|queenoftheskies (queenoftheskies) wrote in 80sficpicalooza,|
@ 2008-05-01 21:47:00
|Entry tags:||^dragon quest viii, author: queenoftheskies, may 1|
In the Shadows, Dragon Quest VIII (Eight and Yangus)
Title: In the Shadows
Word count: 856
Summary: Eight compares similarities and differences between heroes and thieves
Prompt: Dragon Quest VIII, Eight and Yangus (or Eight/Yangus): differences and similarities - heroes and thieves
I never asked to be a hero, but I was the only one left for the job. I guess I've always tried to do what was right, but I've just never thought myself capable of being special, of being anything other than who I am. Maybe that's all right, but sometimes I worry that I'm the wrong person for the job. I wonder what Yangus would think if he knew. Sometimes, it bothers me how much he looks up to me. It's like...he thinks...
Eight tapped ink from the quill and returned it to the desk drawer. With a sigh, he closed the tiny leather-bound book and stuffed it in his pocket. He wasn't sure what Yangus thought, but the big man treated him like he was better than everyone else...and he wasn't.
Munchie ran back and forth across the top of the desk, squeaking in excitement. With a smile, Eight pulled a small chunk of cheese from the same pocket and plopped it on the table in front of the mouse.
He wasn't sure what he'd do without the little rodent. They'd been together as long as he could remember. And, as of late, Munchie had been much more than a companion, had taken to performing odd jobs that required stealth and diminutive size that Eight himself couldn't manage. He'd never guessed that the mouse could be taught to run missions or pick pockets or any of the other number of things the hero hadn't been able to do himself.
Some hero. Sometimes, he felt like nothing more than a common thief for hire. Everywhere they went, someone wanted them to do something, steal something, find something, before they'd part with information necessary to their quest to restore the king and princess to their true forms, to free Trodain.
Munchie attacked the cheese with such enthusiasm that Eight had to laugh. "You stay here and be a good boy." He stroked the fur between the mouse's ears. "I'm going to find Yangus and then we'll get out of this place." If they didn't leave soon, King Trode might venture into the city and then there'd most surely be hell to pay.
Thusfar, they'd managed to keep anyone, whether city-bound or traveler, from seeing the cursed king, but Eight knew it was only a matter of time until their luck ran out. He and Yangus needed to barter new weapons--though Yangus had other ideas for obtaining them--and brush up on what little magic they knew before that time came.
How will we ever get the best of Dhoulmagus if we can't even protect the king and princess? He hated to admit how much the attack on Trodain had frightened him, though he had to hope that the fact he hadn't been killed or cursed was a good sign. Perhaps the Goddess was looking over him. Or maybe, he just had plain good luck.
We'll need more than good luck to make it through this alive.
The second he stepped from the rented room into the back alleyway, Eight wondered if they'd need more than good luck to actually make it out of the city alive. He side-stepped a mugging in progress, then stuck his foot out to trip the would-be robber, while slinking around the corner before the thug had a chance to catch sight of him.
The thwarted no less than three more attempts at robbery, one attempt at rape, before he managed to make it to the crowded street where he'd promised to meet Yangus. He found his comrade engaged in questionable activity, moving from one unsuspecting street vendor to another, pilfering food and supplies, though in surprisingly little quantity.
Eight moved forward to intercept him, to run interference when one of the vendors turned Yangus direction. The old man protested when the hero stepped in to cut off his view. Eight turned to apologize, all innocence, then paused to find Yangus in the throng before he followed at a distance.
The thief paused in front of a low sun-baked brick building, glanced both ways, his eyes scouring the streets. Eight ducked into a side alley, waiting for Yangus to duck inside the building before he followed.
He stopped at the edge of the decrepit house, peeked inside the broken pane of a dirty window. Yangus stood on a ratty, thread-bare rug, smiling at a wisp of a child, a scrawny little girl with dirty blond hair. Beyond them, a thin woman lay bundled in a blanket on the bed.
With a broad grin, the thief knelt in front of the child and unloaded his haul: breads and fruits and vegetables of every color and kind. How he'd hidden it, Eight wasn't quite sure, but he had, and the delight and relief in the child's face when the thief pulled out a rock of hard candy made him realize just what a hero Yangus was, in his own way. They may come from different worlds, may live to different values, but it was the differences and the similarities between hero and thief that made them brothers...and friends.