DISCLAIMER: All elements and characters of The Patriot belong to their rightful owners. I own nothing except my original character Jevornnen.

Grin 2

Jevornnen had to hide a lot more often these days. It wasn't safe for her to be seen around Colonel William Tavington by any of his fellow humans. Drawn to America by the amplified scent of spilled blood, she traveled here from the mountains in the uncharted east where the rest of her dragon kin dwelled. Only a war could carry that much blood to a dragon's nose half the world away. Dragons have always been in the world, driven into hiding to protect their ancient magic and tradition. According to Jev's kind, humans were in no instance supposed to know of their very existence.

Jev has spent quite some time in the humans' country, and in time, began to acquire the ability to take on their appearance. When she is seen by the people, she appears as a young woman of approximately nineteen or twenty, with shoulder blade length wavy auburn hair and slightly tan skin. Her eyes are what make her more distinct, for one is blue, the other yellow like lightning. She's had the ability to alternate forms at will with some practice. As for the American Revolution she has been witnessing, she doesn't have a preference as to who wins, so long as she gets to drag away the dead for her consumption.

Colonel Tavington was particularly dangerous for a human, something she found she could relate with. Jevornnen sensed this from the very day they met. Thus, she followed him to see how long he would survive.

SOME UNDETERMINED NUMBER OF MONTHS PRIOR

After getting shot in the side by a rebel, Jev sensed the colonel's distress from a far distance in the woods. She assumed, at the time, that he was on the verge of death, but wasn't entirely sure of that. She sprinted toward the smell of fresh blood mingled with a slight burning smell from the impact of the mini ball round. When she arrived on the scene, she hid in the tree tops, watching as his fellows carried him to one of their four legged animals. These mounts rode away, one carrying the injured Tavington, who shouted and swore at each lope of the horse's stride, which was certainly causing him more pain.

She followed them out of sight, to their encampment about a mile from her starting point. Tavington was carried into a tent, with even more moans of protest to follow. Jev shifted her position in the trees, where she could see through a small opening in the tent the events that transpired. Her perspicacity allowed her to hear and see with incredible ease.

Another human tended the colonel as the other Dragoons were commanded to leave the tent, with slight reluctance. The last one to leave bowed his head at the colonel in respect, obviously not expecting him to survive the wound. Tavington's sudden howls caught Jev off guard and she almost slipped from her place on a thick branch. Some nearby birds scattered in fear also. The other man worked to remove the round, which was broken into a few pieces. They were not difficult to remove, but one piece was rather deeply lodged, and its removal caused Tavington to lift his upper body in sharp pain, shouting and letting loose a vile string of curses that impressed Jev, and also drew the attention of passersby outside. A few other men struggled to hold him down as the last piece was finally removed. The surgeon's face was not relieved, despite successfully removing the projectile. "In addition to the round being broken, the rib it struck is also fractured. You will need time to recover. I suggest you appoint another soldier to assume command of your special forces during that time. A few months perhaps, you should be fine if you don't catch fever. Who knows? War might even be over by then, God bless the King!" he said. At this, a murderous glint came into Tavington's eyes. "What?! I am not under your command! The only way I'll give up this chance is if death becomes me. Stand aside." he said. Tavington attempted to stand, but fell back as pain overwhelmed him. His movements were too hasty. The surgeon didn't yet dress the wound. Tears of rage threatened to leak from his eyes, but he closed them, allowed the medics to their work, and thought of London.

Of course he tried again to leave once the surgeon was finished for the moment, to which Jev shook her head in light humor. The surgeon and his two assistants restrained Tavington while he was forced to down an herbal tea that put him out within minutes. Relieved, the staff left him to rest. Jev took this opportunity to jump down and approach closer. She overheard the surgeon talking about difficult patients and the risk they pose to his job. "It doesn't matter if they resist," he said. "If I don't get the job done, I'll be answering to the higher command and then MY job is done." She entered the tent and slowly approached the colonel. Jev had to restrain herself from making his wound deeper, his blood was that tantalizing to her. Instead, she focused on his outer coat that was splayed across the end of the cot, his belts and swords neatly stowed underneath. She allowed her eyes to travel up his body, starting with his feet, which were covered in wool socks, then his legs, finely toned underneath the tight fabric of his britches, to that bulge that made her look away quickly, up his slightly bare chest, which rose and fell gently with his breathing. The bandage around his side was growing red. The ends of his black hair caressed his pale skin, which appeared to be very soft. Jev didn't risk the chance to tell. His face had little stubble and his expression was sound and quiet. It was a shock to see him so calm, knowing his manner while awake. She took a moment to look at his hands. The one closest to her was faced palm up, just over the edge, as if it beckoned to her. The other rested gently at his other side.

Jev fled when the others returned in intervals to check on the colonel and redress his wound, and she returned when they left. When she entered this time, she was surprised to find Tavington awake. Jev's face was partially masked with a hood. "Who are you?" he drawled, clumsily holding out a dagger. So the colonel wasn't completely back to himself yet. Seeing his face this close was interesting to her. She stared a moment before answering. "I feel that you will come to know me soon enough. I heard what the surgeon said about giving up your job. I'm glad you aren't going to if you can help it. I hope you live. You were really good out there." she said, giving him a mysterious smile. He stared at her in disbelief.

"Woman, you are stupid. There's no chance I'll heal in time to prove my worth as commander of the Green Dragoons and enhance my position. Not to say I won't try, of course. I'll die before I resolve to lie here forever waiting for nature to take its course." he said. Jev was slightly insulted that the colonel called her a woman, but so she had to appear for her safety and his. She decided to let it go. "Now that's just stupid, man. Running out into battle embracing death is no way to secure a future back at your homeland." she said. "Homeland? There's nothing back for me in England. My father, curse him, is the reason I've nothing to go back to. I will to stay here once our victory is secured and use my pay in the war to purchase land, a few slaves, and place myself in the aristocracy before someone else beats me to it. That damn O'Hara, or whoever else." There was a brief silence. Tavington clenched his jaw, and Jev observed him calmly. "Really now. What is it you want? You are a woman, you shouldn't be in a place like this. If I didn't know, I'd think you were a colonist. Sent to conspire against me, or the crown!" With this, Tavington lifted the dagger and attempted to strike Jev. She easily knocked the weapon aside. "I'm not from around here. I'm not a spy either." she said, no hint of emotion in her voice. "Prove it." he hissed. Jev inhaled. "Let me see your wound." she said. She did not attempt to reach out to him. "I surely think not! I'll call the troops if you so much as come any closer." he growled, spitting at her feet. It was clear Tavington didn't enjoy relying on others' protection in his current state. Jevornnen smiled. "Fine. I won't." she said. She continued to smile at him, which only made Tavington angrier. "Get out!" he shouted. In response, Jev ran with incredible speed and Tavington watched as she scaled a tree with ease. Footsteps were heard and the surgeon returned with a soldier. "What's happened?" he asked. "There's a woman out there, in the trees." It hurt Tavington to draw in air to speak. He was a little unsettled by what he witnessed. "I think she's a spy for the militia." "Hm." The men walked in the direction the colonel pointed, looking far and wide. "There's nobody out there, sir. Are you sure you're feeling alright? Maybe the tea hasn't completely worn off its effects. Settle yourself. Rest." with that, the men left. Tavington was speechless and angry. He let out a huge scream that echoed across the camp. It was enough to turn heads, but the soldiers knew him well enough by now and resumed their duties instantly.

Unable to move, Tavington sulked and eventually fell asleep. He awoke in the middle of the night, aware of the sentries on post outside his tent. A figure in the shadows caught his attention but before he could call in the guards, he was silenced with a rough kiss. His mouth already open, Jev took hold of the back of his neck. Her inhuman strength forced him to accept it, and he did. She only released him when he stopped trying to scream into her mouth. She was glad of it, for it was dreadfully annoying. "Sssh…" she said. "Do you want to get back out there and command your troops again?" she asked before Tavington could summon the guards. He allowed himself a moment to consider her question. He hated this tent, and would sleep outside if it meant he could fight again. "What did you have in mind?" he asked. "Let me see your wound." she said again. "No." "Please? I'll give you a cookie." she said. "Show me you aren't a traitor. Show me now. Or you'll not touch me." Jev sighed. "So difficult. Hehehe." She reached into her pockets and pulled out a few objects. A few of them glinted in the moonlight. "These here are medals I stole off a dead one in blue. These here are his teeth." She took a moment to count them. "Not many. Hmm. Well they will be good souvenirs." Tavington reached out to touch them. "No. Nobody steals my treasure." she said, drawing back. "You said before you weren't from around here. Where are you from then? And why can't I see your face?" he asked. "I'm from the far East. You can't see my face because I'm not of your kind. You would be frightened. I'm not human." she explained. Tavington laughed, his broken rib making him flinch in pain. Jev reached out a hand to steady him, and drew back immediately. "No." Tavington said. "I'm not afraid of you." he said, incriminating. His expression softened slightly, and he held out his hand, willingly this time. Jev took it, uncertain. He drew it to his wound. "Do what you must to improve my condition. I don't care." With that, Tavington rested back and stared at the top of the tent. Jev untied the bandage and placed her bare hand on the wounded flesh. Tavington hissed, wondering if this was a good idea after all. The painful sensation began to fade and was replaced by tingling that soon covered the entire area. When Jev removed her hand, Tavington saw a scar where the wound once was. He sat up without pain.

After fully examining the site where the wound had been, Tavington looked at the brim of Jev's hood, and he was afraid.

She told him her name was Jevornnen. He wondered at the strangeness of it. When the colonel was ready in broad daylight (away from his fellows of course), Jevornnen unmasked herself.

Tavington's attention was held by her eyes. They held an uncommon trait, two different colors. One blue, the other a strange yellow. When she smiled at his wonder, her bottom set of teeth revealed sharp points, getting more jagged towards the back.

Tavington took many opportunities to pause at his military duties in order to observe Jevornnen. She was always aware of his presence, for he couldn't watch her from a distance at which Jev was not aware. His human senses required him to be closer. He watched her climb, run, and kill, wondering about the world he once thought he lived in. When she sneezed, fire would come out her nose, and he would laugh.

What they had couldn't certainly be a friendship, but a close partnership at the time. Tiring of being admired by the colonel, Jev insisted he return to his tasks, else he risk arousing suspicion from his fellows and superiors. "It is not pleasant, working with them. My being in charge of a unit brings me closer to the command, true. But they are my rivals, and they pose a threat to my overall success. I know they don't like me. I can see that. They despise my brutality and sure it isn't a valued trait amongst a British combatant. Don't you see? If I do not use force, I will be crushed under their machinations. They would find some way to be rid of me. My performance thus far has prevented that. Getting rid of me now would only hinder our victory, and they know that. Sometimes, though, I want to forget I'm trying to work for them, and enjoy some of my own time. Make my own choices, as it were." Tavington explained. Jev ran alongside his horse as he prepared to assemble his ranks and ride to a plantation to collect a war convict. She really liked seeing Tavington back in action. "We all want that, don't we? But you and I know there is a promise we must keep, loyalties we have to serve." Jev said. She smiled at Tavington's surprised reaction. "Ah, you didn't assume? I too have loyalties to a cause."

Jevornnen ran ahead to stay hidden from Tavington's fellows as he approached them. "TO HORSE!" he shouted, and immediately the other dragoons mounted up and formed ranks. Jev waited in a tree on the plantation, smiling as the handsome Tavington loped into the yard. The workers shied away in surprise. Injured soldiers on both sides lay on the porch of the home, receiving meager medical treatment. Tavington spoke with the male in charge of the family, and his dragoons took the oldest son into custody. The scent of so much spilled blood made Jev sigh in delight. As the dragoons prepared to ride away with their quarry, another of the sons ran and struck a dragoon, causing him to lose his grip on the prisoner. He shouted for his older brother to run. Tavington immediately turned his horse and aimed his pistol. He shot the boy square in the chest. "Stupid boy." he muttered. The distraught father, already upset from losing one son, was reduced to shatters upon losing another.

In a short time the colonel began to hear speak of an enemy described as a ghost. The rumors were a cloud in the camp. One night, in good humor, he and Jevornnen spoke of it. "I brought something for you." As Tavington approached, Jev's pupils widened at the scent of blood. Rather hesitantly, Tavington pulled a still-clothed severed human forearm from his saddle bag. Recovering and storing the arm for this moment was a strange action, even for the sadistic colonel. He never expected to keep a severed body part to feed a beautiful monster. Before he could react, Jev grabbed the dead limb and began to hastily devour it. "Wouldn't you like to taste it before it's gone?" Tavington asked. Jev paused and looked up at him with a bloody look of confusion. "Oh, uhm….yes." She nibbled slower. "Thank you fierce two-legger. I'm glad I let you live." Jev smiled and the colonel chuckled nervously, but quickly regained his composure. "The men speak of a ghost 'haunting' the forest, killing our troops." he said. "Oh? I don't know how I missed the scent of bloodshed." Jev said, thinking. "You have been following me for the past three weeks." Tavington said. He smirked. "That I have, human." "You can call me by my name, dragoness. I promise not to lash out at your insubordination." he taunted. "Ha! You are a shark in a mouse's body, William." Jev said. When Tavington first told the dragon his full name, Jev had trouble pronouncing the first name. It took a few tries, much to the colonel's annoyance. "Are you sure this ghost isn't another dragon?" Jev asked. "With the war going on, it wouldn't surprise me if I ran into others of my kind here." The statement seemed to visibly disappoint Tavington. "I hope not." he said. "But I'd rather not think on that now. I have a party to attend."

"I can't breathe.." Jev said, as a maid prepared her for the event. Tavington managed to sneak her in, using the excuse she was his beloved. Jev didn't hear this, of course. "Do I have to wear these?" Jev constantly complained throughout the entire process. The shoes especially, did nothing to help her balance. "She's new to the land, a daughter of a foreign noble." Tavington explained upon receiving inquiring looks from the maid. Jev stared at her, and Tavington lightly dragged her away. The corset supported her chest, making the flesh plump towards the neckline. Tavington swallowed upon the sight. "You look beautiful." he said simply, offering her his hand. "I look stupid." Jev said. "How do you people wear these things? I can't walk in this, let alone hunt. And I like breathing." Jev looked confused at Tavington's gentlemanly gesture. "Take my arm, like this." He guided her to his arm, and she noticed his scent was rather overwhelming this particular night. It stirred a feeling within her. Jev thought she smelled funny, because of the perfume the maid sprayed on her during her dressing. It felt embarrassing to smell so strange. But she assumed it wasn't strange for these people. While walking down the hall, the heeled shoes made her unsteady, and she fell against the colonel a few times, much to his pleasure. He let her walk around some inside until she began to adjust to the shoes.

They entered a room where a man was being dressed up for the event. Jev became confused and not knowing any human customs, she silently panicked and looked to Tavington because of course he would know what to do. The general and the dragoness were hastily introduced. Jev blessed the heavens he seemed too preoccupied with his dress to care about who she was. When the ship carrying supplies for the loyalists exploded, Jev was impressed. "Finally. Something interesting." she commented. The colonel was quite tipsy from drink, and he smashed his empty glass before going to find her. He knew she wouldn't be with the crowd. It wasn't like her, and he knew this by now. He did eventually find her in the general's quarters. "You really shouldn't be—" he began. "You really think anyone's coming back in here right now with what just happened? Besides, the view is best from up here on top of the hill." Jev said, and she carelessly reclined into the general's chair. Tavington envied her nerve, but at the same time, couldn't help but admire her. She took control of her territory, even if it wasn't hers. He walked over to her and said, "No. I don't think anyone is coming in here." Jev looked up at him through her auburn waves as he knelt onto the chair. She grabbed him in a rough kiss.

Jev followed Tavington in his other raids of churches, houses, and small towns. When he would return to his tent, he would find her there, and he would smell of smoke. She would often joke that a dragon must have been involved. One particular night Jev noticed the colonel couldn't relax. "Why are you tense?" she asked. "Shut up, woman." She growled long and low at this. It was dangerously loud. "Hush, please." he said quickly. "I am not…tense, but this will be the deciding battle come morning. I have to prove myself to these generals, though I really shouldn't have to. After my agreement with the general, I can never return to my homeland. It's either I claim an estate through victory, or die." He heaved a heavy sigh. Jev thought for a moment. "You know there's no way I can participate in this." she said. Tavington acknowledged it reluctantly. "Were you to fight, you would be immediately found out and killed. Even though you are not a ….woman…you take on that appearance and the men will not react kindly to it. Especially since you would land more kills than all of them combined. Hehe." Jev smiled. "I would. But I wouldn't be killed. I'm a lot stronger in my true form." She walked over to him, helped him dress. They faced each other then, sunlight peering into the tent. "Fight, colonel. I will not be seen. But do not ignore my presence." She placed her hand on his cheek, kissed him. "No. Leave. I can't lose this. I need this land." He angrily pleaded. "You will have a territory to call yours. But I will leave, as you wish." she said. Immediately she fled.

Tavington ordered his dragoons forward, legs kicking into his horse, impatient to get lost in the fray. He could see the general far off, peering at him through a looking glass, obviously dissatisfied the colonel disobeyed orders. He was soon lost in the mayhem, swinging his sword and firing his pistol with deadly accuracy and without regard to any cries of surrender. He loved nothing more than to see his sword painted red, hoping the general saw his performance and wouldn't regret allowing him his brutal methods towards the war effort and securing the rebels' surrender.

While slashing at a soldier running past, a certain figure caught Tavington's eye: the ghost. Ignoring what he was enjoying so much only seconds before, he spurred the chestnut to a new direction, heading directly toward that one man. Nothing else mattered, that man must die.

Martin saw the colonel when he was seconds away from being trampled by the war horse, or slashed or impaled on the colonel's sword, brandished in fury. In a desperate effort, he grabbed the nearest sharp object, the pole of a downed flag. Tavington did not realize the purpose Martin intended with it, until he felt his mount collapse suddenly on his forelegs, sending the colonel flying forward headfirst. He managed to tumble far enough to a safer distance where he had more time to recover and stand. No broken bones, it was a clean fall. The chestnut stallion, however, did not rise. Martin advanced on him now, wielding a nasty-looking hatchet. Tavington grabbed the nearest saber and prepared to attack. They locked arms, their weapons bouncing off each other with resounding clangs that could be heard despite the commotion of the battle surrounding them. Martin already sustained moderate injuries from other soldiers, whilst Tavington suffered only minor scrapes, being on horseback and lucky enough to escape being shot. Thus, Martin was slow as he prepared another swing. Tavington feinted to his left, managing two nasty slashes that cut through Martin's back and sprayed blood. Martin flinched, keeping his grip on the hatchet as he chanced a swing behind him. Tavington's right wrist narrowly missed being cut through entirely, but cut through it did, at least somewhat. It was enough to knock him to his knees as he yelled in pain and rage. A warning growl emanated from somewhere nearby. Either it wasn't heard in the midst, or the men thought it to be artillery fire. Tavington fumbled for a weapon as he staggered to his feet, Martin getting to his feet as well. There was no sword within reach at this point. Running to the nearest one would seal Tavington's fate. Tavington was still on one knee as Martin advanced again. As he brought down the swing that would end the colonel's life, Tavington swung around with the left wrist, stabbing into Martin's arm that held the hatchet. He smiled sinisterly as Martin's arm flew back, the hatchet spinning out of his open hand and landing out of reach. Tavington used this opportunity to sheathe his knife and recover his own lost sword. He cursed as he searched through the ranks for Martin. Losing sight of him made the colonel desperate for control. He pushed allies and enemies aside as he searched for his nemesis.

When he finally found the ghost, Tavington was relieved to see he was still on his knees. Hunched over, the colonel thought, from the pain. Tavington could taste victory. He ran towards the kneeling man, sword ready to strike. With no warning, Martin stood effortlessly and shot the colonel in his left shoulder. Tavington stumbled and clenched his teeth as he felt his left side explode in pain. Still, he stood. But he realised at this point how easily Martin could take his life now. He chanced a slight lift of the sword in his left hand, and discovered he could still use the sword, but not effectively. Martin was weakened by fatigue, and his losses. They both fell to their knees, focusing on nothing but filling their lungs with air, only as much as needed to fight. The air was filled with gunpowder and smoke. Tavington stood first. He screamed as he used both injured sides to lift his sword, and when he brought it down, he stopped. Air. He needed to inhale! He'd been stabbed in the stomach and could not even lift his head. He felt for the hilt of the blade, choking angry defeated sobs. It was no use. Pulling the blade out would require more strength than he had, and would ultimately kill him. The tears flowed as he thought of Jevornnen, dark scruffy Jev, the red dragon with unusual eyes. He wanted to see her face. But his head was pulled up by his dark hair, and he looked into the eyes of the ghost. He saw a bayonet positioned to rip through his throat and avenge his savagery to Martin's family. Martin spoke, but Tavington's focus was too blurred by the pain to understand what he spoke. The next moment knocked Tavington to his back, and the sun was a blinding white that turned to black.

The first thing Tavington noticed when he awoke was the silence. It was everywhere. There were no soldiers walking, no clank of weapons, nothing being sharpened, just the crack of a small fire and the sounds of distant forest life. His pain became real next, and then his short term memory. Jevornnen ran like a bullet between himself and Martin and knocked them both aside. Martin was thrown severely and at quite a larger distance. It was enough to worsen his injuries for sure. His blue coat friends had to carry him away.

"You were very close to death, I smelled it and it was the only thing I really feared yesterday." Jev said. Tavington turned his head toward the voice. She sat by him on a stool, with a cup of herbal tea. He noticed she kept a somber expression. She avoided looking into his eyes. "I know I promised I wouldn't interfere, that you wanted to die with dignity and live in my memory forever. While I would have definitely remembered you forever, what would your death really have achieved?" she said. "Look at me. Please look at me….Jev." A moment passed before she looked into his eyes, still blue. "I regret what I said, and I am…grateful to be alive. But because I am alive, I have nowhere else to go." he said. "Wait. To whom did the victory go?" he asked suddenly. Jev sighed. She gently ran her fingers over his shoulder and kissed his forehead. "The rebels. Ssh.." she said. "The general had to flee with the rest of your side, and upon seeing me, gave me this before he boarded ship and set off." Jev procured a letter sealed in red wax. She opened it for the colonel and held it before him, since he couldn't use his arms.

To Colonel William Tavington, Commander of the Green Dragoons of the Royal Army:

As of the printed date, I hereby bequeath my estate and its remaining properties to you as a reward for your service in the efforts to secure the colonies. Upon our defeat, I regret to inform you that His Majesty, King George, will not be satisfied and having already heard of your brutal combat tactics, is unlikely to grant you favor to return to England in peace. According to the latest order we received prior to the conclusion of this conflict, no soldiers directly under your command are permitted to return with us. I leave you my estate with respect. As for your subordinates, they will have to find their own way in this land. Good luck, and thank you.

General Cornwallis

"You do have a home." Jev said. The colonel smiled as he closed his eyes to sleep.

SIX MONTHS LATER

William Tavington stretched as he brushed aside the lace curtains. Light flooded into the ornate bedroom, which caused Jev to moan in protest and turn under the covers. "It's a beautiful morning. Hard to believe a war was fought recently. It's so…green." Unable to sleep anymore, Jev reluctantly trudged out of bed. Her hair was in all directions as she approached the window in her shift where Tavington stood. "I could light it all on fire, if you'd like." she said. The colonel chuckled. He walked outside with her, smiling down at her as she looked at him in wonder. "Your fire saved my life. That's plenty of fire for now." he said. "But you love pillaging." They looked at each other confused, until Tavington burst with laughter. Jevornnen could see how healthy he'd become since the war ended and his injuries healed with patience these last few months. She smiled at this new side of him. The colonel was genuinely happy. And that was something to smile about.