The thief entered the wooden door of the dancing dove, smiling broadly. He was nothing but asixteen year old boy, but was in love with life, and had ambitions for his future.

"Ah! If t'ain' George! Care for a bit t' drink, lad?"

George sat down on the stool, still smiling merrily. "Sure, Tom. I could use a spot- rise me hopes for th' comin' years."

Tom smiled a toothless grin. "Ah, youngin'. And wha' might yer hopes be?"

George winked. "'Tis time to have a new Rouge runnin' this place, Tom, an' I fer one am up t' the job."

The young lady sitting beside George stole a quick look at him, then turned her body in the other direction with a sniff.

Tom looked shocked, but quickly recovered. "You, lad? Dreamin' of bein' the Rogue- I see. Best of wishes t' ye, George. Yer gin' t' need it t' beat th' young lass Emily."

George laughed this comment off. "Bu' that's exactly what she is, Tom- a lass." Laughing at his own joke, George clumsily knocked his drink onto the clothes of the young lady who sat beside him. She had not turned away, though: she was looking at him with fury in her gaze. "Hmm, Ah seeh- an' a lass woul'n't beh a very har' challenge, now woul' sheh, Coopeh?"

George tipped his head in apology. "She's not much older than yerself, miss-"

"Bu' not much youngeh than you, sir." The tall brunette looked at him with daggers in her eyes.

"Miss, I do not doubt th' abilities of our young Queen, but I do think that maybe it's time t' let a real ruler lead the Court of the Rogue."

The woman stood up, incredibly upset. "The' let's seeh jus' how goo' yah're, Coopeh."

George stood up, and waved a good bye to the laughing Tom. "Alright, miss. Bu' I warn ye- I'm smart with th' knife."

"And Ah warn yah- Ah'm twice as keen."

~*~

George and the opposing lady were in the court yard, circling each other, a single five inch knife in each hand. The moonlight, stars, and dim lights from the tavern were his only sources of light,but George's trained eyes could see quite well. The girl's look of calm concentration told him that she wasn't having any troubles, either.

"Ah can' take thah blame if yah die here 'n' now, Cooper- bu' don?'hold back form meh."

George spit on his hand. "Promise I won't, miss, bu' I can' hurt a pretty lady."

She smirked. "Then yah won' hav' a problem hur'ng meh."

The smile on her tom boyish face quickly faded, and she lunged for his right arm. George quickly got out of the way before any damage was done, but she retaliated just as quickly; this time goingfor his shoulder. George did not back away, but instead ducked and slashed the back of her dress.

The young woman growled dangerously, and flew onto George's back in a split second. She cut off his airway by thrusting her elbow against his throat, and held it there as he toppled onto the ground and pinned her.

Still with one elbow on his throat, she stabbed his arm, lightly, but with anger behind it. George yelped in pain, and rolled over onto his side. She got up, waiting for her opponent to alsorecover; it was an injustice to attack him while he was rolling in the dirt.

When George did get up, his shirt sleeve was soaked with blood, but not bleeding heavily. Through his pain, he smiled, and again went for her side. The lady saw his plan, and gave him a high kick on the hand, knocking his dagger away. She dove for his knees, and got him down on the ground. Pulling out a second dagger, she put was to his bruised throat, and the other over his heart. "Ah always carry a spare," she remarked slyly. She added with a slight smile, "An' if Ah was a cru'lgurhl, Ah'd kill yah on thah spot." She slipped the two daggers back into their appropriate hidingspots, and laughed. "Di'n't yah say gurhls we'e weak?"

George laughed himself, partly at her heavy accent, and partly at the fact that such a young, innocent looking woman had defeated him. "I'll never say that again- promise," she replied, stomach heaving. He grimaced as she touched the cut on his arm. "What're ye doin' lass? I need a healer, I know."

She shook her head. "Yah don' need a healeh now."

George took a look at his arm, and realized that she had already healed it herself. He smiledsweetly. "Is there anythin' ye can't do??

She looked down at him. "Did Ah evah say how charmin' yah are? Not tah mention, such a gentleman on thah court."

He reached up with his good arm, and brushed a piece of hair away from her face. "And did I evertell ye how beautiful ye look in the moonlight?" He reached up to kiss her, but she quickly pulled away. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she had already dug her heal into his abdomen.

"Who do yah think yah are?" she sreamed. "I coul' kill yah for that!"

He winked. "Ye wouldn?' kill me, lass- I'm too cute."

She scowled. "Thah Rogue is capable of doin' a lot." She stomped away, Geroge calling at her retreating back.

"Ye're- ye're the Rogue? Emily Clance?" But the young lady- the young Emily Clance- did not answer.She smoothly opened the door, and walked in the Tavern.

Goerge rested his head on his hands. "Emily Clance..."