Rob X Punzel ~ Twenty-One!

Goldie leaned back against the brick wall of an unknown shop in the merchant district, hands relaxed at her side—though she was prepared to lash out with her scissors as needed. “Might as well get comfortable; there's a long cool down before I can do that again.”

She watched as the man, just a couple years older than her, assessed his options, his gaze sweeping down the alley before returning to meet hers, hesitation flickering in his eyes. Slowly, as if against his better judgment, he took a few paces to the opposite side of the cramped corridor and settled himself to wait, his posture remarkably relaxed but alert.

Her gaze raked over him as though assessing a target, though she found her eyes lingering longer than usual… especially on his arms and the coiled muscles of his neck. His clothes, finely tailored and still immaculate despite however long he’d been traversing the merchant district—and likely the slums, given his history—told her he was a man who took care of himself, or at least paid someone else to. Each movement betrayed the subtle strength in his frame, his muscles defined in a way she knew could only come from constant exertion and guided training. He’d lived a life far beyond her own, yet a necessity in order to thrive in the Brute Kingdom. 

“I go by Goldie Locks,” she introduced herself, sketching out a dramatic curtsy to try and break the ice. “Sorry if this is an uncomfortable topic for you, but I wanted to thank you again for helping take care of my brothers and sisters at the orphanage. I have some idea of how much money it takes to keep them fed and clothed, not to mention the duels the headmistress has to fight in order to maintain control of the building itself. I know your money allows her the time to train and get the supplements she needs to stay strong for the benefit of all of them.”

“Nice to meet you, Goldilocks.” He shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, seeming as if he wanted to hide his face, though they had met in passing several times over the years. For a long few moments, she thought about correcting how he pronounced her name, but figured it wouldn't matter as soon as she had re-deposited him in the citizens’ district. Eventually, he broke his silence with a cautious tone, “Yeah. You said you help out there as well? Are they all really your brothers and sisters, or…?”

As he trailed off, Goldie picked up the conversation, glad to have found at least some small common ground. “They aren't actually related to me, as far as I know, but that place has been my home since I was a baby. I know how tough it can get just to survive there, so I've always done what I can to help out.”

“I don't have any siblings, either,” the man spoke in a rush. He flushed slightly, which would’ve been hidden by the darkness of the evening were it not for the soft glow coming off Goldie's hair. “Even so, the… my father believes it's our responsibility to help who we can, especially children. He's always told me that people with the power and means to make a difference should do so. I… well, it used to annoy me a lot. It's not what the Brute Kingdom is all about, you know?”

Goldie nodded in understanding. “Totally get that. Still, I have a lot of respect for people who go out of their way to make that happen. I've always figured that people who are truly strong can show it by doing whatever they actually want to do. If that means helping people, all the better.”

By the way he turned and met her eyes for the first time, her words seemed to resonate with him. The young man seemed taken aback by her perspective and blinked several times as if committing the discussion to his memory. “Yeah. We do what we can. Even when sometimes… other people get in the way.”

The conversation faltered at that point, and they simply stood in silence for a few short minutes before Goldie got too uncomfortable and decided to try again. “I know why I don't want to be hassled by the guards at the checkpoint, but why are you going out of your way to sneak back into the citizens district? I just feel that someone like you should be able to manage them pretty easily if you wanted.”

*Humph.* He let out a soft scoff, his gaze turning hard as he looked directly at her once more. “Yeah, truth is, this is one of those situations where someone else is getting in the way. I'm not supposed to be out of the… house right now, and it looks like they found out I was gone. Even if my father's okay with it, the people I live with as a whole don't exactly look kindly on charity.”

Goldie raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on. He did, practically sinking into a tirade as he railed against what she assumed was his family. “They have extremely strict rules on how to conduct myself, and leaving the district to help out an orphanage is flagrantly against the rules. As it stands, if I can't come up with a solid excuse for where I was, things are going to get… rough. Sneaking out is already difficult, but after this?”

As his head shifted back and forth in a slow, resigned motion, Goldie felt a sinking sensation. One of the only other benefactors to the orphanage was about to be removed from the equation. Immediately, she jumped into problem solving mode, toying with her hair as she thought through what she’d seen in the wealthier districts of the city and what they viewed as proper conduct. Her hair glimmered with light, letting out the sweet smell of peaches as she struck upon an idea. “Is your family focused on combat? I assume so, but would you being out fighting for fun be something they are impressed by?”

“Impressed?” He blinked owlishly in the sudden light. “I think they might install a door in my room specifically so I can leave the house more often, if they found me out fighting for fun.”

“Perfect. Then I know exactly how to help you here, so long as you promise you'll keep doing what you can to help out at the orphanage.” Goldie waited until he nodded with full sincerity. “Thank you. It means a lot to me. Listen, I know where you can join a ‘private’ arena in the citizens’ district. It's not illegal, but it is supposed to be invite-only.”

He opened his mouth to ask a question, but Goldie waved him off, already knowing what he was going to say. “The only reason I know about it is that anyone can come in to fight, and the prize purses are hefty. Most of the slum kids that try their luck there leave empty-handed and beaten down, but every once in a while, someone does well enough to afford a solid apprenticeship or a large enough bribe to buy a small commission with the guards. What do you think? Want to go participate in a fight for fun, um…?”

She trailed off, only then realizing she didn't know his name. He picked up on the request, smiling as he said, “Call me… Bob. Yes, I think that's a fantastic idea.”

“You know what's an even better idea?” She smiled slyly, “If you're a good fighter, you can bet on yourself, or let me bet on you, and I can take the winnings straight to the orphanage. That way, you can multiply your donation without getting caught.”

The small hints of a grin on his face blossomed into a full-blown smile, and Bob’s head began to bob. “Yeah, I can see that working. Unfortunately, I'm out of coin this evening.”

“I'll have the headmistress reach out to the arena so you can assign your winnings to her, if you'd like. That way, no one will know you're doing charity.” Goldie gently tugged on her hair, eyes going distant. “Charity combat. Now there's a novel concept.” 

They made careful small talk for the remainder of their time in the alley, neither of them willing to discuss who they were, what they did for a living, their skills, or where they could be found at a later date. Mostly they talked about the orphanage or notable shops in the various districts. As the hour mark ticked over, Goldie felt a strange prickling sensation along her scalp, and… strangely enough, disappointment. It wasn't often she found someone to chat with, and speaking to Bob had been surprisingly easy once they got going. 

Checking her arm, she focused on the feeling, already subconsciously working to figure out the best ways to blend this new skill seamlessly into her current lifestyle. 

“Time to go, Bob.” They walked close to the wall, and her hair fluttered out to press against it. Only as he came within arm’s reach did she realize that in order to wrap him with her recently-shortened hair, they needed to be practically hugging. Her face flushed as she stammered out instructions, and Bob nearly turned and walked away, only agreeing to the near-impropriety, thanks to the sunk-cost fallacy of having already waited this long.

Slowly he came closer, until they were nearly face to face—as neither of them was familiar enough with the other to show their back. Her hair wrapped around him, leaving them in a glowing cocoon smelling slightly of petrichor. They stood like that for a long moment, then Goldie gently reached out and pulled him toward her. Together, they took one step, then two, and her hair fell away to reveal a clean alley in the citizens district.

Bob’s eyes bulged as he looked around at their new surroundings, then to Goldie with a slightly concerned expression. “You're a major security risk, you know that?” 

“I won't tell anyone if you don't,” she responded cheekily, winking even as he grimaced. “Let's go get you your alibi and not worry about what I can or cannot do. Sound like a plan?”

Bob seemed conflicted as he followed her through the winding alleyways, though his thoughts clearly returned to their situation as they moved from their hidden vantage and out onto the street. “Goldilocks, shouldn't we try to hide until we are where we're supposed to be?”

“That's the opposite of what we should be doing,” she firmly retorted, moving to stand next to him and even going so far as to link his left arm in her right. Trying not to laugh at his aghast expression, she leaned in, gratefully absorbing his body heat as she guided them along. “They're looking for a solo young man trying to slip past the guards. If they caught us together, at least sneaking out to see a lovely young lady is more understandable of an excuse, no? Also… just go ahead and call me Goldie.”

“Bob,” he reiterated, to Goldie’s disgruntlement—she had been hoping to learn more about him. Bob managed to force himself to settle into what he likely thought was a casual walk, but he ended up appearing stiff and formal to her trained eye. “Also, no. Walking around arm-in-arm with a beautiful woman might actually be a worse position for me to be found in, for obvious reasons.”

“Only a couple of streets away,” Goldie murmured, surprised with how much she enjoyed his thoughtless words and how the color lingered in his cheeks as he realized what exactly he had said. “What would you say your chances of winning the first few rounds are? I have a few silver; should I bet them on you?”

“Against walk-ons?” Goldie could feel the tension drain out of Bob as they moved into to a conversation topic he was confident in. “Feel free to bet on me. Unless someone’s deliberately sandbagging so they can fight weaker people, I should be able to stand toe to toe with anyone who isn't a serious competitor with extensive training.”

Arriving at the servants’ entrance of the small estate, Goldie stepped forward to speak with the hired muscle guarding the entrance. “My friend here wants to impress me, and I know the best way to do that is right here. What's it going to take to get him into the fights tonight?” 

“We're full,” came the instant response. Goldie rolled her eyes and flashed a silver coin at the man. His head tilted slightly, signaling a silent ‘no’ once more, and she begrudgingly showed a second coin. “What part of we’re full aren't you understanding?”

“It's an arena.” A third silver coin appeared in her palm. “Someone's bound to drop out. Come on, I'm not going to try to get my money back if they won't let him fight.” 

After a moment of consideration, the thug stepped to the side and held out a hand. She dropped the coins in his palm as they walked past, once more locking arms with Bob. He seemed utterly astounded at the interaction he had witnessed, looking back over his shoulder incredulously as the man simply returned to his previous position. “You can just… give someone a few coins, and they’ll stop doing their job? That's not right. If we wanted to get past him, I should’ve had to pummel him into the ground first.”

“Money is a form of strength, too, Bob,” Goldie explained as her hair tucked away the small satchel of bribes it had lifted off the meaty guard, before heaving a sigh at his stark indignation. “We really are from different worlds, aren't we? Come on, if you want to ‘pummel’ someone so bad, let's get you in the ring.”