Sounds from the hallway. Janus was like a hare. Instantly she stood to attention, limbs rigid with vigilance. Her eyes lay locked upon the cell door, waiting, counting the incoming paces, trying to measure their distance. The girl was practically twitching with careful observation.
She didn't need telling twice. Faster than you could say Excalibur, Jan had flung herself across the Cell, skidding to the floor and back down into the hole rom whence she came. She heaved the stone slab shut behind her, but took care to leave the teeniest of tiniest gaps so she could still hear and see what was going on. Jan just hoped nobody came wandering in, for if they stood too heavily on the slab they'd plummet right through.
The Warden huh? Now who could this be. She hadn't been in the prison long enough to yet make his personal acquaintance. And the way everybody else in this place spoke and treated him, jan was rather glad she hadn't met him. Instinct forced her to instantly analyse and observe the Wardens gear and attire. Trained eyes spotted where a weakness could be exploited here and there, where his strengths did and did not lie. But she tried to shake this compulsion from her head, for she needed to concentrate on other things first.
Wait a moment...
G A L A H A D ? !
Janus fell backwards (hopefully nobody up top heard) and she had to try very very hard not to scream. It wouldn't have been a fearful scream mind you. More of a shocked beyond belief scream. As if somebody had just made her jump. Hands clasped tightly over her mouth, her eyes locked themselves upon the Knight. And she'd been speaking to him mere minutes ago.
By the twelve...
The warden fellow continued to spout more fire at Galahad, but his flames were unheated and misaimed. Galahad merely waved them away. The Wardens words did not burn this Knight, heavens no. Galahad was far too upstanding to be demeaned and brought down by such common insults and jests. In her opinion the Warden could sense this too, for he left almost as quickly as he had arrived, with nothing to offer the Knight save for petty jabs. And the two of them were alone once more.
Janus all of a sudden found herself a lot more nervous than she had previously been. All forgoing giddy enthusiasm was now doused by a bout of skittish anxiety. Knights lived by honour, it was their bread and butter. It's what people admired about them, what made them so highly rated and praised throughout the world. So if he were to ever find out what she did, who she really was, surely, he'd have her killed on the spot.
Slowly, very very slowly, Janny opened up the slab once more, and emerged from her hiding spot. There was no smile this time, despite her tries. Instead she looked cautious, almost frightened but not quite. her voice was quiet, and low when she spoke,
"Umm, are you alright... Sir?"
He'd reached Dragonspire a little while ago now, and sat amidst the old forgotten ruins of the place. Sat upon a rock, he cleaned his sword. The hem of his clock used as a makeshift cloth. His swipes were long, and delicate, careful not to press too hard upon the blade. The mans hood had been lowered, but despite the streaming daylight, he seemed still somehow cast in shadow. As if the sun itself were fearful of his presence. But I'm sure it was really just the time of day or something...
The man didn't look up at the call, he barely even flinched. Instead, he simply finished his current task before anything else. He brought the hem up from the bottom of the blade, all the way up to the top in a last sweeping stroke. The hem of his cloak fell back to the ground, and raising a hand, he pricked a finger against the tip of the sword. It wasn't a particularly forceful jab, quite delicate in fact actually. But a scarlet bubble beaded from his fingertip at the simple movement all the same.
The man smiled ever so slightly.
He lowered his hand and rubbed it against his tunic casually. Rising to his feet the blade was sheathed. Slow sauntering steps lead him towards the woman. He voice naturally low, but the tone was as casual as the rest of his apparent countenance.
"That name may as well be a death sentence one way or the other Madam. Are you sure you want to be throwing it around so offhandedly like that?"