A/N
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the names, characters, setting contained within. Bioware/Black Isle/Interplay does, with one exception (which I am almost ashamed to admit): Maerésu/Maraesu.
I
It wasn't fair. Gorion couldn't even spell her name properly. He wouldn't stop nagging her. Nag, nag, nag. He was so mean. The golden haired girl smiled brightly. She couldn't stay mad at him for long. He was so lovely, when he wasn't nagging. He just didn't understand she was made for better things than washing up, or shaking out her bedcovers. It was boring to sit around for hours reading dusty old tomes. Why, even stuffy old Ulraunt doted on her, the silly old thing. She even convinced him to grow a moustache, just so she could tweak and curl it on one end. Whenever the Keeper of the Tomes (what a pompous title) was getting too stuffy, she'd just lean over and give it a little tug; he'd stop, think about it, and remember himself. Then he'd pretend to look stern, be unable to hold back his smile, and everything would be all right again.
Even Reevor loved her, the silly old dwarf. She wasn't going to kill rats! She smiled dazzlingly up at the two lovebirds on the ramparts; they chirped cheerfully and flew off to do the private things that birds and bees did. Silly little things, so adorable.