A Ko-fi reward for Anonymous who asked for McSombra set in the King and Thief AU. Thanks for the hot cocoa, doll! I hope you enjoy this one time the King steals something from the Thief.
McSombra. King and Thief AU. 500 word drabble.
A sapphire sits in a rope of gold, begging for her to snatch it up from it’s pedestal. She takes a moment to admire the crafted art before spying the king.
He stands at the dark window, one arm resting on the stone as heavy thoughts overtake his expression. He’s far away, but he’ll come back in a moment.
The thief drops down from the ceiling with a near silent thud. It causes the king to turn and peer into the darkness. He beams after a moment. A king shouldn’t be that excited to see a thief who’s after his own treasure.
“You stay awake most nights for someone who needs to run a kingdom in the day.” she ponders. They stand in equal distance from the necklace, but he doesn’t tense in anticipation. The king only smiles easily as they both slowly approach the center of the room.
“Sleep is not my ally at the moment,” he says lightly, “as for you, I don’t suppose you’d care if I change up our little confrontation, just for tonight?”
He can be as evasive as she when he wants to be, but the dark circles under his eyes tell the truth. She raises her brow, but he can only see the curiosity shimmering along her irises The cloth hiding her is as black as the night.
“What do you have in mind?”
He lifts a sword from his belt, a noble’s weapon, and turns the hilt in his grasp. Their stances bring them to be feet apart. The blue jewel sparkles brightly as McCree tosses her the sword. She catches it daintily.
“Do you know how to use a sword?” he asks, slipping another from his waist. No doubt his own.
Twisting the blade, she stares down its long, sharp edge for a moment.
“I prefer daggers,” she speaks honestly, but mimics McCree’s stance. He holds his weapon with both hands. She shifts to balance on the balls of her feet. “But I can make do.”
“Shall we then?” he asks.
He shouldn’t be smiling so, but he is. She doesn’t dare acknowledge the excitement in her chest. Circling the other, a dance begins with swords and teeth.
They clash, and strike the swords together like lightning and thunder. Locked blades force them to come together, peering around their blades. The king sees it only as a chance to flirt. The thief keeps up with his words, but his skill in the sword is experienced.
After a risky strike towards his chest, the king slides his sword down the length of her’s, twists, and flings her weapon from her grasp.
He lowers the sword at her empty hands. “I claim victory.”
The thief doesn’t say a word as her eyes hold sharply behind her mask.
“Can I know your name, thief?” he asks, genuine.
She doesn’t hesitant to shift her gaze, insuring their isolation in the room before inviting him closer. Her hand gesture brings him to holster his sword, and come to where her mouth can breathe into his ear.
The swift movement of her dagger to his throat is as dangerous as the night, but the king doesn’t flinch. If anything, he holds even more impressed by the small blade in her grasp.
“You are unfathomable,” she says, but turns away. The king lets her go.
She hates that she stops to look back once.
“Olivia.”
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