It's been so horribly long since I posted anything of this type (this type being adventure) so even though I said I wouldn't post this until it was finished, I'm starting anyway. This story is AU, and contains some graphic violence (which will seems strange to those who know me for fluffy stuff, I'm sure) so those of you who aren't a fan, I advise you to tred carefully. Of course, the story also has humor and romance and lots of other fun stuff too. This is my first time trying something of this magnitude, so any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! On a final note, each chapter was inspired, oddly enough, by a track from the Lion King soundtrack. The chapter titles are the song it was inspired by. I belive that's all, and so on that note, please enjoy the fic!

Silent feet cut though the underbrush, soft leather boots soundless, but for the rustle of leaves, as soft as if they had been stirred by only a gentle breeze. The faintest swish of fabric could be heard as two figures darted through the trees, the weapons they carried on them strapped close so as not to catch on the branches that reached out, hoping to snag hair, limbs, shirts. The two men, only in their late teens, kids really, avoided the grasping branches with deft agility. They bounded over a fallen log, landing as soundless as cats on soft paws, their pace never breaking.

Ahead through the trees the sounds of the group the pair pursued could be heard. Cart wheels rattled along the narrow forest path, accompanied by the clatter of horse hooves on the ground. The faint chatter of the guards escorting the one cart convoy could be heard, although the exact topic of conversation went undefined. Not that it mattered. The two boys knew that the group had no idea they were coming.

Picking up their pace, the pair quickly over took the carriage. The boy at the front sent his companion a hand signal over his shoulder, and then motioned forward. The boy behind nodded, reaching back to grab the hood of his cloak and pull it over his shock of blonde hair. He then sprinted ahead of his companion to a nearby large tree, maintaining his momentum as he placed a foot against the trunk and used it to catapult himself up the side of the tree in a single, swift movement. He made no sound as he grabbed onto a thick branch, hauling himself into the higher boughs. His boots left no marks in the tree's bark. Soon the boy was concealed away among the leaves, leaving no sign of his lightning swift climb.

The other boy continued a little farther forward past his companion before slowing down, maintaining a low crouch as he cautiously approached the edge of the path, placing one foot gently before the other in slow, deliberate steps. Keeping himself carefully obscured within the tree line, the boy's hand fell to the sword hilt at his side. Fingers curled around it reflexively, their grip light.

Taking a deep breath, the boy took a quick moment to center himself. He let the breath out slowly, the warm air stirring a leaf that hung close to his face. And then slowly, his back pressed firmly against the tree behind him, he peered through the tangle of bushes that stood between himself and the path, his eyes seeking out his target.

He could make out the shadows of the approaching men as they reached across the packed earth in the early morning sun, the dark smudges stretched and distorted by the sun's low angle. The rumbling racket and clatter of the carriage and its horses was more than enough to cover any sound the boys might have made as they took up their positions, and the idle chatter of the guards screamed of inattention and lack of worry.

Taking another deep breath, the young man slid his feet apart, taking a more secure stance. He then waited, rocking lightly on the balls of his feet.

It didn't take long for the group to come into full view through the trees; sharp brown eyes quick to take in the members of the party. He counted six guards in total- two at the front, one to each of the cart's sides, and two more trailing at the rear. A driver sat at the front of the enclosed carriage, a scrawny man with a tangle of a beard, directing a pair of weary looking cart horses.

None of these men were who the young brown eyed man was looking for, which meant he was probably going to have to get into the carriage. A little extra work, but it wasn't wholly unexpected, and he wasn't complaining.

As the first of the guards came steadily closer, the young man took a moment to check them for any weapons. Both men carried swords at their hips, although the young man noticed that the guards walked as if the weapons was unfamiliar, their gaits ungainly as they adjusted for the extra weight. They didn't appear to have any other weapons on them, and the weapons they did have went untouched. Probably a group of men hired last minute from a tavern in the town, the young man decided. Not a group familiar with the workings of a weapon, and obviously not one familiar with proper soldier etiquette.

The front guards were walking side by side, one with his hands behind his head, the other with them crossed over his chest, the pair talking to one another loudly. No soldier with a week's training would be so out of position, nor would he be talking so loudly as to be heard from across the woods in the next town.

It was rather pitiful really.

Taking another deep breath, the young man cleared his mind of such thoughts, returning his focus fully on the task at hand, as the carriage and escort continued drawing ever closer. Quickly the young man's mind ran through the plan he and the blonde had prepared, working the absent minded guards into the equation. He grinned. This mission was looking to turn out even simpler than expected. If he finished with this group quickly enough, he would be able to make it home before night fall.

But he would have to finish this mission first. And judging by how close the group was getting, he wouldn't be waiting much longer before it began.

Suddenly one of the guards at the front gaffed loudly at one of his companion's comments, the other guard grinning broadly. Up above, from the trees, came a sound like a whip cutting through the air, followed quickly by a choked grunt from one of the men at the side of the carriage. A glance showed the guard stumbling back, hands going to the arrow protruding from his neck. One of the guards at the back noticed his companion's plight and made to call out, but he was interrupted by another arrow, this one appearing between his ribs.

Without waiting to see the fate of the second guard, the young man burst from the bushes, bent forward in a sprint, his hand on his sword hilt as he pulled the weapon from its sheath. The two guards at the front hadn't even realized he was coming until he was upon them, sword swinging out in a wide arc that sliced cleanly through the first man's belly, sending a spray of glittering red droplets at the second guard, who stumbled reflexively backwards.

Following the momentum of his weapon, the young man spun a complete circle. His blade was slicing though the neck of the first guard on his second pass before the guard had time to react with anything but a gasped "Oh!" as he fell.

Skirting around the now dead guard as he collapsed to the ground, the young man took off after the second guard, who had stumbled back a few feet before becoming frozen, staring wide eyed at the carnage before him.

The young man rammed his sword back into its sheath as he lunged forward, his other hand coming up in the same moment to pull the knife concealed at his wrist. This action seemed to pull the guard from his stupor, as his instincts of self preservation over rode his shock and disgust.

"Get back!" the guard shouted, throwing his arms up over his face as the young man crashed into him, a collision that sent the two men tumbling to the floor. Eyes rolling wildly in his head, the guard swung his fists like crazy in an attempt to take out his attacker. The young man actually rolled his eyes at the poor guard's flailing before slamming the heel of his hand into the guard's chin, and then slicing through his exposed throat. The guard gurgled up at him for a moment, eyes going impossibly wide, and then he went still.

A roaring scream abruptly pulled the man's attention up from the body below him, where he was met with the sight of one of the remaining guards running at him, swinging his sword over his head as if he thought he were wielding an axe.

The young man quickly rolled away from the dead guard, ducking to the side as the angry soldier's wild swing came down on his dead companion's corpse. The young man rocked to his feet, and then leapt backwards as the soldier ripped his sword free of the body and swung at him again.

"I'll kill you!" the soldier screamed as the young man dodged his wild swings. Glancing over his shoulder, the young man saw that he was being backed towards the pair of carriage horses, and wondered idly is this was his attacker's plan, or just a simple coincidence.

The horses snorted nervously as the young man came closer, bumping one another as they tried to back away. They only succeeded in tangling themselves in their intricate harnesses, the metal buckles clanking against one another.

The young man pressed his lips together, their corners twitching up as he adjusted his grip on the knife still in his hand, mentally throwing together a quick, makeshift plan.

"What are you laughing at?" the solider roared, still swinging his sword like it was a club. The young man simply flashed him a wide, toothy grin as he jumped back from one of the soldier's wild swings and found himself backed against one of the horses. "Hah!" the soldier shouted, "you're trapped now!"

"You would think so," the young man said, before ramming the heel of his foot into the wooden beam that connected the cart to the horse's harness. The wood snapped with a resounding crack. Whinnying in surprise, the animal reared back away from the sound, and then charged forward, forcing the soldier to leap to the side to avoid being trampled by the now free animal as it thundered off into the forest.

With an angry shout, the soldier climbed quickly to his feet again, and once more charged at the young man.

And then he stumbled, an arrow protruding from his throat. The guard hovered for a moment, his expression one of surprise, and then he toppled forward, landing in a heap in the grass. The young man stared at the fallen guard for a moment before nodding to himself in a satisfied way, and then turning to face the carriage.

"You're welcome," a bemused voice called from above him. Looking up, the young man caught sight of his blonde companion—he was standing atop the carriage, a grin splitting his face. "I'll handle the last guard for you," his said, still grinning as he motioned to the back of the carriage with a jerk of his thumb. "You can go inside and chat it up with our new friend."

"What happened to the driver?" the young man asked, eyes darting to the carriage driver's empty seat. The blonde shrugged.

"He took off the second we showed up. Why, do you think he knows something?"

"No," the young man decided after a moment. "This lot is nothing more than a bunch of convenient thugs that were hired. I doubt he would have been told anything. But if we see him in the forest later, we'll take care of him."

"Aye aye, captain," the blonde said, giving his companion a mock salute. He earned himself a scowl for his troubles. Grinning in return, he motioned to the carriage roof between his feet with one of his arrows. "Are you going to get in there or what?"

"I'm going," the young man said. The blonde waved and then turned towards the back of the carriage as the young man started walking towards its side. He paused for a second when he reached the door, taking a deep breath as he rested his fingers on the door handle.

After a few seconds a scream sounded from the back of the carriage. The young man grinned when it was followed by a frightened whimper from inside the carriage. Grabbing the handle, he wrenched the carriage's door wide open.

"Please don't hurt me!" the man inside shrieked as soon as the door came open. The young man raised an eyebrow at the unexpectedly high pitch of the scream.

Sitting inside the carriage was a man of about middle age and substantial girth, with beady little eyes that peered out from a pudgy face. The hair atop his head was thin and wispy, and had been implemented in a failed attempt by the man to hide his rather large bald spot.

Covering the man were a number of furs and silks, all of which had been piled on for an obviously aesthetic purpose, rather than for any attempt at fashion. A large, shiny ring adorned each of his pudgy fingers, and a pair of thick gold chains hung about his second chin. The young man quickly classified him—overindulged aristocrat.

Not a threat in the least.

"Please!" the aristocrat continued to beg, fat hands clasped before his face, his chins wobbling as he spoke. "I have done nothing to hurt anyone!"

"So you claim," the young man said. He stepped up into the carriage, ducking into the dark little space and pulling the door firmly shut behind him. The aristocrat whimpered; trying to press himself further up against the carriage's back wall as the young man sat himself down on the seat across from him.

"Please, I-I'll give you anything you want!" the man continued to beg, "Whatever it is—just name it, it's yours! Just please don't hurt me!" He trailed off in a whimper, quailing under the man's dark gaze.

"What I want," the young man said slowly, "is information."

"Wh-what kind?" the aristocrat asked, his lips hanging open as he stared at his unwanted guest, his buggy little eyes wide.

"The kind you are carrying right now, to the King," the young man said. His expression was like ice. It caused the aristocrat to shiver, although he attempted to put forth a strong front.

"I d-don't know what y-you're talking about," he said, sitting a little straighter. The young man sighed, allowing the knife still in his hand to tilt just enough to catch the little bit of sun streaming in through the curtained window.

The blade glittered merrily in the light, the blood dripping from its tip glowing an almost cheery red.

The aristocrat made an odd choking sound.

"Well?" the young man asked.

"I…uh," the aristocrat answered, unable to pull his eyes from the knife. The young man continued to glare at him. Under that rock hard gaze, the aristocrat's resolve crumbled. "One of the King's guards asked me to find him the location of some place out in the woods."

"What place?" the young man snapped, sitting straighter.

"I don't know," the aristocrat almost whined. "Some church place or a cult of some kind, I don't know what, the guard never told me. I found a guy to go check it out. He wrote down the directions for me to pass on to the guard."

"And where are these directions?" the young man asked. The aristocrat licked his lips nervously, struggling to pull himself back together.

"…W-what will you give me for them?" he asked boldly.

The young man's eyes flashed.

"Your life."

"O-oh," the aristocrat answered, his beady eyes wide. "That uh, th-that sounds like a fair enough trade." Reaching into one of his furs, the aristocrat produced a small glass vial, plugged with a tiny cork. "Here you are sir," the aristocrat said, handing it over to the young man.

The young man took the vial, holding it up to the little bit of light filtering in through the crack in the curtains. Scowling at the minimal lighting, the young man reached up and tore the little curtains from the window. His sudden action made the aristocrat jump.

"Everything seems in order," the young man said, after a moment in which he carefully examined the scrap of paper rolled within the bottle. He tucked the vial away within his robe. "Thank you for your time."

"O-of course," the aristocrat said, nodding as the young man stood to leave again. Although still nervous, the aristocrat was emboldened by the fact that this man had not attempted to kill him, and was as a result unable to quite stay his tongue before audaciously asking, "Young man, what is your name?"

The young man, who was reaching for the door handle, turned back to look at the aristocrat and answered icily, "If I told you that, I would have to kill you." The aristocrat looked properly terrified.

"Uh…right, quite right," the aristocrat said, nodding. "Well uh, g-good day."

The young man nodded once and turned back to the door. He was about to turn to handle when he paused again.

"My name is Ulrich Stern."

"Oh," the aristocrat said, taken aback by having his question suddenly answered. He nodded a few times to himself, but then paused. "But didn't you just say…?" he started to ask, but trailed off when he noticed the young man grinning at him over his shoulder.

Outside, the young man's partner simply raised an eyebrow and shook his head at the blood that splattered the carriage's window.