Chapter Pairing: Jon Battle-Born x Olfina Gray-Mane

Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. NSFW.

A stolen moment of peace between two forbidden lovers. War and hardened hearts make every day difficult, but they dream of a future where they'll finally have peace.

A vignette proving that it's often about the small things.

Safe Haven

The room was wrapped in a wonderful hush, and as he laid on his back in the feather bed, he revelled in the peaceful quiet.

It had been months since he'd been here, but hardly anything had changed. It was still as clean and neat as a pin. The same colorful rag-rug laid on the floor; the same dried wreathes and needle-works adorned the pale walls. It still smelled like her – honey soap and the lavender she loved, mixed with the scent that was only her. The scent that hooked right into his chest, and set him aching for her.

Being here made him feel as if he was wrapped up in her, surrounded by her. And he revelled in that as much as he did the quiet. He could hear the faintest sounds of the city outside, far away on the street below. But here, they couldn't touch them.

Here and here alone, they didn't have to hide.

'Jon? What are you thinking about?'

The sound of her voice was soft and sweet as a bird's as it broke into his reverie, and even just that was enough to make his cock give a lazy jolt from beneath the quilt he'd pulled up to their waists. It'd been a mere handful of minutes ago that they'd been tumbling over the bedspread, joined and sweating and frantic – but that never mattered. His body's thirst for her seemed to be as insatiable as his heart's.

Sighing, he smiled and looked down at her. Olfina was nestled against his side, resting her head atop his arm, and the fingers of one slender hand were drawing idle circles through the hair on his chest, as was often her wont. They'd drawn the curtains, like always, but it was a bright day outside, and the pale linen had light splashing through it enough to bathe the room. It caught and gleamed in her silver hair, and made flawless the lovely cream of her freckled skin. Her cheeks and chest were flushed a soft rose from contented exertion, and seeing it drew another sigh from somewhere deep.

'Oh...not too much, Fina.' Tenderly, he caught the hand with the circling fingers in his own much bigger one, and drew it up and across to his face, so he could plant it with an open-mouthed kiss.

As clear and chiming as a bell, she giggled. 'That good, huh?'

His smile tugged wider at the corners, and he snorted. 'Always. And you know it.' Then he shrugged, ever so slightly jostling her in the crook of his arm.

'And I guess I was just thinking how it feels sort of strange, to be back here after so long.'

She squeezed his fingers linked with her own, and nodded against his chest.

'I know what you mean. But it's a good strange, you know?'

'Definitely.' He thought of where they'd been spending the last several months, and had to fight back a shudder. The first cold touch of dark, familiar anger brushed against the edges of their light-washed room, and he pushed it ruthlessly away.

But she must have felt him tense, because she rose up onto one forearm to look at him, and the pale blue eyes that roved his face were a bit sad, and full of knowing.

'I understand.'

Of course she did. Instinctively she unlinked their hands, and reached hers back and around his hip. She headed for the dark and angry bruises that scrawled his lower back. And he let her, leaning slightly into her to give her better access. Her fingers were cool and feather light as they touched him, and they brought only relief – no pain. He hissed out a jagged breath as she touched him, but she understood that, too, and murmured his name on a soft hushing sound before leaning forward to drop a kiss at his hairline.

She'd seen the bruises yesterday, not long after he'd received them, and had brought up herbs from the Mare's root cellar to make something for his pain. He'd watched her mash them in a mortar into sticky green paste, biting her lips with tears in her eyes, while everyone focused on him. And this afternoon when they'd tumbled into bed, she'd taken great pains not to bump them with her heels.

That was just her – soft. Sweet. He looked up again at the slender young woman stretched out above him, staring at him so tenderly as she touched him; his sweet Olfina. A woman who'd been named for a man who couldn't be more different than her if he tried.

Not that his father ever tried.

Stop it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shoved at the sticky, needling thought, and the surge of anger, stronger than the first. Not here. Not on our time.

When he opened his eyes again, they locked with hers. She was staring right at him, and he bit off an oath.

'I'm sorry,' he half whispered, half croaked, and gritted his teeth. 'I'm sorry. I hate bringing him here.'

'You have nothing to apologize for, Jon.' Her voice was soft, balm on his nerves. 'He's a part of you. And you deserve better. We can talk about it, if you want to.'

He didn't – he did. He reached up to tuck a thick chunk of silver hair behind the shell of her ear, and wrestled with himself. Then he sighed, and gave in. He could always talk to her.

'It's just been hard – you know. I've hated the way we've had to do things lately...hate bringing you anywhere near him.'

Since Avulstein had come home to stay, their usual routine had been in shambles, and they'd had to meet in his family home, instead. It had been hard, in more ways than one, and he blanched at some of the memories: having to shim his door because his lock had long since been broken, and sneak through his window like a fugitive when he was sure nobody would notice. Having to sneak Olfina back through the same window, and twice she'd nearly fallen from the trellis. They'd taken to him propping her on top of his dresser for a quick, desperate fuck, with his hand clamped over her mouth, because he knew his bed frame made too much noise, and the dresser was farthest from the door. Afterward they'd lay fully clothed on the floor, tangled in each other's arms and listening as quiet as mice, listening, listening for any sounds other than their breath and heartbeats. It was dangerous; too many times they could've been caught, and while he didn't know what his father would do if he found Olfina in that house, he knew it wouldn't be good.

Thinking of the possibilities made bile rise in the back of his throat, but he had no choice but to swallow it down, as he'd been doing for months. Because they had no choice – for a while after her brother came home, they'd stopped meeting up. It had been nothing short of torture. And then Olfina had come to him, in tears and begging, and he hadn't been able to deny her. Neither of them could give it up. So they'd kept playing cloak and dagger. And the fear had choked him, all the while.

He realized he'd lost himself in thought, and came jerking back with a shake of his head before he pulled her closer. All of a sudden he was wracked with the need to feel her safe and whole, and his heart had started to pound in his chest. His next words came out dark and cold.

'I'd kill him if he ever laid a finger on you.'

'Hey.' She gave a soft cluck of her tongue. 'None of that. Look at me.'

He grumbled, and she wove her hand through the hair he'd let down, and gave the blond tresses the gentlest of tugs in her direction.

'Look at me, Jon.'

When he looked, the expression on her angular face was shrewd, and kind, and loving. It was an expression that urged him to listen, to relax, and just as it always did, it managed to help him do both.

'I'm alright,' she soothed. 'I'm safe. Nothing is happening to me. Your family isn't going to hurt me. As soon as we can manage it, they won't be able to hurt you anymore, either.'

Her hand set to stroking through his hair, and once again, his eyes slammed shut. A whimper clawed free from his throat, but he felt no shame as he buried his face in her neck.

It hadn't always been like this – his family. They'd been normal to start with – happy, even, when he and Idolaf were boys. But then his ma had died with no warning, and it'd driven Olfrid insane.

Now the rest of them seemed at times hardly more than ghosts, and never more than bitter shadows of what they could've been.

'Hulda gave me my week's pay last night. It was pretty good.'

The rumble of her voice right against his ear jarred him back to the moment, and he squeezed her again before he sighed.

'That's good. Afhild gave me mine on Loredas, and 'Noriath told me to come by the Huntsmen tonight for my cut from the last hunt.'

'See?' Olfina cupped the back of his head in her soft hand, and kissed his forehead. 'Progress. That's two steps closer. We're both working hard - eventually we'll have enough to start our new life, and then things with your family will be over. We'll both be safe.'

He heard how she was trying to keep her voice light, and a familiar sliver of guilt twisted in his chest.

She was referring, of course, to the plan they'd made. Their ultimate goal – make enough money to leave Whiterun and move to Solitude, where they could start again. They'd talked about it a hundred times: they would find some tiny little house they could afford to make payments on, and in the Chapel of Divines, they'd finally get married. Olfina would start a stand of her own, selling her weaving, and he would go to the bard's college, free at last to pursue his training. They'd be free from danger, from having to hide, from his family.

But it wouldn't just be his family, and that was why the guilt gnawed on him. While Olfina's folk would never accept him, they weren't like his own, and Olfina felt like she owed them more than a note on her pillow one morning. She didn't want to abscond in the night, the way he would have to. She wanted to warn her parents and brothers – give them a proper goodbye, and leave with some share of their blessing. Even knowing that she'd never get it, because his name was Battle-Born. But he feared that if she tried, it would ruin all their plans.

It was one of the only things they ever argued about. And he didn't want to argue now. Cramming down the guilt, he rolled onto his side in the bed to pull her flush against him, and looked down at her with warm, hooded eyes.

'I appreciate you working hard, Fina. Gods know, it feels like we work too hard.' He groaned. 'I've missed you so damned much.'

'I know,' she sighed. 'I feel the same.'

'We waited too long to meet up again.' With a tiny growl, he kissed her jaw once, twice, three times in a trail. 'I thought I was going to lose it.' Another kiss, with a nip at her ear. 'Go feral, right there at the bar.'

It was nothing but the truth – the danger had them going longer between meetings, pushing their limits, and spending his free time at the Bannered Mare so he could nurse a mead and watch her work was a double-edged sword. This opportunity had fallen in their laps, and they'd barely waited a day after Avulstein left before she'd snuck him into the house. It was reckless, no doubt. But neither of them had been thinking straight. He couldn't, without her.

She giggled at his words, and then moaned at the feel of his teeth, and the sounds went straight to his cock.

'We had to wait,' she groaned, a bit breathlessly. 'You know we have to be careful. I think some of our neighbours are starting to wonder a bit...oh. That reminds me.' She suddenly sobered a bit, a tiny frown pulling at her full mouth, and she placed a spread hand over his chest.

'I have to say sorry to Anoriath, next time I see him. I snapped at him the other day.'

His brows furrowed. 'What? Why?'

'I was buying some sausage for the week, and he teased me, asking if I was cooking you breakfast. I panicked and told him to mind his own business. I think I hurt his feelings – and I definitely acted suspicious.' She sighed.

'I wish I could have you over for breakfast.'

The words and her tone both tugged on his heart-strings, and his breath caught in his throat. Godsdammit, he hated all this sneaking around! Hated what it was doing to them both. What he wouldn't give, to give his woman what she wanted. Biting off another sigh of his own, he wrapped her up in his arms and nodded.

'I know you do, love. And what you say about our neighbours, it worries me. But we should try not to worry. All we can do is be more careful. I'll...' He swallowed. 'I'll come around less at the Mare for awhile, and spend some time at the Huntsmen.' She didn't have to say a word for him to know how she felt about that, and he nodded again, with his lips in her silky hair.

'I know. I hate staying away as much as you do. But it's for the best. As for Anoriath...try not to mind him. He's said a thing or two to me lately, as well. I think he just wants to see folks happy. Fancies himself a match-maker.'

She pulled away to look at him, blinking with worry. 'You don't think he's onto us?'

'I really don't. So please, love, don't fret. I'll just keep more distance for a while...' They both winced.

'And we'll leave the future to its own. For now, it's a blessing that we have this place back. Your house is so much safer.'

Olfina nodded, but her brow crinkled a bit, and she frowned, and right away he realized how his words sounded. Idiot! Her brother had taken off with no warning or goodbye, one day ago, and here he was saying how glad he was for it. And with Thorald already missing!

'N-not that I'm saying I have no care for your brother!' he said in a rush, fumbling. 'I don't think it's a blessing that he's gone—'

'Shhhh. Jon.' Olfina was already shaking her head, biting her lip.

'Don't. I know what you mean. Don't worry. I'm happy we have our space back too. What you said just hit me, a little. I'm just worried about him.' Both of them, now, she thought darkly to herself, and gave a tiny, involuntary shiver.

He felt it, and pulled her back into his arms with a soothing, crooning sound, drawing the quilt up around her shoulders and kissing both her cheeks. She slung one leg up over his hip to nestle closer, and he grabbed her by the thigh to draw her in. The svelte, perfect slide of skin on skin had him going hard against her, but he ignored it. Seeking her eyes with his darker ones, he stroked up her side from hip to shoulder, and then rubbed her back in soothing circles.

'Tell me about it?'

It had been in rushed whispers while she served him lunch that she'd told him Avulstein was gone, and to meet her by the back door two hours after noon. There'd been no time for questions, or explanations; and once they were alone, they'd come crashing together, everything else cast aside.

Not anymore. Now she nodded, and gave a dark little frown as she nestled closer into his side.

'It was a complete shock. And so strange. When da and I came home last night, he was long gone already. Ma was the only one who knew he'd gone.'

He frowned with her, confused.

'Wha - did he say why he was leaving? And why would your ma let him go?'

Olfina sighed, and shook her head. 'That's what's so strange about it. Apparently while we were all out, a courier came by the house. He had a letter for Avulstein, from his commanding officer at the posting he left – Arrald! When ma went home after – after...' She faltered, and bit her lip. She didn't want to say the words, but he understood. Nodding, he urged her on.

'After my father made his scene. It's okay, love, go on.' The memory stung with pain and embarrassment, but he shrugged it off; he'd suffered much worse.

She pecked him on the cheek, feather light, and started up again looking even more troubled.

'When ma went home, she found Avulstein packing his things. She got it out of him about the letter, but he wouldn't let her read it – just said that Arrald needed him right away. She tried to stop him going, of course. But he wouldn't hear it. Said he couldn't let Arrald down.'

Her pale eyes flashed as he stared at her, and suddenly she shook her head again, looking angry. Her hands had balled up into the quilt.

'It makes no sense, Jon! What does the Frozen-Heart want with him? Especially now? And why would Avulstein go? Just leave us behind, without even...without...'

'Without saying goodbye?' He finished softly, and in his arms, she nodded. Tears had welled up in her eyes, and the sight of them hit him like a blow. He pulled her flush against him, with her face pressed to his chest. When he crooned a soft apology into her ear, the tears broke into muffled sobs that threatened to break his heart.

'Oh, love. I know. I know.' Slowly, he stroked her shaking back.

'I'm here.'

She didn't have to explain to him. Their bright little bubble had dimmed some, in her anguish, and he understood it perfectly. Jon didn't much consider himself a lucky man. But now, he sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Akatosh, that he could be here for his sweet girl, when she needed him. Gods knew, she'd had to be stronger than was fair.

After a minute, her wracking sobs slowed, and eased up enough for her to talk. Olfina stared at him with a red, tear stained face, and shuddered.

'I'm scared,' she cried. 'That I'll never – see him again! And angry. We – we're his family. Not the army. How could he just leave when we still don't even know where...' Then she whimpered, and started sobbing again.

Where Thorald is. Jon sighed, a weary sound, and as he pulled Olfina back into his chest and wrapped himself tightly around her, his insides rang for the umpteenth time with the hollow hatred of war.

How pointless it all was! How hideous and gnashing and empty. War was a machine that only took, and never gave. He feared that it had taken Olfina's brother – or maybe both of them, now. She was far too good and far too kind and far too young to be enduring this kind of pain. They both were – and for what? Blood couldn't water crops. And war could never truly bring peace.

'I'm so sorry, Fina.' The words sounded foolish in the face of her grief, and he felt useless and small, but he pressed on anyway.

'I know it hurts, and I'm sorry. I wish there was more I could do for you. For all of you.'

Divines knew, he was trying. It had made him sick to hear his father and brother taunting Fralia about Thorald – like they knew that he was dead. Before the war had turned them all into wolves, Idolaf had been close with the Gray-Mane brothers – closer than he ever was with him. The three of them had grown up close as kin...and now this, thanks to war and hard words. His bruises ached at the memory, and he shoved it aside on an oath.

Olfina pulled away with a ragged sigh, and shook her head at him with eyes full of sorrow.

'I know you do. And it means so much, just to have you here. I just wish...' She faltered again, gusting out a breath, and dragged both hands up over her face.

'What do you wish?' He would've granted her the moons and the stars, if he could.

'I wish someone would reassure me, and I could believe it. We've all been sitting here since Thorald went missing, like we're made of stone, just holding it together day by day. And now that Avulstein is gone, too...'

She gestured helplessly between them, and bit her lips.

'I just wish someone would tell me that they're coming back.'

'Oh, Fina.' His heart swelled in his chest, and he took both her hands into his free one, and squeezed them.

'Don't give up hope, love. Never give up hope.' He felt a wave of shame at his own cynicism, and did his best to quash it.

'I try not to. But it's hard.' She sniffled, and returned his squeeze with one of her own. Then she met his eyes directly, and caught his gaze.

'Jon, do you really think they could both come back?'

For a second, he faltered. Then he took a deep breath, and nodded.

'I like to think that anything is possible – like the life we want together. Sometimes hoping seems pointless, but it isn't. I promise you, love, it isn't. Your family all love each other – ' Again, he swallowed. ' – And that's beautiful. If the gods are really watching us all, then I think they'll see that, and lead your brothers back home. Nothing else would be fair. And after everything you've all been through, you deserve a fair break.'

And cynicism be damned – he meant every word.

Two tears spilled from Olfina's shining eyes, and her lower lip quivered as she looked at him.

'T..thank you,' she whispered throatily.

He shook his head, and had been about to say she didn't have to thank him when she abruptly closed the gap between them with a soft, seeking kiss. She was trembling, and he reached around to smooth his hands down her back as his mouth answered hers.

She tasted like honey, warm and sweet, making his head spin, and soon she was deepening the kiss. Wrapping both arms around his neck to twine her fingers in his hair, gliding her hot little tongue over his own, and his erection came roaring to life against her hip in the space of a breath. It wasn't long before she was rocking against it, causing both of them to moan. She released his hair to drag the nails of one hand down his back, and he groaned into her mouth at the little zips of pleasure.

But when she reached the other hand down and curled it deftly around him, he broke away from their messy kiss, eyes flying open, leaving them both panting.

'Fina – ' He sounded ragged and winded to his own ears, like he'd been sprinting, and looked at her with a question in his eyes.

'Jon.'

Olfina had transformed against him, melted in his arms; she still looked wounded, but gone were the tears. Her face and chest had flushed anew, and her eyes were dark and full of hunger. She squeezed the base of his cock where she'd grabbed it, tearing another gasp from him, and when she spoke again she sounded desperate.

'Please. Take me again – right now.'

Somewhere in the sudden rush of lust, a tiny part of Jon's mind shouted a warning.

'But, Fina – the time...'

'We still have time,' she urged, and this time grabbed his shoulders, trying to roll him on top of her.

'Trust me! Please, Jon. I need you.'

Everything in him swelled hot and heavy at those words – his lust, his love, the heavy cock between his legs. The very blood in his veins.

How he could deny her anything? His sweet, soft Olfina? Before he'd finished thinking it, he knew he couldn't. And didn't want to, anyway.

'Alright. Yes.'

As he rolled her neatly underneath him and planted himself on his knees and elbows, she made a sound of raw relief. She pulled him down by the neck for another fervent kiss, wrapped her legs around his waist, and he shuddered as emotion swept through him.

The world might be a cruel place, but together they'd found safe haven. If this was how she sought comfort from him, he would gladly oblige her, and consequences be damned. Right now, their lives were full of things they wanted, and couldn't have. But this? This was something he could give her.

So he bore down, sure and steady, making them cry out together – and gave.