The Captain\'s Capture

[Trillian]

Ridley was pursuing her, but it was the slowest chase he\'d performed.  She was likely unaware of his presence for he looked like any other noble wandering vaguely through the crowd, perusing the stalls.  If she\'d noticed him, she\'d dismissed him, for there were many who were travelling the same way, doing the same thing.  The difference between them and him was that he recognised the difference in her when she was off duty (but not yet out of uniform, perhaps she\'d come by the markets when on her way between leaving work and arriving home) and he was looking at her when her back was to him, instead of whatever lay before him and whatever stall he happened to be visiting.
 
He watched as she moved a few stalls upward after spending quite some time looking at a necklace, even taking the time to touch it and lift it to her neck while the stall owner showed her a looking glass to admire herself in.  He saw how she\'d smiled but then shaken her head and set it back down, hasty in her steps to get away (or so he perceived) lest temptation for the necklace cause her to make a purchase she might not be able to afford.
 
He waited until she was at least five stalls beyond and then moved closer to the stall with the necklace.  There were no gems on what she\'d picked up, but the stones had been cut in a clever way and arranged tastefully on a thinly crafted chain.  He could see how it had drawn her eye but he didn\'t know why she hadn\'t bought it, for it was inexpensive.  He\'d meant to simply whip it off the table with a quick sleight of hand but it wasn\'t necessary, for he had the coin to purchase it properly and didn\'t wish to risk being caught or accused with her so close.
 
He took it, paid for it and then closed the gap between himself and the captain.  She was ten stalls up now and he quickened his pace.  He was moving stealthily, his footsteps unheard beneath the trample of the crowd\'s footsteps around him.  Approaching her back and holding out the necklace in his hand, he meant to touch her shoulder to alert her to his presence and then strike a conversation from there.  What he didn\'t expect was while he was reaching forward, she spun and easily gripped his outreaching wrist, stopping him before he made contact with her, her gaze stern until she looked down at his hand and the necklace within it.
 
It occurred to him that she probably thought he\'d been carrying a dagger and planning an assassination on her, his movements could\'ve been interpreted that way to someone who didn\'t know what he held.  It also occurred to him that she was liquid fast with her reflexes, very strong because of her grip and also a great deal more aware than he\'d given her credit for.  Was she off-duty?  He trusted his instincts on that one and still believed so, but it was said that a guard was never off-duty, so to speak.  She certainly hadn\'t been lax.
 
Smiling at her after his initial surprise at being grabbed, keeping faith that his attire would mark him as a noble and not a commoner, he spoke without alarm.
 
"I believe you dropped this," he said to her, knowing she would deny it belonged to her, and also knowing that she\'d recognise the piece.

[Existentially Odd]

Wilson glanced from his serene expression to the object held in his hand, recognising the unique necklace and wondering what sort of game the gentleman was playing.  Although she\'d felt the prickle of being watched as she strolled through the markets, she always was being watched simply because of how she looked and who she was, so she hadn\'t put a lot of stock in the feeling - not enough to be concerned, anyway.  When a shadow she\'d seen moving towards her caught her eye, however, she\'d reacted instinctively and found this pretty package invading her personal space so rudely (rather than a punch, as she\'d first anticipated).

"No.  I didn\'t," she argued mildly, flicking an assessing gaze over the man.  He was good looking, shorter than her and dressed very nicely.  His frame was lithe and toned - nothing too strange in that - but she noticed immediately that the hand she still held was unusually scarred... for a noble.  Little white flecks across the tanned skin of his hand told her that  he liked to play with sharp objects - she would normally assume them to be combat fighting scars, except that he didn\'t present as someone who used his body in such a manner.

His sudden approach added to her suspicion, causing her to ponder his motives, his rank, his presentation, despite having no proof that the man meant her ill or that his intentions were dishonourable.  She simply... didn\'t trust him and in this, she did rely onher instincts.  Looking him over again, she saw that, though his shoulders were set confidently, he didn\'t seem to be emanating the arrogance of belonging to an upper class.  He seemed to have a different cockiness altogether about him, but exactly what... she couldn\'t quite put her finger on.  Yet.  "Who are you?" she demanded, eyes narrowing on his as her gloved hand squeezed his wrist warningly.

[Trillian]

Knowing she would be suspicious but assuming that she wouldn\'t be close to the mark at all (and how surprised and paranoid he would be if only he could hear her thoughts), Ridley smiled at her when prompted for his name, despite the warning squeeze upon his wrist.
 
"Ridley Beck," he announced, and the Beck family was fairly well known in the merchant circles, enough for most people to know there was only one son named Chalmer (as far as they remembered). "From the wrong side of the sheets," he said apologetically, a tiny smile of shame that he didn\'t feel that might explain to her why he was the way he was, without knowing that he\'d provided her an alibi of a sort. "Am I being arrested?" he prompted, knowing she wouldn\'t but wondering if she would lead him back to the stall to check he really had paid for the item.

[Existentially Odd]

She raised her eyebrows at his cool declaration that he was a Beck of ill-repute, trying to place the name.  She could only come up with a vague recollection of a man that travelled - a merchant, she thought - who had had a caravan of goods attacked and ransacked en route once, years ago.  The name seemed plausible enough, at any rate, and had her instantly dropping his hand once he joked about being arrested.

"Not at all, you\'re free to go," she told him dismissively, her hands grasping the belt over her abdomen and her shoulders stiffening slightly as she formally looked him over, her tall frame held straight and proud.  Despite the fact he\'d approached her, it was obvious that she expected him to take his leave at her order.

[Trillian]

Free to go?  When he was released and told this, he almost visibly deflated, his shoulders dropping a little but his hand remaining outstretched with the majority of the necklace still in his palm, a loop trickling down between two of his fingers.
 
"But the necklace," he told her, bringing attention back to it for it had been the reason he\'d approached her, so he said.  His gaze didn\'t drop from her face.  "It\'s for you.  Would you refuse my gift?"  he challenged, though she\'d not thought him as arrogant as a true noble, the arrogance was plainly there - though it was cheeky for he offered her a lopsided smile along with it.

[Existentially Odd]

Her gaze was steady as she looked into his dancing blue eyes, her voice a monotone.  The fact that he\'d been watching her long enough to know she\'d inspected the necklace some time ago was unnerving and only served to increase the suspicions she held with regard to him.

"I would," she confirmed mildly.  "Apart from the fact it is city policy that servants to the King not accept gifts in the course of duty, it would be inappropriate for me to take that from you in the public\'s eye.  It would look like you were bribing me," she drawled, taking a very sudden step closer to him so that she was in his personal space (obviously trying to intimidate) and staring hard at him.  "Are you attempting to win my favour for any particular reason, Mister Beck?" she hissed, eyes narrowing once more.

[Trillian]

Ridley\'s expression changed to that of a man who has been rejected deftly and without any concern for his feelings.  His expression shuttered and he tried to keep the smile on his face but played a portrayal of embarrassment, casting nervous and twitching glances to the public around them (who were, for the most part, ignoring them).
 
"I apologise, I... that was not my intention," he declared, bringing the necklace back to his chest and keeping it close to himself.  He still didn\'t feel as though his introduction to her was lost, in fact, it was serving its purpose for her to notice him, and for him to eventually win her over from regarding him as above the worth of the mud on her boots.  "I was being... clever, I thought.  I was under the mistaken impression that I was being spontaneous and romantic but I see now my behaviour was inappropriate."  He gave her a nod and pretended a look that he wished to melt into the crowd by looking up at her through his lashes.  Instead of bidding her good day and making his exit, he remained as he was, hoping that she would relent and offer him a few more choice words to work with.

[Existentially Odd]

The word \'romantic\' was her undoing; her large green eyes blinked several times in the attempt to process it.  What did he mean, attempting to be clever and romantic?  Why would a complete stranger say something like that to her?  Surely he knew who she was... her rank... realised that nobles simply didn\'t associate themselves with the working class (even if she was one of elite rank within that class)?

"I... beg your pardon?" she asked stiffly, glancing at the necklace he held to his breast and seeing new designs in it; the designs of a man approaching a woman with it, rather than a guard.  Could that be the case?  She still was unable to fathom why.

[Trillian]

Ridley\'s hopes soared when the captain finally seemed to be listening to him.  He wasn\'t sure what assumptions she\'d made to not realise what his offer of a necklace had meant, but at least she was getting the idea now.  He only wished to lure her in a way that would have her trusting him.  Not only to fulfill his promise to his boss but also because having the Captain of the Guard as a friend would be a momentous asset.
 
"Most men give flowers, I wished to be a little more creative," he chuckled.  "I wasn\'t sure what you would like, so when I saw that you held this piece to your neck I... thought I would take advantage of the opportunity."  As an aside to himself (as though she wasn\'t meant to overhear), he added: "I should\'ve bought it and taken my time to present it to you."

[Existentially Odd]

Wison had to purposely school her expression into staying bland, for she felt the urge to gape at the stranger standing before her - and that would be truly unbecoming, not to mention insulting.  She still had grave suspicions about his altruism - possibly more, due to the fact that he was speaking to her so brazenly (after acting even more so) and had no real nervousness in his eyes... and wouldn\'t a man who was genuinely interested in a woman and walked up to her to present a gift in such a manner be suffering some sort of concern over his radical act? - but there was an air of arrogance about him that drew her.  He had Dagger\'s manner; blind confidence in himself and his ability to convince anyone of the veracity of his actions.  Not that that was a good thing in the slightest, but it helped her explain to herself why she humoured him.

"Most men don\'t walk up to someone they don\'t know and spontaneously offer jewellery without first striking up a conversation.  At the very least," she condemned him haughtily, the gaze that raked his face reproachful.  "Do you know who I am?  Have we ever had a conversation before now?" she demanded, curious about the answer but showing no leniency in her tone nor her posture.  Her hands had not moved from casually grasping her belt front and she showed no signs of being willing to do so in order to take his gift.  Ever.

[Trillian]

Giving her a look of forlorn surprise as she rebuffed him and his actions, he waited until she finished speaking before giving his answer - one that rolled quite easily off his tongue.
 
"I thought the offer of a gift would be the beginning of our first conversation," he explained, then added, "though I expected it to go a little more sweetly than this."  He gave her a nervous smile even though the nervousness didn\'t reflect in his eyes, and plunged onward, the necklace still held against his chest in a fist, a loop of it dangling still in sight.  "I do know who you are, it\'s a little hard not to.  I wanted to know you a little better and had planned to ask you on an outing where you would be able to wear the necklace."  He licked his lips now and genuinely did seem to be worried that she would cast him away from herself.  "And... we would talk," he added with a little hope.

[Existentially Odd]

Again, she blinked at him, her mind coming to a single point and a frozen standstill.  "Why?" she asked, feeling somewhat stupid but unable to think beyond the word or come up with an answer that she liked, for herself.
 
Ridley Beck was an unknown noble, but he appeared to know her.  By reputation, at least.  Enough to want to strike up a conversation and buy her jewellery, so that they might become better acquainted. Despite his coy words about wanting to share an outing with her, though, he wasn\'t acting like a man smitten to the point of grandiose gestures.  He seemed far too cocky and... calculating for that.
 
Perhaps it was her cynicism guiding these thoughts, but she\'d been approached by too many people in too many ways, claiming to \'want to get to know her better\' just because they \'wanted to know the woman behind the uniform\'... but they never really did.  Everyone had motives.  Whether it was because she supped with the King or they wanted to understand how the next wave of taxes would be implemented or whether they just wanted to gain favour or a free guard for their next shipment, no-one really wanted to just get to know her for her.  No-one.
 
Thus, it had become a game; trying to figure out what this man wanted from her and giving him no leeway to wax lyrical, by using her traditionally blunt manner of speaking.  Let him try to tell her his sincerity was bottomless, his lust unbridled, his passion intense and honest, his endeavours fruitless until he\'d spied her beautiful face across the market... she hid a smile as she recalled some of the things that had been professed to her, trying to anticipate which course he might try.

[Trillian]

"Why does anyone wish to talk to anyone?" Ridley shot back, challenging her challenge. "I suppose it\'s the nature of your job to be suspicious, and is likely the reason you\'re the best one of the lot, otherwise you wouldn\'t have the rank you do," he pointedly looked at the marker on her uniform before his gaze found her glare, another lopsided smile on his face and a glimmer in his eyes. "Trust of a gentleman\'s word must be hard for you, as you must meet many liars. I\'m sure everyone you arrest declares their innocence. I, on the other hand, declare my guilt. I\'ve been wanting to talk to you for a long time. I\'ve been planning all these momentous occassions that would offer me the chance to do so. What would you call that? Intent?" He grinned at her, as though he was making a hilarious point.

[Existentially Odd]

Unswayed by his words, she nodded as he attempted to describe the pitfalls of her job to her, before complimenting her awkwardly and proceeding to explore the nature of trust, insinuating that he deserved it because he was confessing to an honest interest in her.  Sincerely.  She held her scorn at bay while she measured the response sitting upon her tongue, trying desperately not to smirk.

"I suppose it is, yes.  Or obsession.  Pray, what prompts you to become thusly interested in me?" she enquired, the tiniest hint of a smile lifting the corner of her mouth against her will, simply because she could imagine so easily where he would take this opening line.  It was hard to be humble in the face of such promising flattery.  She wondered if he would realise she was baiting him and was conflicted in her hopes; if he didn\'t realise, she would lose all respect for his intelligence but have a great deal of fun rebuking him, if he did... well, he might just prove himself smart enough to keep dangling a little longer (until she could pinpoint his real motives, anyway).

[Trillian]

"Doesn\'t every celebrity have their fans?" he replied back as easy as you please, only dropping a wink to her in the process, unabashedly flirting with her now.  He was toying with the necklace between both his hands now, swirling it about his index fingers as he talked, as though he could not keep his hands still.  He was prompted by her little smile, unswayed by her still-mocking tone, knowing he hadn\'t won her over (and wasn\'t even close) but at least he was entertaining her and that was a start.  To amuse her, to make her laugh or feel lighter inside than when she\'d felt upon grabbing his wrist, was to his advantage.

[Existentially Odd]

She grunted at his silly comeback, finding it too trivial to warrant a polite response.  She might be known in the castle proper and much of the outlying farmlands, but she didn\'t enjoy the status that the monarchy held - nor would she even suppose to usurp it.  All he\'d proved with his words was that she was merely her position in his eyes, for it was the job that raised her to awareness in the populace\'s summation, not her.  Not Lam Wilson - an excessively tall and masculinely-inclined female with an interest in combat arts, no ability to paint whatsoever and a secret, desperate longing to be loved for herself.

She looked Ridley over critically once more, deciding that he was bordering on insufferable and that she had better things to do with the daylight hours her readjusted shift would afford her, than stand around being flattered by a braggart.  "Good day, Master Beck," she bade him suddenly, inclining her head before spinning smartly on her heel and marching off in prime military fashion.  Her strides were as long as the crowded market permitted, for she intended to leave him behind and return to her home as quickly as possible.

[Trillian]

He walked in step behind her, taking equally long strides, talking as he walked.  He\'d seen the disappointment in her eyes at being called a celebrity, obviously she had an issue with being recognised for her rank - but how else was he supposed to know her?  Her uniform was all he had knowledge of.  It was along this vein that he struck.
 
"Perhaps I admire the type of woman who puts her King and country first," he declared, shouldering past people who moved out of the way for her and not for him.  "Perhaps there is a quality that the uniform gives you that initially attracts those such as myself who wish to get to know you better.  After all, is not your rank a mask you hide behind whether you would like to or not?  You seem not to enjoy recognition for your enviable position, perhaps you would like to inform the citizens that it\'s not so enviable.  Please, right now I only have aspirations as to the kind of woman you are, and I\'m tired of all the woman that don\'t have an opinion until I offer mine first, and I believed that you would be one of the select few in this rotton little nest that could see I\'m not the sum of my parts."
 
This last he spat, the passion coming from a forgotten life when he\'d been battling his father and forgetting himself he reached for her arm to hold her in place.

[Existentially Odd]

She reacted just as instinctively, whirling her body and striking with her hand, twisting his arm up and pinning it behind his back in one of the first and most basic manoeuvres she\'d ever learned.  She loomed over him - in an effort to make it not hurt too terribly much - her teeth clenched and her fiery gaze locked on his, her feet balanced on either side of his.  Her free hand went to the dagger strapped to the belt beneath her tunic without any extra thought, but she didn\'t draw it.

"I do have an opinion and it has nothing whatsoever to do with how pretty you are or how much you desire to know what lies behind my mask," she spat at him, offended by his words and his aggressive pursuit.  Perhaps, if she were not in uniform, fresh from a summary meeting with the King regarding the recently-passed Tournament of the Corn and how Oberon could better play its part next season - perhaps if she were in plain clothes, relaxing at a tavern and in a melancholy mood - perhaps then she might have found his confidence appealing (she was much the same, after all), but not now.

Movement beyond Ridley caught her gaze; she looked up and gave a sharp shake of her head as two of her guards approached at a jog, obviously having seen her and her suitor from their posts within the marketplace.  They were only doing their duty so she said nothing to them but they milled about a few metres away, obviously wanting to come to their boss\' rescue but too well-trained to defy her.  She looked back at the man within her grasp, wondering if he was enjoying the attention three guards and everyone gawking in their immediate area were giving him and his antics... wondering if he thought she was worth it now.

"My opinion is that I nicely refused your advances and you haven\'t the wit or the ego to take my rebuttal in the spirit that it was meant.  I hereby state my case more vehemently; I am flattered by your unique approach but I am not interested in anything you have to offer, is that blunt enough for you?"  She could hardly avoid watching him, pressed nose to nose as they practically were, but it was enough to see the nod she expected to come.  Already she regretted her harsh treatment of him, the humiliation she was forcing him to suffer by pinning his arm behind his back in the open street but it was a crime to deliberately lay a hand on any of the King\'s guard.  At least she wasn\'t arresting him for his boldness.

[Trillian]

"I understand," he said, his gaze downcast so that she wouldn\'t see the hatred for her in his eyes.
 
Oh how quickly things had changed, his plan to seduce her to his charms so that he could worm his way to her office through her heart so he could then pull the maps to the dungeons from her files.  She\'d taken his pride from him and left him hurting and seething, regretting that he\'d pursued her so hastily.  It was just like him to be stubborn to a fault, to want her to give into him so badly that he\'d ignored the very obvious signs that she wasn\'t impressed.
 
The necklace lay in the dirt at his feet, for even though he\'d held it in the hand that wasn\'t now twisted at his back, he at least had forgotten his grasp of it, deeming it unimportant.
 
He hoped his acknowledgement would be his release.

[Existentially Odd]

She let him go almost immediately, rolling her shoulders and straightening down her cloth uniform in an effort to calm her emotions and the situation.  Her lips were pressed together - for she wanted to both berate and apologise to him - yet she felt her actions were justified.  She could only hope he understood that she\'d reacted as any guard would, upon being manhandled without warning, and bear her no grudge.  Neither a confidante nor an enemy did she wish to make of this man.

"Perhaps when next we meet, there will be clearer expectations on both our parts and we can enjoy that civil conversation you were after," she told him after a few moments, not walking away because she was interested in how he would respond to her actions overall.  She doubted he had any genuine interest in her left now, but was more concerned about reprisal than anything else; arrogant men often reacted waspishly to being bested by a woman - especially physically.  She wasn\'t about to turn her back on him if he was going to throw a punch.  It was now his turn to make his way through the markets first.

[Trillian]

With his eyes still lowered, for he did not wish for her to see anything blazing in them, he stepped back.  She could see his face and the pout upon it for though his gaze was downcast, his head wasn\'t bowed.  He wasn\'t blushing but he turned his head to the side and his body followed soon after.  He stepped on the necklace purely by accident and looked down at it suddenly, not realising what the lump was beneath his soft boots.  He breathed in a sharp expulsion of air at the sight of it before moving away from her into the crowd, a moment later his hand moved to massage his shoulder opposite, the one she had twisted.
 
He didn\'t look back.

[Existentially Odd]

The crunch from under his foot drew her gaze and she reached down to pick the pretty necklace up, inspecting it briefly - it wasn\'t damaged, Ridley seemed relatively light on his feet - before watching his retreat.

Once he\'d been swallowed up by the crowd, she gave a vague smile of reassurance to anyone still keen to catch her eye in her immediate vicinity and then headed back to speak with her guards.

It seemed she\'d found a new person of interest for them to keep an eye on.