A/N:
Hello, and welcome to my first attempt at fan fiction! I've been writing for as long as I can remember, but after suffering from an incredibly long bout of writers block, I got inspired after countless hours of both playing this daffy little game, and reading some of the amazing fan fiction available here. So, I figured I'd give it a whirl. I'm rusty, so please be gentle
The idea for this story began when I added the Alternate Start mod to my game, and was trying to come up with a background for my character. All I knew at the time was that I wanted her to be a mainly non-combat based character who would always travel with a companion. I've long held a soft-spot in my heart for Belrand, and after finding a mod that also made him much more visually appealing, I decided to pair these two up and see where they go together.
For those that are interested in seeing how he looks in my mind as I write this, check out Belrand New Strength on the Nexus.
This is intended to be a prequel to the main storyline, which I hope to tackle after I finish hashing out this background story. Rating it M, because I do plan for there to be smut along the line.
Comments and suggestions are always welcome! I can't improve if I don't know where I'm lacking.
Hope you enjoy!
When Belrand walked into the Winking Skeever, he wasn't expecting to find someone sitting at his usual table.
"What gives, Sorex? Can't a man be a little late paying off his tab before you start renting out his personal space?" He glared half-heartedly at his friend, who was sweeping up a broken bottle of wine and blatantly smirking at him.
"You know my dad, Bel. When it comes to money, he's strung tighter than one of them lutists up at the Bards College. But it's not so bad, eh? At least it's something soft and pretty what stole your seat," he jested, causing Belrand's eyes to travel back over to the corner table.
He could see Sorex was right; she was very pretty. He ran an appraising eye over her pale blonde hair, which she had pulled back to reveal a delicately featured face. Her eyes looked unfathomably dark in the dim, flickering candlelight, giving him the distinct impression that while she appeared to be young, she would not comport herself as such. She also looked a bit flushed, and distinctly out of place.
"Do you know anything about her?" he asked, sensing the potential to make a little money. Work had been slow with the damned civil war ramping up. People were choosing to stay close to home, not having much use for the services of your run of the mill mercenary. He may have made good friends with the innkeeper's son, but friendship didn't pay for his room. He was going to have to pack it up for more profitable stomping grounds if things didn't pick up soon.
"Not a thing, mate," Sorex lamented. "Only that she got here just this afternoon, on a ship sailing over from High Rock. Beautiful accent, what little I've heard of it. She's just been sitting over there, quiet as you please, eating and nursing that bottle of mead. Don't think she's even rented a room yet."
"Is that so?" Belrand muttered, continuing to watch her. Sorex was right. She kept to herself, slowly picking at her food. Eventually, she got Sorex's attention and signaled for another bottle of mead. Belrand quirked an eyebrow. She didn't look the sort to be drinking alone. Very interesting.
"I can hear the gears grinding away in that lump you call a head. If you don't watch it, your hair might go up in flames," Sorex laughed. "How 'bout I let you take care of this one? You're gonna have to pay for these, mind you."
Belrand grabbed the two bottles being held out to him, and began to make his way towards the table. He called back quietly over his shoulder, just loud enough for his friend to hear, "You know, Sorex, I think that sounds like a wonderful idea. Tell your father to put it on my tab."
She thought she might be a little bit drunk. She thought on it for a few minutes more - after all, it's not like she had anything else to do - and decided she liked it. She raised her hand the way the nice barkeeper had shown her to order another drink.
She blinked a bit when a tall, well-built man with a thick head of long, auburn hair placed the mead in front of her. He flashed a broad grin at her, and she felt a funny little tickle in her belly. Oh, this is a handsome one, she thought to herself. There was something odd about his eyes, although the dim lighting was making it impossible to figure out exactly what it was.
"Compliments of the gentleman up at the bar, only the staff here is kind of lazy. I had to bring it myself," he winked, looking her up and down as he sat across from her. "I'm Belrand, spellsword for hire and your knight in shining armor. What's your name, dove?"
She cocked her head at him and raised a corner of her mouth in a small grin as she gave him a return once-over. "Amaryllis Geralt, but the last person to call me that who wasn't my Da got punched in the nose. And that armor doesn't look very shiny to me."
Belrand ran a hand down the front of his fur armor, laughing. "Nothing gets past you, does it girl? Fine then, I'll be your knight in furry but well-brushed armor instead. But it's hard to imagine someone named after such a pretty flower going around socking people in the face."
"Most people are happy enough to call me Riley, so I haven't had much occasion to bloody my knuckles," she returned. The truth was she didn't know that many people to call her much of anything. And her social circle had recently drawn in even tighter. She felt herself losing her smile, and let out a long sigh. Then she picked up the bottle of mead Belrand had brought her and chugged down half of it. Gods, this tastes so sweet, she winced as she let out a small burp.
"Well then, Riley it is. You know, I wouldn't drink that stuff so fast. It has a habit of sneaking up on a man, and you're a might bit tinier than most of them," he smiled at her. "You seem like you're having your fair share of troubles, are you sure you aren't in need of my most chivalrous, if a bit hairy, services?"
Riley decided she liked him. There was something about him that made him seem trustworthy, and she was greatly suffering from a lack of upstanding characters in her personal life. Hell, it was lacking characters altogether.
"Belrand, you said?" When he grinned and nodded, she continued, "I have to admit to not knowing anything about this freezing little country of yours, but what little I've managed to glean has left me certain that I came here woefully uninformed and ill prepared," she paused to hiccup, and realized her vision had gone a little fuzzy.
"Are you alright, dove? What are you needing to do?"
"I'm fine," she said. "The room just seems a bit crooked. Does it look crooked to you?"
Belrand shook his head.
"Well, nevermind the room. What I'm needing is this," she picked up her bottle of mead and took a deep pull off of it, causing Belrand to raise his eyebrows. She signaled to Sorex for another.
"What I need, hairy knight of mine, is to get to this cottage I've inherited from the proverbial long lost relative. I've been told it's just east of Falkreath. Only problem is, I have no bloody idea where that is. I'm not even sure I know which direction is east, to be completely honest with you. So, how much would it cost me hire your services as an escort?"
"Ah, for this most dangerous of missions I'd normally charge a fine fee of five hundred gold pieces. For you, however, I'll charge two hundred. But only because I like you."
Riley laughed, and finished the last of the mead in her bottle, raising her hand yet again, trying to get Sorex's attention. She was starting to think he was ignoring her on purpose.
"I appreciate the discount, Belrand, really I do. But even at such a bargain, I'm afraid I cannot afford your services. For I? I am a woman of meager possessions, and even more disturbing, meager mead. Did you know mead was so delicious? I had no idea. Sweet, though. Horribly sweet," she babbled, realizing that she wasn't making sense anymore. The bard started playing an upbeat tune, and Riley perked up considerably. "But you know what? That doesn't matter. Let's do something happy! I think we should dance!"
He looked like he was getting ready to protest, so she jumped up and grabbed his hands in hers. She noticed that they were rough and scarred, but they also seemed very strong and deft. Shooting a grin up at him, she wobbled a bit and dragged him to the middle of dining area. The bard smiled at them and started playing a gentle tune, glad to finally have people in the room interested in her songs.
Belrand still wasn't sure exactly how it had happened. One minute he'd been trying to drum up some business from the pretty little Breton - and yes, perhaps he was trying to flirt her up a bit - and the next she'd started babbling at him in the most charmingly drunk way. And now here they were, standing in the middle of the nearly deserted inn getting ready to dance.
Problem was, he'd never been a very coordinated dancer.
"Ah, Riley? I'm not very good at this."
"Are you serious?" She blinked up at him, laughter dancing around in those dark, pretty eyes of hers. He nodded, embarrassed, and she shrugged up at him.
"No matter, no matter. I'm willing to risk it if you are. Sometimes, you just have to take chances, you know?"
Then she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder. Gods but her hair smelled good. Like a mixture of wildflowers and sunshine. As she rocked him gently around in a circle, he worked hard to avoid trampling her feet.
"I really 'preciate it, you know?" Her voice was muffled and slurred from the combination of mead and pressing her face into his armor.
"Appreciate what, dove?"
"That you'd have given me a discount, even though I can't afford it. That means a lot to me, someone being nice. You're the first person I've really talked to since I got here," she paused as she said this, heaving another big sigh and a hiccup. Then she resumed their gentle swaying.
He felt himself pulling her in a little tighter, in a protective gesture. "Don't you know anyone here?"
"I don't," she admitted.
"You're a long way from where you started, to be in a place like this by yourself."
"I was supposed to come here with my Da, but that didn't happen..."
He heard her voice hitch on the last few words, and couldn't stop his hand from reaching up to run his fingers through the hair at her neck. It was just as soft as he'd expected it to be. She snuggled in a little closer to him at the touch, and then he felt her start to weave.
"Oh dear," she said. "When did the room start spinning? I don't think I feel so good."
He had worried this would happen when she'd started chugging her drink. Going around in circles probably wasn't helping. He sighed, and led her over to a chair where he helped her prop herself mostly upright. She smiled weakly at him, looking a little green in the face.
"Sorex," he called. "Did she ever get a room from you?"
"She didn't, mate. And believe it or not, we're all full up!"
Belrand didn't believe it. He shot his friend a dirty look, but Sorex just stood there grinning like an idiot. He didn't have time to argue the matter, though, as he felt Riley begin sliding off the chair. He gathered her up in his arms before she had a chance to collapse onto the floor. Riley wrapped her arms around his neck, and laid her head on his shoulder. She let out a contented sigh that sent warm breath brushing across his ear, making him break out in gooseflesh. He shook his head against the thought trying to work its way in.
Get a grip, man. She's completely sacked, and pretty helpless to boot. Even you aren't that big of a jackass.
He tightened his arms under her, and carried her up to the stairs to the room he rented. By the time he reached the bed she was snoring softly into his neck. He found himself smiling, despite the awkwardness of the situation. He laid her down and tucked the covers up around her, sitting next to the bed and watching her face for a moment. She was far too small and delicate to be wandering around Skyrim alone. It wasn't safe even at the best of times, but with the war going on she'd be risking her life, or worse.
He started to turn away to find some blankets to make a pallet on the floor for himself when her eyes fluttered open. They stared at each other for a moment, her dark eyes clouded by intoxication and exhaustion, and then she flopped her hand around until it landed on top of his. She gave him a weak smile.
"Mean it, Belrand. Really do 'preciate it. I think you're my only friend, now that Da has died," she whispered, and then promptly passed out.
Shit, he thought, gently pulling his hand out from under hers and rubbing it tiredly against his bearded chin. Now I really am going to have to take her home.
Somehow, that notion didn't bother him nearly as much as he thought it should.