Hello, fine readers of fantasy! This is a continuation of my first story: Ralos Ravenclaw-Dragonborn. If you have not read it, it was a fictionalized account of my playthrough of the main storyline of ESV:Skyrim. Ralos was an arrogant, skooma-addicted braggart who was equally matched by a take-no-shit housecarl named Lydia. They fought, saved each other many times and in many different ways, and by the end realized they were meant for each other. Here is what happened a few months later...

Chapter 1

"You're seriously going to eat that whole bushel of apples?"

Ralos Ravenclaw eyed the basket of fruit in his wife's lap almost as hungrily as he did her ample cleavage hovering over it. His gaze alternated between them and his horse's path on the road. It had been a long, boring carriage ride already from Rorikstead and his stomach was starting to growl like a cornered fox. He had gone as Thane of Whiterun to settle a dispute over the borders of neighboring apple orchards. After wasting the better part of a day listening to the inane squabbling of irate farmers, all he had to show for his efforts was a sore ass and a trail of apple cores, none of which he had created.

Lydia grinned and tossed another decimated apple over her shoulder. "The farmer said they were for me as I was the only one with any real sense. You would all still be arguing if I hadn't stepped in."

"You just distracted them with your tunic open like that."

"It's hot."

"They would have agreed with anything you said as long as you were willing to waggle those in front of them."

Lydia grinned knowingly. "Still can't resist them, can you?" She wedged an apple between her breasts. "You want one? Come and get it."

Ralos growled, but not from hunger. He checked the road in front of him. The horse should be able to maintain a straight line for a while. "You don't have to tell me twice, woman." He tied off the reins and dove head first into his wife's bouncing chest, making only a fair attempt at the red apple.

"Oh, my," Lydia said, "I'm getting wet."

Ralos glanced up at her face, "Really? And I've only just begun."

Lydia smacked him on the top of his head, "No, pig, I mean it's starting to rain."

Ralos reluctantly pulled away from her and felt the rain pelting him in the face.

"Well," Lydia said, "Do something, Dragonborn. My good mood is fading with the sun."

"Oh, that's right. We can't let that happen now can we?" Ralos sat back and cupped his hands around his mouth. "LOK VAH KOOR!"

The Clear Skies shout took only a few moments to take effect. The rain stopped and the clouds disappeared. Sunlight once again bathed the land around them. Ralos smiled.

"Your wish is my command, Mrs. Dovahkiin."

"Save the lies, Ralos. I'm sure you could find something more useful to do with your tongue."

Ralos leaned towards her again but instead ended up falling forward and out of the carriage as it came to an abrupt halt. He turned his fall into a roll but he still ended up sitting in the dusty road. "What the Hells?"

"Was that you that done stopped the rain with your shouting?"

Ralos peeked around his horse to see who had talked. A wiry, sunburnt farmer was there holding onto his horse's reins. Ralos picked himself up. "Why, yes, citizen. No need to thank me. Just doing my job as Dragonborn and Thane of Whiterun."

"What the Hells are you talking about, you blithering idiot?" the farmer yelled back. "I've been waiting for that rain all week! Look at the ground. It's drier than a hagraven's crow's nest."

"Gross," Lydia said.

Ralos tried not to laugh by clearing his throat. "I'm sorry. My wife wanted it to stop raining..."

"That's right," Lydia said, "blame me."

"But, not to worry, citizen. I am the Dragonborn. There is no problem I can not, eh, well, un-fix. Stand back. STRUN BAH QO!"

As the shout reverberated across the fields, the sky began to darken. The farmer looked around, astonished.

"One rain storm, as requested," Ralos said, climbing back into the carriage. Lydia dumped the remaining apples into the back of the carriage and placed the bushel over her head.

The farmer looked pleased as the rain began to fall. Suddenly a bolt of lightning struck the ground near the farmer's barn. "What the Hells is going on?" Another bolt struck, this one lighting up a nearby cow who mooed pathetically, then fell over, smoking. "Bessy!"

"Oops," Ralos muttered, "Time to go. Hiya! Hiya!"

His horse quickly picked up its pace as the farmer chased after the carriage.
"Come back here and stop this mess, you damn, big-mouthed, ill-bred hooligan! You owe me a cow! You won't get away with..."

Another bolt of lightning struck. Ralos chose not to look back to see if it was the reason for the farmer's sudden silence. Lydia shook her head beneath the damp bushel.

"What?" Ralos said, "Maybe next time you'll just give me an apple. Women."