Without a King (Greatest Thief 1, mxm)

Bonus - The Reasons to Steal - Abuse

(Mature Content Warning: While not explicitly described, Castin's story does allude to sexual assault)

Seven years before Without a King

Castin had gotten really good at keeping out of the way. He did the chores assigned to him, took the food that was tossed his way, and avoided interacting with the customers. They mostly ignored him anyway - men didn't exactly want to see a child running around in a brothel.

The women tolerated him more than they liked him. His mother had died moments after he had been born, and the woman of the brothel had all raised him, in a way. Taking turns to care for the son none of them wanted.

His mother had wanted him. One of the women had once told him that she was excited about having a baby. Even though she hadn't known who the father was, she had wanted her baby. Castin thought about that a lot when the women were ignoring him. It helped him feel better.

Every day passed the same way, until suddenly it didn't. He was sweeping the main room, doing his best to not bother anyone. It had been a quieter day, which made it perfect for cleaning. Some of the girls and woman lounged around chatting and waiting for customers. They ignored him as they usually did, but Castin didn't mind. If he swept well enough, the brothel's mistress might give him some extra food at dinner.

The women's chatter stopped as the door creaked open and a handful of sailors walked in, dripping with rainwater. A change came over the women then as they got up to greet the men, and tried to win their interest. While the mistress took most of the men's money for the brothel and the whole group of women, there was always a few siyas set aside for whoever had done the work.

Castin kept working as the sailors picked their women and were led upstairs. A few more sailors trickled in, and for awhile the main room was fairly busy. Castin paid the bustle no attention until he heard his name. Glancing up, he saw the mistress sitting at her desk, gesturing for him to join her. A wealthy looking man was standing in front of her, with his hands clasped behind his back.

He leaned the broom against the wall and walked over to see what she wanted. It was never a good idea to annoy her, and Castin did his best to keep on her good side.

"Castin," she said as soon as he was beside the desk. "Take this gentleman up to room sixteen."

Room sixteen was one of the bigger rooms on the third floor. The man must have paid a lot to see whoever was waiting for him there. "Of course." If the man was that rich, maybe he would be willing to give Castin a tip. He put on a smile. "If you would follow me, sir," he said, trying to imitate the polite way he had heard the mistress talk to customers. "It's just upstairs."

The man followed him. He didn't seem interested in talking, so Castin kept quiet as he led the man up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway. At the door to room sixteen, he stopped and turned to face the man. "Here we are, sir. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"No." The man eyed the door with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, sorry-" Castin moved to open the door for him. Maybe the man didn't want to touch the handle. He pushed the door open and started to step out of the way when he realized the room was empty. That couldn't be right, where was the girl? Puzzled, Castin turned back to the man. "I'm sorry, your companion doesn't seem to be re-"

The man pushed him into the room suddenly, and closed the door behind himself. "I didn't pay for one of the prostitutes," he said. "I paid for you."

Castin could hardly remember the last time he'd felt full. He was almost starting to regret running away from the brothel a few weeks earlier. At least they'd fed him there. He wandered through the crowds, hopefully looking for any scrap of food he could take. He wasn't a good thief, but being caught constantly had already made him a fairly good fighter. Absentmindedly, he slipped his hand into his pocket to feel the handle of his little knife.

Aside for the clothes he was wearing, the knife was the only thing he had taken from the brothel. The mistress had kept it hidden under her desk, where she could easily grab it if a customer seemed dangerous. She had plenty of knives hidden around the brothel. She wouldn't miss it, any more than she'd miss Castin. Well, she might miss the money he could have made her. But he wasn't going to let himself be sold again. Leaving was the only option. Taking the knife, and slicing up the furniture in the main room, had been an act of revenge.

With a sigh, he stepped out of the flow of people and leaned against the wall. He looked at the people around him, and another boy caught his eye. The other boy didn't look particularly hungry or dirty, although he was clearly living on the streets. He was weaving through the crowd comfortably, his hand sneaking out to grab bits of food from the stalls. Castin watched carefully. He ran into other thieves, children and adults, fairly often. Like in the brothel, he tried to avoid too much attention. He had never seen this boy before.

He watched the boy, then started to follow him. The boy made his way along the main street, before slipping into the alley. Castin peeked around the corner after him. For a moment he wondered if a threat would be enough to convince the boy to hand over his food. His grip tightened on his knife. He didn't like the idea of hurting another orphan, but he was so hungry. While he wavered, the boy disappeared around another corner.

Not wanting to lose him, Castin ran down the alley. He leaned around the corner, then drew back suddenly. The boy was no longer alone. Castin risked another glance. Two young men were towering over the boy, speaking so low that Castin couldn't hear them. But there was no mistaking their intent.

He wasn't really sure what compelled him to do it, but Castin jumped around the corner, his knife drawn. "Hey! Get away from him!"

The young men looked startled, but not afraid. They immediately turned their attention back to boy and grabbed his arm.

Castin ran over to the trio and slashed out at the closest thug with his knife. Castin couldn't really claim to have won the scuffle that followed, but the young men seemed to think he was too much work and left Castin nursing bruises and a few cuts on his arms.

The other boy had hung back the whole time, and only when the two thugs had left did he step forward. "Do... you want something to eat?"

Castin laughed, surprised by the question. It was the last thing he had been expecting to hear. He didn't reply immediately, but gingerly poked at a wiggly tooth with his tongue. He spat out a mouthful of blood. Then he met the boy's gaze. "Yes. Please."

The boy reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a crumbly piece of bread. "Are you living somewhere?"

Castin ripped a piece from the bread and popped it into his mouth, carefully avoiding the loose tooth. He shook his head.

"All right, well..." the boy looked hesitant. "I have a place. Maybe we could work together. I'm pretty good at stealing. Maybe you could protect me, and I'll share what I get."

Castin swallowed. "Like a bodyguard?"

The boy shrugged. "Maybe."

"All right," Castin agreed, immediately. "I'm Castin."

"Baisan."