Chapter Text
Gepard had lived in the tower his whole life, he couldn’t remember a time before it.
His aunt, Cocolia, said his parents died when he was young. To protect him from anything that could take her only remaining family, she just wanted to keep him safe by having him stay in the tower. She said they died the night he was nearly stolen.
It would be a lie to say he never dreamed of leaving… but the environment around him was also harsh, and without a guide he would likely get lost and, well, die.
Being stuck in a tower for years also means one finds everything they can to do in their never ending free time. Cocolia was gone frequently, so almost everything he learned he had to teach himself. She taught him how to cook of course but he found old cookbooks collecting dust behind shelves and learned more dishes than he could’ve imagined. He also tried to draw but his artistic skills were… not great.
Every book in that tower had been read several times over, occasionally Cocolia returned with a new one. One of his favorite books was one that talked about different species of cats, what they looked like, habitat, diet, and everything else someone could want to know about them.
There weren’t many wild animals in the tundra, at least that he could see from his window, but he enjoyed seeing one when they did show up; he was pretty sure there was a lynx that lived near his tower.
He was mixing a batter for a new pastry he was trying to make when he heard footsteps and a shout from outside.
“Gepard! Lower the ladder please!” Cocolia shouted, setting down something if the clanging was anything to go by. He set down the bowl with the whisk still in it and he walked over to open the window, tossing the wooden ladder down to his waiting aunt below.
As usual when she returned, Gepard finished up what he was doing, putting the bowl of batter into the fridge, which really was just a cabinet as far away from the fireplace as it could get with a big ice chunk in each corner, so he could work.
For a moment his hands felt like ice, like his own blood and flesh were freezing, like frostbite, and it was over. He held the large piece of ice he created in his hand, having gotten used to the strange sensation of making it.
When Cocolia finished climbing the ladder she stepped through the window, walking over to the table by the stairs and setting down a large bag. Some of the bag's contents spilled out when she opened it, a few screws and bolts rolling across the table.
“Here,” She handed him a book where the cover was hardly readable and the spine was damaged, “I found this in the snow on the way back.” He handed her the ice in return, now focusing on deciphering the faded and damaged letters. Medi...l H…bs an… T…ir Us…s.
He would have to clean up the cover and maybe rebind it later, there was uncooked batter in the fridge that needed to be attended to.
Cocolia raised the ice in her palm up to her forehead, like she did every time. Maybe while she seemed calm would be a good time to ask.
“So, I’ve been thinking…” Her eyes snapped open, “What if I go out to a nearby town or something for my birthday..? See what it’s-“
“Absolutely not.” The chair she was standing next to fell over as she whirled around and stared directly at him. She didn’t even seem to notice how her arm had hit the chair, likely hard enough to leave at least a light bruise.
“But-“
“Don’t you remember how your parents died? People would take you if they got the chance.” She approached him, putting one of her hands on his shoulder making him stand still, frozen like an ice sculpture for a moment.
“I’m old enough to go out there! You’ve seen what I can do to the practice dummy,” Said practice dummy had to be repaired every month or so due to his attacks getting better and better, “if I have to I can protect myself!”
“And it’s a terrifying place out there! People with knives and fangs, they would either kill you or take you! You are staying right here! You’re naive! You haven’t ever talked to anyone but me, they would trick you into thinking they’re a safe person until next thing you know, they stab you in the back!” She raised her other arm that was still holding the ice and jabbed it down in a stabbing motion. Screaming, oh how he hated screaming. He flinched at her volume. The ice in her hand melted faster than it should’ve.
“I’m done having this conversation. I’m going out again in ten minutes, enjoy your book.” She ended, still clutching the ice like her life depended on it and turning back to finish unpacking her bag.
He looked out the window and saw a cat he’d never seen in person and a lynx together. A serval and a lynx, what was a serval doing out in the snow? Both of those cats were solitary hunters too, strange. The two cats called out into the snow, checking every corner.
He didn’t realize how long he stood there, staring at the cats before Cocolia stepped behind him and asked him to move so she could leave. He said goodbye as she descended, not caring enough to pull the ladder back inside, closing the window shutters before going back to his pastry.
Not like anyone would ever find him anyway, he’d just pull the ladder up later.
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As expected of any thief who just stole one of the kingdom's most prized possessions, Sampo ran. Those damn Silvermane’s were good at following him though.
“Stop right there criminal!” Some guard shouted while Sampo just laughed. The forest was thick in this area, thankfully he knew it somewhat well from many other heists when he had to make a quick escape. If someone didn’t know their way around these woods they would certainly get lost in the thick undergrowth.
“Y’know I’d love to stop and chat but I don’t think you’d agree to that, would you pal?” He shouted back at them, continuing to sprint away, carefully dodging branches and bushes. And poison ivy, poison ivy was a bitch. He held the satchel with one hand, not wanting to let it snag on anything, aeons he always forgot how thick the forest was in this area.
“Train a little harder and you might actually get closer to catching me in the next decade! Ha! Au revoir, I hope you like my little parting gift!” He laughed, sticking his tongue out before chucking a smoke bomb behind him.
The bomb, with a sloppily painted heart drawn on it, smacked one of the guards in the face, the guard letting out a grunt of pain before it exploded in smoke and confetti. Sampo finally stopped a few more paces down, behind a big tree, to catch his breath, still keeping an eye on the guards so if they somehow recovered quickly enough he would have a head start.
That’s when he saw it.
A wanted poster with a drawing of himself hung on the tree he was behind, but something was off about it.
“Oh come on!” He whined, snatching the poster off the nail hammered into the tree, “They never get the nose right! How hard is it to draw a handsome face like mine at least decently!” The paper crinkled where he held it, disappointedly mumbling at how inaccurate the drawing was.
“That trick doesn’t work for long on me! I’m not Captain Dunn for no reason you filthy criminal!” Sampo jolted at the voice, quickly cramming the poster into his bag, jumping over a log and taking off again.
Those guards really were persistent. Annoying… He found himself running into a less familiar area of forest, registering that silently in the back of his mind as he paid more attention to not being caught. If he got caught… whooo… there was no way Natasha would pay that bail!
Stuck in his own head and paying more attention to the guard running behind him he didn’t notice the temperature rapidly dropping. He got too lost in his own thoughts and went on auto-pilot, forgetting about the guard, not noticing when the guard slowed down. Not noticing not noticing not noticing.
Now, Sampo had fucked up many times in his life, but none were as big as when he didn’t realize that there was a large root sticking out of the ground directly where he was running, his foot catching.
He was in the Snow Plains. Wow, he was running for a while… too bad he tripped and tumbled down a large hill, hitting rocks along the way. His back was sure to suffer if something didn’t break horribly on the way down.
The assault on his body eventually ended with him landing in a large snowdrift face first.
Huh… good news, he made it down that hill alive! Bad news, he was completely and utterly lost. And to be stranded alone in the Snow Plains was dangerous, with the freezing temperatures, avalanches, frozen lakes where one wrong step could have one taking an ice bath, and so much more.
He could make an attempt to climb back up that hill but with how deep the snow was and how tall and steep the hill was it would probably just result in him getting more banged up. He would prefer to not be beat up, so he would have to go with the other option, wander. Hopefully he would run into one of his hideouts, being lost couldn’t be that bad, right?
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It was that bad. He had forgotten how much he hated being stuck in snowstorms. Guess it had been a while since he last went fully into the Snow Plains huh…
The snow made it harder to see, resulting in him getting more and more lost. Maybe he should have chosen the hill after all. Eventually he found a cave, an icy cave yeah but still a cave, a break from the storm.
Finally, a chance to relax in this place.
He ducked inside the cave and practically collapsed onto the ground, he was tired. He almost missed it, he would have missed it if he wasn’t an expert thief. In the back of the cave there was a gap in the ice, which looked barely big enough for a person to squeeze through. This mysterious gap left him curious, it looked intentional, like someone carved out a pathway. He stood up and ran his hand along the wall of the cave as he walked to the back.
Yup, definitely carved by someone. But he was far far away from where anyone would ever be in the Snow Plains, so why was it there?
That “curiosity killed the cat” saying never stopped him before, so he tried to fit through. He barely fit but he could make it work.
Who would even carve a tunnel like this in the middle of nowhere anyway?
He saw the light at the end of the tunnel, literally, he wasn’t gonna die or something, Sampo Koski is far too fabulous to die. Where was he… Oh yeah, the light at the end of the tunnel.
The view when he stepped out of the cramped space was amazing. Well, as amazing as a view could be in the middle of the Snow Plains during a snowstorm. There was a tower with a ladder that fell from a single window near the top. It would be better in the tower than out in the snow… Fuck it. It’s the middle of nowhere, who could be living there!?
He checked to make sure the satchel was secure before marching over to the ladder. I will get up there, no matter how icy and cold you are, you ladder…
As expected, the ladder was cold. What wasn’t expected was for the ladder to not be icy. How the fuck did it stay ice-less however long it had been out there. He climbed the ladder as one does until he reached the top, where he hauled himself up and through the window, pushing through the shutters.
There was a fire going in a fireplace near the corner… wait did circles have corners..? The corner or whatever the circle equivalent to a corner is.
Finally, some way to warm up. It’s not his fault he had to sacrifice warmth for fashion! He walked over to the fire, sitting down just far enough away that he wasn’t at risk of sitting in the ashes. He didn’t even give a fuck at this point if someone lived here, they obviously weren’t home.
The satchel at his side called to him, so who was he to decline? Sampo started shifting the bag to his lap to dig through its contents for the crown.
“This place seems nice enough…” He hummed, sifting through its contents, “I could maybe stay here a little whi-“
He got cut off by someone hitting him in the back of his head really hard, knocking him unconscious.