A/N:

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Warmth.

Sweet, wonderful warmth. It felt like a hearth on a winter day, a cold morning under the covers. He felt languid, loose, like a cat stretching out in the sun. He was reveling in it, delirious with it. He took a deep breath in, the scent of lavender and sweat and steel filling his senses. There was a weight on him like a blanket, and although something like that would normally concern him, he welcomed it. He nuzzled into something soft and supple, warm and alive.

He felt, rather than heard, a soft sigh. A gentle breath on his neck.

And then his blood was set aflame. Every part of his body felt like it was being jabbed with thousands of hot sharp needles, and his skin prickled with gooseflesh. His eyes fluttered open.

It was as though he could not move. Like his body was separate from his mind—he knew he needed to react, to move, but his limbs would not cooperate. How could he? Jackie was holding him—one of her arms was supporting his head and the other rested lightly on his bicep. They were pressed close together, their chests touching. Her legs were twined around his like vines, and she was radiating a sweet warmth that he wished he could drown in.

She smelled… wonderful. How had he never noticed? She smelled of herbs and dirt and something else, something that was purely her. Her skin, her breath… Azura help him, it was almost too much to bear. He was frozen where he was despite the heat shooting through his body. One other smell enticed him—metallic, hot and tantalizing. It was like weapons, swords, the tips of arrows, or a blacksmith's forge. Iron.

He focused his eyes, and for a moment his vision was filled with tanned olive skin and a tangle of dark braids. Bradas inhaled that sweet scent once more, feeling a strange strength… no, not strength. Restlessness.

He shut his eyes again and nuzzled gently into her soft neck, feeling as though he had no control over what he was doing. There was a strong, slow pulse there, in that junction between her shoulder and jaw. She had to be fast asleep, unaware of his touch. If he just turned his head a few inches, his lips would be right there, his teeth would be right above that pulse point...

Bradas' eyes snapped open and he shoved her away in a panic.

He ignored her indignant squawk and stumbled to his feet. No, no, no, this was wrong, so wrong.

"What? What's going on?" she mumbled, eyes tired and unfocused. Her hand went to her dagger and he would have laughed if the situation hadn't been so serious—she thought that he was rousing her because something was threatening them. She had no idea that she was the one truly in danger.

She looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. He was speechless for a few seconds, trying to think of what to say. How could he tell her that he had been considering how her blood would taste? Wondering if it would really be all that bad?

With some effort she stood up and walked slowly toward him, like he was some deer in the woods. For a second, she really was the picture of a long-suffering companion. With a small sigh, she held her hand out to steady him. "Hey, it's just a dream. Why don't you lie back down? Oh! Or do you want some water while you're up? It's nice and cool…" she cajoled with a placating smile.

"If only this could be a dream," he said, his voice hoarse. Jackie's face fell.

"Wait, you're actually awake?" she questioned.

"Of course I am," he snapped, and then immediately regretted losing his temper. He took a deep breath before continuing: "How long have I been asleep?"

"Just since this morning and half the day," she replied, squinting her eyes as she looked out to the wilderness beyond the cave. "You've been kind of out of it. And, uh, hallucinating, occasionally…" she grimaced. "Are you feeling better?"

He was, but that was the problem. He felt stronger, had more energy… unnatural energy. He tried to think, to put his mind to work, but it was difficult to string thoughts together when she was questioning him, sitting there and looking so earnest and helpful. "We must find a shrine," he finally said.

She blinked. "What?"

"To pray," he said, knowing full well that she was completely confused. "Get ready now, I'll explain as we walk."

"Okay, but don't you have to be bitten by a vampire to become one? And then they make you drink their blood."

Judging by the disgusted look on his face, that was wrong. "I don't know where you get ideas like that," he muttered.

"Is your skin burning?" They were out in the sun, after all.

"Not yet," he answered, taking long strides through the swamp land. "This disease takes days to completely take hold. I don't intend to wait that long."

"What's the cure?"

"We can either get a potion or pray at a shrine. We're more likely to come across a shrine out here than a good alchemist."

After that she fell silent, and they continued their forward march with few words. Jackie kept pace with him as well as she could, sensing that he was in a bad mood. She preferred not to deal with him when he got short and snappy like this, so she turned her gaze forward and hoped they reached a town or settlement soon.

By the time night fell, all trace of previous illness had disappeared and been replaced by an eerie, unnerving restlessness that was even more powerful than before. Nausea had been replaced by hunger, and his aches had been replaced with raw energy.

Bradas knew the signs and symptoms of Sanguinare Vampiris, but he had never felt them first hand. He felt as though he was an arrow, drawn back far and ready to fire. He could hardly look at Jackie, and didn't even want to talk to her until this was over.

Prickly shame kept creeping into the back of his mind. How could he think of a friend that way? Like a piece of meat rather than a person. A person he was trying to look out for. A person who had stayed up for a good portion of the night to try and see him through a sickness she had never even heard of.

They'd been unnervingly close when he'd awakened. Common sense told him that it was a matter of body heat, but it was… too close, perhaps. He hadn't pushed her away soon enough, and he'd like it too much.

He eyed her discreetly as they walked. The moonlight shone down on her face, allowing him to look upon her features clearly. She was fetching, for a human; even he could admit it. He'd be a fool to deny it, even.

Her hair was soft and smooth, or so he had discovered earlier in the cave, and she'd tied it into her usual crown braid—a style that served to soften her features and make her look… pretty, in an innocent sort of way. Her face had not been touched with pockmarks and she had straight, white teeth that he'd rarely seen in humans. She held little resemblance to any human race that he knew of. Jackie possessed a beauty that seemed exotic, or at least it did to a Dunmer like himself.

With a frown, he reminded himself that he could hardly stand most humans. He wasn't sure he liked living with the knowledge that one could be so… comely. He preferred Dunmer women, but at the moment his addled mind was picking out the endearing things about his human companion.

Companion. Friend. For that reason alone he did not need to be thinking about these things.

Her dark eyes slid to meet his own, and he looked away. The last thing he needed was for her to find out he'd been staring. As if thinking about drinking her blood before wasn't bad enough.

"Look, a light! Do you think it's a village?" The very subject of his thoughts snapped him out of them and he looked up to see that there was, in fact, a faint light just over the hill they were hiking.

"Thank the Gods," he huffed, pushing all of his traitorous thoughts to the back of his mind. There was sure to be a shrine to some god there, he didn't care which. With any luck this nightmare would soon be over.

The town they had reached was relatively small, but Jackie was still incredibly happy to see it. She'd been too distracted by Bradas to focus on it, but she had been really, really worried about finding civilization. They had limited supplies and Skyrim was a big, wild place. It could have been much longer before they'd found a village.

Speaking of wild, Bradas was starting to make her jittery with how restless he was. She wanted to tell him to cool it, but she figured he had a right to be a little nervous. Vampirism was a fear across all realms, apparently. Although she was still kind of fuzzy on how praying was going to help.

She hated to disrespect Bradas' beliefs. She had always felt that something was out there—some kind of higher power. She'd grown up Catholic, for Christ's sake. But honestly, praying illnesses away? That sounded like a recipe for disaster. So while Bradas searched for a shrine, she was planning to find an alchemist and convince them to give her a Cure Disease potion.

First, though, they needed to find a place to eat and rest. They trailed through the quiet, sleepy town, keeping their eyes open for any signs of a tavern. They found one in short time.

"An inn," Bradas said, his breath barely visible in the cold air.

"How much money do we have?"

"We have some things to sell," he replied. "Our leftover potions should be enough." He opened the door and they stepped into the warm tavern.

A soft 'oh' escaped her lips as heat from the hearth washed over them. Bradas walked past her and approached the bar, where a weary Redguard tended to food and drink. Jackie rubbed her hands together over the fire a few times before following his lead.

The two of them approached the innkeeper and Jackie wound up being the one to negotiate the price of the room. They sold all but a few potions in exchange for two nights at the Moorside Inn. Jackie got the feeling that the woman helping them felt more than a little sorry for them, and was giving them a bit of a break. Either way, she wasn't going to complain.

"Thanks, miss," she said gratefully. She glanced to her silent companion, who was looking sicker by the minute. "Um, just one more thing—do you know of a shrine we could… pray at, maybe?" The question sounded stupid and she fought the urge to wince. She was trying to best to be flexible here; she'd seen crazy things since coming to Skryim and had learned very quickly to believe in things she previously hadn't.

The innkeeper, Jonna, didn't react as though Jackie had asked a ridiculous question. "There aren't many shrines here in Morthal. But…" she glanced at Bradas for a few more seconds than necessary. The Dunmer frowned and looked right back at her.

"We just want to pray," Jackie interjected, wondering what the innkeeper was thinking. Could she tell that Bradas was sick?

The other woman seemed reluctant, and eyed Bradas with some suspicion. To his credit, he didn't shy away from the scrutiny. "Alright. There is one shrine that I know of for sure. Here in town we don't keep many, but a ways south there's a shrine to Dibella. Don't know if that helps you any."

"It does, thanks," Jackie assured, although on the inside she wasn't so certain.

That night they stayed in the same room, in separate beds. Bradas was thankful for that, at least. The last thing he needed was a repeat of earlier that day, but with bloodshed thrown into the mix. He hadn't turned yet, and if the texts he'd read on the subject were right, he still had some time. But an unnatural hunger churned his gut. His thoughts were making dangerous twists and turns despite his efforts to stay distracted.

With a frown he shifted on the hard mattress and tried to get comfortable. It was impossible.

Jackie, for her part, had fallen asleep the moment her head touched the pillow, and for that he felt a little guilty. He didn't know how long he'd been in the throes of illness last night (he'd have to ask later about the hallucinating), but it occurred to him that she had been awake the whole time. She'd barely had any sleep, and it was because of him.

Ah, that was all he needed: more guilt.

Bradas sat up quietly, realizing that sleep was not going to visit him tonight. Rather than continue trying, he stood up and entered the bar to see if any late night drinkers were willing to talk or play some cards.

The next day, Jackie was up early. They wasted no time in getting ready for the journey to the shrine and they updated the map, marking the location of the shrine and the abandoned shack.

Morthal. Bradas could hardly believe they had been taken so far off course. From Jackie's quiet, distressed looks he could see that she was feeling the same. They would, no doubt, be talking about it later, but right now they had more urgent matters to attend to.

They walked south, as per the instructions given by the barmaid.

"This is the middle of nowhere," Jackie was complaining, marching dutifully behind him as they made their way over the hills. "Why don't we turn back and I'll make you a potion or something? I'm sure I can get some ingredients together."

"Have you ever even brewed a Cure Disease potion?" he asked, his voice tired. He didn't understand Jackie's objection to prayer—as far as he knew, she hadn't dedicated herself to any particular deity that didn't allow it.

"No," came her voice, which had become much closer than the last time she'd spoken. "Do you need help?"

"No. Just a moment," he panted, slowing down and placing his hands on his knees.

Bradas found himself feeling fragile and aching in one moment, and restless and agitated in the next. He'd go from hot to cold, sick to starving, all in a matter of minutes. And to top it all off, he was thinking about blood—he couldn't be sure if it was due to his turning, or all in his mind. But he could feel his human companion beside him, her heart beating strong as stood before him with a worried frown.

"I just think a potion might be a little more effective than prayer?" she explained, her deep brown eyes shining. That look made him feel as though he'd been punched in the gut. He hated feeling so weak, so feeble. He hated her concerned looks and offers of help. He chaffed at her suggestions, and felt guilty for it because he knew she was just worried.

"A potion that complex requires ingredients we do not have," he finally replied.

"I guess," she sighed, moving ever forward. "I don't see this shrine she was talking about."

"We have a little longer to go," he said, remembering the instructions. According to the innkeeper, there was a shrine to Dibella that the local girls went to in order to pray for luck in love. He found it all very quaint.

Jackie had clearly taken in the information with obvious skepticism, the look on her face the very same as when he'd explained giant spiders to her. She hadn't quite believed him until she'd seen them herself.

"Hey, that looks like something," she said. He felt a little bit of his strength return at the prospect of reaching their destination. Sure enough, there sat a shrine atop a large stone, adorned with flowers and a few septims—offerings to the goddess.

"Yes, this is it," he said, relieved.

Kneeling before the shrine, he plucked a small health potion out of his pocket and set it on the shrine as an offering. "Forgive me, Azura," he sighed. Then he bowed his head and muttered a quiet prayer.

Jackie stayed quiet, trying to be respectful and not so cynical. She may not have been so sure about this, but she still had the decency to be reverent. She even crossed her arms and bowed her head like in church, if not just to have something to do.

She was trying to be open-minded. She really was.

She had no problems with prayer—in fact, she had been sort of a believer before being swept away from home. She respected that people turned to God (or, in this case, one of multiple deities) in times of hardship, and she truly felt that every belief system had a measure of truth and goodness.

But praying diseases away truly crossed her boundaries. She'd seen so many strange things since she'd come here, but this was really pushing it. Sure, it his decision, but… this was too much of a risk.

To put things simply, she knew that a potion would work. Praying to the Divines might not. It was a matter of faith that she wasn't sure she had. She wanted nothing more than to go back to Morthal and search out ingredients to find a way to make a potion that would help.

Jackie watched as he prayed, worry churning her gut. If this didn't work, then what would they do? He was right when he said they didn't have much in the way of money or ingredients.

She couldn't contain her shock when a soft white light surrounded Bradas, swirling gently around his form and the disappearing. With a sigh he stood up and turned toward her, his eyes weary but no longer surrounded by dark circles.

"I think that did the trick," he said, giving his back a stretch. "Perhaps you should try, just in case."

Jackie couldn't respond—she just stared at him, taking silent inventory of every difference between him now and five minutes ago.

He frowned. "It's only a suggestion."

"But…" she finally found her voice, and to his surprise it was shaking. "That's not possible."

Despite being incredibly exhausted, he was curious. "You've been… hesitant about this since we left the inn," he said.

"Yes, because…" she seemed at a loss for words. "You can't just pray sickness away. That's… are you sure you feel better?"

"I'll feel much better after getting some sleep, but yes," he replied, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over him. "You aren't going to pray at the shrine, then?"

She shook her head, pressing her lips tightly together. "No… I mean, maybe another time."

They travelled back to the inn and Bradas made a beeline for his bed. Jackie suspected he'd sleep for a good long while, giving her time to think about what she'd just seen. She laid back in her own bed and stared at the ceiling.

Bradas couldn't comprehend it, but seeing a divine force work like that… it jarred her. Scared her.

The shock she was feeling right now was different to when she'd seen her first dragon, but just as potent. Something about it reached deep within her and shook up her beliefs. Beliefs that were already challenged every day that she was here.

People had spoken of the Divines in her presence. Just listening to people talk was informative; she could even name a few of the Divines. But she'd never imagined that a higher power was actually taking such an obvious role in people's lives.

What about God? The one she had grown up wondering about, the one her family prayed to? Were these deities more or less real? Was the shrine just a magic trick, or was it true celestial power? Did the God of her childhood exist alongside these Divines, working in a separate realm?

It felt like there was no end to her questions, and she wasn't sure she'd ever get a satisfying answer.

A/N:

Yeah, yeah, I know there's no shrine outside of Morthal. Let's just pretend. ;)

Great news, everybody! My computer finally came back! All fixed and everything. Happy day! So of course I'm spending all my free time writing on this fic haha. I'm also going through all previous chapters and doing a little editing—not big story-changing stuff, just making everything flow a little better. :)

Okay, so, this was a more… contemplative chapter. Lots of thinking for both of them! Next time there will be more action and some good old fashioned hijinks from our heroes.

Also, I did want to take the chance to reflect on what Jackie must think about the Divines. I didn't want to talk too much about religion or anything, but I think it's definitely worth exploring! She would definitely be shaken by an experience like that.

Thanks again for all the support! I seriously have the best reviewers. You're all amazing. I love you. Like, for real. You make my day!