Man In The Mirror
Ralof
I woke up some time the next morning, slightly dazed and with a mild headache. The person I woke up next to, however, made up for every aching muscle and sore movement. Godrael's body was tucked neatly into my chest, his legs curled up and his back facing me. I wrapped my arms tighter around him and he shuffled deeper into the blankets.
"Godrael?" I asked quietly, pulling back the quilt to see the top of his head. "Are you awake?"
"No," He muttered back, snatching the cover from me and replacing it over him. "Ask later."
I chuckled and placed a hand on top of the bump in the covers that was his head, "Come on, you have to get up sometime."
"Later, then." He said, his voice muffled. I shrugged and was about to settle into the bed again, had Godrael's housecarl not knocked on the door.
"Dovahkiin?" Affe called from the other side of the door. Godrael groaned and burrowed out of the blankets. He reached for his trousers on the floor and answered him.
"Affe, I was having a good dream! What could you possibly want this early in the morning?" He shouted, tugging on the pants, but leaving his smallclothes and shirt on the floor.
The housecarl opened the door, his lips tightening into a straight line at the sight of us—one naked under the blankets—in bed. If I hadn't known better, I would've sworn his face was tinting a healthy shade of red.
"You have a visitor."
"Who would visit me?" Godrael asked, rolling his eyes. "We sent Frodnar home ages ago."
"It isn't the boy," Affe said. "It's a man. I'd say he might even be your elder by a couple of years. Says he's your cousin."
"I don't have a cousin. And even if I did, it would be a child of Ma'keer's. Khajiit aren't allowed in the city."
"He's a Nord, Dovahkiin. And he says that he's the son of your mother's sister."
Godrael's brow furrowed. "He's lying. My mother has no sister." Even when he knew the truth, it was obvious that he was curious as to why someone would be lying to get to him. "Send him in anyway. I'd like to sort this out myself."
Affe's mouth tightened again, "And your guest?"
Godrael looked over his shoulder at me, "For Divine's sake man! Put on some pants!"
"Yessir," I said, saluting him lazily. Affe turned swiftly and went out the door and I flung off the blankets.
"I think Affe has a crush on you, Ralof," Godrael laughed. "I guess I'll have to watch my back from now on."
I snorted, tugging on my own pants and undershirt of my armor. Godrael tugged at my braid and brought me closer to him. I smiled, thinking I understood his intention, but he instead raised his chin a fraction and said, "There's something in your teeth, love."
"You have no idea how much I resent you at the moment," I retorted, nevertheless running my tongue over my teeth as soon as his back was turned. Another knock at the door, and Godrael called them in.
The guest was tall, about my height, and thick. It was obvious he'd been in many fights before, from the amount of scars on his face and arms. He wore custom armor and had his blonde hair pulled back at the nape of his neck. He had a severe look on his face constantly, his dark brown eyes narrowed somewhat permanently.
"Are you Godrael?" He asked in a deep, rumbling voice that matched every aspect of his person.
"Yes. And you're my," Godrael lifted his hands, quoting with his fingers. "'cousin', are you?"
The man looked only slightly offended as he straightened up his posture, "I am. I was told to give you this when my mother passed. I've spent a week getting here, and even longer trying to track you down." He said, pulling out a neatly folded letter. Godrael took it carefully between his index and middle finger.
"Excuse me, but I was quite busy not dying and serving in the war. Sorry for your inconvenience."
"You're excused."
If they were related, I probably wouldn't doubt it. Their speaking patterns were awfully similar.
Godrael narrowed his eyes slightly at the stranger in acute interest, but turned his attention to the letter. He blinked and his mouth opened in shock.
"This is Manna's handwriting…" He muttered. I put my hand on his shoulder and the man's eyes snapped to the action. "Dear Godrael, I have never told you about my sister, but if you are reading this, it means that she has died and her son, Lond has delivered this to you. My sister and I have never gotten along, but we agreed after he husband was killed in the rebellion and your father and uncle imprisoned, that you both should meet if we both die. Godrael, please do your best to be family to Lond, as I expect the same from him. You are all each other has. I will love you forever, Manna."
Godrael folded the letter back and stood, looking Lond in the eyes.
"So, we're family then."
"I suppose."
"Well," Godrael sighed, popping his shoulder. "I should introduce you, then. This is Ralof."
"And who is Ralof to you?" Lond asked.
"We're engaged. He has a sister, who has a husband, and they have a child together. Since we're family, they're family to you, too."
Lond nodded, "I suppose."
"Is that all you say?" Godrael asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lond looked thoughtful for a second, "Yeah."
Godrael snorted and hit his cousin on the shoulder, "I suppose, then, that we might actually get along. I've got guard duty and Ralof's on patrol—"
"Again?" I asked.
"Yes." Godrael said. He turned back to Lond. "So you might find something to entertain yourself for a few hours."
"You're both soldiers?" He asked.
Godrael nodded, "I serve the Jarl. Ralof is usually stuck in patrols or breaking up drunken brawls in town."
Lond looked as if he was fighting not to laugh at me, "I see. It must be interesting."
Godrael shrugged, tugging on his shirt, "Not as interesting as you might think. Since Ralof came back, I've been off duty. This is actually my first day back on. My last day was sort of interesting I suppose—an attempted assassination. But that happens a lot when you're on guard for the future High King."
Lond nodded. The two began talking as Godrael got dressed. We discovered that Lond was actually three years younger than Godrael was, which made us both slightly skeptical. He assured us that if he'd wanted to lie about his age, that he would've lied the other way so as to seem more mature. Godrael had laughed and agreed.
I stayed there listening, long after they'd both forgotten I was there. It was just good to see Godrael so happy, either from having a friend or just have a blood relative after thinking he was all alone. He'd laughed with his cousin, and the sounds were so complimentary and similar, like when he and Ma'keer had laughed. When they talked it was so fluid, like when he and his father used to talk, as if they knew each other's thoughts.
Godrael was late for guard duty, but Yvette had covered for him. I was late for patrol, but no one cared. It was worth seeing Godrael's eyes shine like they had when he'd seen his uncle in the camp, or his father in the cart. I knew I'd never be able to do that for him, since I'd tried so hard to do that in the past, and Lond was the only choice he had left.
Godrael nodded to his cousin when Yvette came to collect him, as for the moment we were left alone just before Affe came to do the same with me.
"Lond, I have to say: If you hurt my Godrael, I'll have to hurt you back." I said, very seriously.
"I hadn't planned on it," Lond said. "I would have to say the same to you."
I didn't tell him that I already had, just walked past him without speaking. The only thought that occurred to me as I readied myself for Affe's speech on readiness and the importance of a patrol was, If I hurt him any more than I already have, I'll hurt myself.
