Stand and Deliver - Part 3/4little_elfieSeptember 24 2014, 02:55:14 UTC
Stand and Deliver
Part Three
They rode in silence, the highwayman and his hostage, his accomplice and their spoils.
Agnes was shivering. It was cold and she was afraid. The Hawk slowed the horse they shared, releasing the reins for a moment in order to sweep his cloak around her shoulders, pulling her against him. They rode on for a little while before she found her voice.
"Are you taking me to your lair?"
He laughed, "I am not a fool, my lady. Given the opportunity, you would bring every soldier in Paris to my door within an hour of your release."
"I would," Agnes agreed vehemently, "I would come to see you hang and laugh when the trapdoor opened beneath your feet."
"I believe you."
They dismounted within a small copse of tree. The Hawk swept Agnes from the saddle and carried her into the clearing, where the hunchbacked man was building a fire. Agnes huddled beside the flames miserably, eyeing her captors as they saw to their mounts and began to divide the night's takings into small parcels upon their persons and within the saddlebags. A handful of her friends and acquaintances had also been victims of this man but, to her knowledge, not one of them had been abducted by him, as she had.
Why? Why me?
She forced herself to ask the question when he finally came to rest by side, the firelight illuminating his severe features. He was not a handsome man, or a young one. His hair was grey, his face sharply contoured. Nothing like Phoebus, that golden lion of a man. But...he smiled when she questioned his motives and she saw the beauty in his face. A savage and cruel sort of beauty, like that of a bird of prey.
"Why did you take me? You've never taken a hostage before and, besides, you know my father will seek revenge. The soldiers are probably out there already, searching for me...and for you."
"Certainly. Your father is not a wise man, I fear. But you..." Agnes flinched as he reached out to run a finger across her cheek, her lips. He smiled again, "You are the most precious jewel I have ever had the pleasure of purloining, my dear. Those eyes of yours...like the finest emeralds. Esmeralda."
"You promised to set me free."
"You're free now, here with me. You've never been free until now...and you will never be free again, once you are home, once you are married."
His words resonated within her, into that deep place of yearning in her heart. She struggled for a moment, fighting him, fighting herself...but his hands were at her breasts, his lips at her throat...she was free, for the first time in her life.
"You're not free. You're mine. From now until the end of time, you're mine."
Eyes blazing with sudden fury, Agnes slipped from his grasp, panting harshly as she scrambled away. He smirked at her distress. The remainder of her time in his company was spent in sullen silence and, when he finally released her with a sardonic bow, she only scowled and demanded a pistol.
"Do you mean to execute me?"
"I would not feel safe on the road without a weapon," Agnes retorted.
"You are a pistol, my lady. Woe betide the villains of the road if they happen across you in the dark tonight."
But he handed over the pistol anyway, catching her by the elbows when she reached out to take it. She writhed and kicked, cursing as he pulled her into a fierce embrace and pressed a kiss against her temple.
Stand and Deliver - Part 4/4little_elfieSeptember 24 2014, 04:11:39 UTC
Stand and Deliver
Part Four
The next few months passed in a blur for Agnes. The ranks of the aristocracy buzzed with gossip following her escapade with the infamous highwayman. She was besieged at every function, her friends clamouring to hear the story again and again. Phoebus and her father were furious, vowing to see the Hawk hanged for his insolence. Her mother thrived upon the attention, embellishing the tale with little horrors for the delight of her peers. Agnes floated through February and March in a daze, remembering the highwayman's voice as he whispered in her ear...
"You're mine."
April. Spring in Paris. The King was holding a masquerade ball at the Palais de Louvre. Agnes and her friends talked for hours over tea and cards in the weeks beforehand, discussing their costumes excitedly. The entire court would be there, their faces covered with ornate masks until midnight, when the music and dancing would come to a brief cessation and the King would cry out, "Unmask!"
It was a perfect evening. A light breeze, warm and fragrant, drifted through the city as Agnes, dressed as a gypsy queen, arrived at the Palais de Louvre. She would be much admired tonight - an enchantress in a daring gown of red silk, a star-spangled veil across her face, gems caught in her ebony curls. Phoebus held her arm as they were announced, looking dashing in his golden armour and a visor-like mask. Her parents were here somewhere, along with her friends and everyone else they knew, in disguise. Agnes was happy to mingle, sipping wine and trying to spot her peers amongst the crowd. It became rather stifling within an hour, no matter how frantically she fanned herself. She slipped into the gardens...and stepped into the path of a man in the costume and wig of a judge, a stern-featured mask held over his face.
"Pardon me, sir."
"With pleasure, Esmeralda."
Agnes gasped at the sound of that voice. It was the Hawk. He was here. She grabbed his arm, dragging him into the shadows. He allowed himself to be tugged along behind her, chuckling as she hissed at him, in fury and terror. He dropped his mask. He was grinning.
"What are you doing here? You could be caught at any moment!"
"Why, Esmeralda..." Agnes pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to silence him. He wriggled away, laughing, "I could almost believe that you care for me."
She was glad for the veil. He couldn't see the flush rising over her face.
"What are you doing here, Hawk?"
"Claude. My name is Claude. And to answer your question, I have just pulled off the greatest heist in history, my love."
Agnes gaped at him until he smirked and pulled aside his robes to reveal a bulging sack of treasures at his belt. She couldn't believe it. He had robbed the Palais!
"Quasimodo is waiting for me beyond the walls. He has the horses. Three horses."
She caught his meaning and her heart skipped a beat. Did she dare? She swallowed, choosing to push the idea to the back of her mind for the moment. There were more pressing matters just now...
"How are you going to escape? You can't mean to climb the walls?"
"Of course not. There's soldiers posted along the entire perimeter. I came in through the front door and I intend to leave the same way. It's a little more risky now, with the goods on my person, but I have a plan."
"Good luck with that."
"I don't need luck..." Claude smirked, grasping Agnes by the hips until she was pressed against him, "I need you. I need you to smuggle me out under those lovely skirts of yours, Esmeralda."
Agnes pulled away, eyes flashing, "You're mad! I won't do it!"
He reached out, tugged her veil aside, kissed her hard on the lips until she was gasping for breath and then...and then...
And then her legs were around him, her back was to the wall, he was between her thighs and then inside of her, with one thrust. Agnes cried out and he kissed her, muffling the sound. She pounded on his shoulders with her fists, whimpering as he fucked her, fucked her hard until they came together, bittersweet and strange and wonderful...
Claude lowered her to the ground gently, holding her close as she trembled, unstable in the wake of their passion. He kissed her again.
Re: Stand and Deliver - Part 4/4afterandalasiaSeptember 30 2014, 20:56:05 UTC
*bows* I always love your Fresme stuff, you know that. The fire of your Esmeralda is particularly marvellous here - I should have known that she'd have her own pistol to pull on Frollo.
Part Three
They rode in silence, the highwayman and his hostage, his accomplice and their spoils.
Agnes was shivering. It was cold and she was afraid. The Hawk slowed the horse they shared, releasing the reins for a moment in order to sweep his cloak around her shoulders, pulling her against him. They rode on for a little while before she found her voice.
"Are you taking me to your lair?"
He laughed, "I am not a fool, my lady. Given the opportunity, you would bring every soldier in Paris to my door within an hour of your release."
"I would," Agnes agreed vehemently, "I would come to see you hang and laugh when the trapdoor opened beneath your feet."
"I believe you."
They dismounted within a small copse of tree. The Hawk swept Agnes from the saddle and carried her into the clearing, where the hunchbacked man was building a fire. Agnes huddled beside the flames miserably, eyeing her captors as they saw to their mounts and began to divide the night's takings into small parcels upon their persons and within the saddlebags. A handful of her friends and acquaintances had also been victims of this man but, to her knowledge, not one of them had been abducted by him, as she had.
Why? Why me?
She forced herself to ask the question when he finally came to rest by side, the firelight illuminating his severe features. He was not a handsome man, or a young one. His hair was grey, his face sharply contoured. Nothing like Phoebus, that golden lion of a man. But...he smiled when she questioned his motives and she saw the beauty in his face. A savage and cruel sort of beauty, like that of a bird of prey.
"Why did you take me? You've never taken a hostage before and, besides, you know my father will seek revenge. The soldiers are probably out there already, searching for me...and for you."
"Certainly. Your father is not a wise man, I fear. But you..." Agnes flinched as he reached out to run a finger across her cheek, her lips. He smiled again, "You are the most precious jewel I have ever had the pleasure of purloining, my dear. Those eyes of yours...like the finest emeralds. Esmeralda."
"You promised to set me free."
"You're free now, here with me. You've never been free until now...and you will never be free again, once you are home, once you are married."
His words resonated within her, into that deep place of yearning in her heart. She struggled for a moment, fighting him, fighting herself...but his hands were at her breasts, his lips at her throat...she was free, for the first time in her life.
"You're not free. You're mine. From now until the end of time, you're mine."
Eyes blazing with sudden fury, Agnes slipped from his grasp, panting harshly as she scrambled away. He smirked at her distress. The remainder of her time in his company was spent in sullen silence and, when he finally released her with a sardonic bow, she only scowled and demanded a pistol.
"Do you mean to execute me?"
"I would not feel safe on the road without a weapon," Agnes retorted.
"You are a pistol, my lady. Woe betide the villains of the road if they happen across you in the dark tonight."
But he handed over the pistol anyway, catching her by the elbows when she reached out to take it. She writhed and kicked, cursing as he pulled her into a fierce embrace and pressed a kiss against her temple.
"Until we meet again, Esmeralda."
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Part Four
The next few months passed in a blur for Agnes. The ranks of the aristocracy buzzed with gossip following her escapade with the infamous highwayman. She was besieged at every function, her friends clamouring to hear the story again and again. Phoebus and her father were furious, vowing to see the Hawk hanged for his insolence. Her mother thrived upon the attention, embellishing the tale with little horrors for the delight of her peers. Agnes floated through February and March in a daze, remembering the highwayman's voice as he whispered in her ear...
"You're mine."
April. Spring in Paris. The King was holding a masquerade ball at the Palais de Louvre. Agnes and her friends talked for hours over tea and cards in the weeks beforehand, discussing their costumes excitedly. The entire court would be there, their faces covered with ornate masks until midnight, when the music and dancing would come to a brief cessation and the King would cry out, "Unmask!"
It was a perfect evening. A light breeze, warm and fragrant, drifted through the city as Agnes, dressed as a gypsy queen, arrived at the Palais de Louvre. She would be much admired tonight - an enchantress in a daring gown of red silk, a star-spangled veil across her face, gems caught in her ebony curls. Phoebus held her arm as they were announced, looking dashing in his golden armour and a visor-like mask. Her parents were here somewhere, along with her friends and everyone else they knew, in disguise. Agnes was happy to mingle, sipping wine and trying to spot her peers amongst the crowd. It became rather stifling within an hour, no matter how frantically she fanned herself. She slipped into the gardens...and stepped into the path of a man in the costume and wig of a judge, a stern-featured mask held over his face.
"Pardon me, sir."
"With pleasure, Esmeralda."
Agnes gasped at the sound of that voice. It was the Hawk. He was here. She grabbed his arm, dragging him into the shadows. He allowed himself to be tugged along behind her, chuckling as she hissed at him, in fury and terror. He dropped his mask. He was grinning.
"What are you doing here? You could be caught at any moment!"
"Why, Esmeralda..." Agnes pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to silence him. He wriggled away, laughing, "I could almost believe that you care for me."
She was glad for the veil. He couldn't see the flush rising over her face.
"What are you doing here, Hawk?"
"Claude. My name is Claude. And to answer your question, I have just pulled off the greatest heist in history, my love."
Agnes gaped at him until he smirked and pulled aside his robes to reveal a bulging sack of treasures at his belt. She couldn't believe it. He had robbed the Palais!
"Quasimodo is waiting for me beyond the walls. He has the horses. Three horses."
She caught his meaning and her heart skipped a beat. Did she dare? She swallowed, choosing to push the idea to the back of her mind for the moment. There were more pressing matters just now...
"How are you going to escape? You can't mean to climb the walls?"
"Of course not. There's soldiers posted along the entire perimeter. I came in through the front door and I intend to leave the same way. It's a little more risky now, with the goods on my person, but I have a plan."
"Good luck with that."
"I don't need luck..." Claude smirked, grasping Agnes by the hips until she was pressed against him, "I need you. I need you to smuggle me out under those lovely skirts of yours, Esmeralda."
Agnes pulled away, eyes flashing, "You're mad! I won't do it!"
He reached out, tugged her veil aside, kissed her hard on the lips until she was gasping for breath and then...and then...
And then her legs were around him, her back was to the wall, he was between her thighs and then inside of her, with one thrust. Agnes cried out and he kissed her, muffling the sound. She pounded on his shoulders with her fists, whimpering as he fucked her, fucked her hard until they came together, bittersweet and strange and wonderful...
Claude lowered her to the ground gently, holding her close as she trembled, unstable in the wake of their passion. He kissed her again.
"You will."
And she did.
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