Chapter One
He had followed her through everything, standing beside her as a blade and a shield against dragons, against Draugr and against herself, always to protect her because he had been deemed her Housecarl. It was a worthy title, it was worthy to stand beside her and be there through her adventures, the adventures that had taken them all over Skyrim, places which he had never seen before. He had been with her to witness the war, to side with the Stormcloaks and make battle with other soldiers, only for her. He looked up to her as a warrior, a Companion and a lover, if only she recognised the signs, the secret letters that she would receive from the Courier. But she never realised at all.
She had worn the Amulet of Mara as a symbol, not because she was looking for marriage but because she liked the looked of the interested men that swarmed over her, she was the Dragonborn and what a great lover she would make. But she knew that she would regret having a husband, leaving them alone cooped up in the many houses she had bought across Skyrim, that was no life for them. She wanted a warrior, a strong Nord warrior that would survive through their adventures, to follow her into the bowls of Blackreach, or wander the snowy plains by the ocean, ready to kill Horkers for her, because she was too scared. She wanted the laughs and the jokes of a lover to journey with on the long stretches of road ready to discover places in Skyrim which had long been forgotten, almost someone like him, like Argis.
She looked reluctantly at him walking behind her, wanting to admit something to him but unable to find the words, knowing full well that she would be happy enough to spend the rest of her days with him. Already knowing what it felt like to make love to her Housecarl. Her cheeks burned and she thanked that he couldn't see, remembering that drunken night had already set her feelings for him in stone. The drunken passion and lust was a feeling she couldn't forget with him, the way he had touched her and claimed her, it was a hungry passion that she had been rewarded and desperately wanted all of it again.
It wasn't unusual for Eve to take a stroll off the long path up towards Markarth, she didn't exactly want to say farewell to Argis just yet, and he was after all her favourite follower. They had been through everything, he had saved her life in many perilous situations, and she had almost killed him in others. He walked behind her casually, strapped up tight in Dragonplate armour that she had forged just for him, she had killed so many dragons so that he could wear that armour, and damn he looked good in it. People had thought it strange to wear armour made out of dragon bones but it was a sign that she could do it, that she could slaughter those beasts, of course somewhat riddled with guilt. She understood their shouts, their cries, and no-one else could. It was a troublesome thing being the Dragonborn.
The land was Moorish and filled with rivers that snaked through the countryside; Argis could not deny himself the pleasure of returning home, he knew that she wouldn't stay for long. To rest in one place was a life not worth living for her, and he secretly knew that she hated Markarth more than any other foreigner outside the walls.
As they approached the main gates an atmosphere of melancholy fell between them, a realisation that she would ask him to leave her service and she would stroll back out of Markarth without anyone to watch her back. It wasn't that he doubted her capability as a fighter, he knew full well what she was capable of, it was just that she was stupid sometimes, too busy sneaking to be fully aware of what was going on. The countless times he had protected her against a Sabre Cat whilst she hunted Forsworn or worse, and she didn't even know. But that was fine because she was safe and he protected her to the best of his ability, and already promised to protect her with his life.
He watched her body move through the crowds of people in Markarth, wanting desperately to snake his hands around her hips, claim that sexy rear end of hers and devour her with kisses that would electrify every single nerve in that scarred up body. He wanted to throw her down on the bed, wanting to hear her call his name as she lost herself in a sickeningly pleasurable madness that only he could cure, and only he could inflict. She looked briefly behind at him to make sure that he was still there, he looked deep into the azure colour of her eyes, feeling a pang of lust conflicted with regret. Regret that he had never made her understand the feelings he held since that drunken night where they had both lost themselves in each other.
A/N: Oh Argis 3 My favourite Skyrim follower of all time, I just had to write a small one-shot with him in! It will be three chapters long and definitely M rated! Argis definitely doesn't get enough appreciation!
