This is a series that I have had sitting on my computer since I played Skyrim the first time, so many years ago. I have now finally decided to upload it. The chapters are short, but I hope it's enjoyable. Review if you feel so led.

Seven Thousand Steps

Despite the fire of her Nord blood, Lydia was freezing. She had never felt so cold in her life. No matter if she crossed her arms over her chest to trap in the heat, or layered herself with furs, or pressed herself as close to the hot orange flames, she was cold to her very bones. Lydia had never noticed the cold before, but here up on this godsforsaken mountain she was very cold.

Her traveling companion – a fellow Nord – had ventured off to find some dinner. As if anything would be living up in this retched climate. Could anything even survive? If a Nord, whose blood defied the freezing temperatures of perpetual winter, was cold, could anything else?

"It's not much," said a voice approaching from the rear guard. Lydia instantly recognized the voice as the one belonging to her companion. The Nord passed her and squatted next to the fire with two small rabbits held in one hand. "But it's better than nothing."

To that she agreed. Food meant energy, and energy meant heat. She would kill to have a big pot of beef and potato stew in front of her. At least the thought of it brought warm memories to her heart.

"I didn't even think anything could survive up here," she said, keeping her mouth tight so as to prevent her teeth from chattering.

"Nor I, but I would venture a guess that the animals of Skyrim have what we Nords have. A resistance to the cold."

Lydia laughed mirthlessly. "Well, I, sir, have been freezing ass off ever since we ventured up this damned mountain."

Vidar chuckled in response as he began to prepare the rabbits for skewering.

"I asked you if you wanted to go with me on this trip. You said yes, and you could have said no."

"It is a housecarl's duty to her thane to do whatever he asks."

"Even if it's going to the coldest, most forsaken mountain in Skyrim?"

"Whatever he asks," she repeated.

Vidar shook his head. "Your sense of duty is commendable, Lydia, and also quite…ludicrous."

A gust of wind swept up over the ridge and blew a fresh blast of icy cold air against Lydia. She shivered, tightened her furs about her, and didn't reply.

Vidar understood her silence and continued his preparations for their dinner. He dug into his pack and pulled out a salt pile that he had conjured up from a barrel outside a house in Ivarstead. She thanked Talos that he'd had the vigilance to bring such provisions.

By the time the rabbits were thoroughly cooked – the meat tender and juicy – Lydia was nearly doubled over trying to conserve heat. She ate in that position, and even after she was done, she was still incapacitated by the cold. Vidar grew concerned watching her, so he decided to intervene.

"Lydia, does you being my housecarl come with any restrictions?"

Her head popped up. She shook her head with chattering teeth.

Vidar nodded. He stood and walked over Lydia's side of the fire, where he sat down next to her.

"Then, as housecarl, I think it is your duty to let me keep you warm."

Her eyes snapped over to him and there was a confused, guarded expression on her face. At least he hadn't asked her to take her clothes off so they could "conserve body heat."

"I just want to keep you warm," he further explained, "and I know you're too damn stubborn to ask me to do it, so I order you."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Lydia…" he spoke warningly.

The Nord woman relented, unleashing her arms from their tight grip around her midsection and latched them onto Vidar's waist. He pulled a falling fur blanket up back around her shoulders and then twined his own arms around her. Warmth seeped into her chilly bones and she suddenly felt less alone in the world.

She was his only companion, his only housecarl. He couldn't let her die in the cold. She refused to die in the cold.