Fan Fiction ❯ The Climatic First Encounter ❯ The Climactic First Encounter ( Chapter 1 )

The Climactic First Encounter

 

The rain shot down from the sky like a thousand cold needles, stinging Ramian's skin. He tugged the hood of his cloak down lower over his face and swung off his horse, dropping to the muddy roadside with a splash. The bounty hunter crouched down to look at it more closely: rainwater pooled in the hollows of the track, small and slender and not terribly deep. In spite of the rain, it was still clearly identifiable and very familiar. Finally. That elf bastard was his.

 

The elf had killed someone, they said—not that Ramian cared; it was just his job to bring the elf back. Seven days tracking him on the trade road to Freeport, and three days of backtracking after he'd lost him. He might have given up if the bounty wasn't so substantial, but now he just hoped the elf would put up a fight when he finally caught him. Gods knew Ramian could sure use it.

 

The sneaky bastard had slipped out of Everwood after the murder and headed due east, keeping mostly to the roads. He'd lost the trail when the elf had detoured and followed the river, walking over the smooth wet stones for over a mile before he'd finally crossed to the other side of the bank. The elf must have known Ramian was following him or else he wouldn't have bothered with his little maneuver, and it had cost Ramian a lot of time. This track was fresh, though, and if it didn't rain too hard he'd be able to follow, though the bounty hunter scowled as he realized where he was heading: Freeport. Dammit. If the elf got through the gates he'd be able to lie low, probably down by Dockside where there were enough elves that he wouldn't stand out so much, and eventually catch a ship. If he did that, he'd be gone for good, and these ten days would have been for nothing. Ramian didn't have a lot of time.

 

Ramian tugged on the reins and led his horse forward, following the tracks one after the other. He would find the elf.

 

 

There was a first for everything. Sure he knew that eventually one day his late night hobbies would catch up to him and that would mean the long arm of the law would seek him out but this felt different. It felt personal almost and as far as Shade knew, he had not lifted anything recently that would have instigated a hunt such as this. He felt like a rabbit being chased by a hound and he did not like that feeling at all.

 

Tucking a lock of red hair behind his pointed ear, the elf looks about cautiously before stepping into street. Freeharbor … anyone could hide in this dirty sinful human city, Shade should know, he had done it many of times. The elf was a master thief but a choosy thief, taking only items that were of interest to him. Not even his family knew of his extracurricular activities. His father, the magistrate, would have wrung his neck if he knew but that was half the fun.

 

It was raining; no pouring and Shade hated the rain. His boots were soaked clean through and he knew that his pants were covered with mud. Pulling the cowl of his cloak tightly about him, the elf slips into an alley and makes his way down it. He needed to find a place to hide out; perhaps one of his contacts could help him. Glancing over his shoulder, Shade turns down a second alley way and makes his way towards the docks.

 

He felt it; the hunter was close, almost as if he was breathing down the back of his neck. Shade feels a thread of panic race through his heart and his legs respond by taking off in a sprint. Fool, now he stood out.

 

It's a movement out of the corner of his eye that catches his attention, a mouth and jaw in profile under a hooded cloak and a slender figure darting quickly through the streets, but ultimately, its instinct that tells him to follow. The figure ducks into one alley, then another, and Ramian follows, wondering if he just wants this so bad he was starting to imagine things. It had almost become personal for the bounty hunter, some affront to his professional pride. He would catch this damn elf, just because he can't accept letting this bastard win.

 

The figure turns to glance back, and he catches a glimpse of a crimson strand of hair curling from under the hooded cloak.

 

Adrenaline surges through him.

 

It was the elf, all right, his prey—it had to be; and as if to give him confirmation, the figure suddenly bursts into a sprint. Ramian splashes through the puddle-spotted alley right after him, gaze racing ahead to try to tell gauge the elf's path. He was a tricky bastard, Ramian knew; he'd try anything. As they emerge from the alley, the elf makes as if to run inside one of the seedy little taverns that peppered Dockside, but suddenly pivots and darts into another alley instead.

 

Glancing around with panic Shade stumbles through the street and lands on his knees. As he moves to his feet, his mind races with decisions. He needed to find a place to hide and he needed to find one now. Spotting the entrance to the Black Watermelon, the elf felt a small flicker of hope and began to race towards it. Colliding into a stranger on the street, Shade spins around and almost stumbles again. Fate was working against him tonight for as his feet were about to cross onto the boardwalk at the building's entrance, cruel cold claws sank into his shoulder.

 

The elf heads right for the tavern entrance but collides with a drunken sailor outside of it, giving Ramian just enough time to close the distance between them. Reaching out, he grasps the elf's shoulder and hauls him around, and while the elf is off-balance he shoves hard to send the elf stumbling into the muddy narrow alley outside the tavern.

 

Shoved off his feet, Shade falls knees and hands to the ground. Reacting with instinct, he sends his foot flying out, hoping to bring his attacker down to the ground with him. As his foot connects, Shade scrambles forward and clings to the outer wall of the tavern. Hauling himself up, he spins around, fists balled and ready for a fight.

The elf stumbles and goes down, but manages to lash out with his foot as he's falling, catching the back of his heel to Ramian's shin. Biting out a curse, Ramian pulls up short before he goes down as well. It's just enough time to let the elf scramble to his feet, but instead of running again, he turns to fight.

 

Ramian grins slowly as he straightens to his full height and looks down at the elf. Little bastard though he could fight him, did he? "You want to fight me? You just made my week."

 

Shade's eyes drink in his opponent and he is immediately surprised by the young human. Perhaps fighting wasn't the best course of action here. Well it's too late to change his mind now. Darting forward, Shade kicks out sharply with his booted foot and follows his with a sharp punch with his right. But the kid must have read him like an open book. One arm drops and steel like grip wrenches his ankle while the other arm blocks his punch with a meaty forearm. Shade was screwed. The kid had almost a foot on him in height and probably a hundred pounds as well. The elf's body wasn't conditioned for fighting like this. With a sultry snarl, Shade raises his chin and narrows his eyes before speaking.

 

“You may be stronger but I am smarter.”

 

He finds the defiance in the elf's eyes interesting; usually it was just fear. With a low chuckle, he just shakes his head. "That's what you think," he says, then rushes at the elf as if to crash into him like a dumb, maddened bull. As the elf gathers close to leap nimbly out of the way, Ramian stops abruptly, pivots around, then whips his leg out to sweep the elf's feet out from under him, just a little trick he picked up fighting on the docks.

 

Shade saw it too late and down he went. The kid was good, really good and he was just completely outclassed. Attempting to curl up into a ball as his back hit the mud; Shade feels the heavy body of the bounty hunter cover him, effectively pinning the elf's small frame to the ground. Struggling as much as he could muster, the elf only succeeds in covering himself from head to toe with the slick mud. Pissed as hell, Shade bites out angrily.

 

“You may have me now but you can't keep me.”

 

Quickly, efficiently, Ramian pulls the elf's arms behind him one after the other and pins them down with his knee. Grabbing a set of manacles from his belt, he secures them around the elf's slender wrists. He's done this dozens of times but none felt as sweet--he'd earned this one.

 

Ramian looks down at the elf in satisfaction for a few moments but then reaches out to grab a fistful of the elf's hair and hauls his head back.

 

He leans down and gives a low chuckle against the elf's tapered ear. "We'll see about that."

 

Any rational thought fled Shade's brain as the hunter grabbed a fistful of his hair and hauled his neck back to whisper dangerously in his ear. His body should be freezing but instead it felt like he was on fire. Gasping slightly, Shade fires back, “So is this where you make me beg for my life or do you plan on killing me outright?

 

Ramian lets out another low chuckle. "No. This is where I take you back to Everwood and collect the bounty on your head." He lets the elf go abruptly and hauls himself up, then reaches down to pull the muddy, sodden elf to his feet. His grip is iron around the elf's upper arm. "Don't fight, don't try to run, and it'll go a lot better for you," he says as he looks around at the nearby buildings, trying to determine where he should take the elf to get out of this dammed rain. Walking out into the street, he heads for the Black Watermelon inn, steering the elf along.

 

Maybe it was the fact he'd never hunted an elf before, or maybe it was just that this elf was feisty and he found that interesting, but he finds himself smirking as he pulls the elf into the tavern.

 

Once inside the entrance, both males get a look that can only be described as loathing. The proprietor, a sour faced woman at least forty summers old steps out to greet them.

 

“Hey now! Th'mud supposed ta stay outside ya bloody idiots.”

 

Spotting the manacles around the elf's wrists, her eyes widen in her fat face and she holds out a pudgy palm.

 

“I don't want trouble. Two silvers fer the room and an extra silver fer the bath.”

 

Ramian reaches into his pocket and pulls out a gold coin, flipping it to the woman.

 

“Y'can have the room in back. It's bigger and no stairs ta worry about. Oh and da baths, yer on yer own with him.”

 

Chuckling enough to send her belly rolling, the woman walks away.

 

With his face pressed against the rough wood of the wall, Shade remains quiet. However when he is practically tossed inside, the elf finds himself tripping over the end of the bed and landing back on his knees. Silently he waits for his abuser's footfalls to approach before springing up and ramming his shoulder into the other man's ribcage. Both go down hard on the floor but despite Shade's best efforts, he hits the floor first and his breath flies from his lungs. Unconscious, his body lays on the floor relaxed.

 

The elf trapped under his body, Ramian groans before he gets up. The elf was faster than Ramian expected and moved too quickly for him to get out of the way. As he staggers to his feet, trying to recover his breath, he notices the elf lying motionless on the floor.

 

"Shit."

Ramian kneels down again to check the elf's pulse. Still alive, but his skin felt clammy. He presses his hand to the elf's forehead, which is hot. Maybe a fever? For a few moments he thinks about just leaving the elf in the corner but decides he doesn't want to cart a sick prisoner all the way back to Everwood, or deal with a corpse. With another curse, he unlocks he manacles and pulls the elf up over his shoulder, carrying him to the baths.

 

First things first. Ramian sets the elf down and strips off his sodden cloak, clothing, and boots, tossing them in the corner. The elf's body is pale and supple and smooth, graceful in a way that human males weren't. After a few moments he has to tear his eyes away and drape an old but dry cloak over him while he goes to the bath, pumping steaming water into the tub. If the elf's body temperature didn't heat up, he was going to get sick, and Ramian just didn't want to deal with that.

 

When he is finished, he turns again to the elf, squatting down to peel his eyelids back. Still unconscious. Standing up to strip off his own wet clothing and gear, Ramian sets his weapons aside and then picks the elf up again. The feel of cold skin pressed against his chest is distracting, but he carries the elf to the bath and eases him in.

 

The first thought that the elf had was that he had died and went to Heaven. His body felt like it was floating but then, no, that wasn't completely right either. There was a band of steel wrapped around his waist, making sure he didn't float away. His body stiffened as his eyes opened and he stared into those of his attacker. Reacting with instinct, the elf pushes away from the other man and truly realizes his situation. He was no longer manacled but instead naked, in a tub, with the very man who was determined to turn him for a crime he was certain he had not committed.

 

His eyes, still wide with confusion, notice the broad flat chest and the chin length hair which shockingly is almost the same fiery color as his own. Reaching out with a slim hand, Shade runs his fingers hesitantly through the crimson strands. “You know if you wanted to fuck me you didn't have to capture me.” Crossing the arm's length distance between them, Shade places his free hand flat against his own chest. Allowing his fingers to drop the locks of hair, Shade spins around, giving his back to the other man. Arching his back and neck so he could stare upside down into the other man's face, the elf purrs softly.

 

“Master, my name is Shade.”