Chapter Text
Part 2
Stelle had made her way back to a hidden, underground hideout in the slums, deep within the city, where her master would be waiting. She flops backward onto the couch in her master’s office. Lying back across the sofa, her legs are crossed over the armrest with a hand resting behind her head. She begins juggling one of Moze’s daggers with her free hand, waiting for her boss to finish his phone call. She managed to swipe it when Moze handcuffed her.
“Your head is in the clouds, little one,” her master spoke, disrupting her dazed state.
“What, am I not allowed to think about other men?” she teased upon sitting upright.
“You’re not particularly one to think about anyone but yourself,” her boss, Hoolay, comments flatly, earning a smug look from her. “And yet, I see interest in your eyes. You’ve met someone,” he observed.
Stelle rose to her feet and casually strides toward Hoolay, twirling Moze’s dagger around her finger. “I did,” she confessed. “A man considerably high in the hierarchy, it seems.”
“You were caught,” Hoolay quickly hissed at the implication. disapprovingly so.
“Yes, but I escaped, as you can see,” she states, taking a seat on the corner of his desk, with a palm planted behind her on the flat surface. “He saved the child I was trying to feed.”
“So what? Any of those bastards are capable of doing that-“ he growled, but Stelle put a finger to his lips to hush him.
“But this one is different. He's one of the goody-two-shoes,” she continued.
“Then we’ll use him. Find a way to earn his trust. We will need all of the support we can gather, and take back our rightful place on the upper ground,” Hoolay commanded, to which he received an elegant bow from Stelle.
“As you wish, master.”
Moze sat behind his desk in his office aboard the Yaoqing, his focus split between a stack of reports and the dagger missing from his belt-- a discovery he made shortly after the child had been settled.
In the quiet of his quarters, he twirled his remaining blade idly in his hand. A small habit he’d been performing lately, more than usual. His mind kept circling back to that odd woman he met. Her wit, her annoying demeanor, her unexpected charm...
Charm?
He quickly shakes off the thought. A distraction is what she was. He returns his attention to the documents laid out before him.
Some days had passed since that fateful night.
Stelle remained unseen by the public eye, and even more so by her new favorite toy. She’d kept hold of his dagger all the while.
Occasionally, she would spy on him here and there without being caught. Waiting for the right moment to catch him off guard, so she could make herself visible for his eyes only. It certainly proved to be a challenge and quite the wait. At least she learned his name from his peers in passing. But for now, she’d get her entertainment out of watching him whenever she got the chance. Her primary focus was to protect and assist her own people. The ones on the streets and in the slums who were neglected.
Moze’s routine had remained the same -strictly regimented, with little deviation- except for the moments where his mind inadvertently strayed to the enigmatic, golden-eyed lady. He caught himself on edge frequently. Every shadow and sound seemed a little louder and a little more menacing. He brushed it off as nothing more than a temporary distraction.
Though often at night, when he would lie down to rest, he’d picture her face... her smirk, and those piercing golden eyes that penetrated the darkness when he last saw her.
One night, he’d just gotten home from yet another long day. He opened the door to his residence and-
“Looking for this?”
Stelle was laid across his bed on her stomach with her legs up, crossed and swinging away idly, while her chin rested in her propped up palm. She smugly twirled his missing dagger in the darkness of the room. “Or were you too busy thinking about me?”
Moze had tensed in the doorway, a hand instinctively near his side where his missing blade was supposed to be. His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight. The woman whom he frustratedly couldn’t keep his mind off of, was now on his bed like she owned it. And with infuriating grace.
“You broke into a Shadow Guard’s quarters,” he said cooly, “and committed theft before me more than once.” He then steps inside, closing the door behind him with deliberate calm. No alarm. No call for backup. Just silence... and that dangerous glint in his eyes.
Stelle, on the other hand, watched his every move with great interest as he continued.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” He advanced slowly, his tone laced with taunt. “That dagger isn’t just a weapon. It’s my own signature.” He continues his slow approach. “You’ve been carrying it around like a trophy… but it’s been whispering your presence to me every time you drew near.”
Now standing before the bed, he leaned down slightly. “So tell me… were the theatrics worth walking into my trap?”
“Mm? What trap? The one I laid out for you? Why yes, absolutely! You need better security if you can’t realize this little kitty likes to bite back,” she smiled innocently, shamelessly carrying a seductive tone.
His gaze darkened. She was toying with him again. Taunting, teasing, mocking... fueling his irritation and... amusement, somehow. “Your audacity is matched only by your poor sense of judgement.”
In a quick, fluid motion, he snatched the blade from her grasp and tossed it aside with a clatter. He was in her face, leaning over her -one knee braced on the bed as he caged her between his arms. “No more games.”
“Mmm~ I like this,” she purred. “What are you gonna do, big guy?” she arched a brow suggestively.
He leaned in close, just enough that his voice could be felt as a low and controlled hum against her ear... dangerous and deliberate. “What any just person in power would do with a criminal in their vicinity.” He lets the words hang for a moment. “But not tonight.”
He pulled back far enough to hold her gaze, his own sharp with restraint. They stare at each other for what felt like an eternity before Moze exhales through his nose. “You’re insolent and clearly have no regard for order.”
His hand moved- not to cuff her this time, but to the strap of his cloak. Then it's tossed over her in offering before he climbs off of her.
“You have influence down there. And you acknowledge mine. Stop wasting time breaking the law and consider working with me instead,” he proposes. “The next person you find who needs help, leave them my cloak. I’ll know.”
He turns toward the now open window. One he intends to keep open from now on.
Why?
An invitation, perhaps?
Or maybe... something more.
There was undoubtedly something there. Something neither of them could explain.
Stelle breaks the suffocating silence with a chuckle. “Aww~ puppy is in denial again. But that’s alright. I like a man who plays hard to get,” she teased. Maybe a tad disappointed things didn’t escalate. “Jokes aside, I’ll... consider your proposal. If you can prove you’re capable of making a bigger difference than I've seen,” she stated, rising from the bed.
“I’ve told you before. You’re going to need to do more than a convenient little 'bird call' for just one child to woo me.” She slides her hands up his back and arm, bringing her lips close to his ear. “I’ll be watching you,” she whispers, then immediately jumps back before he can swat at her.
Seizing the opportunity, she kicks at the dagger he’d previously thrown from off the floor. “Hehe, the name's Stelle by the way. Don’t let me down, hot stuff~” she suavely winks, before leaping out the window and out of sight.
The dagger had landed on his bed. She’d essentially returned it. The first sign of establishing trust, mayhaps. Moze sighs, shaking his head as he eyed the blade, running his fingers over its surface. The metal was... pleasantly warm. Now a remnant of her infatuating presence.
He had to admit she was right about one thing.
Opportunity and privilege don’t grow on trees. They need to be created. And that was exactly what she was asking for. He can't make a difference without generating a cause.
Stelle returned to the hideout to report to Hoolay on her progress. Just when she thought there was light at the end of the tunnel, she was in for a shock once she came through the doors of his office.
Before she had time to react, she was shoved to the wall by the neck, held up in place by Hoolay’s intimidating strength. His grip was tight around her throat, and the back of her head was in great pain from the impact- evident by the cracked wall behind her.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, little street rat,” he snarled as she struggled to breathe, disregarding her futile attempt at prying his hand off.
“You’re on my leash, so you will do as I say. If I catch you trying to pull another sneaky stunt, I’ll make sure you’re grounded into nothing. And trust me, you won’t see it coming,” he threatened before finally releasing her, letting her drop to the floor. Vision blurred, she was gasping for air, clutching her now bruised neck as she coughed vehemently.
“Leave me. And don’t come back unless you’ve brought that man with you,” he ordered.
Without a word, Stelle left his vicinity, limping out of the brooding fortress.
Damn him! How’d he know?
Her thoughts ran wild after that scare. His cursed words raged through her mind. She was trapped. He didn’t need to remind her. “Ugghhh!” she punched the nearest brick wall, scraping her knuckles red, panting with fury. Her other hand lifted to graze her bruised neck, trembling from the memory.
She feared nothing more than Hoolay himself. And she hated it with every fiber of her being.
Ironically, she found herself back in the dark alley, where she had taken Moze to show him the mother and child who were in need.
It was almost a cruel joke. Like she was staring in the mirror that reflected her own looming turmoil.
The corpse of the little girl’s deceased mother still lay there. The missing child at least served as a reminder that there was hope through Moze.
For once, she’d found a ray of light in the darkness of her world to hold on to. And hell be damned if she let go.
"I will set us free. All of us. I promise," she quietly swore to the dead woman. A testament to all who suffered much like her. Whether under Hoolay's rule, or the Xianzhou's.