The howl of the wind and the rattling the of the shutters woke Jarvan. He opened his eyes slowly, blurred against the few hours of sleep he had gotten and the bitter cold of the stone that surrounded him.
Great, the hospital, this is exactly where I didn't want to end up again. He sat up slightly, looking around, a moment of surprise washing over him as he looked around, expecting to find nothing but a sea of sterile white. Jarvan grunted as he tried to sit up, hissing as his feet hit the cold stone floor and immediately sending a wave of clarity through his mind. The distant clicking of a nurse passing by faded from the air, leaving an unnerving stillness to the cool air. Jarvan yawned and took a few moments to slide his boots on, grunting and kicking at the damnable metal grieves when he couldn't pull the on as easily as he had taken them off.
"Fucking boot." Jarvan sat back in the chair, still much to tired to try and deal with the boot at the moment, instead, taking a few minutes to take in his surroundings. As he looked up at the ceiling, arching columns of stone reached from ceiling to floor, supporting the upper floors and providing excellent hangings for hextech lanterns, though the golden metal brackets lay dark and cold in the early morning stillness. Jarvan looked at the walls and the angled blocks of stone, rough-hewn, but in a tasteful way, stretching up and down the massive walls. Around him, there was a heavy white curtain that had been pulled around the single occupied bed in the cubicle, providing a modicum of privacy. Jarvan creased his brow slightly, reaching his hand out to run along the heavy white cloth, its surface cool to the touch.
Where... A moment of realization washed over him. Right, the Academy. Jarvan leaned forward and ran his hands over his face, blinking a few times and then running his hands back over his head, smoothing his bed ridden hair, leaning back and taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as he looked around.
Jarvan glanced around the room, finally finding what he was looking for hung at the far end of the long hallway, hung high above the doorway that led from the hall. The clock shown six-thirty in the morning.
Three hours... if that... Jarvan shuddered and looked to the bed next to him, a mess of red hair sprouting from the large, comfy looking pillow, the blankets pulled up to her nose. The blankets rose and fell with the sound of soft breathing coming from within. Jarvan smiled softly as he exposed his hand and brushed a few strands of the ruby red hair from her face, the dragoness stirring for only a brief moments before her rhythmic breathing resumed.
Jarvan leaned back, though his eyes stayed glued to Shyvana's face, the pink-flushed pale skin gleaming like polished china in the dim light. They had arrived late the previous night after the dragoness had already been moved from the hospital to here in one of the wings of the infirmary of the Demacian Martial Academy. The medical school was close by, and though Jarvan had spoken with the nurse about keeping the rabble out, his appearance and the already circulating rumors of the Shyvana's heroic rescue efforts had caused quite the buzz. Jarvan shook his head at the memory of the MPs having been summoned to shoo the students back to their beds. "Rest well, Shyvana. Enough for the both of us."
"Up already, sir?" Delancey said, looking up from where she was sitting on the floor, her back to the bed, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She tried to blink the weariness away as she pushed herself up and yawned, but as she smothered the yawn she blushed slightly. She tried to look alert and attentive, but there were heavy bags under her eyes and she looked like she had just gotten off of a forty hour guard duty assignment. Jarvan yawned as well, glaring at Delancey as she smiled sheepishly. Jarvan shook his head and let his shoulders slacken as he started struggling with his boots again.
Delancey blinked a few times, "I feel like I just went to sleep." Jarvan grumbled, pushing the blanket aside and standing up, stretching his back and cracking his neck, looking at the clock again. He exhaled slowly as he clicked the latches of the straps of his boots, kicking them gently against the stone to seat his foot properly. Jarvan glanced down at the young sergeant as she yawned a second time, pity befalling him. "Here." Jarvan said, gesturing to the padded chair. "I don't need it right now."
"Where are you going?" Delancey said, eying him curiously, pushing herself to her feet and yawning again, pushing a mess of blonde hair back over her shoulder and tugging it out of her eyes. She pulled the blanket tighter over her shoulders and frowned ruefully at the prince as he finished fastening the
"Out." Jarvan grunted, looking towards the wind-rattled shutters that were closed against the weather. A tall window arched up the wall at the head of Shyvana's bed, a frown on his face as the shutters rattled mightily again, snow battering against them.
"In that weather, sir?" Delancey said, eying the fact that outside the window, what was barely visible through the thin gaps in the shudders was almost pure white. Delancey shook her head. "It's a blizzard out there, sir. You probably cant see more than a few feet."
"I need to take a walk." Jarvan said, shaking his head. He stepped up to the side of Shyvana's bed and looked down at her, a small smile on his face that hovered on the very edge of becoming a frown. Delancey looked at the princes eyes, and though he was smiling, she saw pain in the pale blue-gray orbs. He brushed some of the red locks from her face, leaning down and kissing her gently on her forehead. "Seeing her like this brings back a lot of painful memories." Jarvan shook his head and shivered as he pulled his uniform jacket from the back of the chair and tugged it on, buttoning the tunic up and straightening it across his chest. "I want to just sit here and hold her hand until she wakes, but I think having to sit here and watch her lie wounded and helpless... it would drive me mad." He ran his hand gently along the top of the thick wool blanket that covered the wound in her side. Bandages covered most of her lower torso, wrapped over the same place Jarvan had once stitched up himself. The three long, thin scars had been barely visible on her waist, almost completely gone, but now there was a massive wound that covered the scars up.
Demacia is already beginning to erase the evidence of our time together. Jarvan shook his head and shivered, straightening up and trying not to dwell on his father's words from before. A moment of anger coursed through his body, stiffening his body, but he stopped himself and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Shyvana stirred again, groaning quietly as she turned her head, revealing a bandage that ran along her cheek.
"I understand, sir." Delancey responded softly, looking up at the clock and then rubbing her eyes through her eyelids. She blinked a few times to clear her vision and looked up to Jarvan. "Where do you want to go?"
Jarvan watched Shyvana quietly for a moment and sighed, tucking a few locks her hair aside her face and brushing a finger gently along her cheek, carefully running over a bandage. His brow creased slightly, the bandage so much courser than her soft skin. Shyvana stirred slightly, but her chest continued to rise and fall rhythmically. "You're not going anywhere." Jarvan murmured as he shook his head, continuing to watch the dragoness.
Delancey fought to hide the stupid look of shock she knew she was wearing as she tugged the blanket tighter around her shoulders and frowned. "Sir, I can't let you go out in this weather alone, hell, I'm not supposed to leave you alone at all. That's why I'm your bodyguard." Jarvan turned his gaze to Delancey. She inhaled sharply; his eyes were hard and cold. The sadness was gone, but there was no warmth either.
"I want you to stay here and keep an eye on Shyvana while I'm gone." The prince said firmly, his tone of voice forestalling any comments from the young sergeant. "With Jormander gunning for me and the fact that there is still that asshat who shot me on the loose, I don't want to leave Shyvana alone right now. If that accident on the east road was designed to kill her, then our opponent is capable and willing of killing anyone who gets in the way, including foreigners and dignitaries. They have no qualms about hurting people, and Shyvana is easily the quickest and safest way to attack me as far as manipulation goes."
"You think someone would try and attack her?" Delancey said, aghast as she pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders.
"I do." Jarvan growled. "Until I can find out who is behind it or I can find someone else to protect her, you're the only person I can trust right now."
"Thank you... I think." Delancey said frowning. "Why trust me, though?" Her brow furrowed slightly, her shoulders drawing closer together and she looked to the ground thoughtfully.
"Why shouldn't I?" Jarvan asked, a moment of genuine surprise clear on his face.
"I mean..." She frowned as if she were debating about something in her mind. "My father was executed from treason, my mother is in a mental hospital and you don't know anything about me. And yet you would trust me with the most important thing in your life?" Her gaze drifted to Shyvana and then back to the prince, waiting nervously for a scathing reply.
"The fact that you have to ask this questions only serves to reinforce my trust in you." Jarvan said softly. "You know the pain of loss and the anger that comes from having felt betrayed by your country." Delancey blinked a few times as if she weren't believing what she were hearing. The prince simply shrugged. "If I didn't think you didn't genuinely care about everyone you worked with, for their health and well being, as well as their feelings, I wouldn't have put up with the high-pitched voice and the almost oppressively outgoing and positive attitude." Delancey's growing smile suddenly turned to hurt shock.
"You think my voice is annoying?" She said sadly, glancing to the the floor. "And I didn't mean to be so happy all the time. If you want I can-..."
Jarvan set his hand on her shoulder and shook her head as she looked up and met his gaze. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Del." He smiled softly, though the pain had returned to his eyes. "It has helped make these trying times bearable. It's refreshing."
"Thank you, sir." Delancey squeaked quietly, blushing. She pulled a hand from the blanket and saluted casually, giving Jarvan and proud and beaming smile. "I appreciate your trust, sir! I won't let you down!" Jarvan nodded and his smile grew a bit wider, but Delancey narrowed her eyes as she glared at him. "But that doesn't change the fact sir, I can't let you leave unguarded."
"Damn." Jarvan chuckled with a faint smile. He shook his head and shrugged. "You're not going to. He should be arriving soon." The sound of the door opening and closing at the far end of the hallway echoed around the room. The silence was punctuated by the soft clank of metal grieves on stone and Jarvan gestured for Delancey to check who it was as she glared at him accusingly. She moved to the curtain and swept it back. She snapped to attention and tried to salute, though her hands got tangled inside the blanket.
"Beautiful morning, isn't it Sergeant Major?" She said brusquely, eying the noncom's snow covered boots and the snow that was stuck to his hat and shoulders. She swept the curtain further back to let him enter.
"What are you, a fucking weatherman now?" The sergeant major growled as he stepped past. Delancey's mouth fell open. The sergeant major wore a thin, sarcastic grin as he extended a steaming mug to Delancey as she closed the curtain, a scowl on her face. "Here."
"Coffee?" Jarvan sniffed the air, his eyes brightening slightly, a smile starting to grow on his face.
"Brewed hot and strong enough to dissolve glass." The sergeant major said nodding, handing Jarvan a mug as well. Delancey accepted her mug, wrapping her hands around the barrel and taking a deep breath of the steam that rose from the top, sighing contently as the steam threatened to dissolve her face.
"That smells amazing..." She murmured, sipping the liquid tepidly, sighing again happily as it immediately started to warm her from within.
"They just put out a fresh pot when I was getting here." Perrywinkle said, leaning against the end of the bed, looking over his shoulder at the dragoness. "I figured a couple of cups wouldn't go amiss here. How's the girl?"
"She got out of surgery successfully late last night." Jarvan said, frowning as he looked down at Shyvana, running a hand gently over her shoulder. "However, the doctor said there is some sort of residual effects from the machine that she saved that damned Yordle Scientist from. Something about how the machine was designed to absorb mana from natural sources and then store it to be discarded later has caused the wound to not be healing properly."
"So wait, she's not healing properly?" The sergeant major looked down at her and frowned slightly. "She looks a bit pale I suppose, but she always looked a bit thin and pale if you ask me." He grunted and shrugged.
"I don't know, honestly." Jarvan shook his head. "Apparently the wound isn't getting affected by health potions, so she has to let it heal naturally. Doc says she heals faster than normal, but he doesn't know how long that's going to take because of the machine. They brought her here to have a biology professor who's a doctor take a look at her." The sergeant major grunted and stood back, reconsidering the young dragoness, taking a half step away from her and the bed as if she had the plauge. "Don't worry, sergeant major. She's safe to be around. As long as you don't make her angry, that is."
"Sir." The sergeant major nodded, though he still kept a wary eye on her.
"Alright, Del." Jarvan said, taking his coat from where it had been tucked under the edge of Shyvana's bed and shook it out. He pulled it on and grimaced against the clammy fabric. "I want you to stay here with Shyvana and try and get some rest, you look like shit."
"I'll say." The sergeant major said with a huff, looking the young sergeant over, eying her wild hair and the dower look on her face.
"Bite me, you ass." Delancey growled, glaring at the sergeant major over the top of the mug of coffee. "And thanks for the coffee... sir." The sergeant major snorted and waved his hand dismissively as he moved to curtain
"There's more in the lobby if you want it." He stopped and pulled the curtain back. He stepped out of the the small area cordoned off for Shyvana and looked around, taking a few moments to simply listen. He finally nodded to himself and gestured that it was all clear. He stood just outside, holding the curtain back, waiting for the prince. "Shall we, sir?"
"Yeah." Jarvan murmured, his eyes still lingering on Shyvana. He glanced at both Delancey and Perrywinkle, giving them a hard glare before he leaned down and kissed Shyvana on the forehead before he stood up straight, straightened his jacket and headed to the door. "Keep an ear out, Del. Or keep it discreet if you decide to get some sleep. I'll be back in a few hours."
"Yes sir." Delancey said, sliding in the chair next to Jarvan, pulling the blanket around her shoulders, still nursing the cup of coffee. "Stay warm out there."
The prince nodded, and stepped past the curtain, pausing to take a last glance at the redheaded young woman who was lain up in bed. He sighed and then gestured for the sergeant major to follow him, taking off down the corridor, pausing only to let the sergeant major to close the door to the infirmary hall the dragoness was resting in. The sergeant major gave the door a quick tug to check it was closed properly and then nodded to Jarvan as they turned headed down the hall. Jarvan paused in the foyer of the Academy's Medical School and infirmary building to toss off the last of his coffee and discard the mug on a tray for used mugs next to the coffee pot. He paused, staring at the shining silver pot for a brief moment before he turned away. He fell in with the sergeant major as they stepped down to the main door. There were several guards posted just inside the door, both in full armor and looking tired and slightly distracted. Jarvan frowned as he looked at the guards, pulling his gloves on and glaring at them as he did. The sergeant major noticed the prince's disapproving glare and cleared his throat, both men starting and then snapping to attention, saluting the prince as the sergeant major posted his fists on his hips and glared at them.
Jarvan grunted as the soldiers dropped their salutes, falling back to parade rest, though they looked a bit surprised though now looking a bit more attentive. The sergeant major opened the door and moved through, gesturing for Jarvan to follow as he looked through the white blizzard that roared past. Snow and wind seeped through the doorway, though much of the snow flew horizontally past the doorway.
"Where to, sir?" The sergeant major said, eying the snow storm that was blowing outside with notable trepidation.
"Just a few errands and then I need to find someone." Jarvan sighed, pushing the door open. "Let's go."
"Anything else, sir?" Sergeant Major Perrywinkle asked, looking at the small sack that Jarvan carried under one arm. The prince looked down at the bag and frowned for a moment and shook his head.
"That should be it for my errands. Just one last think to take care of now." Jarvan said, pausing, flipping his collar up against the wind and grimacing as he tried to peer through snow. Though the wind had died down noticeably, the snow was still coming down hard and fast, and thus the streets were deserted. Most of the businesses hadn't been open, so the prince had to curtailed his errands, but he had found the few things he had wanted and some others. Jarvan looked over his shoulder and frowned slightly, trying to look through the snow, but he gave up and growled, tucking his gloved hands into his jacket pockets and held the bag of good under his arm. "Follow me."
"You keep asking smithies about one particular blacksmith." The sergeant major murmured as he followed along side the prince. "Surely if you wanted a piece of armor or arms crafted for yourself you can find a smithy who's just as good in the city. I bet even the Demacian Armory has a few smithies that are easily as good."
"It's not possessions I want from him. I want information." Jarvan huffed, his breath steaming as he shook his head. He cast a wary glance over his shoulder and then took a deep breath, letting it out slowly in a tired growl. "I need to know about a special pair of daggers he created for someone."
"I suppose that's why you visited the Merchant Guild's headquarters." The sergeant major said, his hand settling on the combat knife that hung on his waist. His brow darkened slightly for a moment as he stopped and looked back down the street they had come up, but he only watched the empty street for a few moments, peering through the snow before turning back to the prince, shaking his head.
"Something up, sarge?" Jarvan said, looking at the sergeant major with a bit of a frown.
"Hmmm..." The sergeant major growled as he glanced back over his shoulder, but he shook his head and gestured for the prince to keep going. "Nothing sir. Just my imagination." He fell back into step as Jarvan continued trudging through the snow. The sergeant looked to the prince. "And you're sure you have the right smith? I thought you didn't find any information out from the Merchant's Guild."
"I may not have found what I was looking for, but the lack of information may have told me almost as much as finding what I was looking for." Jarvan paused at an intersection, examining both of the narrow pathways that broke off of the street he stood on. "This way."
"But my contact in the Merchant's Guild said the records aren't there." The sergeant major growled thoughtfully. "How could you tell anything if the records weren't there?" The sergeant major worked his jaw for a moment and frowned, thinking. "Well, I suppose if the information wasn't in the Merchant Guild's records that means the daggers you're looking for were either made illegally due to the restrictions on weapon crafting, or they were clever fakes designed to look like the sword you examined in Lorcan's office." The sergeant major's brow darkened. "Either way-..." He stopped as Jarvan raised a hand to stop his train of thought.
"You're forgetting one possibility." Jarvan said with a thin smile.
"What?" The sergeant major growled, casting Jarvan a curious frown.
"The records were removed." Jarvan hissed ominously.
A moment of revelation turned to shock and then a dark frown on the sergeant major's face. "You mean-..."
Jarvan forestalled further comment with a nod. "The Merchant's Guild is guarded and monitored by the Demacian Government. With the strict policies regarding weapon crafting that were implemented at the end of the last great war due to the abuses of magic swords and other weapons, the creation of weapons in Demacia was strictly regulated by the government and the military. That means if the daggers were made within the last century, the records would have to be there." Jarvan frowned slightly. "Unless the merchant moved here after make the daggers, and even then he would have had to turn over his own records for inspection if he wanted a business license. That still means the daggers were created off the records and that's illegal in all of Demacia and most of the other city states and their holds."
"That's possible, but if the daggers were cast here in Demacia, that means there is something deviant going on. If the records were removed or destroyed..." The sergeant major grimaced and looked to Jarvan ominously, his face paler than normal. "Sir, this matter is extremely dangerous. This isn't something you should be dealing with on your own."
"Why do you think I brought you in on this?" Jarvan said with a thin smile. He stopped at the entrance to a narrow alleyway, looking back at the sergeant major. "You've got connections that run deep within all of the branches of the military. You've got the know how and the experience that makes a discreet investigation into Demacian high command possible. You served with my grandfather long enough that he trusts you with both his and my lives. That's enough reason for me to trust you." Jarvan's voice dropped to a menacing growl. "Unless you aren't up to the job?"
"A mole hunt, eh?" The sergeant major growled, scratching his jaw and meeting the prince's gaze as his expression turned from menacing and dangerous to a broad smile that was twisted and scary. "Lead the way, sir. I'm ready and willing."
Jarvan nodded and smiled, starting down the alley way. "I have to say, the most recent attack has me confused."
"What's confusing about an assassination attempt?" Perrywinkle grunted, casting an uncertain glare along the alley that Jarvan had disappeared down. He shook his head and followed the prince down the alley.
"They attack us, kill no one, and then run and hide." Jarvan said, frowning as he ducked around a trash bin. "Smell like an ambush to you, sarge?"
Perrywinkle grunted but shrugged, kicking an empty soup tin out of his way. "If they're close enough to kill us, we're close enough to kill them."
"Point made." Jarvan said with a knowing grin.
"Speaking of getting killed, where exactly are we going?" Perrywinkle growled, his gaze drifting over the snow covered courtyard the alley opened up into. It was unadorned, mostly covered in snow, only the vague outlines of trashcans, containers and other cast out rubbish barely discernible under the heavi blanket of snow that covered the ground. "I don't recognize this place."
"I'd be surprised if you did." Jarvan smirked. He paused, looking around the courtyard, watching the roof lines and frowning slightly. Something dark flashed along the roof line, and Jarvan raised his finger to his lips to silence the sergeant major as he opened his mouth to speak.
"Something up, sir?" The sergeant major whispered as he dropped into a defensive stance, his hand moving to his belt and the knife that hung from it. "Who goes there!?" He barked, stepping in front of the prince and raising an arm defensively across Jarvan's chest. "Show yourself!"
"Take it easy, sarge." Jarvan said, gesturing for the sergeant major to put his knife away. "She won't hurt us."
"She?" The sergeant major raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Jarvan nodded and turned back towards the roof line, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"Quinn!" Jarvan shouted into the wind, his eyes still following the edge of the roof line, looking for the young tracker somewhere in the swirling mass of freezing white weather. "Quinn, I know you're out there! Come out!"
There was a piercing shriek as a large bird, battling the snow and ice, dove down and nearly crashed into Jarvan. He held his arm out for the bird, though as it hovered close by, riding the wind currents, it watched him with its piercing golden eyes. Jarvan raised his arm, waiting as the Demacian eagle eyed him curiously.
"Remember me, Valor?" Jarvan said, again holding his arm out for the bird. It finally settled on his arm, rustling its feathers, its chest rising and falling rapidly from battling the elements. "You're pretty heavy for a bird you know?" Jarvan said, looking to the sergeant major, the man's normally unphased expression ruined by his mouth hanging open, dumbstruck. The bird squawked and swatted the prince's face with his blue feathered wing. "Ow, okay, okay." Jarvan grunted, chuckling softly. He reached out towards the bird gingerly, letting the eagle examine his hand before he stroked its head and the feather's along its chest.
"What in the world..." The sergeant major stammered, finally finding his voice, trying to recover his dignity. "Is that..."
"Meet Valor, one of the last remaining Demacian Eagles in Valoran." Jarvan said, stroking the bird's chin. "It's good to see your wing is healing well, Valor." The bird squawked, stretching his wings as he stepped along Jarvan's arm, nearly getting knocked over by a gust of wind that swept through the courtyard.
"This is the bird that belonged to that girl you saved from Demsec yesterday, right?" The sergeant major said, reaching towards it and then yanking his hand back as the eagle snapped its beak at him. "Stupid bird." Jarvan barely caught the last few words, but the derisive squawk from Valor showed that the bird had heard heard it. The sergeant major crossed his arms over his chest and eyed the bird suspiciously, as if he were having a staring contest with it.
Jarvan nodded. "Yep, this is him." He turned to the bird and glanced around the courtyard and frowned. "Valor, can you go and fetch Quinn for me? I need to speak with her." The eagle's head spun and he blinked his golden eyes as he glared at Jarvan for several moments before squawking again. He spread his wings and took over, immediately disappearing into the sky. Jarvan glanced over and grinned as he watched the sergeant major who was still staring off into the sky. "Come on, Sergeant Major. You gotta keep up."
"I'll try, sir." Perrywinkle muttered, frowning as his hand settled on his knife.
It wasn't more than ten minutes before a distant thump and then the slow trudging of footsteps through the snow signified the approach of someone else in the courtyard. Perrywinkle stepped forward, interceding himself between Jarvan and the approaching footsteps. He started to pull his knife out of its sheath, but Jarvan raised his hand dismissively to stop him. He only had the knife part way out of the sheath, but he didn't release the blade yet. A small human form faded out of the snow, the dark brown cloak casting an odd silhouette as the bird squawked and snapped its beak from the shoulder of the small feminine figure. The figure kneeled before Jarvan in a formal bow.
"You need not bow." Jarvan said, extending his hand and helping the young woman up.
"How did you know I was following you?" Quinn muttered, partially annoyed, partially impressed, pulling back her hood just enough to let her golden eyes shine in the dim light. A smile shown in her eyes as she tugged her scarf down and grinned at the prince. "Good to see that asshole didn't fuck with your head so much you'd let that get by you."
"I've actually had a sinking suspicion that you've been following me as best you could ever since I had you released." Jarvan said, grinning thinly. "I will say, I was a bit surprised you had Valor watching me, but when the sergeant major sensed something, and I couldn't see anyone, I figured someone was following us, and Valor's eyesight would be the best way in this sort of weather."
"Impressive." Quinn said, nodding, wearing a cocky smile as she shrugged, the bird shifting on her shoulder. "This snow is child's play for us. What can I do for you, prince?"
"I'm glad it is, because I have a favor to ask of you." Jarvan said seriously, taking Quinn by surprise. She furrowed her brow slightly as she glared at him. She finally crossed her arms over her chest and nodded. "I want you to keep an eye on Shyvana for me."
"Spying on your girlfriend?" Quinn said, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Hardly seems proper. Don't you have have an entire brigade of intelligence spooks and assholes for that sort of thing? Or did you guys have a fight and you want me to make sure she's not fooling around?" The smile softened her teasing tone, but Jarvan's hardened frown quelled her jokes. "Something happened..." Her brow furrowed as she looked at the sergeant major and back to Jarvan. "You've got a bodyguard out here as well. You think she's in danger?"
The prince softened his frown slightly and nodded. "I'm afraid someone is either going to hurt her to get to me or try and hold her to use as leverage against me."
"Good luck with trying to hold her down..." Quinn muttered. "You can't lock up a force of nature."
"Which is why I'm worried." Jarvan growled, shaking his head. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling the wear and tear of the past 3 years catching up with him for a few brief moments. It was if the specters of all of his brethren were watching over him, the ominous presences swirling around him like the snow. "Last time they simply tried to have her killed off."
"If the threat is that serious, why don't you get one of your men look after her?" Quinn proposed, glancing at the sergeant major. He growled at her and the prospect of playing babysitter to someone who was less capable than his current boss. Quinn smiled cheekily, but she turned back to Jarvan as he shook his head. His eyes fell to the snow on the ground. The bags under his eyes and the wrinkles just starting to pull at the corners of his eyes spoke of the pain and trouble he had already suffered. Gone was the youthful vitality and energy that had sparkled in his pale blue eyes, replaced with the painful dull sheen of a man stretched too thin.
"I don't have many that I can trust." Jarvan said, shaking his head. "Forsythe is still in the hospital for who knows how long, Delancey is with Shy now, and the sergeant major here is serving as my bodyguard." Jarvan shook his head. "You're the only one left I can trust, Quinn."
The young tracker blushed, but nodded, surprised. "I suppose I can try and keep an eye on her." Quinn said, shrugging. "You're worried about that Jormander asshole trying to have her raped while she's in the hospital, aren't you?"
A dark and brooding look settled on Jarvan's face as he glared at Quinn. He nodded tersely. "I'll reward you for your time and efforts if you want..." Jarvan started to say, but Quinn shook her head and smiled.
"I'll do it." Quinn said nodding, looking to Valor.
"Thank you." Jarvan said, bowing his head, closing his eyes as he breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up and then blinked a few times, glancing left and right, looking for the young tracker.
She was gone.
"She do that often?" The sergeant major growled, looking up to a ledge just below the main roof line, his eyes following something along the roof until it disappeared into the heavy snow. "Surprisingly nimble though."
"Sometimes." Jarvan shrugged. "Come on, let's get back. I'm tired of being out in the cold."
"Sir." The sergeant major growled, his eyes still looking up to the roof.
…
Squawk.
"He gives me some weird vibes too, Val." Quinn murmured as she fell back over the top of the roof-line, leaning over and peering down towards where Jarvan and the sergeant major headed back to the main road. "Though it's not as bad as that tall black haired one. Something's off about that one."
Squa-squawk.
"I can't do anything about it right now." Quinn muttered, frowning. She turned and looked out over the top of the houses, trails of smoke belching from chimneys in the cold air and snow. She frowned, scanning behind her along the tops of the houses for anyone following her. She shook her head and then sighed. "I'm getting too paranoid."
Squawk.
"Yeah, I know they're out there somewhere." Quinn muttered, shivering as a gust of wind got under her hood. She pulled her scarf up over her face and turned to Valor, stroking his throat. "I need you to look after Jarvan for me, Val." The bird cocked his head to the side and cooed softly at her. Quinn blushed softly and shook her head. "Don't say it, stupid bir—OW!" Quinn rubbed her arm where the eagle had nipped her in protest. "Valor!" She started to swat the bird's head but he had already taken to the air and caught a gust of wind that carried him high and out of sight.
Quinn rubbed her arm, glaring at the bird as he rose out of sight, spiraling out of of view. "Stupid bird." She blushed, muttering. "I do NOT have a crush on Jarvan!"