Again, this is told from Liv's perspective. Please forgive her occasional language, she wasn't raised very well. This is after she has stolen the ring off of Drake and successfully made her way out of the governor's mansion, and she and Finch are in his room at a dockside inn making arrangements about payment.
“There,” he remarked cheerfully. “You certainly do not disappoint. Very well then. You come and lay the ring on my chest and I’ll lay down the money and we trade. Fair?”
“Fair,” I replied, moving to one side of the chest at the foot of his bed.
He moved to the other. The ring, cool and smooth, slid readily off my hand as I bent and placed it on the chest. A few golden coins clinked to the polished wood only inches from my fingertips. I placed my hand readily over them. I had no use for this ring.
Finch was reaching for it when-- the door swung open. We turned abruptly, and I used the motion to sweep my coins into my apron before my jaw dropped. Reese, his rapier at his side, and Kutch behind him, armed with his sabre, stood in the doorway.
“Hello, what have we here?” Finch asked softly, standing.
“Beg pardon, I want nothing with you,” Reese answered, before turning to me. “Liv, what in the bloody blazes are you doing here?”
“Me?” I sputtered. “What in hell are you doing here?”
“What do you think? Looking for you!”
“I don’t need finding.”
“Oh aye? Who knows what may have happened to you! Who knows...” here he paused and looked hard at Finch, “what you have done.”
“My dear... concerned older brother and,” Finch looked past to Kutch, “concerned smaller brother, I can assure you, nothing has happened to this your sister, friend, acquaintance, what have you, only a bit of business which has hardly hurt her. But I have no need to justify myself before you, these are my lodgings, honestly paid for.”
“How honestly did you come by the pay?” Reese asked bluntly.
Finch smiled.
“I catch your drift, lad. But what’d you say to that? You’re too young to be any sort of harman, and if you were, you’d likely be inefficient. But, seeing as this girl you’re so worried about happens to be a regular napper, I’d bet you’re on the odd side of the law as often as not.”
“As I said, I’m only here for the girl,” Reese stated.
He reached for my wrist. I tugged it away.
“So what, you’re going to haul me out like a child?”
“It is my job to protect you, Liv,” he told me.
His tone was the same. But there was hurting in his brown eyes. I tried to ignore it. I pretended it wasn’t there.
“I don’t need your protection. As a matter of fact... we’re better off without it. Reese, I can make money, so much faster, so much easier--”
“How much?” Kutch asked, raising his eyebrows in interest.
Reese elbowed him.
“A lot more than you’d make a day at the docks,” I went on. “More than a week’s wages, in all actuality.”
“Probably more than a month’s,” Finch added.
“You stay out of it,” Reese told him. “This is none of your concern.”
“Well, it’s taking place in my room, not to be rude.”
“I would love to take this elsewhere, but she’s making this very difficult and I’d rather not walk through Kingston with her over my shoulder.”
I gave a little cry of angry disbelief and struck at him with my open palm. He caught my wrist and I struggled to make him release me.
“Take your hands off me, you hypocrite!” I hissed, wrenching away. “You can talk all you like of a better future for us, but you won’t let me make it any easier for us! You won’t let me help the others.”
“I won’t let you hurt yourself and I won’t let you hurt this family,” Reese shot back, fire behind his gaze. “Who have you been stealing from?”
“No one who’ll hurt for it!” I snarled, hoping to quell the threatening tears with anger. “I’ve taken nothing anyone could even miss. A trifle for a rich man. Entire meals for Buskin and Ascanio.”
“What have you taken?” Reese asked.
I pushed my hair out of my face, composing myself. Don’t let him rile you. Don’t look into his eyes. They make you feel things you don’t want to feel... angry, vulnerable...
“Nothing but a trinket. A pretty, worthless little trinket.”
“That there?” Kutch inquired, pointing at the ring, still sitting on the chest.
Finch had not picked it up. He made a move for it now, but Reese was there before him, whipping out his rapier and sticking the point through the ring, nicking into the wood of the chest. He flicked it into his hand and turned it seal upwards.
His eyes widened.
When nothing was said, Kutch stepped forward.
“Reese... we ha’ Liv noo,” he murmured. “Le’s be off then?”
“Wait...” Reese said quietly. “Where did you get this?”
“I’m sorry, lad,” Finch said brightly, “but if the bailiffs come poking around for property stolen from so-and-so, I don’t want you to be able to supply address and, more importantly, description. And I’ll be having my ring back.”
Reese’s fist closed around the ring and his intense stare focused on Finch.
“Tell me where you got it.”
“Can’t. Won’t. Very bad idea. Return it. That would be a good idea.”
“Tell me.”
“Or what?”
“Or else I won’t give it back to you.”
Finch leaned his head back, one corner of his mouth raising in a humored smile.
“You honestly think I can’t take it?” he asked, casually drawing his sword.
“You’re going to risk dying rather than give me a name?” Reese demanded, raising his.
“I don’t believe I’m risking much at all, really. I don’t really want to hurt you and I’m fairly assured that you won’t hurt me.”
They faced each other, swords drawn, poised like two sturdy trees, entrenched in roots, stubborn, unmovable.
“Boys!” I yelled, trying to move between them.
Before I got two steps, I felt hands like iron about my elbows tugging me backwards, into the doorway. I was furious-- why was Kutch not letting me prevent this?
“No, stop! Can’t you try to reason this out?”
I watched as Finch lunged, his blade aiming, not quite for Reese’s heart, but for somewhere on his torso. Reese’s arm was perfectly straight, his footing nor his stance shifted in the slightest, but his wrist pivoted, drawing a C in the air, redirecting Finch’s attack down and away, and then lightly, by inches, the rest of the arm came into play, striking aside an blow from the left, striking aside a blow from the right, and slapping down a second lunge. Then-- everything was let loose. The trees became blades of grass.
And then action commences. I have a lot of fun writing fight scenes. What do you think? Should I post the ensuing fight?
God bless!
