Lydia sighed from her side of the tent. Things had been tight with the gold lately, so they sold the second tent and decided to share the one. Her Thane, a Breton woman named Galleia, kept sighing and tossing. Galleia had been like this ever since her trip up to the Throat of the World. Lydia had thought that she must still be trying to process whatever had happened up there, but it had been two weeks now. Finally, Lydia gave up on trying to sleep and turned to face her Thane.
"Milady, would you please tell me what's bothering you so that we may both get some sleep?" Lydia would normally never question her, but after so many nights with little sleep she had to, if only so that she could finally rest in peace.
"Lydia... I'm not ever sure what's bothering me myself. I just..." The Dragonborn turned over to face her follower in the darkness of the tent, the worry and fatigue shining through in the dull light making it's way through the canvas. "I... I don't know how to say this but..." the Breton woman was silent once again, her completely white eyes closing as she rolled onto her back and sighed once again.
"Whatever it is, my Thane, you know I will keep your secrets." Lydia may not talk to her much, but she had followed long enough to know that the Dragonborn was a inherently good person... even if she did have a penchant for taking things that don't exactly belong to her. That, and the woman had a bit of a sadistic streak. Truthfully, Lydia only knew that because her Thane had told her, she'd been lucky enough to never see it in action. "Under pain of death I have sworn to do whatever it takes to keep you happy and alive. If I need to keep a few secrets for you, well... that may very well be the easiest part of my job right now."
Galleia laughed, letting her head fall to the side so she was once again looking her companion in the eyes. "I don't believe death will have any part of it, though I might strangle you for a little while if you told anyone." She sighed once again and looked back at the canvas roof above her. She could see the multi-colored aurorae dimly through the small amount of holes in the top, gained through heavy use and being drug through everything from fights with dragons to slogging through sewers. "I don't know what's wrong with me, my friend. I am the Dovahkiin, Dragonborn. I am meant to slay dragons and hold their souls. I use those souls to power my shouts. So why..." The Thane of Whiterun went silent, staring at the lights flickering in and out of sight above her before sitting up and heading for the exit of the tent.
"I'm going for a walk, Lydia. I'll try and work off this extra energy." As she was climbing out, however, she looked back at her follower and smiled. It was not a happy smile, though. It was a smile filled with confusion, doubt, and most of all, pain.
"Lydia... I don't know what's wrong with me, but I think I'm in love with a dragon." She said, and climbed out into the wilderness to roam under the northern lights of Skyrim, leaving a stunned Lydia to try and process what in the void just happened.