Aleks stood up, felt forward blindly with his hands outstretched. He had spent the last several minutes waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the dungeon only to discover that there was not any light at all.
He quickly found the edge of the cell and began feeling along for the door. The hinges were on the other side this time. That was bad for him, but he was honestly a little glad for it. He was a Glaevor after all. It was disappointing how many of his countrymen had no idea of even the basic elements of cell design. This was one point in Lord Barold's favor.
Unfortunately for Barold, he had also put a large barred window in the center of the door. Rookie mistake.
Aleks pulled his mother's old hairpins from one boot. Then he reached his hand through the window and began picking the lock on the other side.
Really, these people didn't know anything.
Or at least, they were missing relevant experience. Aleks had spent hours as a boy hiding from his peers. At one point he had found a safe haven in the rafters of a craftsman's shop. He had lain there for an hour or so and watched him carve a simple lock. That had got him thinking—were all locks made the same as that one—held close only by those small springy bits in the middle? Well, then anything small enough could push them open! It did not matter if the thing stuck in was actually a key.
Hence the hairpins.
"You don't look like a professional criminal!" came a mocking voice from behind him.
Aleks jumped, almost dropping his tools. He had thought he was alone. Was there someone else in his cell? He looked back—and was met with only darkness.
"I don't look like a criminal?" he retorted, "What am I, the wrong shade of dark grey? It's impossible to see in here!"
The stranger chuckled. A man's voice. Judging by the sound, he must be sitting in the far corner of the cell. How long had he been laying here in silence?
"I could see you before," the stranger said, "When the guards brought you in, they came with torches. You're supposed to be some kind of wanted man, right? You look like a child."
Aleks shrugged, though the gesture was probably lost on his companion. "Looks are pretty good at deceiving. And I'm even better."
He hoped so at least. If he said it enough times, somebody was bound to believe him.
No response came, so Aleks felt around again for the opening of the lock. He had pulled out the hairpins when he was startled. Now that he knew he was not alone, the dungeon felt that much eerier. Like the other prisoner had said, the guards came with lights. They spoke with each other too—it must be boring down here otherwise. But now he could not stop thinking about the thousand other things which might be waiting to jump at him from every shadow.
"What's your name?" he blurted. If he could not fill this space with light, he would fill it with chatter.
"Oh, are we exchanging pleasantries now?" the man said, "Maybe we'll stop off at the local inn sometime in the near future and get lunch together?"
"You have to be bored." Aleks retorted. He was bored himself—he had sat here for a bit, staring at nothing, waiting to see if the guards would come back. He could imagine doing the same sort of nothing for the next forever, and he did not like the mental picture that painted. "Hey—want to escape with me in the next five minutes or so?"
The stranger snorted. "And go where?"
"I dunno. Where are you from?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Aleks felt rather than heard the first springy piece click in the lock. He really should have asked that locksmith for the correct names of the lock parts. He was going to sound really stupid if he ever had to explain his lock-picking process to a friend.
"Here," the man said, "I have a vineyard on Lord Barold's lands. I didn't want to change what I grew to cater to him, so he repossessed it."
Holding the first hairpin in place, Aleks slid in the next one and began working on the next springy piece. "Okay, so escape with me and you can find a different vineyard somewhere else."
"My wife is still at home. Also if you step outside of this cell you'll be killed in about three minutes. I think I'll stay here, wait this whole thing out."
The next hairpin clicked. Cautiously, Aleks turned them and pushed forwards. The door opened, and he stepped out.
"Alright," he said, "If you're certain. Good sir, I wish you lunch. Luck. But also lunch."
The man laughed again, and the sound echoed slightly against the stone walls. "Ha! I'm a sir now?"
Aleks closed the door behind him, slowly so the latch would not make noise. "What else would I call you? You never told me your name."
Thanks for reading! This was originally written in response to the following anonymous prompt:
Random Dialogue Prompt:
"You don't look like a professional criminal."
[Insert sassy reply of your choice here]
am I thinking of a specific character? probably. but also anything is fine