Note: I don't own blizzard or WoW... I don't make any money off this story... Thank you to all who have reviewed. I really appreciate it! ^.^ I would also hope that if there's anything anyone thinks I can change to make the story better, please let me know! Constructive Criticism is readily welcomed! Have a good one and I hope you enjoy!

It was growing dark as they neared the final tower along the road. Crown Guard Tower rose up from the hill it sat on, almost identical to its sister towers in every way. Including the Crusade stationed there. Jinny was terrible at hiding her misgivings, though not for lack of trying. And she really did try. But her best attempt at a friendly smile ended up being a grimace, her eyes darting here and there. She stiffened as they approached a tall woman standing by a wagon laden with all manner of trinkets, cloths, baubles and the like. Jinny's eyes grew wide as she stared openly at the Worgen woman. Darreek chuckled.

"Close your mouth, Mage. You'll catch flies gaping like that."

Snapping her mouth shut, the little mage's eyes fell to the ground, blushing deeply and studying her feet as he walked up to the woman. She stayed back in the lengthening shadows of the evening and pulled her cloak around her so that all that was visible were her head and feet. The warrior spoke in hushed tones to the lady Worgen, who, only once, glanced over his shoulder to the little Blood Elf standing in shadow with what looked to be a smile in her eye. She turned to her cart, rummaging, lifting, shifting, moving things around. Finally, she seemed to find what she was looking for. Nimbly, the lady Worgen plucked a small box and some brown paper from her wagon. In short order, she handed Darreek a small package which he immediately shoved into a bag.

"We should see about finding some lodging," he said when he'd returned.

"Do we have to stay here?" she asked, disdain evident in her voice.

"It would be safer to stay in camp." He glanced at her and was a little surprised at her stricken expression. "But, I suppose, maybe we could stay at the bottom of the hill instead," he suggested to a very relieved little mage.

They made camp not far from the tower in a dilapidated house that was nothing more than a foundation with a few dejected wooden beams sticking out from the ground at strange angles. The small, crumbling fireplace was really the only remnant of domestication that was left of the small domicile. It was fitting, then, that Darreek made a small fire in the tiny hearth. He pulled two small, lifeless critters from his pack and set about preparing their meal as Jinny carefully removed her armor, taking special care with her shoulder. Though, she wasn't sure why she'd bothered. It didn't pain her anymore, save the occasional stiffness. What ever it was that the Night Elf woman had made her drink had made her shoulder mend very quickly. She tested it, rolling it in a small circle, moving a hand to massage the stiff muscle.

The mage loosened her robe and gently slid the cloth over her shoulder, exposing the bandage covering her wound. His back was to her, so she turned her back to the fire and started unwinding the bandages. It turned out to be a process in itself. Her first obstacle was the knot that had been tied to keep the dressing in place. Her nimble fingers fumbled uselessly at the fastening that was just behind her shoulder.

She gasped quietly when a warm hand covered hers. Jerking her head around, she came face to chest with him. The girl looked up to meet his eyes. There was only kindness there. A quiet reassurance. He was only trying to help. So she let him. She dropped her hands as he tried and failed miserably to untie the delicate little knot. He put up a valiant effort, trying over and over to get his thick fingers around the small, difficult lump of fabric. Ultimately, he pulled out his skinning knife and deftly cut the offending ball of cloth from its place to her quiet snickering. He looked at her, and she shook her head, silently telling him to continue. The warrior worked the bandage around her, being careful not to disturb her hands which held the part of the robe she'd pulled up to cover herself.

She murmured a thank you as he handed her the little mass of soft material. Softly, he placed his hands on her upper arms and turned her towards the fire. He studied the jagged wound that was now only an angry red scar. Jinny's eyes grew wide when she saw the wound. It really had been bad.

Darreek saw this and chuckled softly, the deep, velvety sound wrapping around her. Comforting her. He sat back on his heels and examined he crooked line of flesh where her skin had knitted itself back together. Unthinkingly, he reached up and traced a single finger along the length of the scar. The rough callousness of his finger a stark contrast to the soft and smooth new skin that had grown into place. She flinched, a quiet gasp escaping her lips. He promptly retrieved his hand.

"I'm sorry. Did that hurt?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No...I...no..." she trailed off. She was blushing. He could see it even in the dim glow of the fire light. By the Light, she was beautiful when she blushed. Almost as if he wasn't in control of his own body, he lifted his hand to her neck and brushed a thumb over the crimson that splashed across her cheek. The color deepened and spilled down to her collar bone.

"I...uh... Please don't do that," she stammered, barely above a whisper. He hesitated a moment before withdrawing his hand. The man rose to his feet, striding over to the fire and turning their meal to cook it evenly. Jinny visibly relaxed, the tension easing from her shoulders. She took a deep breath and cleared the fog he'd caused in her head, only then realizing that she'd been holding her breath.

Silly girl, she thought. Control yourself. You ought to be able to manage yourself around him. He isn't that handsome, is he? The mage asked herself as she chanced a fleeting look in his direction. He was merely sitting there, one leg bent and resting on the ground, the other bent also, but it was his foot on the ground crossing over the opposite leg, making the perfect arm rest. When he looked down, as he was doing now, his red hair fell like a fiery halo around his eyes. He prodded the fire with a stick, the muscles of his jaw clenching and relaxing over and over. The scar that cut down his face seemed more pronounced in the deep shadows the firelight created, but it seemed to add to his captivating features. Then, of course, there were those lips. Lips she'd only had a taste of, but had left her secretly wanting more. Lips that were curling into a sly smirk.

"You're staring, Mage."

Eyes darting away, she blushed deeply, fire spreading across her nose and cheeks. How did he even know? He wasn't even looking at her. She turned her attention to her shoulder, trying to put him out of her mind. Tenderly, she reached out her own finger to trace the ragged edges of the scar. It was still a deep scarlet color with raised, lumpy edges. It was hard to wrap her head around how dreadful the gash was. It must have been a terrible injury. She was sure the Crusade would have had at least one healer in the camp. That was probably why Jinny was healed so well in such a short amount of time. Well, the healer and that potion she drank. At least, she thought it was a potion. It sure tasted like one.

The sound of bags rustling barely registered through her musings. She blinked, coming back to reality, only to find the warrior kneeling in front of her once again. She raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was doing. He smiled, raising his hand to produce a small metal tin. She still didn't understand what he'd intended to do, but she sat there, patiently watching his movements. In addition to the small tin, he held a clean white piece of cloth. He opened the tin and dipped the cloth into the salve. A grimace distorting her features and wrinkling her nose as he daubed it gingerly onto her shoulder.

"That smells horrible."

He nodded. "It does."

"What is that?" the mage asked, her eyes beginning to tear up from the fumes. In a small way, she was thankful for not being restricted in a small space like a tent. If this...whatever it was smelled this awful outside, where the wind could siphon it away, she couldn't even think of the overwhelming stench it would cause in a confined space.

"It's a healing salve. It softens the skin, and reduces scarring." He stayed his hand, hovering just above her shoulder. "That is, unless you'd like to keep the scar and make up some wonderfully adventurous story about how you single-handedly took on a pack of wild and rabid felhounds." He shrugged at her. "It's up to you." She laughed behind the delicate fingers she'd pulled up to protect her nose from the stench.

"No," she said, punctuating the statement with a quick shake of her head. "No visually aided war stories for me."

"Ahh," he nodded, but paused. He looked at her, a lop-sided grin teasing the corners of his mouth. He raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

She laughed again, theatrically rolling her eyes. "Well..." she said, pretending to think it over. "Yeah...no," she shook her head again. "No, I don't want it. But, thanks anyway." He nodded, resuming his daubing. "When did you get that?" she asked, referring to the salve.

He shrugged. "It's a good thing to have in my line of work. Of course, I didn't always have it."

The mage regarded his face. The jagged line of his own scar winding its way down the right side. Though the old wound did nothing to retract from the attractiveness of his boyish features. And he really was very attractive, if not slightly intimidating. She'd certainly never met another male as alluring as he was. But, it wasn't just his good looks that made him incredibly appealing, there was something deep in his personality that was amazingly comforting. Almost the same feeling of security a youngling would gain by hugging a favorite blanket, or a treasured stuffed animal.

"You're staring, Mage," he smirked. "Again."

She flushed a deep red and suddenly found the skirt of her robe very interesting, plucking off minute pieces of dirt and fuzz. "I...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I was just wondering how you acquired that scar."

He smiled, warmth lighting his eyes as he dropped his hands and closed the tin. "That..." he rand a finger over the line of uneven skin. "Is a little souvenir from my first battle with the Alliance. A rather large Draenei caught a very young me and decided that instead of killing me, he'd much rather leave me with a permanent keepsake." A devilish smirk crept across his face, his eyes suddenly turning cold and emotionless. "I followed him to their camp. That night, I found his tent and I crept in, unnoticed." He was far away now, thought he was sitting right next to her. "I found the dagger he'd graced me with and returned the favor."

The girl's face wore her uneasiness. Her quiet gasp at the climax of his recollection caused him to blink out of the silence he'd fallen into. He noticed apprehensive expression and unconsciously extended a comforting hand to cup her cheek. His face contorting with worry. "I'm sorry, little Mage." His thumb skimmed the apple of her cheek. "I didn't mean to...wander off there." He offered her a half hearted lopsided grin, slightly embarrassed that he'd left his mind wander like that.

Jinny felt her face growing hot as he kept stroking her cheek. He was still looking at her. He gently cleared her throat. "Now you're staring, Warrior." He froze, his thumb only halfway across its path. Quickly, he released her and stood, striding over to the fire where their meal was almost burning.

"I think these are ready," he mumbled, grabbing the skewers the little critters were roasting on. He handed one to Jinny, who murmured quiet thanks as he turned and stalked to the other side of the crumbling house. She gave him a curious stare as she bit into her meal.

Immediately, her tongue was assaulted with the sweet gamey flavor of the meat. She chewed slowly, reflecting on the past four days. Had it really only been four? She supposed it had, though it seemed much longer than that. She'd seen so many sides of his personality in just a short amount of time. My! He was a complicated person. She was having a hard time figuring him out. Here was this seemingly young elf who was apparently old enough to have been in many battles with the scars to prove it. A seasoned and skilled veteran, and yet, decidedly juvenile when it came to women, it seemed. But... His actions the night before they'd left the Ghostlands belied his juvenile rutting when they'd first met at the fountain. She flushed slightly as she remembered the weight of his body against hers. The feel of his breath against her ear.

"Thinking of something nice?" His silky smooth voice startled her from her thoughts and poured over her, pooling low in her belly. She hadn't even realized she'd started smiling. She looked away, avoiding eye contact, not willing to look into the prying fel of his eyes for fear of him discovering what she'd really been thinking about.

He nodded, smirking knowingly at her awkward silence. How did he always seem to know what she was thinking?

"Apparently so..." he grinned wolfishly, throwing his makeshift skewer into the fire. "Get some sleep, little Mage. We've a long trek ahead of us tomorrow." He lay down, turning away from her and leaving her to her thoughts.

Somewhere, deep in her musings, she thought she could hear a very distant, almost unintelligible deep voice. It was laughing. A low, malicious laugh that chilled her to the bone and curdled her blood. Nervously, she looked around, searching for the source as she caught her lower lip between her teeth. Strangely, the laugh dissipated just as quickly as it had risen. She peered at the other elf. He didn't seem to hear anything. She shook her head to clear it. She must have been hearing things.