She was first aware of the cold.
It was the cold that brought Arianna back from unconsciousness. She shook her head, and instantly regretted it as her head began to pound.
She groaned in pain, cradling her head in her hands.
Clink clink.
She blinked a few times, clearing the blurriness from her vision, and looked to her hands. Strong iron shackles were locked around her wrists. Her eyes followed the large chains to the stone wall. They were attached onto a large iron spike set deep into the stones.
She was caught, locked up and everything.
She reached for her pocket that held her lockpicks.
"They aren't there," came a voice, one she vaguely remembered from before she blacked out.
She looked over and noticed a guard sitting in a chair across from the cell she was being held in.
The man stood and paced before the bars, remaining silent. She watched him carefully.
The man before her was no simple guard, as she had first thought. His armor was fine steel plate, much nicer than the iron chainmail of the other guards. A sword swung at his hip, clanking against the plated armor on his leg as he walked. This weapon was not the standard mace that was issued to all of the guards. The burgundy cloak that was fastened around his shoulders held a golden trim.
She knew who this man was. Captain Johnathan Borcus, a thief's worst nightmare in Ardougne. He was known among her people to not be lenient to those caught.
She glanced up to his face. Had this been any other situation, she would've said the man was handsome. He had close cropped strawberry blonde hair that made him look much younger than she knew he was. The deep lines that etched across his forehead from years of worry were the only betrayal of his age. His eyes were dark against his fair complexion. Years of time with the guards and in battles left him wise, and that wisdom showed in his eyes. But with that wisdom, there was also hatred, hatred that flared up every time he looked at her, as though she was everything he hated in the world.
"You thieves," said the captain. "Thinking that anything you can get your hands on is just free for your taking."
"Well, it is if we don't get caught," she added, deciding to be smart.
He glared at her, a look of absolute loathing, as if she was the core of all of his problems. "Ah, but you were caught." He smiled slyly. "That poison is a fine one. Imported from an apothecary from Varrock. You've been out for hours, and I bet you still have no feeling in your fingers."
She pressed her finger tips together and could barely feel the touch through the numbness.
"Such elegant hands," he said, watching her movements. "You could've been a lady of the court with your beauty, working on intricate needlework or other…delicate works with those hands…"
His implications sent shivers down her spine.
"Too bad that you'll be losing them as punishment for your crimes."
"What?!" she said, unable to hold back the outburst.
"Yes, thief. The cost of your crimes against our city is your thieving hands! You'll be brought before King Lathas and your sentence will be passed." His eyes watched her carefully, looking for any kind of reaction from her, but she kept her emotions carefully locked away. "Well, thief, I'll be seeing you in a few days when you go to see the king. I hope you enjoy your cell, since you won't be getting out any time soon. Especially without these."
She looked up and saw her precious lockpicks in the captain's gloved hands.
"Strange how so many of my problems stem from these little tools," he said, looking down at the fragile instruments. He was still for a few moments, then snapped them all. He let the metal pieces fall to the stone floor. He turned and left her alone.
She stared at the small pile of what had previously been her most handy tools. She let out a long sigh of frustration, and of anger. Getting more of those lockpicks was going to be very difficult, especially now that she most definitely wasn't going to be making any profit from this.
Not that they'd be any use to her if she lost her hands.
She shivered at the thought, looking down at her hands which were slowly gaining feeling again. She had to get out of there before that could happen.
She didn't know how long she spent trying to break out, or how many different things she tried. The chains that held here were free of any traces of rust and set with a sturdy base into the stone wall. No amount of tugging would make it budge. The chains also prevented her from reaching any of the broken lockpicks. She scanned the cell for something thin enough to use as a makeshift pick, but the cell was bare of anything.
She sighed and shivered, aware of the cold once more. She looked up and found a barred opening high above her. Small snowflakes fell between the bars into the cell and they melted as they fell upon her cheeks. The snow storm had blown itself out, and through the opening she could hear the city beyond waking up.
She was stuck, at least for the time being. She silently prayed, for the first time in a long while, that some kind of opportunity would arise to get out of this situation. For now, she'd just have to get comfortable here.
And first was to get the cold from her mind.
Naturally, she thought back to her adventures in the desert.
I know it's short, but here's chapter 2. I promise from here on out, the rest of the chapters end up being pretty long.
So, yeah. Read. Enjoy. Review. Thanks.
And until next time, cheers.