You stare at the men standing in your father's foyer- well, your foyer if you want to focus on technicalities. It's barely been a week since daddy passed, and he's only just been buried in the old cemetery by the church... your thoughts are interrupted when the leader of the group, a man with a rather gruff but striking appearance, speaks up. "It is regrettable that your old man has passed away, Miss Duvall. However, prior to his death, he owed us a lot of money, and we are here to collect." he pauses to let his words sink in - and he seems to enjoy watching you take in another load of bad news. "That's right young lady, your father had gambling debts with us for years. Your daddy would have done the right thing and honored his debts. Such is life." In an attempt to keep yourself afoot, you cross your arms and stare back at them, "D-do you have proof of this debt?" your own arms give you little comfort as you ask. A man with a bushy black beard steps forward and hands you a piece of weathered parchment. This thing looks quite old... You skim over the note, several names including your father's, the amount owed, and at the bottom what appears to be a signature. Although faded, it's legible and matches - unfortunately. "This is preposterous! My father would never lose this much money! A-and even if! I... I'm not paying this debt." You exclaim. "It's not mine!" You add and slam your fist into the nearby doorframe - as unladylike as the motion might be - you don't really care anymore. The sound of your knuckles cracking reverberates for a brief moment. You try your best to hide the pain written plainly on your pale face. The men share glances. The leader then begins to cough and break the gaze with a smirk. With your adrenaline pumping, you continue to glare daggers at the lot gathered in your father's- no, your foyer.
"Are... y'all threatening me?"
Everyone shifts uncomfortably on their legs. "Now, now .." The man pauses and clears his throat, running a hand along his neck, "My apologies Missy. This is a business transaction for us. We need to collect, or else, we'll be taking the deed your father left you on his mine as payment instead." "I ain't paying, and ya'll ain't taking, my mine." You say with conviction, then you point at the door, "take your lot of scoundrels and get out of my house!" The scruffy bunch only nod and shrug at your proposition. With his head tilted down, the leader walks towards you and places a firm hand on your shoulder. You want to shrug it off, but you resist the urge to do so, especially since the other men also step closer and encircle you. "Look, we'll be taking what is rightfully owed to us as agreed upon by your father or else this..." Gulping you glower at his hand and inhale sharply, "G-get your hands off me!" You order, interrupting him. The leader retracts his hand and leans in close to your ear. The touch of his lips threatens your skin. The heat from his breath sends shivers along your spine. "Listen to me. I'll give you a week. If the sum isn't paid by then. We're taking everything. And darlin' I mean ev-" Letting the despair, anger, and frustration of the past weeks overwhelm you, you kick him between the legs with all your might. It's enough to topple the giant figure over to his side. "You little!" You don't give him a chance to recover from the pain you have given him and muster all the strength you can and shove him down to the floor. Within seconds, his comrades pull you away to stop you from harming their boss further, allowing him enough time to roll out of the way. Kicking and hissing, you attempt to get out of their grasp. They try to calm you, but you are not having any of it. You continue to struggle and squirm under their grip while the leader helps himself back up. Wincing, he spits at the floor and rises to his full height.
"I suggest you leave now! I-i mean it!"
Your voice sounds more like a squeak- even to your own ears. The leader ignores his underlings and looks over you, stroking his chin, "I didn't think you had it in ya..." As he approaches, you start to squirm and kick anew in a primal survival reaction at what might come next. "Calm yourself down, darlin', I'm not gonna hurt ya. At least not this week." and with that last remark, he finally leans his face next to yours and plants a fleeting kiss upon your cheek. Then you are released, and you stumble back, away from him. "Now, you have a week to come up with the coin, darlin'. At the end of that week, If I haven't received it, well... trust me, nobody can save you." He turns and walks out of the room with his lackeys following behind. The door is shut with a slam. You stand in silence as you try to pick up the pieces of what just happened. What makes it all worse is he's right. There isn't much you can do about any of it except paying him the money he demands by next week - or else... Tears spill down your cheeks as you lean against the wall. It would seem that you found yourself in quite a predicament. Your eyes wander to the debt paper. Sobbing uncontrollably, you walk over to the table and sit down in one of the chairs in front of it. You wipe away your tears in an effort to see the piece of stationary better. It's daddy's signature, alright. How could he have done this to you? You stare at the debt sum, running some quick math in your head. You don't have that much money, but you suspect that the leader knew that, and that was why he demanded it in a week. You cross your arms to hug yourself and sigh, "I'm not selling the mine." You mutter in protest even though there's nobody around to hear you. You groan, gripping the edges of the table, sinking your forehead down onto the beautiful lacquer that daddy bought for mommy. The smell of the cedar emanating from it briefly bringing back fond memories of better days...
A week later...
You stand on your doorstep, glaring at the leader of the band - who's smugly grinning down at you. "W-where are your goons?" You hiss crossly. "I figured you'd prefer not to be surrounded by rough men again, so I left them at home. This is just between you and me." He grins and takes a step forward, causing you to take one back. "Just hand the pay over, darlin' - or…" Frowning, you look down at your hands as you meekly ask, "H-how about we t-talk this out? M-maybe we can make a-arrangements?" He stares down at you with thick lashes fluttering over a knowing grin. You glance back at the house and the mine, then up at him again - what an awful situation to be in! How do you make this proposition to save your belongings and throw away your dignity in the most sophisticated way!? You close your eyes and whimper, "c-can there be o-other arrangements ... to pay my daddy's debt?" You peek one eye open at him and see a cheeky smirk tugging the corners of his mouth, "All debts can usually be settled darlin', even if it's with your body." A deep red blush stains your face and neck. "I'd just rather ... " you pause, mulling for the right word before you spit, "s-service... service you!" "As you wish." He agrees. "I will let you repay your father's debt due to a mixture of my respect for you and my desire to pursue you as a mate." The way he says this last part makes your toes curl. You would almost swear that the ruggedness of his voice makes his chest rattle. It is so deep and resonating. "m-mate?! M-must you use that word?!" You hold your arms out before you, defensively as if his crude way of addressing this proposal of yours could hurt you physically - like the way it's hurting your pride. His eyes trace your figure before he holds out a hand to you. Biting your lower lip, you glare at his rough, calloused, and most of all, large hand. You lift your eyes to meet his gaze, demanding, "I want that in writing." "Fair 'nough," he replies and strides towards your house.
"W-where do you think you are going?!"
You call after him and see his tall form shrug while over his shoulder he tells you, "To fetch my written word, of course."
He strides up to the house and leaves you standing dumbstruck in the yard.
You gather yourself and follow him into your house.
"T-the office is over here!" You hiss as you stomp past him. He follows after you chuckling. Muttering curses under your breath you scramble for the beautifully carved pinewood desk in the office. Bending over the desk, you shuffle through the stacks of papers. You finally find an empty one and hold it out to him triumphantly, "Here!"
He grabs your wrist as soon as you relinquish control of the note over to him. His other hand touches your waist and you feel both hands spin you around like a dancing partner on a ballroom floor. Breathless, you stare up at him into his twinkling eyes. He chuckles deeply, and you can feel the reverberations deep inside of you. "Listen, you are now bonded to me. Our lives are intertwined now, and it would be wise of you if you start to accept that right now." He releases you with those words. He drops the paper on the desk as he reaches for the ink bottle and dips the feather pen in it. You can't help but bite your lip again as you watch his hand glide over the paper. It is almost hypnotic to watch, moving about.
This feels like a bad dream.
"What're ya starin' at?" he asks after a moment.
You blink and tear your eyes from his hand to his face, "I-i want you to make sure to put in writing that I'm absolved of all of my father's debts!"
He frowns and does not look up from the paper, "Fine." He replies simply and you stare at his face trying to reveal the untruth, but your mind is not skilled enough to decide what the true answer is.
With a flirt of his eyebrows he has finished, he turns the paper around and leans over you to slot it into place under the rest.
It says one line, in large type that all may read:
I acknowledge the debt of Portia Duvall to be paid in full.
You whisper, "Daddy's Mine..."
He looks down at you and smiles a wicked grin before he grabs you by the neck and pushes you down onto the desk, while he lifts the quill one more time to add to the deed, "To me."
You gape at the paper then up at him as he takes hold of your chin and scrawls his name onto your flesh - to really drive home his point.
"There."
He steps back with a bounce in his step, "Now it's official."
You slide off the desk and read the contract over again.
"I d-don't think this is how it works..."
"Well that's what it says," He smirks and crosses his arms.
"What does it mean then?!"
"You've been sold to me, you don't have any of the freedoms the law would normally grant you. You do as I say. Y'know, like a wife." You look up at him horrified and he smiles back sympathetically. You return to sulk at the paper in your hands.
"Y'see, this is just how it's going to work."
Your hand flies to your cheek to wipe off the ink lettering of his name, "Is it?!"
You frown up at him defiantly.
"Y-yes…" His face falls for a moment as he tries to bend the reality of the situation and fails before his eyes spring back in madness again, "Or else I can just hold you here until my money comes in, which would be a lot less fun for you."
You cross your arms over your chest and pout, "I'm not your possession!"
He snorts and shrugs,
"If you say so…" He turns and looks back at the contract in your hands, "Either way this still applies legally."
"This isn't legal…" you mutter under your breath.
He smiles sweetly again and leans in close, "A fine phrase for a fine lady!" His hands gently take hold of your chin and he kisses you.
Chaos in the soul, this one.
So there you are. The fresh… property… wife… toy… of this strange bandit leader.
He breaks the embrace and grins down at you, "It's nice when the law works in your favor for once." he reaches down and wraps his finger around your pigtail, "Let's get out of your office and go take a look at your daddy's mine."
Your eyes widen at his ambiguity