Supper with Hadvar was surprisingly pleasant.
They went to the Sleeping Giant Inn and were greeted warmly by everyone present, including the owner, who stood behind the bar. Hadvar made the rounds, and greeted everyone individually before they settled at a table near the door.
Since Danica's mind wasn't on food, and since she didn't know the first thing about the food in Riverwood, she let Hadvar order for her. Minutes later, a plate of seared slaughterfish, grilled leeks, and a baked potato sat before her. She smiled at Hadvar, and he beamed back at her in response.
"My favorites," she said. It smelled delicious, like something her father might have made for her.
"I hoped you would like them," he said, his smile still in place as he poked at his own plate absently. "Slaughterfish is my favorite, too."
Danica dug in eagerly. She wasn't good at small talk, and she'd learned that the easiest way to avoid it was to fill your mouth so nobody expected you to talk. (And when they did, well, some deliberate mumbling and a display of half-chewed food usually took care of that.) It didn't hurt that she was actually excited for the food.
But Hadvar was willing to fill the silence, and rather than expecting her to answer, he kept talking. It was sort of charming, and she found herself thinking about him rather than his Uncle and her plot for the first time all evening. It was clear that he was used to the quiet type.
"I grew up here," he had said. That much, at least, was obvious by the way people greeted him. Like an old friend. Someone they knew well. "Lived with my Uncle Alvor through most of my childhood. I know everyone here. It's hard to be away as much as the Imperial Army requires me to be."
"And Ralof?" Danica asked, drawn in despite herself. "He was in the cart with me. You know him?"
The smile disappeared from Hadvar's face.
"Yes, I knew him once."
The silence that fell was quickly unbearable. Danica began to talk. Partially by way of apology, but also because Hadvar was just one of those people who you talk to without knowing exactly why.
"I grew up in Cyrodiil," Danica began, half wondering why she was speaking at all. "In a small town on the outskirts of the Imperial City. My father and brothers all fight for the Imperial Army. They were away from home a lot, too." She smiled bitterly as she recalled her childhood. Bright spots of happiness when her father was home were shadowed by dark misery when she was alone with her mother. "It's not easy being the child of a soldier."
"No. It's not easy leaving the ones you love behind, either." This time, Hadvar's smile was bitter, and Danica wondered who he was talking about. Whether it was just Alvor and Sigrid, or whether he had someone else. Her gut twisted a little at that thought.
"I don't imagine that's much easier."
"No."
"Well," Danica said after another stretch of silence. "This conversation has taken a rather depressing turn. Tell me about something happy." She searched about in her mind for a better topic, before floundering. "What did you get for winter solstice last year?"
Hadvar laughed, his mood clearly better, whether because of good memories, or because he found her struggle amusing, she couldn't say.
"Socks," he said.
"Socks?"
"Sigrid knitted me socks."
"Sounds like a splendid gift," Danica said, wondering if Sigrid would have knit socks for her out of nettles. The woman didn't seem to have a kind bone in her body, but apparently she cared enough for her nephew to make him... socks.
"It might have been, if I had ever gotten to wear them." He smiled distantly for a moment before continuing. "I ended up giving them to someone who needed them more than I did."
"Wow."
"Yeah..." Hadvar shrugged. "The Emperor provides me with everything I need. Even smallclothes and... socks. There are others who are not so fortunate."
"Like who?" Danica leaned forward, supper forgotten.
"I-" Hadvar blushed and looked away. "I can't say."
"Hah," Danica grinned and propped her chin upon her fist, leaning toward the soldier and hanging upon his every word without even realizing it. "You gave them to your lover?"
"I-" He still couldn't meet her eyes, and if it were possible, he blushed even darker. "I don't, uh. I don't have anyone like that."
Danica squashed the feeling of triumph. She was not here to collect men like some girls back home. Hadvar was not for her. He was not. "Then who?"
"An old friend."
She didn't know what to make of that. There didn't seem to be anyone here who was not an old friend, and though she supposed it was possible Hadvar was trying to spare the pride of someone who was too poor to afford basic clothing, she had a feeling this was about more than that. She had a feeling that it was personal. She wanted to pry, but this was not the time. She had only known the man a few days, and this was one of their first real conversations.
"Sounds... hm." She finally managed.
"Yeah.
"So-"
"So," Danica began at the same moment. They both laughed awkwardly. "Oh, uh, you go first."
"Uh," He seemed struck with a case of nerves. It was really rather cute to have a warrior blushing because of her. "Do you have a place to stay tonight?"
"Well..." Danica hesitated. She didn't. Not really. She supposed the cot at Alvor's was still an option, but she wasn't sure she could bear it, and at ten gold a night, the rooms here were beyond her means. She supposed she could bed down in a pile of hay somewhere, she'd done it before and had no doubt she'd do it again.
"Ah," Hadvar seemed to understand what she couldn't say. He seemed to understand far too much. It made her feel bare, as though he could see right through her. "I've got a tent at the edge of town, and I drew night watch. You could sleep there." He offered.
She couldn't think of a good reason not to accept. He was generous, and kinder to her than she deserved. Tonight, at least, she would take him up on his offer. Tomorrow, she would figure something else out.
