Author's Note:
A bit of a shorter chapter today.
Thank you to everyone reading, following, favoriting, and especially reviewing so far. It's honestly so rewarding to share this story and I love to hear your thoughts!
Also a note: Part One is 20 chapters, which means that next week Part One will be coming to an end. !
Loredas, 10th of Hearthfire, 4E202
High up in his royal box in the stands, Jarl Balgruuf stood to the cheers of his people, coolly regal with his hands clasped behind his back. Deirdre stood on the announcer's platform with Aela to her right, and past Aela, a silently steaming Ulwaas.
"I present this year's winning archers to Jarl Balgruuf the Greater," boomed the voice of the announcing mage.
He let the crowd roar, motioning forth the tournament official holding a box of prizes.
"In third place, the Ribbon Girl, awarded three hundred septims and a Whiterun insignia brooch," the mage continued.
Deirdre accepted the offered coin purse with a bow for the Jarl, and glanced up to see him nod in acknowledgement. Happy pride buoyed her heart as she lowered her head and stepped back in line. She'd been sure, when the guard had dragged her off the field, that she'd be disqualified from the tournament entirely. But the Jarl had decided not to punish her impulsivity, and she let herself entertain the fantasy that she'd impressed him.
"In second place, Ulwaas Paligorn, awarded six hundred septims and an ornamental dagger."
Ulwaas also bowed to the Jarl while accepting his prizes, but his face was stony and his jaw clenched. Before he moved back in line he made the mistake of looking at Deirdre, and she gave a cheeky smile. His whole body twitched. He stepped back.
"And once again in first place, for her fifth year in a row, Aela the Huntress, the Companion, awarded twelve hundred septims and a quiver of enchanted arrows."
Aela bowed low to the Jarl and came back up with the cockiest of smirks on her face, waving at the cheering crowd before taking her coin purse and quiver. She slung the quiver of arrows onto her shoulder and stepped back to grab Deirdre by the wrist, raising her arm as if to share her triumph. The cheers grew louder.
Ulwaas looked as if he were about to combust. The second the announcing mage had signaled the end of the tournament and the Jarl had retaken his seat, he stormed off the platform without a word.
The spectators began rising from their seats and heading down the stands. Deirdre spotted Hod (with Mona), Gerdur, and Frodnar making their way down, Gerdur waving to signal they were coming to her.
"I'm going to meet Gerdur and Hod," she said to Aela.
Aela clapped her on the shoulder. "You should find us later in the marketplace. We'll probably be outside the Bannered Mare."
Deirdre agreed and bid her a temporary goodbye, leaving the platform to meet her family on the ground. Frodnar threw his arms around her the second she was within reach, exclaiming in amazement, and Gerdur followed suit with a tight hug.
"I'm so proud of you but that was so dangerous. What on Nirn were you thinking?"
"Don't listen to her, lass," Hod said. "She wanted that elf to get what was coming to him as much as anybody."
Gerdur released her. "And if the Jarl had decided to have her arrested, would you still be saying that?"
"It's fine," Deirdre said to Hod. "She's right. I think I lost my mind for a minute."
Hod reached with the arm not holding Mona to draw her into a half-hug. "Ain't no problem with that every once in a while, I say. I'm proud of you."
Proud of me, Deirdre echoed. Gerdur had just said the same. She'd made them proud. Using the bow from Hod and the ribbon from Gerdur.
It was a better day, by far, than her birthday.
The Bannered Mare was Whiterun's biggest and most popular inn, situated in an ideal location on the edge of the bustling market square. Deirdre and her family had a meal in the noisy tavern hall, surrounded by a mix of people—merchants, laborers, youths, a couple of mercenaries in one corner—while a bard stationed at the central fire pit sang and played his lute.
Gerdur arranged to rent a tiny room for a few hours where she could feed Mona in peace and set the children down for a nap. Meanwhile, Hod and Deirdre went to explore the marketplace in search of a birthday present for Camilla.
The market square in Whiterun was surrounded on all sides by shops and vendor stalls, and today it was absolutely packed with people. Deirdre decided she'd do well to get Camilla something shiny, and she and Hod worked their way through a few different jewelry vendors before finding a stall run by a little old lady, nearly as short as Deirdre, who had some affordable pieces. Deirdre settled on a gleaming brass bracelet crafted to look like twined cord.
She was depositing the bracelet into her coin purse alongside her brooch, feeling pleased with herself, when a large shape appeared beside her. She looked up to find Farkas.
"Already spending your winnings, Ribbon Girl?" he asked.
The moniker rolled off his tongue with a mixture of congratulations and teasing, removing any sting it might have possessed.
Deirdre beamed up at him. "I'm buying a present for someone."
He nodded as if this were a matter of course, then looked at the little old woman and leaned down to speak to her. "Hello, Fralia. How's business today?"
"Very good, lad," the old woman said. "But that's no surprise. My husband's work always sells well, especially on holidays."
Farkas gestured from Deirdre to the old woman. "This is Fralia Gray-Mane. Her husband is Eorlund Gray-Mane."
Fralia straightened proudly, and Deirdre realized she was supposed to know what the name meant. She glanced at Hod, who stepped in.
"I didn't know the best smith in all of Skyrim made jewelry too," he said. "I thought he only forged weapons for the Companions, in the Skyforge."
"Of course, that is his main craft," Fralia said. "Best steel in Tamriel! Keeps those kids protected."
Farkas added, "Most of our weapons are from the Skyforge, but once in a while some of us still use lighter elven-made stuff."
Fralia lifted a finger to wag at him. "That's no good. That elven junk isn't reliable."
Farkas hummed, acquiescent. "You're right, Fralia."
Deirdre realized Hod and Farkas hadn't been introduced. "By the way, Hod, this is Farkas—He's a Companion too."
Hod inclined his head. "Thought you looked familiar. You look just like the other one."
"Yup. He's my brother."
Hod ruffled Deirdre's hair, earning an indignant squawk as she tried to smooth it back down. "Did you happen to hear about your brother saving this one from the woods?"
Farkas's smile was knowing. "We all heard about that."
Hod laughed and Deirdre's shoulders rose toward her ears. She was distracted by a swell of noise rising up beyond Farkas, toward the middle of the square, and she leaned around him to see what was going on. Farkas followed her gaze.
"Music, is it?" Fralia commented. "They must be starting up a dance."
Deirdre lit up. "A dance?"
She whirled to Hod. He understood right away. "Let me take your coin purse back to Gerdur so you don't get pickpocketed," he said.
She handed over the purse immediately, bobbing into a hasty curtsy of thanks. She spun to Farkas.
"Farkas, do you dance?"
"I'm not very good at it …"
"I've never done it before!" she gushed, entreating with her eyes.
Farkas looked her over and held out a hand. "Guess I oughtta show you how then."
She took his hand without hesitation and pulled him toward the growing crowd in the center of the square, throwing a parting wave to Hod over her shoulder.
True to her word, Aela was nearby with the Companions who'd been at the tournament—Ria, Athis, Njada, and Vilkas. Deirdre spotted them and had Farkas wave over the crowd to get their attention.
Aela assessed the mass of people before them, with several groups of four already stepping together in time to the music, still more groups forming and joining in, and grabbed Athis by the arm. He threw a beseeching look at Njada and Ria, who waved cheerfully as Aela dragged him over to Deirdre and Farkas.
Farkas wasn't the most elegant dancer, but the routine wasn't very elegant to begin with, and Deirdre barely bumbled so long as she kept hold of his hands and followed his lead. The height difference and inexperience made them a bit of an awkward pair, but Farkas didn't seem to care. When the first song rounded to a close, they joined in the applause that met it.
A new dance was called, and the dancers reorganized into larger groups. Farkas led Deirdre again, and she repeated the first fumblings of learning something new, until a certain point in the dance had the women perform a little hop. Only, because Farkas was her partner, she didn't just hop; he lifted her several inches off the ground. She was so surprised she laughed. The second time the hop came around, Farkas lifted her even higher, so that she felt a swoop in her stomach. A few spectators raised voices in approval. By the third impressive leap, there were cheers.
The stunt earned them plenty of attention. Almost as soon as the dance was over, Deirdre and Farkas were surrounded by women.
"Companion, would you dance with me next?"
"And me!"
"I want to dance with the Companion!"
Farkas, caught off guard, looked to Deirdre for guidance. Aela swept in and linked her arm with Deirdre's.
"Don't worry, I've got her," she said, drawing Deirdre away into the next dance. But that only solved half of Farkas's problem. He held up his hands helplessly before the clamors of the more determined ladies.
"Poor Farkas," Deirdre remarked.
"That's what he gets for being approachable," Aela replied. She pointed toward Vilkas, looking bored with his arms crossed, while Ria and Njada chatted beside him. "If he had that sour mug, they'd leave him alone."
They kept an eye out for Farkas as Aela showed her some new steps, and it seemed that every time Deirdre looked away and back again, a different partner had cut in to claim his attention. Aela thought it was hilarious, and Deirdre was torn between mirth and feeling sorry for him.
When that dance came to a close and Farkas still had multiple partners vying for his hand, Deirdre decided she'd better try to rescue him. She patted Aela's arm to leave her, and was halfway to Farkas when she felt a slight touch on her shoulder.
"Excuse me, Miss?"
A young man had approached her, quickly withdrawing his hand now that she'd paused. The color of his hair was nothing short of striking—bright reddish orange, gold where the sun hit it. He was taller than her, but only by half a foot.
He blinked when she met his eyes, surprised to actually have her attention. She watched a visible wave of pink fan out beneath his freckles. His eyes were light brown, practically amber, fringed by curly lashes that stood out against his cheekbones when he looked at the ground.
"Excuse me," he repeated. "But you—you were at the archery tournament, weren't you?"
"Yes, I was."
He nodded, lifting his eyes. "You were the Ribbon Archer?"
Well. That sounded even better than Ribbon Girl.
Deirdre smiled. "That's me."
He nodded again, face still flushed, but his returning smile was so earnest—wide, and white, and warm, dimpling his cheeks—Deirdre felt a swoop in her stomach that had nothing to do with being lifted in the air.
"I thought that was you," he said, friendly now. "You were incredible. If that wind hadn't picked up, you would've given the Huntress a run for her money."
The day wasn't hot, but Deirdre's face grew warm. Her blush was probably as visible as his.
"I don't know about that," she replied.
The young man shook his head. "You were song-worthy."
She had to look away. "Thank you."
They stood in silence for a moment, Deirdre realizing another song had started and another dance begun.
"My name is Leif," the young man said. He held out a tentative hand. "Would you—Could I lead you in this dance, Miss?"
Another stomach swoop. She met his eyes, and they seemed open and hopeful in a way she'd never seen before. He was looking at her like there was nothing else, amongst all the sights and sounds in that bustling square, that could possibly interest him.
Farkas was forgotten. She gave Leif her hand and received another dazzling smile.