Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ To Catch a Thief ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

To Catch a Thief

By Llewlyn

Summary: Schuldich is a master thief in the city of Schwarz, the Capitol of the great nation, Estet. Brad Crawford is a minor, but very wealthy, nobleman whose wife died three years prior. Schuldich, Aya, Yohji, Ken, and Omi are members of a crime ring run by a mysterious man named Persia. Schuldich gets an assignment to burgle a nobleman's house...

Rating: R, I guess, for upcoming lemons and limes and crude language inappropriate for kiddies.

A/N: Damn my muses... *attacks Yohji and Schu with a broom stick in one hand and a golf club in the other* My ideas always come at two in the morning. Also, the street rats have atrocious grammar, which annoys me to write, but I gotta cause they... *points at innocently grinning muses of lust and love* are making me!

The next morning, Farf came in to get Schuldich for fittings some time after Crawford had already risen and begun seeing to the household affairs. He toed the sleeping boy in the ribs, which made him roll over and mumble incoherently, something that sounded an awful lot like, "Go away, Yotan, ain't got time for another one!" Farfarello laughed and nudged Schuldich again; the second time, Schuldich growled and hit at the irritating boot with one hand, trying to get more sleep. "Boy, get up before I have to dump water on you!" Schuldich groaned and sat up groggily. He blinked, momentarily confused, then frowned. "Agh, you ain't KenKen o' Yotan... I still here, eh? Dammit..." He held up his chained wrist with a cheerful rattle that belied Schuldich's mood. "Unlock me, then, gotta piss."

"Chamber pot's under the bed. If you aren't house trained, you can go down to the kennel and piss with the hounds. Master's orders." Schuldich muttered under his breath as Farfarello removed the lock on Schuldich's wrist, leaving, though, the metal band for efficiency's sake. It would allow Schuldich to be chained anywhere until Crawford had more decorative ones made that befitted the house Crawford and were fitted to Schuldich personally. Schuldich pulled the chamber pot out from where it was, tucked under the corner out of the way. It hadn't been knocked over in the activities of the night prior. Once Schuldich had finished, he rose and glared at Farfarello.

It surprised him that the whip-thin bodyguard had been able to carry him so easily like he had, especially when he was kicking and biting. Schuldich was a good two inches taller and Farfarello seemed to have no muscles at all. "Lead on, ugly," he said dryly. Farfarello snickered- he'd been called worse- and led Schuldich to Crawford's study, where a small, jittery man with thinning grey hair waited. The room was piled with bolts of fabric and spools of thread in every imaginable shade and texture. Schuldich forced himself to stay aloof and not finger the soft velvets and rich damasks, smooth silks and soft satins, none of which he'd ever imagined himself wearing. There were more normal fabrics among the sumptuous stuff, wools and cottons for everyday wear.

"Good, you made it without too much struggle. Schuldich, stand on that stool there..." Crawford said from where he sat in behind a large mahogany desk. "Behave. I don't want a repeat of last night with Guild Master Muuto here." Schuldich bared his teeth in a snarl before stepping up on the indicated stool. "Good boy. Guild-master, I want two sets of everyday clothes, two dress, and a court outfit." The fawning tailor bowed. "Oh, and also, a training uniform, padded, of course."

"Sir, may I suggest this for one of the nice outfits?" he simpered, holding up a bolt of forest green velvet for Crawford's inspection. "As a overcoat, with a white muslin shirt?" The golden-eyed man flicked his gaze between Schuldich, who was studying the fabrics and trying to look nonchalant, and the verdant cloth in the tailor's hands. "Hold it up to him, I want to see how it looks." Schuldich stared coldly at the tailor, but Crawford nodded approvingly. "Make it simple, he's a slave, not a nobleman, but worthy of being seen in public. Black buttons, long sleeves. And pockets inside." The tailor bowed and set the bolt aside, jotting a few notes on a slip of paper.

The guild master added a roll of fine muslin to the velvet, and a matching shade of thicker cloth with it for pants. He began overlooking the fabrics around the room, searching for another color to present. It was obvious that with Schuldich's hair, it would be nearly impossible to match any shade of red. Green seemed to be his best color, or white. He found another fabric, lush silk died a deep blue that wouldn't clash with the slave's vibrant hair and showed it to Crawford.

Crawford took the cloth from Muuto and examined it, holding it up so the light shone over it. "I like this, but I have a better use for it." Muuto nodded and set the silk aside, a slight leer on his aging features. "Yes, my lord Crawford." He went on the hunt again. Crawford, on the other hand, pulled out a sheaf of paper and, glancing at Schuldich every few seconds, began to sketch. Schuldich didn't notice at all.

After trial and error of a few more fabrics, the raven-haired lord had chosen the green velvet and a lighter blue satin for what would be `visiting' clothes for when he was fully trained and ready to be taken places, pure white damask for court attire, and of course, the blue satin. Schuldich was allowed to choose among the less expensive textiles for every day clothes, and he chose green and black for simple tunics and shirts. The guild master bowed and carried the chosen materials out of the room, his assistants were summoned from where they lounged in the kitchen and they carried the rest out. Muuto returned for a short amount of time, measuring Schuldich for his new garb.

Finally, Schuldich was allowed to step off the stool and move about. "Oh, Schuldich- go to the kitchen, Manx has breakfast for you..." Crawford said off-handedly, busy discussing payment with the tailor. "I presume you remember the way." Schuldich nodded curtly and left the room, barely catching out of the corner of his eye Crawford passing a sheet of paper with drawings on it to Guild Master Muuto.

***

The next few days passed quickly, and soon turned into weeks, which added up and became months. Schuldich was trained in every nuance of behavior, in his speech, posture, manners, even his walk. His clothing was delivered from the tailor a week after his first morning. He was made to try them on, modeling for Crawford. He was especially pleased, though he'd never say it, with the green velvet jacket that had been produced. He was also given plain attire for sleeping and quilted things for fighting lessons.

Crawford made sure to teach Schuldich the proper way of fighting, taking his already good street-fighting skills and transforming them into expert martial arts movements. He was also taught politics, espionage, and secret assassination methods. He soon learned that Crawford, aside from being a baronet, was also King Takatori's spymaster, and that all the servants and employees of the House Crawford were his eyes and ears in places he could never go.

He was given, or rather, marked with, iron shackles plated with gold and worked in twining patterns that for all their delicate appearance were quite strong and impossible to break. Fine chains that matched came with them, and anklets, as well.

Crawford spoiled Schuldich rotten, giving him books, sweets, jewelry (Schuldich's ears had both been pierced, as well as his navel), and even a puppy of his own to raise, all to keep him from thinking too much about the friends he'd left behind in the lower city, where the poorer citizens resided. It worked sometimes, but at night, while Crawford slumbered peacefully on the soft bed, Schuldich, who was no longer chained to his master's bed at night, would rise from his pallet on the floor and sit on the window sill, throwing open the glass-paned window and climbing out to sit on the tree in good weather. He often thought of Yohji, Aya, Ken, and Omi, and of running away and returning to them, but he knew that if he did, he'd be caught and dragged back to Crawford, as well as leading the city watch straight to his friends.

The baronet was fully aware of Schuldich's late night activities, often waking when the window was opened. He came to enjoy watching the play of emotions across the teenager's face as he sat, bathed in the moonlight. He was a pretty boy that only grew more beautiful with each passing day, and he sometimes felt sorry for him, deep down in the heart that he'd buried first with the death of Nagi's mother, his first love, and then even deeper with the death of his wife three years prior. But only sometimes.

***

One year, almost to the day, after Crawford had caught Schuldich in his bedroom trying to rob a safebox that wasn't there, he decided the now-twenty-year-old was ready to leave the house he'd been sequestered in for so long. Schuldich had been a complete prisoner, allowed out only into the fenced-in gardens in front of and behind the ivy-covered house. Crawford new what he was doing, building the anticipation around Schuldich's metaphorical unveiling, keeping him a mystery. If visitors came for Crawford, the slave was kept hidden away in the kitchen or Nagi's room.

"Schuldich, are you ready yet?" Nagi demanded, coming into Crawford's room that afternoon to get the redhead. They were going to be late to court if the lazy man didn't get moving! He was surprised to see Crawford brushing Schuldich's hair for him; he'd been expecting Schuldich to be asleep on Crawford's bed, rumpling his clothes. "Oh, forgive me, Master Crawford... I thought..."

"That Schuldich was wasting time?" Crawford said indulgently. He was in a good mood. His prodigy was ready to be shown to the public, and he was sure that it would be a success. Schuldich had been a challenge to train, having not grown out of his frequent, violent, and lasting temper tantrums for six months, only settling down when given a new book or another lesson. He'd been trying to refrain from beating the boy, attempting to train him with rewards and affection rather than the rod and the fist. "I assure you, he wasn't." He put the brush down and bade Schuldich rise, pulling a box out of his pocket. "New earrings for you, Schu," he said, opening them and revealing sapphire drops in gold settings. Schuldich removed the ones he'd been planning on wearing, plain gold balls, and Crawford replaced them with the sapphires.

Finally satisfied with Schuldich's appearance in his white court outfit, Crawford led the three to the carriage, and they went to court. The trip up the hill to the sprawling, white marble palace that gleamed in the sunlight was uneventful, Crawford making Schuldich review the royal family and highest nobles, and his manners.

Upon entering the palace, there was a soft undercurrent of conversation at the much-anticipated new slave. His startling appearance was fodder for many jealous murmurs, the nobles commenting about how they would love to buy the redhead from Crawford. Schuldich forced himself to look demurely down at the back of Crawford's feet as he walked and not around at the admiring crowd. Crawford, on the other hand, was smiling at the nobles, nodding politely to most. They arrived before the throne, and Crawford bowed deferentially.

"Your Majesty," he murmured, smiling secretively.

"Baronet Crawford," the sideburned man said. King Takatori's elder son, Hirofumi, stood behind the throne and nodded at the bespectacled spymaster. "Please, rise, and inform the court where you acquired your new slave." He fondled his slender scepter that was adorned with an oblong lump at the top contemplatively. "We are dying to know."

"Your Majesty, I found this boy attempting to rob me last year, and took him as a slave, as was my right. I've been training him for the past year, and he is now as educated as any palace scholar."

Takatori looked bored, but Hirofumi looked interested. "Father, may I speak with the slave?" he whispered, and was given permission. "Boy, what is your name? Where are you from?"

Schuldich looked at Crawford from under his lashes. He'd knelt beside Crawford when his master had bowed, and was now wondering if he was allowed to speak. The first rule that he had been taught was never to speak unless Crawford said it was alright. Crawford nodded and he answered, "Schuldich, from the lower city." The crown prince nodded, and soon Crawford, Schuldich, Farfarello, and Nagi were allowed to retreat to the crowd.

Three hours later, the members of Crawford's house returned to the carriage for the journey back into the town proper and home. Schuldich sat by the door, leaning out the window and idly watching the passersby. He wondered where his friends from the time before his slavery were.

Suddenly, he saw a pair of familiar green eyes framed by familiar golden hair. Schuldich, ignoring the fact that the carriage was moving, albeit slowly, threw open the door and leapt out, running towards the face that had disappeared into the crowd. "Yotan!"