Chapter Four!
I'm on a roll here!
Darius' POV
He watched the sleeping girl as he stoked the fire he had started with a simple whisper of a fire breath Shout. The Greybeards would be rather disappointed to know that the Thu'um had sunk to such a pedestrian use, namely Paarthurnax. He chuckles inwardly. He wonders what the old, gray dragon would say.
He still had the Elder Scroll on his back. He had recovered it the Dwemer ruin a week or so before. He was actually supposed to be on his way to the Throat of the World, but he had been sidetracked by reports of a conspiracy in Markarth. He'd decided to help clear it up, and the whole ordeal with the Forsworn had been strange to say the least. That was the sole reason he was in the damned Reach. The terrain was ridiculous, and the Forsworn didn't make it any better. His latest distraction was the little Breton he'd rescued from the Thalmor. He couldn't just leave her there after all. But she would be only a burden to him and he planned to drop her off in Whiterun with some coin.
She looked barely out of her teens, with brown hair to down her shoulders, and, well, she was rather pretty. But her soft skin and hands told the tale that she was one who had never seen hardship. Other than, of course, the last few days in the hands of the Thalmor, he presumed. She stirs so he averts his gaze to the stars. No feelings on the battlefield, his father had once said whilst teaching him basic sword techniques when he was a boy.
Colette's POV
Colette awakes to a dull throbbing in her head. Her thoughts were clearer now but she's sure the Thalmor gave her a concussion considering their blows to her head with their swords' hilts. She tries to sit up but fails miserably. A wave of pain shoots through her torso. "Don't strain yourself. When I found you, you were bleeding out of your nose and mouth and had awful bruises all over your body. You likely had internal bleeding in your intestines due to being bashed in the gut so many times, which is why you're having trouble sitting up. You're a tough one, Breton, not many can take that much punishment." She manages to prop herself up on her elbows and lean against the rock behind her in a sitting position. She notices she'd been in a comfortable bedroll by the fire her rescuaer sat by. "Thanks," She croaks. "For saving me back there." He shakes his head. "Don't thank me. Not yet," He replies. "My destiny still needs fulfilling." He gestures with his thumb to the thing on his back. "Y-You're…the Dragonborn.," She sputters, dumbfounded. "Yes. I am," He says, tapping his armor. His armor, made from the scales of dragons. Talos' undergarments. She'd met the Dragonborn. And he'd gone out of his way to save her. But the way he'd killed those Thalmor; it was as if he hated them in a much deeper way than simply because they drag away innocents and murder them for worshiping their god. As if he had a grudge, a vengeance, something more personal than justice.
She realizes she'd been staring at him the whole time she'd been thinking. She's looking right into his eyes, gleaming, deep blue orbs that seem to see in to her soul. So alert, calculating, intimidating. The dragon in him is evident. She sees sorrow in those eyes, though. Sorrow that she thinks she can relate to. "What's your name, girl?" He asks her. "C-Colette" He flinches at the shakiness in her voice, even if it is a slight flinch. "Call me Darius," He says carefully, with a small, gentle smile. "I think we have a lot more in common than I thought." There is uncomfortable silence for a moment. "There's a stream down the hill that way if you'd like to bathe." More silence. "Dammit, girl, what do you think I am? A dragon-slaying hero who is also a pedophile? You're completely coated in filth, woman! I thought women valued hygiene!" He says rather playfully. She gives him a small smile. The Dragonborn was seeming more and more likable. "Who says I don't want you to watch?" She says in a humorously seductive voice, jokingly imitating the average Skyrim bar wench, following his example of lightening the mood. They both laugh, forgetting their own weights on their shoulders for a bit. "I'm starting to like you, Colette." He removes a bottle of precious spiced wine from his pack that they proceed to share. "To our futures," He says. "Agreed." Colette murmurs.