A/N: Alrighty, welcome to my 30 day character development meme! I wanted to do one on Dal because, well, I love him lots :3 hope you enjoy it as much as I do!
So, I took each prompt and selected the questions I could do drabbles about. Each prompt that I'm answering will be written in italics before the story begins.
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Day 1: Piercings?
"Ow! Don't touch it!"
"Stop being a baby, Dalamus…"
"Folsi, I swear, if you touch my ear again I will have Alvani trample you." He didn't really mean it, no, but it hurt.
"No one told you to get two piercings at once, stupid," Folsi quipped, voice haughty. "Look, it's purple."
"Because you keep touching it!" he shrieked the words, falling backwards over the edge of the bench where he sat in an attempt to get away from her prodding fingers.
She just laughed, head tipped so far back that Dal thought she should've broken her neck. "Okay, okay, I won't touch it anymore, I promise. But don't expect me to share my earrings with you."
Dal snarled and threw the rag in his hand at his friend. "Get out of my house, girl."
"It's not your house!" but she just caught the strip of cloth and tossed it right back. "Stop throwing that around before it gets dirty."
The silverhead sighed and put the rag over the two gold hoops pierced into the point of his left ear.
~…~…~…~
Day 1: Scars?
If there was one thing Dalamus hated, it was animals.
He hissed lowly as Lydia gently cleaned the slash marks crossing his back. The wounds were shallow, thank the gods, but that didn't make it hurt any less.
"Apologies, my Thane," she murmured, though didn't stop the gentle strokes at his back. He'd long given up trying to get her to stop calling him that, but she was still the closest friend he had in Skyrim. She knew not to mind him as he seethed.
The Sabre Cat that had given him the wounds was lying somewhere southwest of Ivarstead, full of arrows and probably still bleeding everywhere. He was still partial to going back and turning it into a blanket.
"This is going to scar, you know," her voice cut into his thoughts again, and he noticed that she'd finished cleaning and now was coating the wound in a healing salve. Magic would've been easier, of course, but neither of them knew any healing spells so the slow approach was what they had to work with.
The dunmer arched his back slightly, the skin around the wound stretching in a way that almost felt good. "I'll be fine," he muttered, resisting the urge to just reach back and scratch like hell. "No use in coming out of this mess without any scars to show for it, eh?"
She chuckled, and the bed where they sat shifted as she leaned over to reach into her bag. "You worry about scars after you stop whining about these stitches."
"Stitches?" let nothing be said about how his voice cracked over the word.
She nodded, smirking a little. "It's not going to heal otherwise."
If there were two things Dalamus hated…
