A/N: Yeah, so, you all want something worthwhile, like a TFP or a TT or even a YJ fic...
SO I WROTE SOME SKYRIM THINGS! YAY TOM DOING FANSERVICE! AW YEAH.
Thusly, there was this thing. I have been playing Skyrim a LOT lately, (yeah, I play as a girl, so sue me), and you get to thinking, what's Lydia (the best Housecarl in all of creation) thinking about all of this? How does she view the Dovahkiin as a person? How do people view the Dragonborn and Lydia together? Why can slim, black haired young women use INTIMIDATE on seven-foot-tall Orcs and win? (Okay, that last one I already know is completely possible.)
And then this happened. Everywhere. A lot. There's going to be more of this.
Anya the Phantom is my personal Dovahkiin. That is all that I own here. Have fun.
Housecarl
Lydia considers herself very lucky that she's assigned to the Thane of Whiterun.
"Thane" seems like an empty word for this woman, who showed up out of nowhere, killed a dragon, and then dragged Lydia off on literally the biggest adventure of her life. This woman's crawled through dungeons with her, pointed out traps for her, saved her from reanimated corpses, ridden on dragons with her, quite literally taken her to Sovngarde and back, saved the world, tricked her into accidentally flirting with Ysgramor, and many other millions of things besides.
Lydia didn't really see much in this young woman wearing a forest green armoured coat and a brown leather vest over that with simple canvas trousers and black boots with about an inch of heel, who introduced herself as "just Anya" but was referred to in hushed tones as "the Phantom" by everyone else, but even a few hours in her company was incredibly enlightening. Anya is a Nord, like her; her hair is black and cut short and braided close to her head to prevent anyone grabbing it in a fight, like her; but while Lydia has just her physical presence and her sword; Anya has some kind of imperceptible aura of pure danger and malevolence surrounding her – maybe it's the too-perfect features, or the slightly glowing amber eyes and slightly reptilian pupils (Lydia knows Anya isn't a vampire, so that's ruled out, at least); something about her is dangerous and different. This aura is a hundred times stronger when Anya's just absorbed a dragon's power, so Lydia assumes it's a side effect of the Dragon Blood running through her Thane's veins. Anya fights like no-one she's ever seen – armed with a beautiful one-of-a-kind diamond dagger, she vanishes at random and then suddenly the attacker seems to be having his throat cut by the air – and isn't limited by weapons at all; when a team of thugs ambushed them at a bar, Anya broke one's neck with a word and froze the other two solid with another.
They only really started being "friends" after Lydia was being bothered by that hopeless bard Mikael, and Anya just walked up and punched the poor fool out. Then, another layer of the woman was somehow peeled back – she changed from the terrifying professional assassin and freelance mercenary to a funny, dependable friend with a silver tongue and far too much skill in Illusion magic.
Lydia still doesn't know how she does the thing where her head goes invisible. All she knows is it utterly terrifies poor Jon Battle-Born, and it's hilarious.
Even "friend" isn't really enough to describe the relationship between Housecarl and Thane. Lydia can name everyone she's really "close" to on one hand, and Anya is probably first on that list. Hel, they live together. Lydia has gone from laughing about the dreadful advances of men in Whiterun with Anya to blocking a swing from a battleaxe while Anya shouts the wielder off a cliff.
She's gotten used to the slight warmth when they're sitting back-to-back in a tent that's far too small for them both, especially in a damn blizzard, but Anya won't buy a new one because she's far too stingy; despite running out of space in all her weapon lockers and armour chests and literally having sparkling gold and silver weapons littered all over the floor of their house. She's gotten used to being accosted in the street by orphans telling them both "You're the best!" and asking "Can you be my mother?", which is both flattering and tragic, because Lydia knows as well as Anya does that having basically two mothers is completely implausible, and that there's really no time for children when you're a full-time mercenary assassin thief dragonslayer vampire-hunter – and it's not like Anya can call in some kind of Daedric butler just to look after children. Lydia is used to somehow ending up backed into a corner by Thalmor and then there's just that smirk on Anya's face before Odahviing and Durnehviir swoop down and snap up six of the elves, leaving the others to scream "She's got dragons!", "By the Eight!", "What is this trickery?!" before they die in either Anya's dragon-fire-breath or at Lydia's blade. She's used to accidentally getting into a street brawl with fifteen of the Solitude Guard and seven Penitus Oculatus, winning, and being sent to Jarl Elisif where Anya just tips the Steward a wink as they're both let out scot-free. Lydia's stood and watched while Anya does her weird alchemy thing – which really only consists of eating whatever it is she's testing and working out whatever it does to her. Lydia especially hates Sabre Cat teeth, which, apparently, when ground up and eaten, make Anya very hyperactive and giggly, so much so that she has to lean on Lydia's shoulder and laugh breathlessly. Lydia's watched admiringly while Anya is pestered by children who ask "You can do magic, right? Do magic for us!" and then Anya sighs and makes blue and gold sparkles dance around herself or gives children a temporary confidence boost or a calming spell while secretly smiling all the time.
So they're not really just a Thane and a Housecarl, or even just good friends. They're something more than that; at each other's backs all the time, no matter what, through everything. It's a strange relationship, but Lydia'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it.
Though Lydia really does wish Anya'd stop managing to pull off stunningly elaborate assassinations and jewel heists without the guards even knowing till the week after; but somehow getting arrested every time she trips and accidentally stabs a chicken.