Another pic of Donny Lewis <3

*****

Harper was exhausted.

He'd spent the entire night in a mud bog, waiting for the Duchess of Celbury to ride by in her fancy carriage so he could steal her family jewels.

And she'd never shown up--apparently his information was incorrect.

As if that wasn't bad enough, he returned to find that while he was gone, the King had captured Curse and then thrown a huge party to celebrate the accomplishment.

Harper didn't care about the pirate. Or the party.

What he did care about was the fact that everyone had stayed up drinking past dawn, and the moment he walked into camp, he was sentenced to sentry duty since he was sober and they were not.

So now, halfway through the cool fall morning, Harper was sitting in a tree, watching the shadows dance through the forest on the edge of Thieves' City. All he wanted in the world was a bit of sleep, or even better, a bath, but instead he was stuck here until someone decided to relieve him.

And who knew when that would that happen? Harper had half a mind to go back into the city and drag their lazy, carousing butts out into the sunlight. He leaned against the tree trunk, straddling a thick branch. It should've been uncomfortable, but as a child of the Dark Forest, Harper was used to spending his nights in the trees.

It was almost comforting, really, lulling... he could easily fall asleep...

He was jerked out of his half-asleep state some time later, at the sound of footsteps in the underbrush. He peered down to the forest floor, alert for any danger.

But the person wasn't coming from outside--no, they were coming from within the city. This was a fairly well-used trail, which was why he'd chosen to guard it out of all the others. If anyone was headed into the city it would probably be from this direction.

He hadn't, however, expected anyone to be leaving the city, not with the headaches he was sure they all had. Harper palmed a dagger, silently, carefully. He doubted that he would need it, but you couldn't be too careful.

The person--no, people, there were two--came into sight, and all thoughts of danger fled Harper's mind. Instead, there was shock.

And anger.

Helene Hayes walked into his line of sight, her long brown hair loose around her shoulders. She walked carefully, her footsteps light, and she looked around as if she was afraid of being discovered.

What by the Goddess...

Then, he saw the reason for her caution.

Trailing behind her on strangely silent feet came a hulking beast of a man that Harper had never seen before. His plain white shirt and brown trousers were ragged, and he was barefoot, which explained his ability to move so quietly.

He had a strange appearance, shaggy black hair and an overall disheveled look about him, but his strength was unmistakable. It was in every line of him, in the way he walked, the tilt of his head, the huge frame that moved with so much grace.

Helene stopped, turned back to the man, and Harper's fingers clenched around the hilt of his dagger. He couldn't understand what was happening, and he was both worried and furious at once.

"Here. This path will take you to the Light-Giver's convent on the edge of the Forest. The main road isn't too far from there."

The man looked down at Helene, smiled a rakish smile that made Harper want to kill him. Who did the man think he was, smiling at Helene like that?

"And t' way back, ta t' oth'r side of t' city." He looked around, his keen gaze sweeping the trees. "'ow do I get there?"

Helene frowned. "There's a path that goes 'round, but... why would you want to know that? You aren't planning to join the King, are you?"

The man laughed. "No' a chance, love. 'e's got somethin' I want, tha's all."

Helene's eyes widened. "You came here to steal from the King of Thieves?"

A grin this time, quick and powerful. Harper considered burying his dagger in the man's neck, but he was curious as to what exactly was happening. He would wait, just a little while.

"I'm a pirate, love. Stealin's our job."

A pirate? Was it possible... could this man be Curse? But no. Of course not, Helene was not that stupid. Helene would never help Curse. She wouldn't.

But an intense sort of fear was beating a pulse in the base of his throat and he was afraid, so very afraid, that he was wrong about his little sister.

That she really was just gullible enough, just foolish enough, just romantic enough, to lend aid to a man like that, a man who smiled at her as if he owned the whole world.

Harper didn't really care whether or not she wanted to help the pirate. But if Curse laid a single finger on Helene, Harper would kill him.

"Yes but... he'll kill you! He already hurt you once--"

Curse lifted a hand and placed a finger over her mouth, as if she was a child that needed shushing. Harper growled, and he was clenching the dagger so hard that his bones ached.

"Don'a be worryin' 'bout me, lass. I be knowin' wha' I'm doin'."

"Wrong." Harper said, loud enough for them to hear. He dropped from the tree, landing mere feet away from Curse and Helene. Helene gasped, her eyes going wide. "You should be worried about him, Hellie. You should be very worried." Harper drew a second dagger, held them lightly in his hands, calm now that he was doing something about the situation.

Curse turned slowly, an arrogant tilt to his head as he surveyed Harper. "And ye would be...?"

"Oh no, don't hurt him!" Helene's words were worried, almost frantic. Harper opened his mouth to tell her that of course he was going to hurt Curse--but then she put a hand on the pirate's arm, looked up at him pleadingly. "He's my brother, see. He's just trying to protect me."

Harper ground his teeth--did she have so little confidence in his abilities as a fighter? How could she think he would lose to this idiot seafarer?

Curse looked down at Helene, then back at Harper. The arrogance and wariness were gone, replaced by what Harper thought was amusement. "Ye're brother, eh?" Curse chuckled, leaned back on his heels. "Fancy tha'."

Harper growled. "I'm going to kill you."

Curse looked at him, tilted his head as if he was studying Harper, trying to figure out how he worked. "All right." He said, simply, and Harper blinked, caught off guard.

"Just like that?"

Curse grinned. "Well, I canna begrudge ye it, can I? I be a pirate and I done wha' pirates do." He said, and Harper knew then, not just by the words but by the way that Helene looked down and blushed, that Curse had done far more than just touch his little sister.

Anger, hot and heavy and blazing, rose up inside him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this angry--in fact, he didn't think he'd ever been this angry. He was usually a fairly peaceful man.

"Jus' one ting, though. Look at yersel', mate. Yer na in any sort'a shape ta take me on."

Harper's lips curled into a snarl. "I can bloody well try."

"Aye, ye can. But ye'll die."

"I'm stronger than I look."

The pirate sighed, shook his head, crossed his arms. "Ye may be, but ye're na stronger 'n me."

"We'll see about that!" Harper lunged, quick as a striking snake, aiming high with his daggers. He darted in on Curse's left side as if he was aiming for the man's heart, but when Curse moved to dodge, he spun on his heel and ducked low, trying to hamstring him.

But Curse saw it coming and crouched so that Harper's knives were plunging at a bad angle toward the pirate's chest; Harper leaned back, trying to recover his swing, and Curse reached out faster than lightning, faster than Harper could even see.

The pirate's huge hands closed around Harper's wrists, dwarfing him; Curse stood, straightening easily from his crouch, and hauled Harper with him. Harper struggled, digging his heels into the ground to yank himself backward--but it was like pulling against a wall, against a boulder, against a mountain.

Like trying to uproot one of the Ancient Oaks. Pointless, impossible.

Curse was strong, inhumanly strong. Harper had fought Anks, said to be the strongest creatures in Glure, but even they did not compare to the strength lurking inside Curse. It was impossible.

No one could be that strong.

And yet, Harper was dangling two feet of the ground, held up by his wrists. The pressure just below the joints caused his hands to go numb and the daggers fell to the forest floor. Despite the odds, Harper wasn't finished.

He kicked at the pirate, swinging back only to shove his whole body at the man's chest, feet first. Curse didn't flinch, didn't move.

Not even when Harper collided with him. The man stood stock still. It was like crashing into a cliff, and Harper felt the impact in his bones, all the way through his body. If he'd swung any harder, he might've broken something.

Harper hung there, panting, glaring daggers at the pirate who held him captive so easily. "Well, you've got me! So do it! Kill me!" Harper spat, fury and humiliation warring in his words.

But Helene was there with a hand on Curse's arm, her brown eyes worried. "Please, Curse! He's my brother!"

Curse looked down at her, sighed. Then, he opened his hands, and Harper dropped to the ground. He laid flat on his back for a moment, with the breath knocked out of him. Curse crossed his arms, stared down at Harper with a serious, dark glint in his eyes.

"Wha's yer name, man?"

Harper scowled, refusing to answer. But Helene spoke up. "Harper. His name's Harper. He didn't mean any harm, really, he just--"

Casually, as if it was something he did all the time, Curse reached around Helene's head and put one of his huge hands over her mouth. "Shh." He said, not looking at her.

Helene's eyes were exasperated, but she didn't try to get away. If anything, she moved closer to him, since his action put one of his arms around her shoulder, in a way.

"Harper. Ye're na strong enough ta beat me, Harper." He said, softly, the words echoing in the air. "Bu' I'll make ye a deal."

Harper sat up, slowly, then climbed to his feet. A part of him wanted to tell Curse exactly where he could stick that deal--but another part was curious.

He said nothing, just continued to scowl.

Curse looked at him, completely serious. "Lend me a 'and, an' my life'll be yers."

Helene gasped from under his hand, and Harper could only stare. "...what?" He asked, because surely the pirate's garbled accent had gotten in the way and Harper had not heard him correctly.

But Curse nodded, once. "There be somethin' in this city tha' I want. 'elp me ge' it, an' when I be ready ta go, yers'll be t' 'and what does me in."

"When you're ready?" Harper scoffed, not liking the sound of that. Curse shrugged. "I've gotta ship 'n crew what depend on me. Canna jus' up an' leave 'em 'cause ye don'a like wha' I've done t' yer sister."

Harper scowled blackly, hating that the man's words were reasonable. He didn't want reason. He wanted blood.

"What exactly are you looking for here?"

Curse grinned, opened his mouth--but a muffled screeching sound interrupted him. Both men looked at Helene, nestled in the crook of Curse's arm with his huge hand still covering her mouth. Curse removed his hand, looking at her with faint amusement as she glared at the both of them.

"You cannot be serious! You are not going to kill each other over me!"

Harper scowled at her. "As your brother it's my job to--"

"I don't care who you are! This is ridiculous!" She stepped away from Curse, wagging a finger at both of them with an expression of incredulous anger on her face. "Men! You're all idiots! I'll have no part of this. None!" With that, she turned and stomped away, disappearing into the trees on the path back into the city.

Curse and Harper stared after her, Curse with an expression of amusement, Harper with one of exasperation and frustration.

Curse stepped up beside Harper, held out a hand as if to shake.

"Do we 'ave a deal, then?"

Harper looked at Curse, thinking it over. Then, he nodded, just once. "We have a deal." He shook the pirate's hand, sealing their agreement.

Curse grinned broadly, not seeming to care that he'd just signed his own death warrant, so to speak. "Right then. I be t' Curse, pirate captain o' the good ship Nephrite. Name's Kale Montez."

Harper blinked, then shook his head in bewilderment. Strange, to have the introductions after the fight, after the promise of a life-debt. "Harper Hayes. Thief."

"Good ta meetcha, Mister Hayes." With that, and still grinning, Curse released Harper's hand and strode off through the trees.