned his Fun Fun cloth, and the maid looked ready to pass out at the sight of even more crazy magical powers.

"I'll explain later."

She donned that Kurapika-like expression of "you'd better," but before she could say anything her attention was earned by another. "Look out!"

Cold metal pressed against the side of his throat.

"Took you a while," he murmured, not bothering to turn towards the woman as he tried to telepathically give the maid the instructions to stay calm. She seemed to understand.

"Are you a member of the Phantom Troupe," she asked, casting but one threatening glance at the maid. The maid averted her eyes. Chrollo decided it was about time to face the eldest D'Amico.

Catia stood there with a furious look on her face, and Chrollo almost laughed. Compared to Kurapika's, hell, even Gon's angry faces, this was nothing. This woman had not a drop of a killer's blood running through her veins, even as she clutched the rapier in her unskilled, shaky hands.

"The head, actually," he said, standing now so that Catia's rapier had a clear shot for his heart. "News travels fast, hmm. I see the D'Amico's are less saintly than they appear to be."

"Bastard! You're one to talk! You're the one going around killing people!" she screamed back. So noisy.

"So, the life of a murderer is worth less than that of people like you, who have feasted on the lives of others in all your self-indulgence and scheming?" he asked, curiously. If only this was someone less small-minded, they might actually have a decent conversation. Oh well, when he got back to Kurapika and gave her her muffins, they could have a long discussion about philosophy. Ah, the muffins, they must be completely cold now. He better clear this up quickly.

"How dare you -"

She fell to the ground, unconscious, without another word, and Chrollo debated killing her, but that would entail killing her family as well and possibly others who might've cared for the girl, and he had some muffins to deliver.

"Well, it would've been a shame to kill you, anyway."

He started towards the window, past the shaken maid, but before he could even attempt an escape, the maid grabbed his arm. "I thought you said you'd take me with you."

The man turned and gave her a curious look. "I'm a murderer. You heard her. The Phantom Troupe Head: the master of Evil, or whatever you call me here."

"Yeah, you also buy your girlfriend muffins," she said, pointing at the bag in his hands, "so you can't be that bad."

"How do you know they're for my girlfriend?"

"Ah-ha, so you do have a girlfriend!" the girl cheered victoriously. "Does she know you go around seducing young women to steal from their families?"

He considered her question. "Most likely, I'd say. She knows what kind of business I deal in."

"She must be crazy."

"A little."

"I wanna meet her," she declared, "so take me with you. Getting you to fall in love with her is quite a feat. I want to know how she did it. And I don't care if you're the leader of the Phantom Troupe. I can tell you don't go around killing people without a reason."

"Thank you?"

. . .

Kurapika's relentless red pen scrawled a large, glossy C+ across Rohan's first essay. The girl was bright, it was true, but she still had much to learn in terms of focus and eloquence, both vital aspects of a good public speaker. And if the girl was ever to become Queen, she'd need to be a great public speaker.

She set the paper aside and leaned back in her chair, stretching. The door creaked open, and she felt someone familiar approach her before her vision was blocked by a brown paper bag. She held her hands out and her companion dropped it into her palms. A smirk made its way onto her face as she peered inside.

"Four hours just to get a few muffins across the country?"

Chrollo chuckled, taking a seat beside her, a tender look he reserved just for her overtaking his beautiful face. "I got a bit sidetracked."

"Sidetracked? By what?"

"A girl and a few artifacts she possessed," he spoke, and Kurapika's eyes narrowed suspiciously, as she popped a piece of the muffin in her mouth.

"Artifacts?" she asked, skeptically.

He gave her that teasing look that made her bite her lip and caused her cheeks to heat up a little bit. "M'lady, do I detect some jealousy in that melodious tone of yours?"

"What? No! I would never sink so low!" she said, pride flaring. Never in a million years. A Kurta was never jealous. They were a dignified people that would never . . . "Maybe a little bit."

"I also have someone I'd like you to meet later on. She helped me out during the heist. I think you'll get along," the man said. "You're both exceedingly stubborn and treat me horribly."

"HEY!" she protested, kicking him under the table.

He just grinned, and Kurapika felt her heart pick up the pace a bit. She was distracted easily enough when the man materialized his book. Kurapika moved back out of suspicion. Who knew what he had up his sleeve? What if he spirited her off to some exotic location? Certainly, it wouldn't be so bad, and she could use a vacation, but being there with only him would make it far too intimate to just be an outing between friends. Besides, with nothing to ground her, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back. No, it was better that she stay here.

There were no kidnapping attempts that day. Chrollo simply conjured up a cloth of some sort and pulled a scroll out of it. Kurapika gave him a confused look. She liked ancient scrolls as much as anybody, but this certainly wasn't anything phenomenal.

Her body froze as the scroll unraveled into the beautiful, elegant script of the Kurta Clan. At the top, it read "Legendary Scroll of Juvai," on the bottom it was signed.

Lovingly translated like a thousand times by Yuka Hokulani Kurta.

"Mom."

End of Chapter 18

Next on Locking:

It only takes a dream.

(A/N: I'm sorry I didn't manage to give the maid a name. She's gonna be a major character now, so I hope you don't hate her too much. Also, she will not fall in love with Chrollo, and Chrollo will obviously not fall in love with her. They're gonna have more of a father/daughter relationship. She'll kind of be to Chrollo what Saffy was for Kurapika. Except this time, Kurapika will also be there to be her mom. It's gonna be cute. Like a crash course in parenthood, except the child is already in her late teens.)

~ Replies to Reviewers ~

BloodyRose03: Right you are. Thnx so much for reviewing. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far.

sarahmchugs: I'm glad you caught that. I like using little canon moments like that. Thnx for reviewing and I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)

Sweets Dreamer: I think I'm gonna speed things up for them just a little bit to make things even more interesting in the third book. Soon, Chrollo and Kurapika. Patience is a virtue. Soon, you'll be able to love each other as much as you'd like. I hope you regained that sleep eventually! Sleep deprivation is a horrible thing that unfortunately thinks we college students are great victims. Bahari wasn't in the airport, or at least he wasn't supposed to be. Freakin Bahari keeps showing up on transportation vessels. Thank you for your help with this chapter. The Maid wouldn't be a character if not for you. And thank you for reviewing and always supporting this little series.

~ End of Reviews ~