Menewsha Avatar Community - Count Marachai Thwarts the Bandit King

This was written for my Creative Writing class with emphasis on theme [if you could identify the theme for me, I'd be super thankful] So here goes:

Count Marachai's stomach roared in hunger. "Porche, can you get Bertuccio to bring the pinic basket? I am hungry." he asked his fiance who sat beside him. "Oh fine. Bertuccio! Charles wants to eat." she called, her high voice carrying over. "Yes, Madameosielle." Bertuccio, Marachai's tall black butler wearing a fine suit and dark sunglasses replied. He brought the basket over and began to serve them. "Oh, that is not nessessary. We will serve ourselves. " Marachai declared, passing the fine china plates around. He pushed back his past neck-length rust red hair behind his ears, revealing a single silver hoop in his right ear.

"Will you need me then? I will return to the carriage to tend to the hors-"
"Sit with us. Have a bite to eat. When was the last time you enjoyed your own cooking?" Marachai asked, passing Bertuccio a plate. Bertuccio stayed silent.
"Charles, we have no time to sit around and talk to mere menservants. The Summer Ball is tonight, remember? I need to get fitted for a dress." Porche interrupted, taking a sandwich off of Marachai's plate and biting into it. "Manners, Porche." Marachai replied, pouring himself a glass of red wine and taking a sip. "Oh shut up." she snapped.

A strong wind blew and her hat blew away. "My hat!" she exclaimed, nudging Marachai to go get it. "Go get it. It does not belong to me so it is not my problem." he replied, taking a bite from a sanwich. She groaned and chased after her runaway hat, out of the small park they were in and into the street. It was on top of their carriage. She took off her heels and tried to climb up the side of the carriage to get her hat, when the side of her thin blue silk dress tore. "Damn it!" she swore, grabbing the hat and jumping down. She put the hat in the carriage and went back to Count Marachai. "Charles my dress ripped! We should go home so I can change!" she angrily yelled. When she actually saw him, he was slumped over and asleep. "Damn narcoleptic forgetting to take his pill! Bertuccio, wake him up." she commanded, sitting down and drinking Marachai's wine and eating his food. Bertuccio shook Marachai's shoulders gently with no merit. He was out cold. "Wake up! You good for nothing-"

"Madamosielle, leave him be. We will be returning to his estate as he ordered." Bertuccio said, picking up Marachai and putting him in the carriage. Porche tossed the plates and glasses into the picnic basket and carelessly put it in the carriage. Bertuccio gave her the heels she almost forgot then latched the door shut from the outside. "Charles! Wake up!" Porche screeched. His head lolled to the right side. She crossed her arms and stared at her sleeping fiancé who wore a sliver and black vest, a ruffled white undershirt and black trousers. His sliver pocketwatch slipped out of a pocket in his vest and hung by its chain. Porche picked it up and stuffed it back into his pocket.

After a while, she got sleepy, and rested her head on his chest to take a small nap. That was prevented. The carriage stopped short, tossing them both violently forward. The door to the carriage was tossed open and Porche was dragged out by her long golden blonde hair. She screamed and thrashed, but it had no effect. A pistol was shoved into her face, causing her to get quiet. "Struggle and I will kill you." A deep voice said. She recognized it right away. It was the voice of the leader of the group of bandits who preyed upon the wealthy in Paris. From what she had heard, he really would kill her without a second thought, so she stayed quiet. She was tossed into another carriage with the leader of the bandits still clinging to her hair pointing a gun in her face. He let her go just long enough to tie a blindfold tightly around her eyes.

A few minutes later, she was tossed out of the carriage and lead to what she thought was a dungeon. The blindfold was removed from her eyes. She was indeed in a dungeon, and standing in front of her was the king of bandits. He was very tall and thin, wearing fine clothing obviously stolen from the wealthy men he'd killed. He was holding a hammer and nails.

"Lay her out on the floor." he commanded.
Before she could interpret those words, she was knocked down on he ground with a knee digging into her shoulder. She felt someone holding own her hand and a cold small point on the back of her hand. Marachai woke up suddenly in a cell. Blinking a few time, he registered that Porche was being held down and her hands were getting nailed to the wooden floor ofthe dungeon. "Porche! Porche! Answer me!" he called, trying to get out of the cell. It failed and she was screaming too loudly for him to be heard. He kicked at the long rusted bars in frustration and to his surprise, broke them. He crawled out of the cell through the large hole he created and looked for a weapon. "Touchiere! You have preyed upon Porche for the last time!" he called, grabbing the first sword he could find and pointing at the bandit king. "Oh what? You challenge me? Prepare to lose not just your bride, and your fortune, but your life as well." Touchiere replied, drawing his own sword and pointing it at Marachai.
Marachai growled and lunged at him, jumping over Porche and trying to stab him. He narrowly missed and parried the counterattack.

He punched Touchiere in the face with a hand adorned with heavy rings and kicked him down. "You were sayin-" Marachai was forcefully knocked down and punched hard in the face. He grabbed the sword and attempted to stab Touchiere through the throat. It failed but he stabbed through his chest. Marachai jumped up and kicked Touchiere off his sword. He turned to Porche, whose small hands were nailed to the floor. "Porche, are you okay?" he asked. "GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW!" she screamed. Marachai grabbed the hammer and used the nail remover to get the nails out. She screamed the whole time and when they were out, she clung tightly to Marachai and wouldn't let go, even when they returned to his estate. "So what happened?" Bertuccio asked nonchalantly as they walked inside. "Touchiere the bandit king got his comeuppance. He was the one who got me imprisoned. I am glad that is said and done." Marachai replied. Porche was still clinging tightly to him. "You can let go now. You cannot get harmed here. Would you like to lay down in my bedroom?” he asked, sitting her down on the sofa. She clung harder and started to cry. Bertuccio disappeared the appeared again with bandages. He carefully and gently bandaged her hands and gave her a shot of the strongest liquor they had. After a while, she was in a drunken sleep.

Feedback appreciated.