Surprise Hello (John/Delgar/Mouse)

John was on guard duty when the mercenary arrived. Middle-height for a nord, her armor was well used. He couldn't tell while the twin swords at her hips were sheathed, but he guessed they were equally so. Her brown eyes were shrewd and her manner efficient as she brought in a dusty, mousy little urchin of a girl to S'ren-ja. Leaving the girl in the guard house, she demanded payment for delivery of the child.

John questioned the sellsword, and after staring at the girl for a moment...he paid the courier.

"What is her name?"

The Nord's accent was thick. "No one told me," she drawled. "I called her Mouse. She's quiet." Her job done, the mercenary rode out of S'ren-ja the way she came, not looking back.

The little girl looked up at him, looked at her former caretaker leaving, and he could watch her contemplating her new position in life. "Are you daddy?" she asked him. She couldn't have been more than four or five years old. She was cute, and looked so hopeful.

"No." John answered, staring at her. He took off his sword and leaned it against a wall. Crouching, "I'm John."

Her tiny bit of self control began to wear away. The tears were coming. "You are not daddy? Where is daddy?"

John looked around. "I don't know. I'm your big brother. Do you want a brother?"

She looked at him like he'd grown a second head. He'd stalled the waterworks for a little while. She nodded.

Just outside of Sren'ja's meek little township, Delgar had built a tiny semi-permanent home.

On one side there was a cliff-face chosen to protect against the desert winds and storms. The base was well angled to allow for run off during those torrential storms without taking his camp with them. From there he had built walls made of woven branches just a little taller than a man's head. Lashed together, the interior became shaped like a thick 'L' with plenty of living space for himself, his husband, and if she should decide to visit, Lily.

The outside was covered in local weeds, some still growing, and dusted with the local reddish soil to blend into the cliff face. Inside, only one side of the 'L' had a measure of a roof, flat, to provide some protection from storms. He had lined it with oil treated hide, and he had a rather quick tight stitch to hold it all together with gut string.

It was quick, inexpensive, and for him it was also comfortable.

The giant condor which was often seen about Sren'ja seemed quite at home upon the nearby rocks and twisted trees, and occasionally one saw a mangy looking fox darting about the sharp grasses. Delgar's paint gelding wandered those same grasses, loosely hobbled to keep it from roaming too far from the small creek bed nearby.

With the little girl in tow, John clocked out early and removed his uniform. Taking his mare, Tank, out of S'ren-ja, he rode with the child behind him. She seemed used to the arrangement, for she clung to his armor with a surprisingly strong grip and rode quite well for a child. She didn't say much, except to ask after the mare's name, and watched everything as they left the city.

Approaching Delgar's camp, he slowed Tank to a halt and climbed down, pulling her out of the saddle. "Delgar, you here?" he called.

Condar the condor made a small fit from the moment he saw John from the rock cliff, either taking seriously the job of sentry, or just quite happy to announce the bloody bit of rabbit he had to an old friend.

Regardless, Delgar knew someone was approaching long enough to leave behind his curing work and clean up from the scraping he had been doing with an old rag as he surfaced from the mouth of his camp.

He had his wavy brown hair pulled back into a half braid as it had gotten quite out of hand, and wore an old unbleached linen shirt over khaki breeches and boots. No doubt he had been at work since before dawn, but he still had an easy smile to see John, and a moment's hesitance to see he was not alone. "Hey, yeah I'm here."

The little dirty-blonde urchin stood next to John, watching the bird up on the cliff with wary green eyes. She didn't have much for clothes; mostly cast-offs several sizes too large and in the nordic style.

"Look what the Nord dragged in," John said, gesturing at the child. He swallowed. "A mercenary dropped her in my lap. My...Rose is gone. She's. I mean, Mouse. Is my sister."

"Surprise?"

Delgar cast the cloth over his shoulder, threading his hair behind his neck as he approached. He looked from John toward the child with curiosity as his lover explained, then his expression slowly fell. "John, I'm sorry," he said over the news of Rose's death. Even Delgar felt that, a little deeply even.

Attention quickly diverted to the child though, and a few paces away he sank to sit upon his heels. "Hello Mouse," and gave her a gentle smile.

John was doing a good job of not breaking down completely over the news, but Delgar would be able to see how hard the information had hit him.

Mouse was true to her name, and half-hid behind John's thigh. Staring at Delgar with rich green eyes through her hair. She was pale under the dirt. Of Imperial stock and something else. Possibly Breton. She didn't say anything, just stared.

John reached around his leg and put a broad hand between her shoulders, nudging her away from his leg. She refused, gripping tighter to the buckles of his leg-guards with an insistent "Uh-nuuu!"

Delgar did not call John out on his struggle, but he knew. Instead, he focused upon the little girl, giving John some time. In doing so, he caught the girl's eyes, and something about them froze him in place for several moments. His breath caught.

He tore his gaze away to look up at John, some shock in his expression as if he had answers for him. "J-John?" He went right back to staring at the girl, this time with far more detail.

Focused on Mouse and a little frustrated at her stubbornly childish shyness, he was about to forcibly pry her off his leg when Delgar said his name. Thinking it was a chiding, he looked up at his husband. "Sorry," he said. "Don't know why she's doing this."

"No John," he said with quiet emphasis. "Look at her. D-don't scare her," he said suddenly feeling bad about how shy she was and they likely were frightening her.

At Delgar's insistence, John readjusted the sword on his back and sat down in the dirt. Mouse rethought her hiding strategy, and also crouched, her tiny hands on John's arm and face buried against his arm-guards.

"You want to sit in my lap, Mouse?" he offered. "It's okay."

She nodded, and let herself be man-handled into John's lap. He wrapped his arms around her, and she peered at Delgar. "What about her?" John asked. "She could use a bath." He sniffed at her comically, and she cracked a smile and wriggled.

The ranger also sat, a tad closer, folding his legs under him and resting his hands on his thighs. A moment later he took the rag from his shoulder and worried its ends with his fingers with the excuse that his nails had filth under them. "You said she's Rose's? H-how old would you ..." he had to pause before he could form words again. "How old do you think she is. Mouse?" he asked quietly. "Do you know how old you are? How old are you?"

"The merc said she'd been looking for the girl's father for a little over a year. Never found him, but she heard of me. She didn't know how old she was. I don't know. No more than six?

Looking at Delgar, Mouse held up four tiny fingers. They splayed wide, her thumb pressed flat against the side of her index.

"Well, there you go. Four."

"Four," Delgar said with a smile to reward the girl's answer. But something ticked behind his eyes in the way he looked at John. "Four years, John," as if that proved something. He rubbed softly at his features. "Her eyes, the shape of her face. She's Innacan," enough so he could not deny it despite all of the odd feelings it called up.

John raised an eyebrow. "There's not many of those running around on the mainland. If any." He looked down at Mouse, who was watching them both but mostly Delgar.

"No, I'm a giiirrrrl," she said emphatically when Delgar called her Innacan, finally speaking up. John chuckled.

Slowly the ranger's lips turned toward an awkward smile at the girl's insistence. "Yes. Yes you are." Then his mossy-green eyes found John's. "Only one I know of." His tone was a little nervous.

John met Delgar's eyes, and held them while he got the girl's attention. "Hey Mouse," he said, breaking that stare to look down at her. "Can you stand up, please? Big brother's leg is falling asleep. There you go." He helped her up.

"Do you know who this is?" John nodded at Delgar.

Mouse shook her head, her chin lowered. John held her hand. "This is your daddy."

For a four-year-old, she had a withering 'I don't believe you' look.

"Look. He has green eyes, and you have green eyes. Want to see?" He stretched, reaching into a pouch at his belt for his shaving-mirror. He held it for her to look at, which she did.

"It's me!" she said in wonder. "Can you see you?" Such a short attention span, she held the mirror out to John's eye. He smirked. "What color are your eyes, Mouse?" he asked.

"Green."

"And your daddy's?"

She hesitated. "Green?"

John nodded, pointing at Delgar. "What color are his eyes?"

She got shy again, hiding her mouth behind the mirror. "Gnnnn..."

"Great, now she's going to think every man with green eyes is her daddy..." he chuckled softly, caught between any number of endless worries and nervous laughter.

John smirked. "No, Dad. Just you." To Mouse, who was being adorable, "Do you want to say hi? Maybe a hug?"

The little girl, still holding the mirror to her mouth, nodded.

Delgar semi-winced one eye at John calling him 'dad' like he knew that was just the beginning of a thing. But he was quickly drawn in by the little girl. "I could really use a hug," especially after this. He stayed put, about an arm's length away, but he also laid aside the dirty rag to open his arm in gentle invitation.

John stayed put, watching Delgar and Mouse. She kept the mirror, taking a few steps forward to lean against Delgar with her arms folded up in front of her and her body turned sideways. It was sort of a hug.

Delgar did not force any more of a hug than the one was offered, and he made sure to smile after. It was not hard. "So why do they call you Mouse, Mouse?" he asked with a little glance toward John. Knowing John was there was highly instrumental to his own ability to handle this solidly.

John opened his mouth to say, when the girl piped up. "Jala gived it to me. I'm a mouse!" She put her fingers to her face like whiskers, making John smile. The hug seemed to be okay for her, for she stayed inside Delgar's personal space.

"The mercenary said that no one told her the girl's name. She called her Mouse, because she was quiet."

"You are a great mouse!" he decided, thinking. "Are you a hungry mouse? I am not sure what mice eat, but we mind find something around here."

He glanced toward the distant city, then toward John. "Not exactly set up out here for little girls. I may need to make a trip for trade."

John rolled to his feet and Mouse nodded. "I'm huuungry," she said, looking to Delgar for food.

Brushing off his armor, John laughed under his breath. "Little girls and boys are just about identical. Want me to go with you?"

Delgar did keep some food on him, good not just for a quick snack, but also for feeding the occasional tod or condor. He shifted a little to dig through a small pocket pouch before unwrapping a bit of smoked fish to hold it open for her. He was rather good at seasoning when doing his curing, but there was the nervousness that she would be picky about it.
"Sure," he said. "You've probably had more experience with this kind of thing than me. Not... the dad thing, I mean, the kid thing, having one around. A sister I mean... my brain is gone, sorry."

John smiled. "I know."

Mouse looked at the fish, took it and bit into it. She made a face, thought about it, and took another. And another, until the entire piece was in her mouth and she could barely chew.

Delgar gave John another little smile for that, the same face which he used when he playfully called John an ass.

Then he realized the fish was quickly disappearing, and he smiled a true smile to realize it was a hit. Perhaps this parenting thing wasn't so hard. Then, "Oh, slow down there mouse. Its not going anywhere," and he withheld more fish until she chewed what she had in her mouth.

Mouse chewed, sometimes using her hands to keep it all in. Swallowing was a chore, but she ate it and reached for the bag with grasping, hungry fingers. "More?"

John smirked. "Not much for manners, is she? Guess that is what happens when you put a merc in charge of the formative years."

Waited a moment, withholding the fishes before he offered her his small canteen of water without fear for child-germs. "Here, wash it down first."

Then, quietly to John, "Perhaps easier to teach manners when she's not half starved. Who knows how she's been treated, really. Perhaps when we go into town we can find the Priestess and have her look the girl over. I know I would feel better."

John nodded, watching his little sister-child grab at Delgar's snacks and canteen. "That's actually a really good idea. I didn't think of it. She just started up a clinic in town, too."

Delgar paused long enough to aid the little girl with a drink, however long she wanted it. Then again to offer her smaller bits of fish this time. Then he nods, remembering what he was saying. "You know where it is?"

"Yeah. It's the old Friend House. I guess there weren't too many people using it, so Arisel let her convert the place into a clinic."

"Smart. At least they seem to know what they have in her." Delgar looked at the little girl, making sure she still had enough to eat. "Would you like to meet a good friend of ours? She is very nice, and you can still stay with us after. This is your home now, you have a home."

Mouse looked past Delgar at the little camp. "Yes," she said, though the drop in her tone sounded more like an affirmative statement about the status of her home than whether or not she wanted to go see the good doctor at the infirmary.

To John, a yes was a yes. As she held to Delgar's canteen, he walked off to retrieve his horse. The ride back into town wasn't a long one. They could make it there and back by sunset, if they set out soon.

"You want to help me get Horse all ready to go?" Delgar invited as he slowly rose, leaving the girl with what was left of the fish while he encouraged her along to go get his own gelding ready. A small horse, and a sweethart, perhaps he wouldn't give the girl cause for fear. She seemed well enough adjusted around John's horse earlier.

He wanted to set out soon also.

The little urchin nodded, and followed Delgar like a pup. Holding the canteen, she offered it up to Delgar's horse without fear. "Drink!" she commanded, putting the container under it's nose.

John snorted. Tank was ready to ride and he was already pulling himself onto her back. "She's good in the saddle. Strong grip."

The gelding tried, lipping at the container. "Like this." Delgar moved to put his hand underneath and gently moved the container in her hands to pour some out into his hand. The gelding was all too happy to drink then, regardless whether the girl learned from it or not.

"You said they had been looking for me for years?"