The Short Stories of Miss.SunFlower

“I can’t believe you.” Damian mumbled as the two men moved backstage again.
Liam shrugged, face slightly red and an ecstatic grin on his face, “What?”
He rolled his eyes, “You actually gave her your phone number…”
He laughed now, “Hey! No way I’m loosing contact with her. She’s like- I don’t even know the words to describe her. Perfect.”
“You’re love sick.” He sighed.
“And you aren’t?”
Blushing, he laughed awkwardly, “No I’m not. She’s just, I don’t know.”
“Sounds love sick to me.” Liam laughed.
“Shut up.”
Liam chuckled, “De-nial.”
“Okay, so she’s gorgeous, and she’s the only person who’s ever been interested in my writing.
“Excuse me?”
Damian laughed, “Okay, okay. The only GIRL who’s been interested. She wanted me to send it to her…” He trailed off.
“You should, man.”
“It’s not good, though,” He said, as though it was an obvious answer.
“She wouldn’t care.”
He blushed again, “Well, okay, but I don’t have her address or anything.”
“I can get it from Bri.” He replied practically.
“Without sounding like a stalker?”
“You said she asked you to send it to her, right? Asking would be legit enough.”
He made such creepy things sound so natural, Damian thought with a sigh. “I’ll think about it. Speaking of, do you ever plan on telling “Bri” that we stalked her on Myspace?”
To his surprise Liam shrugged again, “Maybe, depends how this all works out.”
“And what exactly is ‘all this’? What progress did I miss whilst talking to Lynn?”
Now he blushed, more of the response Damian was expecting, “….Point taken.”
He laughed, pleased with his teasing, “Just let her know it was all YOUR idea, alright?”
“Right, right. After I tell her you want Ash’s address. Or Lynn as you called her. Which does she go by?”
“Not sure. Brianna called her Ash, but I called her Lynn and she said it was fine. She said her parents weren’t sure to name her Ashley or Madelyn so they combined them.” He laughed, remembering the conversation.
His chuckle started up, “She really said all that? I hardly got the girl to say five syllables.”
Damian shrugged, “She seemed comfortable enough talking to me.” He tried not to think to much about that though.
“That’s cause she liiiiiiikes you.”
He laughed now, “Man, you sound like an elementary school girl. She’s just nice, and friendly. Nothing else.”
“Yet.” Liam said simply.
“Well, what did you two talk about?” He said pointedly changing the subject. “You kind of kept me from talking to her.”
“She wanted to give you and Ash alone time.”
His eyebrows rose, “Did she?”
Liam laughed and nodded, “I’m not the only annoying matchmaker here. Anyways,” he rushed passed that, “We talked about things we liked. She loves Celtic history.”
“Like you.”
“Aye, exactly.” He said, his smile growing ecstatic again, “She knew more than me almost. And they are going to move there.”
Damian couldn’t help but gape, “What – like, like to IRELAND?”
He nodded cheerfully, “And not just anywhere in Ireland…” He trailed off suggestively.
“No.”
“Yep.”
“Seriously!?”
“Yep,” He paused though, “But she just said the county. Not sure where. So don’t get your hopes up yet.”
He nodded, “I can’t believe that though, they’re really moving to Derry? That’s almost scary.”
“Hey, it’s awesome though, you’ve found a fan, like I wanted, and she won’t be way off in the states, like you wanted. Perfect, is it not?”
Damian rolled his eyes, “Aside from the fact that I’m NOT in love with her, yes, it’s perfect.”
Liam laughed, “Whatever you say, mate, whatever you say.”
 
aye aye... this story got me in the most MASSIVE of writers blocks it's kinda scary... so I kind dropped it and began writing a few other short stories... XD

Should I post those and come back to this one someday?
 
Miss.SunFlower said:
aye aye... this story got me in the most MASSIVE of writers blocks it's kinda scary... so I kind dropped it and began writing a few other short stories... XD

Should I post those and come back to this one someday?
Click to expand...

I suppose we might allow you to do that as long as you finish it some day soon :D ;) :p
 
okay. since I has approval;

Another story about the wonderful song. Midnight Well. This one is REALLY different. I don't exactly know how to explain it, but it was a thought that had been playing in my head off and on for a while. I don't know when this took place, I kept switching between it being a long time ago, and being present times. So whichever floats your boat.
Enjoy.


Retelling Midnight Well

Christina, or Chris, Muir had hoped to avoid boredom when she moved to Ireland. But it appeared dull life followed her even to the most magical of places. She guessed she shouldn’t have expected differently, any place she went she’d have to have some crappy job before she could work her way up to the fun ones. She just wasn’t sure she had the patience for that. She liked having more openness.
Ireland had openness, a vast lot of it. Beautiful free areas with so much history and story behind it. She wanted to know more about it, but working at a small pub in an even smaller village wasn’t getting her anywhere.
But she shouldn’t be complaining, truly. This WAS only her second day since moving in and boarding with the old couple that owned the pub. Sweethearts both of them were, but really quiet most of the time. So far in the course of her last two days every person there had asked her where she’d come from, embarrassing as she didn’t like the fact that she was the one with the accent, making her feel more like a tourist. She didn’t like tourists.
Her second day was going by rather uneventfully and during a slow time in the late afternoon, with the sun just starting to set she was asked to run a couple errands for the place. Before she could head on her way, however, her kindly caretaker quickly cut-in, “Don’t go by the old well either. There’s a longer way around it. And safer, might I add.”
“Safer?” She asked, as her curiosity prickled up. Maybe this place wasn’t as void of interest as she originally thought. But, alas, no explanation came and she went on her way.
Unable to control her own curiosity, she took as many long winding routes back from her errands as possible. But with every alley and quieter street no mythic well was found. She began to wonder if he just wanted to frighten her. She was new, didn’t know any better. Why not?
But before she was totally settled with her conclusion she noticed off in a field where the town reached its end, a small object, most obviously a well though. Still feeling interested she took her stuff and moved to the field, hoping she wasn’t going to get in trouble for this. What could be wrong with a well? Was it haunted? Maybe it was the sight of a murder? Was it a wishing well that had long ago been used to wish for something terrible? So many questions and stories played in her mind.
She wanted to check it out further but with her curiosity came a bit of fear. More than a bit as she remembered the warning not to go by it for her safety. Obviously SOMETHING had happened. Something he didn’t want to see repeated. Did she really want to know what it was?
“Geez Chris,” She murmured aloud, “You are getting all worked up over nothing. You wanted to find something interesting and here you are getting scared away… it’s a well, a simple well.”
This was getting her nowhere, she decided at last, might as well head back now before her arguing mind gave her a headache. So a little miffed at her self she made her way back to the quiet pub. Set to spend the rest of her afternoon in her own unhappiness as the pub stayed mostly empty most of the time.
It was for that reason she was more than a little surprised to note she and the owner were NOT the only two at the bar. Blushing, wondering how long someone had been waiting, and embarrassed at her immature wandering, she moved behind the bar to tend to the new guest.

Sitting at the bar was a young man. His hair was a smooth jet-black, and natural too. Not one of those people who died their hair to look cooler of something. His eyes were pale yet flashing blue that, while they looked as though they could be anywhere from downright icy to incredibly persuasive if the situation called for it, were rather warm as he smiled up at her. She blushed.
“Well, hello.” He said conversationally, “You’re new I take it?”
She hadn’t even opened her mouth and he’d known she wasn’t from the area. She hid a sigh. “That I am. Just moved here two days ago.” Chris said with a slightly strained politeness.
He chuckled, a pleasant sound that matched his smile, “Don’t worry about it. First time here today, myself.”
She blinked, confused. Though, the more he spoke the more she traced a small lilt of his voice different from the other accents she’d heard. From a different area of Ireland maybe, still…
“If you’ve never been here before, how do you know I’m new?” Chris asked, curiosity filling her again.
The young man simply shrugged it off, “You simply have the look of someone not altogether used to her surroundings.”
“Lost and confused like someone who has no clue what she’s doing.” She mumbled, embarrassed even more now that complete strangers knew she wasn’t a local.
“I was thinking more curious but bored.” Was his reply however, she met his eyes and he winked, she looked away quickly, blushing.
He was spot-on but Chris wasn’t going to admit that, “How is it you can tell such things?” And on an off note added, “And should I get you a drink or are we just going to stand here chatting?”
“If it’ll keep you talking to me, sure I’ll have a drink.” He said; his voice laced with stifled laughter. As she moved to get it for him he added, “And to your first question, your eyes.”
“What?” She asked, bringing it back to him. He met her eyes again, and this time she couldn’t think to look away from them.
“You asked how I could tell these things about you, and I said your eyes. They have that spark of curiosity but I can tell you haven’t found much worth it yet, like someone who wants something exciting and hasn’t found it. It’s quite attractive.” He added as if an afterthought.
Now she looked away, her face hot. She’d never had a guy look at her twice much less had anyone flirt with her, and certainly not anyone as attractive as the young man before her. She looked back at him, though not meeting his eyes.
“Well…” She paused, hoping to drop the hint of waiting for a name.
He took it, “Ryan.” He supplied.
She smiled her first real smile back at him, “I’m Chris.” She told him before continuing, “And I did find something interesting, or,” as she suddenly was aware of her boss and caretaker’s presence in the room as well, “or I heard of something interesting.”
“Oh?” Ryan said, interested, “and that was…?”
“An old well, somewhere on the outskirts of town. I was directed earlier not to go by it.”
“And you aren’t.” Came her caretakers voice from the other end of the pub.
“Well, why not?” Chris asked, a little annoyed “Could you explain what is up with it?”
He sighed, “I could, if you truly want to hear it. At least it will keep you away from it.”
He opened his mouth to begin some sort of tale but Ryan cut in, his voice tight, “I don’t think it’d be well to frighten her with ghost stories.”
“I wouldn’t be frightened!” Chris said indignantly.
At the same time the pub owner snapped, “It’s no story! It happened!”
“I have no doubt something happened. But who’s to say you have the tale right?”
“And you have it better than I do?” He asked, “You, who say this is your first time here?”
“And it is,” Ryan said mildly, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t know things about this area.”
Chris watched the discussion with confusion and indignation. Whatever happened, she was no child and she should be able to hear it. She could handle whatever had happened at that well.
As it grew to the point where neither man had acknowledged her, she coughed, “Sorry I asked.” She muttered.
Both grew quiet and her caretaker seemed to drop it, moving back so that she and Ryan were the only two there.
Then Ryan softly said, “Do you really want the story?” In that persuasive voice she’d known he’d have from the beginning. It certainly didn’t make her immune to it, though.
“Yes, I do.” She tried to keep her voice firm, and failed “I think I ought to know.”
“Well if you want to hear him tell you, then that’s fine…”
“And if I want to hear you tell me?” She asked before she could think right.
He laughed, as though this was the way he’d planned it from the start, “Do you get a break anytime soon?”
She blushed, “I don’t know, I’m not even sure if I have hours.”
“I can hold it up for the night, Christina.” Her boss popped in, in a kind but slightly apprehensive voice, like a father worried about his daughter dating the wrong kid. The endearment actually made her happier than annoyed.
“Thank you.” She said simply, turning back to Ryan, who was standing up to go. She had thought he’d just tell the tale here, but apparently they would be walking together as well. She was far from upset at this development, though, and followed him out.
 
“You know, I wouldn’t have been frightened.” Chris said softly as they walked the less than bustling streets of the small town. What few people were out earlier had settled in for dinner and the sun was just starting to set,
“You would have the way he’d have told it.” He said, still chuckling.
“And how would that be?” She asked.
“Would you like to hear his version or mine?”
“Can I not get both?”
His answer was more laughter, and he gently took her hand to pull her down a different path.
There was a silence before he began, “In this town, the people stay away from the ‘midnight well’.”
Was this his story or the other? She wanted to ask but didn’t want him to be distracted. However, when he didn’t continue she asked, “Why?”
More laughter, a little more… wicked, but in a strangely attractive kind of way, “It’s ‘dark and evil’, or so they say.”
Evil? She thought back to the old well she saw in the field. It certainly didn’t look it.
“You’d be told of lovely young lady from this town, the most beautiful anyone had ever seen.” He continued, his voice quiet and almost singsong, “Blue eyes like the sky in the summer and long golden hair… How beautiful she was, but she went on her own.”
“Her own?” She said, trying not to dwell on the topic of this young lady’s beauty.
He glanced at her, his gaze admiring, “She had that same curiosity coming here, like you. It made her very interesting to a young man who visited the town.”
Just like he’d visited today, she thought, but said nothing. She was too interested in the story at this point.
More mild laughter, as though he knew what she was thinking, but he said nothing about it. She noticed they were walking further out to the ends of the town, more towards that well. Fitting scenery, she thought, fitting also with the fading dusk.
“No one knew where he came from, but anyone could tell you about a certain fire in his eyes,” Ryan continued, putting a fair amount of emphasis on fire, making her shiver, “That very night the two were seen heading out in the direction of the small well on the edge of town, this very well, to have their own rendezvous.” He added, as they had reached it.
Chris thought of that with another shiver, two people late at night coming to this very place in secret. How thrilling and romantic that was. And how very much like what she was doing with the young man she’d only just met, she thought, looking at him. She had no idea what to think of that, but she couldn’t think to find it upsetting in any way.
Nothing else was said for a moment so finally Christina said, “Go on…”
“That was the last night anyone in this town ever saw her face.” Ryan said, unceremoniously ending that story.
“… Ever?”
“Ever. She was gone.”
She stared at the small well again, her interest and excitement quickly turning to fear, “W-what happened to her?”
He looked at her again, as if debating how to answer that, “No one here really knows…” He said at last.
“Did he- kill her?” She asked quietly.
To her surprise he laughed, “What makes you think that?” He asked her.
Chris didn’t know what to think of his more wicked sounding laughter now, as she was already finding it slightly frightening how that story compared to what they were doing now. But Ryan didn’t LOOK evil. He didn’t look like someone who would- would kill her.
“I-I don’t know… but that’s what happened, isn’t it?” She thought of the pub owner telling her not to come by this well. If it had been where that young woman had been kidnapped or killed, his worry made sense. Not that it had done much in the end, she thought, looking into Ryan’s eyes and feeling a million things at once, and defiantly unable to leave.

“You’re shaking.” He said softly, rubbing her arms gently to warm them up. However, that only made her shake more at his touch. He sighed, shaking his head softly, his lips still set in that smirk though, “I told you his story would scare you…”
“That was his?” She asked, a faint hope rising, “That one wasn’t the true one, right? You said-”
She got cut off by noticing his shoulders shaking in silent laughter, “You think I’m an idiot for even possibly believing it, don’t you?”
He put his arms further around her to pull her closer to him. Her heartbeat was in hysteria as she looked into his eyes, less than a foot from her. For a moment, the midnight well story was the last thing in her mind.
“Far from, dear Chris. And you aren’t wrong for believing either story, because both are true, in their own right.” He said, his voice more of a murmur.
Christina blinked, not sure what that meant.
He explained, “Well, if you knew only what the people in this town knew, only what I told you - when someone is never seen again the first idea in anyone’s head is death. So don’t feel bad that it was yours.”
“But that isn’t what happened? He wasn’t evil?” She felt idiotic for that last question and quickly added, “And how do you know what did happen?”
“Evil?” He laughed aloud now, “Sweet, sweet Chris…” He shook his head, “yes, he was very evil for simply falling for a girl and asking for her to come with him.”
She was a bit annoyed with his sarcasm, but too interested in that information to truly get mad at him.
“Come where with him?” She asked stupidly.
“His home… though that wasn’t much, he was a gypsy, a traveler, never stayed in the same place for long.”
“And she came with him?”
“Of course.” He chuckled, she opened her mouth to ask why, and he continued quickly, “Say, for instance, I asked you right now,” Pulling her even closer to him, “to come away, come and ride with me into the night… would you, would you be able to say no?”
He wasn’t playing fair there, she thought, and there was no way she was going to answer that aloud. But her blood red face, even in the lack of light, and her pointed silence was answer enough. His smirk grew.
“So she wanted to go?” She asked stiffly, not dwelling on her own opinion of the matter. “And was happy?”
His smirk turned sweeter, “She’s plenty happy now.”
It took Chris a second before that was fully registered in her mind, “WHAT?”
“She’s plenty happy now.” He repeated smoothly.
“You KNOW her!? You know THEM!?” That explained how easily he was able to repeat the tale, although he’d never been here before. And how he knew more about how it REALLY ended… but… “Who-?” She began.
“You can rest assured my grandparent’s are safe and happy.”

She blinked, “You’re lying.” She said coolly, though she wasn’t too sure of that.
He laughed now, “I’m not lying. They were my dad’s parents. I even look like both of them, back then.” He chuckled, “His hair, her eyes.”
She stared into those eyes again, remembering his earlier description, ‘eyes like the sky in summer’. He certainly did, but did that mean she was to believe…
“So…” She found it hard to get the words out, “Your- your grandmother-“
“Would laugh her head off if she heard the stories this town has made out of her long ago disappearance.” He finished, “I’d heard the story so many times from her, I figured I had to come here someday.”
She couldn’t help but break into a small smile at his words, all which sounded so true she felt her apprehension fading.
“And you?”
More laughter, bringing her even closer to him, which she hadn’t thought was possible “I’m no gypsy, obviously. But I think I take after my grandfather, in some ways. It was that curiosity, that free spirit, that caused him to fall for her… and it’s exactly what’s causing me to fall for you.”
Christina was speechless, everything he’d just said was still spinning in her head she wasn’t entirely sure of what it was he was saying. He had fell for her? Like in love? This handsome, somewhat mysterious, charming, young man loved HER!? Absolutely speechless.
He didn’t laugh for once at her blushing shock, and added, “So, lovely Chris, in all honesty, would you like to come away with me?”
She had to let out a small laugh his phrasing, and knowing she could not say no she simply asked, “Where?”
He seemed ecstatic that she hadn’t said no. Did he not know the affect he’d had on her? “Anywhere you’d like. You want out of this town, I know, and I’ve seen plenty of others and am willing to go anywhere with you…”
She thought of it, and finally grinned, “Your grandmother is still alive, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’d like to meet her. Maybe hear this story of the ‘midnight well’ from her.”
He laughed, “She’d be happy to tell it.” He finally pulled away from her, still holding her hand, “Shall we, then?”
She nodded, softly laughing to herself as it occurred to her there would now be two “disappearances” at this well. She smiled at Ryan, if this well was ‘evil’ she didn’t care, its existence had made her happier than anything in the world.


I don't know if I'm happy with the very end... it took me a while to get down, though, and I figured you'd all want this story soon. So hope you liked it. It was, as everything, great craic to write.
 
That... was... amazingly cute! I kind of wish she had told the nice old guy where she was going but we'll pretend she called to tell him later :p ;)

you're so good at describing really sweet guys :D
 
... he's fun to write about... and the.... easiest, you could say. Idk why... that and his songs have a story line that you can shift a bit for a full story...

that said; want the beginning of your next story? I've been busy and have another ready. This is longer so you'll get the good ol' updates again.
 
Miss.SunFlower said:
... he's fun to write about... and the.... easiest, you could say. Idk why... that and his songs have a story line that you can shift a bit for a full story...

that said; want the beginning of your next story? I've been busy and have another ready. This is longer so you'll get the good ol' updates again.
Click to expand...

Yes, have you ever heard the Gaelic Storm song Scalliwag? It's like Raggle Taggle gypsy which made me think of your first Midnight Well story ;)

Of course! Maggie writings are always welcome :D
 
This beauty is based off of the loverly loverly show that is STORM. The first half of it. Which was, well, it had a story line... kind of. So more than one song is referenced in this. Which is great fun! Enjoy it!!!

Outside looking in…

Caroline had been taught to watch her prey carefully, and watch it she did. Crouched nearly on all fours she was hidden perfectly in the leaves of the dense forest around her, staring intently at the well traveled pathway inches ahead of her. And more importantly the carriage stopped along it.
This route was the most popular for traders and merchants, this was a well-known fact by everyone of any status. It bridged a port village – hardly large enough to be called even that, but where most of the good were brought for import and export – and the Royal castle and surrounding village. A major route of trade and prosperous goods passed through. The perfect place to have a raid.
It was brilliant. The carriages – rich with every type of value possible, not only traveled the route… but stopped along it as well. Routine stops to check their cargo along the road. The haughty drivers may have felt it was smart, but it would prove to be the very opposite only minutes from now. Caroline’s feet itched too pounce then and there. But there was in fact, a signal to wait for, so she dutifully watched.
Leaves near silently crunched beside her, but the stealth was what she was brought up on so nothing shocked her. She shifted her position slightly to glance at the new arrival.
Midnight black, naturally messed up hair and alert icy blue eyes were what she was met with. Ryan, in a loose white shirt and black vest, as always. Still the most well kept of anyone in the band of gypsies. But, Caroline supposed, being more or less their leader, he had to be.
Caroline had little memories of her childhood, though, as it had been told to her a family that had had more than enough money to care for another child had abandoned her. The hatred of the rich had stemmed from that, and she found gypsy life was her perfect revenge. She’d been dropped on the outside of their society, and she was going to take back as much as she could.
Ryan, being a few years older than her, and already almost commanding figure even when she’d only so luckily stumbled into the camp of theirs, had been kind of like a brother and mentor to her. The band they traveled in was easily like a pack of wolves, fierce loyalty to one another within their outside group.
Now he crouched beside her, giving her his wicked grin that always came just before a raid. He truly enjoyed his work; that was for sure. She waited his signal.
The carriage did something different though. The doors were opened and instead of a valued good, a person stepped out as though to stretch. Waves of gold flowed down her back and she was in a stunning blue and white gown… the royal colors. It took no genius to guess who the woman was.
“The princess?” Caroline whispered. What on earth was she doing on such a route? Visiting the port? How unusual. How much more dangerous this feat would be, she thought… but how much more rewarding as a kidnapped royal’s ransom was surly great. She glanced again at her companion, to see what he thought of such a development.
Ryan’s grin had grown and his eyes sparked with a great deal of interest as he looked over the princess. Caroline couldn’t be sure if the impatient hunger in his eyes came from the near fist sized pendant around the princesses neck, or the feminine figure beneath it, that that dress really did nothing to hide.
Annoyed, she snapped in her brother’s face to bring him back to the raid and reality. He gave her a cool look, and she could tell he was back. The look was scolding her for the snap. Too loud and noticeable. A dangerous move.
“Keep your focus.” She hissed at him, and he rolled his eyes. Denying that focus was lost to begin with.
“Right, right.” A swift glance back at the open carriage, then back at behind the two of them, to the half a dozen men thought needed for this heist, then back at her, “Ready?”
“Aren’t I always?”
“This’ll be harder.”
“I can handle it.”
A nod, and the wickedly excited grin came back, “Right… 1, 2-“
And then a gunshot sounded.
With an un-Ryan like gasp he pushed Caroline back slightly, his eyes wildly searching for where is had come from.
"Stay down." He whispered, as if she didn't know.
She stayed down but not back, inching herself closer to search for the wielder as well. None of the men, now surrounding the princess, were brandishing a pistol... So they weren't the one firing at them... but then... who?
The next sound, equally as loud as the shot, was a voice that came from a tree directly above their heads; "Stand and Deliver!!"

Caroline looked up a second too late as in a blur the figure who had yelled had descended from the tree, and now stood inches from her, but facing the carriage. He looked tall, but anyone looked tall from her position, and fair. From under a black hat shoulder length blonde hair was tied back with a matching black ribbon. She couldn’t yet see his face.
“You- what do you think you’re doing!?” A guard’s voice demanded, pulling out a sword.
The young man let out a chuckle, gentle and amused, not quite fitting with the bandit atmosphere around him, especially as he met the threat of a sword with a wave of the pistol in his hand. The guard subsided, “Exactly what it looks like I’m doin’. Now don’t make this any harder on yerself.” Without waiting for a reply he moved to the open door of the carriage.
“Now, hold on!” Another guard moved to grab him. He twisted to face him, and Caroline glimpsed what little of his face she could see. A black mask covered his eyes but a smile showed. Another thing that didn’t fit with him, as he held the gun to the man with confidence; he wouldn’t be afraid to use it if it came to that.
“Don’t make this harder.” He repeated, a bit more serious. The man’s hand left him and he returned to the cart, pulling out some goods or another, not very cleverly disguised as feed sacks. As he did Caroline watched him in a mix of wonder and fury. Who WAS this man – to be stealing their rightful raid!? So many riches that carriage HAD to have been carrying and they got nothing of it. Who WAS he?
Beside her, Ryan seemed equally furious, if not even more so than Caroline. She figured that came with leadership as well; a sense of competition.
It helped nothing as the guards who had all stepped away, unable to do anything, and were no longer keeping the beautiful princess hidden. The blonde man turned to her in surprise and intrigue, and Ryan hissed in anger.
The princess, herself, seemed too surprised to do anything at all. No words came from her, but she didn’t swoon either. Standing straight and shocked staring back at the man before her.
The man’s smile stayed kept it’s distantly polite quality, “Well, ‘afternoon, your highness. You’re looking stunning as I’ve heard.” As he spoke he’d moved to her, and took her hand. He briefly put it to his lips and with his other hand pulled a bejeweled ring, two, three, off it. Pocketing them, she could see his eyes daring any of the guardsmen to make any move. None did.
He continued, grinning back at her, “A beauty like yerself is only weighed down by such things. Trust me.” Even behind his mask, Caroline could see the wink. The princess even blushed, clutching the recently kissed hand against her.
Apparently content with what he had the men took a few steps away, as if to tell the other men he was complete, “Gentlemen, your highness, I thank you.” He now laughed, and Caroline realized she had been wrong about the innocent quality of it. It nearly mimicked that of Ryan’s after the same sort of feat.
Without another word his attention turned back to the forest of which he’d descended from. Searching for an appropriately dramatic exit, she was sure, his eyes met hers. Her whole body tensed, no one had ever been able to spot her, or any other gypsy for that matter. She for once knew nothing of what to do.
Another wink was the only show he’d noticed her, not helping her tense shock at all. With no more eye contact with her or the recently raided carriage, he took hold of a low branch and effortlessly pulled himself up and out of sight.
She stayed there, completely dumbfounded by all of that. Part of her wanted to stay and see whatever it was this mysterious man would do next but before she could Ryan tugged her away from the road and back to where they had camped. She followed helplessly, knowing it was useless to argue with him in this mood.
“How dare he!?” He exploded once safe in their own territory, “Some stuffed shirt noble looking for a bit of adventure, no doubt! And does he take just any raid from us – no! The most rich carriage this far from the royal city. Carrying the princess at that! Imagine!” He kicked a barrel in exasperation.
Caroline sat, like many of the other gypsies who had gathered, and listened to the rant – clearly saying what everyone thought about the failed raid. Finally she sighed and spoke up, “And so what are we going to do?” There was no way Ryan would not at least get some consolation prize out of this.
A grin lit up his face now, as he knew she knew him too well, “Tonight we raid the port village!” He declared, to a cheer from the gathered crew, “They will not get off completely unscathed!!”
 
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