Aaaannnnddd...I'm back! Again. Thanks to all of you who fav'd/followed/reviewed while I was gone. Between NaNoWriMo in November and the holidays in December, life has been hectic, but I'm back with another chapter for you. Hope you like it! Happy reading!
Clumps of snow slid from Adaria's boots, melting into tiny puddles on the floor as the Dragonborn and her mage companion stared at each other for the briefest of moments. It didn't take Adaria long to figure out what was going on. The top drawer of her dresser stood wide open, a set of ancient shrouded armor hanging from Marcurio's hands as a mixture of fear and confusion flitted across the Imperial's face. He looked like a guilty child from this angle.
Adaria let out a long sigh. Damn it, but she needed a babysitter for this man.
Without a word, the Dragonborn crossed over to where Marcurio stiffly stood and, reaching out one gauntleted hand, brought one fist down lightly on the top of his head.
"What do you think you're doing?" the woman inquired, narrowing her eyes at him.
He seemed to relax visibly when he realized that she wasn't angry with him.
"Um...well...I was just looking for some extra blankets to keep warm and I thought you might have some in here," Marcurio responded sheepishly, his eyes momentarily darting over toward the unlocked chest in the opposite corner of the room.
Briefly Adaria glanced around, noting the time-worn journal lying open on top of the bed as well.
"Have you been through every drawer and box in this house?" the Dragonborn inquired, sighing again.
"Uh...not every one...I don't think…"
Adaria tried not to roll her eyes as she shook her head at the man and turned back to the fire pit.
"You could have just gone outside and gotten more firewood," she said, poking at the dying embers with her Blades sword.
"But it's cold out there," Marcurio pouted.
"If you can't walk the three paces to the wood pile, you're not going to be able to make it back to Dawnstar with me."
"Of course I will," the mage responded, his tone slightly teasing. "I'll have you to keep me warm."
"Says the fire mage."
Marcurio laughed at this, and Adaria could feel herself relaxing at the sound. It was a comfort to hear his laughter after the nightmare she had suffered through during the night. She paused, though, when a contemplative look crossed the man's face as he looked back down at the light armor he held in his hands.
"I was wondering, though…" he mused, appearing slightly conflicted. "Adaria...why do you have Dark Brotherhood armor?"
He looked up at her again, sincerity reflected in those warm brown eyes.
The Dragonborn glanced briefly at the armor, then shrugged.
"I pulled it off their leader," the woman responded, spreading out the coals to cool. "She made the mistake of threatening me. I took the liberty of relieving her of her life. You might call what you hold there a trophy for destroying the Dark Brotherhood. There are other things in the drawer as well. Thalmor armor, thief armor, anything that looked mildly interesting to me at the time."
Marcurio chuckled slightly at this, as though both sheepish and relieved, then put the armor back into the drawer and pushed it shut.
"I see," the mage said, turning back to look at her. "I'll admit, I was a bit worried that maybe you were secretly one of them. I mean, I was afraid you might be an assassin or something like that."
Adaria paused at this, her heart sinking slightly at the man's words, and she had to will herself not to let it show on her face. So, that was what had been going through his mind. She couldn't blame him really, but still…
The woman remained quiet for a moment, then sheathed her sword and stood to her feet while still staring down at the gradually dying coals.
"I see," she responded quietly, trying to restrain the emotion she heard in her own voice. "Tell me, Marcurio...would you have come to hate me if I was?"
She glanced at the man out of the corner of her eye, and he cocked his head slightly at her question.
"What do you mean?" the mage inquired.
"Would you have come to hate me if it turned out that I was an assassin?"
Marcurio pursed his lips in thought for a moment, and, unable to remain emotionless any longer, Adaria turned her face away, trying to hide the nervousness and sadness she felt creeping into her eyes. Damn those dragon eyes. In the end, they always betrayed her.
"Well, I suppose it probably would have frightened me if you were," Marcurio said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Adaria's heart sank even further. Of course he would have been frightened. Who wouldn't?
"Although…"
His voice took on the same playful spark Adaria had grown used to.
"I can't imagine myself leaving you even if you were a member of the Dark Brotherhood," he continued, a smile evident in his voice. "I mean, honestly, how could you ever survive without me?"
A look of surprise swept across Adaria's face at this, and she closed her eyes quickly, taking in a deep breath to steady herself. So he really thought he would have stayed by her side even if she had been a member of the Dark Brotherhood? Indeed, he was an idiot. But his question, though sarcastic and teasing, was valid enough. It had been too long now. Her days without him by her side seemed little more than a distant memory. How had she survived without him? It was hard to remember now.
Adaria was so completely lost in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice the awkward silence that had fallen over the room until she heard Marcurio clear his throat uneasily.
"Adaria?"
The woman turned slightly to look at him as he continued, "If the road to Dawnstar is open now, maybe we should go turn in our bounty?"
He was eyeing her closely, as though looking for a sign that everything was all right.
The Dragonborn nodded softly in response, then glanced back over at the journal still lying open on the bed nearby.
"We will. Shortly," the woman said, turning and crossing over toward the unlocked chest in the far corner of the room. "However, there is something I would like to give you first."
"Give me?" the mage inquired, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. Then with a chuckle, he added, "And it's not even mead?"
One corner of Adaria's mouth twitched slightly in amusement.
"Not this time," she responded, kneeling down next to the chest and running one hand along the floor in front of it.
Marcurio leaned over curiously as she did so, and he jumped slightly in surprise when one particularly large, narrow stone in the floor popped up, sliding away to reveal a secret compartment beneath. His jaw dropped as Adaria reached in, pulling out a bronze-colored staff with a geometrical design and an ice-blue gem wedged into the top.
"What in the… Has that been there the whole time?"
Adaria nodded.
"I built this house specifically to conceal this staff. It is the most valuable treasure I own."
Then with that, she held it out toward him, and for once, Marcurio actually seemed speechless. He stared first at her, then at the staff, then at her, then back at the staff. After what seemed an eternity, however, he finally took it, flexing his broad hand around the metal rod as he stared at what she had just given him.
"What peculiar designs…" the mage mused, eyeing the staff closely. "Geometric angles...a particularly solid composition...unusual metallic alloy...it seems like something you might find in a Dwemer ruin but it looks too new to be an artifact…"
Marcurio glanced up at Adaria with a look of wonder on his face.
"Adaria, what is this?"
Without answering, the Dragonborn crossed over to the bed, gingerly lifting the journal the mage had left there and staring at the handwriting scrawled across its yellowed pages.
"You were reading this journal, yes?" the dragon-eyed woman questioned softly.
"Yes."
"Then you have read the notes about the Aetherium Forge and the research on it done by the author of this journal?"
"I have," Marcurio answered with a slight nod. "It was quite fascinating. I do know a little about aetherium, though I never studied on it extensively. However, judging by the journal, it seems that this Katria believed that the Dwemer used a special, long-lost forge to create their aetherium artifacts."
Adaria nodded at this.
"She was right," the Dragonborn answered softly. "The staff you hold there contains the last remnants of aetherium left to the known world. Thanks to Katria, I was able to find the Aetherium Forge and use it to create that staff. There is no other like it. Try it."
Marcurio looked baffled for a moment, then held out the staff and activated it. His jaw dropped when, in a blur of light, a Dwarven spider appeared on the floor at his feet, and he stared at the little machine for a moment before kneeling down and examining it in wonder.
"A Dwarven spider, huh? I don't think I've ever seen one up close before…"
"Most people do not wish to," Adaria responded. "For the average person, even one of these little machines is deadly. I don't know the full extent of the staff's power, but it should be powerful enough, at least, to allow you to create a guard of your own should you ever find yourself in danger."
The mage stared at the automaton a moment longer, examining it from every possible angle as it quietly hummed along with the soft hum of the staff, and he didn't move until the time ran out and the dwarven spider disappeared in a puff of magic mist. Then with that, he stood to his feet, staring at Adaria with a look he seemed to have given her more than once since they had first met, a look which the Dragonborn had never managed to place.
"Adaria...why give this to me?" he inquired, his tone more serious than she had ever heard it be before. "I mean, not that I mind, but...this is an extremely valuable piece of equipment."
For a moment, Adaria stared back at him quietly. Why, indeed. Perhaps she herself didn't even know. On the outset, the most logical response would be because he had seemed interested in the Aetherium Forge. And after all, it wasn't as though Adaria herself could use the staff with any amount of skill. And yet...maybe that wasn't the only reason she had wanted him to have it…
The image of Marcurio, bloodied and lifeless, flashed before Adaria's mind for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day, and she clenched the hilt of the Oathblade until her knuckles turned white, trying desperately to chase the thought from her mind. Or...maybe that was why. Maybe it was just that she wanted him to have some sort of protection beyond himself. She wanted him to have something...a guard of some sort...more than just the sword, Eduj, and his own magic...to protect him from all that might do him harm. Possibly to even protect him from herself.
At this, the Dragonborn quickly turned away, her sharp silver eyes focused on the door leading out of the cabin.
"I suppose it is simply because I think you, as a mage, can appreciate it in a way I never could," she answered at length.
It was a lie. She knew it. But she just couldn't bring herself to admit the truth. If she did, no doubt he would have questions...questions she really didn't want to ever have to answer.
"And in any case," Adaria added quickly, "I think Katria would be happy knowing that someone as skilled as you was using the result of her life's work."
"Aww, now you're making me blush," Marcurio said teasingly, leaning over her shoulder slightly.
"Shut up."
Then with that Adaria turned and pulled her rucksack off the floor, throwing the straps over her shoulders.
"Anyhow," the woman said, adjusting the weight on her back, "we should be heading to Dawnstar. The path is safe enough, and we'll want to hurry if we wish to avoid getting caught by another snowstorm."
"We have to go out there?" Marcurio pouted, glaring at the door. "Have you ever thought of working in Cyrodiil during the winter?"
"No," Adaria replied quickly. "Cyrodiil is not an option. Now quit pouting and grab your pack. You're a fire mage. You should be able to stay plenty warm out there."
"Fine," the Imperial responded, heaving a dramatic sigh as he reached for his rucksack.
Neither one said anything until their packs were secured on their backs. Then, seeing that they were both ready, Adaria reached for the door, swinging it open and ignoring the biting chill that blasted her in the face. She was about to step outside when Marcurio's voice again caught her ear.
"By the way, Adaria," the man said, following after her, "I was wondering...who was this Katria? You seem to have known her fairly well."
The Dragonborn paused at this, staring up at the grey sky that stretched all the way to the horizon. Then, quietly, she responded simply, "Hardly. Though you might say that, before I met you, Katria was the closest thing I ever had to a friend...And she was a ghost."
And then with that, the woman set out along the path leading away from the cabin, the sound of delicate snowflakes crunching under her feet.