The Mistborn and the Masked Brigade *mistborn fanfic*

Chapter 9--Breakout

"That's kind of what trust is, isn't it? A willful self-delusion."

― Brandon Sanderson, The Final Empire

"What are you doing here?" The princess sputtered, nearly spitting the remaining drink out of her mouth. 

It was Neo; of course it was. Who else would it be?  Who else would be so daringly rude to a stranger?  Much less a woman of her station? 

"What am I doing here?" He growled. "That's a strange question, coming from you."

She crossed her arms. "Nonetheless, I'd like the answer."

Neo gestured toward the ring of men chanting at the other side of the tavern. "I work here."

Apondrea looked him over, puzzled.  He was looking oddly tussled for so early in the evening. His onyx hair was blown to one side, as if he'd been out in a storm. His toned arms also had red blotches in random spots.  As if he'd suffered a physical altercation or...

"Don't tell me." She drawled. "You're a brawler." 

"That's one word for what I do."  

"I should've known, you do seem like someone who would do that sort of thing."

Neo raised his eyebrows, leaning against her table.  "Really?  How so?  I thought I was all charms and good manners compared to them."  He pointed at the two red-faced men in the ring at the back of the room.  One was biting the others shoulder, while his opponent was kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. 

Apondrea cringed, turning back to the lanky man in front of her.  Now that he mentioned it, compared to the bulky men in the ring, he was tiny. 

"How are you any good?"  She asked. "No offence, but you're nowhere near as strong as those, erm, gentlemen in the ring."

To her surprise, Neo tapped her on her masked nose. "How rude, the lady doubts my prowess."

"Not rude." She said, . "Just practical." 

The barmaid finally returned with a heaping plate of food.  The smell made Apondrea's mouth water.  The chicken looked just as good as it smelled, drumsticks covered in golden spices and a creamy sauce sat on the side of the plate. 

Neo slid into the chair across from her, idly eyeing her food.  Apondrea stared at him, she wanted him to go away.  This was her night, he was NOT going to ruin it.  With a casual thought, she began to burn brass. 

"Lets turn down that curiosity, shall we?" It had worked before when she wanted others to mind their own business.

She reached out to his emotions and began to damper his curiosity.  Uncle Breeze had taught her the skill himself.  It was always best to distract the subject when manipulating their core emotions.

"If you work here," She said. "Why aren't you over there?"  She pointed to the ring.

Not taking his eyes off her food, Neo replied.  "I've already fought for the night.  Won.  Didn't you see?"

"No.  I only got here a couple of minutes ago."

"Smother the curiosity a little.  Put out that concern right there."  Apondrea kept the emotions from her face, but she was puzzled why he would be concerned for her.   

"Did you win?"  She asked, twirling her fingers across the table in a lackadaisical pattern. 

"If you stop burning brass in my general direction, maybe I'll tell you."