The responses and messages from the first chapter were incredible. THANK YOU! Seriously. I was a little nervous about writing a fic outside of standard Glee. But all my original fics are actually fantasy novels, so I am really excited to write something in "my wheelhouse".
To answer a lot of questions, this story starts in media res which is a silly fancy literature term that essentially means in the middle of things. Action has already happened before and will be revealed eventually. The reader isn't supposed to know everything about Santana or Brittany yet.
My non-Skyrim/fantasy readers, you are in the same boat as my gf/editor. I will start a glossary of terms on my tumblr for reference.
To everyone thinking of purchasing Skyrim, AWESOME! It's totally worth it. Do NOT purchase it for the PS3. I love my playstation, it's fantastic, but there is almost no support for Skyrim on playstation and it's buggy as fuck. Play on your PC because hellloooooo mods also Steam sales.
Finally, I got a few of these - yes! I did mean to write Dovekin as Dovekin. That was not a mistake. I promise! :D
I would be doing the community a disservice if I didn't mention that there are talks of a BrittanaCon 2014. They are looking for website gurus, logos, graphic designers, logistics help, and a general idea of interest. I've already committed to attending and I think it's going to be a great time. A lot of the fandom's best have already committed as well to going or helping, so I encourage everyone who's interested to check out the website. I'm going to put a link to the google+ community and the tumblr page with the information in my FF profile. Hope to see you all there! :D
Sorry for long A/N. :)
Dovekin
1.2
"Junk."
Santana tossed a broken helmet over her shoulder.
"Junk."
Rotten fruit.
"Junk."
An old sword.
"Junk."
Some bone dust.
"Junk."
A dagger.
"I don't know, there's some decent stuff…" The voice behind her mused. Santana rolled her eyes. Decent? Maybe if she was a beggar. Everything Santana tossed over her back, Brittany was quick to pick up and slip into her pack. Santana glanced back and noticed the way Brittany's pack bulged with all the things she had just discarded. She was kidding right? What was she going to do lugging around all that extra weight?
"By Talos! Is there nothing good here?" Santana muttered as she continued to sift through the pile of bodies and dismembered spiders. Their pursuit of the final brigand had slowed after the battle. "If I see one more rusty dagger, I'm going to kill something!"
"We sort of already killed a lot of things. But if you really need to kill some more things, I'm sure there's another part of the crypt that we haven't explored." Brittany answered with a hint of anticipation. She had been resigned to work through the crypt alone, but the possibility of traveling with another person had revitalized her spirit. The possibility of traveling with this Santana had even greater appeal. There was something about Santana.
"By Talos's arm and leg and beard and cloak and his bloody nose!" The string of curses that exited her mouth were either in response to Brittany's rather glib response or that Santana had not only found another rusty knife, but she had accidently sliced her palm open on the blade. She sucked on the wound to stem the bleeding. It didn't hurt that much, but it was the idea that she had done it while paying attention to the blonde that annoyed Santana more than anything. Even more so, this wasn't the first time she had allowed herself to be distracted by Brittany. It was proving to be a dangerous habit. "I know we just killed a lot of Talos cursed things. Thank you for the battle report."
"Sorry, I just thought cause you said you wanted to kill something-" She apologized, but her smile never faded.
"Do you take everything someone says as truth? What kind of Nord are you?" Santana kept trying to apply enough pressure to her palm, but she was still bleeding. After two skirmishes and a fairly large attack from the spiders and the Draugr, she hadn't sustained a single nick or scrape, but she was cut by a fucking piece of shit dagger and with no loot to show for the blood. Blood shed needlessly – even a small amount – was a waste of energy and a bad omen.
Her father taught her that.
One quick look down the winding and rather ominous corridor strengthened that feeling.
Darkly, she mused it could be her choice of company.
A hand wrapped gently around Santana's wrist. The warrior flinched as a reflex. Santana's heart was beating fast again. She hadn't been prepared for her companion to brazenly touch her. Brittany tilted her head, but patiently waited for Santana to relax. Warmth blossomed between them once again. Prolonged exposure to Skyrim's climate had naturally gifted to the Nords an aversion to the cold, but Santana's heat trailed around Brittany's fingers and circled around her wrist. She wanted to tell Santana she was warm, but –
Brittany had a feeling it was something Santana couldn't control.
Dark eyes waited expectantly for Brittany to make the observation.
But it never came. Santana wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed that Brittany hadn't commented. Whatever she felt – Brittany's silence had been unexpected.
Softly Brittany suggested. "I can heal that."
Santana twisted her wrist back. Brittany didn't release, but she did loosen her grip. They both could have easily tested the limits of their newly formed armistice. Only a few hours separated now and when they had fought each other.
"It's not a simple trick of light like your bouncing friend." Santana's eyes flickered to the ball of light that had been circling around their area.
"Nor is it a mortal wound." Brittany's voice lifted and dropped before rising once more. It teased much like the conjured ball. "Well-" Santana wondered if those blue eyes would capture light and twinkle when they weren't surrounded by darkness. "-it won't be if you let me see it."
Reluctant by nature, Santana was slow to allow Brittany to pull her hand back. Light enveloped Brittany's fingers and spread across Santana's outstretched hand. Her skin tingled as it absorbed the healing force emanating from the blonde. Warmth and magicka coupled. A wave of rejuvenation washed over her body and she felt instantly renewed. The light encompassed more than her hand. The surging magicka washed over her body. It felt like Brittany was infusing her with something more. Santana had been so captivated by the play of magicka that she hadn't noticed Brittany's eyes had never left her own. She had been watching Santana's reaction the whole time – still smiling.
The light above them flickered and started to falter.
It broke their eye contact. The tingling sensations ebbed and slowed until it was only the contact between their hands creating any sort of "magicka." Even that ended too soon.
Regretfully, Brittany glanced up to the ball of light and released Santana's hand with a sigh.
Maintaining the fabricated light and healing Santana at the same time had pushed the woman's magickas to their apex. The moment hadn't been lost on Santana. "Thank you. It feels good." She flexed her hand. It felt better than good; her whole body hummed with subtle undulations of residual power. A thin red line was the only evidence of the injury. Given time, it would fade away completely. Curiosity still gnawed her. "Are you an apprentice from the College at Winterhold?"
Brittany collected the ball and bounced it in the air a few times. It flared back to life. "Winterhold?" Her eyes peered off. She shook her head ruefully as if Santana's suggestion was unfathomable. "You would weave me into some grand magicka user? I've never been that far North, but I've heard tales of the mages from the College."
Santana narrowed her gaze. "Not a mercenary. Not a mage. Not a bandit or a warrior. Not a Stormcloak or an Imperial. Brittany, Daughter of Pierce, Dovekin, you possess a strange set of skills for one so deep underground with nothing but a fool's errand."
"Do you regret trusting me?"
Santana pondered the question, but flashed the blonde a smile of her own. "Who says I trust you?"
"Not all trust has to be said aloud."
Santana flushed and bristled. She shook her head and finally broke the prolonged eye contact between them. What in Talos's name was this woman doing down here? What in Talos's name was she, Santana, doing? Every set of training and knowledge Santana had accumulated shouted that she should be cautious. Under no circumstance should she trust a woman like Brittany, Daughter of Pierce, Dovekin. It was dangerous and foolish. But Brittany was right. Santana couldn't deny her words. For some reason, she trusted this woman. Instead of responding, Santana pulled away and gathered her gear. She noticed the trail of blood from their scar faced friend had deviated from the Frostbite spider nest. He had been crafty enough to avoid the trap she had sprung. It galled her to know she had been distracted enough to fall into a trap the bandit had cleanly avoided.
A well-crafted helmet lying beside a Draugr body caught her eye. It lacked the station markings of city guard armor or the intricacies of elven glass or the durability and gaudiness of Dwemer metal, but it was serviceable Nord steel. Santana picked it up and ran her fingers over the short nose piece. She flipped it and found the brand on the inside and instantly recognized the stamp – female blacksmith in Whiterun.
"Here." Santana tossed the half-helm to her companion. Brittany fumbled with the packs in her hands and almost dropped everything to the ground as she caught the helmet out of the air. Santana didn't know why she enjoyed the look of confused amusement on Brittany's face so much, but she almost wanted to surprise her again just to see those blue eyes grow big.
"What do I need this for?" Brittany struggled with her filled pack before she eventually alleviated some of the weight by tossing a few of the more useless items back to the ground. She turned the helmet in her hands and glanced back to Santana for guidance.
"I might not always be there to protect your pretty head." Santana suggested with a smirk.
Brittany opened her mouth to issue a rebuttal, but Santana did have a point. "I meant to thank you for that."
"You didn't have to." Santana waited. Brittany fiddled with the nose piece the same way Santana had done. Her eyes trailed along the steel. The helmet had been made for a bigger head, but she adjusted the leather straps under her chin until it fit her snuggly. Blonde hair hung loose behind her neck, but the helmet protected her head and the eye holes were large enough that her vision would be mostly unhindered. Santana nodded with satisfaction. She looked good. "Does it fit?"
"Yes, but I don't see-" She readjusted the strap again. "-why I have to wear one and you only have to wear that circlet. I can't imagine it would protect you as well as a helmet."
"Unlike you, I am very cautious of my head." Santana turned and picked up the trail of blood in the corridor. Brittany followed. The bouncing light circled around them once more. "And this circlet, as you call it, will protect me better than any helmet would."
Brittany doubted the tiny golden circlet could protect anything. It did, however, have a very red stone in the center. Besides decoration, Brittany couldn't see much use for Santana's headpiece, or why she insisted on protecting Brittany's pretty head. Brittany mused aloud. "Perhaps you are cautious of your head, but you don't seem all that cautious about where you're walking."
A small scuff from the other woman's boot echoed through the corridor. Santana was grateful that she was leading and Brittany couldn't see the color in her cheeks. She hadn't meant to lead them straight into a spider nest. Light-hearted laughter bounced off the walls. Apparently Brittany had also heard Santana misstep. Not used to being the recipient of ridicule, Santana straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin defiantly as if she hadn't just made a fool of herself a second time.
They had been walking for what felt like hours. A few random Frostbite spiders had attacked, but nothing like before. Together, they had easily dispatched any adversary including a few overzealous Skeever rats.
Brittany had closed the distance between them. Santana had been hyperaware of her proximity for the last three corridors.
"You said they stole something from your family earlier. Mind if I ask what it was?"
Her light voice startled Santana and she almost lost her purchase again. She puffed a sigh of relief that she hadn't repeated her embarrassing trip so soon. Despite what she had so far displayed for the blonde Nord, Santana had always had impeccable footing and rock solid balance. For some reason, it had been off since she had met Brittany. Santana half-heartedly reasoned that perhaps it was the other woman's ball of light or some other kind of unseen spell she was working to throw Santana's balance off. Whatever it was – Santana pressed on at a faster pace.
The question was innocent enough.
The answer wasn't.
Santana contemplated whether to tell her new companion the truth. Unconsciously, her fingers flexed around the grip of her blades and tightened. Had this been anyone else, Santana wouldn't have even considered sharing the details of her family's stolen heirloom. In fact, Santana would have cut anyone else down before daring to trust them. It was too valuable and priceless to even divulge the smallest of details. But – Santana remembered the wooden spoon Brittany had turned around in her hand in curiosity before shoving it into her pack; she remembered the worthless rusty dagger and the other random worthless things she had collected from the Draugr bodies. Santana doubted Brittany had entered the dark crypt hoping for treasure. So far, Brittany showed no inklings of a thief or an opportunistic adventurer. She was starting to believe Brittany really was searching for an unnamed object in the dark underground.
The problem was Santana had a difficult time imagining this woman lying about anything.
Brittany didn't miss the hesitation. Santana had remained guarded and rightfully so. It was only natural, but it didn't assuage the curiosity Brittany held to know everything about this woman. Everything about her told a different story – the way she walked, held her blade, the markings on her armor, the golden red stoned circlet, her dark hair, but Nord accent, and of course, those eyes. Stories and lives and secrets emanated from the warrior. It was impossible not to be curious. "It's okay. I understand. I haven't told you much about myself either."
"Like I said…it's a family heirloom – " Santana repeated with a sigh. She already fought alongside Brittany in battle. Between Nords, they were as close as blood. "-not that my family was particularly fond of it or even cares so much that it's missing."
"Is it cursed?" Interest piqued, Brittany quickly questioned.
Not used to being interrupted, Santana pursed her lips, but Brittany's genuine excitement placated her fears of sharing her tale with the other woman. "No. It's not cursed, but it might as well be, as my family doesn't care if it is returned."
"But it's an heirloom? It's important?"
"According to our family legend – it is the key that will lead our family to a great destiny – a terrible and unavoidable destiny."
"Has it?" Brittany's eyes widened.
"Some would say it already has, but I am not one for taking chances."
Not one for chances and yet she had allowed Brittany to remain close even though they were strangers. Perhaps Santana had different views of herself. Brittany chose to keep those thoughts to herself. "Is it a talisman or a weapon?"
Again, Santana shook her head ruefully at Brittany's energy. She half turned so she could see the blonde's blue eyes through the holes of the helmet. Here, she hesitated, as this was the moment a greedy companion could decide to take a chance killing her and trying to recover the heirloom by themselves. Brittany waited expectantly with baited breath as she imaged what the heirloom could possibly be.
"It's a three fingered dragon's claw – made of solid gold." Santana lifted her ungloved hand and raised her three fingers to illustrate.
"It sounds priceless – why would your family not care about it being stolen?"
"It's grown to be a point of contention amongst our family members. It is priceless – thus why some would want to put a price on it. It has been hidden and locked away to avoid further conflict. They would rather forget its existence."
"A strange family to so easily throw away an object tied to a destiny."
"I said terrible and unavoidable, right?" Santana repeated with a sad smile. "Because those are the exact words attached to the three clawed dragon piece."
Brittany only nodded in response. Santana's words struck a particularly personal chord. They were words Brittany could understand – especially now and her own reasons for entering the crypt. Terrible and unavoidable twisted a word like destiny. They ripped destiny from the stars; they ripped destiny from tales and legends and grounded it; made it dirty, made it real. A shudder ran down Brittany's back.
Terrible and unavoidable. The weight of words could be crushing.
"A heavy burden to place upon yourself to recover it."
This time Santana remained silent. Brittany's words cut through her core. This Brittany, Daughter of Pierce, Dovekin, had only known Santana for a few hours and with one sentence, she had effectively touched a place of intimacy where her duty and familial love constantly waged war. Breathless, Santana whispered. "Yes."
During the course of their conversation, Brittany's pace had leveled with Santana's. They were walking side by side and Brittany had no intention of slowing her pace to return to the rear. She enjoyed the ability to see Santana's eyes when they were talking. It was a luxury Brittany wasn't keen to cede just yet. Small waves of heat rolled from her companion's body and Brittany no longer wondered why Santana didn't wear gloves in the freezing cold. Santana's left hand remained poised over her sword. Brittany wondered if there was ever a time when Santana wasn't prepared for battle.
"Hold." Santana's right hand flipped into the air in front of Brittany's face. The blonde came to an immediate halt and reached back for her axe. As Santana had yet to unsheathe, Brittany didn't draw.
"What is it?"
"Touch plates."
"What?"
"On the floor." Santana pointed to the stones on the floor. Every few stones, a stone with two raised dots stood out from the rest of the flooring. Brittany would have never noticed them as they were so inconspicuously placed throughout.
"What do they do?"
"You don't know until you trip one." Santana distractedly answered. Her eyes were scanning the walls and the ceilings for potential traps, but nothing immediately stood out.
"Seems simple enough." Brittany took a step forward.
"By Talos!" Santana swore and violently grasped Brittany by the forearm and yanked her back before she could step on the pressure plate underneath her hovering boot. "Weren't you listening to me?"
Brittany's face turned bright red underneath the half-helm. She had been listening. She had. "I just thought I'd be able to get through it."
"You think you can fly through it? I have yet to see your wings, Dovekin." Santana shook her head. Brittany, daughter of Pierce, Dovekin, was going to get them killed if she kept bouncing around like a bird just hatched. For knowing the rudiments of magicka and wielding a battle axe, Santana couldn't understand how Brittany had expected to make it through her little mysterious quest alive. "No, it's easier if we can identify the source of the trap and disable it from spring. Like over there -" Santana pointed to a small cutout to their right. "-if you would have triggered that stone, it would have released those bars of spikes directly into our path."
Brittany squinted at the area Santana singled out, but she still couldn't see what she was talking about.
"Here."
"What?"
"Come here. I'll show you." Santana felt compelled to demonstrate the nature of the trap for Brittany. She didn't hesitate to take Brittany by the wrist and lead her backward. Her dark eyes quickly measured the length of the spikes and the space they would need to avoid the iron points. It would be a tight fit. Santana reached into her own pack and handed over a thick deer hide binding to Brittany. "Hold this."
Brittany did as Santana commanded, but still had questions. "What's this for?"
"Just be ready and-" Santana remeasured the distance in a glance. She picked up a good sized stone and tested its weight. It would do. "- stay close."
"That won't be a problem."
The stone skipped in her hand. Santana fumbled for a half second to gain control of the rock. Brittany could have sworn she saw Santana swallow hard, but it could have been a trick of the light. Brittany pressed herself flat against the rock-face. A second later, Santana flung the rock. It flew with accuracy. Brittany remembered how Santana had threaded an arrow through the ranks of Draugr to injure the final thief. The stone hit the trigger. The sound of a release clicked. An ancient groan echoed through the room. Brittany's blue eyes snapped to the spot Santana had pointed out just in time to see the wall of iron spikes dislodge. It swung out in their direction. Anything caught in its path would be impaled.
Santana.
Brittany wrapped her arms around Santana's waist and yanked her back from the danger – just as Santana had done a few moments ago. The brunette fell back into Brittany's body. Her backside flushed against Brittany. She could feel the blonde's belt in her lower back and the hard outline of her breastplate. Their bodies pressed together. Brittany's glove clad hand spread across her stomach over the steel. It settled across her midsection over the crook of her hip where leather straps held her armor in place. With nothing to separate them, Santana's hypersensitivity to everything regarding Brittany heightened. She was focused so intently upon feel of Brittany's tender grip that she had completely forgot about the danger. Brittany's hand tightened and clenched. Santana tore her gaze away from fur lined glove on her hip in time to feel the rush of wind sweep her hair. The iron barred grate flew safely past them by a few inches. It slammed into the far wall with a loud crash. It scraped the stone. Brittany could hear the gears, pulleys, and rope straining against the bars. The sound of grinding echoed through the room as the mechanism started to reverse the bars to reset the trap.
Brittany grunted. Santana lunged forward to grasp the whole contraption as it passed them. The hidden mechanism whined against the stress. Santana held the grate tightly to stop it from resetting. Her arms flexed and her feet spread to give her leverage.
"Tie the bindings around it and anchor it to the torch on the wall! Quickly!" Santana urged Brittany. Santana groaned against the force of the pulley. Her footing slid, but she didn't budge. Brittany swiftly tied the bindings around the iron grate and wrapped it around the torch holder on the wall. The knot tightened. Santana moved back cautiously to test the strength of Brittany's knots. The fastenings caught and kept the iron gate still. Santana turned prepared to compliment the blonde's knots, but the little space separating them had diminished. Santana found herself looking up into Brittany's eyes and the words escaped her.
"We make a pretty good team." Brittany didn't seem in the least bit concerned about their proximity. She was smiling again. Santana didn't answer nor did she move. Brittany's hand had resettled on Santana's hip.
She coughed and patted Brittany's arm like she would to a fellow soldier or a friend after a practice sparring. She tried to not make it awkward as she pulled back. Her armor scratched against the iron gate at her back and made a terrible noise. She cringed and stumbled to squeeze out of the small cavity they had been sharing. Santana walked a few paces and rolled her eyes at herself. It seemed like every time she talked to Brittany for more than a few minutes, it was a new opportunity to make a fool of herself.
What was she doing?
Brittany lingered behind to watch the other woman stalk off. She wasn't quite sure why Santana had mumbled and walked away. They had just effectively avoided a rather deadly trap together.
The corridor still held a multitude of raised stones on the floor - any of which could be another trap. Maybe it was time to pull her own weight. Without a second thought, she dropped the pack she had been shouldering. It contained the loot she had scavenged from the dead Draugr and the Frostbite spiders along with a trinkets she had collected from various containers, urns, and boxes. Before Santana could turn around, Brittany jolted forward.
"Wait!" Santana cried out, but the blonde hair whipped through the air underneath the steel helmet and dashed into the middle of the trap beset corridor. Expecting the worst, Santana half-turned her head and shut her eyes.
But it never came.
Light footfalls bounced from stone to stone softer than the pounding beat of her heart. Santana dared to look up. Halfway through the corridor, Brittany had managed to find the right stones. Shocked, Santana's jaw dropped. A moment ago, Brittany had almost killed them. Now -
Brittany hopped on one foot and nimbly danced to the next stone safely.
- she was literally jumping through the ancient maze of traps and triggers. Maybe Brittany was kin to birds after all.
"Are you coming?"
"Wh-how are- how are you doing that?" Santana stuttered in disbelief.
"Just follow where I scraped the stone with my axe."
It was the first time Santana noticed Brittany had drawn her weapon and held it blade down. "You still didn't explain how you know which ones are traps -" Santana found the first one with a white scrape. Without hesitation, she placed her full weight on the stone. It held. A few places away, another stone stood out with a white marking. There had been no answer yet. Santana frowned, but leaped to the next marker. "Brittany?"
"Yeah?" She was balancing on her toes and swiping her axe on the spot beneath her. Somehow, despite the armor and her belt and her other trappings, the blonde had stretched her leg up parallel to the wall beside her. Brittany turned back with a smile on her face as if she didn't have a care in the world.
"How do you know which stones are triggers and which ones are safe?" Santana easily made it to the next marking.
Brittany shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just going with my gut on this one."
"What!?" Santana lost her balance for a have second. Her arms shot out and waved to find her center again. Her abs clenched to hold her upright.
This time, Brittany turned around completely to face Santana. Her smile had curved and appeared all the more mischievous underneath the half-helm. She took a step backward without even checking her footing. Her blue eyes playfully held Santana's gaze. The attention made her mouth dry and her breathing shorten. Brittany had successfully crossed the corridor and leaned against the far wall.
Casually, Brittany stated. "It's the distance between the stones. They have to be a certain distance to make it safe for passage. And if you look at the corners of the other stones, they look as if a boot has never touched them."
"And you knew all this?"
"Not before you pointed the first stone out."
Santana didn't even know how to respond or why she had waited until she had gotten half way through the death trap before asking. Trust had to be earned. She had just blindly trusted Brittany and could have been killed. Brittany might have been Dovekin, but Santana's father would have most certainly called his daughter bird-brained for acting so rashly.
Yet each stone held and never set off a trap.
Was it so foolish to trust this woman?
Almost at the end, Santana stretched out to pass the threshold of safety and join Brittany. As she touched down beyond the danger, her companion was already moving down the next corridor.
"By Talos-" Santana muttered under her breath. Blonde hair turned the corner out of sight. "-what am I doing? She's going to get us killed." Santana readjusted her armor and realized Brittany hadn't waited for her. "Shit." Habit drew her short sword from its scabbard. She followed the same path her companion had just walked. "Brittany?"
The corridor was dark without Brittany's conjured light, but Santana's eyes didn't require time to adjust. The hallway opened. Light poured from the upcoming room. It was long and narrow, but more spacious than the hallways. Torches lined the walls. Their light spilled over carvings and ancient stories Santana didn't recognize. The figures on the walls told stories Santana didn't recognize of legends that had long been forgotten. They stretched down the length of the entire room.
In the middle of the room, Brittany stood appraising the painting with the same expression of awe. No matter what kind of trinkets or swords or coins she had left behind in her back, it all paled in comparison. Was this room what she was supposed to find?
By the Divines, she hoped so.
"Have you ever seen a room like this?"
"No..." Santana's eyes narrowed. Now that the wonder of the room had started to diminish, Santana grew suspicious. "Who lit these lights? There is too much dust and no trace of hands on the walls. They have not been touched in months if not years." She stretched her hand out over the closest flame. It was hot. It felt like real fire, but it seemed impossible. To herself, she whispered. "How?" They had only seen Draugr, spiders, and rats. The thief she had been tracking wouldn't have taken the time to light these torches. Quickly, she cast her eyes down.
Two sets of boot prints.
One led to Brittany.
The other continued beyond where Brittany stood.
A large circular door should have ended the room and prevented passage, but it had been opened. "What is that?"
"Oh-" Brittany shrugged. "-I think someone must have just opened that door. It was like that when I got here."
Santana swept past her. Brittany hadn't given the opened door much thought. They had encountered relatively no locked doors or barred passages except for the trapped corridor behind them. She hadn't thought the opened door could be cause for alarm. The dark haired warrior had yet to sheath her sword. She approached the door with a frown on her face. Brittany stopped trying to read the stories on the walls and followed Santana to the opening. She watched with curiosity as Santana ran her hands over the edges of the circular door frame. Her bare fingers pressed into a divot still visible from the surface of the door. The hole was big enough for her finger to insert up to the knuckle. Brittany watched with rapt attention. Santana saw another hole poking from a different section of the circle and a third hole.
"Is something wrong?"
Santana pulled back. "He used the claw. That's how he opened the door."
Now Brittany frowned as she tried to understand what Santana was saying. "The dragon claw that he stole from your family? I thought when you said it opened a door, it was a metaphorical door."
"So did I." Next to the wall she recognized familiar shapes that had been on the claw.
Bear. Moth. Owl.
Absorbed in her thoughts, Santana's frown deepened as she checked the final hole. Brittany said nothing. She watched silently as Santana wrestled internally. Her fingers gripped the handle of her sword and flexed. Obviously, she had not been expecting the dragon claw to open anything, much less for the thieves to know the claw was a key. The conversation the two men had frantically exchanged during the Draugr ambush became clearer. The scarred face thief had shouted that he wasn't leaving until he got "it". Perhaps they had been after more than just a golden claw. Their retreat into the crypt had been spurred by desire, not to flee from pursuit.
Santana must have come to the same realization.
Under her breath, she whispered. "Bastard." The creak of leather strained against her grip. If he had expected a quick death, he would be disappointed. Santana had been prepared to kill him to recover her family's heirloom, but now she wanted to know everything he knew about the dragon claw. Specifically, how in Talos's name did he know the claw was a key and opened this exact door? He would know pain before he passed on from this life. Her voice darkened like it had the first time Brittany heard Santana speak to the rogues. Terse and laconic, Santana's steel resolve had surfaced once more. This was the warrior who pulled a dagger across a man's throat without blinking an eye. "This is a family matter, I understand if you have to continue your own way."
Brittany recognized this was Santana's way of excusing her companion from the imminent danger ahead. It also released her. They had traveled through the crypt from necessity and the inability to kill one another. Their slates were clean. Obligations had been met. They owed nothing to one another. Their paths diverged. The lights from the torches flickered. A wind swept through the narrow room and past the door.
Diverged.
Much like the wind from the mountain, Brittany sensed the thread invisibly tethered to her path tug and twist. The wind wanted nothing to do with Santana. Before, it had served her well to join forces with her through the underground, but now, it would be a dalliance. She had to complete her task quickly.
Santana sensed her hesitation and nodded. They had different paths. "Perhaps we will meet again, Brittany, Daughter of Pierce, Dovekin."
With the slightest hint of regret, Santana withdrew both blades and moved to press on. It wasn't often she came across a man or woman like Brittany in her travels. Most people, even Nords, were untrustworthy and would turn on a companion if given the opportunity, especially far from the cities. Most times, Santana traveled alone. Sharing the journey for a few hours had been invigorating, but it was also a relief to know they would be parting. Such partnerships had short and bloody lives. It was better to part ways without blood spilled between them. The swords in her hands dipped, but Santana lifted her chin. It was better to part. Past the door, the torches continued to line the hallway up stone stairs. Santana imagined the stairs would lead to the main chamber of the crypt. Internally, she steeled herself for what waited ahead. It could be an army of Draugr, a trap, the bandit waiting to take her by surprise, or something worse. This time she would be fighting alone.
The pathway opened.
The stone widened.
The stairs diminished and eventually flattened to the height of the floor. Santana stopped. She stood at the entrance of a great chamber. Rock formations hung from the high ceiling. A natural spring from the mountain ran through the chamber. Pathways and stone bridges carved into the center of the mountain hundreds of years ago that had withstood the decay of time. Carvings similar to the ones they had found in the dragon door antechamber room floated across the floor and told stories that ran around the chamber. They climbed the stairs in the shape of stone figures and cutouts. The impossibly lit torches lined the walls.
On the floor, a set of footprints had disturbed the thick sheet of dust that had settled over the chamber. It seemed her thief had indeed used the claw to gain access to the center piece room of the crypt. The disturbed dust didn't seem out of place because the footprints, like everything, led to the center of the chamber.
Santana lifted her eyes.
A grand set of stairs elevated to a raised platform. On top of the raised platform, Santana could see decorative stone carvings on a large tomb. But even more impressive was the backdrop. A sheet of the mountain wall had been smooth, polished, and then thousands of words had been chiseled into its surface.
Without realizing it, her mouth had dropped in appreciation of the sight. Even though the chamber was antiquated and didn't possess the same modern beauty of the cities or some of the more architecturally complex structures Santana had seen, the ancient stonework inspired a sense of archaic wonder and ominous anticipation. Beneath the stones and the earth, the dead slept restlessly and other dangers lurked. The air chilled. It swept through her armor. It was reminiscent of the unnatural frost which accompanied the Draugr. She lifted her sword, prepared for another attack.
"Perhaps-" Brittany's voice traveled up the stairs. It struggled to gain power against the wind howling between them. The sound of another voice should have slowed her heart and calmed the growing anxiety in her chest, but Brittany produced the opposite effect. "-what I am looking for is this way too?" Santana's heart jumped to her throat. She almost didn't dare to turn around. When no response came, Brittany added. "If you would have me for one more room then we could part ways."
Santana turned. The blonde had already drawn her axe. The half helm reflected the light from the torches. A sense of pride touched the rim of the helmet and the way Brittany trusted her so easily to take and wear the head piece. It fit her. Without realizing it, Santana's lips curved in a smile. "For one more room, I think I could bear your company-" She paused and licked her bottom lip. Brittany recalled the first time Santana had done so when they were fighting. A wave of warmth that had nothing to do with Santana's body temperature washed over the blonde. "-Brittany."
It somehow intensified as Santana said her name for the first time without adding her father's name or the edge in her voice when she titled her Dovekin.
"Any sign of your thief?"
Santana waited for Brittany to walk abreast of her before taking another step into the chamber. The tip of her sword pointed out the tracks she had observed earlier. "He isn't far." Brittany's presence had dispelled the unnatural cold. As they walked further into the chamber, their footfalls mirrored the set of feet that had crossed not long before. She teased. "Are you going to let him go like last time?"
"Hmm." Brittany tried not to smile, but the half-helm did little to hide her amusement. "I guess you'll just have to see what I do."
"From what I've seen, maybe I would have been safer if we had remained parted-" Her voice edged. The playfulness in her tone cut off. Santana had been willing to continue their banter, but her boot struck a different texture on the hard stone. It didn't produce the same sound. She raised her foot cautiously. It dripped. She knew it was fresh blood before she even looked down.
"What is-"
Santana's free hand touched Brittany's forearm and shook her head for silence. The pool of blood on the stairs was only the beginning. The blood traveled along their same path up to the center of the chamber. Brittany felt Santana's fingers slid up her bicep and tightened. Without saying a word, Brittany side-stepped the blood and broke from Santana's side. The wide berth of the ceremonial stone stairs allowed her quite a bit of space between herself and Santana. Brittany tore her eyes away from the blood trail to glance to her companion. Santana's eyes were intently focused. Her arms were tense. She had only drawn one sword, but her right hand hovered over the hilt of the second.
As they crested the platform, the dark rivers of blood thickened. Streams ran through the cracks in the stone and in rivulets. Both sets of eyes followed the flow to the large tomb at the center altar.
A soft gasp escaped Brittany's lips.
"By Talos..." Santana whispered. She had expected resistance from the final thief, not this.
By the Divines, she would have never expected this.
Pinned to the front of the ornate burial tomb, Brennah, the scarred face rogue, hung suspended a few inches from the ground. His head rolled over his chest and his legs sagged beneath him. His body should have been flat on the floor. But three golden talons of a great dragon claw had impaled him straight through to the stone. Blood soaked through his clothes and dripped to the floor. Brittany quickly noticed a blood drenched cloth wrapped around his left leg where Santana had injured him with her arrow, but the wound hadn't contributed to his death. The claw which had granted him access to the chamber had ended his life.
By the look in Santana's eyes, Brittany didn't have to question. The dragon claw was the one stolen from her family. Brittany took a step closer. Whatever had killed him had been powerful and dangerous. The claw was much larger than she envisioned it. Brittany had thought it would be a trinket, but by the size of it, the claw could have easily belonged to a real dragon and dipped in gold. Her bright eyes skimmed the surface of the blood covered stone to the tomb he had been impaled upon. Her heart hammered in her chest. She gripped the axe tighter in her hand and took a step closer. Santana had already cleared the distance. She bent over Brennah's body. She had yet to touch the claw. The violence that had driven the gilded talons through his chest had a sinister taboo upon the object. Brittany took a step closer, but remained mindful or her surroundings. She didn't want to leave Santana exposed while she retrieved her family's heirloom.
The ground started to vibrate.
Brittany stopped.
It did more than vibrate. Brittany felt a deep tugging from the core of her body. It resonated from within and drew her from without.
She tried to take another step to Santana, but she couldn't summon the will power - a much greater force called. Couldn't she feel it? Brittany opened her mouth, but no words exited.
Never one for fear or trepidation, Santana stretched her bare fingers out and glided down the long wrist of the gold scales. Warm, red stains smeared. He hadn't been dead very long. Softly, Santana grasped the claw. Withdrawing it proved more difficult than she imagined. It stuck. The points had been driven into the tomb behind his back. Santana dropped her swords and gripped the claw with two hands as she yanked with all her strength. Chips of stone crumbled to the floor. Once released from the stone, the claw tore free from his chest.
The golden talons dripped in her hand. The thief's body collapsed to the floor. He had been right - he would not die by her hand, but Santana worried about the hand that had killed him. She flipped the claw upside down. It still bore the same marks she remembered touching as a child.
Bear. Moth. Owl.
Perhaps she should have allowed the thief to keep the claw. He still would have met his end and her family would have been relieved of the cursed object. Red colored the animals. Carefully, she pulled a cloth from her pack and wrapped the claw. She collected her swords and stood up. At least she wouldn't return home empty-handed; not that her family would appreciate the effort.
Return home.
Brittany.
She had almost completely forgotten about Brittany while retrieving the golden claw. Now that she had completed her task, there was nothing that bound them together.
"Brittany?" Santana questioned. The blonde Nord had disappeared. She had been standing right there. "Brittany?"
Where could she have gone? A jolt of alarm ran through her body. Santana raised her swords. Her eyes quickly scanned the elevated platform area. This was the worst possible time for bird-kin to get flighty and play with some traps. Did she not see what happened to Brennah? Whatever killed him could still be lurking. Santana turned around in a tight circle, but came to a sudden halt. In the distance, blonde hair caught the wind. It bellowed behind Brittany's back and beneath her helm. Brittany's legs struggled with every step. She walked stiffly and her motions were constrained. Even more strange, she hadn't responded to any of the times Santana had called her.
"Brittany!"
Nothing.
"Dovekin!" She tried.
Still nothing.
What in Talos's name was she doing?
Uneasy, Santana took a step forward to follow.
The wind that had been steadily running through the chamber changed drastically. A bitter chill rose unnaturally from the ground. Frost crept up her armor from the tip of her boots and spread like spider webs over her light armor. It settled deep in her bones and constricted her muscles beneath her layers of deer skin and steel. Santana gasped as the cold clutched her insides. It was stronger than the Draugr's unnatural chill - this was ancient, powerful magicka. Santana struggled, but she could sense the cold seizing her body. She twitched her fingers and looked up. Brittany was still walking in a daze completely unaffected by the paralyzing cold.
"Br-" The syllable barely escaped her lips. "Brit-" A small puff of white air slipped between her chattering teeth. Just when she thought she would never feel blood flowing through her body again, the cold dispelled.
Santana hunched over and took heaping gulps of air. Her legs shook uncontrollably. The ground beneath her feet rumbled. Ripples formed in the pools of blood at her feet. The sound of stone grinding against stone set every hair on the back of her neck to stand straight. Santana fought off the lingering effects of the supernatural cold and grasped her swords. The heavy lid of the tomb split in half and crashed to the floor. Santana's boots slid over Brennah's blood as she leaped away from the tomb and spread her feet. Her swords rose as did her eyes.
Towering above her, a Draugr Overlord emerged from the tomb.
Santana inched back.
With no way of confirming, Santana knew without a doubt, this was the creature that had killed the thief. An Overlord could have easily driven the golden claw through flesh and bones deep into Brennah's chest. Santana's eyes drifted upward. The Overlord was a full head taller than the Draugr they had encountered. His armor had been impeccably preserved in the ornate tomb. In his hands, he wielded a curved blade with a wicked dark edge and composed of ebony, a material stronger than steel. It shimmered a light blue in the darkness revealing that it indeed bore an enchantment.
Their eyes locked.
His jaw dropped. His rotten teeth hung from his decayed skull. The ground shook once more as if he was summoning power from the very stone beneath their boots. It would be too late to break for cover. Santana braced herself. The Overlord's shoulders pinched and flew back. The ribbons of flesh that hung from his ribs cage puffed as he sucked in the cold Skyrim air. She crossed her swords just in time. The great Draugr pushed his entire chest forward and bellowed. The force knocked he back. Her boots slipped in the blood. Frost tips formed in the short distance between them. Sharp bits of ice bit into her exposed skin. The tips of her hair frozen. She closed her eyes and tried to protect herself as best she could.
The stream of ice cut off.
Santana didn't hesitate.
She opened. The Overlord lunged from the tomb. His greatsword raised high above his head.
Quick right. Back drop. Drop. Roll left.
The greatsword cut into the stone where Santana had been standing. The Overlord immediately freed the blade and swiped at her again. Santana barely blocked the blade. He was much faster than the Draugr they had previously encountered. The force of his attack rocked her back. She tried to avoid his next attack, but he swung the greatsword with such speed, she had to block it.
Snap.
The blade of her right sword snapped in half. Santana barely fell back quick enough to avoid the completion of the Overlord's attack.
Pulse. Pulse. Pulse.
Beat. Beat. Beat.
Every step. Every step. Every step.
It called. It called. It called.
It pulsed. It pulsed. It pulsed.
It beat. It beat. It beat.
Her chest ached and her fingers vibrated.
Its ancient power demanded her presence.
With every step the pulse of the ground shook harder and called her forward. Every beat of her heart mirrored the beat of a lost hymn; a broken chant that had long been forgotten. Its song flooded her body and though she did not know the words, it was as if the thread of her soul had been woven in its harmonies; the words had been gilded to the marrow of her bones.
Parry. Roll. Run. Dodge. Dagger. Dagger. Dagger. Santana threw the last of her daggers with force. Like the previous two daggers, it stuck in the center of the Overlord's chest as if it was nothing. She was running out of options. Her breath was coming in short pants. The Draugr continued advancing. Santana glanced to the body of Brennah on the floor. She feared she would meet the same fate as the thief if the Overlord got too close. The petite brunette jumped back once more.
The Draugr reared his head in frustration. Unable to physically match Santana's speed, his jaw dislodged and he opened his mouth once more. Santana's eyes widened as she recognized the move. The air around the burial chamber dropped by degrees as he once again drew on ancient magicka. Santana quickly sought a way to defend herself.
The standard of Whiterun lay abandoned only a few feet away. Never fond of Whiterun's rather blase approach to politics, Santana had no time to reconsider her options. She launched her body across the stone. Her knees scrapped the hard surface and her armor jostled from the impact. The Overlord released ancient words carried on magickally imbued frost that split the air. Santana reached the horse and lifted the shield in time to block the attack. She stayed low behind the rim of steel which encircled the symbol of Whiterun. Chips of frost bit into the wood of the shield and splinters flew past Santana's face, but the horse held against the Draugr's brutal assault.
Santana's heart was pounding. She didn't know how much longer she would last against a foe like this.
Her dark eyes dared to glance back.
Each footstep made the pounding increase. Each breath echoed the cries of long dead warriors and creatures unknown. The markings on the stone shimmered so radiantly they cast everything else in the crypt out of focus. The edges of her vision blurred - except the markings. They looked like deep cuts in the wall. They should have been indecipherable. But they felt so familiar. Brittany stretched her hand out. The lights enveloped her fingers.
And she knew.
Or maybe it knew her.
The word transferred from the stone and chiseled its power in her heart.
The room was spinning.
Her breath shortened.
The blurred edges expanded.
What was happening?
With one swing, he shattered the shield of Whiterun. Wood splintered into the air and cut into her wrists around her guards. Pieces of wood dug into her fingers. She was out of breath and barely managed to get her sword up in time to stop a life ending blow to her neck. Santana defended again and again. He was slowly chipping away at the space between them.
The Overlord lifted his sword once more.
She would die a warrior. With the last of her strength, she thrust her sword forward. Her whole body drove the blade.
It stopped.
Skeletal hands clutched the sword and held it completely still. Santana struggled to release the Overlord's grip, but he was too strong.
His free hand darted to her unprotected throat. The icy touch of his grasp sent uncontrollable shivers coursing through her body. Santana kicked at his chest and jerked at the sword, but to no avail. His grip tightened as he lifted her from the ground. She released the hilt of the sword and batted at his wrists trying to break free. Her feet dangled and kicked suspended in the air.
Air.
She sucked in another breath, but was obstructed by his skeletal clutch.
Air.
It was getting harder. Santana finally gave up trying to fight his grip. She reached up. His grip tightened. He was crushing her windpipe. If she could just-
air.
-release-
air
air
air
She should have been more confused. She had no idea what was happening, but it felt so right. Brittany could feel the word on the stone living inside of her. Its power coursed through every fiber of her being. Her blurred vision suddenly expanded and covered every inch of the burial chamber in brilliant lights. Her vision sharpened, but she only saw one thing.
Santana.
She didn't know what she was doing or if she understood what was going on, but the word inside her pounded against her rib cages and filled her lungs. It had to be released. The word pressed against her insides and all the power that had been contained inside of her bellowed out in an unrelenting force of power.
"Fus!"
A powerful gust of air swept through the crypt and cracked the stone floor all the way across the platform in their direction. Santana managed to close her eyes right as Brittany's attack collided with the Draugr. It sent them both flying through the air. She hit the side of the tomb. The shock of the impact and her lack of oxygen prevented her from making a successful attempt to stand. She sucked in gulps of air. Her vision was hazy and her head was swimming. She could taste blood in her mouth and blood dripping down her forehead.
What in Talos name had Brittany done?
Struggling, Santana raised her head to watch the blonde fight. Brittany had closed the gap to the Overlord and brandished her axe. Their weapons clashed. They both jumped back only to attack each other once more. Another gale of force swept through the corridor. The Overlord staggered backward and dropped his defense for a moment. Brittany took advantage and pressed. Her swing broke through his weak defense. The blade cut through his armor and appeared to hurt him more than any of Santana's attacks. How was Brittany able to weaken the Overlord when Santana could barely agitate him?
Brittany opened her mouth and Shouted the same word. "Fus!"
No. It couldn't be. Santana shook her head in disbelief. It couldn't be true and it couldn't be this woman. A lump caught in her throat. Another wave of power rocked the crypt from Brittany's Shout. It shouldn't be possible and yet with every Shout, Santana couldn't deny what Brittany was.
How could she have been so foolish? Brittany hadn't said Dovekin.
Another Shout burst through the crypt.
Dovahkiin
The Overlord dropped to a knee after the last fury from Brittany's advance. Without hesitation, Brittany grunted as she heaved the blade of her axe into the exposed portion of the Overlord's neck. The axe stuck. She twisted. The snap of bone echoed. The unnatural icy eyes of the Draugr dimmed and finally extinguished. Brittany wrenched her weapon free and stood up straight over the dead body. She was panting hard from the exertion. She looked over to Santana.
For the first time since they had crossed blades, Brittany's expression was guarded. She was unsure of Santana. Even more so, Brittany was unsure of herself. The pinch of her shoulders and the lines in her forehead revealed the bubbling tension she had been hiding. Her bright blue eyes contrasted drastically from the malicious cold of their defeated foe. There were emotions Santana had never expected racing through Brittany's expression. She was waiting for Santana.
Santana opened her mouth but no words came out.
And then she saw what Brittany had been guarding so fiercely in her eyes - fear.
Behind the great stone etched wall where Brittany had read the ancient word Fus, they had found a staircase built into the stone. They walked in silence. Each of them nursed wounds and injuries. Some were quite visible. Others had been buried. They took their time. It felt like the danger had passed and they would be able to leave the crypt without further incidence.
Brittany had long released her axe and pressed against the walls for help standing. Her body felt drained and tired from the fighting and from Shouting. It wasn't the first time she had unleashed the dragon language, but she still hadn't become accustomed to the power. Worse, she hadn't become accustomed to other people's reactions.
Santana hadn't said a word.
She didn't have to.
Brittany had seen the look in her face after she Shouted.
Perhaps they should have parted earlier. It would have avoided this strange tension between them.
The staircase ended and opened to a small cutout in the underground. There was nowhere to go. No door or lock and key. Brittany glanced to the floor to check for pressure plates like the ones in the trap corridor. Nothing.
How could they move forward?
Brittany dared to glance back at Santana. The dark haired warrior was pacing. Her boots clicked on the stone at an agitated rate. Apparently, she was unconcerned they were trapped in the crypt. She had other things on her mind. She kept her head down. Her conflicted thoughts shown in the creases on her face and the lines of her brows. She was wrestling with herself and whether she should finally say the word that had been gnawing at her since she saw Brittany Shout.
Without decorum, Santana blurted out. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?" Brittany asked trying to feign innocence. She knew exactly why Santana had been acting so strangely since she had defeated the Overlord.
Santana's dark eyes darted up and made blistering contact. "That you're the Dovahkiin."
A sharp wind swept through the chamber. A shiver ran down her body. Brittany hung her head. She hadn't come to terms with being the Dovahkiin herself. It happened too fast and she hadn't had time to properly process. It all still felt like a dream.
Weakly, she protested. "I did."
"No. You said Dovekin." Santana bit fiercely into Brittany's defense.
"I mean...they're kinda close."
"Kinda close?" Santana rolled her eyes. What was she doing? This was the the Dovahkiin. There had been rumors all through the city. Someone had been summoned. Even worse, there had been rumors circulating about a dragon in Helgen. There were reports of dragons from the far south and the east. Santana just hadn't expected any of them to be true. Civil war was brewing. Armies were gathering. Dragons and Dovahkiins were meant to inspire more paranoia and fear in the people. They weren't supposed to be real.
By Talos and the Divines, they weren't supposed to be real.
Brittany wasn't supposed to be real.
Santana shook her head in anger. "You made a fool of me."
"It wasn't my-"
"You read the dragon language on the word wall. That's why you came into the crypt. You knew exactly what you were looking for. You lied to me. You used the Thu'um. You Shouted. You defeated that Overlord like it was nothing." Santana quickly interjected. Her head was still spinning. "And you made me call you Dovekin like an idiot!"
"Santana, I didn't know how to say it." Brittany tried to defend herself. "And I didn't know if I should tell you because of this – I didn't know how you'd react. I don't know how anyone would react. I don't know how to react myself!" Brittany shrugged and sighed. "It's all so new. I don't know what I'm doing. I didn't even know there was a 'word wall' or whatever you called it or what Thu'um is. I've never really Shouted before – not like that. It just came out. I don't even know if I could do it again."
But she could.
Brittany felt the word inside her chest waiting to fill her lungs.
"You didn't know about the word wall?"
"No." Brittany answered truthfully.
"And you used the Thu'um, but don't even know that's what the dragon language is called?"
"I guess." Brittany rubbed at her arm and pushed back her hair. Every question made Brittany feel like the real fool. Santana knew more about Brittany than Brittany knew about herself. "I wasn't trying to play you for a fool. I really had no idea why I was sent down here. I didn't know I would find that word-" She could still feel the residual power from the wall coursing through her body. "-I'm sorry if I misled you."
Santana swallowed hard and turned away. She closed her eyes. It still didn't make any sense. She had so many questions and thoughts, but all she could think of was the implications. By all the Divines, she had not expected this when she travelled after the thieves. What was she going to do? What could she do? Should she part with Brittany now knowing what and who she was? Brittany had misled her before, how could Santana trust her again?
Whatever had transpired between them in the few hours they had spent together, Brittany felt inexplicably drawn to her companion. They would have to part now. There could be no recourse. Withholding her identity had been a poor decision around a woman like Santana.
"If it makes you feel better, you can still call me Dovekin." Brittany suggested with a nervous smile.
Santana had been so focused on her own thoughts, that when she heard Brittany's suggestion, she could hardly believe the words. "Still call you Dovekin?" It was so simple. She rolled her eyes. It cut through her deep thoughts and conflicting emotions. Before she could keep a hold onto her anger, a smile stole all her fury. Santana glanced up. Brittany's eyes were open. They were begging for a second chance. They were so soft and asking for something Santana couldn't quite identify. But the tug in her chest told Santana that she would be willing to give Brittany whatever she wanted. Was it possible to regret a decision before it was made?
What in Talos's name was she doing?
Santana said nothing aloud, but turned away.
When Santana refused to respond, Brittany cocked her head in confusion. Did this mean they were okay?
Santana moved to the torch on the wall at the end of the staircase. A metal chain dangled from the holder. She yanked on it once. The holder released. The wall that had blocked their passage forward groaned and parted to reveal a secret door. Brittany's eyes darted from the door to the chain to Santana in disbelief. "How did you know to do that?"
"You should be related to birds. You couldn't find your way out of here without me."
"So does this mean we're good now?"
Santana lifted her head, full of pride and unbendable will. "I'm not sure what we are."
"But we are something?" A glimmer of hope lined the blonde's voice.
"We'll see, Dovekin."
The sides of Brittany's smile brightened and her eyes widened. Santana rolled her eyes once more and tried not to share Brittany's genuine enthusiasm. She had no clue what she was doing, but this was bigger than her pride or – Brittany's flashed another smile before she turned to continue down the corridor- the way she couldn't help returning Brittany's smile.
Dovahkiin
Santana couldn't forget how powerful Brittany's Shout had thrown her and the Overlord.
Dovahkiin
Rumors of dragons, civil war, and the Dovahkiin was a woman who didn't know the difference between a torch holder and a door opener.
She followed behind the blonde through the last corridor. The winds around them had shifted once more. The air tasted sweeter and the bitter cold seemed fresher. The corridor inclined to another opening. Moonlight filtered through cracks in the stone and where the angle could hit the hallway perfectly. Eventually the torches grew further and further apart until they stopped. Natural light guided their footsteps. As they broke through the cavern to a back door of the crypt, the moonlight enveloped their bodies.
Brittany broke through stone door first. With no regard to their surroundings or if there could be danger, she emerged from the crypt carefree and laughing.
Santana watched with rapt fascination. Brittany tossed the half-helm from her head to the snow on the ground. Her blonde hair whipped around in the wind and her smile rivaled the moon for brightness. Santana swallowed hard. She lingered at the stone overhang where they had emerged from the depths of the crypt. Just like she graced over stone and bones, Brittany's steps in the snow were unhindered. They were light and fleeting. She barely made a mark in the fresh powder of snow on the mountainside. Her axe dropped to the snow followed by her pack and her belt. Her light steel gauntlets settled onto the ground. Brittany's shoulders rolled with ease now that she had freed herself from most of her armaments. The straps of her breastplate loosened. Her fingers tugged at knots. Santana wondered if Brittany consciously knew what she was doing. Even if she did know she was disarming, Santana had a feeling Brittany didn't care. All her motions seemed so natural. The urge to join her grew stronger. What would it feel like to just take it all off and dance in the moonlight after an excursion into the depths of Skyrim's darkest pits?
Santana remained against the stone. Her arms crossed with the weight of the world while Brittany tilted her head up to the sky.
"It feels like we've been in there for days." Brittany noticed her companion hadn't joined her. Not one to shy away, Brittany quirked an inquisitive eye brow in Santana's direction. Teasing, she suggested. "Unless you liked it down there."
"I'm just as pleased to get away from the stench of corpses and urns as you are."
"Then why aren't you out here celebrating with me?" Brittany smiled and took another step away from the overhang.
"I'm enjoying the view from here." Santana said without thinking. Brittany's eyes focused sharply for the first time since they had exited the crypt. A tinge of red graced Santana's cheeks; she quickly added. "It's not often one gets to see a caged bird go free."
Santana's response must have pleased her companion. Blonde hair flew back into the wind as Brittany laughed to the two moons above them. For some reason, Santana felt pleased her answer had amused Brittany so much. The red in her cheeks grew darker. She attempted to cover her good mood by shifting her attention to a task. "It's too dark to make our way down the mountain. We might as well set up camp here and we can decide what we will do in the morning."
The mention of morning reminded them both that their paths were to lead different ways. Crestfallen, Brittany nodded and started to gather her belongings from the ground. Santana hadn't meant to stop Brittany's good humor, but they couldn't dance around on the mountain all night. Frostbite was only the beginning for an unprepared traveler exposed to the elements during Skyrim's freezing nights. One could quickly deteriorate even on a night as beautiful as this. They moved efficiently with little room for words between them. Santana didn't say much. Brittany was quick to pick up body language and anticipate Santana's needs before she vocalized them. She had gathered a sizeable stack of dry wood from the mountainside. Santana had unrolled her pack and pulled out a spare bedding from her gear for Britt. The fire underneath the overhang created a warm haven. Santana poked at the embers and added another piece of kindling. The fire wouldn't be going out anytime soon. There was no game this far up the mountain and she hadn't seen traces of small animals. The only food they could share was dried meat and cheese she had packed. It was better than nothing.
Brittany had been gone for longer this time.
Curious, Santana stood from the fire and pulled her cloak tight around her shoulders. It had only grown darker. Late at night, the moonlight did a poor job illuminating the dark mountainside. A few paces away, Santana spotted her mysterious companion standing. Her eyes were turned up to the night sky. Santana slowed her steps. Brittany was no longer dancing or reveling in freedom. This was intimate. Cautious of disturbing Brittany's thoughts, Santana approached as quietly as possible. The wind whipped around the edge of her cloak as if to ward her away from Brittany, but Santana ignored its chilling bite.
As Santana stood abreast of Brittany, she noticed Brittany had already been smiling. Obviously Brittany had heard her approach. Chagrined for trying to be stealthy, Santana asked. "What are you doing out here? I have the fire going and a bit of food. Nothing fresh, but it will take the chill off."
Brittany didn't turn away from the sky. Her eyes were drawn to the blinking lights. "I was just admiring the stars."
"And you can't admire the stars normally?" Santana rolled her eyes. "What? They don't have stars from where you're from?"
"Sure we have stars, but they seem closer from here." Brittany's smile had yet to dim. She pointed up. Unable to help herself, Santana followed her finger. "And some stars seem brighter tonight than they ever have."
"What do you mean?"
"Well there-" She found the star she had been gazing upon intently. "-that's the base of the two-handed great sword. It's the first time I've been able to see it clearly. I think it must be an omen or a sign that I did well with my axe today."
Santana scoffed and shook her head. "Please tell me you don't believe those old wives tales that you can increase your skills just by looking at the sky."
"Wives tales?" Shocked at Santana's careless dismissal of the stars, Brittany broke away from the sky to face her companion. "My mother once told me that everything we have to learn, we can learn from the stars. Have you never traced your life in the sky?"
"No. I have no need. I learned all I need to know from proper instruction with a blade. I certainly didn't learn from standing out in the middle of the cold night and waving my fingers through the air like a madman." Santana pulled her cloak closer and pursed her lips, but immediately stopped. The Overlord had split her lip with a nasty backhand to her face during the fight. It hurt to even talk. "It would, however, explain your strange way of handling a blade and your unorthodox fighting technique if you learned how to fight from playing astronomer instead of actually learning how to fight."
Brittany ignored Santana's light jabs. Instead, she smiled softly. "Do you know where the bow and arrow rest?"
"Of course." Santana puffed out a sigh of agitation at the simple question. "It lies next to the one-handed sword." She pointed to the visible stars of the bow without thought. Every child of Skyrim knew the constellations and their placement.
Brittany smiled. "Remember when you shot that thief, Brennah, in the middle of that skirmish with the Draugr? That took a great deal of skill I wish I possessed with a bow. I've never been able to find those stars. Thank you for showing them to me."
"It doesn't mean anything."
"Perhaps." Brittany shrugged undeterred by Santana's skepticism. "But maybe I won't be such a poor shot the next time I try."
Santana didn't know whether she should admire Brittany's blind faith or question her strange outdated beliefs. "I doubt you could stand still long enough to string a bow, much less fire one." The side of Santana's mouth pulled back in a smirk. Brittany turned and caught the indent of her dimples and the light of the stars reflecting in Santana's eyes. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather eat something and sit next to a fire than spend my night gazing at the stars."
"You don't know what you're missing."
"I'll take my chances. Have fun with your stars." Santana threw her hands up dramatically as if she were done with Brittany's foolishness.
Brittany caught her right hand.
Santana stopped.
The worn leather gloves protecting Brittany's hand felt smooth against Santana's bare skin. Her eyes darted up. Once again Brittany took liberties Santana didn't relinquish easily. Her voice cracked. "What are you doing?"
"You're injured." Brittany stated as if it was obvious why they should be touching at this moment. She quickly shed her gloves. Warmth spread through her fingers. Brittany batted her eyes and tried not to say out loud what her whole body knew. Santana was warm, indescribably warm.
"I wouldn't have been so injured if my companion hadn't been stone gazing." Santana fidgeted in Brittany's grasp. She could feel the tiny cuts the splinted shield had ripped into her hand and forearms. Santana could barely feel the cuts, not when Brittany was holding her hand so tenderly. "Star gazing – stone gazing, seems to be a problem with you –" She paused. Her pride had still not recovered from Brittany's deception. Stubbornly, she called her. "-Dovekin."
"I didn't mean to leave you to battle by yourself. I had little control over what I was doing." But she had total control over what she was doing now. Light blossomed beneath Brittany's fingers and spread from her hands to Santana. Magicka flowed between them. It felt stronger; the strength of flow more even than before. The small cuts mended. The torn skin and abrasions up and down her arms lightened in color and eventually faded away completely.
But she wasn't done yet.
Brittany took a step closer. Her fingers retained the healing glow. She brushed the back of her hand against Santana's cheek. The cut on her forehead lessened and healed completely. Like before, a wave of rejuvenation washed over Santana's body. Brittany found Santana's eyes and cupped her chin. There was something so familiar in their dark depths. It was as if she had known Santana since the creation of Nirn. She felt the wind that had been guiding her journey beat against their bodies like a warning, a call away from Santana's eyes, but Brittany ignored the tug and pull.
The softest gasp escaped Santana's lips as Brittany's thumb drew across her mouth. The cut in her lip tingled as Brittany's magicka reconnected the soft tissue and pulsed beneath the surface of her skin. The connection between them strengthened and Santana's breathing shortened. She didn't know when Brittany stopped the healing, but eventually she realized Brittany's fingers were no longer glowing, but they also hadn't moved away. The calloused pad of Brittany's thumb ran along Santana's smooth lips.
A shudder ran down the back of Santana's neck at the prolonged contact.
"Thank you – " Each word brought a new sensation as her lips moved against Brittany's thumb. A shiver of excitement and anticipation reverberated through her body as she said her name. "-Brittany."
Brittany's smile was softer at the sound of her name from Santana's lips. She pulled back with reluctance.
"Tomorrow-" Santana blurted out. Softer, she repeated. "Tomorrow, when we part, do you return to the one who sent you here?"
The wind pushed at her cloak harder and harder. Brittany didn't have to turn into the darkness to know if she squinted hard enough, she would see the outline of a distant mountain calling her back.
"Yes."
Santana nodded before Brittany had finished the word. She had known the answer, but it didn't settle well with the warrior.
"Perhaps you'd be inclined to join me until I reach my family's house. They would be insulted if they could not thank the woman who helped me retrieve the dragon claw." Santana's heart beat faster the more she talked. "I promise it won't delay you for very long."
The wind howled and picked up speed.
Brittany could feel nothing but the invitation in Santana's offer.
"I would be honored." She was smiling brighter than she had when they exited the backside of the mountain. "I doubt a quick stop to your house will delay me too much."
Any delay with Santana would be worth it.
End 1.2