Fantasy AU. PLEASE.

Hmm... would gaslight fantasy do? (think steampunk with magic instead) Because I'm working on something on those lines already, and I could do an extract, maybe...

They called the thief the Spider of Breven.

In return, the Jansai called slander. They lifted their voices in a chorus of outrage; they banged on the table with heavy fists, their bejeweled wrists and fingers flashing in the candlelight, their heavy jowls trembling in indignation, howling that the criminal could not possibly be one of theirs.

Archangel Nicolas didn’t argue. He left it to Phillip to reason with them, to elucidate how, while it was true that reports of the Spider had come from across Samaria – from the filigree towers of Semorrah to the streets of blue Luminaux, from the sprawling homes of the Mandaavi to the market town of Velora at the foot of the Eyrie – their seemingly random nature in fact coincided precisely with the movement of certain Jansai caravans.

It was a canny choice on the Archangel’s part. The Jansai liked Phillip. At least, they liked the fact that he was a mortal, being suspicious of angels in general and Nicolas in particular. But still they refused to admit to any wrongdoing, claiming that they were honest men, traders and merchants merely trying to scratch out a living from the poor soil of Breven.

Clint had known Jansai wealthier than any Mandaavi landowner, and he had never met one that he would trust to watch his back. In his carefully-considered opinion, they were all con-men and thieves. But… well, one thing was true: they were not sneaks. They would rob you blind, but they would do so from the other end of the negotiation table, smiling widely as they spoke of tariffs and taxes and transportation fees. They were thieves, but they had elevated their larceny almost to an art form, and practiced it in broad daylight.

The Spider, however, was a creature of the shadows.

Later, after the summit, Nicolas took Clint aside. “I need you to find this Spider. Stop him. Quietly. But quickly. Before spring.”

Clint frowned, incredulous. “You think some petty thief is a danger to the Gloria?” It was difficult to imagine one man disrupting a gathering of such magnitude. And for what purpose?

“This is not just any thief. And this is not just any Gloria,” said Nicolas, whose twenty-year term as Archangel would end this spring. His successor had already been chosen by Jovah: the angel Maria, leader of the host at Monteverde. Clint liked Maria, her cleverness and her determination, but it would be some time before she had a tenth of Nicolas’s experience and command. Could the Spider be some deep-laid Jansai plan to undermine the office of the Archangel at a moment of weakness?

“Why me?” he asked Nicolas. There were near fifty other angels at the Eyrie, many of them the Archangel’s cronies, most with greater stature and influence among the host. It was difficult to believe that an important assignment would be entrusted to someone who’d spent most of his youth making a pest out of himself.

“Because,” said Nicolas gravely, “I trust your eyes.”

Read the rest at AO3 (http://archiveofourown.org/works/1195578)

Oooooh.... I might have to check out this book series now. =D