Roguish Heart [South Park - Staig (Stan x Craig)]

Chapter One: Denial

The dungeon was dark and damp. The stench of mold permeated the stale air. A fairly large rat scurried along the far wall, disappearing into a fractured piece of the aging stonework. The sound of something dripping echoed within the four walls. The young knight grit his teeth, his level of anger growing as he was getting nowhere with this filthy waste of oxygen. He bent over and shoved his face so close to the thief's that his nose pressed into the other man's temple.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you here right now?" Stan growled.

Craig flexed his lean muscles under the tight rope that bound him to the chair in which he found himself. His eyes managed to be mischievous even when faced with a serious threat on his life.

"Simple. If you kill me, you never find out whether or not I have taken your beloved King's magic crown, Sir Stanley the Pussy."

He leaned his head forward, stuck out his tongue, and dragged it slowly up the knight's cheek, feeling the rough stubble that was starting to grow in. Sir Stanley quickly jumped back, wiping the saliva off his cheek with the back of his hand. He let out a noise of disgust and grimaced at the vulgar action.

The young rogue smirked and raised his chin in a show of confidence. "You act like you hated it, but you waited until I was finished to move away. See now that tells me you kinda liked it. Pussy."

Stan clenched his fists, ready to punch Craig in the mouth, but paused, remembering the importance of his mission.

"You called for me, my Lord?"

"Sir Stanley. It has come to my attention that the magic crown that has been passed down through the High Elf royal family for generations has been stolen. You know how important that crown is to me, and more importantly, the Kingdom. I would like to task you to track down the perpetrator and retrieve the crown."

"My Lord, are you sure to entrust only me with such a quest? The magic crown is a national treasure of great value. Perhaps I should round up some of the other knights and-"

"Sir Stan. You're my best friend and the most skilled knight in my army. There isn't anyone I trust more. I know that you will be able to track down the criminal. Do what you must. It is imperative that the crown is found. It could be very dangerous in the wrong hands."

"Yes, my Lord. I shall take my leave."

After investigating the crime scene, Stan had found a throwing dart imbedded in the wall with a small piece of paper tied to it. The paper was blank except for a small drawing of what looked like a middle finger. Stan had crumpled the paper in his fist, knowing immediately who had stolen the crown. His greatest nemesis. The one criminal who always got away. That bastard rogue, Craig.

"I see you trying to hold back that anger, like a good little knight. I know you want to take a cheap shot at me right now. I'm all tied up and can't fight back. We're down in here, all alone. No one would ever have to know. It would feel so good, wouldn't it? Do it, you fucking pussy. Do i-"

Crack!

Craig's eyes widened as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip, the familiar taste of blood on his taste buds. He began to laugh. "Damn, I didn't think you had the balls to actually do it."

"You make me angry enough to resort to things that I wouldn't normally do. Now where is the crown, thief?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, knight," Craig smirked.

"You damn well know what I'm talking about! I saw your mark in the crown holding room!"

"Oh yeah, right. The guards who protect that were pretty fucking pathetic, by the way. They went down easily. Everyone goes down easily when it comes to me. I bet even you would, if given the chance." Craig winked at his captor.

"How dare you insinuate that I would degrade myself in such a manner! I would never!"

"I think the great Stan doth protest too much. Also you're not wearing a codpiece, so I can see that your body betrays your mind." He grinned impishly, his misaligned teeth stained red with his own blood.

Stan pursed his lips and adjusted his stance, changing the way he held his sword. He held the blade pointing downward, the hilt resting in front of his groin in an ill-conceived attempt to hide it from the thief's prying eyes. Craig flicked his eyes to the sword hanging between his captor's legs, then back up to Stan's crystal blues.

"Yeah, nice try, knight. From what I just saw, you own less a longsword and more of a dagger."

Stan dropped his blade and lunged at Craig, grabbing his shoulders and slamming the back of his head against the wall with a loud thud. The chair teetered precariously on two legs, somehow still managing to hold its structural integrity under the shifted weight. Craig groaned at the impact. Something stirred in Stan when he heard the throaty groan, but he quickly pushed it aside. Stan grabbed a fistful of black hair and wrenched Craig's head back so that his dusky blue eyes could get a good look at how deadly serious Stan was.

"Tell me where the magic crown is before I fucking bash your skull open against the wall and paint the room with your blood!"

Craig grinned. It was always fun to get a rise out of Stan.

"We both know you'd never actually kill me. It's not a part of your valiant warrior code. But because I can see just how seriously you're taking this mission, I'll be honest with you."

Sir Stanley held his breath as he waited for the answer.

"I really don't know where the crown is. I got drunk that night and lost it."

Stan bared his teeth at Craig. Their faces were so close, they could feel each other's breath. Stan's chest heaved with fury as he contemplated his next move. Craig's eyes seemed to slowly wander from the heaving chest up to Stan's lips, finally meeting Stan's eyes.

The dungeon cellar door abruptly swung open and both men turned their heads to the movement.

"He-hey Stan? Do you guys want some lemonade? Your mom just made some."

Stan released his grasp on Craig and took a few steps closer to the stairs. "Get out of here, dad! Can't you see we're LARPing? Leave us alone!"

"Of course I know what LARPing is, gawwwd!" Randy slowly closed the door behind him, mumbling, "Whatever it is, it looks kind of gay", before it clicked shut.

Stan sighed and turned to address Craig once more. He jolted in surprised when he found the chair empty and the freshly sliced ropes strewn across the floor. He spun around, looking for him around the room. He'd only averted his eyes for a moment! He could not have gotten far! His gaze fell upon Craig standing at the top of the dungeon stairs. He was holding a pocket knife, only slipping it back up his sleeve once he was certain that Stan could see him do so.

"I never leave home without it," he grinned.

"How?! I patted you down as soon as I caught you!" Stan questioned.

"I have my ways...but thanks for the pat down anyway. Next time, I can return the favor," he winked.

Stan stomped his foot in frustration, a rosy blush spreading across his face.

"Y-you insufferable-!" he stuttered.

His flushed skin quickly turned pale and his jaw dropped when Craig then pulled out the Elven King's magic crown from his leather tunic. Craig spun it around one of his long slender fingers.

"Don't act surprised, Sir Pussy. We both know you knew I was lying. Time to see what this piece of junk will go for in the underground market."

Stan started sprinting toward the stairs, but Craig threw a smoke bomb down, causing Stan to cough and shield his eyes. When the smoke finally cleared, he was long gone.