Disclaimer:
This fanfic is based off the Neverwinter Nights community module by the name of "A Dance with Rogues" created by Valine. I fell in love with this story and felt compelled to write something that compliments it. This story is rated Mature (NC-17) for explicit content and graphic violence. All characters except Shiloh, Bastian, Rhys, Nicca, Narev, and Essex are property of Valine.
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Little Beggar Girl
Shiloh made her way down Acorn Street, returning to the Bear Pit. She sneaked through the common room, careful not to bump into any of the tables. She didn't want anyone to know she wore so little beneath the concealing cloak. Up the stairs she crept, passing by Nelina and noting that Caron wasn't there as of yet. She exhaled deeply, not realizing that she had been holding her breath.
Upon reaching her room, Shiloh closed the door and threw off the cloak. She removed the lingerie and changed into a set of work clothes. The drab brown garment hugged her curves quite nicely. She brushed her long hair out, removing the many snarls and tangles then began to plait it into several long braids that she wound around her head. After securing each with a short length of leather string, she checked her handy work in one of Chella's mirrors. Then she headed out into the kitchen and stopped at one of the big ovens that hadn't been fired up as of yet. She cautiously stuck her hand inside, checking for any sign of heat. When she found none, she scooped up a small handful of ashes. Then she returned to Chella's room.
Artfully she applied the ash to her cheeks and even smeared some through her hair.
This would do nicely
. She grabbed the heavy cloak and made her way back down to the common room; intent on heading to Gaston's to pick up her beggar's costume.
Shiloh strolled through the streets, splashing through the puddles of rainwater that had gathered in the divots of the cobblestone thoroughfares. She giggled happily like a child, recalling the few times she had done that as a little girl before her governess had caught her and forced her back inside the castle. She noticed the disapproval on the faces of some of the commoners that she passed at her frivolity and continued on her merry way.
Crossing over a few side streets, she soon reached her destination and entered the building that housed the tailor shop. She meekly shuffled her way up to the tailor.
Gaston sniffed the air in a haughty manner and raised an eyebrow at her.
"You had best have a reason for befouling my shop, girl."
Shiloh poked her nose out from inside the hooded cloak and eyed him timidly before curtsying to him. She hoped her disguise had worked. "I am here on behalf of my mistress, Lady Belara," she spoke softly before lowering her eyes to the ground.
"Lady Belara, yes. I have her exemplar right here. Just put the finishing touches on it this morning."
"An exemplar?" She repeated, giving him a feigned look of ignorance. "I must have her costume or else she'll switch me terribly."
"An exemplar is a costume, stupid girl. Tell me, does she switch you often?" A look of interest entered Gaston's beady little eyes.
"Nearly every day. She says I am clumsy and lazy. I usually have many bruises. And my master is worse," she whispered and shuddered visibly.
Gaston sniffed the air as if he smelled something foul indeed. "Good help is so hard to find."
"Do you have the costume finished, Master Gaston?" Shiloh asked as she held out her dirty hand.
"I told you I have it right here," he huffed and muttered something under his breath about dim-witted servants.
"May I have it?"
"Yes, yes, girl, but be careful not to get it dirty. It is a masterpiece."
Shiloh accepted the garment from him and curtsied before him. Then she turned and plodded away to the door. She made a show of stumbling over her own feet and clumsily falling to her knees. She faked a cry and pulled herself up, knocking over a display of rich fabrics.
Master Gaston hissed at her and gave chase, intimidating her into picking the fallen bolts of cloth up. Once Shiloh had placed them in their rightful spot, she fearfully glanced at the tailor. "You won't tell me mistress, will you?" She rubbed her bottom with one hand while clutching the costume to her breasts with the other. Lifting the back of her skirt, she revealed the greenish purple bruises still marring her skin.
Gaston clucked his tongue and yanked her skirt back down. "Shameless wench! I shall indeed be informing your mistress! Now out with you," he grabbed her by one of her arms and dragged her to the door, pushing her out into the rain unceremoniously. She slipped on the wet pavement and landed on her bottom. The cry that came from her lips this time, however, was real. Her bottom smarted from the impact. Picking herself up, she headed back to the Bear Pit, ready to try out her beggar girl disguise.
O.O
Once back in her room again, she giggled and danced with glee over her success of fooling the tailor with her act. She must be getting good at this. Now she hoped she would have the same success of fooling the bodyguards upstairs and passing Chella's lesson.
Shiloh removed the cloak and her plain work dress and held the costume up in front of her body. By the gods, it was skimpy. Shiloh frowned and wondered why it had taken so long to be sewn. Perhaps it was not so much the sewing, but the dilemma of what to remove next.
She pulled on the tiny one sleeved shirt and looked herself over in the mirror. It barely covered her ample breasts, exposing her cleavage to the world. She couldn't have that. Surely Wesh and Warent would recognize her. So she removed the top and made strips of cloth out of the brown tunic Vico had made her wear the night he had taken her from the castle. Wrapping them around her chest, she bound her breasts, flattening them down until her large chest looked rather diminished. Then she pulled the top over it. She smiled out at her handy work. It looked so much better.
Next she grabbed the scrap of cloth that barely covered her bottom and slid it on. The red silken panties left half of her cheeks exposed.
So much for modesty
, she scoffed to herself.
To complete her disguise, she returned to the oven and grabbed another handful of cold ash from it. She smeared it all over herself and then checked her look in the mirror. She now felt fairly confident with her disguise.