Night Watch I: Eliza, Ward of Andrew

*Eliza’s POV*

Blasko came sauntering up and spoke privately with Pete. Amusingly, to whisper in a seated Pete's ear, Blasko didn't really have to bend over. Pete got up, and that was when I registered, for the first time, that Pete was... stripped. He had no wings, no antennae or horns. I blinked, wondering what could have happened. Fae genes are dominant in that respect, so Pete most likely had an accident, or some kind of... incident.

I decided not to think about it too hard. I knew too well what sort of treatment we hybrids tended to receive. I could conceivably pass as a full-blood, especially to an uneducated Fae, but Pete stuck out like a sore thumb. I was left masking my dark thoughts as Pete waved a casual goodbye.

Pete would have an ally in me. So bizarre to have met two hybrids in one day. How many were there here? Were they all Watchmen? Did we somehow gravitate towards guarding the Soul? I'd only met a handful of other hybrids in my entire life...

Blasko sat next to me on the bench. By his expression, he looked like a kid that knew he had to eat vegetables, and was about to do it, but nevertheless, was not pleased about it. He leaned in close to me as he spoke so that only I could hear.

"Alright, Eliza, here's the deal. I've run through all the scenarios. The fact is that I do need to see how you use a sword. Another fact is that there's only one swordsman on the Night Watch that I feel comfortable putting in the circle with you. However, there's only one way to get that shithead in there." I raised an eyebrow.

I figured he must mean Andrew by the way he was behaving. Not ideal, but interesting. If he was a crappy swordsman, I'd best the Second Officer on my first day, which would be pretty emasculating for Andrew. Shit, unless he was a fucking incredible swordsman, I would defeat him eventually. However, we would make a lot of fucking money, which would soften the blow. And, I gather, since I had just overcome Pete, and everyone had thought Pete was unstoppable, it likely wouldn't bother Andrew as much. That would be bad, though, in the sense that, if Andrew was their best swordsman, and he turned out to be shit, the Soul of the Forest was being guarded by a bunch of youngsters that needed help pronto. Help a hybrid murderer wasn't exactly in a great position to provide.

However, if Andrew beat me, my ego would take a blow. I hated that, I had a lot of pride, though I didn't like to admit it. That, and we'd be out some money. That didn't seem to be a problem for Andrew, I guess, being a Second Officer that apparently never does anything for fun. However, he'd look like the biggest badass in the Forest, I gathered. It would be interesting to see him work a blade, even a stupid wooden one. I just wished that, if he really was such an incredible swashbuckler, I weren't so wounded... I didn't want to embarrass myself. I fucking hated getting my ass kicked. Shit. But... My curiosity had already won out. Dammit.

"I need you to cry, Eliza." Blasko didn't look like he was kidding.

"I'm not certain I understand." That was a motherfucking understatement. If I start crying, I'm afraid that will be the last straw, and Andrew will burst free and kill everyone, like I'm some kind of wounded, defenseless infant...

Blasko rolled his eyes, as though I were daft. "Here's the deal, kid. At this point, even if I order him, I doubt Andrew'll listen. He's too worried about you. He's a pig-headed fuckwit sometimes. But he'd listen to you!

"So, earlier, I went around and made a bit of a show of asking other Watchmen to volunteer. I can say truthfully, they all turned me down with fucking gusto. If I order them to test your swordsmanship, it would be pointless, they'd shit their pants! We need a cocky, self-confident, asshole that is unable to give up like most reasonable beings do. Andrew fits the bill perfectly." Were we talking about the same guy? Shy, weird, Andrew? Overprotective because he takes his job so seriously? Freaks out over his dead lover, like, every few hours? Super-hot when clothed, naked, and/or masturbating? I supposed the last part wasn't exactly relevant at the moment, but it was oh so very, very true.

"Andrew, as in, your Second Officer?" Blasko snorted.

"Yes! Look, I know he mopes around at home doing fuck-all knows what. And by the way: let me know if he proves to be too weird for you. He's a good kid, he's just been in self-imposed social isolation for, eh, some time. But I digress.

"He's a crackerjack swordsman, and fast as a viper. He's also apparently, all too defensive of you. So I'm going to start patting you on that back in a minute, and I want you to start crying, like the news that no one is willing to scrap with you is the worst news you've ever heard, ok? Then, YOU ask Andrew if he'll go up against you. And that, my dear, is an order." Ah fuck. An order? Cry on cue? I wasn't some kind of pansy bitch, dammit!

Notes