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[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

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scarlet and vin // swindle // 3,234 words

The sun was only just beginning to rise off the coast of Italy. The pink and orange rays of the morning sun warmed the spring frost that followed a chill into the night. The arrival of light breathed life into the port town they had docked in- a necessary detour.

Watching the man that boarded her ship as a mere stowaway nearly a year before walk off her ship brought less joy to Scarlet than she had anticipated. Standing at the rail, the ocean breeze whipped violently at her loose curls, though she remained perfectly still beneath the flaming chaos. She thought she’d wanted nothing more than to rid herself and her crew of his presence, but just two steps onto the dock and the Obsidian already felt empty; lacking.

The feeling hardly belonged to her alone. Sam heaved a sigh and slumped over the rail, watching the forms of Vin and Fia wandering off the dock with a distraught expression. He glanced up the stairs at Scarlet before looking down at the gently lapping water and pushing himself up, gripping the wood a bit tighter than necessary. “I really thought it would work.”

The words matched those echoing in his mind, but the voice was not his. Sam glanced over as Warren stopped beside him with a look of hopelessness on his face and shook his head, his eyes flickering to his sister before looking up at Sam. “He was actually starting to get through to her,” he continued in a low voice.

Sam pressed his lips together and sighed, slapping a hand down on Warren’s shoulder. “Truth be told, I think ‘e was gettin’ to all of us.” He looked in the other direction as Finnegan began to make his sluggish way back up the ramp from sending them off and caught sight of the rest of the crew- half the men moving with more stiffness than the coldest of mornings could bring. As Sam’s sights found Scarlet once more, his expression changed to that of determination and his grip on Warren’s shoulder tightened before he threw his arm down and shoved past him towards the stairs. “An’ we can’t let ‘im walk away.”

Warren looked up in surprise then whipped around to scramble after Sam. “Wait, what?” He rambled in confusion. “What do you mean? You expect him to stay for her sake?” He asked, voice heavy with doubt.

Sam hardly paused as he looked over his shoulder to answer, scurrying up the stairs. “Aye.” Warren snapped his mouth shut and hastily followed as Sam approached Scarlet, slamming his hands on the rail beside her hard enough to make the redhead jump with a startle. “Cap’n!” He greeted, his tone half playful and half demanding.

Scarlet took a step back and looked him up and down, drawing a breath she did not expect to be shaky. “What do ye want?” She snapped.

“Same thing ye do,” he answered coolly before gesturing to the dock.

Scarlet pinched her brows together then followed his gesture, taking a moment to realize he was motioning to the two fading figures. She scoffed defensively and shot a glare his way. “I’m gettin’ what I want,” she corrected. “Him gone.”

She tried to shove past him, but he blocked her with an arm and pushed her back to where she stood before. She looked at him as if she were ready to put a bullet through his head but he spoke before she had the chance. “Ye can’t lie to me, cap’n,” he said pointedly.

“I’m not lyin’!” She parked defensively.

“Scarlet-” Warren said, clearing his throat before pointing to her fingers drumming on her thigh.

Scarlet immediately clenched her fist and looked between them before her icy stare settled on her brother. “Ye told him about that?!” She hissed.

“... Should I not have?” Warren mumbled innocently.

Scarlet’s red lips made a line and her eyes narrowed as she slowly shook her head. “Damn you,” she muttered bitterly.

“So we followin’ ‘im er what?” Sam asked again, steadily meeting Scarlet’s stern gaze.

“He won’t come back,” she insisted.

“I think ‘e will,” Sam countered casually.

“He’d die first,” she hissed.

“Already did,” Sam pointed out, catching her off guard. “So how much ye willin’ to bet?”

Scarlet paused and eyed him. “On what?”

“Whether or not he’d come back.”

She hesitated before answering. “How much ye got?”

“However much ye want,” Sam said with a smirk before gesturing a crossed arm towards her cabin. “Against yer fancy saber on yer wall.”

Their eyes locked in silence for a long while before Scarlet shoved between them. “Deal.”

A grin spread across Sam’s face and he let his arms drop to his sides before following her.

“Wait,” Warren called after him. “Where are you going?”

Sam didn’t bother looking back to answer. “To win a bet.”

--

The journey to Abruzzo from the port they’d arrive at took far less time than it had from Spain. Nevertheless, Vin and Fia were still exhausted upon arriving at a familiar vineyard during mid-day. They’d caught the eyes of a few of the workers, one of which had run to the villa.

They rode on a horse-pulled cart they had bought early on after Vin had refused to allow Fia to ride horseback, pregnant as she was. He jumped off now, walking around to help her down. They exchanged a smile as she took his hand and helped her down. “I told you I would get you home,” he said, having reverted back to speaking the language most familiar to him about halfway through the journey, when the two of them realized English was no longer necessary. Still, both of them found themselves going back and forth, finding it a strange thing to have difficulty letting go of.

“I never said you wouldn’t,” Fia pointed out in a playfully sassy tone, the smile on her face reflecting her relief at being home. Vin smiled and put a hand on her shoulder as they began to head for the door.

Once they were close, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. Isabetta stood in slight shock before gripping her dress and rushing down the stairs.

Fia left Vin’s side and ran forward. “Mamma.”

“My Fiorenza,” she said softly, a smile on her face and her tired eyes brimming with tears. She held her arms out and touched Fia’s gently as she looked her up and down. A hand flew to her mouth and then wiped away a tear that began to roll down her cheek. “Look at you,” she whispered before pulling her daughter into a tight embrace. “Forgive me, little star, I should have never let them take you from me,” she murmured, tears beginning to flow more steadily.

“It was not your fault, mamma,” Fia insisted in a soothing tone. “I am back now.” She tried to be comforting, but tears reached her own eyes as well.

“Yes, you are,” Isabetta said, leaning back and holding Fia’s face in her hands before kissing her forehead. She then looked over as Vin approached, stopping a short distance away. She flashed Fia a last smile before wandering over to him. Stopping, she put her hands on her hips and looked him up and down. “Oh, my son,” She said with a shake of her head. “You look terrible.” She looked at him only a moment longer because a smile stretched across her face. Vin laughed and stepped forward until he was close enough to hug her tightly. She reached up and smiled, pressing her delicate hands against his back. “I missed you, Vinazio. I was worried I would not see you again.”

“I missed you too, mamma,” he told her quietly.

--

That night, Vin did not sleep as well as he expected he would. He laid in a familiar bed in familiar clothes with the familiar smell of the vineyard on a warm draft. It was as though the last year had never happened. Though when he squirmed against the softness of the bed, he knew it wasn’t true. He told himself it would be a relief to be back home where things were safe and well known. Instead, thinking of his life being as ordinary as it was before was more terrifying than than a sword to his throat. He’d been content before, but then again he hadn’t known what he was missing. He had been unable to comprehend a world more beautiful than Abruzzo, but now he knew he’d been wrong and all he wanted to do was see more. He groaned in frustration and turned to the side. It was too late to go back now.

He startled when he heard a knock on the door, followed by his mother’s voice calling his name. “Vinazio?”

Frowning, he threw off the blanket and walked up to the door, opening it quickly. He paused when he saw her seeming out of breath and slightly flustered. “I do not know what is going on,” she said in a quick and stern tone, “but you are wanted downstairs.” Her hair was in a messy braid and she wore a robe over her nightdress.

“What?” He asked urgently, instantly on edge. “By who?”

She shook her head. “I do not know, but the man’s Italian is dreadful. You mustn’t make me listen to another word of it,” she said, exasperated and slightly disgusted.

Confusion only growing, Vin walked past her and headed for the stairs, Isabetta following close behind. “Mamma, go back to bed,” He told her in a warning tone over his shoulder.

“I will not!” She scoffed and he didn’t bother to argue.

As they passed, Fia’s room, she exited with her own candle and easily fell into step beside her brother. “Who is here?” She asked with a little too much excitement.

“Fia, go back to your room,” he told her sharply, hardly thinking twice about the switch back to English.

“I will not!” She said, with a scoff all too similar to their mother’s.

Vin groaned as they followed him down the stairs. Why did he even try? As he reached the bottom, he began to head one way before feeling a tug on his sleeve. “This way,” Isabetta muttered, pulling him in the other direction.

It didn’t take long before the sound of voices could be heard. The closer they got, the more familiar they became and Vin picked up the pace until he was well ahead of the other two.

“I still don’t understand why I had to come along,” one of the voices huffed.

“Ack,” a gruff grunt sounded. “Quit yer whinin’, blondie. Ye wouldn’t last a day wi’out me th’r to keep ye from bein’ torn apart.”

“I would have been fine,” the first voice argued.

“Ye just wish you could have stayed behind to whore around on shore,” the gruff voice snapped back. “You’d ‘ave the ship burned down by th’ time we got back.”

“Hey!” The other shouted defensively. “That was an accident and a very small fire!”

A grin forced itself onto Vin’s face as he rounded the corner. The first thing he saw was a smug Sam with crossed arms, shooting an amused look at a red-faced Warren, and Scarlet standing behind the two of them with her face buried in her hands, fingers curving into her hair.
“Will the two of you shut it?!” Scarlet hissed sharply before the attention of all three of them diverted up to the approaching candle light.

Sam smiled at Vin and threw his arms in the air dramatically. “Ey, pretty boy!”

Vin stopped before them and let out a laugh of disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, we did risk our arses to save yers, mate,” Sam pointed out, gesturing to him. “Is it really so ‘ard t’lieve we’d make sure ye’d get ‘ome safe?” His eyes flickered to Fia as she stopped beside Vin and he offered her a smile that she returned with the addition of a blush.

Vin’s eyebrows raised in surprised. “So you came back and followed us across Italy?”

“Don’t think too much of it.” Scarlet spoke now, pushing the two men aside and standing in front of them. She held out a hand and examined the new rings decorating her fingers, stacked upon the old ones. “It was hardly an inconvenience.”

Warren stepped forward, pushing Scarlet aside. She stumbled back and glared at him sharply. “Well, we never really left in the first place,” he pointed out. “It took all of five minutes to realize we didn’t want you to go.”

Vin let out another small laugh. “Really?”

“Well yeah,” Warren said with a scoff, leaning on one leg and crossing his arms. “What, you think we’d drag you back from hell and not Italy?”

“We want ye back, mate,” Sam admitted. “The Cap’n wouldn’t risk the wrath of a goddess fer any ol’ rat,” Sam pointed out, taking a step forward and slapping a hand on his shoulder before looking over his own at Scarlet. “By th’ way, I believe I’ve won.”

“Not yet,” Scarlet snarled in a low voice, crossing her arms.

--

After a briefly hushed exchange of Italian between Vin and his mother with a word or two of input from Fia, it was agreed that the band of pyrates was to be allowed to stay overnight.

Vin had the intention of showing them all to their own room- they had no shortage- but upon opening the door to the first, Sam claimed loudly that it would do just fine and sprawled onto the plush bed, throwing an oversized pillow at Warren who promptly hugged it tight and collapsed straight onto the floor, practically asleep before impact was made.

Scarlet took a mere few steps past the door, arms wrapped tightly around herself as she looked around. She could hardly believe this was where Vin lived- or anyone, for that matter. She’d seen grand things, but never a home such as the Nicchi villa. It was a wonder to her why anyone would want to leave. It made her feel small and out of place, like a mediocre wood carving placed among elegant porcelain dolls.

Noticing her hesitation, Vin had mentioned there were still empty rooms she could have to herself, but she’d quickly turned down the offer, fairly certain the night would bring no sleep to her. Before leaving, Vin voiced the assurance that if he were needed- by her or any other- he was merely down the hall.

When he closed the door, Scarlet wandered through the darkness to the only light in the room- the moonlight streaming through a window taller than herself. She rested her hands on the sill and gazed through the chilled glass, already fogging from her distant breath. She looked for a long time on the view beyond- hills rolling in the distance like a storm’s waves frozen in time. Draped with the dark blue of night, the description was hardly far off. She’d never seen land so vast and unblemished by trees and cliffs.

Eventually, she found herself hastily shoving away from the window and pacing the room instead. She reverted back and forth between these actions until she lost track of time completely. Hands folded behind her back mid-pace, she slowed to a stop and turned her head towards the door. After a bout of inner conflict, she rushed towards the direction of the bedside table, picking her way around her sleeping brother until she reached it and snagged the candle in it’s holder, swiftly lighting it.

Once she had the means to light her way, Scarlet rushed for the door before she had time to change her mind, opening it and slipping to the other side before closing it behind her with a soft click.

She was taken aback when she turned around simply by the way the firelight reflected off marble floors and trinkets on display. Making her way down the hall as quietly as possible, she halted and backtracked when she passed a mirror on the wall. What she saw in the reflection very nearly made her turn right back around and pace the remainder of the night away.

There was a gaping lack of reflective surfaces on the ship, and not without reason. She’d changed nothing of her average look, and what she saw would have normally made her smirk smugly for startling herself. At that point, however, it seemed even more out of place than she already felt. Her red curls were wild and tangled, a halo of stray, aimless hair glowing around the beads and twisted braids. Her eyes looked pale and lifeless, offset by the black smudges ringing them. A frown reached her faded red lips as she stared at the scar that split them- had she not seen herself since she’d acquired the injury? Cautiously, she parted her lips, but snapped them shut the instant she saw the glint of her gold tooth.

When her eyes flickered up to stare back at themselves she realized they were wide and unsure as a child’s, but only for an instant. Narrowing them, she turned hastily away, back the way she’d come in the first place. However, in a few paces she began to slow. Growling under her breath, she whipped around and marched past the mirror without slowing, at the same time keeping a pace that wouldn’t make the candle she held flicker out.

Soon enough, Scarlet came to a dead stop in front of the door Vin had indicated as his. She raised a clenched hand to knock but stopped short, drawing a breath before reaching straight for the knob instead.

Her heart pounded against her will as she slowly pushed the door open and slipped inside. She didn’t have to walk far before a single bed and sleeping body became illuminated by her handheld flame. She slowed as she reached the bedside, her eyes on Vin, still with slumber, as she gently placed the candle holder on the table.

Her expression softened as she looked down at him, an uneasy mixture of regret and longing overwhelming her. She bit her lip and raised a hesitant hand, the back of it nearly brushing the side of his face before she curled her fingers and recoiled. What was she doing? Why had she come? She concluded that there was no logical reasoning behind her actions, blamed her thought process on sleep deprivation, and snatched the candle holder from the nightstand. Eyes lingering on the man a moment longer, she turned and hastily made her way back to the door without a second glance.

The second her back was turned, Vin blinked his eyes half open and breathed a sigh composed entirely of breath he hadn’t been aware he held. He remained still and watched the light fade as she walked away. He wanted to call out. He wanted to tell her to stay, but the words caught in his throat and soon enough, there was a closed door between them and he was left alone.

Perhaps if she had given in to one last glance before walking through the doorway- perhaps if he had been able to find the words he wished to speak- then, perhaps, the night would have had more to offer than darkness and regret.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

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scarlet and vin // swindle // 1,940 words

Darkness. Silence. Dread.

That’s what filled the forgotten tomb and fueled the fear of the two figures left inside. The intention had been to pillage the place in search of a lost artifact. However, it took only a one wrong step to send a stone wall crashing to the ground, effectively sealing Scarlet and Vin in a small chamber with a single torch.

Both of them coughed and sputtered as the dust cleared and that’s when the dread began to seep into their chilled blood. Immediately, they both ran to the wall and frantically searched for anything that would move it, but it was no use. It was sealed air tight.

Vin heaved a heavy, helpless sigh and let his arms drop to his sides. “Great,” he muttered, craning his head back to look around at any crack he could have missed. “I think I can honestly say I would rather be impaled by arrows than starve to death.”

“Well, you would know,” Scarlet muttered under her breath from the other side of the room, running her fingers through the dust coating the empty shelving. “But lucky for you,” she added louder, “we’ll run out of air long before we starve.” She glanced around to assess the dimensions of the chamber. “I doubt we’ll make it to morning.” Then, after a short pause, she dropped the torch and stomped it out.

Darkness shrouded them. Neither could see a mere inch in front of their face as the last of the embers were smothered.

“Why did you do that?” Vin demanded, acutely aware at the echoes of his voice now that there was nothing else to focus on.

“Because fire uses oxygen to burn, you daft rat,” she pointed out, though her voice only held about half as much snap as it usually did. Slumping against the wall, she slid down and sat on the ground, pulling up her knees and leaning her head against the back of it. “Just an extra few minutes could be all they need to find us.”

Vin cringed at her words and the tone in which they were spoken. It was so unlike her to just give up- though admittedly he saw no other course of action. Rather than arguing, he merely went slack and wandered towards the direction of her voice. “I would think you would be looking out for traps,” he teased, attempting to lighten the mood at least a little.

Scarlet scoffed. “Why would I? You’re the one with a habit of running into them.” She paused, hearing his steps grow closer and a smirk reached her lips, sliding her leg out ever so slightly. Soon enough, it came in contact with the man’s foot and Vin let out a yelp as he stumbled onto the stone floor.

Despite her attempts to keep a straight face, Scarlet burst into laughter that were quickly replaced by low cackles.

Vin caught himself as he hit the ground, suffering only scrapes on his hands. Once the blood stopped roaring in his ears from the sudden rush of adrenaline and Scarlet’s laughter was heard, he couldn’t keep his lips from twitching into a small smile. With a grunt, he pulled himself up and leaned heavily against the wall beside her, pulling up one knee and resting his arm upon it. “Are you quite done?”

“Only until I think of something else,” she snickered. With that, her laughter began to subside.

Silence filled the crumbling tomb.

“Is there anything you wanted to do before you died?”

The question was Vin’s and it took Scarlet by surprise. “No,” she answered after a moment of thought. “I’ve done enough, wouldn’t you say?” His only response was a small laugh. “What about you?” She added.

“Oh, yeah,” he answered without hesitation, a smile spreading across his face at the thoughts. “All I wanted was to marry the girl I loved. Raise our children on my family’s vineyard. Waste my days away playing lute in the sun, never leaving the villa.” He spoke the words dreamily, but trailed off near the end. “But that was a very long time ago.”

“What happened?” Scarlet asked curiously, her voice a mere mumble.

He let out a quiet laugh. “I died,” he answered simply. “Then the list became more of a… What I want to do before it happens again. It is a strange thing,” he continued quickly, “how your priorities change after feeling the touch of immortality.” There was a short silence before he spoke again, quiet and careful. “If I am to be honest, I believe I remained dead that day. I have been living a different life since I… Came back.” He hesitated at the last part. “That is still very strange to say,” he muttered under his breath.

“Is a different life a bad thing?” Scarlet asked, rolling her head against the wall to face him though she knew he could not see her.

Vin pressed his lips together in thought. “No,” he decided. “Absolutely not.”

“So I guess you had to die in order to live,” Scarlet sneered, then her voice grew lighter and playfully innocent. “Had I known that would be the case, I would have run you through long before we ever reached the caves.”

“I believe you,” Vin muttered. He paused and allowed silence to flood the cavern yet again. He knew she had turned her head towards him. Though it was distant, he could feel the light touch of her breath against his neck. A subtle change, but complete darkness had a way of making one aware of small things. He shifted his head to face her as well, not needing light to be able to see the figure of her slumped beside him in his mind. On impulse, he lifted his hand and extended it towards her with the intention of brushing away the curls he was sure fell in her face.

The second he made contact, however, Scarlet emitted a small squeak and lashed out, managing to smack his hand away. “What are you doing?!”

Vin retracted his arm in surprise and a violent red reached his face. “Well, I… Just… Where is your face?” He asked, exasperated.

Scarlet was taken aback by the question and scoffed humorlessly. “Slightly higher than that!”

Vin cringed inwardly and shrank back a little. “Sorry…”

“No you’re not,” Scarlet muttered, shifting herself so that she faced forward and crossed her arms over her chest.

Vin frowned at her retort. “Well excuse me for wanting to die a decent man.”

Scarlet burst into laughter that was much less lighthearted than before. “Oi, love, that ship sailed a long time ago.” A smirk reached her lips. “At least you can cross that off your list.”

Vin took a breath to argue but snapped it shut again when no valid argument came to mind. Instead, he was merely reduced to stutters. “What- You- That was not-” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “You think far too highly of yourself, Captain,” he managed to state in a composed tone.

Scarlet drew a deep breath through her nose. “You know,” she said casually, “maybe I shouldn’t be passing up this chance to run you through. After all,” she continued, her tone growing to be a dark kind of playful, “every minute of oxygen counts.”

Vin raised his brows in subtle surprise. “You really want to kill me?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she answered with a wave of her hand. “Though making you suffer would be a far more amusing way to pass the time.”

“More amusing than what?” He asked curiously, the threat on his life flying over his head as swiftly as a bird.

“Any idea of yours,” she muttered suggestively.

Vin paused and raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see how that would be more entertaining than any idea you think I have.”

“I meant entertaining for me,” she pointed out.

“And that would not be?” He smirked, crossing his arms.

Scarlet scoffed, a smile reaching her though her voice did not reveal it. “Who’s thinking highly of themselves now?”

“How would you know I am nothing to think highly of?” He retorted.

She uttered a cold laugh. “Oh please.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh. “I suppose I will just have to prove it.”

“Good luck with- wait-” Before Scarlet could finish her sentence, there was a looming presence over her as Vin pressed his hands to the wall on either side of her and her lips were stilled by the touch of his.

Scarlet was taken aback by the action but quickly managed to shove him away. Being as he had only twisted towards her from where he sat before, it was easy to knock him off balance and to the ground. Shifting her feet under her, Scarlet crouched and pressed her hands against his shoulders, leaning down until the tip of her nose brushed his. “You’re forgetting about the dagger in my belt,” she murmured.

Vin’s heart began to pound but he dared not move. “So… Which scenario is this?” He asked breathlessly.

Suddenly, he felt the brush of her lips on his cheek at the same time as a cold blade barely graze his neck. “I guess you’re about to find out,” she murmured mischievously.

Just then, there was a deafening boom just outside the door, causing dust to rain from the ceiling and streams of flickering light escaping newly made cracks. With the sudden startle of the impact, Scarlet impulsively collapsed onto Vin’s chest and he wrapped his arms around her protectively, squeezing his own eyes shut against the drifting dust.

There was another, smaller blast soon after and the two of them were wracked with a sudden flurry of coughing, not yet aware of the figures entering through the blasted gaps until one of them spoke.

“We can come back later if its a bad time.”

Squinting against the firelight, Vin looked through the veil of dust to see Warren ducking inside with a torch and a smug grin while Sam trailed behind and frustratedly knocked rocks loose so he could also fit through the opening Warren had entered through.

Vin let his head fall back down onto the stone and pushed on Scarlet’s arm. She flopped over beside him and coughed again with a groan, draping her arm over her forehead. “How did you do that?” She called to her brother.

“Well, you know, it’s not like you have a shortage of gunpowder,” Warren pointed out.

Scarlet’s eyes flew open and she pressed her lips together. “You used my gunpowder?”

Warren jumped when Sam slapped a hand down on his shoulder. “Ye best run, mate,” he warned.

Wide-eyed, Warren looked at him, then back down at Scarlet who had scraped her dagger off the ground and was rising to her feet. It took only a moment for Warren to turn and bolt back through the hole.
“Hey!” Scarlet shouted, picking up the pace as she scrambled after him. “Get back here!”

With a gruff laugh under his breath, Sam sauntered forward and offered Vin a hand, which he took, and hauled him to his feet. Their sights traveled to the hole where he siblings had disappeared back into the tomb.

“‘E won’t make it through th’ night,” Sam laughed.

“That makes two of us,” Vin muttered under his breath, reaching up to touch his hand to his neck, still chilled by the touch of the metal.

Sam turned and looked him up and down before bursting into a laugh and walking out of the chamber, trailed by an emotionally worn out Italian.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

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vin and catelina // swindle // 729 words

The sun took it’s time setting over the hills of the familiar vineyard. Golden light washed over a modest barn, standing alone on the vacant hills. Horses still lingered lazily in the pasture surrounding it, but there were two figures on the inside that had not ventured beyond the door for the better part of the day.

Up in the hayloft these figures sat in silence. side by side, both only sixteen years of age. The boy had pulled one knee to his chest and draped his arm over it, his head leaning against the wall while his blonde hair fell just above his shoulders. The girl who sat beside him slumped carelessly with her legs extended before her, the dress she wore strewn in the dust and gathered at her knees as she mindlessly fiddled with pulling apart strands of hay. Her wide golden brown curls were pinned up and her dress was elegant, but her demeanor described a different person altogether. One thing she never minded was getting her hands a little dirty.

The two had sat in the same spot periodically since they were old enough to find the place. Generally they filled the barn with laughter and carefree banter, but not on that day. Only hours before the two had been told by their parents of the betrothal between them, and neither had handled the news well. Both, however, had ended up in the same place and had yet to speak a single word to each other.

“Maybe you should just go.” The boy’s Italian words were a mere murmur, but still startling in the silence that preceded.

The girl’s brown eyes widened slightly as she turned her head to face him in surprise. “Go?” She repeated. “Go where?”

He rolled his head over to her and shrugged. “Wherever you want. Just go with Luca and leave.”

A slight blush reached her face at the mention of the boy she’d been secretly infatuated with for months. She then sighed and looked down at her lap, frustration overcoming her. “I could not just leave,” she pointed out bitterly, though it was aimed more at the situation than him.

“Why not?” The boy asked with genuine curiosity, shifting his position to face her better.

She let out a small, humorless laugh, using a piece of hay to draw in the thick dust beside her. “Because that would be disrespectful.”

“Catelina,” he said frankly, “do you really want to marry me?” He flashed a charming smile and when she didn’t look up, he leaned closer until a smile cracked on her face and she shoved him away with a laugh.

“Absolutely not,” she answered. She watched him catch himself before falling over with a playful smirk, touching a delicate hand to her chest. “I would rather die than be missus Vincenzo Nicchi.”

Leaning back on his hands, Vin sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. “You wound me, Catelina Lamon.” He stood with a grunt and offered her a hand, which she took, and pulled her to her feet. “It is settled then.”

Catelina scoffed, brushing the dust from her dress. “I have agreed to nothing.”

“Sure you have,” Vin insisted. He then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and turned her, making her stumble with a small squeak. He paid no heed, making them face the opening at the level of the hayloft and holding out his other arm towards the rolling hills and sinking sun. “You will marry Luca and you will be happier than you would be here.”

Catelina smiled at the view before pulling back a bit and looking up at him. Her expression faltered slightly. “What about you?” She asked quietly.

“Me?” He scoffed, letting his arm drop to his side. “I will be happier than ever.” He said it with a smile, but the lighthearted feel was quickly replaced with tension. Suddenly, the silence was broken when Catelina let out a dramatic sigh and leaned heavily against him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

No, Vin didn’t want to marry Catelina, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to leave. Still, he saw no other option than to let go of his closest friend for the sake of them both- but not yet. If only until the sun bid farewell to their final day in the hayloft, he would hold on.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

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vin, beth, and scarlet // swindle // 1,345 words

“Are you sure you know where you are going?” Vin’s voice was full of doubt as he followed Scarlet through the dense foliage, looking around warily.

“Of course,” Scarlet retorted with a grunt, cutting down obstructions before them with her sword. “This is the way the guy said do go.” Then, suddenly, she stumbled upon a small yet well worn path and threw a smirk over her shoulder. “What did I tell you?”

Vin merely pointed with a lazy finger and looked at her. “Could we have been following that this whole time?”

Scarlet frowned and turned her head away from him, sheathing her sword and wandering onto the path. They followed it in silence for a little while, until she felt as though something was off. Narrowing her eyes in concentration, Scarlet waited for the precise moment to switch up her footsteps and shove Vin by the shoulder so he changed his as well. That’s when she was sure of it. There was a third pair following them.

“What was that for?” Vin asked, righting himself and smoothing his shirt.

“Shut up,” Scarlet snapped, whipping around to look behind them before adding quietly, “We’re being followed.”

Vin was instantly on edge, his limbs stiffening as he looked around. The silence was tense for what seemed like an eternity until there was a crack sound behind him, followed by a crumble and clatter of metal on stone. Whipping around, he saw that Scarlet had been floored, a tony stream of blood trickling from her head.

Heart quickening and anger growing, he scanned the treeline for the offender. He knew Scarlet would be fine as long as he kept her from being attacked while she was out cold. He stood protectively over her, waiting with anticipation for another stone to be thrown, but instead quick footsteps sounded behind him. Eyes widening, he sucked in a breath and ducked, feeling the whoosh of a weapon above his head.

he stood and whipped around just in time to react to the swing that was taken at him, jerking back and grabbing the arm of the attacker. He heard a weapon clatter to the ground before the arm was jerked free from his grip as its owner stumbled back. He was ready to launch an attack of his own until something made him stop short.

Vin’s demeanor fell when he looked up and saw the pair of green eyes staring back at him was startlingly familiar, as well as the braided auburn hair and freckled skin. Chest heaving with something between breathlessness and a humorless laugh, he watched as the woman mirrored his expression, though collected herself far quicker than he did.

She straightened up and a smirk reached her thin lips for a split second before the air was met with her laugh.

“You?” He asked in disbelief, sure it must have been some coincidence.

“Me!” The woman exclaimed snidely, throwing her arms out before letting them fall back to her sides and tilting her head, looking him up and down. “Did you get taller?” She asked with innocent curiosity.

Vin’s expression fell into a frown and he shifted his feet, straightening up. “It is a possibility,” he admitted flatly.

“Now that’s just not fair,” she stated, cocking a hip as she put her hands on them and blew a piece of hair out of her face. “Though I will admit the scruff is a nice touch. Certainly took long enough,” she added under her breath. “So are you still boring as a plank of wood?” She asked innocently.

“That depends,” he muttered. “Are you still a puttana?”

She sucked in a breath through her teeth and touched a hand to her chest. “I have feelings too, you know.” She kept herself from snickering at the anger she sparked in his expression and instead interrupted whatever he would have said with a gesture to Scarlet. “What’s the matter with her?”

“You hit her in the head with a rock!” Vin growled, clenching his hands.

“Oh yeah,” she murmured.

He glared at her then looked over his shoulder as the form of the captain stirred behind him. Vin quickly turned and knelt beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Scarlet?” He murmured quietly.

Hair sprawled on the ground behind her, Scarlet groaned and turned her head away from the brightness of the sky before blinking her eyes open. “What the hell was that?” She grunted through clenched teeth.

Vin offered a small smile and grabbed her upper arm, hauling her to her feet. She gripped his arm in return, stumbling only slightly from the headrush. Bringing a hand to her head, she touched the trickle of blood and retracted her hand with a frustrated frown. Squinting, she peered forward and noticed the woman standing a short distance away, smirking in some infuriating satisfaction.

Scarlet had no idea if she was the one that threw the rock, but something about her face made her want to punch it. Baring her teeth, Scarlet stalked forward and reached for her sword before Vin grabbed her shoulder, effectively halting her enough that she stumbled back. She looked at him accusingly but he merely returned her gaze with a warning until the other woman spoke up.

“Gonna introduce me to your new sciattona?”

Vin gave her a sharp glare.

“What does that mean?” Scarlet demanded in a low voice. He ignored her and she looked up at him. “Does she know you?”

Vin drew a breath to respond, but instead cringed as a cackle left the other woman. “Do I know him?” She smirked and her eyes flickered up and down the length of him. “That might be an understatement.” Scarlet only continued her glare, still slightly dazed from the hit to the head. “Have you two- you know,” she said, flicking her finger between them. Vin groaned and hung his head, pinching the crooked bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Does he still do that annoying thing? You know what I’m talking about, don't you?”

“Smetti di parlare,” Vin snapped suddenly, looking up at her and holding his hands before him with a jerk.

The woman looked over to him and raised an eyebrow, a grin spreading over her face. “Qualcuno finalmente cresciuto alcune palle, huh?” She taunted before looking between them thoughtfully. “So how does the height difference work?”


Balling his fists, Vin clenched his jaw and took a step towards her, surprised to find that he was brought to a stop when the flat side of Scarlet’s sword was slammed into his chest. He looked over to find her glaring at the other woman before sheathing her cutlass and stalking forward herself.

The other woman only raised her eyebrows in mild surprise and crossed her arms, staying put as Scarlet approached her. “What are you gonna do, short stuff?” She asked flatly. “Poke me?”

Indeed Scarlet was shorter than her, the top of her head barely reaching her nose. She stopped close enough to the woman that she could feel her breath stir her hair, holding her glare. A smirk crossed the taller woman’s face and she was about to let out a laugh before Scarlet backhanded her across the face hard enough to send her reeling to the side, in more shock than pain.

Wearing a smirk of her own, Scarlet turned and marched back towards Vin, walking past him without stopping. “Come on,” she instructed bitterly. “Let’s find this Elizabeth person before we’re stopped again.”

Raising his eyebrows, Vin watched her walk by and took only a few steps to follow her before both of them stopped short.

“Elizabeth Watson?”

They turned their heads and eyed her cautiously. “You know her?” Vin voiced.

She let out a laugh and let her arm drop to her side. “Oh honey,” she rasped. “I am her.”

They were stunned into silence for a second before Scarlet whispered. “How do you know her again?”

Vin heaved a pained sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “It is a long story.”

[casimir]

Don't mind me. Never going to do my college homework.
Just gonna. Sit here and.
#Scarin and #Eliam all day every day, who needs food.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

dudedudedudedudeshhhhhno
-ahem-
#vinlet
#willabeth
and food lol what is that
is it like this "sleep" thing everyone keeps talking about?

[casimir]

Shh, let me believe what I want.
But okay fine Willabeth sound so much better.
Ah someone teach me how to ship.
Oh, yeah, I've seen it on the Discovery channel.
It's apparently needed for life I mean I'm over here like
-shrug- lol okay.

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

__________________________________________________________________________
erren and marcello // swindle // 1,14 words

Rare it was that a storm found it's way into the sky over the villa. Rare indeed. Rare indeeeed. The two words droned on emotionlessly in one blonde head, untamed spirals bouncing into a pair of incredibly bored pale blue eyes.

Erren wandered the halls of the villa aimlessly, mastering a leisurely pace that would take him more or less an hour to skirt the edges of every room on every level. He had master this particular speed after many experiments- and many protests of his housemates. Though it did little to solve the "bored" issue, he noticed something new every time around, and it became somewhat of a game.

Near halfway through his second lap, he stopped short, cut off by a voice in the music room. Pinching his brows together, Erren backtracked and turned down the hall. Any sound at this point rang with the sweet promise of cheap entertainment and the closer he got, the closer he recognized the voice as his cousin's.

"... But what of that? Demetrius thinks not so.
He will not know what all but he do know.
And as he errs, doting on Hermia’s eyes,
So I, admiring of his qualities..."

A devious smirk reached Erren's lips. He'd recognize that monologue anywhere, and Marcello reciting said monologue could only mean so many things. Slowing his steps to a silent pace, he slunk into the music room undetected by his older cousin, placing himself on the plush sofa under the window and crossing his legs upon the coffee table.

"... Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind..."

The dark-haired young man continued on, pacing the room with his dark eyes closed and completely freckled face tilted towards the ceiling. His hands gestured with each syllable, long dark hair straight save for the way it curled up at his shoulders. His long, thin legs strode at a steady pace- he didn't need to see to keep himself from running into something that furnished the familiar room. The blonde boy crossed his arms, almost disappointed in himself that he was sitting to watch the droll display. But it was storming and he was bored.

That is, assuming that he assumed he knew where everything was.

Grin widening, Erren carefully slipped his feet from the table and stood, creeping over to the piano which Marcello passed with each lap. Waiting for the older boy to turn the other way again, Erren very carefully pushed the piano bench out just barely, biting back a cackle.

It was storming.

And he was very bored.

"... And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
Nor hath Love’s mind of any judgment taste- Ah!"

The monologue was abruptly cut off as Marcello's calf struck the bench and he fell forward, ending up high-centered on the thing.

"Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste!" Erren continued dramatically, reaching a hand to the sky as Marcello pushed himself up with a grunt. "And therefore is Love said to be a child," Erren continued, bring his fist to his chest with the sarcastically sorrowful words, looking up through his hair to meet Marcello's glare as he brushed himself off and kicked the bench back into place. "Because in choice he is-" Erren came to an abrupt halt and squeaked in surprise, though a cheshire grin touched his face as Marcello lunged at him and he bolted to the other side of the piano, slamming his hands on the top of the upright hard enough to make his cousin cringe. "So oft beguiled!" Erren concluded, his voice shaking with laughter. "So rude to interrupt a monologue," he teased before sliding his hands from the cold wood and casually sauntering back towards the sofa. "What were you doing reciting Helena's part anyway?" He asked, plopping into the plush fabric. "You know she's a woman, right?"

Marcello narrowed his eyes and scoffed mockingly. "Yes, I know she's a woman," she muttered, suddenly self conscious. Though he enjoyed occasionally startling his trouble-making cousin, he was much softer of demeanor, preferring to avoid conflict. Besides, he may have been a solid four and a half years older and taller to boot, but the lanky boy had never had luck winning anything physical against the broad-chested blonde. He frowned in that moment, hating that his knowledge of the one thing he knew (theatre) was being questioned. Though he didn't fret too much- he knew Erren was teasing. But he did also just trip him with a piano bench.

Erren paused before letting out a small laugh. "Wait- have you been cast as a woman?" He asked. Before Marcello could do more than open his mouth to reply, Erren burst into laughter. "I told you know to grow out your hair that long!" He said breathlessly. "You're already built like your mother!"

Anger began to fill the young man standing by the piano, but it quickly faded and he pursed his lips. After all, he wasn't wrong. "At least I don't have lady locks," he smirked, crossing his arms.

Erren gasped in mock offense and leaned forward, his (feminine) curls trembling as he jerked a finger in his direction. "You take that back you freckled fiend."

"What are you going to do, shoot me with your bow?" Marcello countered.

"Oh no," Erren said darkly. "I'm going to do something far worse." Standing hastily he marched over to the piano and swiped the script from it with an iron fist, making Marcello's demeanor fall instantly. "I'm going to insult your acting."

"Erren," Marcello squeaked in protest, cringing as Erren wrinkled the pages of his precious script, flipping through it.

"Shhp," Erren said, holding up a finger before pointing it at the page. "Ah, here we are. This was far too flat," he said, beginning to wander slowly. "All this- terrible. Start over." Marcello paused, slightly taken aback and at a loss for words. Erren stopped and turned to face him at the edge of the room, looking up with his eyes expectantly. "Well?"

After a moment of hesitation, Marcello cleared his throat and started the first ling over. "How... Happy some-"

"I'm sorry," Erren interrupted. "Was that a stumble? Did you just stumble over your words, Helena?" He asked flatly. "Start over."

Surprise growing to determination, Marcello started again but didn't get to the second verse before Erren stopped him again.

"You are heartbroken! Heartbroken, Helena! I want you on the floor!"

"Alright!" Marcello shouted back, wide-eyed.

And so the boys worked on a single monologue clear through the storm, and as Erren ordered his cousin to act like a woman, every trace of boredom was swept away as swiftly as the clouds.

[raey]

you...
You...
- gasps -
- let herself fall on the ground -
I'm down here if someone should miss me
Too cute
Too much for today

[ʞ ɔ ǝ ɹ ʍ d ı ʞ s]

DON'T YOU FAINT ON ME, HELENA

... I mean thank you