A Simple Thing

By: Ryu Niiyama

Disclaimer: Not mine and I'm really broke anyway.

The courier dashes off into the milling crowd and Lydia reads the short, succinct notice three times before tucking it into her belt pouch.

She is coming home.

The thought buoys Lydia of Whiterun and she steadfastly ignores reality. She conveniently forgets that her Thane would only stay in Whiterun long enough to pick up supplies and prepare to travel to Falkreath Hold. She ignores that she had so shamed herself as a housecarl that her Thane had quietly cast her aside.

It has been months since she last saw her Thane, and even then it was from the battlefield as she watched the manmeri rush to the heart of the Stormcloak assault on Whiterun. Her Thane's body was shrouded in gleaming quicksilver and steel as she dealt swift and certain death to Ulfric the Kingkiller's army. Even while raining down arrows in support, Lydia couldn't contain the thrill that skittered down her spine every time her Thane used her Thu'um to waylay the usurper army. Shouts that spewed fire and ice, words that called down lighting and conjured phantoms as the Stormcloak's screams of terror and death filled the air. She had to fight to focus as fear and concern clogged her throat, watching her Thane cleave Stormcloaks in half with her great elven ebony blade and wading further into the fray. The dragonborn only drew her ebony scimitar and shield when the Stormcloaks began raining down arrows; willing to skewer their own in the hopes of killing the heroine that was thinning their numbers. Lydia had never shot with such speed and accuracy in her life; each shot a desperate attempt to give her Thane breathing room and to further her advantage.

In a gleaming helmet that hid her face, with a flowing crimson cape emblazoned with the Imperial Dragon, her Thane decimated her foes. She stood tall as a walking, killing symbol of the Empire judging the Stormcloaks and finding them lacking with the power of the Thu'um. If Nadira had been a Nord, she would have thought the woman to be a Hero in disguise descended from Soverngarde. If the housecarl was honest with herself, she truly thought that despite her Thane's Altmer and Redguard blood. Hours later when the battle had been won, Lydia only caught the barest glimpse of blood-soaked yet still shining armor as Legate Rikke and other soldiers clasped their heroine on the back and cheered her might in battle.

She had not gotten the chance to congratulate or attend to her Thane. The manmeri had assisted with some of the cleanup effort along with a contingent of Imperial soldiers, yet she slept in Jorvaskarr, celebrating with her fellow Companions. Lydia knew that her Thane left the very next morning because she stayed up all night praying to Talos in her heart that the Hero of Whiterun would return to Breezehome. When she heard from her window in the predawn light that the dragonborn had left Whiterun, Lydia had cried bitter tears before falling into a fitful, dreamless sleep.

This, she knows is her last chance. Her last chance to prove that she is not full of hate like Ufric and his ilk; her last chance to prove that she serves because she wants to…needs to serve the woman that so thoroughly altered her views of the world. This is her last chance to show Nadira Gaeorin of Chorrol that she is a woman of honor and that her life belongs Nadira and Nadira alone.

If only the dragonborn will give her a second chance; she will lay down her life to keep her and all that she holds dear safe. With sword and shield ever at the ready to destroy her foes, she would serve her Thane until the end of her days. If Talos would show her mercy, her Thane would never know a more loyal housecarl as long as she drew breath. Not even Rayya would compare.

Lydia completes her morning training, for once electing to not train herself into an exhausted stupor so that she could complete the rest of her chores as quickly as possible. Based upon her Thane's letter, she would be in Whiterun by nightfall. The proof of her remorse would be shown tonight; she would attend to her Thane properly and prove her worth.

Lydia kept Breezehome spotless, yet the raven haired housecarl obsessively cleaned every inch of the modest house in preparation for her Thane's arrival. Fresh wood was chopped and she picked up foodstuffs from the market so that she could prepare a proper meal for her thane. The housecarl hunted the doe she would use for the venison stew herself and bartered for fresh milk and crushed Ice Wraith teeth from Farengar. She baked the bread and the apple dumplings herself, hoping the sweet treats were still a favorite of the quiet-spoken manmeri whom she was bound to. She polished her customary steel armor until it gleamed and swept the floors three times in nervous agitation. All would be perfect for her Thane's return…it had to be.

With shaky steps, the housecarl ascended to her bedroom opened the heavy chest at the foot of her bed. Carefully, reverently she removed the gleaming ebony and dragonbone armor and placed it upon her bed. She had never worn the armor and yet she knew without a doubt that not only would it fit her perfectly, but it would be the most magnificent armor she had ever worn. She knew this because of the symbol that graced the underside of pauldrons; small and only found with a bare hand. The symbol was a combination of the crest of the Hero of Kvatch and House of Baurus; the linage Nadira Gaeorin of Chorrol had descended from. The housecarl closed her eyes and brushed her fingers over that symbol now, her heart breaking all over again.

"You've made it abundantly clear that you have no desire to be my housecarl, Lydia of Whiterun and I have foolishly tried to redeem whatever slight I've committed against you to no avail. Yet I will not allow you in your disdain for me to be so reckless as to endanger others! Your arrogance almost got those merchants killed! You wish to be free of me? So be it! Return to Whiterun. Breezehome is yours to do with as you please. I shall only visit there when in Whiterun so that the Jarl does not find out that I've dismissed you from my service." Nadira strode to her horse and pulled out her pack. Quickly, the manmeri removed her purse and took out five thousand septims and wrote a letter of credit. "Here. If you manage to spend all of this give this letter of credit to your debtors. I will pay them on your behalf. Now go."

The Nord refused at first, not out of loyalty but instead out of indignation that she was being dismissed by a halfbreed elf. Yet as she tried to stare down her furious Thane she watched a change come over her unlike anything she had ever seen. The woman merely stood to her full height but it was as if her presence grew as well. The kindness of her body language vanished and Lydia felt as if she were facing down a dragon alone. A light hum began to rumble from the manmeri and it took a moment for Lydia to realize it was a growl, not much different save in pitch from the one she could emit as a wolf. Yet this low sound carried the Thu'um and Lydia could feel the land respond to it. The clouds began to darken and the very earth began to tremble. She could hear the horses far behind them beginning to shuffle nervously, confused by the change in atmosphere. There was a killing intent, darker and more focused than anything Lydia had ever experienced in battle coming from this mixed blood and the housecarl felt her own warrior's blood run cold as ice. It only took a moment, but Lydia flinched and her knees buckled, forcing her to the ground. In an instant the sky began to clear and the ominous sound ceased as the dragonborn turned away. Gaping like a beached horker, the Nord scrambled shakily to her feet in an attempt to save face.

At first Lydia had been too angry, too arrogant and she'd stomped away from her disgusted Thane and mounted her horse and headed back to Whiterun. Yet the journey from Shor's Stone to Whiterun gave Lydia time to think, time to reflect. Nadira had always been kind if not somewhat quiet and she always split what she had and made sure that Lydia's supplies were as well stocked as her own. The manmeri never let her armor become worn and after the first time Lydia expressed disgust at having a filthy manmeri repair her armor the dragonborn quietly paid the local smith to conduct any required repairs. Even though she was not only a master smith, she descended from ebony and quicksilver smiths on each sides of heritage.

Lydia never slept in a stable or on the floor, always having her own inn room whenever they visited a town; fates that were common for many housecarls that served unworthy, uncaring masters. Masters that didn't value a life lain down for their own. Her Thane had never once treated her like a servant, so much so that in those early days many mistook Lydia for the master and the tall manmeri who always kept her face covered for the servant. As she and her horse plodded every further away from her true purpose she remembered actions and words that illuminated her thane's cleverness and wit, her kind and honorable heart…things that Lydia herself had spat upon because the dragonborn had not been born a Nord. By the time she had reached Whiterun the housecarl had been miserable, yet her pride prevented her from seeking her Thane out and begging for forgiveness. Two weeks after her return to Whiterun a knock at her door brought even her formidable pride to its knees.

Rayya of Falkreath, her Thane's first housecarl and the guardian of the manor she called home, stood in the entrance of Breezehome with disdain in her eyes. Common ancestry and loss had made Rayya and Nadira like sisters and even though the Skryim born Redguard did not share her journeys, she was fiercely protective of her Thane. Protective in a way that Lydia should have been, but because her Thane's skin was not pale nor her ears as round as her kinsmen she had not been. "You are wholly unworthy of this but Ansei Nadira finished this weeks ago. She had intended to give it to you after you both returned from Shor's Stone." Rayya had said nothing more, merely glaring until Lydia took the heavy package. Task complete, the Skyrim born Redguard left without another word.

Lydia opened the package and fell backwards to the floor with shock. Within lay the finest armor she had ever seen; a perfect merger of ebony, quicksilver and dragonbone. Knowing Lydia's disdain for helms, a hood of ebony and quicksilver link lay on top of an enchanted dragonbone and ebony shield. The finest piece within the gift had been the blade. Like the armor and shield, it was a merger of dragonbone and ebony, yet despite the bone that made up the majority of its composition, the blade was perfectly balanced. Lydia had treated her Thane like she didn't deserve to breathe and in return Nadira had honored her as a warrior and gifted her weapons and armor worth a High King's ransom. That night Lydia prayed to Talos; she begged him to forgive her dishonor of herself and her Thane and she swore her life to her anew.

Yet it had been harder than she thought it would be to keep her promise to Talos. The dragonborn was true to her word and when her travels brought her to Whiterun, she mostly communed with the Companions. The manmeri's self imposed exile allowed her to swiftly move up the ranks within the honored guild and it was said she had been made a member of the Circle. Lydia grit her teeth at the thought or rather at one member of the Circle in particular: Aela the Huntress.

Lydia and Aela had been rivals growing up and much of that rivalry bled into their adult years. Aela thought that as the niece of the Jarl, Lydia's position as housecarl was given to her rather than earned. Lydia had always thought that Aela was an arrogant bitch…a thought confirmed when she caught a young and reckless Aela transforming when hunting by moonlight once. Lydia kept the werewolf's secret but the knowledge of it only worsened their rivalry. Now she stands too close to Nadira and spends too much time walking through the streets of the Plains District bragging about her hunts in an obvious attempt to impress her Thane. If the huntress always drew her Thane to the mead hall of the Companions Lydia would never get her chance to atone. Yet she could not, would not allow anyone, not even Aela to waylay her plans. Not when she owed her Thane so much, not when she could still honor her position and right as housecarl. Lydia closed her slate grey eyes and offered a brief prayer to Talos before she strapped the dragonbone sword to her hip. The blade was the only thing from her Thane that she allowed herself to use regularly, believing the blade and its matching shield should become an extension of herself; so that if and when she was called to serve she would be able to do so effortlessly.

Tonight she hoped that it would act as a symbol of her devotion and an acceptance and acknowledgement of her Thane's generous gift. She hoped that it would serve as her entreaty to begin anew. With a resolute nod, Lydia began preparing her Thane's meal, the repetitive motions of chopping the vegetables soothing her frayed nerves. The housecarl flitted about the kitchen like a hummingbird, determined to present a feast worthy of the halls of Dragonsreach. Satisfied that everything was suitably prepared, Lydia perused the bookshelves of her Thane's study and chose a copy of Sword-Wisdom of Saikhalar to read. She had taken to reading as much as she could about both Redguard and Altmer histories, to help her understand the woman she was pledged to serve.

Pleased with her choice, the housecarl settled into a chair in front of the hearth and began to read, awaiting her Thane's return. At the first scrape of the key in the lock, Lydia sprang to her feet, almost knocking her now forgotten book into the fire. Nervously, she straightened her hair and stood to her full height. The door swung open smoothly and an armored and cloaked figure stepped into the foyer. Lydia paused for a moment assessing the newcomer. The horned, veiled helm of dragonbone and ebony left only weary hazel eyes in plain view and for a moment the two warriors stared at each other before Lydia moved forward.

"Welcome home, Thane." Lydia greeted softly even as she reached out to remove her Thane's helmet. She tried not to flinch as her Thane smoothly turned and began undoing her chin straps, the move so casually done that it almost obscured the rejection it was intended to be. Lydia would not be deterred however, and she moved to grasp her Thane's pack as the manmeri placed her helmet upon the nearby corner table.

"I have it Lydia, thank you." Lydia nodded sullenly and moved to close the still ajar door, pausing as she noticed a cloaked figure moving from Breezehome towards the town gates. The figure was obviously female, but there was something ominous and disconcerting about her. It bothered Lydia to know that her Thane traveled with another, even though that meant someone would watch over the manmeri in her place. The woman was obviously not a housecarl and the thought that had so shamed herself that mercenaries were a more welcome companion than a sworn protector sat heavy in her heart.

Lydia shook her head to clear her thoughts. It didn't matter who the hooded woman was, Lydia would reclaim her rightful place. Closing and locking the door behind her she moved to follow her Thane, who was now trudging up the stairs to her room. Lydia moved quickly to prevent the dragonborn from having the chance to close the door in her face, yet she kept her face neutral and her movements even to disguise her rushed ploy.

Nadira moved to the mannequin in the corner of her bedroom and placed her helm upon it. Sighing softly, she pulled the ebonymail hood back and tugged the cloth mask that hid her face from the world when her helm was removed. Lydia had once scoffed at her Thane's tendency to keep her face hidden; deeming her untrustworthy or hideous and utterly unlike the shining Nord heroine she should have been. Lydia flushes with shame at her thoughts before stepping further into the room. The dragonborn turns just as the housecarl reaches for the straps of her chestplate and the two almost bump noses.

Lydia flushes hotly, but maintains eye contact with her Thane. The manmeri woman is two inches taller than her six foot frame but Lydia will not balk under her Thane's scrutiny. Talos above, How could she have ever thought this woman to be anything but beautiful? Moving carefully, Lydia reaches once again for the side straps, holding her Thane's gaze. This woman has shouted down mountains and has made gods bend to her will but in this, Lydia will not be denied. They continue their stalemate for several minutes before Nadira's natural humor cracks her stony glare and she rolls eyes the color of burnished amber. Sighing sweet breath softly, the manmeri raises her arms to allow Lydia better access.

Nodding in acknowledgement of her Thane's consent, Lydia swiftly and carefully removes the exquisite yet heavy armor. Nadira begins to hum absently as she works and Lydia flushes again at the dulcet tones. Nadira didn't speak much when traveling, yet instead she filled the air with song. Sheepishly her Thane once explained that it was part of her Redguard heritage. As a seafaring and often nomadic people, Redguards often sang to pass the time. Even those bound to land seemed to inherit the love of song. Lydia swiftly moved the heavy armor to the mannequin, leaving the manmeri clad in her tunic and leggings. Brushing her fingers along the inside of the armor, the Nord was shocked to not find a bear pelt lining. Neither sides of her heritage left the manmeri equipped to deal with the sometimes bitter cold of the Skyrim climate and she wondered briefly if her Thane's travels had been in more temperate areas recently. By the time Lydia was handing her Thane a lighter pair of boots, she was humming counterpoint to her Thane. Their fingers brushed as her Thane took the offered footwear and it was all Lydia could do to stay in tune.

Nadira abruptly trailed off her song and moved to sit on the bed to step into the boots. Undeterred by the abrupt loss of her singing partner, Lydia maintained her humming, knowing how this particular melody soothed her Thane. It did not matter how many times her Thane retreated; Lydia would follow her diligently until she reclaimed her rightful place. Smoothly, Lydia knelt down and assisted her Thane, marveling at feet that were quite delicate despite their size. It seemed strange that she had once seen the manmeri kick a man off a fort parapet with such dainty feet. Sighing softly Nadira shook out her raven mane and reached beneath her tunic to remove the amulet that normally hung between her breasts. Lydia finished with the second boot and stood just as the amulet was brought into view.

It took everything that the housecarl had to keep her face calm and devoid of the unexpected yet rolling rage that consumed her at the sight. Her Thane was not wearing her customary amulet of Talos that had been gifted to her from the Greybeards. Instead it was an amulet of Mara that hung around her neck. Nadira was an outsider and likely wore the amulet for the enchantment it bore…yet what if she didn't? What if she was wearing it for someone? Just who in Talos' name was that hooded woman? Yet Lydia didn't have the right to ask…didn't have the right to challenge anything. Yet, the thought that she was so far on the outskirts of the woman whose life she was pledged to protect called forth such fury, that for a moment she felt as if she could spew fire like the woman before her.

Lydia watched with feigned calm as her Thane placed the amulet in the nearby strong box, before reaching into her tunic for her customary one. "Thane, let me." The Nord moved forward, and gently grasped the amulet before Nadira could protest and she moved behind her to lift her hair and return the sacred necklace to its rightful place. Lydia bit the inside of her cheek as she caught the scent of her Thane's hair and skin. Nadira was very particular about cleanliness and bathed more than any warrior or woman Lydia had ever met. She smelled of sandalwood and roses, while her hair smelled of honeysuckle and lavender. The combined scents along with the oily, sooty, metallic tang common to a person that worked both in a forge and often wore heavy armor soothed Lydia's fraying nerves. She smirked as she smelled the scent of a clean puppy as well. Lydia was well aware of her Thane's werewolf blood, but she didn't smell strongly of wet dog the way the wolf twins did. Even Aela's scent was stronger. She wondered if it had something to do with the control Nadira had over her wolf form. The few times she had seen her Thane take to the wolf she had been brutal yet calculating in battle yet playful and mischievous outside of it…not much different from her manmeri form.

Nadira stiffened and moved away, mumbling out her thanks, causing Lydia to frown. Her Thane was not verbose but she was never nervous around others. It was another thing for the housecarl to atone for then. "Come, Thane. I've prepared a meal for you. Surely you must be famished after such long travels?" Nadira chuckled softly at the somewhat brash request, the words polite yet unapologetic and straightforward.

Much like Lydia herself.

"Very well, Serana was in a hurry to get here and we have been marching for ten hours straight. Just let me head to the Bannered Mare to get a tankard of milk." Lydia placed a hand upon her Thane's shoulder to prevent her from moving away. "Already done Thane, Farengar sold me some ice wraith teeth so you will find your milk chilled as you like it."

The manmeri hummed in approval softly and Lydia blinked as the sound skittered pleasantly down her spine. She led the way for her Thane and waited until the other woman took her seat before she seated herself. Lydia's father had often spoke of the merits of food and the bonds it could bring; and after seeing her Thane's face light up after she ate her first spoonful of stew she had to agree. The tension between them was gone as Lydia filled the silence with updates on life in Whiterun. She spoke like a warrior, unable to weave grand tales, yet she had been able to wrangle a laugh or two out of her Thane much to her own delight.

As she listened to the dragonborn laugh, full-bodied and free, she knew that she would do anything to protect the joy of a woman that had the weight of the world thrust upon her shoulders. All too soon dinner was done and the dishes cleared away and all Lydia could feel was nervousness. Would her Thane leave in the morning...would she be left behind once more? One pleasant evening wasn't enough to win back her Thane's trust she knew. Yet surely it was enough to show that she cared? That in time she could be worthy of trust once again? Would she have to watch her Thane walk away from her into the protectorate of this "Serana" character?

"Lydia, thank you for dinner. It was delicious. I have to meet with Adrianne over a trade agreement but I should be up in time to see if you have put that blade to good use." Lydia barked out a laugh as she watched her Thane climb the stairs to her room, the casual statement buoying her heart. It would seem small to anyone else but Lydia of Whiterun knew firsthand what it was to lose the trust of the retreating woman. Trust was such a simple thing, when given it could be the motivation that turned the tide of a battle yet when broken it was so difficult to mend and its scars never faded. Still, she would take joy in small victories won and press ever forward.

The next morning found Lydia staggering backwards as she absorbed another blow from her Thane's greatsword. The dragonbone shield held mightily, but that didn't stop the painful shock that reverberated down her arm. 'How can she move so quickly and maintain this level of power in every strike?' The raven haired housecarl was beginning to wonder if her Thane also descended from Orismer blood when another blow drove her to one knee. Unwilling to be out done, Lydia thrust her shield out and up before pivoting on her grounded knee to sweep her Thane. The manmeri leapt backwards in time, but the nearly simultaneous attack left her unbalanced as she landed.

With a war cry loud enough to rival her Thane's thu'um Lydia surged forward, rushing her unbalanced opponent. The housecarl brought her sword down and her Thane quickly brought her greatsword pommel upwards so that her arms deflected and opened the arc of the attack. Lydia yelped as her Thane swung the sword upward even as she brought a booted foot to the Housecarl's raised shield. The sudden weight of her Thane kicking off from her shield drove Lydia to the ground even as the tip of the greatsword narrowly missed her face and sent her blade flying.

Gasping wildly Lydia could only stare as the taller woman returned the thin, powerful blade to its sheath and moved to retrieve the fallen Dragonbone blade. 'Incredible. If this had been a real fight she could have sliced my arm clean from my shoulder.' The housecarl moved and flexed her fingers to make sure she had endured no lasting damage from disarming block and was pleased to note that the appendage felt fine. She looked up as her Thane returned to her and held out a hand in assistance. Lydia grasped the dragonborn's forearm in a warrior's greeting and she didn't fail to notice the way her Thane's eyes widened at the gesture as she was hauled to her feet. She did try her best to ignore the powerful bunch and flex of her Thane's muscles. If only to tame the blush she could feel creeping up her neck. Years of sword training and smithy work along with her mixed blood had left Nadira with a physique that was strapping yet quick and for one moment Lydia felt a little lightheaded from the easy display of strength.

"Good match, Thane. Although I think I at least made you a little nervous."

The dragonborn's eyes danced in amusement and a silken bark of laughter filled the air as Nadia tightened her grip in agreement. "That you did. But you made the mistake of assuming that a greatsword means I can't fight close range. It is harder and poses more risk to me, yet at the same time almost every attack I can make at that range is fatal due to the size and heft of my blade." Lydia hummed in agreement thinking about how that final kick was the only thing that saved her life and she smiled widely in awe of the soft-spoken manmeri's skill. Despite her words, Lydia was certain she had never met a warrior that handled a large blade with such an easy blend of strength and dexterity and she wondered briefly who taught her Thane such form. Accepting her blade back and allowing the taller woman to step away, Lydia inspected her blade which showed no worse for wear before sheathing it smoothly. The dragonborn moved to grab two nearby water-skins and handed one to the Nord, who guzzled from it greedily. Lydia hummed softly in consternation as her Thane merely dotted her brow with the cool liquid, deigning to keep her mask firmly in place.

"Are you heading out to attend to business now, Thane?" Though Nadira was not obligated to answer, Lydia was pleased when she nodded in agreement. The raven haired Nord bowed to her Thane in honor of her station and in thanks for the morning training and she swallowed a smile as she noticed that once again she had taken the other woman by surprise. "Safe journey to you, Thane. I shall await your return." Nodding somewhat awkwardly, no doubt thrown by what to her would seem to be a complete change in her housecarl's demeanor, the Dragonborn headed to Warmaiden's. Lydia smiled at her Thane's reaction as she turned away, pleased that she was making strides in altering the dragonborn's view of her.

So two weeks passed if not comfortably then amicably between them. Every morning they sparred and though Lydia consistently lost, she took pride in knowing that she at least presented a much needed challenge to her Thane. During the day, the dragonborn attended to her duties to the Companions or completed some request of the Jarl's or of some member of the community. As Lydia walked through the city, attending to her own duties she noticed that the greetings and well wishes from the townsfolk now often included complements to her Thane. She tried to be gracious, but she couldn't help the surge of pride as others spoke of her Thane's kindness and skill or of her cleverness and good humor. Although her Thane had already hard won the admiration of the people of Whiterun hold, few had mentioned the dragonborn directly to her previously.

Realizing that the steady routine between them had presented an image of solidarity, and even if there were those that would deride Nadira for her blood, there were more that would deride Lydia for her lack of loyalty. Acknowledging the dichotomy of her own people made her heart sink in dismay...no wonder Nadira had put her aside so thoroughly. Such duplicitous behavior was beneath a woman that held truth and loyalty in such high regard. At night they often read in silence or her Thane had begun to speak of some of her adventures as they ate dinner. She still didn't speak much of this "Serana", but Lydia was certain that the mysterious woman was the one whom the dragonborn had purchased Mara's token for. Lydia tried not to think about how unsettled the thought of her Thane courting a woman made her feel.

Still, Lydia knew that all good things must come to an end and she couldn't fight the despair that clutched her heart as her Thane announced that she would be departing in the morning. "I will need to head back to Falkreath to broker trade for more lumber. I want to add to the manor. I also have business to attend to in Markath. I've gotten a few leads on Alduin's next attack." Lydia nodded sullenly, knowing that her Thane could be gone for several months with another guarding her life. This was her last chance. If she let her Thane walk away from her now, nothing would change. She was not a revered sister like Rayya, she did not hold her Thane's heart like Serana, but she would not be left behind again…she couldn't bear it. "Please Thane…allow me to travel with you. You should not travel the road alone." She staunchly ignored that her Thane wasn't alone when she traveled; needing any opening she could find to present her entreaty.

One of Nadira's thick eyebrows arched in a way that was distinctly Altmeri, but Lydia would not be cowed under the piercing, assessing gaze. Finally after several long moments the dragonborn shrugged and let out a soft chuckle. "Very well. However make no mistake Lydia…if you cannot follow then I have no use for you." The stark reminder of her failure made the Nord flush in shame, but she would not break her Thane's gaze. "I am your sword and your shield my Thane."

"We leave at dawn." Lydia waited until she heard her Thane's bedroom door click closed before she let the tears flow freely down her face. She would not squander this chance…she bet her life upon it.

The next morning Lydia adjusted her armor, almost purring at the fit, despite the fact that the armor had been crafted several months ago. Truly, Zenithar himself granted her Thane her skill at the forge. She wondered briefly if the world had been kinder would Nadira have spent her days as a forgemistress rather than a wandering heroine. Then again if she had followed her family's craft Lydia likely never would have met the manmeri. Lydia was selfish enough to know that now she would have been poorer in spirit had she not met her reluctant Thane. Slate grey eyes passed over her Thane's armored form and she frowned as she watched the taller woman cover her face with her mask once more.

"Thane, why do you cover your face? There is no Redguard custom that requires it to my knowledge." Lydia knew she was likely overstepping her bounds, but she wanted her Thane to know that she saw her, truly saw her and took an interest in her culture. Nadira chuckled and pulled the mask back down, turning to face her housecarl fully. Lydia bit her tongue to control the gasp that threatened to escape as her Thane's eyes met her own. How had she been able to ignore and disdain such beauty before? Surely hatred is the greatest of madness if it can warp one's perceptions so thoroughly.

"Lydia, I'll answer your question with one of my own: what do you see when you look at me?"

Lydia flushed hotly, wondering if her assessment of her Thane's beauty had been so easily noticed and she spent several moments gaping like a fish before summoning her wits. "I see a woman, Thane. Kind, and thoughtful and noble and strong…and beautiful." It was Nadira's turn to blush, her dusky golden skin doing nothing to hide her reaction. "Auri-El, you have changed." Lydia frowned softly at the whispered response but held her Thane's gaze easily. With a sigh, the dragonborn adjusted the abandoned mask now hanging below her chin and Lydia relaxed, recognizing the movement for the nervous gesture that it was.

"Thank you, Lydia but honestly, when you look at me what do you see? What did you see when you first met me?"

Lydia wanted to turn away in shame but she was a warrior and would not let cowardice dictate her actions… anymore. "I…I don't understand…" Nadira's expression shifted to one of pity and yet there was a defiant fire in her eyes as well. How does one explain hatred and prejudice to one that had once been mired so deeply in it? Those that hate become defensive and grasp ever tightly to their delusion…sometimes violently so, that it was likely easier to explain color to a person that had been born blind. Yet hatred was so much more than petty words and thoughts; it was backed with action… cruel and often sanctioned action. As a Nord Lydia knew she couldn't truly comprehend…how could she when not even a year ago she would have echoed the same words of hatred mindlessly with her kinsmen? Yet she wanted to…she desperately wanted to understand, to amend and start over…yet a part of her felt unworthy of the effort. Nadira sighed softly, breaking the self-castigating decent into madness that Lydia was working herself into.

"Lydia, the entire reason we went our separate ways was because I wasn't Nord enough to be dragonborn in your eyes. You saw a filthy Mer and Altmeri no less taking the mantel of one of the most celebrated and revered Nord heroes. You knew nothing about me except what I looked like and that was enough for your revulsion." Nadira didn't say the words cruelly; in fact her tone was as calm as ever yet Lydia couldn't bank the tears that the eviscerating words caused. She was disgusted at her own weakness…after all her Thane spoke the truth. How could she be the one to cry when she was the one that had shamed herself and hurt her Thane? Nadira's eyebrows twitched together in concern, yet she continued on, never breaking eye contact. "And that is just what you…a relatively nonviolent Nord thought of me. What do you think happens when I meet violent Nords? And do you think that hatred is only sated with words or blood?"

Lydia paled and then grew sick with anger. "What? Someone…someone…You …how?" The fury that was beginning to clog her throat abated slightly as her Thane raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I CAN defend myself, but yes I have met more than a few men that felt that my being of Mer blood meant that I could be used to vent their…frustrations." The dragonborn then gave a rather feral smile, telling Lydia easily what had happened to her would-be attackers. Still the knowledge that they died, likely very painfully did little to abate her fury. How could the world be so deranged? Had she truly once had views similar to those monsters?

"Even…even in Cyrodiil?"

Nadira's full lips pressed into a grim line as she shook her head gently. Lydia was beginning to feel once again like her world was being turned upon its ear and she had to struggle to gain equilibrium. Only this time instead of gaining a new understanding of her Thane, she was gaining a new understanding of humans…and she didn't like what she was seeing.

"No place is ever free of hatred Lydia, only fools think that. You think that being countrymen is enough to stop Imperials from spitting on Orsimer or assuming that Dunmer are whores and thieves? Do you think that means that Kahjit and Argonians won't have their businesses vandalized or dead cats and lizards thrown at their homes? Do you think that Redguards don't have to fear for their safety when a group of Imperials or Nords walk up to them at night? Of course most of them will tell you it's the other way around when it is not." Nadira shrugged with ennui of a person that understood the way of the world and knew that it would never truly change. It broke Lydia's heart that the other woman could be so matter of fact about such a terrible plight.

"No, Cyrodiil has its own issues, although different from here. Back home I masked my face because there is not an Altmer nor a Redguard on Nirn that can't tell that I am of mixed blood. Most Altmer look at me like I am some piece of trash, or worse that my conception was not one that was consented. For Redguards that is usually the first thought. So instead they hate me for "passing" even though I only look purely Altmer to humans. Rayya is the first outside my family to not look at me that way. Even Bretons can tell the difference…although they hate me for a different reason. After all my parents courted and were wed properly. My father gave his life to keep my mother and myself safe and in turn my mother gave her life to protect me. So I mask my face so that I am judged by my actions…not my appearance. Better to be judged merely for being a citizen of Cyrodiil than for being a manmeri Cyrodiilian. I feel no shame for who and what I am Lydia, nor will I be made to by those that steep themselves in hatred. Still, hearing the same comments, having to prove myself over and over again when others less capable are granted instant acceptance is exhausting. So I mask my face to give myself a little peace in a world that would deny it to me."

The dragonborn hummed softly as she reached for a handkerchief and dried her housecarl's tears. Lydia did not wish to appear so weak, but there was nothing else she could offer her Thane than her remorse. She could not change the world, though she was sorely tempted to put any and all who had ever wronged her Thane to the sword. Her hands twitched with the need to hold her Thane to offer comfort, but what could she a Nord, just as guilty of bigotry offer the gentle manmeri before her? In that moment as her Thane shushed and cooed at her to dry her eyes Lydia renewed her vow to Talos once again. She would be her Thane's save haven, her harbor in a land filled with strangers.

Nodding in gratitude to her Thane's concern, Lydia bore silent witness as the dragonborn replaced her mask and settled the great veiled helm upon her head. She looked terrifying and powerful…she looked beautiful. Lydia knew she would follow her to Oblivion and back. Moving to the foyer and shouldering her pack, the dragonborn pushed open the door and looked back at her housecarl.

"Shall we go?"

A warm smile bloomed upon her face before she gave her answer resolutely, joyously. "Lead on, Thane."

I will admit I play Bethesda games on PC and modded to pieces, so its been a while since I've SEEN vanilla Lydia. I use the Bijin Warmaiden's mod for her and Rayya so while I try to keep descriptions of them vague if they don't remind you of the vanilla game, that's why. Much of my armor and weapons descriptions come from mods as well. This will end up being a series I think. However I suspect it won't end up in order. This is separate from my other Skyrim story, Occluded Luster yet it features the same dragonborn. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Dragon,

R. Niiyama

7/2016