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A simple hut, giving no indication of the treasures that lay within.
A thief, silent, slipping through newly-fallen snow. Her footprints leave a quickly-covered trail, but her very presence will give her away. Her stolen treasure, slipped securely away in her breast pocket. A clean getaway- but not clean enough.
A seeker, a seer, a keeper of ancient treasures. She guards them, until it is time to return then to their proper place. Living crystals, that speak in their soothing voices, soothing off the madness of solitude. She tracks the thief, uncaring of her own path- only of catching the one who had stolen what was not theirs to take. To catch them is a simple task- to keep them, another matter.
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Glimpsing the elegant, sweeping cloak of the Keeper behind her, the thief sprint, bolting down the next ridge, dodging aside in a futile attempt to loose her tail. The very ground around her seems to reach out, catching her, sending her tumbling to the snow-strewn ground. The keeper stands above her, snarling, one foot planted by her shoulder, the other pressing against her hip.
"Return the crystal. *Now.*"
The heat of the saber singed the cloth covering her chest, and she froze, staring up at the keeper, snow dusting their hair, blue light reflected off their face, beautiful ferocity.
"Nuh uh. Finders keepers. Hard enough to find, too."
"If you do not return it to me willingly, then I will search you."
"Who wouldn't want your hands on them, beautiful?"
The keeper's hands were nothing short of clinical, stopping just before cruel as she turned out the thief's pockets, growing more frustrated by the second, as the thief's sharp-toothed smile grew.
"How about a trade, hmm? Your pretty crystal, and something from the pretty you."
"What do you want?"
"Just a little peck on the lips. Shouldn't be so hard."
The keeper finds the crystal soon after, to the thief's disappointment, and straightens with a grunt of annoyance. They twirl their saber.
"Start running."
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Returning back to the same place to steal the same thing was not the typical plan of action after a failed heist. One might even call it a rookie mistake. The trail of footsteps isn't the least bit obscured under the clear cold sky, as the thief glances over their shoulder, waiting for the keeper to appear.
"Looking for this?"
"You're going to attract people you'd really rather have not know of your existence if you keep doing this."
"Well I'm, certainly attracting the person that I do want to know of my existence."
"You're infuriating."
"Come over here and prove it."
The gap is crossed with several long strides. The thief lets out a gasp as the cold of the saber's unactivated emitter is pressed against her midsection, the sways slightly on her feet. The keeper's lips are colder then expected, a not-quite-chaste press, the hand slipped into her pocket that she knows is taking back the crystal, and doesn't care in the slightest.
"There, some peace and quiet. I'll even give you a head start." The keeper leans close, noses nearly touching, "*Run.*"
The thief *bolts.*
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"I tire of this game of cat and mouse."
The thief had never been able to stay away from beautiful, dangerous things, and the keeper was even more lovely than the treasure she protected. The saber, held crosswise across her neck, singed her skin. She stood on tiptoes, back pressed against a tree, pupils blown wide.
"You'd think a clever girl like you would learn, but no. The more I drive you away, the more you return. I'm beginning to suspect you'd rather stay. Either that, our you've got a death wish. You haven't got a death wish, have you?"
The saber presses closer, and she can't tell if the burning in her neck is the shake of her own muscles straining to keep her chin full extended, or the burn of the saber. Her legs are shaking, her feet tiring from the dangerous tip-toe position. Nervously, she squeaks out a "No!"
"Then it's something else. Don't think I haven't noticed how your eyes go wide every time I pull a 'saber on you. I wonder, what you find more beautiful, it or myself? No, don't answer that, I'll drag it out of you later."
The keeper's eyes seem to burn through their soul, seeing straight through them. The thief's brow furrowed, focusing everything on not dropping down into the 'saber- but their strength is rapidly failing them. They let out a cry of alarm as they slip down.
The saber does not melt their skin. Instead of a brilliant light near-blinding them, a forearm pins their shoulders to a tree. The still burning hot emitter traces down their cheek, burning them, and they whimper and start to cry at the pain.
"I'm hurting you."
"Mhmm."
"But you want me to. You like it."
"...yeah."
"Thought so."
The tears are brushed aside, a stim pressed to their arm releasing the healing drug into their system. The keeper studies them for a long moment, then releases them abruptly to crumble to the ground.
"I will not chase you any longer. Either you will leave, and not come back, or you will come inside, and I will determine what to do with you.”