Summary: An accomplishment, a fight, and a secret.

A/N:The thieves in this chapter are completely made up, but I'll see if you can guess who the noble George robbed is. ;)

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The Cooper house stood empty for the days that followed. Despite Mistress Kaulao's best attempts, Cherno's illness had spread to both his brother and the boy next door. Eleni came home only to replenish her supplies and catch a few hours of sleep- she was desperately trying to prevent an epidemic.

As for George, he spent his mornings on the streets, refining his techniques and amassing an odd stash of stolen goods which he hid beneath his pillow- a copper noble, small mirrors from belt purses, shopping lists. If it was in a cloak pocket, he took it.

At night, he ate dinners at the Dancing Dove, and One Eye introduced him to his companions- Viven, a picklock with eyes that were two different colors; Oric, a gambler with a bald head that shined in the candlelight; Karce, a thief who worked down by the docks of Port Caynn and could sing the bawdiest songs; Garrick, a man with a foul mouth who had escaped the clutches of my lord Provost three times. It made for an interesting time, and often George didn't start for home until the sun was just rising over the horizon.

It was a late June day when the routine was broken. George was on his way to the Dancing Dove, practically tripping over his feet in excitement (though he did actually trip over his feet at one street corner, but it was contributed to broken pavement and not his overwhelming abundance of joy). For the first time, he had successfully stolen from a noble. A noble! It was an elder man with brown hair, dressed in an exquisite tunic that looked as if it cost more than George's home. It was harder to steal from nobles than from merchants and commoners, One Eye had told him. Nobles were notorious for their iron grip on their money.

But it didn't matter how tightly they tied their purse strings, how determined their watch on their coin was- George had stolen five gold nobles out from under the nose of a duke, or a lord, or an earl!

He ran the last few feet to the Dove, pushing open the door with gusto. When he had taken a few steps inside, however, he stopped as if he had run into a solid wall. The inn was eerily silent and George could hear nothing but heavy, labored breathing.

"What is going on-" he started to ask Beryl, a highwayman with a biting sense of humor.

The man jabbed a silencing elbow into George's stomach, shaking his head and putting a finger to his lips. Quiet. He jerked his head towards the center of the room and George realized the thieves and their ladies had formed a circle around a pair of fighting men.

Barefoot and shirts stained with sweat, the men paced around each other, daggers flashing. George recognized one of the fighters- short dirty blonde hair, intensely focused blue eyes, and a black eardrop- it was Talek. The other man was an unknown. Tall and well-muscled, he had a full red beard and moved with a loping grace. They seemed to be well matched at first, but George could See the bigger man was tiring.

He was right, and in a moment Talek backed the redhead against a table, where he stumbled and never regained his balance; Talek swiftly slit the man's throat.

Without lowering his dagger, he spun around to face the crowd, blood dripping from a wound on his thigh. "Does anyone else think they can rule better? Speak now, while ye have a chance. I won't take kindly to it later."

When no one made a sound, he hobbled over to a table in front of the great stone hearth, head held high. He lowered himself into a chair at the end of the table, and George couldn't help but think he looked like a king on a throne.

As if his sitting was a sign, the Dove jumped into activity. A woman hurried over to clean and bandage Talek's wound, and a few thieves drifted towards him.

George shook his head and tried to get his thoughts straight. He needed to talk to One Eye.

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"George! Did ye just get here?" One Eye sat down in a chair opposite George's; he had claimed their normal table and waited for the thief to arrive.

"No."

One Eye raised an eyebrow at the short response, and motioned for a passing barmaid to fetch him an ale. "So, how's th' thievin' goin'?"

"They don't stop everything for most fights," George blurted out. "That fight wasn't normal, and I want to know why."

Letting out a sigh, One Eye scratched at the back of his neck. "I told ye I couldn't tell ye yet," he said reproachfully.

"I know, but it's different now," the boy argued. "I stole from a noble today, I eat dinner here, I thought…" George didn't want to admit it, but he had thought he belonged at the Dancing Dove, with the thieves. One Eye was purposefully distancing himself like his Ma had done accidentally.

"Ye stole from a noble?" One Eye grinned, his gray eyes shining with pride. "Not th' time for praise though, I suppose. Yer progressin' quicker than I expected."

George leaned forward expectantly as One Eye scrutinized him.

"I think it is time ye learned. Talek doesn't know ye like I do, I'll explain it t' him."

"Why would Talek care if you told me?" George asked, feeling like he was standing on the edge of something big.

"Because Talek cares about everything that happens in th' Dove. He's the king, the ruler of the thieves. I belong t' his court, and I want ye t' belong too."

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A/N: Update. I know it wasn't much, but I'm still writing. Review and let me know what you guys think. :)