starlight [lafayette x reader]

Silver and Gold

YOUR LIFE ON PHILIA was one of luxury. Perhaps an outsider wouldn't describe it that way: you never knew where your next meal would come from, and your home never stayed in one spot for too long. Yet, the independence afforded to you was of greater value to you than any comfort security could have given you. Just because you made your living by... unconventional methods didn't mean it was any less legitimate than that of most businesses on Philia.

            Thief, bandit, swindler; you preferred "moonlighter," it had a nice ring to it. Anyhow, it didn't matter what anyone called you – you weren't anymore a criminal than the congressman that had been elected to represent the United Planets of Amerigo. You reminded yourself of this fact whenever that aching sense of guilt began to creep up on you.
While your particular skillset was generally described as illegal, you were too good at what you did to stop. Besides, you only ever stole from the people who could afford it, so how wrong could your actions really be?

            The life of a thief isn't nearly as glamorous as it's made out to be. On a day like this one, you're running errands like any other Philian. It's been a good week for you; you've traded in a few stolen items for a few pieces of argentum. With the week's funds, you decide it's time to buy new curtains for your current living quarters – perhaps you'll splurge on some fresh produce for dinner.

            It's in the open-aired marketplace that you spot your target. You weren't even looking for a target today, but he manages to catch your eye. He stands out in his white officer's uniform against the sea of brown and green common clothes, and golden lines along the side of his face mark him as Franco nobility.
Even if he wasn't literally glowing in the low Philian sunlight, his straight posture and height made him stand out like a fish on a waterless planet in the marketplace.

            Again, you hadn't planned on running a job today, but when he showed up in the marketplace like that, you didn't have a choice. After tailing the man for a few blocks, you set your plan in motion. A con you've pulled off nearly a dozen times, and it has yet to fail you.

            The Franco is minding his business in the street, and you, a careless young girl who isn't being mindful of where she's going, crashes into him with the grace and composure of an on-fire spaceship. He's quick to apologize, a fact that you note, the both of you knowing you are the one at fault here. You mention this, apologizing to him profusely for your mindlessness. Eyes trained low to the ground – it's safer this way – you fix the invisible wrinkles you have caused to his suit jacket. Another hasty apology on your part, and you slip away from him, escaping back into the bustling crowds of the marketplace. You think this will be the last time you see him.

            You've long forgotten about the curtains and produce you had set out to buy. When you are safely back in the confides of your shabby apartment, you pull your treasure out from your pocket. A golden medallion with a lovely eagle insignia emblazoned onto the metal. Tapping it with your nails, you come to the conclusion that not only is this real, but it's worth a fortune. The medallion would cover months – maybe a year's worth of expenses. You study the medallion for a moment longer before placing the chain around your neck and tucking it into your clothes. You'll save it for a rainy day.

            The next time you see the Franco, there is an explosion on your street.

            It's a few weeks after that day in the marketplace, maybe a month. On this particular morning, you are trying to enjoy your breakfast in peace. Halfway through a papaya, you're reminded of the war that's been ravaging entire systems. Beneath your feet, the ground shakes and you hear an explosion outside your window. When you go to see what the commotion is, you find a building down the block is set on fire, and forces in dark blue and red are firing at each other from either side of the street.