Disclaimer: I own absolutely and completely nothing. Bioware has that particular pleasure.

Summary: A City-Elf/Bann Teagan collection of drabbles and one-shots based on a prompt table from an LJ-community. These will be more or less in chronological order with the faintest traces of added plot here and there. Will vary from drabble length to one-shot.

Author's note: I wrote huh, three one-shots/drabbles yesterday and finished the Landsmeet. I was either in withdrawal or playing around when I should be working. Ah well. This one had to be done, sorry to say :) Yay for 20th chapter. A cookie for the one who gets who is who.

In this chapter: Royalty should be punished. Just like everyone else.

020.

"It bit me."

So? No one cares. Assan fixes a large brown eye on her, careless and unforgiving. Ah. Why should he care about her complaints?

Dimwitted does. It listens, head bowed. Idiot.

"You don't understand." Yes, he does. Everyone does. Even Assan does. They just don't care. He knows they don't. Everyone has been glaring at the woman non stop so of course they don't. "Teagan." Dimwitted. "This filthy mongrel bit me."

Not filthy mongrel. Proud pure bred Mabari. Sweet valiant warrior. Guardian. Protector. He protects her. Not Mongrel. Never Mongrel. Perhaps he shouldn't have bit this thing, she is this stupid and reckless. Were she blood, he'd help her against the world.

She's not. He doesn't like her. In fact, the other hand looks apetizing from where he sits. The blood tasted bland but he can ignore that with a little scorn in the mix.

Dimwitted doesn't reply to her comments. Slow, very slow, very very slow human. He didn't change much. Instead of talking, he grabs some fabric and begins tugging it around Stupid's hand. Which is bad. The injury is still red. Red means it should be healed. But the old mother always yells when it's green because green comes after red and when it's green it hurts more. They should wait until it's green and hurts. Stupid deserves it. Deserves even more, her body broken and shattered and dragged through the streets but he's good, he's a good boy. His elf said keep safe so he keeps safe but not uninjured. And he hates this woman, how he hates her.

A growl escapes before Assan can stop it. Stupid shivers. Good. She should. If she knew how much he wants to hurt her, bite and scratch and drag her all over, she'd be doing more than shivering. Something like running. Useless. He's a great warrior and always always catches the prey.

Dimwitted looks at him. Smells like sweat and blood, bland and bitter. He understands.

"He's the Warden's Mabari. You cannot expect anything else."

Understands but doesn't. He's not the elf's, the elf is his. His and solely his. His since she came from wherever, all scrawny bones and taunt skin beneath leather, smelling like something sugary and salty with flowers on her hands. Stupid – dark-blooded, black-hearted – harmed his elf so he harmed her in return. Blood in his teeth is bland and almost sweet while the elf's is bitter and dark like poison. She's bleeding, he knows. She's bleeding because of this woman. So he makes her bleed, eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. How he hates her.

Assan doesn't pay attention to their words. Where he is concerned, they're both stupid and idiotic and she's more than a little betrayer – a huge disgusting betrayer, the snake on the grass, the wolf in their mist and Mabari kill both snakes and wolves. He keeps both eyes on her, large and unblinking and smells her blood. Satisfied, just a little.

"Assan."

Dimwitted.

The man is leaving and right by his side when a hand creeps out. Creeps and creeps and oh scratch. Scratch is good. Scratch there is better. He likes that. ..wait. Is this bribery? Bribery for what? And if it is, where's the bone and what does he want? No more biting? Scratch, scratch, ears, ears are nice. Huh. The human can continue, he'll allow it.

"Good boy."

I know. Keep scratching.