Date: Morndas, 18th of Frostfall, 4E 201
Location: Skyrim / Hjaalmarch
"I hate swamps." Fjortra Sun-Hater grumbled. She had long since abandoned her set of armor for more breathable, practical clothing. Otherwise, she'd be waist-deep in gritty rot with ankles sinking down into the layers of slime and mud that covered the bottom of every trench.
"My friend, is there anything that you don't hate?" Hessende, her dear Altmer companion of six months, questioned humorously. Fjortra rolled her eyes but she couldn't very well argue. Even her nickname had hate in it.
"I don't hate you." She replied with a too-bright grin for her mood. The taller woman laughed.
"My, but that is an honor," Hessende quipped, smirking, "However did I come across such a thing?"
Fjortra returned the laugh, unable to continue the joke with a straight face. It was the easy companionship she liked most about her Altmer. It was widely believed that all high elves were prissy and demanding and stuck up, but it wasn't true. -At least, not for many of them. That perception came from bad impressions, cultural differences like humor and what's considered civil and what's not, etc. The Thalmor especially made it difficult for lovebugs like Hessende to be looked at with any lack of racism or hatred.
When they'd met all those months ago, simply passing each other on the road, Fjortra had seen the discomfort and the shade of fear clinging to Hessende- wondering if she was a racist as well, or some Nordic thug wanting her valuables. As if she could. Hessende was a powerful enough Pyromancer that she'd be flayed before she realized the elf would have moved. No, it was their meeting that brought them together, she thought with a smile.
"Honestly, who in their right mind would venture out here to procure ingredients? Unarmed, unprotected?" Fjortra shoved at a particularly sassy mudcrab denying her a handhold on some dry land. It landed harmlessly in the water a few paces away and she dragged herself up. Belly down on the sickly yellow grass and muck made the putrid smell of it all so much clearer.
Hessende gladly accepted a hand up once Fjortra got her balance back, "A fool?" she suggested, softly grunting at the effort of lifting her own weight, "I know not."
A startling squeak had both women jolting to turn about. There behind and to the side was Rayya, housecarl of Fjortra. Her dripping arm had a hold of the sassy mudcrab that the Nord had shoved a moment before, her other gripping the hilt of a scimitar that impaled the creature.
Fjortra relaxed, sighing. She loved Rayya but sometimes she was so quiet that she forgot where she was in relation to her or Hessende. Of the people that had ever followed her, Rayya was the most devoted. Redguard by look she was, though she'd been raised in Skyrim as an orphan. Sometimes Fjortra wanted to send her back to Falkreath simply to give her rest, but her own selfishness and Rayya's insistence on staying near her were too much to argue against.
"Was that necessary?" Hessende drawled, one perfect eyebrow quirking upward. Fjortra wished she could do that. Every time she tried by the fireside at night, she'd only been a laughing stock for Hessende.
Rayya glanced up at the Altmer with fiery eyes set in a stony face. It was haltingly potent for a glare, but deemed common by the elf who saw it always. After all, it was Rayya's only expression. "It threatened my lady."
Fjortra melted a little inside at the protectiveness. Despite her Nordic pride, it was part of her culture to admire strength and loyalty. Rayya was its example, pure as a winter spring. The heat of her gaze sent warm tingles buzzing about her stomach, blooming lower on her body into a hotness most pleasant. "I appreciate your vigilance, as always, Rayya. Now please, take my hand so that I might return the favor in helping you."
The housecarl regarded her for a moment- just long enough for Fjortra to wonder if she'd think it appropriate to accept- before giving a firm nod. The scimitar was sheathed, and one of the strong, lithe hands Fjortra dreamed of slipped into hers. Perhaps she gripped too hard, or Rayya pushed just a little bit too much, but suddenly she was close. So, so close. Their noses bumped just barely, bodies on the edge of full contact. Fjortra forgot to breathe.
"I am safe, my Thane…" Rayya whispered, voice softer than Fjortra had ever heard it, "You may let go whenever you wish to." The Nord remembered she was still holding her housecarl's hand.
"What if I don't want to let go?" Rayya's lips were dangerously close. Soft puffs of her warm breath caressed Fjortra's face. She could so easily lean closer…
"That would be… inappropriate. I am your housecarl, and you are my Thane." Fjortra could have sworn she heard a hesitation in Rayya's voice. Something to implicate she felt the same want as she. Anything to hint at her feelings being well hidden rather than nonexistent. But, she knew, it was likely her mind playing tricks on her. Making her hear things that she wanted to.
"Of course," the Nord hastily released Rayya and turned away.
"I will scout ahead." Rayya immediately stated before jogging off into the perpetual fog. She was as quiet as a ghost, so neither woman left behind knew where to locate her once she was out of sight.
Fjortra sighed, exhausted, and sat down in the wet mud. Hessende joined her after a moment of eerie silence passed. The Altmer's hand found Fjortra's shoulder, "I suppose your control was bound to slip eventually." She murmured gently, sympathetic.
The Nord didn't have it in her at the moment to argue about her people's constitution. "I… forgot how… She was so close and I found my desire too great to resist. Be proud that I resisted the urge to embrace her and taste her lips on the spot."
Hessende smiled slightly at the humor. "Perhaps that would have gotten the point across."
"What, Hessende? That I've fallen in love with a woman who cannot and will not feel the same? That our stations prevent us…" Fjortra paused, realizing something she hadn't before. Perhaps relieving Rayya of her duty would enable her freedom. She had thought on this more than once of course, but each time she wanted to broach the subject it was either another disaster or Rayya herself would hear none of it.
"What?" Hessende prompted curiously.
"Well," Fjortra wilted, knowing it wouldn't cause Rayya to love her back, but knowing it would still be for the better, "I could relieve her of her duties. I have need of stewardship for Lakeview, so she would no be lacking a way to feed herself. I know it will not endear me to her, but she would still gain her freedom. She has waited for it for far too long."
Hessende pressed a hand to her chest, "I thought you'd ask me to be your steward!"
"Hessende!" Fjortra laughed, glad for the elf's timely humor. It was needed to break up the tension that had clogged the air so thickly. Her dear Altmer companion joined her, wrapping a long arm around her shoulders for a tight squeeze. Fjortra found herself relaxing back to normalcy, soothed by the steadiness in her friend. It felt much like grabbing onto safety from a stormy ocean's waves.
"Well. Shall we trek this hellish swamp now? I've a mind to get yours distracted."
Fjortra returned the elf's partial hug, reminded again of her unrequited feelings. "As much as I'd like that, shouldn't we wait for Rayya?"
"She's an excellent tracker, is she not? I am certain she will find us if need be."
"Really."
The Altmer's eyes went wide with innocence, "Really!"
"Alright, then," she shrugged, the both of them untangling in order to stand, "but when she scolds me for running off without her, I'm telling her it was your idea."
"Fair enough, darling." Hessende nodded once in agreement, giving the Nord a mischievous smile. Not for the first time, Fjortra wondered how her friend could get humor out of almost anything. It was impossible to be upset with her when her sunset-colored eyes shone at her, so full of mirth and warmth as they were.
…
"My Thane, moving ahead without me is dangerous. That is why I chose to scout first." Rayya's chiding voice was hardly any different from her normal one. It was still stiff and serious, without a hint of true emotion behind it. Fjortra sighed, leaning her face into her hand where she sat on a log by the campfire Hessende was building.
"It was her idea."
Hessende glanced at Fjortra, smirking. With Rayya's back to her, the housecarl didn't see. "And you agreed to it. It is not my place to question your decisions, but if those decisions prevent me from protecting you as I should, I must bring it to your attention."
Fjortra tried to keep her face from morphing into something that looked suspiciously like reticence. "I understand… I'm sorry, Rayya."
"Please, don't apologize my lady. I simply wish to serve you well." Rayya moved away to begin building up the tent. Fjortra sent an accusatory glare at her elven friend, only to earn a laugh in return.
"Why don't you ever get in trouble?" Fjortra grumbled, "It's always just me she hates."
"Perhaps it is my charm, or simply my stunning beauty. One could never be certain." Hessende found it rather difficult to retain the snicker that jumped forth from her chest and into her throat. The pout her adorable Sun-Hater wore was just too delightful for words.
Fjortra gave up her private staring contest and moved her gaze about the landscape around them. It was foggy, as it had been for the last four days, and smelled of decay. Every bit of slime and grit she came into contact with followed her, coating her clothes and scraping at her skin. Again, she lamented being away from her home in Falkreath hold. She missed the trees, the clean rain, the smell of fresh air. Everything in Hjaalmarch was ghostly and perilous- a combination sure to breed paranoia and nightmare. If she'd been exploring this place alone, Fjortra didn't doubt she'd be both lost and more agitated than an Argonian in a desert.
As her eyes wandered, they found Rayya. Fjortra took in the sight of her muscular arms flexing as they commanded the tent to cooperate. Her face was pinched just slightly- the way it got when she was concentrating. Despite the tent's large size- to accommodate three cots- she raised it as easily as one might breathe. She would offer to help, even though she knew Rayya didn't need it, but after being told 'it wasn't her station' for the first forty times she'd given up.
A bright blast of fire before her signaled Hessende finished her portion of the camp's chores. Fjortra tore her starving eyes from Rayya, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with her own desire. "Here," she pulled a bound package out of her pack and handed it to Hessende, "get some food in you before we bed down for the night."
"Thank you." The elf's lips pulled up in a slow smirk, belying her lingering humor. Fjortra pinched the tip of the elf's nose playfully before retrieving a second package from her pack. They were nothing fancy- just portions of cheese and dried meat wrapped in wax paper. Out in the wilds it was considered an indulgence.
Rayya was just tying up the last stake when Fjortra reached her side. "Good job on the tent, as always. Thank you for putting it up."
"It is my duty to care for you, my Thane."
"Right, of course…" Fjortra glanced away, suddenly feeling awkward, "Er, here. You need to eat. Keep up your strength and all. No arguing."
The Redguard considered the package in Fjortra's hands for a moment. The Nord assumed she was warring about Fjortra wasting her supply on her and being hungry. It was practical to take the food since Fjortra didn't eat as much as she should anyway, so she still had plenty left. It made sense to share. Wanting to care for Rayya in return for her devotion was not a part of the equation. At all.
"Thank you. I will leave none of it uneaten." Finally, Rayya took the package. Fjortra thought she'd relax but instead, she only tensed up more. As her housecarl opened the paper and began to eat, Fjortra found herself still and faraway. The world around them seemed distant enough to be nothing more than the fog that surrounded them. But here, so close to Rayya, her feelings were sharply present. There was a ringing in her ears. Weight from nothing pulled on her limbs, pressing in anxiously.
"Rayya." She was speaking before she really knew what she'd say. The words she always calculated were too chaotic to bend into order. She could say goodnight and go to bed without eating. She could thank Rayya for her impressive service. She could confess.
"Yes, my Thane?" so open, so ready. Rayya looked at her with calm eyes, expectant of some request or another. It had to be the hundredth time that Fjortra wished she knew just what the woman was thinking. She hid it so well that the Nord was almost jealous sometimes.
"I…" she had no idea anymore. Her mind was empty but she wanted to speak. Anything to hear Rayya's voice. "I'm releasing you."
Rayya blinked. She stared at Fjortra for what felt like several minutes. "Have I displeased you, my lady?"
"What? No! Of course not," Fjortra swallowed down the wave of protesting emotion trying to break from her, "I just want you to be free. There's no good reason to have you for myself, no matter who I am. You are a fierce, loyal, magnificent woman who deserves to have her own life. -And don't worry about money. I could use a steward at Lakeview. If not that then I can help you attain whatever profession you'd like."
Now that the words were coming it seemed impossible to stop them. The longer she went on, the more Rayya's face changed. The more her breath left her, rushing out in a panic, "Like smithing maybe, I know you like that. Whatever it is, it doesn't matter- I just want you to live your life and be happy and I know being a housecarl isn't going to fulfill you. Being a glorified servant and bodyguard isn't what you deserve-"
A mouth, insistent and full, was what stopped her from speaking. Fjortra's mind stuttered to a full stop, emptying faster than she thought possible. All thought fled at the feeling of Rayya's lips molding to her own. She tasted of cheese and jerky and something else. Something so pleasantly addicting that the Nord pressed closer. Her arms were around her dear companion already and she dragged her closer.
It was awfully too soon when that mouth parted from hers, "How else can I stay by your side?" Rayya huffed softly, breathless as Fjortra was. She was still so close that their noses mingled. "How else can I make certain you return home?"
Through the mists of her lost mind, Fjortra tried to understand. "You would rather be in a swamp with me than… anywhere else?"
"Yes." The strength in Rayya's voice made Fjortra's breath catch. How could she sound so certain and steady? How could she…? "I long for you, my lady. My Fjortra. If I may do anything with my freedom, let me court you. Let me love you the way I have wanted for so long."
"Gods…" Fjortra couldn't tell. Was she crying? Laughing? The intensity Rayya had was the same as always, yet now she felt she finally understood why Rayya was so devoted to her. "Yes. Yes." She would have said more, confessed properly, if she'd had the ability for words at the moment. As it was, she was impressed with herself that she was still conscious.
"Then I am eager to accept your release. May I kiss you again?" It was hard to be sure when her eyes were so obscured by tears, but… Rayya was smiling? Divines above, she was. Fjortra had never seen anything so beautiful. She sniffed, nodding as she reunited her lips with Rayya's.
For the first time in months, all was right with the world. No expectations or quests were in the way. Nothing was separating them from each other anymore, and they would make certain to keep it that way. They would be happy. It was only them, lost from the war and the journey. Only them… and Hessende, who watched them with shining eyes and a manic grin.
A/N: You have no idea how hard it was for me to keep this from becoming a long-ass story about a love triangle. Hessende was only meant to be a plot device and a way to air inner thoughts but she had so much life of her own even from the beginning. She really grew on me more than I'd meant her to.
Please let me know if I made any mistakes. I wrote this half-asleep when I was supposed to be in bed.