A Doom Driven Hero – Chapter 4: The First of Many.

Marcus was sitting down in the temple of Kynareth in Whiterun, twiddling his thumbs and trying not to freak out. It was hard. It was mainly the sheer lack of knowledge of what had happened, and why it had happened. The memories seemed more like a weird dream than something he actually did. But he knew it had all happened. The proof was literally written onto his body in the form of burns and scars. He'd stood facing a gigantic dragon, battling it toe-to-toe, and actually won. If that wasn't enough, he'd somehow absorbed its flesh, or something. And if THAT wasn't enough, he could use the Thu'um all of a sudden. It really was turning out to be an exceedingly strange day. Marcus' arm was covered in little red marks from when he kept pinching himself, trying to wake up. After the 10th attempt, he'd given up and accepted that it was all real.

He'd walked into Whiterun, alone, from the western watchtower. The streets were filled with anxious citizens, wondering what had happened at the watchtower to warrant the dragon wailing loud enough for them to hear. Marcus didn't actually tell them, other than the fact that the dragon was dead and there was heaps of people that needed immediate medical attention. Several people ran off to the temple of Kynareth, because that's where all the healers were situated. Marcus was also dragged along there as well, because despite the fact he was still standing, the various burns, cuts, and the coin sized hole clean through his arm indicated he could do with a bit of medical attention himself. To be honest Marcus had entirely forgotten about his own injuries, but after being reminded about them, he realized that yes, they do hurt a fair bit, and yes, he would like that to not be the case. So Marcus ended up in the temple, being fussed over by a very Mum-like priestess called Danica. Guardsmen were brought into the temple periodically in varying states of health. Some of them were more 'complete' than others. After a while, Marcus dismissed Danica to go care for the other men, since their injuries were blatantly more serious than his own. He felt a little selfish, in an irrational sense, mainly because he had left that battlefield largely unscathed while 10 of the guardsmen had died, and most of the survivors wouldn't be able to continue their jobs as guards. Marcus went and hid out in the back room, both because he wanted to practice his restoration magic in a quiet place, and because he really didn't like the looks of awe that the injured guardsmen kept giving him. A few even mumbled a word at him, through their blood-smeared teeth.

"Dragonborn..."

That was the part that really scared Marcus, because he knew roughly what a dragonborn was. Most of everyone in Cyrodiil knew, given that their most successful line of emperors were all dragonborn. Dragonborn were individuals with the body of a mortal and the soul of a dragon, with the inherent ability to speak the Thu'um. That was basically all he knew about them, but even that was enough to make him very worried and anxious. He was so worried in fact, that he could hardly concentrate on his magic, and little sparks of golden light kept flying off his fingertips as he tried to heal a nasty graze on his leg. Eventually, Marcus got too tired from the use of his magic, being still very much an amateur in the arcane arts.

Perhaps the court wizard could help me in that regard… thought Marcus.

In any event, he wasn't really doing anything useful in that temple anymore, so he stood up and walked out of the little room he shut himself into. There was still quite a few guardsmen moaning about on tables and beds, but the priests and priestesses seemed to have things under control. For the most part anyway. Marcus was almost out the door, when Danica blocked his way.

She said, "You can't leave yet Marcus, you're not fully healed."

Marcus shook his head, "I'm fine Danica, you're being pedantic. I'm not going to keel over anytime soon, and there's other people your healing abilities could be used on."

"Hmmm..." Danica looked unconvinced, but stepped aside to allow Marcus to leave. Either she was this protective of everyone, or simply wanted to protect the city's dragonslayer in case another monster showed up.

Once outside, Marcus decided that there was no point in delaying the inevitable. He had to go to Dragonsreach and give his full report of the events at the tower. No doubt the Jarl had heard a lot of different rumors that needed to be corrected. Marcus walked up the stairs to Dragonsreach, but got halfway up before an incredibly loud sound was heard throughout the entire city., and probably in the entirety of Skyrim. It started with a loud crash of thunder, before a word was called out, ringing throughout the mountains and valleys.

"Do...vah...kiin!"

Then another crash of thunder was heard, probably acting as a full stop or something to end the message. People all around the city stopped what they were doing, and stared up at the sky, same as Marcus. He didn't know what the noise was or who made it, but he was pretty sure it had something to do with him. At this point it seemed every strange occurrence in Skyrim somehow concerned Marcus, much to his chagrin.

Marcus continued up to Dragonsreach, he could sort out whatever that strange call was later on. One thing at a time. Marcus pushed open the heavy door to Dragonsreach and walked toward the Jarl, seated on his throne. Irileth was there, which surprised Marcus. She'd healed very quickly it seemed. As he got closer, he could see a few bruises and skin discolourations that gave testament to her vicious burns, but apart from that, she seemed fine. Balgruuf was conversing with some other man, in strange studded fur armor. Their conversation was cut short however, when they saw Marcus. He felt a little intimidated, approaching the group of people staring at him. When Marcus got close, Balgruuf spoke out.

"Good to see you Marcus, I was just discussing the events of the day with my brother here."

Marcus nodded in the direction of the man in studded armor, then waited for the Jarl to continue.

Balgruuf said, "However, we've heard a lot of different rumors about what had happened down there… to the point where we aren't really sure what to believe."

Marcus kicked a bit of dust at his feet and shifted nervously.

He said, "Well… the watchtower was mostly destroyed when we got there, but we did manage to kill the dragon eventually."

The Jarl simply raised an eyebrow. Marcus knew he had to continue.

"After we… I… killed the dragon, I absorbed some kind of power from it. Your men have taken to calling me 'Dragonborn' after they saw it happen..."

Balgruuf nodded, as if Marcus' words had affirmed what he already suspected.

He said, "So it's true… the Greybeards really were summoning you..."

Marcus asked, 'Greybeards? Who on Nirn are they?"

"They are masters of the Thu'um, living in seclusion on the top of the tallest mountain in Skyrim, 'The Throat of the World'."

Oh dear, thought Marcus, I'm probably going to have to visit them, aren't I?

"Because the Dragonborn is uniquely gifted in the Thu'um," Balgruuf continued, "They most likely summoned you in order to teach you about your gift."

The Jarl's brother stepped forward, "Didn't you hear that thundering sound just outside? That was the Greybeards, summoning you to High Hrothgar. This hasn't happened since Tiber Septim was summoned when he was still called Talos, hundreds of years ago!"

Marcus was kind of lost for words, unsure as to whether or not to comment on this situation. The Jarl began reminiscing about his pilgrimage to High Hrothgar, with Avenici and Hrongar interjecting occasionally. Irileth stayed quiet, examining Marcus with a strange gaze.

"I've often wondered if the Greybeards even notice what's happening down here…" Balgruuf was saying, "They've never seemed to care before."

Marcus said, "Surely they'd notice a little? I mean, they noticed me absorbing a dragon soul."

The Jarl just scratched his chin, thinking with a wistful look on his face.

"No matter," he said eventually, "Climb the 7000 steps, go to High Hrothgar, and speak with them. You'll learn more from them than you would from hearing us chatter."

"I see..." said Marcus.

7000 steps? He thought, how did a bunch of old men climb up 7000 steps in the first place?

Marcus was drawn out of his thoughts when the Jarl stood up, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Marcus looked at the man, unsure of what was to come next. The concept of a reward had left his mind, and nothing had filled the space he left. Marcus didn't actually know what he wanted anymore. Leaving Skyrim sure as hell was off the table.

Balgruuf said, "You've done a great service to me and my city, Dragonborn, so I will give you something in return. By my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun, the highest honor I can give. I assign you Lydia, as a personal Housecarl, and will give you a weapon from my personal armory to serve as your badge of office. I also offer you the ability to purchase property in the city, at a discounted price. Speak to Proventus when you are ready."

Marcus was stunned. He didn't expect to be given an actual position of power in the city. Though, Marcus realized he had in fact killed a dragon almost single-handedly, which put him in a position of power regardless, just not politically. There was one thing Marcus needed to know though.

"What's a housecarl?" he asked.

Balgruuf smiled, before answering "I'll let Lydia herself answer that for you. You'd best be off to High Hrothgar as soon as you can."

Marcus nodded, and began walking away back down to one of the benches near the door to Whiterun. With Marcus taken care of officially, the Jarl turned to his steward.

"Back to business Proventus," he said, "We still have a city to defend."

Marcus was unsure what to do. He was really, really unsure. In a day, he'd managed to get roped into fighting a dragon, manage to kill it some kind of righteous fury-induced state, then get handed a position of political power in Whiterun, along with a Housecarl, whatever that was. He didn't know how to handle it. What was he supposed to feel in this situation? Pride? Fear? Confusion? A f*cked up sense of destiny and duty? All of the above? He really didn't know, and decided that he needed to find a place to rest, and sort out his head. The sheer overload of information and emotional turmoil meant he really needed to find somewhere to sleep. He guessed he could stay in the Tavern for a night, but after that he'd probably need to see about getting a house in Whiterun, depending on how much it cost. He breathed out, if his life kept getting as complicated as it was, as fast as it was, then he didn't want to know what he'd look like a week from now.

Irileth watched Marcus leave, and when she was certain he was out of earshot, she turned to Balgruuf.

She said, "there's one more thing you ought to know about that man, my Jarl."

Balgruuf turned in his throne to face her, curiosity on his face.

"What's that?"

Irileth smiled, "The man is probably the worst person I've ever met when it comes to describing his own actions. He made it sound like grocery shopping, taking down that dragon, but the reality was very different."

The Jarl frowned, "Explain."

"He said 'I killed the dragon,' which I guess he did, but he never said, 'I stood face to face with the beast, dodged it's lightning fast lunges, slashed it across the face multiple times, then proceeded to climb onto its head and drive my sword repeatedly though its skull until it died in a fiery explosion which I then absorbed into my body'. The latter is a more accurate description of the events."

Balgruff blinked, mentally digesting what Irileth had just said. He looked down at Marcus, sitting on a bench near the double doors with his head in his hands.

Balgruuf said, "Holy shit..."

"No kidding." Was the reply from Irileth.

After about 30 minutes of rubbing his temples and trying to relax, Marcus stood up and moved toward the large doors to Whiterun, and was just about to push them open when a kind, but firm voice called out to him.

"Are you Marcus?"

He turned toward the source of the voice, wondering if someone in the court had decided he should be put to work on another nigh impossible task. This was not the case however, and Marcus was pleasantly surprised by what he saw. It was a woman, as he suspected from the voice. An incredibly beautiful woman at that, and Marcus instantly felt slightly flustered. She had black hair reaching down to her shoulders, clearly well maintained and cleaned. Her eyes were a unique shade of sparkling blue, similar to the ocean on a sunny day. Her face was almost perfectly symmetrical, with high cheekbones, a smallish nose and full lips. She was young, not as young as Marcus but probably only a year or two his senior.

"Uhh… ye… yes, I am Marcus" he stammered.

The woman kneeled in front of him, bowing her head.

"I am Lydia, the Jarl has assigned me to be your housecarl. It is an honor to serve you, my thane."

Marcus looked down at the woman kneeling in front of him, unsure how to proceed.

"Um… thanks?" he began, "What does a housecarl actually do?"

Still kneeling, Lydia spoke in a calm but collected tone. She didn't look up at Marcus, simply bowing her head toward the floor.

"As your housecarl, my thane, I am sworn to your service, guarding both you and everything you own with my life."

Marcus blinked. That sounded an awful lot like a servant, which he didn't particularly like. Marcus had never liked the idea of someone being forced into servitude for another. It carried undertones of slavery.

Marcus walked forward to Lydia, and pulled her to her feet.

"Okay," he said, dusting her off and making sure she looked him in the eyes, "I can already see a heap of things need to change here."

Lydia looked up at him with a concerned and slightly anxious expression, worried that she had already managed to annoy her new thane.

Marcus continued, "first of all, call me 'Marcus', okay? Not 'my thane'. Second of all, no bowing or scraping. Third of all, you are more than welcome to treat me as you would a friend, rather than your superior, as long as you feel I have earned the right to be treated that way."

Lydia blinked. Clearly that was not what she had been expecting.

"But… you're the Dragonborn, and my thane, it is customary to address you in the proper-"

Marcus interjected, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm ordering you to ignore said customs. I don't want a servant."

Lydia looked down at her feet for a moment, considering what Marcus had told her. Then she looked up and nodded.

"Very well, my Th…. Very well, Marcus."

He smiled at her, and gestured with his head toward the door.

"Let's get out of here."

Lydia wasn't sure what to think of her new thane. He was a bit of an unknown quantity, and it was hard to believe that he was the one that had killed the dragon and saved their lives. She looked at him from behind as they walked from the cloud district to the Bannered Mare. When she heard that a young visitor had almost singlehandedly killed a dragon and absorbed its soul, revealing he was Dragonborn, Lydia had pictured a 6-7 feet tall warrior carrying huge weapons and with a stoic, far-away look in his eyes. She imagined a man from one of the storybooks she used to read as a young girl, some classic hero with a chiseled jawline and long flowing hair. In all honesty, she'd gotten quite excited when she'd been told that she was to become housecarl to the Dragonborn, a legendary hero. But now that she had met Marcus, she couldn't help but be disappointed with what he turned out to be. As much as she scolded herself for thinking so, the Dragonborn wasn't as impressive physically as she thought he'd be.

In reality, the Dragonborn was a young man, about average height, with a fairly plain face. He wasn't ugly by any means, but he wasn't making any ladies nearby swoon. His short brown hair was cut neatly, but still gave off an unkempt look. His build wasn't thin, but he wasn't obviously muscular either. The most unusual aspect of his appearance was his eyes, a strange shade of hazel that almost looked orange. A fiery orange, at that.

Of course, Lydia realized, it was what he had on the inside that was important. A hero is more of a character than an aesthetic. That was where Marcus wasn't lacking, it seemed. His reaction to her subservience was an indication he was modest, which was nice. Apart from that however, he seemed a bit unsure of himself, even getting slightly lost on his way to the Bannered Mare. It was almost hard to believe that this was a man effective enough in combat to kill a dragon, as his stance and physique didn't really give off that vibe.

Stop judging him, Lydia scolded herself, you will serve him regardless of his actions or character…

Still, Lydia couldn't help herself. If not what she expected, her new thane was certainly still an intriguing character.

Marcus pushed open the door to the Bannered Mare, and immediately set about reserving a room for the night.

He walked up to the counter and placed down a small purse of coins.

"We'd like accommodation for one night, and breakfast in the morning."

The woman behind the bench nodded, taking the purse then nodding toward a set of stairs behind Marcus.

"Up those stairs, on your right."

Marcus nodded in thanks, then headed up the stairs. Lydia followed close behind. She didn't know why Marcus had paid for her to have a bed as well, since she could have just stayed in Dragonsreach where she slept in her own small quarters. Still, she wasn't complaining, as the tavern beds were more comfortable than her own, and she wasn't one to question her thane. Marcus entered the room before her, but stopped abruptly, making a quiet 'oh' noise. When Lydia arrived beside him, she too saw the problem. There was only one bed in the room. A double bed.

Neither person said anything right away. They just stood there in awkward silence for a few seconds, wondering if the other would talk first. Clearly, the inkeeper had mistaken them for a couple, and gave them a room 'together'. Marcus thought there would actually be two closed off rooms behind that door, as did Lydia. Marcus was blushing like mad, and stammered a little.

"Umm… sorry, I-I didn't intend this…"

Lydia nodded rapidly, "I know Marcus, it, er… seems Hulda misunderstood. What happens now?"

Marcus looked at her with a funny expression on his face. He gestured toward the bed with one hand.

"Isn't it obvious?"

Lydia looked up at him with a briefly confused face. Then the gears in her mind clicked, and she began blushing madly, before quickly averting her gaze to her feet. Was he saying what she was thinking he was saying? Did her expect that from her?

It wasn't unheard of amongst thanes and their housecarls, of course. It was slightly unusual, but not frowned upon. She'd heard the stories about housecarls being physically intimate with their thanes, but that was normally after a long relationship had been established. He'd only just met her less than an hour ago! Was her judgement of his character wrong?

The problem was, she was sworn to his service, in every way. If he demanded of her that she sleep with him, she'd either have to oblige, or take it up with the Jarl. Lydia was a proud nord woman, and wouldn't be pressured into such a personal, intimate act with a stranger, but at the same time, she had her duty to consider. The conflicts whirled around in her head wildly, and she began to wish she hadn't been assigned Marcus as her thane. What kind of man would place someone he had just met in that kind of situation?

Marcus just looked at her with a curious expression, and Lydia didn't know what to do.

Eventually, after Marcus had started feeling awkward at the weird silence that followed his words, he said, "It's simple, I'll just go down and ask the inkeeper for two separate rooms. It was clearly just a misunderstanding that'll take a few seconds to rectify."

Lydia jolted upright, the flushed colour draining from her face as she realized that indeed, what Marcus had just said was more obvious. How stupid she had been... Who on earth would sleep with a housecarl they had met under an hour ago? Why did she automatically assume that was the most obvious solution? How ignorant she had been to assume that of Marcus' character! She began feeling very guilty at how angry she had been at him during those frantic seconds.

Lydia composed herself quickly, Marcus still looking at her with a slightly unsure gaze. She brushed her hair out of her face, and nodded quickly.

"Yes, of course my Th- of course Marcus."

In a short while, Marcus and Lydia were lying down on beds in separate rooms, each one wishing that the previous 10 minutes hadn't been so awkward. Lydia practically kicked herself for acting so unprofessional. Marcus just kept asking himself why his interactions with Skyrim's women were always so strange. He must be doing something wrong.

Marcus was already having breakfast when Lydia got out of bed. He was sitting at a table, sipping on a cup of water, and eating some bread and cheese. They had a quiet breakfast, not really speaking much. Marcus had a lot to think about. He needed a lot of things. He needed a house in Skyrim, mainly because it seemed like he was going to be spending a lot of time here. It didn't take a genius to realize that the return of the dragons had something to do with him, since he was the only Dragonborn that had been revealed as of yet. But a house costs a lot of money, which Marcus didn't have. Marcus would also need better equipment sooner or later, as leather armor and steel weapons won't get him very far in a battle against a dragon. Marcus would either have to buy said equipment, or craft them himself. Crafting was cheaper, but he needed lessons to be taught how to do it, along with practice. Each of these things required more money. Marcus would also need traveling expenses if he was to begin traipsing all across the province.

He let out a long sigh, and rested his head in his hands. Sensing his troubled state, Lydia placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you alright, Marcus?"

Marcus waved a hand dismissively near his head.

"Yeah… yeah… don't worry about it."

Lydia was also a concern. He wasn't entirely sure if he should, or could, ask her to undertake the same tasks that it seemed he'd have to do. Climbing to the top of the 'Throat of the World' was something that he wouldn't do if he had the choice, so he didn't see why he should make Lydia do it.

I guess I'll just have to ask her, Marcus decided, but that can wait.

Marcus remembered the dragon, and wondered if it's body was still down at the watchtower. If it was, then he could theoretically take some of its bones and scales, and sell them. Marcus didn't know if they could be used for anything, but given how they were literally one of a kind, they'd still fetch quite the price. He'd better bring up the topic with Lydia first though, as he was unsure if she'd take to the idea of hacking apart a dragon corpse.

"Hey Lydia," he began.

"Mmm?" she mumbled, mouth full of bread.

"I was wondering if you'd accompany me down to the Western Watchtower, for a bit of 'harvesting' of the dragon corpse."

Lydia turned her head to look at him, frowning.

She swallowed her bread and spoke, "Why on Nirn would you want to do that?"

Marcus shrugged, and said, "There hasn't been a dragon killed in Skyrim for several thousand years, it seems. So I think their bones and scales are going to be a pretty valuable item for traders and collectors."

"Hmm… I guess that makes sense. I suppose if anyone has a right to cut apart its body, it's you."

Marcus nodded, and stood up away from the table. He gestured with a thumb toward the door.

"I'll wait for you outside, take your time."

When Marcus and Lydia arrived at the watchtower, they both noticed that the Dragon corpse was still there where Marcus left it. Lydia wasn't expecting it to be as big as it was. The body was roughly the size of a house, and she couldn't imagine how scary it must have been when it still had its skin, and was breathing fire at everyone and everything. Lydia also noticed the very large section on its skull that had been caved in and broken apart. She looked at Marcus, the barest amount of awe in her eyes. He really was more than he looked, if he'd been able to bring down this giant beast. Marcus just looked at the body, then around at the watchtower and its underway repairs. He didn't like being back here. He could hear the crackle of flames, even if his eyes couldn't see any. Lydia looked at the blank facial expression on Marcus face as he looked around at the tower. She was just about to say something when he shook his head to clear his mind, and walked over to the dragon corpse.

"Lydia, this might be a good time to ask you a certain question I've been thinking about."

Lydia replied, "of course, Marcus."

He gazed at the dead dragon's body briefly, before turning and looking her right in the eyes.

"I'm not going to honey-coat it for you, being my housecarl could potentially mean a very sticky end for one or both of us. As a dragonborn, I'm going to have to end up fighting dragons, one way or another. If you're currently my companion, that means you're going to have to fight them too, which is probably the most dangerous undertaking I can think of. While it would be nice to have a friend beside me on some of these undertakings, I… I understand if you don't want to be a part of it. To be honest, if I had the choice, I'd probably want to stay the hell away from the entire business."

Lydia tilted her head fractionally to the side and smiled a beautiful, pitying smile.

"Marcus," she began, "The fight against the dragons is something I have a feeling everyone will have to contribute to. I doubt what we've seen here is going to be the end of it all, so many more fights like this will be occurring, all over Skyrim."

She walked a bit closer to Marcus, and placed both of her hands on his shoulders, looking him right in the eyes.

"I don't think anyone will be safe, no matter where they are, so not being at your side won't mean I'm not in danger. I'm also your housecarl, and I'd be a pretty terrible one if I let you run off into perilous situations without my help."

Her smile changed to a grin.

"Besides, as a dragonborn, you're literally the best person to be around when a dragon needs to be killed, so I think I'll be fine."

Marcus looked at her with an admiring expression on his face.

Shaking his head, he said, "You're a lot braver than me, Lydia."

Marcus looked up at the sun, the supposed portal to Aetherius, and gestured with one arm towards her.

"Why the hell didn't you make HER dragonborn?"

Lydia blushed at the praise, casting her gaze down.

Marcus returned his sight to earth, and upon seeing the dragon behind Lydia, he was reminded why he'd come down here in the first place.

"Come on Lydia," he said in a more cheerful tone, "we've got a lizard corpse to chop up."

Marcus walked out of Belethor's general goods store in a relatively good mood, which speaks nothing of how Lydia felt. The sleazy owner had been more focused on intruding Lydia's personal space and inquiring about her relationship status than he had been on bartering with Marcus over possession of the only dragon bones obtainable in all of Tamriel. This allowed Marcus to get a price on the bones higher than he was originally anticipating, as it seems Belethor couldn't attempt to chat up a lady and negotiate business at the same time. The guy wouldn't take a hint, it seemed, even going as far to ask Lydia what time her 'housecarl-ing' finished in the evenings. Lydia promptly replied that her duty to her thane was more important than pursuing the fantasies of a deranged shopkeeper. Marcus unsuccessfully stifled a laugh at this, and decided he should wrap things up, and conclude the transaction.

Once the two were outside the building, Marcus jokingly asked Lydia if she could come with him on all his shopping occasions. She just shook her head vigorously, not even bothering to look at him.

"Come on Lydia," Marcus said with mock exasperation, "he was more focused on you than the only dragon bones on the continent! You should be flattered!"

If looks could kill, the one she gave Marcus after that particular statement could have killed a dragon. Marcus chose to stop talking. The two walked up to dragonsreach, where Marcus spoke with Proventus about the available house in Whiterun. Marcus had just enough money to get it, leaving him with a few hundred gold. Marcus doubted that the dragon bones he managed to sell would maintain such a high price for long, as the market would slowly be exposed to more and more of the same product as more of the dragons were killed, so naturally demand would fall. However, for a short while, killing a dragon would actually be an exceedingly profitable business move. Marcus began feeling slightly better at his new occupation as fabled dragon slayer. He didn't have enough money to furnish the house, but Marcus didn't care. It was a place to call his own, and that knowledge provided him with a refreshing feeling of stability in this otherwise uncertain time.

Marcus unlocked the door to his house with a satisfying click. Inside, it was dusty and even had a few cobwebs in the corners. Clearly it hadn't been aired out in a long time, so Marcus decided he'd better clean the entire place up, and make his new abode into more of a place to relax, instead of a place to inhale harmful particles.

"We'd better get started cleaning up," Marcus said to Lydia, "I don't want to wake up at night with a nose full of dust and then wake everyone in Whiterun up with my sneezing."

Lydia looked at Marcus as he began cleaning the place up with a look of borderline incredulity.

"What are you doing Marcus?" she exclaimed, "I'm your housecarl! You shouldn't have to clean up when I'm around..."

Marcus sighed, and look at Lydia with a tired expression.

He said, "Lydia, I've told you before. You're not my slave. I don't want, need, or deserve any kind of servant. Feel free to lend a hand, but you're not going to stop me from cleaning my own house when it needs it, regardless of your sense of duty."

Lydia decided not to pursue the matter further. She didn't know why he'd think he doesn't deserve a servant though, but she didn't enquire. There was a lot about him she didn't know, so it'd be best to just follow along and help him when he allowed her.

"I think tomorrow, we should head out for those greybeards on the mountain," Marcus was saying, "I'd like to learn a little bit more about myself, as it where, from them."

"Of course Marcus," Lydia replied.

"Another thing," Marcus said, raising a finger, "stop sounding so robotic to my every sentence. I'd appreciate it if you voiced your own thoughts a little more instead of constantly agreeing to mine."

Lydia frowned, she didn't know that was a bad thing. "Umm… ok then?"

Marcus smiled at her, a smile that seemed devoid of the stresses that had been placed on the young man in the last few days. Then he looked back down at the desk he was brushing off.

"If she keeps agreeing with all my ideas" he mumbled, thinking she couldn't hear him, "I'll end up thinking I actually know what I'm doing…"

Lydia smiled, but didn't say anything. She got the feeling her life wouldn't be getting boring anytime soon.