Author's Note:
Not going to lie, I think both Fjori and I thought this was going to get to a spicier point by the end of the chapter, but that wasn't how it worked out. No regrets from either of us, it was just some overdue conversations. Better luck in chapter 14?VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
It had been a long night, with Massa and Secunda hanging high in the sky before they retired. Quintus refrained from mentioning any of his own drama, not wanting to put additional problems on Fjori when he was just glad she hadn't gotten killed on her own adventures. Instead, he plied her for information regarding what she had been up to, and Fjori, being who she was, eagerly detailed their exploits in the past five days. Lydia rarely got a word in edge-wise, and found her head spinning from the dramatic, drawn-out narrative, but Quintus listened with rapt attention, eagerly soaking in each word. Fjori noted how despite his exhaustion, his eyes sparkled as she recounted their discoveries in Blackreach, of the entire Dwemer city buried deep underground. Unable to wait, she pulled out several Dwemer gadgets they had picked up, eager to give them to her biggest supporter. He wasn't as much into history as science, but how could the scholar in him be anything but fascinated by the gyros and centurion cores of a long-lost civilization? And alchemy ingredients as well! Oil from dwarven constructs, the ears of the dreaded Falmer, and enough chaurus eggs to last him a year! He'd of course give her coin for her extras, but perhaps he'd keep a few of the less degradable items for himself as display pieces for the store…
Hours later and nearly hoarse from talking so much, Fjori admitted it might be time to sleep. A bed not made out of stone would be a nice improvement, both women agreed. Before they could depart for the inn, he offered his dwelling instead, intent on saving them the coin. Fjori protested, noting how gross they were after spending so long in a giant cave, but when he insisted, they were too tired to protest further. At the least, Fjori demanded she and Lydia share the larger bed upstairs so poor worn-out Quintus wouldn't have to fall asleep sitting at his table like last time. It wouldn't have mattered; knowing Fjori and Lydia were safe was more than enough for him to rest easy regardless of location.
The next morning, he awoke at the same time as always despite running on five hours of sleep. Even so, he had more energy than he'd had since Fjori departed, and he quickly set about preparing breakfast while simultaneously heating large pots of water. There was no concern about waking the sleeping pair by making too much noise as he worked upstairs. If they were truly worn out, they would sleep though him trudging up and down the steps to replenish his water supply from the well.
It had been a long and grueling adventure, but when they still hadn't risen by the time the store was about to open, Quintus cautiously shook Fjori awake. "Hey, Fjori," he murmured in a low voice. "Time to get up. If you don't, the water will get cold."
"The…water?" she groaned groggily, rolling onto her back. Her hair, matted with grime, was sticking out at awkward and unattractive angles. Well, unattractive in most cases. This right now was just kind of cute.
"I drew you a bath. You seemed to need it," he smirked in amusement. "You and Lydia both, of course. It's been a hard couple of days, and I thought you'd like to get cleaned up. I have breakfast heating on the hearth as well, just some scrambled eggs and warm bread with snowberry jam. Store's about to open, so I'll make myself scarce. Holler if you need anything." As he continued to study her for a reaction, he wasn't getting much besides a weak nod that could just as well be misconstrued for nodding off. "Fjori, what did I just say?"
"Food?" she attempted.
This earned a snort of laughter. "Fine then, you leave me no choice." Searching for the cleanest spot on her face (and there were not many), he settled on a patch of skin right next to her ear and firmly pressed a kiss there. "Get going, Fjori, or you'll regret it." His scratchy whisper in her ear and the tickle of his sideburns on her sensitive skin caused her eyelids to fly open in shock.
He turned to walk away before he could see the reaction this got out of Fjori. His intentions had been completely innocent, of course, but he hadn't realized that he'd hit upon a sensitive and potentially arousing area of her body with this choice. Even as he descended to the main floor, he left Fjori fully awake and flushing, hand reaching up to her ear as if trying to determine what had just happened.
"My Thane, I don't think we both should use the water," Lydia decided in a hushed voice, revealing that she was now awake as well. Rolled over on her side, she was completely oblivious to what had transpired or Fjori's current condition. "One person will completely dirty it. You should go first, and then I'll dump the water and start again. Maybe after that we can wash the sheets for Quintus, seeing as he's been so hospitable, and…Fjori, are you even listening?" Lydia had sat up, and realized Fjori was absently rubbing the side of her face with a dazed look. "What, are you still half asleep?"
"R-right. Just…still dreaming I guess."
"Mmm-hmm…." Lydia squinted. "And what were you dreaming about, I wonder?"
"Say, Lydia," Fjori began, paying no attention to her intent, "I'll give you a hundred gold to get a room at the inn and occupy yourself for the day. I know we need to deliver the scroll to High Hrothgar, but give me this one day and I won't ask for more until my quest is done." Before Lydia could say anything, she had thrown the covers off and jumped out of bed. "I mean, you can stay and eat breakfast, but I need some space. I hope you can understand."
"What's gotten into you?"
"Do we have a deal, Lydia?" Fjori was trying not to sound desperate and failing spectacularly.
With a growl, Lydia rubbed her temples in an attempt to organize her thoughts. "You want me to leave you alone for 24 hours, no questions asked, and in return you won't stop for anything until you've defeated Alduin." There was a thoughtful pause, then a suspicious furrowing of her eyebrows. "Fjori, are you going to try to-"
"Like you said, Lydia, no questions asked. Do we have a deal?" She was trying to keep her voice down, but there was an unquestionable intensity to her tone.
"I have my doubts that it is in your plans, but do you swear you will not leave the safety of the city without me?"
"I will not, I promise. Everything I want is well within the city." Fjori let her eyes trail down to the floor, and Lydia could easily read her thoughts as she looked through the gaps in the floorboards for the man they both knew was hard at work below.
Lydia sighed grudgingly. "You know it will only make things more complicated if they don't go according to plan. What if something happens to you? What if in slaying Alduin you lose your life along with him?"
Fjori gritted her teeth. "He can decide what he wants, he'll be the one living in that case."
"He doesn't even understand what you have to do!" It was taking everything Lydia had not to let her voice escalate to a point where Quintus could hear them.
"I'll explain to him today. No quick comments and then running out the door. That's why I need you to make yourself scarce, okay?" Fjori swallowed hard. "I just want it to be him and me, wherever that ends up taking us."
They stared each other down for several moments before Lydia sighed again. "You are a grown woman, and I am your housecarl. I don't think it makes a lot of sense to get so invested right now, but it isn't my choice to make. Give me the gold and I'll get out of your hair."
Nodding solemnly, Fjori went for her pack where it lay on the floor and withdrew the necessary coin. "Hell, if you need more, I'll reimburse you for it. Thank you, Lydia."
Lydia took the money, then moved to leave. "I'll leave my armor here. No sense in putting it on again just to take it off when I get to the inn. You make sure you clean up well before you try and get flirty." Lydia's eyes roamed up and down her thane's body. "You are a mess."
"In more ways that you know," she mumbled in reply.
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The water was still warm when she peeled off her dirty clothes and sank into the tub. It had been awkward at first, realizing that he was right below her as she stripped naked, but even if he could see anything through some gap in the floorboards, she believed he wouldn't look. Quintus was a gentleman. He'd taken the time to bring all of this water up while she was still snoring away. Lydia was right, she really needed to help with chores to make up for this treatment. She glanced over at the bed, and even from her distance she could see streaks of dirt sullying the pillowcase. Then, she looked down into the water, where she was disgusted to see it was already turning brown. This was NOT going to be a drawn-out affair.
Hurriedly, she scrubbed herself with the lavender-scented soap left out for her, making sure to get at the dirt under her nails, then gathered the nerve to dunk her head underwater and untangle the snarls in her hair. She could do a better job later, but it was at least an improvement. Finally, she stood, wringing out her short hair, and reached for the towel left warming near the fire. He really had thought of everything. What did she ever do to deserve someone like him?
A pang of guilt ate at her just then. Nothing, absolutely nothing. She had been a whore and deserved to be treated as such, not like a princess the way Quintus seemed to view her. Besides, she could easily tell how he liked to be well-kempt and put together even when he had been under stress in the most trying of times, with a cleanly shaven chin, neatly trimmed sideburns, and pristine pressed clothes despite all the substances he worked with throughout the day. Here she'd barged into his domain last night like some filthy vagabond. How did he stand it? Maybe this whole bathwater thing was his non-confrontational way of telling her he couldn't stand her condition… Maybe…
No! She was doing it again! She shivered, even her Nord resistance to the cold wearing thin, and reached for that warm towel, wrapping it around herself like an embrace. HIS embrace. He wasn't like that. He was kind and wanted to take care of her, and there was no reason to doubt it, no matter how things used to be back in Morthal.
Before she could get too lost in her bitter memories, she dried off and pulled out her clean set of clothes from her pack. It was the blue dress she'd worn the day Nurelion had passed, and since leaving home she could count on one hand the amount of times she'd put it on. Today would be one of those times. Regardless of what he was truly thinking, she would look nice for him, for this day she'd bought from Lydia. She'd show him she could clean up and be the kind of woman he'd like.
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He'd heard the water of the tub slosh around as she rose from the water and did his utmost not to imagine what the scene upstairs must look like. Trying to balance books did nothing to help; he just kept making silly errors in his figures. It took the digging of his nails into the palm of his hand to finally pry him from the thought of stray drops trailing down her naked body, hugging every curve. Maybe the bath had been a bad idea… What if some customer walked in and caught him all red in the face?
Luckily, it seemed to be a quiet morning. He could explain away the medical emergency last time, but there would be no explaining why she was here this morning, clearly making herself at home. There was no one to blame but himself for that much, but his first instinct had been to keep her close even though it complicated things today. He flat out wanted her to stay with him. Given the way they had taken to showing affection, wasn't that a natural thing to want? What would it take before they were a couple able to walk without shame in the marketplace, unafraid of gossip?
His musings were interrupted by the sound of her footsteps as she descended from upstairs. His eyes instantly drawn to her, he blinked in surprise at the sight of her in that dress. It was simple and practical as far as dresses went, but it may as well have been a fine Imperial ballgown seeing it on the mercenary. No more grime on her face, her clear, pale skin seemed to glow in the morning light. The long locks of hair that framed her face, while still damp, had been braided to form a crown around her head and tied off in back. Her eyes looked bluer today, perhaps due to her choice of attire, and he felt them watching for his reaction. It wasn't hard to spot.
"F-Fjori! You look beautiful!" Quintus stammered in wide-eyed reverence. When he noticed her look down uncomfortably, he realized perhaps this was not the best thing to say. "I mean, you are always beautiful, but this is a different KIND of beautiful. It's not that I thought you weren't before or anything. I just…ugh." He buried his face in his hands as he leaned onto the counter, wishing Akatosh, the god of time, could rewind it for him so he could try this again. "Please don't take any of that the wrong way."
Her flicker of insecurity was extinguished as soon as his own began, and she strode across the room so she stood before him at the counter. A hand snuck its way under his chin until she had guided his eyes to meet hers. "I know I usually look like I don't care. I wanted you to see what I COULD be."
"If you looked like this every day, Fjori, it wouldn't suit you. Just that once in a while to catch me off guard," he said quietly. His own hand reached out to caress her cheek. "You know I understand your job doesn't leave much room for personal maintenance, and already I've decided I like that wild look on you. You know, I still keep this mental image of the day I met you, when you came in with all those spider webs in your hair…" A smile played at the corner of his lips as he watched her blush. "It's what makes you Fjori."
"I…oh…I was worried…"She couldn't quite articulate it, but he seemed to understand.
"I'm just happy you're back, no matter what you look like when you walk through the door. Now…" He drew back, but when her hands fell to the wood of the counter, he trapped them in his own. "I know I can't shirk my duties, but surely I could shut down the shop for an hour and we could get some lunch while you are here in town."
"Here in the shop?" she questioned, confused.
Quintus took a deep breath, unsure of how she would take this prodding to go the next step. "Actually, I thought perhaps you'd accompany me to the marketplace and we could get something from one of the stalls."
"So, you're saying we should…go out," Fjori summarized while biting her lip. "In public."
He didn't like that unconscious display of worry and instinctively shrunk back, hands retreating from hers. "Does it bother you to be seen with me?" he asked in a low, dejected voice. "Would you rather we just…keep things hidden?"
Her eyes widened. "No, Quintus, that's not it…"
She seemed sincere in her denial of it being him. Perhaps… "Fjori, I did do some research while you were away. That's a whole story in and of itself, but the point is, I understand now what you were trying to tell me the day you left. Are you hesitant to be seen with me because you think the last Dragonborn shouldn't be distracted by a relationship with anyone and you're breaking some unwritten rule? Would it put you or me in danger if anyone knew?"
"Wait wait wait. You went looking up information about my destiny and all that stuff?" she stared incredulously, completely ignoring his question.
Quintus flinched. "It bothered me a lot not to know that about you, the things you had to deal with. I wanted to understand you better, and what you were going through. Was it…weird that I read an entire book on Dragonborns in one night while taking detailed notes for further review?"
"You…? All of that? Wow! No, it's really sweet!" she insisted, more surprised by this revelation than he would have anticipated. "I didn't realize you cared that much about me, that you would take the time to…you'd go out of your way to…"
"I couldn't say 'I love you' until I could help you with your burdens. Trust me, Fjori, reading some of those prophecies terrified me. I'm still terrified, thinking about what you have to do. And I understand why we aren't supposed to be together. All the same, I can't help but love you!" He blurted the final words and spun around to hide his burning face. "So, if I mistakenly get in your way, tell me to stop. I'm afraid I might do something that holds you back, something like wanting to walk with you in public."
She didn't say anything right away, but he heard the swishing of fabric as she swiftly moved around the counter. Strong hands wrapped around his waist from behind. "Truthfully, I hadn't considered that. There might be something to that danger theory, and Lydia would probably agree, but me being the Dragonborn was not the reason I have been so hesitant to go public with this. I just…had a bad experience before with someone else, someone who hid me away."
His brow furrowed. "There was someone else?"
She refused to elaborate. Now was not the time. "It surprises me that you would WANT to be seen with me, and I was only ever trying to protect you, not myself. It would feel really weird, but if you want people to know we are together, then I want it too. I want them to know that you are mine. In fact…" She took a deep, shaky breath. "It would maybe take a weight off I didn't even consider that I was carrying."
Now it was his turn to be befuddled. "You thought I wouldn't want to be seen with YOU? Divines, Fjori, I wish everyone knew! I wish we wouldn't have to hide anything!" He shook his head vigorously in denial. "I would love nothing more than to walk by your side, show off the woman who for some reason chose me."
When he tried to spin around, she held him fast. Not just yet. He couldn't see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. It was all so much to take in, so different than any past experience. "You know, I was going to ask you later, but you beat me to it. All that stuff about what my role is, whether knowing I was the last Dragonborn would change your mind about being in a relationship with me. I felt bad about springing it on you, and I couldn't stop thinking about what you must think the entire time I was away."
"Other than being really hard to fathom, it doesn't change how I feel about you. Just like learning you had dragon powers didn't change anything."
"Even if I'm in danger all the time? Even if one day I wouldn't come back because I'd fallen?"
He swallowed thickly. "I've thought about it a lot, but if I asked you to leave now, it would hurt just as much as if you had been killed. No, maybe worse. If you have sixty years left, or six months left, I want to keep spending it with you. I want you, I want us, up until the point where a relationship would jeopardize the world. I know there will be sacrifices. I know you won't be able to stay for very long, and visits may be few and far between, but I don't care, Fjori. None of that can make me stop what I feel for you."
"Tell me again what it is you feel," she breathed as the air was caught in her throat. There was no point in trying to wait it out. She knew her falling tears were soaking into the shoulders of his tunic and he felt it.
She could sense him straighten, like his resolve was set. "I love you, Fjori." Her response was a choked gasp as she pressed her damp cheek against his shoulderblade. He desperately wished he was not facing the opposite way so he could read her expressions. "I know you've said it before, but I want to hear you say it again. Where do I stand?"
"I love…" She paused to lick her lips. "I love you too, Quintus."
"Then, it doesn't have to be complicated, right?"
Just then, the door to the shop opened with a cheery 'ding', and Quintus had to grit his teeth to keep from cursing. Yes, apparently it did have to be complicated. He cleared his throat. "Why don't you head upstairs and relax while I help this customer?" He didn't whisper it, didn't try to hide it, but rather let his voice carry. She nodded wordlessly and released her grip on him, slinking to the stairs without letting the customer see her face. Quintus was going to take the bullet for her, it seemed, and she was too out of sorts to protest.
As soon as she released him, he spun around to find Revyn Sadri scratching his head through unruly ashen hair. "Bad time? I can come back," the Dunmer offered graciously, though he couldn't hide the way his eyes studied Fjori's back as she withdrew from the room.
Quintus waved him off, checking her status out of the corner of his eye. "No need, it's fine. How can I help you today Revyn? The usual assortment for the general goods store?"
"Indeed. How soon can you fill it?"
"I can take care of that right now. I have plenty already prepared and in stock. Give me a few moments and you can take them with you right away."
"That would be wonderful. 500 septims, correct?"
"Yes, that it is. I'll be right back with your order." Being in his element calmed him, though Sadri's politeness certainly helped the situation. He only hoped Fjori was okay upstairs. Moving to the back room he grabbed the potions necessary for the order with practiced ease and filled a spare crate with the goods. When he stepped back out, the merchant had the payment already sitting on the counter. "Thank you for your business as usual, Revyn."
"Of course." The Dunmer cleared his throat uneasily, and spoke in hushed tones. "Say Quintus, forgive me for intruding on personal affairs, but does Fjori know about that other woman?"
"What other woman?" the alchemist wondered, looking at a loss.
"The one in your house as we speak!"
Realization dawned on him and he face-palmed with a moan. "Revyn, that WAS Fjori."
Revyn blinked. "It WAS?"
"She's got a day off so she isn't wearing an entire set of armor, if that was what tricked you," he supplied while still shaking his head.
"By Azura, I would never have guessed. I suppose I've never seen her in a dress… Well, that's good then. No problem."
"Wait, Revyn, do you know Fjori or something?"
Revyn chuckled quietly. "Between you and me, she helped me return a stolen ring I'd accidentally purchased with incredible discretion. No one was the wiser. Certainly saved my hide. Besides, who doesn't know Fjori? She stopped the Butcher, brought a great deal of business to the vendors in the city, and even knocked that racist pig Rolf to the ground when he started running his mouth at one of our own. I don't know about up here, but down in the Grey Quarter she's more than welcome. We all like the idea that she's taken a fancy to you. Seems fitting that two nice people make each other happy."
Quintus turned the color of his hair. "It was that obvious, huh?"
Revyn quirked an eyebrow. "What, were you trying to be discreet or something?"
"…maybe."
This earned a hearty laugh from the customer. "You didn't expect that to work with Viola Giordano living in the city, did you?"
"Probably not."
"Well, feel free to give the old busy-body a show sometime, huh? That will give her something to blab about for a while." With another laugh, Revyn picked up his crate and headed for the door. "Give my regards to Fjori."
"Right," Quintus responded faintly. Well, all the better they were both ready to come forward, because it apparently wasn't going to wait for them to change their minds.
Once his customer had left the shop, he scurried upstairs to check on Fjori. He found her stripping the sheets from the bed, far more composed than he had left her, perhaps given the task she was focused on. "Are you all right? That conversation didn't actually end the way I would have imagined…"
"I swear, the Divines are out to get us," she grumbled, crumpling up the bottom sheet and tossing it to the floor.
"I'd agree, but then again I think we bring it upon ourselves," he admitted with a small smile. "We were kind of standing in the middle of the shop during business hours."
"Yeah, I suppose." She paused her work and fixed her gaze on him. "But to answer your original question, the one you asked like half an hour ago, I'd love to get lunch with you."
He couldn't suppress his beaming expression at her response. "And may I hold your hand when we go out?" Fjori ducked her head shyly in response to his eagerness, but nodded in confirmation, furthering his joy. He couldn't help but close the gap between them and give her a quick, chaste kiss on the side of her mouth. "I can't wait. Any plans for the meantime?"
"I'll dump the bathwater, then take the clothes to the washing area by the well and get them cleaned up. Should keep me plenty busy."
"Here, let me help with the tub. I'm heading that way anyhow."
So each grabbed a side of the tub and transported it down the stairs and out the door without losing hardly any of the water within. She knew logically she could have handled the task herself, having honed muscles from extensive training and given his lack thereof, but somehow doing it with him made it seem easier.
The first sight of the two of them together in public was therefore them sharing the burden.