What Things May Come

Lionheart yawned; these trips into town were getting exhausting. Thankfully, her father had a meeting and she didn’t have to watch over any guest. This was her chance to get the chalice. She’ll never forget the first time she’d seen it. There was an awards ceremony that the capitol held every year. That particular year her father was receiving an award for his rune castor gun prototype. He hasn’t developed it much in the recent years, there were rumors of trouble brewing within the country so her father’s research funding was cut from the budget. He needed that money to support the family he had created, but the armaments of the national army took precedent. She yearned to be the first to use one, but there was no possible way until she saw the chalice.
It was rewarded to some smug general who, apparently, did a lot of brown nosing. She assumes so because she’d never heard of him from anyone especially her parents. He had some border patrol issue that he handled exceedingly well and was being rewarded. She really didn’t pay much attention to the speech until she saw it… In all its golden, jewel-encrusted glory. It was imported from the country farthest south; a country ran by women. Sounded like her kind of place. The cup was molded from the purest gold that could be found, the designs etched into it suggested that it was ancient; maybe from the times when the magician’s ruled the world and all the countries had been united in one large continent. It would’ve been thousands of years old, and that meant it would be nearly priceless and anyone of stature would pay dearly to own it. However, this righteous bastard was receiving it for solving a minor border dispute? Inconceivable!
She just had to relieve him of it and help her father with his weapons. She knew they would be worth it, even if she got caught.

The plan was to get in and out of his small home before the meeting ended. All military personnel were called into these meetings. This certain man, being out along the border, needed a place to stay within town when he traveled in. Instead of paying for a room at the inn, he just bought a small hut in town. He didn’t normally leave his chalice there, for fear, of course, that it would be taken. However, when he came into town, he didn’t want to seem as if he didn’t appreciate his generous gift, so he made sure he was seen with it. She just knew it would be there.
Finally, she heard the whistle. It was time. Her boys had kept an eye on the young general. Once he had made it into the meeting hall, they rushed into action. The roofs were the safest way to travel in this city. Particularly, to his home. It was large enough to have two stories. At the uppermost level, there was a single window. It didn’t have glass, only a thin wooden shutter. They found that it was never locked. They were sure he didn’t notice, that or he didn’t care.
One by one they entered the house, quietly so no one would know of their intrusion. Each of them searched a section of the house ‘til it was found. It was locked in a small wooden box with satin lining. They removed it carefully and looked it over awestruck debating its origins. Minutes passed. Or was it hours? They heard the door to the cozy home open with force. Someone was here, and it didn’t take them long to figure out who it could possibly be. They scattered in their startled state, trying to reach the top floor without being noticed. Ponce was closest to the window and made his way out with no trouble. Wilmer was in the room across the hall, if the general was on the stairs, he could be seen running to the window. He decided to risk it; after all, he couldn’t be identified with his back to the man. So he bolted. He made it out of the house without being noticed. Sadly, Lionheart and Percy were on the first floor with the general. Boy, were they in a pickle. Lionheart was under the table in the dining area, thankfully it had a cloth over it that reached to the floor. However, Percy had the cup and was behind the chair against the wall. It was the only thing between the general and young Percy. He was petrified. Lionheart knew her route to get out but she had to wait for the man to enter the kitchen, and who knew how long that would take. At that precise moment, a rock flew through one of the windows in the back of the house. The general cursed and went to check it out. Both of them made a run for it. Making it to the window, they came out one after the other. The four of them were reunited once again. They moved on to a different part of the city; ironically, the water service systems were where they'd come to. Anxious, Lionheart looked around for his familiar face. She found herself a bit disappointed when she saw that he wasn’t there. It had been a while since their last moments together, yet she still thought of him. What kind of person was he? Where had he come from? Why did he have his strange characteristics? Who was he? And most importantly, why did he excite her? She just couldn’t seem to accept that they would never meet again.

“So, Lionheart, what’s the theory on this one?” Percy asked.
Lionheart snapped out of her retrospection, “I’ll take it north with my father and sell it there. It should fetch us all a pretty penny, especially if it is really from the Magician’s era.” She said ignoring the tingling in her skin sparked by her memory.
“So, we’re splitting it four ways, same as always, right?” Wilmer asked.
“Of course we are, Wilmer. We wouldn’t all risk our necks for one of us to gain from it. Get your head straight!” Ponce answered.

Lionheart smiled at them, they really were helpful to her. She would pay them back somehow. Maybe give them one of the weapons her father had made for no charge. She took her leave of them and slowly made her way to the meeting hall to meet her father. The cup was tucked safely away in her leather bag. She came upon the room that her father was in and was surprised that his meeting was still going. They wouldn’t let her in so she decided that some exploring wouldn’t hurt. She climbed up the stairs to the next floor, there was nothing of any interest there, but she roamed on anyway. Considering the activity in the rooms below, there wasn’t anything moving in these rooms. It was almost as if the building was abandoned. It was so quiet, except for the sound of her feet. Wait, was that her feet? Is there an echo?
“Hello? Is anyone there?” she demanded to the quiet darkness.

There was no answer and her voice did not come back to her. She shrugged it off and turned to continue on, but she got a surprise. His lips met hers with intensity. Almost instantly, he released her and ran off taking her leather bag with him. Damn it! Not again! She ran after him, that chalice was the best she could do for now and she wasn’t about to let him get away with it. She heard his shoes hitting the steps leading further up into the hall. Darker and lonelier it became with each floor. She just ran on until she reached the double doors. This was as far as he could go.

She kicked the door open hard. They slammed against the walls behind them respectfully. He was there, in the middle of the room with his dagger exposed. She stood in the room, breathing heavy as the doors closed strongly behind her. He looked her over as if he was a wolf deciding which part of his prey he was going for first. She drew out her knives and demanded that he give her back the bag.
“My, my, my, what do we have here?” he mocked as he pulled the chalice from the bag, “haven’t I told you before about taking from others?”

Lionheart was determined to fight him off this time; he was not going to make a fool of her again. Not this time! She lunged at him forcefully with her blade aimed at his neck. He smirked at her as she ran toward him. In the blink of an eye he had her against the wall, slamming her hands hard against it until she dropped her weapons. He quickly kicked them away. The only sound that could be heard was the chalice spinning around on the floor. Lionheart was once again dismayed at her feeble and pathetic attempts to even act like she was capable of hurting him. Who did she think she was kidding? It was obvious to her that she wanted his eyes on her, his lips against hers, and his hands disregarding any personal space between them. Maybe it was her hormones; maybe this was fate. Maybe, just maybe, it was really what was meant to be.
He inhaled her scent as their noses touched; milk and honey. She raised her chin, trying to connect her mouth with his. If he planned on violating her she was going to return the favor. He kept just out of her reach even though his lips wanted hers. Slowly, he released his grip on her wrists and slid his hands down to her hips following her curves intently. He grabbed her rear and pulled her closer to him. She responded by wrapping her legs around his waist and pressing her ‘fire’ against him. He seemed pleasantly surprised, but it didn’t faze him. He just retaliated by ramming her into the wall and mashing her against his pelvis. She let out a gasp as if by accident, her face never betraying how good it really felt. He teased her with his lips gliding ever so close to hers as he gyrated against her. She wasn’t breathing heavy, she was literally panting. There were only a few small pieces of cloth separating them from one another in the most intimate areas. He noticed that she had on the same style of dress as their last meeting, only this one was red; a good color on her. Her thighs were bare and the smooth almond skin of her legs felt so good in his hand. He finally gave in and kissed her. Hard. She responded with the same amount of force. He was pleased. She felt the firm lump in his leggings and prayed that she could keep his attention a little longer.
He slipped his hand up her dress, a little shocked to find that she didn’t have on panties. He drew away from her mouth with a look of disbelief. She bit her lip in a seductive smile. He exhaled quickly and resumed kissing her as his hand wondered over her coarse hairs. She was growing anxious for his next move. Now, was the time for him to make his move.
He drew away from her once again and stared into her eyes. His arrogant smile grew every second. She bucked her hips against him, but he released his hold on her. She fell to the floor and hit hard.

“Sorry, babe, not this time.” He smugly mocked her.

He bent down and picked up the chalice. She rose and charged at him. He jumped up into the window seal and fell. Just fell. Right out the window. Lionheart was alarmed. She looked out, but he was nowhere to be found, not one sign of him. There was no way he could reach the roof tiles; it was up too high for anyone to reach, probably to keep out intruders from the roof. There was no other object around for him to jump to or land on. She was stumped, and pissed; he had gotten away with her chalice. Now, what was she going to do?