#it was galen verras in case you were wondering

[kanerallels]

Love it when you write a little piece of dialogue or something and you're like "OH YEAH that's *insert character here*. I'm the best"

[kanerallels]

Galen and Saville modern au!

This was actually INCREDIBLY fun to write and also INCREDIBLY LONG so here you go! And here it is on AO3

(tw for a little gore/mentions of death)

@lucilliantpearl @magpie-trove I really really hope you guys don't mind if I tag you guys-- since you're the only people I know who love Valiant, I figured why not? Feel free to ignore this, though!

Galen Verras had worked a lot of strange cases in his time working as a US Marshall. Mysterious deaths and kidnappings and every kind of horror imaginable. 

But this one was particularly confusing to his superior officers. The gang that had been tormenting the city of Reggen for the past few months— known, rather unoriginally, as the Giants, thanks to the massive size of most of their recruits— had held up another store. Every time this had happened previously, there had been a shooting and at least one death, if not more. Galen had lost count of the amount of crime scenes he’d arrived at to find a dead body and the same symbol carved into the victim’s skin— a crown made of bones.

But this time was different. Galen had reviewed the security footage a hundred times, and it hadn’t made any more sense any of the times. Even now, as he replayed in his head while he drove, it confused him.

The shop itself had been small, and the security cameras hadn’t worked. So the only footage they had was from a camera outside. Over and over, Galen had watched the same thing— the two recruits, both carrying weapons, went inside. Through the windows, a struggle could barely be made out, until another person entered the shop.

Not ten minutes later, the customers inside came streaming out, along with the boy who’d been hurt in the struggle. Paramedics had arrived on the scene, as had Galen himself about half an hour later. There was no sign of the two recruits, no injuries other than the boy, and no money missing from the shop.

All the witnesses gave their statements, and they all led one way— the young woman who’d come into the shop. According to the witnesses, she had distracted them from their target, scaring off the recruits somehow.

Galen had seen this gang operate before. Some girl was not likely to scare them off.

So what exactly had happened?

This was what he was on his way to find out, taking his slightly shabby car into the clothing district in Reggen to find one Saville Gramton, who was supposed to be the young woman who’d scared off the gang members. Supposedly, she lived with her father above his sewing shop.

He spotted the sign saying “Tailor”, hanging proudly from the storefront, and pulled off to the side of the road to park. As he got out of the car, he took a moment to prepare himself, mentally. If this woman really had somehow terrified two gang members, then Galen needed to be ready. Either way, there was some piece of the puzzle he was missing. The only question was what it was.

Crossing the street, he moved to the small door and knocked. It was a long minute before the door swung open.

“We’re clos—”

The woman who answered it froze, her eyes locking onto Galen’s for just a moment. I know her, he realized. Somehow, I know her. But the memory refused to emerge from the depths of his brain, and he decided to keep moving despite it.

“Miss Gramton? I’m Federal Marshal Galen Verras,” he told her calmly, tapping a hand against the badge clipped to his belt. Her gaze flicked to it, then narrowed very slightly.

He’d seen that look before, on a hundred different witnesses or criminals who were preparing to lie, to protect themselves in whatever way necessary— and he meant whatever.

Generally speaking, those witnesses weren’t girls who probably weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, though. Saying the woman was slight was an understatement, and Galen had to wonder for the thousandth time how she’d managed to fight off two members of the most vicious gang in the city.

“Can I help you?” she said warily.

“Hopefully, yes,” Galen told her. “I’m here about a robbery that happened a few streets down from her, in Tomas Mardon’s bakery. Do you know it?”

“A little,” she said vaguely. “I go there every now and then.”

Lie. An interview with Tomas had confirmed that Miss Gramton was a frequent visitor, although Galen had gotten the feeling the man wasn’t telling them everything, either. “I see,” he said. “And were you there yesterday afternoon, around three?”

She hesitated, and Galen could see the debate going on in her eyes. He found himself wondering what he would do, too. Would he let the lie keep going, or would he push harder?

“Sir? Who’s at the door?”

Miss Gramton’s eyes widened as a boy hobbled around the corner, using a crutch to hold himself upright. Galen knew this boy, and he even knew where from. Flipping through his memory, he said, “Will, right? It’s Marshal Verras, from the bakery yesterday. I was there after you were hurt.”

The boy paused, glancing at Miss Gramton, and Galen did the same. Her eyes said she was trapped, and they both knew it. Calmly, Galen said, “Why don’t you let me in, and we’ll talk about this?”

Letting out a sigh, she nodded. “Fine.”

Stepping back, Miss Gramton led the way into the shop— which was small, but the tables covered in fabric and a box containing thread, needles, and shears spoke of enough customers to live comfortably enough— and into a back room that held a table and a few chairs. There was a small stove in the corner, near a small refrigerator and a few cupboards.

Miss Gramton took her seat, nodding for Galen to do the same. Will sat next to her, looking back and forth between them like he was waiting for his companion to lunge for Galen’s throat. Which, judging by her glare, wasn’t entirely possible.

There was a short silence, and Galen took the opportunity to study Saville Gramton. She was small, but had a steely sort of strength about her, although that could have just been her scowl. Her short-cropped hair was fair, her jaw square, and her eyes a blue-gray that held Galen’s defiantly.

There was something distinctly captivating about them, too, as she studied him right back, but that was hardly relevant at the time.

Folding his hands on top of the table, he said, “It was you at the bakery yesterday, then? Wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

Galen frowned. “And yet, you chose not to remain with the witnesses. You ran off, instead of staying to be interviewed. Technically, I could charge you with obstruction of justice.”

“Are you going to?”

Not a hint of fear in her voice, although Galen knew she had to be concerned. He couldn’t help but admire it, even though he knew it would make things harder. Letting out a sigh, he said, “I would like it if I didn’t have to. But for that to happen, I need your side of the story.” His gaze flicking to Will, he added, “And more of an explanation here as to what exactly is going on here. But let’s start with the robbery, and what happened to those gang members. Did you kill them?”

Miss Gramton’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out an incredulous laugh. “You think I killed two gang members twice my size?”

Galen couldn’t hold back the slightest twitch of a smile. “Not exactly, but it couldn’t be ruled out.”

He was fairly certain rolling one’s eyes at a Federal Marshal was a bad idea, but that didn’t stop her. “I didn’t kill them. They left. Not dead, gone. I needed to chase them off, so I did. That’s all.”

And there was something so familiar about that intonation that Galen was absolutely positive that he knew her. He knew her from somewhere, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what it was. He was about to ask if he knew her when Will piped up.

“Are you going to arrest Sir?”

Galen blinked, confused. “Who?”

Nodding at Miss Gramton, Will said, “That’s what I call her. So… are you?”

“I’d prefer it if I didn’t have to,” Galen said steadily. “But first I’m going to need to ask her some questions. That should help the situation.” He turned his gaze to Miss Gramton. “So. What can you tell me? Start from the beginning, if you can.”

After a brief hesitation, she started speaking. Galen listened intently as she told him how her father had suffered a terrible injury, and was currently in the hospital on life support. How she’d been forced to keep the family business going on her own, keeping up the pretense that it was her father doing the work so she could keep the customers he’d garnered with his reputation, and find a few of her own with her work.

She hadn’t meant to throw things into such disarray by picking a fight with the gang. All Saville had been trying to do was protect Will. And in doing so, she’d tricked two men working for the most dangerous man in the city. 

It didn’t take a genius to guess how he’d respond to this. The Duke— the leader of the gang— would be offended, at best. At worst, he would be out for blood. The best thing to do would be to take both Will and Miss Gramton into protective custody, Galen knew. 

But there was the complication of Will’s legal situation— he was in a group home, Saville had told him, and came here to get away from time to time— and the fact that Galen wasn’t sure he could trust everyone around him. With Cinnan being put on administrative leave indefinitely, and Leymonn in his place, he didn’t have anyone to consult about the legality of the situation, and he wasn’t sure Leymonn wouldn’t use it against him somehow.

He was alone. Sure, he had allies, but Galen missed the days when he had someone with him who he trusted to watch his back, who helped him be better and work better.

It had been a long time since those days. Long enough that Galen was used to being on his own. But that didn’t mean he liked it.

“What’s going to happen next?”

Miss Gramton’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and he glanced at her. She was still wearing that fierce expression, like she was ready to do battle. But even she couldn’t take on an entire gang on her own.

“You’ve upset some powerful people, Miss Gramton,” he told her. “So I’d like to put both you and Will in protective custody. I have… a friend you can stay with.” Lissa wouldn’t like it, and Eldin would be Eldin about it. But they were the closest thing to people he could trust that he had left. 

“I can’t just leave,” she protested. “This is my life. And if I leave, I won’t be able to pay our debts. The landlord—”

“I’ll handle your landlord,” Galen said firmly. “For now, we get you to safety. Both of you. Then we handle the next steps.”

She didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes distrustful and worried. “I know you don’t trust me,” Galen told her. For whatever reason, it felt right to be honest with her, like her blue-gray eyes would see through whatever comforting lies he offered her. “And I can’t blame you. But I can promise to do everything in my power to keep you two safe, and to bring the men who hurt Will to justice.”

The last part settled it. He could see it in her face, in the resolved set of her jaw. “Alright,” she said. “Tell me what we need to do.”

Galen nodded, mentally gathering himself for the battle with Leymonn and his other superiors ahead. It would be hard— it always was— but the glance he took at Saville gave him a strange sense of comfort. Her glare was battle-ready, and he realized he might have another ally in this fight after all.

She couldn’t do much, he knew. But it was comforting all the same.