Chapter 6: Kindness
Hadvar and I crept through Helgen Keep, sticking to the shadows. During encounters that were impossible to avoid, Hadvar did all the talking. If they were Legion, they let us pass. If they were Stormcloaks - while he tried the same tactic of reason in the wake of the common, fiery foe on the surface - they would usually engage, and Hadvar would dispatch them.
With everyone so rattled by what was happening, nobody took any particular interest in me.
I remained close to Hadvar while we walked, and at his insistence, I hid when he fought. He was my way out, so I followed his instructions without question. I had no idea what would happen if we made it out of Helgen – whether the accusations made by the Legate would stick, marking me as a fugitive. But we had to escape Helgen and the dragon first, and then I could concern myself with the future.
And Hadvar was doing everything in his power to ensure that we would have a future. Speaking to the measured and clearly intelligent man in whispers, and then watching on as he drew his sword and charged fearlessly into an oncoming group of enemies left me a little in awe of him. He was so skilled and useful, whereas I was so incredibly small and pointless. At every moment, my debt toward him increased.
So along with the fear, confusion, anger, and underneath it, simmering grief, biding its time, I felt embarrassed and guilty.
I began searching the rooms we passed through for anything that might be of use to us; determined to make myself less of a hinderance. I found a few potions tucked away in the pockets or satchels of fallen soldiers, too. I pocketed these hastily and averted my eyes, swallowing the dizzying nausea burning up my throat at the sight of the bleeding bodies and permanently twisted expressions. Thankfully they had been so recently cut down that they didn't smell.
I found a small backpack in the torture chamber, while Hadvar talked our way through the grizzly place, which made my task of collecting things a little easier. There was a spell book in it, which I kept for the money it might be worth. During our escape, I had realised that my funds were in my pack on the surface, with my lute and journals and sheet music, and the dragon. They were very likely burned or buried under rubble - or both - by now. I would need to find or earn some coin to tide me over until I could access my account from one of the larger townships, and the abandonned spell book would help.
After disposing of another two twitchy Stormcloaks who had refused to let us pass without a fight, Hadvar ran back to my hiding spot, panting from exertion and flicking blood from his sword.
"They won't just let us go, will they?" he asked in frustration, shaking his head in despair. "Did they miss the dragon attack? It didn't care what colours we wore."
I frowned and passed him a health potion. I'd been holding it ready while I worried over the sounds of steel meeting steel, and told myself over and over that he would be back. "I'm sorry," was all I could come up with.
He crossed his brows as he downed the potion and swallowed with a wince. His stormy-grey eyes were fixed on me in confusion, then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Sorry?" he echoed.
I nodded, reaching for the empty bottle. "Do you need another?" I asked. "Or maybe," I rifled through the bag and found an apple. "Something more appetising?"
The corner of his mouth quirked, but he shook his head and motioned for us to proceed.
"What do you mean, you're sorry?" Hadvar asked in the low rumble he'd reserved for our moments of peace between encounters.
I sighed, belatedly realising how self-centred I was being. Another thing to be sorry for.
"It doesn't matter," I whispered. Conversing would only hinder us further, and alert any nearby to our presence.
Hadvar accepted this and silence fell between us. My uneasiness remained, but there was nothing I could do about it for now. All Hadvar's efforts were on getting us out of Helgen unseen; so should mine be.
We passed through a few empty rooms, all with furniture disarrayed and cupboards thrown wide open; clear signs of a recent ransacking. Next we reached what looked like a natural cavern through an opening along one of the straight brick walls. Hadvar glanced through the entryway first, then leapt back, holding his arm up for me to stop. When our eyes met, he put a finger to his lips.
I listened and heard nothing, but did as he bade; the questions on my tongue unasked.
He leaned down, lifting a hand to my ear. "Bear," he whispered.
My breath caught in my throat and I glanced to him fearfully; my eyes widening.
He motioned for me to lean back in, then his hand was back, sheltering my ear again. "I have a bow, but I'm...not the best shot. If I miss, we'll have to run – fast."
Hadvar's uncertain tone and the way his breaths shuddered over my neck spoke volumes; he didn't want to take on a bear. It was no wonder, given how he'd been exerting himself during our escape, and Stormcloaks didn't have long, razor-sharp claws and teeth.
I shook my head and retreated, and found tiredness in his grey depths. My guilt swelled; I was to blame for his exhaustion.
Standing on my toes and leaning up to him; "Can't we go around it?" I whispered. "It doesn't need to know we were here."
Hadvar nodded slightly as I retreated, but his mouth set into a grim line.
"We can try," he didn't seem that confident. I felt he was leaving much unsaid, but we discussed it no longer. I took his hand wordlessly, as he unsheathed his sword with the other.
Hadvar pressed his back to the stone wall, squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep, steadying breath. It seemed to compose him, and when he opened his eyes he shook his head in disbelief, then flashed me a half-smile. His raised eyebrows asked a question; Ready?
I nodded. Together, our boots shuffled along the last few flagstones, and then dulled as they met the earthen, silty path within the cave.
My heart thumped in my chest. I was painfully aware that I was breathing too loudly, and repressed every urge to hold my breath, for it would only make me gasp when I let it go. My eyes felt strained as I peered through the dimness and tried to locate the bear - and was alerted to its position by a grunting sound.
Hadvar and I froze. I found myself unconsciously squeezing his hand as, backs flattened firmly to the wall and eyes wide, we waited. The enormous mass of fur and muscle a mere three paces from us trembled as it shifted, then settled and fell silent again.
The minutes ticked by, and I waited for the lump of darkness amongst the shadows to rise and lope toward us. Sweat trickled down my neck, and I bit my tongue to distract myself as the desperate need to itch it arose.
Eventually, Hadvar tentatively continued shuffling along the wall, and, still holding his hand and too frightened to let it go, I had to move with him.
My eyes were glued to the bear, but briefly, I glanced ahead. A curve to the wall – we would be out of the bear's line of sight by then. That was our goal. We could do this.
An unexpected sound caught my attention – the sound of voices, coming from within the keep.
My head whipped about in horror. Orange flickered from within the keep; an approaching torchlight. In the corner of my eye, both Hadvar, and the bear, noticed it as well.
Hadvar was then like a statue beside me, but the bear didn't listen for long, lumbering up onto all four paws and sniffing the air.
When the huge, dark-furred beast began to move toward the keep, Hadvar let go of my hand and stepped out of sight. I was too afraid to turn, but I heard wood whisper against leather behind me. After an agonising moment where I wondered if he had left me, he was back, inching in front of me; bow drawn and arrow aimed on the creature ambling toward the approaching survivors.
Of course he would want to help them, but I caught his elbow with urgency. When he glanced to me, his look was focussed and determined.
My eyes were wide as I shook my head desperately. If he shot the bear, it would turn on us, of that I was certain.
I saw no judgement in his eyes, and he tilted his head, almost imperceptibly before his gaze left mine. He shuffled forward another step and retrained his aim.
Why did you try to stop him? Coward. Pressing both of my hands to the cavern wall to let him pass, my throat clenched in terror.
Okay, he was really doing this. Which meant I had to be ready to run.
Outrun a bear?
It was entirely absurd and exasperating that, after overcoming so many obstacles, we were going to be killed by a bear!
Stop it, I commanded. You've nearly died for a full day now, yet against the odds you are still alive. Focus.
I made myself look beyond my own nose again. Figures appeared in the entry to the cavern, and the one holding the torch held it a little higher as they peered within.
The bear rose onto its hind legs and roared in warning; its frustration echoing around the small chamber and ringing in my ears as it crashed back onto its front paws and ran toward the soldiers. The newcomers leapt back and one of them cursed loudly.
The bear had taken no more than one bounding step when Hadvar's arrow struck. It cried out in fury and turned, clawing at the arrow in its hind quarter with its front paw.
The two soldiers charged into the cavern with their swords drawn and met the bear head-on. The torched was waved before it frantically, but the great beast seemed to be attracted by the fire, and turned to face the man with an angry snarl.
Hadvar let another arrow fly as the bear swiped at the torch-wielding soldier. In the swirling flash of firelight, I caught their allegiance; they were wearing Imperial red.
When Hadvar's second arrow struck the bear between its shoulder blades, it turned swiftly and scanned the area. It was clearly confused, and I was grateful for the torchlight, for it must have made it difficult for it to spot Hadvar and I in the shadows.
The sword-wielding soldiers leapt at the creature, slashing and cutting through fur and flesh. It screamed in rage and rose to its hind legs, batting at the attackers despite the spray of blood that followed its exertions.
Both muted and stilled by the sight of such savagery, I could only watch and tremble as the bear swatted the two Legionnaires away; its sharp claws cutting through the leather armour of one as though it was made of butter. He crashed onto the wall with a sickening crunch, and didn't rise again.
Hadvar shot a third arrow, striking the bear's leg, but it didn't seem to notice. It seemed to have gone beyond the perception of pain, driven by frenzy.
Staggering to his feet, the remaining soldier caught sight of his fallen comrade. His eyes widened in horror and he dropped the torch, glanced up to the bear, and after a beat where he clearly weighed his options, he turned and darted back into the keep.
Gratefully, the bear's full attention was on him. It crashed down onto its front paws and ran after the soldier, oblivious to the arrows sticking out of it.
"Let's go."
Hadvar grabbed my hand and with a lurch I stumbled into a run, finding my feet under his momentum before I could crash to the ground and take him down with me.
We flew from the scene as the sounds of the furious bear fell away, but even when its rage-filled cries could no longer be heard, we flew as though our lives depended upon it - well, because they did.
Adrenaline surged through my veins and my heartbeat hammered in my ears, countering the beat of our boots against the well-worn rocky surface. The further we fled, the dimmer the path became. Eventually the only light being emitted was from clusters of mushrooms; their eerie blue glow blurring as we raced past them.
Soon, it grew a little lighter, and a welcome coolness brushed my skin, all the colder for the heat of my flushed cheeks. It was the breeze; we were nearly there!
Hadvar must have known we were coming upon the exit but our pace never faltered. We rounded a bend in the cave, and relief filled me; there was a hole in the cave wall, through which I could see trees and sky. Outside.
The fresh air smelled sweet and carried a pleasant, invigorating chill that seeped into my skin, allowing me to celebrate, for a moment, that I had actually lived through all the chaos. I breathed in deeply with delight, glancing about as we exited the cave at a run. The land was mountainous and the woods nearest to us were sparse, but there were clusters of denser, taller trees close by. Long, thick grass carpeted the ground, rippling in the breeze and split by a dirt path, barely a goat track, leading away from the cavern. It was overgrown enough to indicate that the way was rarely used. Perhaps that was why the bear had decided to take up residence in the cavern.
Hadvar stopped only when we reached a cluster of boulders. He let go of me, reaching out to steady himself against one of the rocks as he gasped and coughed; pressing his forehead against the stone surface as his eyes squeezed shut.
I watched him, catching my breath for myself, but not for long. A pair of butterflies fluttered by; one orange, one blue, spiralling as they danced over thick clumps of red and purple mountain flowers around a long-fallen, hollowed log, overgrown with verdant ivies and orange mushrooms.
My eyes followed the butterflies as they ascended, along the length of a tall tree trunk, and then, I saw the sky. Infinite blue, with barely a cloud in sight. A bird trilled a tuneful melody, and there was a flash of white feathers in amongst the leaves.
I wanted to laugh and cry. It was so beautiful, so tranquil; so different, as though I was seeing Skyrim with eyes newly opened.
An otherworldly keening from above ripped through the calm, and a shadow loomed over us.
I leapt toward Hadvar and he reached for me. We steadied each other, ducking down as our eyes flew to the skies, searching fearfully.
The dragon.
The black form was now flying high above us. It mustn't have seen us, or cared about us if it had, for it continued up and away toward the mountains.
As its shape grew less distinct, Hadvar shifted, releasing me and rising slowly. His eyes were trained on the dragon in the distance.
"If its making a home of this Hold, what happened to Helgen might happen to Riverwood next," he murmured darkly.
I stepped out from the rock to watch the black speck on the horizon as it whizzed about. Where had it come from? Why had it attacked now? Why had I understood what it had said in Helgen?
I shook my head - I had clearly imagined the latter. "Surely the Jarl of Whiterun will send soldiers to protect the village?"
Hadvar nodded, more resolved than before; "Yes but first, I'll go and warn them. Riverwood isn't far," he glanced toward me; seemed to falter, then resumed softly. "The Jarl will take time to petition and more to send his people, if he agrees to. He may have his hands full in town, and he will expect the Legion's assistance..." Hadvar glanced beyond me to the cavern exit, frowning.
I glanced with him. All was still, but for the breeze catching the flowers at its borders. There was nobody else; no signs of survivors. With a pang, I glanced back to Hadvar. He had probably lost a lot of friends today, but I couldn't find words that would adequately express how sorry I was. I settled for resting my hand on his arm in apology.
Birdsong filtered to us through the leaves, and Hadvar answered it with a sigh. Turning to me, he seemed to collect himself; setting his shoulders, and levelling his expression.
"Where are you bound?" he asked as he nodded to the track, motioning for us to go. "Home? Back to Solitude, I mean?"
We fell into step beside one another, and I glanced to my feet as I adjusted my pack and huffed; "No. Definitely not."
Hadvar's eyes were on me, questioning, but I kept my own trained on our path. "Maybe I'll try make for Cyrodiil again, in a day or two," I mused in afterthought.
When Hadvar responded, he seemed uneasy. "Don't you think that's a little dangerous, considering that the Stormcloaks and Legion both believe you're a spy for the other side?"
"Oh," my eyes widened. That's right, I was leaving thinking about that until we had escaped Helgen. Hadvar was right; both sides certainly had other priorities, but until my name was cleared, I might be on their watch lists. Perhaps it would be better if I kept away from the border regions.
Hadvar broke our silence eventually. "You know...I'm bound for Solitude. For reassignment, I mean, at Castle Dour. I could...vouch for you, if you want? Clear your name with the Legion, so its safe for you to go home, when you want to go back."
I glanced to him swiftly; he would do that for me? "What...would you tell them?" I faltered.
Hadvar smiled secretively as we stepped onto the main road. "That your name was not on my list."
A laugh bubbled out of me and I ducked my head, grinning at the road. Oh, the Empire and their lists.
"And then, I'd tell them the truth," he added openly. "I find that's generally the best thing to do."
"Hmm," I continued smiling, warmed by his optimism. The truth had won me no favours when I had attempted to tell it; I'd been branded traitor by both armies, sentenced to torture to death by the Stormcloaks, and execution by the Imperials. But of course, the word of an Imperial Legion soldier would weigh more than a frightened Thane's daughter found under suspicious circumstances.
The road angled down through the wooded area between Helgen and Riverwood and either side of the road was thick with wildlife; all flowers and shrubs and butterflies. Breathing in the blissfully fresh air, I reminded myself how lucky I was. I was free. I owed Hadvar my life, regardless of whether I had been wrongfully accused. And - he had offered to help me again, to clear my name.
We may have been free of Helgen, but it seemed that I would still need Hadvar to work my way out of this mess.
"Thank you," I said with sincerity. "And, I'm so sorry. For all of this," I added regretfully.
"There's that 'sorry' again," he teased. "Will you tell me why you are sorry this time?"
I flashed him a sideways look. "I would have thought it was obvious," I shrugged. " I wish I wasn't such a burden. Wish I could fight," I kicked at a pebble in my path.
Hadvar waved a hand as though it was nothing. "Skyrim needs more people who don't," he murmured dryly. "Anyone can swing a sword, but to be a bard takes skill and talent. Bards do important work," he cast me a half-smile. "They keep our history alive, to try keep us from making the same mistakes over again. Were you training at the Bard's college?"
I nodded, glancing to him in wonder. Was he just trying to make me feel better about my lack of properly useful skills, or did he truly believe as he said?
"For three years, now, yes." I did not wish to talk about the life I had left behind, but I would answer anything Hadvar asked of me; the truth was really the least I could give him.
"Oh, that's funny," Hadvar's cheerfulness widened his smile. "Same length of time I've been with the Legion."
"Oh," I echoed, smiling idly in response. Just...how old was he again? "What did you do before you were a soldier?" I tested.
He shrugged. His hair brushed against his jaw as he looked up to the road beyond, and I noticed it was a little lighter, and a little redder, than I had first thought it was. Or perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight.
His manner was casual, but his eyes were ever-watchful. "Not much, I suppose. Helped my uncle around his forge. Helped my cousin with her studies, teaching her to read and write. Fished a bit, mined a bit, made a general nuisance of myself, according to my aunt," he added with a hint of amused irony.
I waited for more; intrigued by this dual nature. He seemed to be much more than a typical Nord soldier. I prompted quietly when he didn't continue on his own. "Why did you join the Legion?"
Hadvar let out a heavy breath. "Because it was the right thing to do. My parents were in the Legion," he faltered.
I caught little grief in his manner; either he had not spent much time with them, or they had passed so long ago that he no longer felt their loss as keenly as I did mine.
"But they...they're gone, of course," he added, biting his bottom lip as he shook his head.
"I'll be honest," Hadvar started again. "I joined the Legion for the living. For those still in Riverwood. I love my family, and I want to protect them."
I nodded - it was as noble a reason as I could have expected from him - but I felt myself tensing up the longer he spoke. My breaths felt heavier, and I resolutely pushed back the urge to cry.
This was what I would be like, some day; glossing over my parent's deaths as though it were a terrible shame, then moving on to the next topic of discussion. Only, there was no family left for me - apart from my sister, who didn't need, or want, my love.
He must have seen the change in me.
"Oh, Gods. Sorry," I heard the wince under his words. "I wasn't thinking-"
"It's okay," I cut in quickly. I tried to shake the feeling off, but there was nothing to replace it with.
Hadvar said nothing, but frowned.
I huffed and conceded, "Well, no. It's not okay. I'm not sure that what happened to them will ever be okay," I murmured.
"I know," he said simply. "Sorry."
"Thanks."
Silence fell again. Our boots crunched on the gravel trail leading us through the sloping woods, and the occasional trill from above was the only comment on our descent.
"What's Riverwood like?" I asked conversationally, annoyed with myself for making the air awkward.
Hadvar smiled and a certain fondness settled over his features.
I found myself smiling too, but felt idly bemused that his manner was so compelling. Some people were like that, I supposed; sharing joy, instead of keeping it all for themselves.
"Let's see," he weighed his words with a taunting lilt. "There's the river, and there's the woods-"
"You don't say?"
He grinned. "It's nice. We're not far, if you want to rest there, get to know it for yourself. My aunt and uncle have room, or there's the Inn. It's very safe," he added quickly. "Well," he rethought hurriedly, "apart from the threat of war and dragon attack, but I expect most of Skyrim will be on alert in regards to the latter, in a day or so."
"Dragon attack," I echoed, shaking my head in wonder and ignoring my immediate future plans while I could. "Where do you think it came from?"
Hadvar shrugged. "Who knows? First in a thousand years. The Stormcloaks will probably claim it for their cause and say Jarl Ulfric summoned it," he added with a roll of his eyes. He motioned toward a gap between the trees. "Look – see up there, on the mountaintop? That's Bleak Falls Barrow. We're close now."
I looked up, my mind reeling at the possibility that Ulfric had summoned the dragon, somehow, to save him from the executioner's axe. It was too ridiculous; too improbable; too fearsome an idea to entertain for long around Hadvar's infectious good spirits.
I squinted, attempting to make out forms along the craggy ridge in the distance. Yes, there was a ruin up there; some of the grey stone was more deliberate and uniform than the rest of the boulders and snow.
"Which means," he continued, falling into a jog as we rounded another bend. "There – see the Guardian stones? We're nearly there."
This I was more curious about; I glanced away from the far mountain and back to our path. "I've only heard about those. Apparently there's one high in the mountains, west of Solitude. One of the Deans at the College talked about pilgrimages to them, as sources of inspiration."
Hadvar nodded, breaking into another jog and making for the three tall, smooth standing stones on the edge of the bluff.
My muscles burned and protested, but I fell into step beside him.
"Sure, a journey to visit all of them would spawn a bard's tale or two. They're all over Skyrim, but for some reason, there are three together here, just outside of Riverwood," he slowed to a stop and rested his palm on one. "This is the Warrior. I wasn't born under it, but I always stop by it on my way home. Calms me down, and gives me strength."
He drifted off until a mild reverence hung between him and the stone, and his expression shifted in the brief silence that followed. The knots in his features smoothed out and he grew more serene while his eyes flit over the etched constellation.
Then he glanced down, smiling warmly as though laughing at himself. "Of course, it might all be in my head. But whatever gets us through, right?"
Whether it was in his head or not, he did seem changed. "May I try?" I took a step toward him.
"Of course," his fingertips drifted off the ancient stone surface as he made room for me on the platform.
My eyes flickered between the signs decorating them as I took his place. As well as the Warrior, there was the Mage and the Thief.
I frowned at the Mage stone. Giselle and I had been born under the Mage, but I had never felt any particular affinity for magic, while she obviously had. I turned from it, glancing at the other two stones; but I was no more a Thief or Warrior than I was a Mage.
"Why isn't there a Bard sign?" I turned to Hadvar, throwing the soldier an apologetic smile.
"Well," Hadvar considered, then nodded toward my birth sign. "Music is a type of magic, when made by the right person. Why don't you give the Mage a try?"
"I suppose," I murmured, facing the stone and pressing my fingertips to the etching. And besides; if I wanted to learn about thu'ums, I would need all the help I could get. Perhaps it was time to embrace the sign, as foolish as I felt to consider myself anything close to a mage.
I took a deep, slow breath as I focussed on the depiction of the wizened old man in a flowing cape holding a staff. A subtle warmth, like a ripple of laughter, swelled within me. I smiled at the image, imagining my serious sister with her stern eyes and straight, dark hair, wearing the ridiculous robes – and beard – of the depiction.
Unable to suppress a smile at the silly image, I turned back to Hadvar. "You're right, I do feel better."
"Good. I knew you'd feel it too," he smiled. The smile reached his eyes and my chest fluttered unexpectedly. How had I failed to notice how nice he looked when he smiled?
He glanced to the road, clearing his throat. "Come on. We're nearly there."
I replied to his nod with my own and jogged down to meet him. There was no denying it; something had made me feel better - lighter, more positive, and ready to overcome the obstacles before me. Was this the power of the Mage stone, or all in my head?
We continued our winding descent. A clear, turquoise river flowed to our left, and when the afternoon sun dipped behind the highest mountains to the west, their shadows fell over the valley, creating an early evening. Torchbugs and luna moths flit out from behind trees and rocks, dancing with the confused butterflies.
The longing ache the sights created, after the tumultuous and lonely past few weeks, overwhelmed me. Unable to stop myself, I knelt by a cluster of vivid, blue mountain flowers, and leant down to inhale their sweet, sugary scent.
"Hadvar, this valley is enchanting," I hushed, sitting up and brushing my hand over the tops of the soft blooms.
"It's home. I'm pleased to see it inspires you," the soldier's chuckle was all joy, and I heard him come to a stop behind me. "Perhaps you'll write a ballad about Riverwood, some day."
"I could never do it justice," I smiled as I glanced over my shoulder to him. For the first time in weeks, the thought of making music again didn't send me into a panic.
The stormy grey glanced over me; a little more faraway than before. He offered his hand with a small half-smile. "I'm sure that's far from true."
His words were comradely enough, but the softness to his tone made me blush.
I let him help me up - telling myself that really, it would be rude to refuse him. My chest fluttered with a surprising yearning as I stood and faced him, and our eyes met fleetingly. It would not be so bad to call this place home, living here with this man who had shown me such...open trust, and willing kindness.
Hadvar led us back onto the road, and our hands drifted apart.
My mind caught up to my thoughts, muting me as they warred with one another. What was I thinking? I barely knew Hadvar – I didn't even know his family name. Skyrim was at war, there was a dragon on the loose, and I had sworn an oath to avenge my parent's deaths. Hadvar was helping me because he believed it was his duty to do so - and it was a duty that would take him away to Solitude, where I could not bare to be, in the wake of Helgen's destruction. I had not even known him for a day, and would likely be in his acquaintance for the same again.
"I'm an idiot," I sighed as I shoved the kindling spark away.
"An idiot?"
I bit back my curse; I had said that aloud? I met his confused look and feigned amusement while my heart thumped accusingly, trying to hammer straight out of my chest.
"Yes. What must you think of me?" I spun, for I could not bare to voice what I had been thinking. "We flee a fiery death, escape the village being destroyed by a dragon, and just manage to avoid death by ravenous bear, and I start rolling in the flowers like a silly fox cub."
Hadvar laughed; an honest, easygoing sound that made me flush at my cowardice as we approached the entry gate to Riverwood.
"I don't think there'll be any trouble, but let me do the talking," he said in a lowered, but still mirthful tone. "Probably best if you refrain from rolling in any more flower beds, too, little fox," he added teasingly. "I don't know how I'd explain that to the guards."
Little fox?
I glanced away, smiling at the river as I reigned back my embarrassed, childish giggle. The clear, blue water gushed around smoothed river rocks, churning into white foam on the edges, but barely took it in as I berated myself for falling into such a familiar, comfortable manner with this soldier I barely knew. True, he had spoken for me when no one else would, saved my life, several times, and was bringing me to his family. And, he had offered to clear my name, when he returned to Solitude.
But I felt that I was in the wrong. I was using him, stumbling along in his wake, taking whatever he offered because nobody else would help me. And - what had just happened between us? What had made him look so distant, and my heart leap and flutter?
You are ridiculous, Celeste. These are not feelings. You have known him under strained circumstances for a matter of hours.
Thoughts of Ataf and his wounded expressions were fresh in my mind, despite all that had passed since that uncomfortable evening. I had promised to never use anyone again as poorly as I had used my friend.
Then what - stop accepting Hadvar's help? See how long you last on your own.
I shook my head at myself, frustrated. No, after all we had experienced together, that would only offend him. And, I couldn't let what had passed between Ataf and I cloud my judgement so. It was very plain that I needed help, and Hadvar was willingly giving it.
Then be kind and honest to him in turn, I resolved. Is it really so difficult? Just - be kind.
Hadvar was telling me about the buildings nearest us as we passed under the entry gate and stepped into Riverwood, and I turned my attention back to him with a warm smile.