You will be the father of something terrible

Perhaps he should have been intimidated by the wolf, but Blaine was a son of the city, and the feeling that nondomesticated animals were a myth had been bred into him.

The wolf shook itself, and shifted. Harbard as a man probably should have been just as intimidating as Harbard-the-wolf- he was a hulking, scarred, beast of a man, covered in a thatch of hair nearly as thick as his wolf pelt. But Blaine could no longer be bothered with fearing anything on this plane, or any other, for that matter. There was too much of the serpent left in him for that.

"Huh." Harbard stayed in a low crouch, and scratched behind his ears. "You still smell like a thief."

"Really?" That made Blaine smile, inexplicably. He supposed it was good, that Tyrin wasn't completely dead. "I haven't been one of those in years. Decades, really."

Harbard made a noise halfway between a snort and a growl. "Like a criminal, then. What do you want?" He surged to his feet, and stalked across the room to a cupboard against the far wall. He took out a set of clothes and began dressing. "I was sleeping."

Blaine leaned against the desk, and thought that, as far as these things went, Harbard wasn't bad looking. Older, yes, but not so many years older than Blaine himself, and nowhere near as old as Silverlock. He was, by all reports, a good man. Fair with his men. Loose enough with his morality to, if not condone, perhaps at least to understand what it meant to be an assassin. And he was a Malestri, which meant more than the rest combined in the end.

But Blaine wasn't the one in danger of marrying the man, so he supposed it didn't really matter.

"I want you to stay away from my daughter."

Harbard finished pulling his tunic over his head, and laughed. Clothed, he looked less like some sort of creature born out of snow and jagged rock, but there was still something feral in his laughter, something a little too like the sound of howling on a moonless night.

Blaine crossed his arms, fully well aware of how thin he was now, and how Harbard could, theoretically, snap him in half one-handed. Theoretically. The other man would have to catch him first. "It wasn't my intention to be entertaining."

"I'm sure it wasn't, little man. I'm sure it wasn't." Harbard's eyes in human form were meant to be blue, but right now they were golden, and a little too round. Wolf eyes. "But you're no more her father than I am, and have even less right to be saying such things to me." There was a snarl in his voice.

"What I am to her exactly is of little relevance, I think." Blaine could hear the edges of the serpent curling his tongue. He hadn't intended to get into a pissing contest with a captain of the Watch, but he'd never been overly fond of bullies. "The fact remains that she is my family, and your attentions are unwanted. So: stay away from her."

"Or what, little criminal? I could have you jailed for threatening me. I could have you jailed as an accessory to murder a thousand times over, too." Harbard stepped closer, his height and bulk overshadowing Blaine. The growl in his voice became more pronounced. "Or I could see how you fare against the wolf. She's not your responsibility, human. She's Malestri."

He smirked, and forced the serpent back- he had no need for it here, now. "She's an assassin, Captain Halverness. First, last, and above all else. I'm not threatening you- I'm warning you. After all, if you don't leave her be, there's nothing I can do, save put you back together, perhaps- but she's more than capable of taking care of herself."

Harbard actually looked startled, and seemed to shrink slightly in his surprise. Blaine's smirk deepened. Bullies. He pushed past Harbard, toward the door. "Have a nice day, Captain Halverness."

Outside Harbard's office, the Liutenant managed to look completely casual, as though he hadn't just had his ear pressed to the door, listening. Tim was not quite so suave, and nearly caught the door with his face when it opened.

Blaine rolled his eyes. Kids. "Good evening, Lieutenant, Tim."

"Evening, Your Holiness!" Tim scrambled back to his desk, blushing fiercely.

The Lieutenant nodded, still pretending to be engrossed in paperwork. "Bright welcome to you, Mister Torkehaav." He looked up, and tapped his pen against the desk thoughtfully. "If you see Miss Foxbird-"

"I'll tell her you said hello."

The Lieutenant nodded, and turned back to his work.

Blaine shook his head as he left the Watchquarters; kids, indeed. He was getting old.