Chapter Text
The winds were bitter and merciless through the snowy mountain path. This land of Skyrim was like no other he had experienced. Never had he been so cold!
His homeland was warm and pleasant. Even during the winter season it was never so bitter.
Casavir had decided to travel on foot, deeming the snowy mountains round wolf skull cave an unsuitable place for such a loyal steed.
Being in this harsh ruthless land made him miss the temple, he missed the comforts of his homeland and the familiar faces, but there was something he missed even more than his home....
He missed her. He had travelled a great distance, by land and water to get to Skyrim. Word had travelled like wildfire across Nirn of the events taking place in Skyrim. The return of the Dragonborn.
He looked down at the great city of Solitude in the distance. He remembered when he first walked through those gates. The stares he received.
A Paladin?! In Skyrim?! He remembered people say.
Apparently, Paladin's were a rare sight in this land. As alien as he was in such a city, the people of the town were welcoming enough. But he did not come all this way to sit in luxury of the Blue Palace and dally around in Solitude. He came for the Dragonborn.
He could not miss the opportunity to fight alongside this mighty being. An opportunity to prove himself. To demonstrate his bravery, to learn new tactics, and to do good in the world.
A cause that he found to be just.
The perfect cause.
He had wagered his options on whether to wait for this warrior to cross his path or whether to hunt them down himself. He knew there would be many strong and capable fighters who undoubtedly flocked to offer their swords to join this mighty warrior. For that reason, he made sure he was in preen condition.
The day before he had decided it was time to go find the Dragonborn himself, was the day luck was on his side. Whispers in the city began to rise.
The Dragonborn was spotted in the area.
One of the guards who had survived the Western watchtower attack now was situated in Solitude. As quoted from the guard "I never forget a face."
He thought the guards were toying with him at first. Of course, he'd fought alongside many capable women before. But this little Breton looked like nothing he had imagined the great Dovahkiin would ever embody. However, as he grew closer, he could see there was indeed something different about her. He sensed her aura. Strong, writhing with pure energy and fierce power, but at the same time soft.
How hard it was to speak to her at first. He sounded rehearsed, and he knew it.
It was hard to focus on anything else when he looked into her eyes. They were the colour of emeralds and glittered with slithers of gold. She seemed weary of her travels, but she was kind and polite enough not to shun him away.
He (being polite as always) joined her on her errands. Carrying her things and opening doors for her. He wanted to make a good impression, he had to. It was going so well! Then that damn ranger came out of nowhere and swept her away.
What in all things holy was he doing here..?!
Their was a way he could speak to her without interruptions, he had been working up to asking her to the Grand Crystal ball that Jarl Elisif had invited to. He was hoping perhaps she would be able to talk to her without her savage ranger at her heels. It would also help to have someone help him in the culture and customs of Skyrim, since he was so new to the land.
He was a little disheartened when she declined at first. That was it, the only chance he would be able to offer his skills to her cause had been foiled by that Ranger. He failed. With what luck still remained loyal to him, she returned the next day and accepted his offer to the ball.
Ah, the ball. When she came to meet him that night, he couldn't believe his eyes. She was strikingly attractive when he first saw her, but now in the dress she had chosen she left him speechless. She was perfect, it was elegant and classy. He felt weak at the knees when he noticed how it clung to her voluptuous figure. A figure she hid well under her baggy shirt and trousers.
Simple touching her delicate hands made sparks fly through him and took a huge blow to the great wall he had built around himself.
When he danced with her, having to hold her closer that he should have because she kept tripping over herself. That ravishing smile of accomplishment she gave him when she learnt the footwork of the dance.
He had dreamt of that night over and over, holding her close. Just the two of them, the soft melodic harp and the lute, losing himself in those beautiful eyes. Hearing her heartwarming laugh...
Oh how he wish he could go back and replay that day with her. If it wasn't for that savage she had tagging along, corrupting her every move and domineering over her...
Casavir pushed it to the back of his mind before he let it irritate him again as he reached Wolfskull cave. The wind was growing stronger as he continued to climb to hills.
He had overheard a man in the town raving about something strange going on here. Something unholy. Being a Paladin, he felt it was his duty to resolve this matter, to put an end to worries of the locals. It may also benefit his cause to give himself a reputation in Skyrim. If she learnt of his good deeds. She may come back.
Upon approaching the cave he was greeted by walking Skeletons that were guarding the entrance. How are they even moving? He thought, though he didn't stop to ask as they attacked, not much for guards as Casavir made short work of them.
He could feel an evil aura emanating from inside, it made his stomach turn. He clasped the grip of his sword with one hand and readied himself for whatever awaited him inside. Inside he battled through against the undead and the necromancers. Until he reached the old Nordic ruins buried in the centre of the mountain.
"Impressive" He shrugged, a violet ball of light was building at the top of the towered ruin. The evil spewing from it was heavy as it made Casavir feel uneasy. He said a quick prayer as a readied himself for a draugr that had spotted him and charged, making Casavir's presence known to the rest of the hostiles.
The battle was on, and it was a brutal fight. The ruins echoed with the sound of blades colliding, spells flying through the air and bodies hitting the floor.
When every last draugr was slain, and every necromancer had fallen. He placed his sword on his back and regained his calm composure. The was a brutal one, he had used his restoration skills many times in that battle, mostly on the necromancers as their spells of ice and sparks were difficult to avoid. He was left stumped when he was blasted against the wall by some unforeseen force when a draugr echoed some thundering words.
What was that? He thought. The evil presence began to disintegrate from the cave, he was relieved he had rid the cave of its demonic aura. One good deed done. He smirked.
He scoured around the ruins for useful supplies and headed back out the cave. But as he reached the the bottom of the tower, he suddenly felt very weak and stumbled to his knees.
His arm suddenly felt stiff and ached. A painful throbbing began along his arm and made his blood burn like hot lead.
Ouch...! He winched as he peeled back the blood soaked chain mail and leathers.
A knife wound he had sustained during his battle when a necromancer jumped out of the shadows wielding a dagger. It was surprisingly more painful than he expected. When he examined it closer he saw the wound looked rather sickly for a fresh cut, it was swollen and red, the veins around the wound were turning a dark green. The room began to spin and he began to sweat profusely.
Poison... I've been poisoned. He gritted his teeth, looking through his vials to find something to help but all had was a strength potion. He popped the cork and drank it up.
That'll have to do. With the borrowed strength he made his way out of the cave. He had been poisoned before, but whatever was on that dagger was potent. He needed to get to town. It was the only way he would survive.
This poison was stung in his veins as it made every fibre of him cry out in pain, every movement he made was agonising and even through sweat dripped from his brow, he felt cold.
Finally out of the cave and welcomed again by the bitter cold, It made his entire body shake. He headed down the road and used his sword as a crutch to move along. The poison was working it's way round his body and had hit his legs, making him fall to his knees.
Before he came to Skyrim he would have embraced death with open arms. He did not fear death. But after meeting her, it had wavered his ideas of his suicidal quest. He wanted to live. He had to see her again! For the thought of leaving this world without seeing her one last time was more agonising than the poison that was slowly killing him.
Damn it! He sucked through his grinding teeth.
His strength was weakening, he could feel his muscles seizing up with every movement he made.
I'm not going to make it. Don't think like that! Get up. Keep going! He ushered himself forward along the snowy road. Then a sound caught his attention, a howl came on the wind, barks and snarls grew closer and began to surround him.
Wolves... Just what I need at this moment, he groaned angrily.
He propped himself against a tree and readied himself as the first wolf came at him. They ran at him without hesitation but he punched it hard and watched it scamper away as he regained himself. The punch send a wave of prickling pain through him.
He was so weak and the wolves sensed it, the tenacious Paladin kept them at bay as he gripped desperately to the last strings of life.
"I won't die here." He snarled. Her wonderful eyes and her infectious smile came to him. As if the Gods gave him a vision of hope, or something to give him comfort in his last moments. He remembered the fire he felt burn inside her. Everything. Her smile, her hair, her eyes, posture - everything.
"I will see you again. My lady." He vowed to himself. Giving himself a reason to fight, he would make it back to Solitude... he had to...
Another wolf pounced and he swung his sword slicing the wolf in two. The swords strike was too strong and pulled him down with its momentum.
DAMN IT! He cursed in a flash of panic.
On his back, he was exposed and the wolves did not hesitate at their opportunity, they went in for the kill. His steel armour gave him some shielding as he protected his face and throat. With one wolf inches from his face snapping and drooling. He gripped its throat tighter until he felt a crunch and it ceased to move. He roared in agony and rage as he fought for his life. They gave him no chance of getting to his feet.
One wolf seized his blood soaked arm and bit down hard. He yelled in pain as it sunk its teeth into his exposed arm, leaving him with only one arm to protect himself. He could feel it's teeth chewing and tearing at the flesh.
The sky was spinning and the wolves snarling jaws and vicious eyes began to fade into a blur. He grabbed another wolf by its mane and threw it at the one chewing on his arm.
Two down, he told himself. He realised the others had backed away, and were snarling at something thundering slowly in the snow, he heard its growl.
Bear... Of course it was a bear.
He feared it was over, the bear also took it chance for an easy kill. He rolled over and saw his sword inches away. Grasping it tightly with white knuckles he knew he had little chance against a bear in his state. He had used all his strength to throw the damn wolf off him but he had none left to face such a beast...
Was this a sign of it being the end?
Were the gods telling him it was time?
The questions ran wild through his mind. But Casavir would never back down from a battle until his last breath. If he was to die here, he would do it with honour. He tried to use his healing tome to try to stem the bleeding, but his magicka was practically non existent. The poison was eating away at everything. He couldn't stand, left to kneel before such a creature. If this was to be the end, let it be just.
The wolves had gone. Even they weren't foolish enough to challenge a bear. But Casavir had no such luxury as the bear began to charge. Building up all his might and roared loudly to match that of the bears, and slammed his sword into a position to skewer the bear. It did not make it to Casavir...
There was a loud crack of thunder a rumbling blast hurtled the beast well away from him.Before he could look to see what was happening, Casavir collapsed on the fresh fallen snow. The poison finally claiming his life.
The snow fell on his face he could no longer fight, he could feel himself slipping away. His heart ached as he saw a someone running to him. The last thing he would see was a vision of her, in her flowing dress walking gracefully to his side.
I'm sorry, my lady... I failed... He exhaled deeply as his eyes fluttered shut and slipped into the dark.
But in the darkness he heard voices, familiar voices. Though he could not say where he knew them from.
"Forget it, he's dead." "No, he's still alive! We need to - Oi! What are you doing with his sword?"
"What? Do you have any idea how much his sword will sell for?"
"You're not having it, he's alive. Help me! We need to get him to town."
"Ugh! Fine." What's going on? Who are these people? Where are they taking me?! It was dark... so dark.
"Hells Shite, he's heavy!" "Just shut up and lift."
He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything! All he could do was listen.
"Woaw I'm not doing that." "Fine I'll do it myself."
"He won't be happy if he wakes up and finds out..."
"If you're not going to help. GET OUT!"
What is happening? His thoughts echoed loudly around him.
In the darkness a small light began to appear, faint and small at first, but he felt drawn to it. It came closer, and it's warm light was comforting in the dark. He could hear a woman's voice singing softly, it was coming from the light. He'd never heard this melody before, it was beautifully enchanting, as though it was calling to him. Was this an divines angels calling to him out of the darkness? Or calling him to the other side?
He kept a short distance from the light. In fear it was the end. Though he took comfort listening to woman's voice humming sweetly.
"Casavir..." His ear pricked up at hearing a whisper of his name coming from the light.
I know that voice. He thought, strangely he couldn't pinpoint where he had heard it before.
"Please... Please wake up." The voice whispered, he felt something soft and warm touch his cheek for a brief moment.
I can feel...! He gasped. The light shone brighter and brighter. He covered his eyes as the light grew blindingly bright and engulfed him.
Pain Pain was the first thing he felt as he came round. He wanted to cry out but nothing came. The light ebbed and he was hit with the return more senses. He could feel fabric on his clammy skin. His blood pumping in his veins like acid. His heartbeat thumped like a drum in his ears. The smell of tobacco and burning wood from a hearth.
He opened his eyes, he was in a bed. He was in Solitude, back in his rented room at the winking skeever.
I'm alive...? He thought to himself. After a few seconds to adjust, he sighed with a relief, the Gods did not abandon me.
"Ugh" He groaned as a stinging pain slipped back and ebbed, like the waves on the shore. He looked around his room. His eyes still adjusting to the rays of light coming in from the window. He could hear people outside, getting on with their day to day lives.
His armour sat on the chest at the side of the bed his sword was resting in the rack.
He saw a jug next to him and he reached for it as he felt his overpowering thirst.
Stupidly he reached out and knocked it off the counter as it crashed to the floor, the sound of metal clanging on the wooden floor was deafening and the sharp shrill felt like someone shot an arrow through his head. He cried out and covered his ringing ears.
How did I get here? He thought. Looking around the room once again, lazily rolling around trying to sit himself up. As he did, his head began to spin like a top. He squinted his eyes to focus, he must have been sat there for a while, thinking hard about what happened.
The cave, the poison, the wolves.... A bear. – Did I kill it? – No – there was someone else there... or something. What was tha...
The door opened making Casavir sluggishly lifted his head up at the door as a man walked in. His amber eyes coldly staring at him.
"So... you're up – shame I was kind of hoping you wouldn't." He groaned and crossed his arms as a wolf walked in and sniffed the air in the direction of Casavir.
"...Bishop?!" Casavir said confused, raspy voice. "What are you doing here?"
Casavir's froze as the Ranger's companion clambered in through the small gap. Her hazel eyes twinkled with relief and joy as she clumsily barged into the room, pushing Bishop aside.
"Cas! You're awake!" Casavir had only dreamt of her voice but now winched his head as her beautiful voice was almost deafening. Yet he endured, stunned as she hopped over the footboard and landed on her knees in front of him. It was her... his fair lady. She still wore that lovely smile and her eyes sparkled with pure beauty.
"M... my lady...?" Casavir stuttered, completely taken back by her sudden presence.
I'm dead... I died on the mountain. That bear killed me and I'm dead. He thought.
"How are you feeling Cas? I feared we'd come too late." She leant forward and reached out to touch his forehead. Her delicate palm sent a surge through him.
He immediately tensed up as he looked at his hands. They were shaking.
"Casavir?" She asked again when he didn't reply. Casavir felt allot better now. The Gods had answered his prayers and had blessed him to once again stand... well sit in her presence.
She had been his rescuer, it was her voice he had heard in the dark. She had saved him.
He felt elated and overwhelmed with the idea she had saved his life. Then shame and embarrassment came crashing around him.
What good am I if she has to save me? He thought. He vowed to protect and prided himself on his strength and skill. Yet here he was.
"My lady... This is most embarrassing" He sighed after taking a few gulps. I'm a failure
"Well - yes, it is embarrassing." Bishop shrugged slouching against the door. "And you think you could protect her out there? You can't even protect yourself." Bishop scoffed seeming rather proud of himself.
"Bishop? Why don't you do us a favour and take a bath. You're starting to smell." She interrupted him. He smirked.
"Uhh no, no I'm pretty sure that's just you princess. Although your smell could have just rubbed off on me." He winked with a wolfish grin.
That insolent, obnoxious....little..! How dare he speak to her that way! Casavir's blood began to boil with rage, agonising along with the acidic sting in his veins. Casavir opened his mouth to speak in her defence but she had beat him to the punch.
"Oh, Bishop. Just fuck off, will ya!" She groaned unamused. Casavir's jaw almost hit the floor – hearing such profanity coming from such an lovely being.
"Or on! Anytime any place my dear!" Bishop laughed.
That was it. That ranger would pay for his insolence, Casavir once again opened his mouth and began to pull the sheets off himself, not sure what he was going to do once he was up but he sure as hells knew he wouldn't let Bishop get away with such insolence. But she already had it covered.
"Ha! Oh, Bishie you are cute when you TRY to be funny. But seriously, go make yourself useful – somewhere else."
"Whatever!" Bishop growled at her referring to him as cute. He rolled his eyes and left the room with Karnwyr.
Once they were alone she looked back at Casavir and smiled warmly at him, reaching over and pulling the sheets back over his exposed knee.
"How dare he speak to you like that." Casavir shook his head, clearly in disgust.
"He's not so bad when you get used to him." She said with a tender smile. "You shouldn't let him get to you."
"I'm sorry." Casavir sighed. "Forgive me. I just don't like to hear him talk to you like that."
She completely baffled him. She was a good woman, kind, sweet, affectionate and caring. How? How could this creature be so resilient to that savage!
Her hand reached up and gently poked at his temple on the side of his head. Her touch made Casavir look up at her.
"Keep letting him get to you like that, and this vein right here, will pop." She smirked before climbing off the bed and poured him a drink from another jug.
She was right. By letting that man rile him meant he was winning. He should count himself as lucky. He was her companion, he should be treating her with respect. Yet she allowed him to walk alongside her. He was not worthy of the honour.
But then.. Am I worthy?
"Casavir. What's wrong?" Her voice came to him. "You're not sad because Bishop is digging at you with the whole poison thing, are you?" She asked, sitting back down on the bed again and handing him the cup.
Poison thing? She spoke of it as though it was a mundane problem. He had cleared the cave, yes. But he had been brought to his knees, only to be rescued by her. The one he swore he could protect. His first real taste of what was outside Skyrim's city walls and this is where he ends up.
"He's right, my lady." He sighed deeply. "I failed – I was brought down by some mere poison. And then wolves. And then... there was a bear...?"
"Drink." She nudged the cup in his hands as she noticed his voice straining. He obeyed.
"Yes, there was a bear." She smirked. "And that 'mere' poison was jarrin root. Very rare, but very deadly. Clearly someone didn't have the time to put it into a brew. Thank the gods we found you when we did! And! Thank the gods Angeline from the apothecary had the ingredients to make you a cure. Otherwise you'd be six feet under by now." She said as she hopped off the bed and dipped a cloth in a bowl of melting ice.
When the cold cloth touched his brow he flinched away. She withdrew and watched him for a minute. He looked up at her with those lovely blue eyes before looking at the cloth. A timid smile on his lips he reached up for the cloth.
"Uhh... please. Allow me." He said taking the cloth from her hands. She smiled and let go. Sitting back down on the bed as he placed it on his head and wiped the back of his neck. She could sense it in his posture. His downcast head and even his breath. This really was taking a real toll on him. Wow, he was almost as bad as her when she lost a game of cards.
She hated cards. She got WAY too competitive and she didn't like herself when she got that way. Best to stay clear of card games.
"You know." She began nudging his knee with hers. "While you've been a lazy bum, laying in bed for the past three days."
Casavir looked up, tilting his head towards her. "Elisif sent her soldiers to investigate the cave. Did you really clear that cave by yourself?" she asked.
He nodded, his brows furrowing into a inquisitive expression. "Yes."
"Well... That's impressive." She smiled, raising her eyes. "I knew you must be a good fighter, but shit! That cave was full of draugrs and necromancers."
Casavir looked at her his expression flitting from startled but her tone, but also timid. She regained composure and smiled. A sense of pride started tingling in him. A bashful smile crept on his face. His cheeks turned a little pink, a good sign after how pale he looked. It was working. She was recognising his skills!
"Thank you." He bowed his head.
"You have quite a good reputation round here now." She added.
"I only did what needed to be done." He humbly replied.
"Yeah well. You saved a lot of people. Nice to know someone was looking out for Solitude." Sharis smiled. Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The touch of her hand brought attention to the feel on his bare skin. In slight panic, he looked down at what he was wearing. Then breathed a sigh of relief when he saw he was still wearing his shirt. Soggy and filthy from hours of wear and missing one entire sleeve.
"My lady?"
"Hmm?"
"Who... who removed my armour?..." He had to ask.
Praying it wasn't her. When she didn't reply he looked up to see her smiling awkwardly.
Oh gods! He wanted the world to swallow him up.
"Bishop wouldn't help! He said carrying you here was all he would do." She tried to reassure him when she saw his face turn a deep crimson.
"I didn't see anything! If that's what's bothering you? I was very precise in keeping your dignity." She tried to comfort when she saw his turn a dark pink and his jaw drop. "Sorry about the shirt by the way. I'll get you another..!"
"No, No, my lady it's just that... Wait. Bishop? Bishop brought me here?" Casavir repeated her, in case he didn't hear her correctly. She nodded.
"Cost me a bag of gold and six tankards of ale but it was worth it." She nervously looking down at his hands holding the water skin.
"...Well. It appears I have him to thank as well." He shook his head in disbelief.She nodded with a serene smile, before she got off the bed again, brushing down her shirt before resting her hands on her hips.
"I need to go get my things and make you another healing salve. I shouldn't be long." She started walking to the door.
"My lady?" Casavir's voice called after her. She turned to look over her shoulder at him.
"Thank you. For saving my life. I am in your debt." He bowed his head. He looked up at her once again when he heard her giggling at the door.
"You don't owe me anything, Cas. You would have done the same for me." She smiled. "Don't go anywhere I'll be right back." Casavir replied with a nervous chuckle.
As if he was going to just get up and go walking around. When he looked up again, she was gone.
Alone in the room once again, he could actually take in the room now. Most things had been left where he put them. Books, bottles of potions and elixirs he left behind.
His satchel was thrown on the chest along with his armour. Both sword and his armour were still covered in dirt and spattering of blood from his enemies. He really needed to get that off before it rusted his gear.
He finally had the time to look at his injury. He inspected the bandage wrapped around his upper arm. Flexing the muscles in the arm and sucking air through his teeth when the pain (though dull) ebbed back. He resting back onto his pillow looking up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and listened to all the sounds around him. Every creak, voice, dogs barking in the street and children playing outside. She was right. He had saved these people. He smiled broadly as he thought of his success. His plan had worked. It wasn't long until he drifted off to sleep again.
When he woke, she was back at his side, attempting to dress his wound without waking him.
He detested about her nursing him but he had no say in the matter. He was still too weak to get up. He was a very skilled healer, but his strength and his magicka and not yet returned. Until then it appeared he would have to rely on her nursing skills.
Thankfully she was respectful to his wishes so she allowed him to assist, holding his finger on parts of the bandages as she wrapped it round. Holding things for her she needed close at hand.
She was very good. Each step was methodical and precise. He watched her remove the bandage and clean the wound before applying a salve over the very neat stitches on his bicep and finished off by wrapping a clean bandage around the wound.
Being in her company was so nerve-racking at first. Being so long since he had seen her, he didn't what to so with himself. But her bubbly and nurturing personality pulled him out of it and it became effortless to be in her presence. He had never been so comfortable in someone's presence so quickly before.
The conversation went back and forth without any awkward silences. She would talk about the strangest things, things people would normally disregard but she was so observant. Her quick and dynamic way of thinking was very refreshing.
He had missed her so much.
Being with her felt so natural, like it was where he belonged. Dare he dream? That he may have found his sanctuary, a place where he could rest his beaten and bruised soul. A place where he could live. Free from the nightmares and the sorrow he had endured. Such a feeling terrified him.
He did not wish to open up to another in such a way, once was enough. He feared his heart could not take another, but something about her made it almost impossible to resist. The walls he built around him, that shielded and sheltered him turned from thick bouldering stone walls to soft clay in her presence. He loved the way she smiled. Yet underneath her smile he could sense a sadness, almost mirroring his own... perhaps greater.
She did not look like the Dragonborn. Wielding the blood of a Dragon, he had expected a fierce and hardy warrior. He thought the Dovahkiin would have been... well...
She was young, in her early twenties, average height for a Breton. Though she was not an average Breton, she was strikingly beautiful. Long brown hair that fell in waves and bled strands of gold which shone in the sunlight. And her eyes were a shade of green he had never seen before, sprinkled with golden earthy tones, they were mesmerising.
They stayed up way into the night. The world outside was sleeping, now sleep came for them both.
"Well. It's late. I'll let you get some rest." She covered her mouth as she yawned, then gracefully got up and walked to the door. He didn't really want her to go, he wanted her to stay with him. He felt the need to grab her and hold her tight. He was afraid if she walked out of that door then he'd wake in the morning and this would have been all a dream.
"My lady? May I ask you how long you will be staying in Solitude?" He asked with a cautious edge to his voice.
"Until you are well again." She replied.
He nodded and looked down at his hands, his thumbs rubbing the rim of his cup. Then I wish I never recover to my full strength, he thought.
"Now, c'mon. Drink your tea and get to bed." She ordered in a mothering tone. He nodded and put his empty cup down. Looking up at her to what he thought could be the last time.
"Goodnight Casi." She grinned leaning against the door. He chuckled shaking his head with a nervous smile. Where normally he would have frowned and disapproved of being given a nickname, he would graciously accept this one.
"Goodnight, my lady." He replied politely.
She smiled and left the room and headed to her room to get ready for bed. Stripping off her trousers and leaving her large undershirt on, she sat herself on the edge of the bed and rummaged through her bag for her comb to tame her wild locks.
She immediately felt a presence in the room. She knew it was Bishop – it was always Bishop.
"So. I guess you're hoping I'll stick around once we have the Paladin added to the party." Bishop said as he laid himself out on the bed.
"That's your call Bishop, not mine."
"I don't understand why you want him with us. You don't need him, you've done fine on your own so far." Bishop groaned.
"That may be so, but I think we can benefit from having his skills with us." She replied.
"Really?... well then I gu-"
"Bishop! Just go to bed will you. I'm too tired for this." She snapped.
She sat in the awkward silence that suddenly fell in the room. She heard Bishop sigh deeply before leaving again making it known with an almighty slam of her door.
What did it matter if Bishop left? He was a thorn in her side ever since Casavir appeared. Ever since the crystal ball, Bishop became controlling and possessive over everything she did.
Yet she enjoyed his company. His wicked ideas and volatility was in ways attractive to her. His heart was in the right place... sometimes.
But her mind has always wandered back to the Paladin sat alone in the winking skeever. She couldn't help feel something towards Casavir. Something about him gave her calm. Something she craved. Something she needed. Now more than ever.
All her life she had felt out of place, now she understood why... she was Dragonborn.
A blessing and a curse. Ever since she became the Dragonborn people treat her differently. She hated it. She always felt lost and alone even with Bishop by her side. But... Casavir.
He treat her like no one had ever treat her. She was strong and independent but it was nice to walk alongside someone who would open doors for you, treat you like a lady should be. Respectful and courteous. Being ruggedly handsome was just meant he was also good eye candy.
Oh Gods sake girl!
What? Don't you deny it. You felt those muscles under that shirt.
He's a paladin!
A hot paladin.
She rolled around her bed in frustration. She wasn't going to argue with that. When she walked into Solitude that day, she was tired, exhausted from her travels and battered by her responsibilities. She was filthy and was in desperate need of a soft bed and a hot meal. She went straight to the inn and got a room, desperate to have her own space away from Bishop. After renting a room she had a bath. She headed off buy new supplies and sell some of the items she had picked up on her travels.
That was when she saw him, he certainly stood out from all the other people around him. He marched himself over to the guards and began talking to them. Cool armour, she remembered thinking. She thought nothing more of it and went straight to Bits and pieces. But once she came out, she was knelt down trying to shove her things she had just bought into her sack while doing so, she took this time to get a better look at the stranger.
The first thing she noticed was how tall he was, tall like a Nord and held himself like an imperial. She was fascinated by his armour he was wearing – she'd never seen anything like it before.
His clean cut, well groomed appearance caught her attention next. Nothing like the hardy Nords or any locals to Skyrim. He was definitely a foreigner.
Who is this guy? She thought.
Her eyes moved up to his face, that was when she realised he was looking right at her. She froze in her boots, she didn't want to look away but she felt rather uncomfortable staring at a stranger from across the street.
Then she realised he was making his way over, looking straight at her. When he drew closer she realised he was Breton.
Bloody big Breton! She thought. She remembered having the urge to run, then the urge to hide. Why? She had done nothing wrong.
He fashioned a pleasant close lipped smile that did not seem to reach his eyes. He was very, VERY handsome. Hells, his deep and timbering voice caught her by surprise, it was so bassy and felt like warm honey.
She was surprised he had been looking for her, he actually wanted to help her? She didn't have to pay him or do any favours?
She was sure it was a joke when he asked her to the Grand Crystal Ball. Like a commoner such as herself would ever be seen attending the legendary Crystal Ball. Yet... he seemed sincere. She originally came to Solitude for the burning of King Olaf festival. Her Uncle Finn said there was nothing like it in all of Skyrim.
But the Crystal ball? Wow. The Festival went of for days, so there was no risk of her missing the festival if she attended the ball too!
The Grand Crystal ball was one of the best experiences of her life. She had declined his offer at first, having just met him and all... though after a good night's sleep and deep consideration she returned to him to accept his offer.
Who knows! She'd never been to a ball before and she was up for trying everything once... within her limits of course!
Though she felt awkward at first in her dress, she didn't dare look at herself in the mirror. She wanted to use her invisibility spell to hide when onlookers stared at her when she left the gown shop.
She was so on edge.... What are they gawking at?
Am I wearing this right? Have I got something on my dress?
They walked to the ball with her arm looped around his, she felt comforted, calm with him. She was relieved when he admitted he was a little nervous too.
But... she loved the experience. Getting away from reality for a while, to forget her responsibilities and be surrounded by fine gowns and luxurious music. It was what she needed. To forget, even for just the night.
She smiled climbing into bed and tossed and turned till she finally drifted to sleep. Dreaming of her night at the ball with her tall, charming and out of the ordinary Paladin.