(AN: I started this as a small writing project to pass the time over the summer, on top of a summer assignment, so the chapter updates might be sporadic as I complete the Dawnguard story line.
I got this idea after I saw the severe lack of Skyrim fics depicting non-Dragonborn characters (which is why I listed the main character as an OC and not the Dragonborn/Dovahkiin) and fics where the characters simply lampoon through the world and not end up in some sort of relationship. Therefore, this story will instead focus on a growing friendship between a cynical and cautious young(ish?) woman and her companion who is just a bit too trusting.
Therefore, dear reader, I bid you to read on!)
Gods everything hurt.
He couldn't see, and he couldn't breathe, and every sound was muffled and hazy; briefly he thought he'd been struck blind and deaf by the impact, but that was not the case. As his vision began to clear, all he could see in front of him was his hands and the remains of Auriel's Chapel, shattered to ruins. For a moment he wondered if he would die here – if they would both die here. But those thoughts were, thankfully, quickly dashed by the feeling of someone grabbing his hand. Their fingers were deathly cold, thin and womanly, but calloused and strong. He looked up, breathing a rattly sigh of relief and coughing up dust as he tried to get to his feet.
"Are you alright?" she asked him, giving a glance to the sizable hunk of rock that he wriggled out from under; if it were any other man, she would have been surprised that it hadn't killed him. "He fled to the balcony; we can still do this."
She didn't have to say another word, before he was on his feet and following her briskly, keeping his sword sheathed for the sake of civility; though it didn't matter anymore He still held onto a tiny glimmer of hope that they would be able to settle this diplomatically, though.
But he knew he was wrong.