#kenneth lally

[maybellinemagic]

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-eight: 5} arthur bridges.

After he had struggled for hours, after he had nearly driven a dagger into his best friend's hearts, after everything -- it had not mattered fucking at all. His father was already dead. They had failed. He hadn't gotten to him in time. He had been dead two hours - God forgive him, two hours ago he had been laughing, drinking with those who had become his family. It was to steel themselves for the afternoon! He'd shouted it merrily at Mitchell's disapproving eye-roll as they saw the drink. What was he supposed to do? He had never given a thought to the treachery of the Sheriff -- fucking stupid of them, he thought. The man was mad. 

White, blinding, rushing, crushing, gushing rage poured through, into every crevice of his flushed skin, ever nerve of his being, every blood vessel until one popped above his eye. Fist flying, he heard the ringing of swords drawn and crossed, felt his limps struggling to break out of his friends hold, but could not rationalize it. There was nothing but the embrace of cardinal desire, a need for blood. Hungry to sate his need for vengeance, he was glad that Mitchell was speaking -- glad to hear the angry, loud shout of his honorary brother's voice -- for he had no words. He had nothing. Blank, he marveled that an a void could ache, at how heavy the absence of emotion could be, at how oppressive and crippling wrath was. 

The first clear thought was for his sister. "Karyn." He said it hoarsely, bile in his throat. The girl was his only family left in the world, and he had not seen her in weeks. No one knew where she was, but oh his friends promised him - everyone promised him - it had to mean she was fine. He would not rest until he found her, he knew that now, could not sleep until he had her in his arms and locked her away from the world. The need was so great to see her, to reassure her - and himself, that they were not alone - that it was as blinding as his rage had been. He noticed he couldn't see. Tears were falling down his cheeks furiously quick - as if his tear ducts were infected by rabbits that hopped away from them on the dirt ground. 

Only then did he notice how far from the square he already was, that the crowd had blocked most of the guards from pursuing them. Sonja had her arm around him, and he was leaning on Kenneth's shoulder -- fuck, was he bleeding? Tip of his tongue flicking out, sure enough he tasted blood. He licked again on a sick impulse, craving the reality of what he knew his heart wanted. It wasn't enough. He wanted the Sheriff's blood. He wanted all of their blood. He wanted them dead, and fuck what was right. 

Sonja lifted her hand to rub blood from his lip and murmured a quiet prayer in whatever language it was she spoke - Hebrew, Arabic, something like that - before one English, frankly ordering him not to punch another guard. That explained the blood on his knuckles too. Ken, Sonja and Hector -- there was no Mitchell, he realized, heart aching again. No, no -- no after all of that, all of this, they did not get to fucking take his brother too. In fact they were not going to take anyone ever again. They were fools to make him this angry, he thought in ill humor, they clearly had death wishes.  He heard Hector's hammer smash against armor distantly. Then all was tears, a loud pop as they vanished, rushing wind, and despair.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-five: 1} outlaw babies, leah

Arthur: Don't need to tell me twice. *He laughed, rubbing his chest hard and windpipe hard before it became another cough. Then he turned on his heel, disapparating in an instant - and for a moment it was bliss, not to feel or think or be. The world squeezed itself back into existence too soon...and revealed Leah. Sitting on a stump, juggling her knife and clearly about to throw it. No, had thrown it. He jumped, eyes going wide.* Leahr: Arthur! *Her knife embedded deeply in the target, wiggling on it's point and jabbering it's entry her shock gave way to delight at his expression. Yes, all right, that may have gone near his nose. How was she to know he would apparate there? In two seconds she had crossed the distance, yanked her knife free and wrapped him in a hug.* Arthur: Leah! Why am I not surprised? *Though his laugh was quiet from laugh of breath and his 'bloody hell' genuine, he couldn't help utter relief crossing his expression. Her quick 'sorry' later as she pulled back, rubbing his arm and kissing his cheek anyway in penance for holding on to him so tightly - Hector was right, women - Arthur grinned at her, sheepish.* Lysa? Leahr: *She chuckled, nodding but still raised her hand to point at him, even as the others popped into existence around her,* Hey, she wanted to do it anyway. Arthur: Right. *He laughed and kissed her cheek too, good natured. Then he turned to Sonja as she appeared, holding both hands up as he said lightly,* Do your worst. Sonja: *She drops Kenneth's hand, then purses her lips at him.* Oh- Arthur: Nuhhuh. I think you used your oh-arthurs up. Sonja: *She wiggled an eyebrow at him, filled with affection and gestured with her head to a low bunched cloth she had been using as a pillow. He needed to sit on something soft.* Leahr: *Immediately had rounded on Mitchell, and wrapped her arms around him tightly, relieved he had told her where to come beforehand, relieved it had worked. Well, almost. If she hadn't been so relieved she would have boxed his ears, but she only shut her eyes, nestled under his chin and breathed in, and out. When she pulled back she gripped his cheeks and said pointedly,* You, are unbelievable. *She kissed him once.* Did you truly hold a dagger to the bastard's neck and hit him with a candle? Arthur: *Hearing that, even as Sonja tends to one hand, he sticks both fingers into his lips and whistles his approval, loud.* Sonja: *She chuckled, eyes back on Mitchell as she asked curious now,* How did you get the sheriff to sign? Kenneth: *Glancing at Sonja with a smile, he took her hand before they apparated on the spot back to their camp, startled a little to see Leah already there but then again, he wasn't entirely surprised either. Nodding briefly, he let go of Sonja's hand so she could attend to Arthur, he ran a hand through his hair, his own hair thank goodness, before piping up* I'll get you that pint you asked for, mate. Mitchell: *apparating, his smile of relief at having Arthur back only widened as he saw Leah waiting there. He wrapped his arms around her tightly, glad that Arthur had reminded him about the fake bruises on his face, otherwise he would have had to deal with an entirely different welcome. Grinning sheepishly at her pointed remark, he shrugged before he kissed her back, though it was far too short for his liking. Smirk reappearing again, he corrected* It was a candlestick, y'know the fancy metal things? Hector: *He laughed out loudly at that, clapping his hands in appreciation. He might not have gotten to hit anybody, but he was sure glad that his uncle Mitch had been able to. The Sheriff bloody well deserved that and more in his opinion. He rested his head against a tree trunk after sliding down.* Brilliant. Mitchell: *he chuckled before shrugging and answering back simply, if not a bit dryly* Pillow talk. Arthur: *He had nodded grateful to Kenneth, nonchalant as Mitchell and Leah embraced (what else was new?), but he blinked hearing that. His lips flicked amused.* You've been in bed with the sheriff? Leahr: *Smirk appearing on her own lips as she was corrected, she shook her head at him, eyes wide.* M'love? Something you're not telling me? Arthur: *His ears perked up at that: m'love? When had they started admitting it then? He chuckled under his breath - then gasped in pain, distracted by Sonja.* Bloody hell- Sonja: Sorry. *It was small, but unrepentant. The wounds had to be cleaned, they could not be allowed to fester. She was relieved the realize she had been right: someone had been treating him, or there would have been a lot more work to do. Even as she moved her hands over the bruises, rubbing salves and muttering a spell, she kept her eyes on his.* Leahr: *She looked at Arthur a moment with a determined smile - to say he looked bad was an understatement. But she was confused, hesitant to mention his father, wondering why it was he'd have left without him -- had they not told Arthur they had his father? Her brows furrowed. Did she have to tell him then? Heart pounding, dreading the thought of killing his mood, she looked back at Mitchell, deciding she'd wait until Arthur was healed - as healed as he was going to be - and would focus on Mitchell. After the briefest wave to Hector and Ken as well (she grinned, seeing that Kenneth and Sonja were orbiting around each other), her eyes stayed on Mitch.* Well, I think you gave him a concussion. *Another sweet, short, kiss.* ...And I need to talk to you. Mitchell: Something like that *he mused, hiding the disgust and annoyance there had been for having been so close to the sheriff and been able to do nearly nothing except hit him in the back of his head and exchange a few veiled threats.* Nothing to worry about, I assure you. Hector: It's that Stone charm again, eh? *He chuckled before closing his eyes, glad to simply do that, to exhale and breathe in deeply and relax for a moment. Sure, they were still hunted criminals and outlaws, still had to keep watch and worry about being stabbed in the middle of the night...bloody hell, he had totally lost his point.* Kenneth: *Returning back to Arthur with a pint from their stores (they didn't sell everything after all, not what they could use themselves), he handed it to him after hearing him wince in pain and then stayed close, not enough to get in the middle of the healing, but close nonetheless, waving to Leah with amusement, used to the dismissive polite gesture that meant she wanted to spend time alone with Mitch, he didn't blame her.* Mitchell: Good. *A concussion is the least of what that bastard deserved. His eyes flicked to Arthur for a moment in concern before looking back at Leah as she leaned in for another kiss.* Alright, *he grabbed a hand on his cheek and laced his fingers with hers, nodding silently to the gents that they would be going for a walk. Squeezing her hand, wary of what she had to say because it was seldom good news when it was delivered this way, he turned to her after they were well away from the camp.* What is it? Arthur: *As he watched them walk off, his jawline hardened very slightly. He realized: Leah had to know they had his father, and a shot of guilt trailed up his spine. Or- no, that was pain. Perhaps both. Hissing, he put it from his mind thinking hard: the bastard had said noon the second day. He had a day to decide what he would do - as he knew, in his gut, he could never harm a hair on Mitchell's head - and so instead he just took the pint.* Thanks, mate. *He gritted his teeth, but after a swig, found himself amused once more. Sonja was taking his shirt off.* Sweetheart?  *Ah! He gasped, as she pressed harder into the bruise in retaliation.* Sonja: I said I would. *She chuckled under her breath, but remained focused on her task. Raising his arms, she swiftly wrapped cloth around his ribs, eyes narrowed in determination to avoid judgment as she took in the marks, scarlet, maroon, scarred black -- one or two still slowly dribbling blood. Anger in her heart, she shifted closer to Ken as she finished, tying the cloth bandages off. So intent she was, she didn't notice Leah and Mitch leaving. She breathed out in relief, and then put her hand down, reaching to take Ken's again, breathing out.* Allah be praised. Arthur: Oooh, isn't elevating yourself like that haren or something like that? *He took another swig. tilted his head, noticing Hector was going to sleep. Sleep..oh that sounded like a marvelous idea.* Sonja: *amused, she squeezed Ken's hand tighter saying briskly,* Harem? I was thanking him for guiding my hands, and for your health. Arthur: M' health. *That sounded like a joke to him: every muscle ached, every bone felt like it was in the wrong place. He snorted, looking down at the joined hands, unable to help,* So how long has this been going on? *He wiggled an eyebrow over another swig.* Kenneth: Don't push your luck, mate. *He chuckled, though it turned rather forced as his eyes raked over the multiple marks, scars, bruises, and burns as Arthur's shirt was taken off. He pursed his lips again, wondering dimly if there had been a way they could have gotten him out of there sooner, or stopped him from getting taken in the first place.* Next time, I'm standing watch, alright? *He took Sonja's hand and squeezed it, as much offering comfort as he was taking it too. Looking up at the question, he smiled sheepishly, answering simply* A few days. Hector: *murmurs* Been snogging when they thinks nobody lookin' *he snorts, his eyes still closed as he moved around, trying to get more comfortable around his usual spot, .* Kenneth: *ignoring the pink in his cheeks, he rolled his eyes and then asked pointedly* Isn't it past your bedtime already, Hector? Hector: *gives him the finger, his eyes still closed* Sonja: *Leaning back and reaching for water, breathing hard from the effort it seemed to take to focus - all they had just done seemed oddly dim in her mind, as though she had invented it and couldn't remember half the stories. Instead she focused on the slight flush creeping up Kenneth's neck. Lord, she loved englishmen. Grinning and squeezing his hand back, she says simply,* So nosy, Hector. Arthur: *He chuckles, nodding - eyes flitting between the two of them, seeing how they smiled at one another. Yet more coupling off then, well, it wasn't like that wasn't expected. Downing the rest of the pint - good old october ale, about damn time - he tipped his head back and then eyed the space he had been sleeping before. Had it truly only been four days? It felt like a lifetime. Quieting, mind flitting back to Annemarie a moment, he said softer,* Sleep does sound good. *Except it would bring the day faster, and he didn't really want that day to come. But he lifted a smirk to his lips, looking back at Sonja - nodding his gratitude for her spells, salves, poking, prodding - and Ken.* Leave you two lovebirds alone.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-four: 8} outlaw babies

Mitchell: *Sneaking into his room, Mitchell almost snorted as seeing the Sheriff asleep and snoring under silk covers in a canopy bed. Sometimes, the world really was too cruel. Locking the door and taking off his spell, he reached for the dagger hidden in his boot as he walked nearer to the bed. Cutting off a snore, he put his hand over the Sheriff's mouth, and pressed the dagger to his neck. Not the most pleasant of wake up calls, but he could have been far worse.* Hush little sheriff, don't say a word or Mitchell's gonna make sure you never get heard. Benedict: Mph. *The eloquence of his response into a cupped hand was only matched by the jerk in his neck, eyes going wide as he felt metal. Cold, harsh and pricking into his skin. Eyes snapping open, every muscle seized as he realized who it was. Fucki--could his guards do nothing right? They were utterly useless, as apparently, were all of those spells Damocles boasted off. Yet his face contorted with sudden smarm, lifting his hands up into the silk sheets and nodding, nose squishing itself against Stone's palm. Gross. The man stank. Still he smiled, muttering as the hand was half removed, breathy,* Stone, I wasn't expecting you or I'd have put on a pot of tea. *His eyes narrow a tiny bit.* What are you doing here? *He just had to find a way to send an alarm, that was all, not hard.* Mitchell: *He was slow removing the hand, but not the dagger. Even if he could be quick enough to cast a spell, far quicker than the sheriff, he still wanted the leverage there, the pointed and sharp reminder.* Not a big fan of tea, I'm afraid. *His eyes narrowed in revulsion, tilting his head before shrugging* Just fancied a chat, really. How are you doing? Feeling pretty good, yeh? How wonderful *he dug the dagger just the tiniest bit more, his next words clearly sarcastic, laced with restrained rage* I'm sure you've been such a hospitable host to my friend, sheriff. One day I will be sure to return the favor. *he flicked a feather off the sheriff's head as he loosened the dagger, commenting in a forcibly lighter tone.* However, I shall be wanting him back. Benedict: *His nose wrinkled at the remark and then hitched as a feather brushed across it. He was going to sneeze, bloody, and he'd still dig straight into the dagger if he did.* Oh - oh yes, he's been having a grand time. *His eyes narrowed, holding his gaze on to the cold eyes above him. Merlin, the man was a murderer he reminded himself - shoulders tensing. Still he spoke equally sarcastic, and light,* Arthur's gotten to .. shall we say, play with many different toys here. Hasn't just been my guest of course, - *but he was forced to silence by the dagger, and he held his hand higher, eyes wide and blinking rapidly. His voice turned hard and cruel.* Want all you want. You can't take him, Stone. There are a hundred men who would kill you the moment you step out this door. You're a highly anticipated guest, you see. Mitchell: *It was a tribute to his restraint, to his morality that appeared nonexistent to almost all who lived in this court, that he didn't simply just slit the Sheriff's throat right then and there. But unfortunately, he was the better man (it was a mantra by now, it honestly was) and he needed the sheriff alive. He smirked with no amusement before he spoke again.* I've been dodging knights and guards at this court since I was nine years old, Sheriff, have a little more faith. I'm here aren't I? And *he tilted his head as if to strain his ear to listen for a noise* I don't hear that anyone's sounded the alarm. So, yes, I will take Arthur back and you're going to help me. *he used his free hand to grab the piece of parchment out of the inside of his shirt and waved it in front of the Sheriff's face* How good is your penmanship? Benedict: ..yes, you are here. *Why was that, again? His smirk turned a scowl only a moment, thinking through exactly what he would do to the person responsible for it -- when he was distracted by the thought. Nine years old?* Nine? *Though his gaze darted to the parchment waving in his face like a flag, he was not deterred. How could he have possibly been at the court at nine? His eyes narrowed.* My, what a precious age to begin such criminal acts. *His tight swallow brushed the dagger, reminding him that for the moment at least, he was stuck. Still he couldn't help it.* It's almost as though you were born with the inclination. *And who exactly had he been seeing at nine anyway? Looking at the parchment, his face hardened and he exhaled heavily, snapping,* What is that? Mitchell: Impressive, I know. *he shrugged before his eyes narrowed, asking dryly* I only wonder at what age you began to do your own deeds, sheriff. Drowned a puppy by age ten? Tortured your first man on your 15th birthday? Wouldn't surprise me. *He unrolled the parchment with a flick of his wrist and said out loud (not needing to read it for he had wrote it and not willing to take his eyes off the man) "I, Lord Benedict Ricard, Councillor of Defense, styled "sheriff" do hereby order the temporary transfer of the prisoner, Arthur Bridges, from the court's prison to my own holding facilities off-site, with the intent of further questioning on this the sixth day of May in the year of our Lord, Nineteen Oh Four." yadda yadda yadda, you get the point. Aren't I a wonderful forger? See, -my- penmanship, is without flaw. *he dropped the piece of parchment on top of the Sheriff's chest* I just need your signature, the seal on your ring, and I'll leave you to your dreams. By chance, do you dream of me, Sheriff? After all these months of trying to capture me to no avail *he hissed in feign concern and sympathy* So frustrating, isn't it? Benedict: *His frown only deepened with every word out of the mudblood's mouth, Stone's arrogance making him bristle. Did this man think he would succumb that easily, even with a dagger to his throat? Irritated by the truth of his statement - it was frustrating, unbelievably - he muttered through clenched teeth,* Ah, and see here you have delivered yourself to me instead. My father did always advocate patience. *His father had been a fool, a coward but in this matter he seemed apparently right. He glanced at the desk across the room, through the billowing canopy,* Ink and the ring is over there. You'll have to let me up first. *His lips quirked up, head tilting.* Much as I am flattered by your attending my bed, Stone, afraid I am not - uh - keen, on such an inclination. *He was breathing heavier now, the dagger making each inhale and exhale shallow.* Mitchell: Oh Sheriff, you tease. Are you quite sure? *he leaned in closer with a grin on his face, just to make the man uncomfortable before pulling back, loosening the pressure of the blade against his neck.* Please, allow me. *He casted a non-verbal immobulus once the Sheriff had sat up, before he could try anything.* It's not that I don't trust you, Sheriff- no, wait, that's exactly it. I would say not a shout, but you probably have wards up to make sure people don't listen in on private conversations, mmh? *He levitated the man across the room, pulled out the chair for him and everything before lowering him down on it, dagger at his neck again before he lifted the spell, placing the parchment in front of him.* Sign. Benedict: *Disgust colored his face, squirming as the man leaned closer and closer, gut twisted. At least he then pulled back excep--* Ah! *He was being lifted in the air, a hand coming up. He had been leaning for his wand, which clearly the bastard had known. And apparently he was aware of the wards on the room. Smashed into the chair, the silk pajamas fluttering around his ankles, he narrowed his eyes at him, well aware the bruises forming on the back of his legs and elbow now were purposefully. As the spell lifted, he smirked up at him with nothing but cold hatred in his eyes.* You know you're only adding to your list of crimes, Stone. *He picked up the quill, inking it slowly.* You'll never win. *signing slowly, he lifted his other hand slowly, wiggling his fingers to cast a spell to open the door; his cat was already itching to go out, and for a moment he was glad his children had been so insistent they have pets.* Mitchell: At least this crime I actually committed. Gladly, I might add, if it gets my best mate out of your slimy hands. *He pressed the dagger again, not hard, just enough to draw a little bit of blood he spat out.* I haven't got all night. *He snapped his fingers to make the wax drip over the paper, grabbing the ring himself and stamping the seal into the liquid, waiting for it to dry.* That's where you're wrong, Sheriff. Haven't you read the stories? The good guys win at the end. *He looked at the ring with interest before biting the edge* Oh, real gold? Yes, this will do nicely. Think of it as an early birthday present to me, sheriff. *His eyes narrowed again, clicking his tongue.* Tick, tock, tick, tock. Benedict: *Blood dribbling down his neck, splattering red on the black silk his back seized, straightening to edge away from it. The simple hilt -- he narrowed his eyes at it, realizing he recognized the work. It didn't surprise him the animal had stolen a dagger from their blacksmith, but he gritted his teeth refusing to say anything back to him about it, refusing to comment on the blood. Brute. His breath was even as he dropped the signed parchment. Instead he said simply, eyes tracing the tail of his cat as it sipped out the door. He wanted to keep that ring, but at least the alarm would be set. Now he only grinned.*  There's a reason they're called fairytales, Stone. *He tilted his head up to him, grinning like a mad man,* In life the monsters win. Mitchell: Not in my life. *he smirked now out of pure stubbornness, not wanting to let the man get the satisfaction. He rolled up the parchment and stuffed it back inside his shirt.* And so glad we agree on what you are, Sheriff. But even monsters get scared. And me? I'm your worst nightmare. *He swung the candlestick he had gripped across the back of the Sheriff's head, not feeling particularly generous enough to simply stun the man. Smirking in satisfaction as the man's head hit the table, he whispered* Sweet dreams. *turning around, he cursed as he saw the door already open, but he had no time to worry now, if anything it was even more of a reason to hurry. Putting on the disillusionment charm again, he got out of there as quickly as he dared, and headed towards the dungeons, hoping the gang had made their way to it as well.* Arthur: *And all you have to do...* Is betray everything I ever believed in or held dear. *Accenting his words with his chain knocking the back of the man's head, he ripped his arm back and held his hand over the clasp. He hissed, screwing his eyes up and looked skywards, tears pearling in the corners of his eyes before edging. The loud clank let him know the cuff hit the stone near the guards head. Damn shame. Should have hit the bastards head. Well, all right, perhaps it wasn't really his fault, perhaps it was the Sheriffs and truly that little fucker Tyrelion. The man who had come to him - that disgusting little whisper in his ear - and told him...* Dad. *He hurried across the floor, ripping free a shirt and over his head. Hurrying to the opposing cells, he had a hand wrapped around the bars before he hissed again and fell back. His father stirred on the other side as he examined his hands. Scarlet, blood was dripping down his wrist. He watched them dazed, kneeling on the stone and laughing a moment. Of course he couldn't get it free: whatever spell was on that bleeding door was an invention of the-great-Lord-Faye hisself, how could such a lowly muggleborn do it? Oh no wait though, he was an ally, forgot for a moment. He looked at his dad's back, kneeling as he watched him sleep and saying quietly,* I promise I'm gonna get you out of this, Dad. And I'm gonna find Karyn. *Tears were in his eyes, but he reached down his shirt to find the flask, pushing it across the floor to him. At the metal scraping, he heard his father stir and startled himself, eyes dazed: he knew he didn't have much time.* Dad?! *He scrambled forward again, as his father lifted his head and then waved him off. Daniel pushed to kneel in front of him, muttering 'son' and his hand slipped through the bars too. Grateful an instant that whatever the magical bond was, it didn't mean his hand couldn't grasp his fathers, he held tightly nodding. Daniel murmured he was proud, then entreated him to go - go, son - and for an instant he didn't want to, muscles seized with anger, hatred in his heart for the look his father was forced to wear. But he stiffened his lip. He wouldn't let his father seem him that way, and he stood. Fingers sweaty and bloody slipped free only after he clenched his hand in the grasp, and he only stilled when he realized his dad had added he loved him. Shock colored his gaze as he looked down. Damn it - how was he not supposed to tear back up at that?* I know, Pop. *It was quick, gruff and with a small smirk he echoed the sentiment. Then he pulled his hand free, because he had to get out of there. He was across the way and through the door when he nearly collided with Mitchell. Genuine delight lifted his smirk now, lifted under a black eye, sweat dripping off his forehead.* Mitch! *He yanked him into a hug, slapping his hand on his upper back. In that instant, emotion clouded his expression and voice, as he screwed his eyes up, muttering,* 'ts good to see you, mate. *Mitchell was right there. But only he nodded, sick for the thought even existing, even crossing his mind. He couldn't -- he wouldn't. By the time he had released him, the smirk was back, adding in a light-hearted tease only weighted by his bruises, blood and gruff lack of voice,* Thought you migh' not be coming, mate. Had to get m'self out. *He gestured at the guard on the floor, what had been his chain near his head. Shrugging his shoulder, he added lighter,*  Not lack of trust in yer--course not, just I haveta say, they have some terrible liquor here. Mitchell: *Wherever Kenneth, Sonja, and Hector were, Mitchell didn't see them as he made his way to the dungeons. Were all of his plans doomed to fail? He couldn't wait for them right then, though. Sneaking up on the knights keeping guard in front of the dungeon, he knocked them out and searched for the key. So much for walking out of the court smoothly, with no guards on their asses. Taking off the disillusionment, he opened the door and was about to step through it when he saw Arthur about to almost run him over.* Arthur! Mate- *he gripped him tight in the brief hug, letting out an exhale of relief for the worry he had spent days trying to bury. He pulled back and his jaw tightened again seeing the bruises and scratches and God, he didn't want to think about what else his friend had gone through.* Are ye of so little faith? We weren't going to leave you behind, mate. *He chuckled and shook his head incredulously, and almost hugged Arthur again, almost.* We'll open up a bottle as soon as we get to camp, you'll need it for when Sonja attacks you with healing spells. We need to get out of here first. The -plan- was to escort you out of here and no one would be the wiser, but er...whoops. Arthur: Ah righ', yeah. Good job. *It was conversational, teasing as he shut the door shut. The click made his stomach drop out, knowing he was leaving his father down there. Eying the door as his hand lingered on the handle a moment, his bottom lip twisted. He could tell Mitchell now, and he almost did -- almost, except, if there was a way they could get Dad out of that magic cell he'd have done it himself. Well, another way. There was one...but he couldn't be considering that, he just couldn't - his friend was here for Christ's sakes to get him out! Actually, look at the state of him. He blinked seeing his friends appearance, realizing he wasn't the only one of them who was banged up pretty badly and arched an eyebrow.* Leah give you those bruises, mate? *Both eyebrows wiggled, smirking as he jerks his thumb over his shoulder, breathing out in relief.* Excellent, mate. *The healing spells were what he truly needed, he'd had enough smuggled liquor, so much he knew he was still partially feeling it's effects. Or perhaps that was the pain. The most recent brand on his side was on fire like a mother--* Mitch, wutch it! *Three guards were hurrying down and oh - he recognized on of them, that Gretta was a right piece of work. He momentarily thought of how Lucille had been the one to kick her out, but shook his head rapidly raising a hand. It felt good to use magic, even if he was terrified how weak it felt.* Sonja: Woah - Arthur! *Jerking to the side with her hand darting to Kenneth's arm, not realizing he'd done the same, that they'd both moved each other out of the way, she exclaimed amused.* So unpleased to see us? *Oh, Lord. To see the state of him, the tattered trousers fluttering over boots that lacked socks were the least of it. The purple tint of bruises cluttered up the (normally handsome, Arthur would want her to say that) face, thin streaks of blood on his wrist that painted the floor and shirt, which untucked was enough to reveal a mess of bruises there as well, and something burning red. She scowled, thinking through what spells she could do, what potions she might be able to find -- she could tell someone had been doing something, there were faded marks and cuts newly healed that she could see -- but it was already clearly a bare minimum. She bit her lip.* Arthur: *His brow furrowed - but an instant he had the answer.* Sonja! Sorry luv. *He winked, then looked at the other two critically.* All right so slow and witless -- *he snapped his fingers looking at Franklin,* -- must be Hector! *He was smirking, hating the twist in his gut seeing the pity on -- well, what would be his friends faces. So he smiled, and laughed under his breath.* And Ken! *He clapped his hands together, rubbing the palms furiously,* Hate to cut your indignation short but, think we could have the reunion party over a pint at the fire? Mitchell: *Honestly, he still had time to go right back up to the Sheriff's chambers and inflict every injury that Arthur had suffered at the hands of these vile vermins (except vermin, especially rat, was too honorable a word for these people.) With any luck though, the Sheriff now had a candlestick shaped dent on the back of his head. Pulled from his thoughts, his brows furrowed in confusion before he realized that he had yet to take off the glamours.* No. She'll give me matching ones if she sees me with these, I reckon. *He passed a hand over his face, wiping it clean. If only it were that easy to heal Arthur's. Turning around suddenly at Arthur's warning and hearing the steps, he prepared himself before realizing who it was that was coming down.* Arthur, wait! Kenneth: Wutch it! *he moved Sonja out of the way only to realize with a small smile that they'd both done it. Looking forward again, he grinned in relief, so glad to see his friend alive, standing, even if he did look like hell.* It's good to see you mate. Hector: Bloody hell, you look like shit. *He could practically feel the glares for the rest of the gang boring holes in his face, but he ignored that. He smirked a moment at how easy it was for Arthur to realize who was who.* Good idea, I'm not sure how long we have left on these potions. Mitchell: So let's get moving. *he took the parchment out of his shirt and handed it to Sonja.* In case we get stopped, I got the signature and seal. I'll follow quietly, disillusioned and we should, -should- be able to just walk out of the front door. Kenneth: *he took the fake cuffs off Mitchell's wrists before heading to Arthur* Sorry, mate, just for a little bit. You're a transferring prisoner after all. *he put the handcuffs on, and waved his hand over them, mumbling a spell to add the dummy chain between the two cuffs* Tug on them hard and they'll give away. Hector: Let's go then, and good riddance to this hell hole. Arthur: *He smirked, breathing hard,* Yeah, and you look like a troll. *Accurate, actually. Franklin's family probably was part troll. He wouldn't be surprised. Then both eyes spread wide seeing the bruises disappear on Mitchell's face, about to mutter Leah would give him the real thing when he was distracted by the unpleasantly familiar clank of metal.* Woah, mate, wait-- *As Kenneth approached him, he held both hands up, bringing his bottom lip into his mouth to suck on the swollen flesh hard. The maroon tracks from the dying drip of blood off his wrists waved. He wasn't keen to put another chain on them.* Sonja: Thank you. *Taking the parchment from Mitchell, she narrowed the woman's blue eyes at him critically. She wanted to ask how. She imagined they all did: how had he possibly escaped the three actual guards, one of whom was a knight, to get the parchment signed? Was the sheriff alive? But these questions would take time, so she cleared her throat and swiveled, murmuring in a kind voice she had a feeling Gretta had never used,* Oh Arthur... Arthur: Nuthing, mate. *He dropped his sleeves to cover them quickly.* Sonja: Come here. *Her voice strict, she had her hands over his wrists in an instant, grip firm. The pad of her thumb dug into the maroon waste, making him 'ah' in pain before sighing in relief as the muttered spell took hold. It wasn't fixing any damage, just numbing the pain - she couldn't do more here, and there was no time. Her nod to Kenneth was brisk.* Arthur: Thanks, doll. *Blissful relief alight in his eyes, a genuine lightheartedness back in his tone - for a moment he forgot what had happened, and what he was told to do. It came back as the fake chains clicked on his wrists, cold and numb. But he said nothing, just looked at Hector and nodded with a grin,* Couldn'ta put it better me self. *They walked briskly down the corridor, passing two serving girls who hurriedly broke eye contact to move by at speed. They came across one guard who looked them over slowly, glaring at the little parchment as Sonja presented it, but he didn't question it. Idiot. Well, all right, Sheriff's own hand and all - how had Mitchell gotten that?- and he probably wouldn't want to risk his displeasure. Never mind the fact he clearly was. Mitch was smug beside him in the fake chains as they were ordered to move on, even with his eyes down. Arthur rolled his eyes.* Sonja: *A cat brushed by her leg, nudging with her tail. Sonja just stared at the creature, having the odd feeling it knew she wasn't who she appeared to be by the gaze, but she shook it off. Arthur appeared to be aiming a kick at the cat, and she pulled on his arm. Hairs prickling on the back of her neck as they walked swiftly, the moonlight lighting their path on the stone through the open windows, a breeze tickling her face. It made her stomach twist with apprehension. It wasn't that far to go, when the sounds of an approach made it clear there were a lot more than just one serving girl. Her pounding heart leaped into her throat, eyes widening - preparing to put Gretta's authoritarian voice back on and extending the parchment, when she realized...Franklin had blond hair, not dirty brunette.* Oh no. *When she spun she realized Gretta's long blond hair didn't spin with her. Her hand flew to her head, patting through her short brunette stubble just as a short man with bloody silk pajamas rounded the corner. He was attended to by the same guards as before, their expressions disgruntled and mean.* Guards! *It was a sharp, loud cry. And even Sonja drew her half-sword, she broke into a run.* Kenneth: *If there was any other way, Kenneth would have chosen that instead of having to put the shackles on his friend. One glimpse at his wrists was enough to turn his previous worry into murderous rage, and he only muttered another sorry as he put them on before setting out. Glancing at Mitchell, hoping for the love of God he hadn't done anything stupid, he moved to his side, Hector taking the opposite and started walking.* Hector: *He was glad to be moving again, hoping that they would meet minimal opposition on their way out. Even if he half wished he could spot Sof, as he hadn't seen her in a few days, he knew it would be best not to. Besides, he didn't want to give her the impression that this mongrel was leering at her. He sneezed suddenly, shaking his head and then glaring as he saw a cat. Bloody hell, was this moron allergic to cats too? As if the itching bollocks weren't bad enough. Actually, now that he was focused on it, he was itching significantly less. Looking up, his face blanched as he saw Sonja's hair turn from the blonde of Gretta to the black and short crop that was her normal appearance.* Bugger. Mitchell: *Shit! Time for plan E-* Run! *He should have hidden the bow on his person somehow, now he only felt naked without it. Snapping his wrists away, he broke the chain easily enough and started running down the hall, dodging spells aimed at their heads and looking over his shoulder to shout a couple of stunning spells at them.* Kenneth: *He skidded to a halt with the others as they saw guards approaching them from the opposite end of the hall. Thinking quickly, he raised his hand and spelled the floor in front of the guards to turn slick with oil.* Hector: *Oh it felt good to be himself again, but it didn't feel good to wear armor that was too big for him that weighed him down. A wave vanished the armor. Smirking as he saw the majority of guards slip and sliding, he knew they couldn't linger long. He turned and started running down a side corridor, eyes flicking to Arthur to see how he was managing* Mitchell: *If the alarm had been raised, there would be guards on every entrance. So unless they could fly out of there or dig a tunnel- wait. He looked around, depending on memory and then motioned* Follow me! *He just had to find the right tapestry, and hope the hole was bigger than he remembered. Skidding to a stop again as he exhaled in relief as he reached it, he grabbed on to the frame to slow him to a stop and then pushed the tapestry up, revealing the hole in the wall. Thank you, Leah.* It's gonna be a tight fit but it'll do. Climb up, follow the passage, take two rights and a left and it leads to the training grounds, right near the edge of the forest. Arthur, go up first. Arthur: *Gulping as he saw them, his face seemed to light up, come alive at the prospect they had to run. Only, first things first. Eyes fixed on the balding-sheriff (silk pajamas, how quaint, how much that figured) he lifted his hands and made a show of how heavy these fake chains were. Groaning as if under weight and moaning, he grit his teeth in a maniacal, animal of a glare and then -- rip. The chains snapped of his wrists, falling to the ground. Eyebrows wiggling, he saluted the sheriff, ducked a spell, and took off. Careening through the hallways, blinking as his friends reappeared, clothes changing and shifting he breathed out in relief. It was easier to see their faces. Ducking again as a spell flew over head, his hand raced through his own unruly mop of hair, gaze stuck on Mitchell's back. If he was caught... He felt sick an instant later - actually it was a usual feeling in this damn place - and he only spun to follow the yell, just as it asked. Mitchell was his best mate, he thought, there to risk his life for his - just as all of them were. He came to a stop at the tapestry, unable to help himself,* Not really the time to look at art - nice piece, but - *Oh. There was a way out. He blinked up at it, looking at Mitchell sideways.* Sonja: Leah. *It was a guess, but she figured a shrewd one as she halted her brisk run with heavy breath to stare at their tiny exit hole. Her own armor was gone as well. Gretta was much more gifted in one are than she. Relieved to be herself, she nodded in agreement -- Arthur had to get out first, and spun to hold her hand up to cover him.* Arthur: Ah, right. *It figured. Hoisting himself up, he grit his teeth in expectation of pain, of weight on his arms only to feel none. Blood singing through his veins and head light, the adrenaline rush was a bliss better than Sonja's spell. He was through it quickly, dropping into a crawl space he couldn't figure the purpose for, but only followed Mitchell's instructions.* Sonja: *As soon as Arthur was through, she nodded to Hector, then went through herself. Mitchell was the best fighter of them, she knew, just as she knew he would never put a friend behind him. The comfort did not erase her worry for him as she crawled (nor did she appreciate the view, Arthur wasn't that far ahead of her), but Ken behind her did. When she heard the swish of the tapestry closing, she spun and craned her neck, breathing hard in sudden relief, hearing their assailants run right by. The trek was long and dark, illuminated by a few waves of their hands only. Her knees were aching, the hard stone beneath them deepening bruises she knew would hurt worse later, a stone cutting her hand. But Arthur was out. They were almost there, just a little farther... When she saw moonlight - followed by Arthur hopping up and pulling himself out, she breathed a sigh of relief, even at the quiet. The moon was high in the sky when they pulled out, instantly darting to hide behind a building and breathing harsh. Whatever alarm had gone off, they weren't here yet - did not expect them to be this far, she assumed. She didn't stop running until they were in the trees, brushing dirt from her palm and shaking her head to expel sweat and anxiety in one swish.* Arthur: *Bugger it, really, he had a way out, he'd think of the rest later. When they came to a rest, he leaned his head back against the tree, looked up at the inky sky and thanked Alysa, Leah, and God, prayed for Karyn, praised Mitch, Ken, Hector and Sonja -- all with one joyous,* Whoop! *It was accompanied by a high and hearty laugh, even as it turned into a cough and he rubbed his throat hard. But then he spun around, looking between them, face hardening as he asked,* Is Karyn with you? Hector: Who else? *He responded instead of his uncle before stepping closer, eyeing the hole in the wall critically, and hoping his shoulders would be able to pass through. He didn't want to say anything out loud, but the rest of the guys were a lot leaner than him. He watched Arthur crawl up, knowing that if Arthur weren't so badly injured, they would have made him go first for being the youngest. Keeping an eye out as Sonja and then Kenneth went in, he followed afterwards, wiggling his shoulders pass the crawl space and into the passage...which was just another crawl space really, just a bit bigger* Kenneth: *Before following Sonja in he looked behind him at Mitchell, worry crossing his features immediately knowing that if guards came around around the corner too quickly, Mitchell would rather give all of them a head start and distraction than to follow them. Well, they would just all have to go in quickly then. He hoisted himself and shimmied in, waving his hands to cast a lumos on top of their heads.* Mitchell: *He could hear hurried footsteps growing louder and louder. As Hector went in, Mitch quickly jumped up, sliding in and letting the tapestry fall behind him, but scratching his forehead against the stone as he landed in the passage. He didn't move, waiting with abated breath for any indication that he had been spotted. Exhaling in relief as the footsteps didn't slow and kept going past the tapestry. He followed behind his friends down the passage. It was a long crawl, but they were eventually out in the moonlight, stretching limbs and hiding before breaking out into another run.* Hector: *Overjoyed to be out of that crawl space, he almost skipped through the tears in his happiness and their triumph- they had gotten Arthur out! He was safe now, and they were safe and his balls didn't itch anymore! He laughed under his breath as they stopped, resting his raw hands on his knees as he caught his breath.* Kenneth: *He breathed out in relief, only to have it catch in his throat again as Arthur asked about his sister. He bit his lip before he shook his head slowly.* We don't know where she is, Arthur. No one does: Lucy, Thomas, Merida, none of them. But the sheriff hasn't got her either. Mitchell: We're going to find her, Arthur. *he placed his hand on his shoulder, his words determined.* I promise. She probably saw the guards outside the house that day and decided to go into hiding. *He hoped, he vastly hoped, that that was true.* We thought maybe she had gone to London with your father. Arthur: But- *His head jerked, he looked back over his shoulder towards the rising stone.  But they had his father. He swallowed the words back, jaw tense. He didn't want to think of that. Instead he focused on Karyn; they would have used her against him, they would have told him if they had her. Therefore they did not. Glancing at Mitchell's hand on his shoulder he nodded, breathed out and said quieter instead,* Then we'll just have to find her. And I'm going to wring her neck for worrying me so. *He exhaled with a tiny twist in his lips, grinning back at him- at all of them. Lifting his hand to pull Kenneth into a hug too, it was followed with one offered to Hector -- and then he lifted Sonja up.* Sonja: Wo--Arthur! *But she laughed. She could tell he had cut himself from saying something, that his worry was not gone anymore than his injuries were but he still managed to lift her, arms squished around her metal and brows wiggling up at him. She laughed and gasped and pushed his face back,* It's good to see you too. Arthur: Knew you'd miss me, sweetheart. *with an easier grin* Sonja: Course I did, and call me that again, and you'll see how much. Arthur: *He laughed too.* Touchy. *Nodding, he lowered her, stepping to the side in case of retaliation from Kenneth, looking to Mitchell and saying breathlessly,* I believe I was promised a pint. Sonja: Oh, Arthur. Arthur: Look at that! Not even five minutes back here and already it's oh-arthur again. *looking to Hector, his usual ally* Show me the justice in that. Sonja: *with another chuckle, she just repeats,* Oh, Arthur. *With a tiny headshake.* Arthur: *Breathy, he realized the injuries were beginning to catch up to him as he stayed still and exhaled a wince. But he looked at all of them, adding quieter, much more sincerely,* It really is good to see you all. I.. *His voice cut off a moment, choked on emotion.* I don't know how I can thank you. Kenneth: *He almost asked 'but what?'. Almost asked what still worried Arthur even after being out of that infernal place and knowing he would never have to endure that torture again, if all of them could help it. But he didn't, because in the next he was being pulled in for a hug, and a smile was on his lips again as he clapped Arthur on the back. He even laughed genuinely as he lifted Sonja and teased her endlessly, just like he always did, not a part of him annoyed. Well, maybe a little but it was definitely the minority.* Hector: *Clapping Arthur on the back, relieved to have him back with them, he kissed him noisily on the cheek before he could pull back, grinning wide and laughing again, his relief not wanting to come out in any other way apparently.* Mitchell: *chuckling, he nodded his head as Arthur reminded him about the pint.* You'll get it once we're back at camp. And remember, you can't fuss while Sonja looks you over.* Hector: Women, mate. *he nodded sympathetically at Arthur* From kiss to fist in half a second flat. Kenneth: It's good to see you too, Arthur. *he nodded slowly. He shrugged before adding lightly* Consider it as payment for that one time you stopped Bertha from flogging my rear. We're even. Mitchell: Mate...you would have done it for any of us. *he motioned to all of them* We're our own odd little family here and we're just glad to have you back. *he nodded, looking around to figure out how far they were. He turned to Sonja* Do you think we're past the court's wards? We could apparate back to camp from here. Arthur: *Family. He looked sideways at them, guilt twisting in his gut as he considered it, knowing it was how he felt - always how he'd felt, and yet he kept this from them. But even if they were family - what was his father then? And goddammit where was his sister? He lifted both hands up rubbing over his face, trying not to wince at the bruises as he pressed eyes clear of tears and sweat. He nodded slowly at Mitchell's words, wondering what in the world he was going to do - and was grateful to Kenneth, suddenly chuckling,* Yeah well, least I coulda done Ken. Bertha was being just unfair. *His hands dropped, shrugging a shoulder.* Sonja: *For a moment she thought of it, of this family they had all created: thieves, outlaws, would-be assassins, murderers, and muggleborns all and yet she knew damn well they were the best people she'd met in her life. Her eyes went to Ken with a small smile, as if to assure him she did not see him as her brother, before looking back to Mitchell. After a brief check, she nodded.* Yes, I think so. 

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-four: 6} the outlaw babies

Hector: *This Franklin person who he was impersonating had a really uncomfortable itch in the most sacred of places. Good God in heaven, you would think guards would have better hygiene. Holding on to Mitchell's shoulder as they neared the manor, he started to get antsy for an entirely different reason. He swallowed a lump in his throat and then kicked the back of Mitch's leg, trying to make it look believable.* Mitchell: *he hissed, looking sideways at Hector, wishing he could smack the ear off of his nephew, momentarily forgetting about his supposedly restrained wrists. The original patrol carried with them handcuffs that Leah had told them cut off his ability to use magic, how very clever of them. Kenneth had simply copied the look of them and placed them on his wrists, designed to give away with a sharp tug. He wish he could give Hector a rather sharp tug on his hair at the moment too.* You'll pay for that. Kenneth: Quiet. *It was still odd not to hear his own voice when he spoke out, and thankfully this wouldn't last for more than an hour, well, closer to fifty minutes now he realized as they neared the gate. Glancing at Mitchell out of the corner of his eye, he had a hard time reminding himself that the bruises and cuts on his face and arms were glamoured. Another of Mitchell's "more brilliant ideas", that would have been sure to give Leah a heart attack had she been there to see it. Looking at Sonja now as they neared a set of guards, they all agreed that compared to silent and shy David, and dumb-as-a-troll Franklin, she would be the leader of the patrol, or at least talk for them.* Sonja: *Honestly. One would think considering the gravity of the situation, the terror that Arthur had to be experiencing, the boys beside her would be able to behave. But then one would think that one's last name would not define a person's worth to the world: why must she be always so optimistic? It was not hard to feign her persona - this "Gretta" that supposedly was so discontent and rude- in that instant.* Control yourself. *The crisp, airy British accent was odd to hear as she reprimanded "Franklin", adding simply,* I am sure we will all get a turn. *She did her best to sneer at Mitchell, despite her insides churning at the look of his faked-injuries. It didn't work: sneering was not a talent in her repertoire. Allah be praised they were approached, and she had an excuse to look away and remember herself.* Paul: *As he rounded the corner he stopped, his companions idling at his sides. He heard Gretta first - it was hard to miss that tone - saw Franklin next - equally, it was hard to miss his mass - but only passing glanced over David when he saw who they were accompanied with. Eyes widening, he suddenly restrained himself from breaking into a sprint. Mitchell Stone.* Gretta! *His voice was for once as sharp as hers, eyes stuck on the prisoner. Three months they had been looking for him, only to be shown as a fool time and time again as Stone slipped free and skipped off with their possessions.* You caught- Sonja: Yes. *Act like a bitch, Leah had said, so cutting him off worked. Plus she hadn't wanted to hear what he was about to call Mitchell, whoever he was. She was amused she was addressed, that they had not looked to her male companions. Kenneth had been brilliant to point out she should be in charge, whatever Hector's eye roll.* And we're going to the Sheriff. *She swallowed back at the last minute 'if you don't mind', thinking it would be too polite.* Paul: *Stopping still in front of Mitchell, he frowned at the simple remark with bewilderment on his face,* What happened? Sonja: We'll tell the Sheriff. *snapping it, her arm tightening around Mitchell's.* Paul: *He blinks, looking between the three of them, then shakes his head* You're due to be on patrol-- Sonja: *With only a hint of her anxiety showing,* And look how well we protected the court, hm? *Catching her breath as she realizes his growing aggravation outweighing his relief at what he thought was Mitchell's capture. So she focused,* The Sheriff will want to know. Paul: Yes, he will. *But the Sheriff was asleep. With a woman and a cask of ale, he wagered, though he knew he shouldn't think ill of the man. It was hard not to. slinging his bow back, he looked back to Gretta,* And we'll tell him, while you three- *he casts his gaze between them*- report back to your patrol. Sonja: *angry, though not for the reason he'd think* So you can take our glory? Paul: Glory? *Snapping it, and now he looks away from Mitchell at last, glaring at the woman. Leave it to Gretta to put it that way - he only was surprised she didn't mention the reward.* Was it glorious? *Sarcasm dripping from his tone, his eyes trail over the cuts and bruises the man suffered from.* Depriving a man of liberty? Your glory is the fact that our children sleep safer, nothing further - and you can tell the Sheriff it was your patrol who found him in the morning. Go. Sonja: *Her eyebrows arching with her surprise, she couldn't help but think it was an interesting point of view. Why would this guard...but she couldn't focus on that. About to snap he couldn't order her, it occurred to her this guard wasn't one - he clearly wore the emblem of a knight, as well as the demeanor. Which meant he was one of Damocles', not the Sheriff's, and...could, order Gretta. Her argument was cut off before she opened her mouth,* Paul: Now. Mitchell: *he snorted, nearly forgetting it was Sonja after all. Still, he was Mitchell Stone, he had a reputation and he was a wounded prisoner wasn't he? If he didn't reply back with a smart comment, it wouldn't be accurate.* If you want your way with me Gretta, all you have to do is ask. Kenneth: Shut up, Stone. *he would have rolled his eyes if the other guards weren't in sight by now, might have even hit him too if he thought David would have had the stomach for it without being egged on.* Hector: *All Hector really had to do was smirk and grunt, really. Sneer as well, sneering he could do quite well. His eyes narrowed, almost frowning as they're stopped, trying to appear exasperated and annoyed as "Gretta" was. He looked at Kenneth and Sonja as they were told to head back to patrol, forcing himself not to panic as clearly this was not part of the plan. He hoped his frown came across as one of confusion, and one that was seen on Franklin's face often.* But... Mitchell: *he coughed, his voice sluggish out of practice, not weakness.* Gents, Gretta, I have a better idea: let's just not and say we did. *Once Paul had finally looked away from, he looked towards Kenneth and moved his head down once, quickly, catching his eye.* Kenneth: *He had barely seen it. Barely, but there it was, Mitchell had caught his eye and nodded once. He licked his lips quickly and then spoke up in a timid voice after Paul's order.* Come on Gretta, we don't want to get in trouble. Hector: *Looking at Kenneth and Sonja for a moment, he shoved Mitchell forward abruptly, unkindly, with a mutter of bastard  and Hector knew he was going to pay for that later but he was merely staying in character. He smirked and sneered before heading away with Sonja and Kenneth, cursing under his breath after they were far away enough from the other guards.* Mitchell: *mumbling* Mind the goods, darling. *A prisoner transfer, not a part of the plan. He didn't have time to sulk about it though. As they moved inside, Mitchell had to await the opportune moment. Ironically, these guards were far less rough than Mitchell expected them to be. Poor sods, Mitch almost felt sorry for having to do this to them. Almost. Snapping free of his cuffs, he used the momemtum to aim a stupefy at the two guards next to him, having to kick the leader forward to earn himself another moment to stun him as well. He exhaled, looking around quickly before attaching the bodies to the ceiling. He couldn't risk opening a door and hoping it was a cupboard instead of a packed drawing room. Hopefully nobody looked up...no, that was a risk he couldn't take, so he disillusioned the men too. Turning around after placing another disillusionment charm on himself, he headed towards the Sheriff's quarters, remembering where Leah had said they were at.

[fycourtera]

{chapter twenty-four: 4} mitchell, hector, kenneth, sonja, leah

Mitchell: *huddled up together* Right! So here's the plan- Kenneth: Is this the real plan? Mitchell: Of course, why- Hector: Because the last eight plans have been stupid. Mitchell: Well this one isn't! *he takes three vials out his pocket* Hector: *he narrows his eyes* Whut's that? Mitchell: This, my friends, is our ticket into the manor. This is polyjuice potion. Kenneth: *he ahhs in comprehension, nodding his head, a little apprehensive about whatever plan Mitchell had concocted, but still undoubtably curious and anxious* Hector: *frowning* whut in the bloody hell is polyjuice potion? Sonja: *Snip! She cut off the end of the twine, moving the little wood knife through the edge of her bow to keep her hands busy. She giggled at Ken's remark--a single chuckle under her breath, and then looked up at the last question, relieved that whatever the plan was, it involved some kind of actual forethought. Though, she had no idea what polyjuice was.* ...From Leah? *gesturing at it with her hilt* Leah: Yes. *Shoving the monkey necklace back down her front, two seconds from having landed, and tossing three more vials at Mitchell.* Three hairs. Sonja: Hairs? *forced to wait as Leah leans down and seems to kiss Mitchell with a sudden ferocity.* Leah: *rubbing her lips as she pulled back, and blinks at Sonja's question* For the --hello Ken, Hector, not a word on the greeting honey-- for the potions...? Mitchell: *he was about to answer when Leah popped up, answering for him. Catching the vials, he nodded* Hairs- *he leaned up to kiss her back, cupping her cheek* Hector: *looks between Mitchell and Leah, still confused, rolling his eyes as they start snogging, speaking up anyways* Hold on, hold on- I'm not drinking nuthing with no one's hair in it- Kenneth: *bemused, simply waves a hand at Leah as she says hello and then explains, turning to Hector and Sonja and explaining* Polyjuice potion allows the drinker to take the appearance of another, whoever the hair belongs to. Hector: I don't want to look like some old codger! Mitchell: *rolls eyes* It's temporary, see these hairs belong to one of the sheriff's patrols. While they're out, we go in. Kenneth: But...there's only three. Hector: I volunteer to not take it! Mitchell: *he rolls his eyes again* Well, that's the thing, you three take the potion, and either I sneak in disillusioned -or-...you know, arrest me. Kenneth: what?! Mitchell: yes, but instead take me to -the sheriff- and then I can get a signature out of him. we need him to sign for the temporary transfer of Arthur, then we knock him out, head to the dungeons and get Arthur out of there. Leah: *Her hand slides down Mitchell's arm to tightly grasp his wrist and tangled her fingers with his. She had not told him yet Damocles knew--nor what had transpired with her father--but was more than content to simply grasp him tighter.* ...Arrest you!? Mitch-- Sonja: It will make the Sheriff come running, true. *She did not mean to truly cut Leah off. Arthur had been in a cell four days now, she refused to let it be a single day longer.* Leah: Well, yes, but. *Her nose wrinkles.* ...what do I do with the three guards you're impersonating? Sonja: *lightly, a shoulder shrugging* Lock them in Arthur's place? *eying the potion warily* How long is temporary? Leah: *For merlinssakes she liked this less every minute.* One hour.Mitchell: *squeezing Leah's hand tightly without looking away from his friends. For the most part, they all seemed to follow his plan.* Kenneth: *he smirked a moment at Sonja's suggestion of what to do with the guards; he couldn't help but agree.* Or you could tell us their patrol route and we can intercept them, knock them out. Hector: Now -that- I will gladly do *he nodded his head only to wrinkle his nose.* An hour? Does it have to be that long? Mitchell: An hour is cutting it close, Hector. *he turned to Leah, squeezing her hand again* Were you able to get Damocles' signature? Kenneth: We need his too? Mitchell: Not necessarily, but if it turns out to be Damocles' men guarding the cells instead of the Sheriff's then we might run into a bit of a problem. Hector: Then why don't we just escort you to the dungeon to begin with? Mitchell: Because we need them to hand us the key or Arthur personally, not take me and throw me in the bloody cell next to him and tell you to get lost. We can't afford to fight our way out, we need to walk out. So! Unless anyone has a better plan, I'm not letting Arthur stay in that place another day. Leah: *Her dress caught on the tree as she squeezed Mitchell's hand back, heart in her throat and she nods* Yes, I was. *She reaches into her bodice again, brushing against her charm and flask almost for comfort and hands him the little scroll. She holds Mitchell's gaze and says under her breath,* He gave it freely when I asked, actually. Sonja: *Sidelong glance to Kenneth interrupted by that, she swivels around in agreement.* No, this is as best as I think it will get. I won't leave him there either. *Her brows furrow, asking Leah with a sweet smile,* One of the guards is female? Leah: *grateful the question wasn't on Damocles' cooperation, she grins a bit* Ah, yes actually. Gretta is the patrol...she's a piece of work. Can you act like...*pause* Sonja: *easily* A bitch? Leah: *tiny grin* Yes, exactly honestly.Mitchell: *he took the scroll, smirking momentarily at where she took it from, but her next revelation caused him to raise his eyebrows* ...he did? Kenneth: *Damocles Faye signed his name on a piece of parchment without asking any questions? Odd. Sonja seemed to think so too, if the look they shared said anything.* Hector: *he exhales, accepting that he was going to have to look like a stupid sot for an hour. The things he did for Arthur, honestly. He smirked.* I think Sonja can pull it off. Who am I imitating? Leah: *She presses her lips together, gaze flicking between the three of them,* Sonja: Oi, Hector. *She arches an eyebrow at him amused.* How much you appreciate me, hm? Leah: *she giggles before saying quickly,* Hector...I don't know, that one *pointing* is for Franklin, who speaks about four words I believe-- Sonja: *playful, sheathing the dagger* Perfect. Leah: Then...Ken, that leaves you with David. *Her eyes are back on Mitchell.* He did, yes. *tiny bit pleading* He is my Uncle...and he's not as suspicious when I'm...*under her breath*up front with him. Hector: *he gasps* 'm just saying! I have faith in your skills of deceit and manipulation. Kenneth: *he snorts, shaking his head* Are you trying to compliment her? Hector: Of course, whut else? Kenneth: *he chuckles and teases, looking at Mitchell too* That Stone charm. Mitchell: *he chuckled but didn't say anything against it...it was honestly quite true.* Hector: I can't act like a brainless oaf, no problem *grins* Kenneth: *he smirks, amused before he nodded, knowing of David- he almost seemed not to want to catch them most of the time.* No problem. Mitchell: *looking back at Leah, he couldn't help but to think that there was something else she was keeping but didn't press it right at that moment.* Alright, now all we have to do is wait for them to start their patrol. Sonja: *laughing, she's inherently reminded of Arthur at the poorly pronounced hilarious and oddly flattering remark. There's a clutch in her chest, but she shakes her head,* Thank you, Hector. I will do my utmost to live down to those standards. *She winks.* Leah: Ahh, Stone charm. *Her lips flick up, eyes still on Mitchell's, for her heart was beating very fast.* What woman could resist? Sonja: *snorts, but remarks teasingly--eyes still on Ken* What woman could? Leah: *nods* They start out the south gate towards the forest once the sun sets, walk a mile in to the forest off the road east, *slowly, feeling odd revealing direct routes, knowing how closely guarded a secret Derrick kept them,* round around, come back on the west and switch off before the moon is quarter high. Should give you three hours...moment the sun sets you can intercept them there. *She scrunches her eyes looking beneath a flat palm towards the low sun and nods once more.* You have a half an hour I'd guess. *Her eyes flick back to Mitchell and --eager to get off the subject of Damocles, asks a bit lighter,* You met with Rick and Luce? Jane mentioned... Hector: Aha! Live down- nice one! *grins and nods* Mitchell: *he chuckles again, voice dropping to a whisper as he commented to Leah* Obviously not you, love. Kenneth: *grinning despite everything, he winked as Sonja spoke before turning to listen as Leah explained* Shouldn't we wait until they're a little deeper in the forest though? We can't exactly come back ten minutes after they've left. Mitchell: He's right, in any case, polyjuice only lasts for an hour...a good knock out jinx...depends on the caster. Hector: So let's hit 'em all with four to make sure. Kenneth: No that could kill 'em...one's enough, one -good- one. Hector: Whut chu trying to say? Mitchell: *he looks up at the sun, nodding at the time and then wrinkles his nose* Unfortunately. Could have appreciated a heads up. Leah. Hector. Hector: I forgot! Been a bit preoccupied, haven't we? Leah: *Her smile widens a moment as she looks at him with his whisper, lifting a shoulder to murmur back while tucking a loose brunette curl,* Evidently not. You wore me down eventually, love. *Lord, please let the incessant blushing whenever he looks at her with that little smirk go away. She knew it had been only four days, that she ought to give herself time considering what they had done, but merlin her heart was racing, her skin on fire and oh did she --want--* Sonja: *She had lifted a hand to high-five Hector with a grin, and now spun back to Ken, nodding in agreement slowly.* Yes. And that gives us more time to set up. *brow furrows, looking at Hector, amused* And we could practice the stunners? Leah: *with the tiniest giggle, thumb absently rubbing a circle on his wrist,* I thought you knew! It wasn't particularly a secret anymore when he walked into town and snogged her? Mitchell: *he only smirked, as he looked forward, nodding with the suggestion of having more time to set up and practice.* Hector: *high fives Sonja, grinning wide, both excited about having a plan and nervous...their plans never seemed to work.* I don't need no practice. Kenneth: Oh, I don't know, there's no such thing as too much practice, especially for you. *he smiles, though it was practiced, forced. He was anxious to start this already, they needed to get Arthur out -yesterday-, the day before really.* Mitchell: *he wrinkles* I don't want to picture them snogging, Leah, I may vomit. Leah: *Well, that seemed to do it. As his smirk flicked up smug and irritation settled in her stomach, her blush receded, she was sure of it. Oh, Mitchell.* Sonja: *amused* There's no shame in practicing, Hector. Leah: There is however, much temptation and cause to take the mickey out on you if you miss later. *wiggles an eyebrow* Sonja: *looking curiously at Mitchell's remark, and looks at Ken to ask a bit quieter,* Luce and Rick? Is that...Lucy in town? Leah: Mitchell, I'm telling you if you didn't see them snogging that day, they were behaving. *she cocks an eyebrow, shrugging a shoulder, saying a bit quieter* I'm glad, really, means I do have one relative who wholeheartedly understands my...position. Hector: Yeh, yeh alright alright. *he waves his hand at them, rolling his eyes before smirking* So who am I stunning then? Ladies first? Kenneth: *hits his shoulder* Don't be a prat, Hector. *he turns back to Sonja and nods* Yeah, Lucy from town, our friend. We love her like a sister really. Mitchell: *No, but they were all touchy and the glances spoke volumes.* I suppose...are you gon' tell him about us? He...well, he knows about almost everything, 'cept for your involvement. Sonja: *she smiles as Ken hits him, unperturbed,* Oh, and she's...with this Rick then? Leah: *she grins* My first cousin. Sonja: *She chuckles, raising her hand and pointing it at him,* Excellent. So, I'm practicing first? Such a gentleman, Hector.  Leah: *Her eyes widen a bit* Everything? *She blinks, breath hurried before she squeezes his hand again, raising a hand to lift her necklace out--knowing it was the one thing they hadn't even told the gang, glancing at the bracelet on his wrist and looking up at him, asking wordlessly before adding,* I guess I better had then. At least...most everything, but I imagine he'll remark about his predilection to regurgitation over such details too. *Oh, but they're so different. Leah giggles.* Kenneth: Yeah, apparently. *he shrugged, he didn't really feel any way about it. He trusted Lucy's judgement.* Hector: Hey, hey *he brings his hand up as well* Fair fight, fair fight! Mitchell: Well, not everything *he corrected himself quickly, watching her grow nervous, squeezing her hand back.* Predilection to regurgitation? *he mocked, snorting before teasing* what are you, a noble? Sonja: *she laughs again shifting her stance and keeping both arms up, nodding* All right, all right, count of three then. One, two-- Leah: *ignoring this except for a wary eye in case they wound each other before they get the chance to go to Arthur, and then swivels hearing Mitchell, wrinkling her nose and punching his shoulder (though all without releasing his hand)* By birth, not by choice. *exhale, equally mocking* Need me to define the words, do you?

[fycourtera]

{chapter sixteen: 3} mitchell, leah, hector, kenneth, sonja, arthur

Leah: *At least she was out of the dress. She'd dressed the cuts on her arm and her cheek, but even though she'd stopped bleeding, she still felt bloody. It wasn't until she was in her tunic, hair in a tight braid, sword back on her hip--and honestly she never wanted it off again--that she felt herself. Her mind was reeling, and she knew she had work to do, knew she had to see her uncle, but when Derrick had given them leave (which really was just most of her comrades going to get drunk), she declared she wanted to sleep, kissed her father's cheek, hugged her mother and George tightly, and supposedly went to sleep. Instead, she first went on a search for Robert, and was dismayed and startled to realize he too had died. It was strange, too: it appeared he had been crushed, but it felt wrong to her...if he'd hired the musicians...it seemed to her his death only made it certain he'd been involved. For now she couldn't ask. So she'd knelt down to cast spells Ads had taught her, and...well she was gonna ask Adelina what the results meant, but she thought they indicated he had died from spell damage, not the ceiling on top of him. Biting her bottom lip as she thought about it, she finally just changed, twisted her necklace, and murmured Mitchell's name.  Appearing suddenly in the forest, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding as she saw both Hector and Mitchell alive, fine she knew was far off.* Oh thank God. *she took two steps and had her arms around them both in a second.* Mitchell: *He was still running though not as fiercely as he had before for they had finally come upon the mile perimeter of enchantments and spells they  had around their camp to warn them of intruders and fend them off. Mitchell would have to ask Kenneth for help on how to change them so Hector could pass by without any harm, but for now Mitchell could just lead them around a safe path, after silencing the alarm only he and the rest of their small band of brothers could hear. He had tried to joke, "running's good for the heart", but Hector didn't seem to hear him. Whether he was engrossed in thoughts of the man he'd killed or the girl he'd kissed, Mitchell didn't know. He hoped it was the latter. Stopping suddenly as he hears a soft pop, he breathes in relief to see Leah there, as well as he could hope her to be. He kissed her cheek and hugged her back with one arm, for that's all he had space for; Hector hugged her as well. He took care not too squeeze too hard, feeling the padding of some bandages under her clothing* I'm glad you're alright. Hector: *he had startled upon hearing the pop, gearing back and preparing himself for a spell but his fear turned turned to surprise and confusion as he saw Leah there* ...how...*he didn't get an answer, he got a hug and for a brief moment he simply stood still, afraid. She had been there, she had seen him do it and dear God, didnt she have an uncle named Anthony? He could t remember now, he could barely remember anything but the squeeze was comforting and he hugged her back, shutting his eyes tight for a moment before pulling away, his words hurried* Leah, imsorry, so so sor- I didn't mean- I swear it, I swe- you have to believe me, I never meant- *he shook his head repeatedly, his bottom lip quivering* Leah: *smiles a second as she feels Mitchell's kiss, and she tilts her head to look at him nodding once. Her lips flick a moment. But she was focused on Hector as she hears him, hugging as tightly as she could for a second. Pulling back, she cupped his cheeks, holding tightly and saying firmly.* I know. I believe you, Hector. *she breathes out, shaking her head briefly but holding her gaze with his.* Anymore than I meant to. *she drops her hands, tired, but slides them back around him alone this time, burying his head in her neck, and waiting. Over his shoulder, she locked gazes with Mitchell again, not knowing what she could even say. Her heart was heavy, aching, and she didn't even know how to comprehend that she had killed two men--anymore than that she wouldn't see her Uncle Anthony smile at her again before picking her up in a bear hug--but Hector was hurting too, and she didn't need to hurt him more. Frankly, she couldn't deal with it. There was hurt enough for one night--frankly forever. Quietly pulling back after several long moments, she asked calmer, rubbing her eyes.* Is there anything I can...is there anything I can get either of you? *She'd forgotten he didn't know how she could get there, but right now, she didn't care. Pulling back, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked at them for a second.* I do have..well..*she pauses, and then just says finally and firmly* Robert's dead, Mitchell. Hector: *he clenched his jaw stubbornly, despising the fact that he could feel his eyes water again. He wasn't a baby, crying wouldn't help. Nothing Leah could say would help. In the end she had fought and killed to protect her family, and he had killed someone who had been doing the same. God, he didn't even think, he just didn't want to see Jasper hurt, it could have just as easily been Leah instead of the knight. He didn't want to think anymore. He closed his eyes and hugged her again, sniffing when she pulled away and then nodded once, asking meekly* Might be nice to have my hammer. The big one. Mitchell: *Mitchell hadn't yet taken a life, no matter how responsible he felt for the loss of several, so he could not understand what his nephew was going through but he could at least try to help. Leah had been deeply immersed in the fighting herself and Mitchell's relief at seeing her safe could not be truly expressed by words. He wished he could hold her in his arms again, but settled for keeping his gaze fixed on hers as she tried to comfort Hector, and no doubt tried to find comfort herself. At her words, Mitchell cursed, passing a hand over his face* Hector: *he looked at Mitchell and then back to Leah, confused* who's Robert? Mitchell: *dropping his finger from his mouth he exhaled* He hired the musicians. Hector: what?! *his jaw unhinged, eyes wide* How do you know? Mitchell: I'll tell you later, I just...*he clenched his fists, wishing he could hit something and then cursed again, exhaling* We finally had something, damnit! After months- *he exhales again, biting his lip* Someone else must know something, a friend, a family member... Leah: *At the tiny request, an honest half smile crossed her lips and she nodded repeatedly, quickly* Yeah, okay, I can get that. *That she could focus on. Thinking about what had happened...she couldn't. Hector had known them, she thought, Mitchell might even have...he'd saved someone, who had it been? She knew Anthony's family...was part of it, actually, had the men she killed had one? She pulled back, thinking and then her eyes shut at Mitchell's curse. Nodding, she bit her bottom lip and dropped her hand. She felt the same.* I know. *she wrinkles her nose and then continues, looking back up at him.* I don't...I think he might have been killed on purpose, Mitchell. *she flipped her braid over her shoulder* And there has to be something, you're right. We'll find it, okay? *she's breathing really heavily, and nods.* There just...*she looks down, shaking her head, ignoring how it whips her braid* ...has to be. *looks back up, and says quieter* I'm just glad you two are...okay. Mitchell: *He snorts in distaste and then nods, agreeing* Of course he was. *He was always the first to believe in conspiracies, but apart from that he learned a while ago now that almost everything that happens in that damned place is now pure accident or coincidence. And he trusted Leah, if she believed that, then he did. He licked his suddenly dry lips and nodded more slowly now, sighing* We'll figure something out. *he shot Hector a look before turning back to Leah, seeing her all but carry the weight of tonight on her shoulders; Hector was a mirror* in the morning. We're almost to camp. Hector: *He was very lost in what they spoke, only gathering that whoever this Robert person was, he must have known something about all the attack on the muggleborns.* I don't think I could sleep *he admitted quietly, knowing that the rest of the gang would want that explanation Mitchell had promised them. He hoped he didn't have to tell it though, he might just throw up the watered down wine he had only hours before* Mitchell: I think just sitting down will do some good, Hector. *he licked his lips and then turned back to Leah, before asking in a quieter voice, worry lacing it* Alec and Blair, are they alright? I saw them under rubble, knocked out--*he said knocked out because the alternative was unthinkable*--their friends were helping them. I was going to them but *his gaze flickered to Hector in explanation, exhaling* are they okay? Leah: *Her brow arched, realizing how quickly she was believing in conspiracies now, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like a thread. The musicians attacked for no discernible reason, and the man who hired them turned up dead? That wasn't a coincidence. Biting her tongue at Mitchell's question she suddenly winced, pinched her nose and exhaled, nodding rapidly* Yeah, they're--they're both all right. Asleep. I think. * Alec wasn't all right. There was no way Alec was asleep. Her tongue slipped between pursed lips for a second, feeling like she had to force the words out.* Their...their friend is missing. One of them. But..*now she bites down on her tongue and says firmly* ..we're going to find them. *Looking at Mitchell, she suddenly realized she'd like nothing better than to collapse into his side. Her eyes met his. Gravitating to his side, she took a breath, trying to merely keep her head up. She looks back at Hector, reaches over to squeeze his arm, and then her lips flick up in a small smile.* Still freakishly strong, God, here I try to squeeze your arm in comfort, and I can't even make a fingerprint. *Her lips quirked. As her hand dropped back down, she rubbed at her eyes, trying to keep tears at bay: they were walking to their camp, she couldn't stop yet. Her hand naturally fell back to Mitchell's, and after a moment, as their eyes met, she took it. Then she looked forward again. And kept walking.* Mitchell: *Mitchell noticed the hesitance in her words as she spoke, and that was what had him worried still, despite learning they were still alive at least. He sighed, running a hand over his face and frowning further as he hears someone's gone missing* Just keep me informed, please? Hector: *he managed a small smile as Leah teased him. He might have teased back or flexed or something but it didn't come naturally to him, so he just stepped back into following them* Mitchell: *Looking down to their joined hands for a moment, he squeezed it once and then nodded at Leah, walking in silence for a bit, and taking a breath of relief as they reached camp, Sonja, Kenneth and Arthur already there* Everyone alright? Kenneth: *in the middle of talking and being bandaged up by Sonja, he looks up at Mitchell and then exhales, nodding* Ran into a few knights, but we shook them off. Leah: Of course I will. *She meant for them to find Sid today, really: likely as not she had gone into hiding and didn't know it was safe yet. At least that's what Leah was choosing to believe. There was no evidence she was harmed, and she hadn't been in the ballroom and--and Leah was just so tired. She nodded at Hector's acknowledgement: she understood. Taking small comfort from Mitchell's quiet gesture, she moved a little closer to him as they got to the camp. Now that she'd told him all she knew--how insanely little it felt she did!--all she truly wanted to do was curl up in Mitchell's arms and forget the outside world existed. Relieved as Kenneth, Sonja, and Arthur came into view--she breathed out* Thank God--*again, and wouldn't Jane be proud of her? She winced at the immediate report* Which knights? Arthur: *is bandaging his own wrist, otherwise unharmed, he looked up and said instantly, drily* Damn, you know, I forgot to look at their name tags. Leah: *nose wrinkles & she sighs* Arthur-- Sonja: *nodding at Ken as she rips off the edge of the cloth,she's sitting close to him, and doesn't let his arm go even when she looks up in similar relief to see them all right. After a tiny exasperated look at Arthur, she said swiftly to Leah.* No one was hurt. *There was a tiny pang at her own remark--Leah was someone she considered a friend, but still, she understood Arthur's exasperation too. They had been trying to kill them, after all. Judging from Leah's expression, she was well aware of that.* Leah: *very quietly* Thanks, Sonja. *she rubbed her forehead, adding sincerely* I'm so glad to see you all. Arthur: *biting his lips, he drops the bandage* Leah- Leah: She's fine. *instant; glad to have good news, as Arthur's face broke open in relief and his shoulders relaxed* Karyn's home. She went with Lucy, and Thomas...they're all right. Thomas was banged up, but Luce healed him, I guess with a little help from Rick--*which she was only saying cause it amused her, and cause she was glad to report something good*--he'll be fine. *exhales* So will Alice, she was unharmed. *she turned to Mitchell again, tired of reporting names, tired of lists and figures, and just finally tugged on his arm so they could sit down, and instantly she put her head on his shoulder.* Mitchell: *he pursed his lips, understanding the frustration perfectly. It was unfair, when they were being hunted like animals, the knights not giving a bloody damn if they were caught alive or not, but yet they had to make sure not to harm them too much. They couldn't survive like that for long, Mitchell knew that* Kenneth: Well, I was hurt *his lips twitch a moment, before he added more softly* but it's a scratch. Sonja closed it pretty quickly. *he looks back at her and then smiles in gratitude, knowing another series of thank you's weren't called for* Mitchell: Brackner? *his eyebrows rise* Brackner helped? Willingly? *he snorted, shaking his head and then sitting down with Leah, putting an arm around her shoulders* How well dressed were these girls exactly? Hector: Splendidly. I was too *he looks down at his ruined suit and throws the jacket and shirt off. Feeling rather like he doesn't belong, he shifts his feet and then clears his throat* So...anywhere I can wash off? Kenneth: Not anywhere close no. *he looked at Hector curiously, tilting his head to look at Mitchell next but he figured whatever happened, they weren't going to say now* We can't stay too close to the water, they'd expect us to. Hector: Oh...*purses his lips and then just sits down* Where do I sleep? Mitchell: *he frowns, wishing he could take Hector home, that's all he wanted, Mitchell could tell: a bed.* Wherever you want. The ground is a bit more comfortable than a branch though, and you can't fall off the ground. Sonja: *Her gaze softens as she looks back at Ken, saying sweetly, but with an honest smile.* Well, I was trying to avoid your immediate 'it's fine' with the male ego, but. *her brows wiggle, finally releasing his arm* Arthur: *snorts once, not really caring what Brackner had done--now that he was certain he wasn't running back to get Karyn, he was rather liking this "sleep" idea. Or Hector's idea of washing off--wait, Hector, what the bloody was Hector doing there? After a quick glance around and looking at Mitch, he decided he could ask that in the morning. Sitting himself against the tree, his lips twitched at the question* There's a cushioning charm though, and Ken swears we're getting cots any day now. *his brows wiggle as he looks at his friend.* Sonja: *her lips flick fondly, a tiny smirk on her lips as she still looks at Ken* He is good with wood. Arthur: Maybe we can nick a couple o' those silk feather pillows next. *stifles a yawn* Leah: Oh Arthur. *she sighs, amused regardless, and leans a little closer to Mitchell, brows furrowed as Hector rips his shirt off and she looks sideways back at Mitchell, brows arched as she echoes incredulously* How well dressed were they!? Arthur: *nodding in agreement; hand flicks out* I mean, from what I saw anyways.  Leah: *purses her lips and buries her face in Mitchell's side to hide her amusement, muttering instead just to be obstinate* Yes, Frederick willingly helped. And I'm sure Karyn'll have those gowns fixed in no time. Kenneth: *he chuckles, staying close to Sonja even as she releases his arm and then shrugs* Mitch and Arthur use up all the ego around here. Mitchell: You say that like it's a bad thing. *he laid his head on top of Leah's, kissing her head a moment and then chuckles* Cots, yeah, hopefully they work out better than the hammocks. Kenneth: *smirking a brief moment at Sonja's comment, he chuckles and nods* Hmm, I'm working on it. Hector: The ground will have to do, I s'pose. *he brings his knees up and lays his arms across them, sighing, staring at a spot on the ground aimlessly* Mitchell: Well pardon me *his lips flick* but why else would a known bigot help out a few muggleborns unless they looked fancy enough to be noble? *shrugs* Aside from Lucy's kicked puppy stare, I mean. Sonja: *she chuckles and nods, getting up to fetch her own pack, though her eyes stay lingering on Kenneth for a moment* True. Leah: *her lips flick, comforted by Mitchell's kiss even as she teases* I don't know how you survive with all them, Sonja. Sonja: *chuckles, shrugging a shoulder* Arthur: Aww, you know you love us, Leah. Leah: *tiny noise of agreement and amusement* Arthur: Well love one of us, anyways. You too Sonja. I'm alone 'ere and yet you all criticize me. Sonja: *feels a warmth in her cheeks, but says without missing a beat* Poor baby. *Though she casts a glance at Hector worriedly and sits next to him instead, handing him one of her blankets.* Here. *Calmly, but with concern clear in her eyes* You're Hector? I'm Sonja. Leah: *giggles once, and then sighs at Mitchell's comment, shaking her eyes* You mean, why would my cousin help save my brother? I'd say he isn't that bad but you never believe me. *exhale* Besides, I think it might have been the stare. She kept looking at him anyways. Mitchell: *shooting Arthur a quick glare, mostly playful though he jokes after* Thought you'd be used to being alone by now, really. Kenneth: *moving to put on a clean, or at least as clean as it could get, shirt, he kicks Arthur's shin as he passes him sitting against the tree* Got yer hand still, mate. Hector: *he smiles briefly for a moment, taking small comfort in their familiar teasing, not realizing how much he had missed it* Well, I love you, Arthur. *he looks up as he's joined, taking the blanket with a smile* Thanks. *he nodded at his name* Nice to meet ya. *he smiles again* Sorry, you know I'm usually a lot more charming. How'd you end up with this lot? Mitchell: Only because your words contradict what I've seen. *shrugs and then holds her tighter to him, smelling her hair* I'm just glad they're alright. This night's been bad enough. *he sighed* Arthur: Ow--*his moan of pain quickly breaks off into laughter, and he pulls his shin back, rubbing where he was kicked and he shoots Kenneth a look, saying sweetly* Didn't know you thought about that, mate. Not sure how I feel about that-- sweet as it is for you to worry for me o'course. Leah: *instantly exchanges a look with Sonja which reads quite clearly "men."* Arthur:*ducks preemptively, much more relaxed now--and tired. Grinning at Hector, his smirk flicks and he says lightly* Oi, see someone appreciates me. Want a drink, Hector? *Teasing, though actually...a drink would be lovely. They had to have taken -some- alcohol come to think of it. He got up to check, going over to their expanded bags and digging through.* Sonja: *teasingly, her soft smile flicks as her gaze darts to Mitchell for a moment, then Kenneth* My good luck, I suppose. Stumbled across each other, I may have held them at arrow point-- Leah: *snorts suddenly, looks up at Mitch, wrapping her arm around his waist tighter even as she quipped* Neglected to mention that, luv. Sonja: And then turned out we had common goals. *nods* Leah: *tucking herself closer as Mitchell, pulls her in, she shuts her eyes and presses her cheek to his chest, breathing out* Yeah. *and much, much quieter* I'm just glad to see you, Mitch. Kenneth: Oh piss off, Arthur. *he shakes his head, slipping a shirt over his head once he finds it and the plops down on his usual place near the fire* Hector: There's drinks? *That sounded very appealing right about then, actually. It figures that they would have alcohol, but no water. But of course, he supposed they could conjure water...Hector just didn't know how to conjure something to put that water in. He grinned a bit at Sonja's explanation and laughed once, though the sound was not without effort* Brilliant. *he tilted his head* Common goal? *he was a bit confused*...clearing your name? Mitchell: Well, I might have been feeling slightly emasculated at that point to share, really. *his lips twitch and he smiles, breathing out heavily* As am I, love. *he stroked her hair* As am I. You know, I just realized today this knight thing is really quite perilous especially right now. I was worried -*an understatement, and a lie, because he still was-* I don't think I'll sleep another night ever again. Arthur: *chuckles, nodding at Ken, he mimes a finger on his lips before pulling out a bottle of scotch, popping the crystal cap off and downing a significant swig before gasping an swivelling to offer it first to Sonja* Ladies first. Sonja: *a brow arches in surprise and amusement, responding lightly* Why, thank you sir. Arthur: Oh shut up. *chuckles once, rubbing the bandage on his wrist while she takes a swig* Sonja: *gasps out herself, warmer and then looks back at Hector, lips twitching* Well I suppose that's a goal. At the time it was more about robbing that bastard Lord- Leah: *lips twitch in amusement & agreeing with a nod against Mitchell's chest* Sonja: -but yes. Also- I believe we have you to thank for the swords? *grin flicks* So thank you, mate. Leah: Ahh. *winks at Sonja, then tilts her head back to rest against Mitchell, not frankly giving a damn anymore what they saw. So she leaned up to kiss him, briefly once, and said sweetly* Well, now you know how I've felt. I'd say since you were outlawed but honestly it's more accurate to say since you shot at the dragon. *adds quickly* And hit it, yes, yes, I know. Sonja: *had a warm smile on her lips, from seeing them kiss, and suddenly blinks* Dragon? Arthur: *had smirked as Leah kissed him, opening his mouth to say something, but is sidetracked, looking immediately at Hector* Oh, don't. With the born of dragon bit. Kenneth: *he wrinkles his nose, wanting a swig but not about to simply snatch it back from Sonja's hand, his cheeks flushing a bit to hear her gasp, rubbing his hands and holding them over the fire* Pass it around, eh? Hector: Oi, me first. *he chuckles and then nods, understanding* Noble goal. *He meant it too. He grinned and then smirked* Oh, it was my pleasure. Quite fun. But I would take a sip of that drink as a token of everyone's gratitude. Mitchell: *pleasantly surprised as she leaned up to kiss him in plain view, his smile wide as she pulled back and then chuckled, smirking* One of my proudest moments. Hector: *grin widens* A blessed day! *quickly adds, realizing a bit too slowly what he had said* I mean, horrible, dreadful, of course, but I was born too, so really- Kenneth: *groans and shakes his head* Here we go again. Now I'm really gonna need that drink. Hector: *leaning up a bit to explain it to Sonja* About eighteen years ago, the town and manor was attacked by a dragon, and French knights. All other details aside, when the dragon died, I was being born, in that exact same moment- Mitchell: *snorts* I wouldn't say that- Hector: And you know, magic can't be destroyed. At least, a book I read- Kenneth: Ha! Hector: ...*admits* was told about, claimed it couldn't be destroyed, only transformed. So all of that fury, all of that magic released upon the dragon's death sought out its next vessel, a pure one, me. *he puffs out his chest* Hector Stone, born of the dragon. Sonja: *chuckles once, rubbing her throat as she mouths 'sorry' at Kenneth and leaning over to hand the bottle to Hector. Listening curiously, she tilts her head as both Arthur and Kenneth groan as one, her brows go high and eyes wide* ...oh wow. Leah: *her grin flicks as she looks up at Mitchell, saying fondly and with a dry little look of disapproval at once* And Mitchell shot it too. *shakes her head, lips flicking* Or did you want to tell the story? With more illustrious details? *she wiggles an eyebrow* Arthur: *had merely rolled his eyes, waiting for the bottle to be passed again and tuning that out, having heard the story a hundred times--and besides it certainly wasn't a 'blessed' day in his mind, but he shakes his head, looking back* Pure. You'd think I'd have a better comeback after hearing that the nine hundredth time and still I get caught speechless with ..can't-believe-you-say-pure...ness. Leah: *snorts, still curled up and tightens her hand around his shirt, tilting her head back as Mitchell's hand moves through her hair* Well, that's a first, Arthur. *she breathes out, waiting a moment and says quieter, to him only* Mitchell...can I stay here tonight? I can apparate back early in the morning. Hector: Ah, lovely, thank yeh, m'darlin *he takes a hearty chug of the bottle, scrunching up his eyes and shaking his head as he exhales* Phew. Good stuff. *he leans up to pass it to Kenneth and then nods* Exactly. Wow. The birth of a legend. Mitchell: *he chuckles, remembering that day and then shaking his head* I climbed a tree and shot a dragon. Scraped his wing, not much to tell *shrugs, lips twitching* Not compared to the birth of a legend anyways. *laughs once* Kenneth: Scraped its wing, nicked its stomach, scratched his eyelid- *takes the bottle with a small thank you and then raises his eyebrows* which one is it really, Mitch? *keeps looking at him over the bottle as he takes a sip* Mitchell: *shrugs, ignoring it and then laughs at Arthur's comment* He's right though, Hector. Even as a baby, you weren't pure. Hector: *rolls his eyes* Because I've got dragon magic now, obviously. But I -was- pure. Mitchell: *snorts, raising a hand as if to say "my bad" and then turns back to look at Leah as she whispers only to him, his smile softening at her request before he nods slowly* Of course, luv. You're always welcome here. Leah: *chuckles once, twisting the shirt between her fingers before releasing him she said lightly while gesturing at Kenneth to pass to them too* It was nicking the wing if I remember right. *taking a quick sip of the bottle, smiling wider as she hears Mitchell in her ear, nodding at him even as she rubs her lips and merely continues speaking* And scaring the hell out of your family always, but. You're right, against birth of a legend... *she winks at him* Sonja: *grin flicks* Dragon magic? Impressive. *leaning back against the trunk of a tree, her gaze flicking over naturally at Kenneth as he puts the new shirt on, and then puts the blanket over herself.* Arthur: *piling up his pack himself to lay back, he's nodding* Righ', well, I'm thinking sleep sounds good m'self. Leah: *a bit wishful, as honestly she doesn't know if she could sleep, but she chuckles once* Close your eyes Arthur. Arthur: *just waves up at them without looking up, rolling a little closer to to the fire* Leah: *grin flicks and she turns back to Mitchell, quieter* Thanks, love. *she waits a moment, just locking her eyes with him.* I just...I don't want to leave you. *After a few minutes of quiet talking, Mitchell realized Leah had fallen asleep, and the pair curled up until the morning*

[fycourtera]

{chapter fourteen: 1} the outlaw babies

-&-

Mitchell: *with a floating blue ball of light above them to light their way in the night, they had made their way to private quarters in hope to find more valuable objects* Oh hello *he picked up a pocket watch, gold and flicked it open* Look at that! It's half past time I kept something for myself. *he pocketed it*

Kenneth: *he snorted, lips twitching in amusement at Mitchell's joke.* you think you're so funny. *he examined what looked like to be an engagement ring, pretty old too. He threw it in the bag; no exceptions*

Mitchell: I am quite hilarious. *Making jokes kept him from thinking about what might have been going on at that ball. To think, if he weren't a wanted criminal he might even be there wearing a suit...ha!* Find any dirty little secrets?

Kenneth: *Emptying the liquor cabinet into the bag* Does alcoholism count? *Actually, judging by the amount of alcohol at every manor they has been to that night, all nobles were* what exactly are you looking for?

Mitchell: Something. Anything. Any small clue or detail...we've searched three manors already, they can't all be innocent. And *he opens a drawer, searching* no one thinks someone will snoop around their bedrooms. Which means, there must be something lying around.

Arthur: *snickered under his breath and shakes his head* Mitch, if you have to ascertain your own joke, it wasn't funny.

Sonja: Yet Arthur-- *without looking up from the bookshelf where she was rummaging on tip toes to see if there was anything behind them (or any passages happened to open)* --you laughed.

Arthur: *shrugs a shoulder, lips flicking* Never claimed I had a high sense of humor. *claiming a few of the better bottles Kenneth unmasked and slipping it into his jacket, before putting the rest in the bag.*

Sonja: That much--*falls back on her heels, grinning*--was obvious. *looks at Mitchell, saying with a head tilt after a sniff, a bit amused* There is a different perfume in here than the vanity in the other room, but otherwise...

Arthur: *eye-roll* And they all claim we're the pigs.

Sonja: *lips flick* A real paragon of chivalry, are you?

Arthur: I'm not goin' around in armor pretending I am.

Sonja: Again. Obvious.

Arthur: Anyway, this is the...elder sons rooms, right? You expect he'd have his sisters perfume scent? *lips twitch* Well, s'pose it isn't out of the question bu-

Sonja: Elder son's? *surprised, going back to the shelf* ...but the records...*trails off not understanding and gestures for Mitchell to join her*

Mitchell: *he waved his hand dismissively; his friends were just oh so supportive of him. Really, couldn't ask for mates better than them*

Kenneth: *he chuckled under his breath as Arthur "helped him" relieve the liquor cabinet of it's contents and then grins at Sonja's bit of "detail"* I'm sure that's exactly what Mitchell meant.

Mitchell: Funny. We're all jokesters today then? Well, I certainly need help keeping a light mood. *He really hated the fact he couldn't stop thinking of who Leah might be dancing with; he should have broken her leg. Was it too much to hope her gay friend had escorted her?*

Kenneth: Arthur. *he sighed, shaking his head, wondering why he bothered with him and Mitch. Trying to keep them decent was a fool's task, given that they neeth: Arthur. *he sighed, shaking his head, wondering why he bothered with him and Mitch. Trying to keep them decent was a fool's task, given that they never had a decent day in their life* Just gotta make everything into a scandal don't ya?

Mitchell: *he looked back up at Sonja, curious as he approached her* What records? *he took the paper and read what she was pointing towards* Why would the Estbury's help pay for the ball? Faye has plenty of money...*could be something as simple as an act of good faith, but he was bothered by it* What part did they pay for?

Arthur: *at the reminder of needing a light mood he groans* I was trying to forget about tha'--

Sonja: *chuckles under her breath* Oh, Arthur. Karyn--

Arthur: *hand up immediately making a noise like up-pbut!!* I don't want any speculation, thank you Sonja, you did not see the dress she was wearing. Lucy's at least had shoulders. *pause* Well, a, shoulder--my point stands!

Sonja: Of course it does. *brow wiggling and she grins sideways at Kenneth* I think it is cute.

Arthur: Now--'ang on--

Sonja: *ignores and bends to show Mitchell* I don't know--look here...*brows furrow* ...that is an instrument isn't it?

Kenneth: *he rolls his eyes* Her shoulders were showing?! How dare she?! All the men should just get together and stone her! *pushes Arthur's shoulder* she's a grown woman.

Mitchell: *The subject of dresses was not one he wanted to linger on. Especially given where his thoughts would stray. He didn't fancy storming out to go crash the ball in a rage. Focusing his attention on the records Sonja held, he frowned* Yeah it is...*he looked back, conjuring another ball of light above him so he could search through documents* They hired the musicians...Hector said they got the musicians from town but I don't recognize most of these names. Georgina, Alcide, Harry-

Kenneth: Harry? *he stops his looting to turn back to them again* Harry Connor?

Mitchell: *looks up* Yeah. Why?

Kenneth: He's one of us, a muggleborn.

Arthur: *shoving him back* Yes, and she's at a party without any form of male escort except *he points at Mitchell* your nephew.

Sonja: *muttering under her breath* And yet the world goes on.

Arthur: *appears not to have heard* And it's my sister, with a room filled with drunk noble arses who will piss her off--what could possibly go wrong?

Sonja: *snorts and looks back, perusing with Mitchell, but not recognizing any of the names. His explanation of where they came cleared that up though; she wasn't from their town. Shrugging it off, she frowned at Kenneth's interjection. That was strange.*

Arthur: And--*distracted from Karyn*--oi, wait, hold on. Georgina? You mean newly made widow over the hill with th--*he cuts himself off just to gesture her "size", appreciatively*

Sonja: *drily* Charming.

Arthur: *winks* Hey, like I said: widow. And besides, since I did notice her, I can tell you she's one of us too...

Sonja: *biting bottom lip* They hired muggle-borns as musicians at a party supposedly to trumpet the betterment of relations between us?

Arthur: *shrug* Probably just another 'subtle' way they're showin' us our place innit?

Sonja: *not convinced, for her eyes are on Mitchell's expression* Maybe...

Mitchell: Oi. My nephew has a name, and d'you really think Hector would let anything happen to Karyn? They'll be fine...*only now he wasn't completely sure about that, but not exactly for the reason Arthur was worried about. There was something not right here* Some of these aren't from our town though...*muttering mostly to himself before biting his thumb*

Kenneth: Oh! Yeah, Georgina...Roy was her husband. Poor mate, he was cutting up a tree for lumber and it fell on him.

Mitchell: *frowning* Roy used to work for one of the noble families didn't he?...*snapping his fingers* The Dicks?

Kenneth: *biting back a laugh* Cox.

Mitchell: Close enough. *looks back up at them* Something's up. I got a bad feeling about this. I say we go check it out.

Kenneth: Did you forget were the four most wanted outlaws out there right now?

Mitchell: I don't care! Something's not right.

Arthur: Nah, he won't. *shrugs a shoulder having caught himself in a corner, and clears his throat non-deterred anyways. Something about the whole affair had been bothering him anyways--he didn't see why they would -want- to go spend an evening up at that court; why put themselves amongst those people? Of course his being a wanted criminal probably had something to do with it, but he just shrugged*

Sonja: *her eyes go wide a moment as she looks sideways at Kenneth* ...the tree fell on him?

Arthur: *he blinks, having utterly forgotten Roy had worked for the nobles, but says almost sadly--depressingly serious for him* Yeh, he was a good bloke.

Sonja: *nods, not liking the way this sounded either, but admittedly: she knew she was predisposed to conspiracy. Still, she had to ask.* Was Roy...*pause* ...one of us?

Arthur: Wha'--muggleborn? Nah. *headshakes and then stills hearing Mitchell* Say what?

Sonja: *nodding in uneasy agreement* ...I do not like this either.

Arthur: ...what are we supposed to do-- walk in? *looking at Mitchell incredulously* You gonna signal Leah somehow and get her to open the gate?

Sonja: *lips twitched (and her gaze went to Kenneth) at the mention of Leah, saying simply* They have how many unknown guests? Anyone can walk in anywhere-*simply*-if they choose the right moment.

Arthur: *incredulous--but, admittedly, seeing Karyn would put his mind at ease...so he said slowly* What exactly do you think is gonna happen?

Sonja: *pointedly* Faye could have hired any famous orchestra--and yet they go with muggleborns selected in town, paid for-not by the father of the family, but the son, who keeps the records in his private room?

Arthur: They're strange blokes, I didn't deny tha'--*incredulous*

Sonja: No. Not strange. Calculated. Perhaps it is nothing, but perhaps...

Arthur: *bites his lip* So we walk into the lion's jaw?

Sonja: *simply* Fully armed and poisonous. *nodding at Mitchell*

Arthur: Still sounds like an insane suicide, mates. *tiny pause* I'm in.

Kenneth: *nods solemnly* Yeah, tipped the wrong way. Rotten luck.

Mitchell: Or a clever murder.

Kenneth: *blinks* Murder? Mitch, why on Earth-

Mitchell: *cuts him off, knowing he couldn't explain himself to them. It was instinct. And they were leaving him restless* I dunno, but I hardly think a widow would go play at a ball right? And they're not even musicians!

Kenneth: *he bites on his bottom lip, exchanging a glance with Sonja for a moment, looking between all of them, weighing the facts, the speculation and agreeing, it was too strange to ignore. He smirked briefly at Arthur's answer and nodded himself before adding dryly* You know I don't do anything unless theres a chance I might be killed or grievously injured.

Mitchell: *Grinning at all of them, he nodded too* Great! *he tied the strings of his bag and threw it over his shoulder* Let's go!

Sonja: *bites her tongue, glad she wasn't the only one who had thought that sounded fishy--but if he wasn't muggleborn...?- she clears her throat* We need a plan.

Arthur: *hadn't even considered the fact none of them were musicians he knew of--and straightens, going for the shelf and grabbing a few more glass tumblers before spinning around* ...kay, now I'm set. *shrugs a shoulder* What plan could we have?

Sonja: *bites bottom lip, rolling her sleeves up and shakes her head*

Arthur: *jokingly* You have a ball-gown? *then gets promptly out of the way of Kenneth*

Sonja: *eye rolls, then looks almost proudly at Kenneth* No, but as far as instruments go...*smile flicks*

Mitchell: I got a plan.

Kenneth: *exhales, shaking his head* no you don't.

Mitchell: ...*sighs* No. I don't. *pursing his lips together, trying to think of one. Joking aside, it was best they didn't get recognized.*

Kenneth: *had immediately aimed a fist at Arthur's shoulder but the man had moved out of the way instinctively.* ...disguise ourselves as musicians?

Mitchell: *grins suddenly* Brilliant. I know how to play the lute.

Kenneth: Yeah, -horribly-. And how's it gonna disguise our faces?

Mitchell: *laughs* How many of them do you think actually know our faces? Besides, they consider themselves noble, they won't look twice at us.

Kenneth: What about this son who hired all of these muggleborns, this Estbury, he'd know.

Mitchell: *pauses a moment, slightly caught* ...look. All we need is a way inside, Estbury won't be one of the guards, and we can lay low once we're there!

Arthur: *instantly, under his breath* Half a plan. *wiggling his eyebrows, now standing behind Mitchell as Kenneth went to hit him.*

Sonja: *lips flick in pride and looks back down standing a bit nearer to Kenneth, thinking aloud* Musicians wear costumes..cloaks..robes...we can cover our face that way?

Arthur: *is going still as something Mitchell says sticks, and thinks with clenched teeth* ...Mitch. This Estbury who would know...you think he knows...*with an ugly and serious look*

Sonja: *turns back around, brow arching, but she says nothing for many moments and swallows tightly* ...we could...ask, him.

Arthur: *brows narrow* Ask?

Sonja: *politely, stiffly, eyes back on Kenneth* Ask.

Mitchell: Maybe funny hats to hide our funny faces *his lips twitch as he nodded along, liking Sonja's plan.* Good. We should have some stuff in our bags we can use as disguises, as long as we alter it enough so no one recognizes them.

Kenneth: *Stilling as Arthur brings up a point, he swallows before blinking in surprise and confusion* Ask. In the middle of the ball?

Mitchell: *wiggles his eyebrows as he had been looking at Sonja, and then raises his gaze, smirk wide* Mates, what do you say to a bit of kidnapping?

Kenneth: *incredulous* Kidnapping?

Mitchell: Well, maybe not kidnapping, but cornering, questioning, threatening and then getting our asses out of there before anyone notices...*shrugs* kidnapping is less of a mouthful though.

Sonja: *snorts and shakes her head a moment, arms on her sides* Do any of you know what he looks like?

Arthur: *nose wrinkles and stalls for a second* ...well we could ask for that too.

Sonja: Ask?

Arthur: Nah-like--actually ask--Karyn'd know. *nods at Mitch* Hector would. Or Leah. Find one of 'em first, then grab Estbury, then--*nods at Mitchell again* A bit of kidnapping ensues.

Sonja: *lips flick, saying lightly* We are all mad.

Arthur: *smirking too now, nodding just once* Well, I think we oughta at least thank 'im for his generous donation. *nodding at their bags* We don't want to be rude now.

Mitchell: *opens his mouth, intending to answer and then closes it again, tilting his head as he realized he doesn't know*

Kenneth: *he bites back laughter at Mitch's expression and turns to Arthur at his suggestion* How do we get their attention without getting anyone else's?

Mitchell: Part of the adventure! *Any reason to distract Leah from what was sure to be her false merriment, really. He was liking this plan more and more. He smirked at Arthur's comment* Then let's have at it, gents.

Kenneth: I can't wait for almost certain death and/or imprisonment. *his lips twitch* We need a back up plan.

Mitchell: Back up plan. *claps his hands together and then grins* We blow a hole in the side of manor and get our arses out of there.

Kenneth: *snorts* Leah wouldn't appreciate you blowing a hole in her uncle's house, Mitch.

Mitchell: She'd appreciate us dead even less. *shrugs*

Arthur: *nodding along with them, decidedly adding* Crashing the party it is then. To camp first to drop these off!

Sonja: *hoisting her own bag, reminding* And disguises and instruments. *smiling at Kenneth again, warmly as she hurries through the door as well*

Arthur: Yup. *looking at Mitchell, lips twitching at the pleased expression* Course this means I can check on Karyn too..

Sonja: How about that. *drily, and adds sweetly as she passes Mitchell* On Leah too.

Kenneth: *smiling back at Sonja, for a moment blind and deaf to anyone else, before Mitchell pushes him forward towards the door* Oi! I'm moving, I'm moving.

Mitchell: *though he grins at their plan, he was still wary of the information they had found, and worried something else might be afoot. Lips twitching in only mild annoyance at Sonja's addition, he adds cheerily* Fancy that, huh? I think this is my best plan as of yet.

Kenneth: *snorts* yours? *raises his eyebrows* Sonja found the records, and had the musicians idea, and you wouldn't even be suspect without my and Arthur's input *nods*

Mitchell: ...so?

Arthur: *shaking his head in amusement at Mitchell as they move* Let no one call you unwilling to receive praise and take credit, mate.

Sonja: *not really caring who gets credit (considering this could be/probably really was a bad idea...but Mitchell was right: there was something rotten here), she just snorts* I don't think anyone was that oblivious, honestly, Arthur. To say that.

Arthur: *snorts* Oh, people are more oblivious than tha'--surely. *eye roll*

Sonja: *nodding absently after a moment, having hung back to walk side by side with Kenneth and grins* Meaner, too, aye.

Arthur: *snorts* Goes without saying bu' o' course--*slaps his hand on Mitchell's shoulder, squeezing and the other goes over his heart* I would never. *promptly ducks*-