Sina winced as Farengar dabbed the strongly scented salve onto her back. After a moment, the stinging gave way to sweet, soothing relief.
"How did you manage to burn your lower back so severely?" Farengar asked, placing a bandage over the wound.
"Funny story, really. I was trying to explain to a giant to stop eating a poor farmer's goats. And, well, long story short, he tried to cook me. Back first. Don't ask me why."
Sina felt a small nip on her shoulder and grinned.
"I suppose I cannot entirely blame him. You have a delicious looking back," Farengar murmured in her ear.
"Mmmm," Sina replied blissfully, enjoying the slow tingle working its way along her spine as a result of his whisper. "I told him you were the only one allowed to bite me. He didn't listen."
"Deplorable," Farengar said, grazing her ear with his teeth.
Sina shivered.
"Ah, don't do that. It gets me all hot and bothered," she chided, kissing his cheek.
"Yes? And?" Farengar asked, kissing her neck.
"Ohhhh... stop that!" Sina giggled, pulling away. "My back is sore and I have a date with disaster. And I'm running late!"
Farengar raised his brows, watching her throw on her clothing and rush about getting her gear together. Sina was gritting her teeth each time she bent over and chaffed her burn.
"Dragonborn business!" she explained, pulling on her bow. "They're having trouble with a group of skeletal dragons in the east. I'll be away for one week, tops."
Farengar studied her from his sprawled position on the bed, resting on his elbow.
"Are you sure you're well enough to fight a horde of undead dragons?"
Sina shrugged, then hissed as her bow rubbed across her burn.
"I'll be fine. It's just a little discomfort. Whereas for other people, it's getting eaten by skeletons. No choice."
Farengar sat up on the bed in fascination.
"What interests a skeletal dragon in eating? If they swallowed a man whole, without chewing, he'd just fall out of the dragon's ribs."
Sina surprised him by stealing a kiss, quick as lightning. One hand rested outside if his thigh, the other held her weight from between his legs, quickening his heart beat.
"I don't know," she whispered, kissing each of his cheeks in turn, "But you are very kissable. Stop being kissable. It's distracting."
Farengar ran a hand through her hair, stealing her lips in a deep kiss.
"That... is the exact opposite of being less distracting," she said after they parted. She couldn't help glancing toward the door.
"Stay here with me," he said, planting a kiss on her ear. "I promise I can be even more distracting."
Sina sighed.
"Believe me, I don't want to go," she said, climbing to her feet. "I'd rather be here with you."
Farengar gave her more salve for the road, escorted the tiny Dragonborn out of Dragonsreach, and then watched her leave with a heavy heart. It wasn't easy sharing her with the rest of Skyrim. Often he felt the country took more than its fair share.
The week dragged on. Every day without Sina bouncing through his door with her boundless energy and enthusiasm, he became increasingly lonesome. By the seventh day, Farengar watched the road from the Great Porch until well after it was too dark to make anything out before finally returning to the warmth of the keep and going to sleep. On the eighth day, the residents of Dragonsreach found the Court Wizard impossible to be around, his mood becoming more foul than the guards could remember since the time they had "accidentally" spilled his vials together and unleashed an immortal demon upon the city. On the ninth day, he leapt from his chair in the dining room when he heard Sina shout a guard off his post and into the water (her regular response to being told where to cast 'fancy magic'). Sina slowly trudged inside.
There was a flash of lightning and he could hear thunder and see rain pelting the bridge outside as the door closed behind her. The tiny Bosmer was almost invisible, shivering and all but buried beneath a pile of dragon bones.
Farengar helped take away some of her burden, walking slowly to match her pace to his desk. She was favoring her left foot, he noted.
Once he found her beneath all of her wares, he discovered she was soaked to the bone, her teeth chattering.
Farengar swept her up into a hug which she eagerly melted into, enjoying his superbly warmer core temperature.
Just as his mood was beginning to perk up from her return, and the relief of having her tucked in his arms, she explained she had to leave immediately. The skeletal dragons had been sent by a group of Foresworn necromancers, intent on unleashing terror across the country. A huge brood was poised to attack the north and time was of the essence.
"What did you do to your leg? You're limping," Farengar said.
"Fractured ankle," Sina replied, wringing out her wet hair.
To Farengar's surprise she was actually smiling, despite everything.
"How can you be smiling? You're broken, soaking wet, and have not only a brood of undead dragons to contend with, but now the Foresworn on top of it?"
Sina stroked his side burns, then lovingly ran her thin fingers through his short, brown hair.
"Because you always make me smile," she said. Standing on tiptoe with her good leg, she rose up to reach him.
Farengar captured her lips and tried to make the kiss last as long as possible. Before he knew it, the kiss had ended and she was gone, leaving him feeling bitter sweet. Her brief visit had warmed his heart, but her renewed absence left him feeling worse than before. Changing out of his wet clothes, he crawled into bed and went to sleep.
Farengar coasted through the following two weeks like a ghost. News flooded the city about a secret Foresworn pact with the Thalmor to overthrow the country. The Blue Palace was destroyed in a bitter fight between the Dragonborn - riding atop a living dragon - and a horde of skeletal dragons ridden by Thalmor. Tensions with the Aldmeri Dominion were at an all time high as a result of the Thalmor's involvement, and everyone wondered if war was on the horizon. Except for Farengar, who could not care less who was planning to wage war with who. Despite his loathing of politics, he began to keep up on current events, purely in the interest of hearing any news relating to the Dragonborn.
He threw himself into reading and research, his usual passions, but his heart wasn't in it. All the while he wondered if Sina would appear around the corner, safe and sound.
At last, a month later, a small Bosmer woman arrived in Dragonsreach.
It took Farengar a full minute to recognize her as his beloved Sina.
She moved like a ghost, barely keeping one foot in front of the other.
Farengar rushed to her side, sweeping her up into an embrace. Her frame seemed skinnier than he recalled.
When she spoke, her voice had an airy, ungrounded quality to it.
"Hey, I missed you," she said weakly.
Farengar traced a finger along her cheek, before cupping her face in his hands.
"You look thin," he said with concern.
"Oh, thanks," she said dreamily.
"That wasn't a compliment. You look skooma-addict thin, Sina."
"Oh," she said, her eyes clouding over as she seemed to lose track of where she was. A moment later her focus returned.
"I hate to pop in just to say hi and run off yet again, but the Thalmor have a found a Dwemer artifact. They're using it to create a catastrophic weapon. If I don't destroy it before they finish, Skyrim could get blowed up... blown up," she corrected herself, swaying a little.
Farengar cupped her chin in his fingers, looking into her brown eyes.
"No."
"Wha-?" she began.
"I said, no," he repeated. "You're not allowed to save the world until you've rested. And eaten."
"But... saving the world," Sina insisted, jutting out her lower lip in a pout.
"No."
"But-"
"Do I have to tie you to the bed?" Farengar asked in a sincere tone, quirking an eyebrow.
Sina glared at him petulantly.
"I can't just not go, Farengar."
"It's quite simple, actually. Step one," Farengar began, holding up a single finger. "Stay here. Step two: There is no step two."
Sina let out a strange noise somewhere between frustration and exhaustion.
"I'm the Dragonborn! I don't get to ignore these... hero things! Everyone's counting on me!" she shouted, rubbing at the dark circles beneath her eyes. "I wish they weren't but they are," she added in a choked sob, gripping her hair in bunched fists. "I mean, I'd rather be in bed, you know? I'm sick. I have a fever. My ankle hurts, Oblivion, how it hurts. My head is throbbing. I can't even think straight!" Sina paused, taking several breaths, attempting to calm down. After swallowing, she continued. "But I don't have the time to be sick. I don't have time for being injured! I just have to push through it... just gotta mer up," she murmured stubbornly.
Farengar grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her out of his lab and toward the great doors of Dragonsreach, ignoring her protests.
"NO!" Sina shrieked stubbornly, causing all heads to turn in fright, as her tone became more and more unhinged with each step. "I'm not going to bed! I don't have time to sleep! FARENGAR! LET GO! FUS!"
Sina gasped and covered her mouth with both hands the moment the word tumbled from her lips. She hadn't meant to shout at Farengar, hadn't even realized what she was doing. She had just wanted him to let go of her wrist. Her insides froze with realization, and the dense fog surrounding her mind was suddenly pierced with adrenaline as she sprinted forward to where Farengar lay on the floor.
He groaned and sat up right away, no actual harm done, and Sina collapsed to her knees and began to cry uncontrollably repeating 'sorry' over and over, as she melted down into a mess of long, brown hair and choking sobs.
"Gods, I didn't mean to say it, I didn't mean to, I swear-"
Farengar sighed irately and rested a hand on her head.
"I was genuinely surprised that you would use your thu'um on me," he admitted. "But it was hardly more than a shove."
Sina inhaled through her stuffed nose, looking up with a flushed, bright red face and puffy eyes.
"But I didn't mean to say even one word! What if I had said two? Or three?!"
Farengar gave her a sharp look.
"Will you listen to reason and let me put you to bed now?"
Sina nodded, still sobbing and wiping at her eyes.
To her surprise, Farengar picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the keep.
It was at that moment when Sina realized how tired she actually was. The world was a haze of color and sound and pain. She couldn't tell anymore if her eyes were open or shut. Images passed by like dreams, all of it beyond her reasoning, except for the steady sound of Farengar's heart beating beside her pointed ear. Then she smelled home. Fresh herbs and fire and warmth. Farengar carried her up the stairs and laid her tiny body in bed.
The next thing Sina knew, he was insisting that she eat something. Still guilty, and terrified by the way she had treated him, she accepted his care without fuss and ate. Ages seemed to pass before she could finally see without the permanent fog of stress, pain, fever, and exhaustion she had at some point unknowingly become accustomed to.
When Farengar turned up to check on her, she looked up briefly into his sea green eyes, then yanked the blanket over her head to hide herself away.
Farengar pulled back the patchwork comforter and examined the tiny mer.
"I've been a complete terror," Sina groaned, hand covering her eyes so she wouldn't have to look at him.
Farengar nodded in agreement.
"Like caring for a petulant child. Or a dragon," he paused, adding, "Or, perhaps more aptly, a petulant young dragon."
Sina sighed at the comparison.
"You've been sleeping on and off for three days," Farengar said, gently taking her pulse. A direct result of excessive fatigue and stress. How are you feeling now?"
"Miserable. Absolutely awful. Oh, and mortified. I broke down into a crying mess in public and then used my voice to hurt the one person I-" she trailed off, trying to hide under the blanket again, but Farengar held it too tightly for her to tug it away. "Do you hate me?" she asked, her voice raw. She hoped he didn't, and although it sounded pathetic to say aloud, she couldn't help but ask.
She all but wept with relief when she felt him slide into bed beside her, enfolding her body in his arms.
"Only a lot," he said, laughing as she playfully kicked his leg.
"It's forgiven," Farengar said, when she pressed him with her gaze. "Just don't do it again."
"Never," Sina swore.
Farengar buried his face in her shoulder, inhaling deeply.
"I missed you," he said, fingers gently stroking her skin. "The world is less interesting, when you aren't here. And I worry each day, that something terrible has happened to you. I imagine you'll appear any moment to steal my notes or invisibly rearrange my potions. But the longer you're gone, the more I wonder if…" he sighed deeply. "Sometimes I imagine the Jarl, walking into my study, eyes downcast."
Sina stroked her fingers through his hair, helping him relax as he spoke. He held her tighter and she let him, even when it made her shoulder ache and caused her arm to go numb.
"I'm sorry for worrying you," she said, resting her chin on the crown of his head and wrapping her arms around him. "I'd rather be with you, every day I'm away. You worry the crap out of me, too," she chuckled. "The whole time I'm gone, I'm afraid someday I'm going to regret it. Short of magically extending your life, I only get a short time with you, assuming neither of us kicks the bucket, you know? All this saving the world business, it gets in the way."
"Have you considered finding another day job?" Farnegar asked, resting on his elbow to look at her.
Sina snickered.
"Oh please. What else could I do? And I'd feel even worse if the world ended because I was too lazy to be bothered. Oh! Speaking of which. Thalmor. Foresworn. Dangerous Dwemer weapon. War. Et cetera. What have I missed?"
Farengar shrugged.
"It's handled."
"Wait- what?" Sina asked in confusion.
"It's handled. The Foresworn fled back into the mountains. The Thalmor were dealt with by the Stormcloaks and Imperials, banding together against a common foe. There's a tenuous peace there. We'll see how long it lasts. The Dwemer artifact was destroyed. And as for war, when isn't this country on the brink of war? It's the national pass time."
Sina stared at Farengar in wide-eyed amazement.
"You hate politics. And current events. And... and political current events!"
Farengar kissed her.
"It was cutting into our time together. I've been forcing myself to stay informed."
"Wow. All that happened without me? Apparently I need to stay home more often!" she said with a laugh.
"My thoughts exactly," Farengar said with a smile, pulling her into his arms. "So, is there anywhere else you need to run off to suddenly?"
"Hm. Nope, don't think so," Sina replied.
"Good. Because I wasn't going to let you go anyway!" Farengar jumped out of bed, carrying her downstairs as she shrieked with laughter.
The rest of the day was spent curled in front of the fire pit downstairs cuddled together. The two of them said nothing, just enjoying each other's presence, staying as close as physically possible, as though making up for lost time. Sina laid in Farengar's lap, resting against his chest. The wizard held her close, breathing in the wonderful scent that was her, burying his chin in her sun kissed brown hair. For a time he nodded off, in a state of bliss.
Late in the evening when he saw goose bumps on her skin, he levitated a blanket from the corner over and spread it out over the both of them. With a gentle motion of his hand, the coals in the fire glowed red, and the house began to warm. He loved the small, cozy home and every moment he spent there with her. Breezehome was an extension of Sina. There were books in every corner, a faint scent of flowers and herbs, intricate wood carvings, and a crackling fire.
Farengar always felt happy and peaceful, but tonight felt perfect.
Sina sighed blissfully, sinking into him.
"I love you, Farengar," she whispered.
His heart swelled and his eyes widened.
"I love you," he replied quietly, tasting the words in his mouth. They felt good to say aloud. As though they shared some of the impossible joy and excitement straining within his chest.