A/N:

I apologize if the pacing seems a bit slow, but this isn't really much of an action story. It's meant to show how these two characters came together, and how their relationship evolves over the course of a few days. I'm a big fan of the slow build up, personally, so that's what you'll be seeing here.

And, yes, three days in a row. I've caught the writing bug and am reveling in it.

Thanks again for reading!

It didn't take Belrand long to realize that this journey might take a bit longer than he'd planned. It seemed to him that Riley was hell bent on stuffing every twig, weed, seed, flower and berry they passed into her satchel. He was pretty sure that she had even stuffed a mushroom and a couple of bird eggs in there, as well. One thing he was positive about; there was no way he was letting her cook any food for him. The thought of what it would be like to have someone like Riley to come home to in the evening started drifting through his head. Stew bubbling on the fire, little red-headed children running around underfoot...

Whoa there, he thought. Where the hell is all this coming from? Despite being in his thirties, Belrand had never married, or even really come close. There'd just never seemed to be time to for it, what with him being gone for days or weeks, occasionally even months, at a time on jobs. Sure, he'd gotten to know plenty of beautiful women, but none of them had really seemed right to him. None of them had made him want to change his lifestyle for something more sedentary. The very thought of it made him shudder a little.

Willfully shoving daydreams of domestic life out of his head, he brought his focus back to Riley and his desire to find out more about what had brought her to Skyrim. "So, are you some sort of alchemist?"

She paused in her frantic, jumping attempts to catch a passing butterfly and looked back at him, smiling broadly. "Yes! As a matter of fact, I am," she replied, finally catching the insect and ripping off its wings. Belrand winced a bit and watched her stuff those in with the mushrooms and eggs. Definitely no cooking for her.

"Potions, mainly," she continued to explain. "But I have occasionally dabbled with poisons. I don't really like making them, though. They tend to smell bad and are more likely to blow up in your face. Literally." Belrand found he was nodding as if he had personally experienced what she spoke of. Of course, he hadn't. Alchemy had never been an interest of his, other than using the occasional healing potion when he got wounded in a fight. Still, he was starting to put the pieces together.

"So, is that what you plan to do here? To support yourself, I mean," he asked.

She stopped scrabbling for ingredients, twirling the bunch of orange wildflowers she'd been amassing. He saw something flash across her eyes, pain and sadness, then she blinked and it was gone.

"It's all I know how to do, really. We… I had thought that perhaps with the war going on, health potions and the like would be in greater demand," she answered, fidgeting with her bouquet before shoving it in her sack with everything else. It was clearly hard for her to talk about, and Belrand almost felt bad for asking. Nevertheless, he found his curiosity rising.

"I'm not meaning to pry, dove, but do you want to talk about it? I, ah, don't know if you remember, but you told me that your father had passed on…"

She looked surprised for a moment, and then smirked wryly, "That mead is dangerous stuff, isn't it?" He laughed and nodded at her, before she continued. "There isn't much to talk about, really. Da, well, he was a good man, but not a very practical one. We'd been on the brink of losing our house for unpaid taxes when he received word about this cottage in Skyrim a cousin had bequeathed him. Why him, I'll never know. He'd never spoken of this relative before, never spoken of any relatives, really."

"What about your mother and her family?"

"Mama died when I was just a baby," she paused, taking in his expression. "It's ok! I don't remember her. It's hard to miss someone you don't remember. But there it is, all the same. That's where my name came from. It was her favorite flower."

"It's a beautiful name," he said, and she winced, shaking her head. He laughed before continuing. "Did you have no one else though? What about her family?"

"Da was all I had, and I was all he had. He never really told me much about Mama's family, only that they'd never gotten along. I have nothing to really base this on, but I suspect her family didn't approve of their marriage. Daggerfall is always so full of court intrigue, it makes me wonder."

"Ah, yes. You Bretons and your intrigue," he teased, feeling something twist in his chest when she looked him straight in the eyes and smiled.

"You Nords and your furs," she countered, laughing when he self-consciously ran a hand down the front of his armor.

"Yes, we're quite proud of them, as well as our mead," he snickered when she shuddered. They settled into a comfortable silence as they traveled, soon passing through the settlement of Dragon Bridge. Belrand protested, but Riley insisted they stop for some lunch at the Four Shields Tavern before continuing.

"I know you didn't use my money this morning. I… I understand why you didn't, but I still don't feel right about it. I'm supposed to be paying you, not you paying for me. Let me at least buy us something decent to eat, while we have the chance," she argued. He gave in, knowing there was nothing else between here and the village of Rorikstead, and it had become clear they would not be reaching it until very late. She picked a table to wait for their food, and he settled in across from her.

"Do you want to talk about it some more? What happened to your father, I mean," he asked, hoping she wouldn't find the question rude, or think him to be overly prying. The truth was, the more he learned about her, the more he found he wanted to know. There was something about her… he couldn't put his finger on it, but something told him she was special. Whether that specialness was general or that she was special to him, well, he didn't want to think on that too much. They'd be parting ways in another day or so, there was no sense in getting attached.

As if she were just some stray you happened to pick up on the side of the road, he thought. Is that how you think it is? You're a fool, Belrand. A bloody fool.

Riley was surprised to find him so interested in her circumstances. While her experience with mercenaries was admittedly limited – limited to Belrand, in point of fact – she'd always imagined them to be aloof protectors, out to make gold and not friends. But, she discovered she was glad for the opportunity to talk about it.

"There really isn't that much to say," she sighed, before continuing. "When he found out about this house, he was convinced it was the solution to all our problems. There was no way we were going to be able to pull the tax money together to keep our home, so he just embraced this idea and ran with it," she paused as the innkeeper brought sandwiches and drinks to their table. She saw Belrand eye her glass of milk, and could see he was barely repressing the urge to laugh at her. She glared at him, but started laughing herself at his mock attempt at a serious face.

"Here in Skyrim we have a name for you people who can't hold your liquor," he explained. She raised an eyebrow at him, so he continued. "We call you, ah, milk-drinkers."

Riley burst out laughing. "Fair enough, I suppose. Honestly, though, how do you stand the stuff? It's cloyingly sweet."

"It's an acquired taste, I guess. Though, to be honest with you I'm more of an ale man myself," Belrand shrugged at her, and began digging into his lunch. He raised his eyes to hers, indicating he was still listening.

"Well, we had some time before our house was going to be taken, so he decided to use it selling off what we wouldn't be able to bring with us, which was just about everything in the end, and going out foraging. That was something Da always did; collecting my reagents and ingredients. Then I'd make the potions and he'd take them to market. Sometimes I'd go with him, but usually not," she elaborated.

"Anyway, it was during one of these foraging ventures that he took ill. He'd been complaining of being tired a few weeks prior, but it hadn't been anything major. But, during this particular trip out we had a cold snap, and whatever he'd been fighting off… well, I think it went into his lungs. I tried everything to make him better, but it just kept getting worse. He passed on a month later."

Riley had promised herself she wasn't going to cry about it anymore, but felt the tears starting to burn in her eyes, threatening to spill. Belrand didn't say anything, but reached across the table and took her hand, his thumb brushing over her fingers in a gesture of comfort. She took a deep breath, and kept going.

"I used most of what he'd saved for our trip to bury him. When they came to take possession of the house a few weeks later, I guess I just decided the hell with it. What did I have to lose, really? I had enough to get here, and I figured I'd work things out from there. So, here I am. Sitting here with you, drinking my milk," she let out a shaky breath and smiled at him. She realized he was still stroking her fingers, and carefully pulled her hand away and started to eat her sandwich. He brought his attention back to his own food, and the two continued to eat in silence.

Careful, Riley. Don't read anything into it that just isn't there. He's nice, he's handsome, and he seems like he's very caring, but this is just a job for him, she told herself.

"So," Belrand started, after they had finished eating and had been back on the road a while, "do you mind me asking a personal question? Well, I suppose I've been asking plenty of those already, haven't I?" Riley laughed, and gestured for him to continue. "Well, I'm wondering how old you are."

"Twenty-five, just this past month. Why?"

"No real reason, I guess. You look young, but you don't act it, so I was curious," he explained, and she rewarded him with a smile. He cleared his throat and continued. "How is it that you're not married?"

"I guess I just never thought about it," she laughed. "Well, that isn't true. Of course I thought about it, don't most girls?" He just shrugged, so she continued. "I suppose I just never had the opportunity to meet anyone special. I honestly didn't get out very much. Da was pretty protective of me, almost claustrophobically so. Honestly, one of the things I was most excited about moving here was the hope that it would finally give me a chance to get out on my own more. Meet people, learn new things. Kind of silly, I guess. What about you?"

"Oh, I meet plenty of new people, and I usually learn something new every day," he answered, grinning at her. She grinned back, but playfully swatted at his shoulder.

"That isn't what I meant, and you know it. How old are you? Why aren't you married? Or… are you married?" She was surprised at how much the idea that he could be stung. She knew it shouldn't matter to her, but it did.

"No, I'm not married. And I'm thirty-six, a ripe old man to someone as young and pretty as you. See? You can even find gray in my hair if you look close enough," he teased, bending over to shove his head in her face. She laughed and pushed him away, relieved. "Never really had reason to think about it, though. This line of work, it keeps a man busy. I don't suppose that I'd make a very good husband, even if I were inclined."

"Oh, I don't know about that," she replied, feeling a hot blush sweep across her cheeks when he stopped in his tracks and looked at her intently. "I mean, you're just… well, you're very sweet and...really protective…and…" she trailed off, thankful for the big boom of thunder that came rolling over them, saving her from her own embarrassing babble. The rain, which had never let up its soft sprinkle, began coming down harder. Belrand looked away from her and into the distance. She followed his gaze, and saw a dilapidated looking hut built on a fenced in hill.

"I need you to wait here on the road while I go take a peek," he explained to her.

"Are you sure? Maybe I should go with…"

"No," he cut her off. "This is why I'm here. There could be bandits in there. I'm just going to go check things out and see if it's safe." She chewed her lip and frowned, and he must have caught her worried expression, as he rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It'll be fine, I promise. I don't think the rain is going to ease up anytime soon, though, and this could be a good place to wait it out," he explained. She nodded, and let him go.

Standing there with her arms wrapped around her shoulders, she watched him head towards the encampment. She shivered as the cold rain picked up in intensity, blurring her view of him. Before long, she had lost sight of him completely. Trying not to panic, she tapped her feet and started humming a tune to calm herself.

"Well now, Toralf, what have we got here?" She spun in shock as she heard the deep, gravelly voice. Fear shot through her limbs when she saw the two bandits that had come up behind her. Mean eyes peered out at her from heavily scarred faces.

"I'm not sure, Daglin. It's singing like a bird, but it sure looks like a woman to me," he replied to his partner, his voice dripping with menace as he leered suggestively at her, revealing black and rotting teeth. "Why don't we pluck its feathers and see what it has underneath?"

Riley decided she wasn't going to wait around for them to decide what they wanted to do to her. Taking off in the direction of the hut, she made it off the road and then began slipping and sliding on the mud that was fast accumulating. Oh gods, she thought frantically. Please don't let this be how I die. Opening her mouth she let out a scream, high pitched and loud.