Her Stolen Grace

Author's Note: First I'd like to thank any and everyone who decided to read my very first story! I will forewarn you, if you don't like slow buildups my work probably won't be to your liking. So, if a quick "arrival" is what you're looking for, perhaps you should look elsewhere. Those who decide to stick it out, I promise good things will come to those who wait. I'm still playing around with where I want this series to go, as this is a rewritten version of another work I had laying around. We'll see how it goes. Thanks, again, for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoy!

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With a sharp whistle, the arrowhead whizzed by Amora's head, cutting into her cheek and just narrowly missing her eye. Before she even had a chance to react, he was upon her, knife at her throat, her arms conveniently trapped behind her. She cursed.

"And were you trying to kill me?" she spat as she licked the blood that had run into her mouth. Levan chuckled lightly.

"If I wanted to kill you, little girl, you'd be dead." It was true and she knew it. Levan tapped her left thigh with his unarmed hand, indicating she drop the bow she held. With a scoff, she did as she was bid and waited for him to pat her down.

"You know," Amora started, discreetly trying to reach for her hidden dagger, "you shouldn't call me 'little'. I've been of age for more than a month now. The law says I'm a woman." He had finished with her ankles and was starting to frisk her at the top. Unabashedly, he cupped her full breasts and muttered more to himself than her,

"No, I think it's these that make you a woman." She would have responded in kind but she was preoccupied with making sure Levan didn't notice her attempt to reach her blade. She'd hidden it well. As he continued patting her down, pulling out the several various weapons she'd tried to keep on her, Amora managed to press her body against the tree in front of them, the arrow that grazed her dangerously close to her face now.

She slipped a finger inside the waistband of her trousers, then another. As she reached down slowly, she felt the handle of the dirk that she'd fastened to the back of her thigh, just below her buttocks. Levan was preoccupied with checking her shirt and jacket to notice. She only had to reach just a little bit further...

"Lay one finger on that knife, little girl, and you'll lose the finger."

Amora froze. How did he know? She sighed and took her hands out of the waistband of her pants. Levan spun her around quickly, pressing her face forward into the tree. He reached into her ill-fitting trousers and pulled the dagger from its tiny hilt with ease. Turning her back around, she watched as he examined it. Levan whistled, impressed.

"That's a fine blade." He tested the weight between his hands as Amora watched with disdain. "I think I'll be keeping this one."

"You can't!" she blurted quickly. Levan narrowed his eyes as her with a mischievous grin. Amora lowered hers in quiet shame, "it's Dustin's. He'll know I took it."

She had no regrets in taking the knife from the knight. The issue was that Amora had planned to be successful in her escape, so as not have to reap the repercussions of her thievery. Dustin wouldn't take kindly in being so easily pickpocketed, especially by her. Levan laughed as he re-inspected the knife.

"You managed to get this off Dustin? You are a clever one, indeed." He chuckled, "Yes, I most certainly will be keeping this one." He noticed her face and softened his expression slightly. "Don't worry so much, child. It's not like he can hurt you." He moved to bind her arms behind her with rope. When he was finished, Levan retrieved his arrow from the tree, picked up her bow, and they began their walk back towards Nightwall.

"You hurt me." Amora tried after a few moments of quiet. Levan feigned concern, looking over her as they walked.

"Where?" Amora rolled her eyes and jutted out her cheek towards him, indicating the cut his arrow had caused. Levan shrugged at her accusation and kept forward.

"It's only a scratch. You could have gotten it long before I retrieved you," he said simply.

"It's fresh!" huffed Amora haughtily, "it'll scar..." Levan ignored her still, tightening his grip on her arm as he steered her through the woods back towards the castle.

"Just means you're clumsy, nothing more."

Amora sucked her teeth in resignation. There was no use arguing. It was his word over hers and she knew hers held little to no bearing in the punishment to come. She sighed and let it be. The rest of the time they walked in silence, sans for Levan's annoyingly chipper whistling, as night approached.

Back at Nightwall, Levan personally escorted Amora to her room where Isabel and Vareena, her handmaidens, awaited her. Amora rolled her eyes as the two curtsied for Levan while he cut her bondages. After setting her free, Levan smiled at her, which she ignored, winked to her ladies and left the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Isabel and Vareena went to work prepping her room and attire for supper, as night had fallen. Amora said nothing to the two as she walked past them, heading towards the door to her bathchamber. To her surprise, it was locked. She turned around to find Isabel behind her.

"You aren't to take any more baths alone, milady," the girl couldn't be but a year or two older than Amora, but she spoke softly and timidly, like a child. Amora was perplexed.

"Why?" she asked a bit too aggressively, Isabel recoiled slightly but it was Vareena who answered.

"Why do you think?" she gibed, not looking out from the wooden closet where she was picking out a dress for Amora. "Did you really expect your actions to not have consequences?" Vareena, on the other hand, was the opposite of Isabel. Always quick to let Amora know what was on her mind, whether she wanted to hear it or not. Amora had always secretly been jealous of Vereena's comely features. Though she considered Vareena pig faced, due to her slightly upward shaped nose, everything else about her was harsh but striking. Amora watched as Vareena plopped five dresses down on the bed, debating on which one to dress her in. She spoke again, not bothering to look up at her.

"Isabel and I received five lashings each for your treachery," Vareena sneered, finally casting her livid gaze upon her. Amora's stomach churned, regret digging a deep pit into her chest. It was unfair that they be punished because of her. Isabel especially, didn't deserve it, the gentle mannered thing. However, one word struck Amora the wrong way.

"Treachery? Is it treacherous for a prisoner to want to escape her prison?" she shot back at Vareena. All the lashings in the world couldn't curb her mouth.

"Oh, you're a prisoner, are you? Such a dungeon you've been locked away in," Vareena retorted sarcastically, gesturing towards the grandeur of the room, "being fed at least twice a day, waited on hand and foot. Oh, and jewels for shackles and chains!" Isabel, surprised at Vareena's brashness, attempted to intervene.

"Vareena, you shouldn't—"

"How dare you?" Amora seethed, her blood boiling, "I am not here by choice. Whether it be in rotting away in cell or some high lord's castle, a prisoner is a prisoner all the same."

"Well, that's the difference now, isn't it? Because from where I'm standing, most would gladly be in your position, be it by choice or not."

"What do you have against me? I didn't ask for this, Vareena. Five months ago, I was doing exactly what you're doing now. Worse even," Amora attempted to defend herself once more but Vareena would not let her have it.

"But you're not doing exactly what I'm doing now, are you? No. Here you are, being rightly looked after and instead of enjoying the lavish life practically handed to you, you try to escape? Ungrateful wretch." Vareena cut her eyes once more at Amora and then turned back to the dresses before her. Although, for the most part, Amora agreed that she'd been treated better than most, it offended her that Vareena assumed that she was being pampered. Whether Vareena was aware or not, pampering was the last thing that Amora was receiving.

"You know nothing of what I have been through. Nothing of what I've endured. The life I lived before this...you would have never been able to survive. So, don't you dare. Talk to me like this again and I'll make sure your master hears of it." This was the first time Amora had stood up to Vareena so brazenly and her voice wavered, nevertheless, she kept strong. Vareena hesitated for a moment but caught her bluff.

"You'd be wise to remember that he is your master, too. Thankfully, the only difference between you and me is that I only have to draw your baths, change your sheets, and make sure you're generally presentable. And now," Vareena produced a key from the pocket of her dress, "you will do that on my time." She smiled nastily, placing the key back from where she'd retrieved it. Vareena looked Amora up and down, silently pointing out the girl's dirty face and attire. She pointed to the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Pick one, I don't care. You'll get your bath later. I have other things to attend to." Both Vareena and Isabel looked at one another in disbelief. Isabel finally spoke,

"Vareena, she'll be punished for going to supper dirty, in addition to..." the quiet girl didn't finish and looked down at the floor. Vareena shrugged as she began to leave the room.

"She refused to take a bath," she declared simply, indicating to Isabel that she follow. The shy girl bowed apologetically to Amora and trailed after her senior. As Vareena opened the door to the room to exit, she finished matter-of-factly with a question, "Who do you think he'll believe, the girl who's tried to escape four times? Or me?" With that, the door slammed shut behind her, a dissatisfying click of the lock echoing behind.

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Levan's jolly whistles could be heard echoing down the hall of Nightwall's lower floor. It was empty, save for the two guardsmen who stood outside the room. Dustin was irritated. He'd been called to the lower chamber by Levan—Lord Vander, upon his return to the castle and had been forced to wait. He hated calling the man by title. Dustin had interacted with many a lord and Levan did not act like any of them. As heir to such a prominent house such as Vander, Dustin expected that Levan have a bit more refinement to him. He was too blithe and relaxed, and lacked that air of self-importance that other lords possessed.

It was a sign of immaturity, Dustin had determined, after his first few interactions with Levan. He was simply too young to appreciate his role as his family's heir, let alone the King's Confidence. That was the only reasonable explanation for the young man's lack of polish. Levan's song could be heard approaching the door. The knight shook off his impatience and stood to receive him.

To his surprise, Levan was not alone. Dustin quickly stumbled into a bow as his king entered the lower chamber behind the young lord. Though they were about equal in height, the difference between the two was hard to miss. Levan was strongly built but lean. He kept his hair cropped just atop his ears and had a sense of eerie joyance about him. The King, however, was completely the opposite.

King William walked in with an air of confident métier. He didn't have to command the room, he was the room. In name, physical stature, and demeanor. Dustin quickly thought to himself that Levan could stand to learn a thing or two from the King, watching as the young lord propped himself up against the far wall lackadaisically. William nodded to his head guardsman and went to stare out the window. Every moment, that Ser Dustin Hayworth could recall, that he was ever in his King's presence it was always nearly impossible to determine his mood. This instance was no different and, of course, made him nervous as he shifted uncomfortably in his doublet.

After a long silence, the king calmly acknowledged the knight.

"The girl escaped, yet again." The King's comment was even toned, nothing indicating he was cross. However, Dustin felt a sudden need to defend himself.

"She is...very clever, your grace. Luckily, we were able to locate and recover her before she truly managed to leave the grounds," he tested. He could have sworn that he'd heard Levan snort from the other side of the room - he ignored it. The King smiled nodding in concurrence.

"She is clever," William repeated casually. Making his way back over to the center of the room, where Dustin stood, the King pondered once more. "Even cleverer, perhaps, than you?" William raised an eyebrow to his stout faced knight in earnest.

"Of course not!" Dustin sputtered incredulously, quickly remembering, "Y-your Majesty."

"Using the steam-windows from the bathchamber is certainly clever, is it not? Considering how well fortified her chambers are," the King pointed out.

"Well...for a girl of her stature, I suppose so..."

"And, managing to evade detection throughout the whole of the west grounds, wounding a groundsman, and making it into the Nightswood. That is a considerable, novel achievement for her, no?" Red faced, Dustin realized the nature of his summoning to the lower chamber.

"Your grace," he tried, "it would have been highly inappropriate to have men stationed in the bathchamber of a lady." The King placed a gentle hand on Dustin's shoulder, a light smile coming to his lips.

"Of course. Just as it would have been inappropriate to have men stationed outside the bathchamber, as well." Dustin knitted his eyebrows in confusion. He hadn't thought to put men outside. The girl's chambers were on the third floor of the castle, with thistlehedge just below it. There was never any indication that she'd ever try to climb the steam-windows. Much less, jump from them. Of course, it was this lack of thought, that probably led to this unexpected meeting with his King.

"It-it was not a foreseeable event—" Dustin started but William interrupted him.

"Your sole job is to ensure that she is where she's supposed to be when she's supposed to be there," the King remarked coolly. Though again, it was hard for him to read William's expression, Dustin could see the hardness in the King's eyes.

The knight tried another approach: deflection. "It took...Lord Vander nearly two and a half hours to retrieve her!"

Just as soon as the words left his mouth, the King's hand gripped the entirety of Dustin's face. Pushing him backwards, he felt his body slam into the wall behind them, his skull making abrupt impact with it. Dustin wheezed as the King gripped his jaw tightly, taking a moment to look into his wide eyes filled with alarm.

"Levan's job was to find the girl and bring her back. Your job was to make sure that needn't happen in the first place." The King reminded him softly. His tranquil demeanor only served to petrify Dustin more.

"I can forgive mistakes," continued William, "However, the one thing I will not tolerate is carelessness." Before Dustin realized what was happening, he felt a sharp pain in his upper abdomen. He looked down to see a knife had been plunged deep into him to the hilt. The king stepped back and looked at the knight unremorsefully. Horror creeped across Dustin's face as he recognized the DH carved into the sides of the grip of the blade. The king had stabbed him with his missing dagger from the week before.

Confused, Dustin looked to his monarch, "Your grace?" he managed to croak, his hands clutching his midsection around the knife.

"How she managed to relieve a seasoned knight, such as yourself, of his dagger, is beyond me," remarked the King casually. He ignored Dustin's whimpers and made his way towards the door. Levan perking up from where he stood perched a few feet away. William stopped for a moment and turned to Dustin who was still grasping recent events.

"Should you survive," theorized the King, "I expect you'll have learned to keep better track of your armaments." With that, the king left as Dustin pitifully began to sink to the floor. Levan walked over to the head-guardsman, roughly handling him to get him to his feet. He ignored the knight's sharp cries of pain.

"Up you go," sang Levan melodically, "Let's get you to Restor Terrick." Dustin nodded hazily as he leaned on Levan, trailing him with small steps, as to not agitate the blade in his inside him. Too much movement, he understood, and he could die.

Levan began to whistle a slow tune and stopped to remark optimistically, "You're a lucky man, Hayworth. Seems he was in a good mood."

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Amora walked in silence as she followed the rhythmic shuffling of the knights escorting her to the upper apartments. Once more, she futilely attempted to use the sleeve of her dress to scrub some of the dirt from her arms and face. It did nothing. She would need a bath. He would not be pleased.

The party approached the King's apartment's and the guard standing outside of it opened the door for her to go in. The knights parted themselves as to let her through. She noted that Dustin was not there to escort her this time. She thought it odd but left the contemplations alone. Reluctantly, she entered the King's chambers, the door closing behind her.

King William was already sitting at his personal dining table, set for two, reading parchment letters. He did not immediately look up at her, so she gawked hesitantly down at the table noticing that he had not touched his food. She fumbled with a deep bow that the King seemingly did not notice, and stood awkwardly in front of the table across him. The servants standing on the far side of the room did not look at, nor acknowledge her either.

Amora remained where she was, embarrassed, waiting for permission to sit down. After a pregnant delay, the King finally shuffled the letters into a neat pile and set them aside. He looked up at her, examining her attire. She watched carefully as he scanned her from head to toe, almost as if drinking her in. The slow examination only enflamed her embarrassment further; she felt her cheeks flush hotly and looked down to the floor with chagrin.

The King stood, causing her to jump slightly, as he crossed the length of the table to her. As he came upon her, she tensed, hoping she didn't look as filthy as she felt.

"You haven't bathed," he remarked. It wasn't quite a statement, but wasn't quite a question either. Amora instinctually moved to open her mouth and justify her actions, however she immediately recalled the events of the day. Though she hated Vereena, Amora still felt she'd been unjustly punished for her actions. She resigned and simply shook her head. The king raised an eyebrow.

"First, you attempt escape. Second, you wound an innocent groundsworker," the king tenderly grazed his thumb lightly across the dried cut on her cheek and continued, "Third, you injure yourself. Then, you arrive to my chambers dirty and unwashed for supper." He tsked a few times as if to scold her, then sighed and returned to his seat.

"What am I to do with you?" he asked more to himself than her.

She replied anyway, "Let me free?" The king chuckled.

"Why would I do that?" He looked to her in earnest for a response. She took a moment to think about it.

"If I am so much trouble for you, that would seem the reasonable thing to do," she responded carefully. "There's no logical reason for you to keep me here. I do nothing but provoke you."