AN: My work schedule is kind of weird and I'm trying to work it out with my school, so my updates will be really inconsistent. Some days I'll have more time to play, which means more ideas to write. Other days I will have to power through a 24-30 hour work period and I'll be asleep for most of the next day. On a rare occasion I'll be travelling to a place with limited signal so I'll be cut off for a couple weeks. I'll try to stay writing on the notes section on my phone.

I'm trying to put a more realistic spin to the story because if I was Lydia, I would hate it if someone gave me all their shit to carry for days on end.

Enjoy!

Frostbite

"So.. High Hrothgar huh?"

...

"We can spend a day in Ivarstead to re-supply before we ascend up the mountain."

…

"I haven't been there myself, but I've heard the climb is pretty grueling."

…

Lydia is starting to get frustrated. Each one of her remarks is met by awkward silence, the crunch of their footsteps, and the rustling of the foliage in the plains. She is already carrying most of the load for their trek, and the unresponsive Dragonborn is pushing her to her limits.

They spent their first few days as companions separated, each one left to their own devices to supply themselves before they set off on their journey. Both of them having minimal interaction with each other during that time. When they met at the gates, the Dragonborn takes a large roll of cured leather and animal fur as well as their rations for the trip, and stuffs them into Lydia's pack. Leaving him with only a smaller bag and the bow he keeps slung over his shoulders, very much to her discontent. All she could manage is a stoic look and an audible huff as she shoulders her pack.

As they approach a fork in the road, the Dragonborn leads them to the less developed, less traveled path. Still confused at the vague itinerary, Lydia waves the thought from her mind as they trudge on.

"Where are you from?" Lydia continues.

…

The Dragonborn, still occasionally glancing at his map and looking up to get a view of their surroundings.

'Okay. He's either ignoring me, or he has the attention span of a skeever. I'm just trying to make this trip more bearable! This guy is really starting to get on my nerves.'

"So what do you keep in this little brown bag?" Lydia says as she fumbles with the item.

"If you don't feel like shitting your brains out for the next couple days, I wouldn't open it." Said the Dragonborn finally breaking his silence.

'So he's been ignoring me. Noted.'

Lydia realizes, the entire time she had been following him, they have been going the opposite direction from where she thought they were going to travel. The air gets noticeably colder. It's not like he'd been inclined to share any sort of information with her in the first place.

Much later in the day, after many rest stops, the sun begins to set. Instead of going around the northern base of the great mountain, they set off for the arguably more dangerous southern side. Where the temperature drops considerably, but is the shortest route towards the town at the base of the 7,000 steps. Lydia's blood runs cold as she wonders if they will find some sort of shelter for the night. Her fatigue starting to wear her down, and her feet becoming too numb to feel the newly formed blisters. She searches for an opportunity for them to stop and set up camp for the night.

The duo eventually comes across an inlet along the mountain base with enough coverage to protect them in the case of heavy snowfall. The Dragonborn drops his gear and with a sigh of relief, Lydia sets hers next to his.

The pair begin to set up their camp, prioritising the fire and allotting themselves their own sleeping spaces. Each placing their bedrolls a good distance away from each other. With how cold it's getting, Lydia doesn't know if an animal fur-lined sack is going to be enough to protect them from the elements.

Lydia proceeds to boil water to re-hydrate their cured meat and makes a tasteless stew for their dinner. She stirs the contents of the small pot, wishing she had more ingredients and spices to work with as she recalls a time when she had a larger arsenal at her disposal. Cooking is one of her many skills that she acquired during her time spent training in the palace kitchen. She's actually pretty decent at it too. But with limited supply and storage space, they would have to make do with what they have for the night. She also isn't thrilled at the idea of her troublesome companion having a proper meal to eat after what he's put her through for the last few days they have been together.

Some time passes, and after finishing their respective meals, they prepare their sleeping arrangements. The Dragonborn walks over to the packs and removes the roll he stuffed in Lydia's bag earlier that day. He walks over to his spot and Lydia's jaw drops as he begins setting up a single tent.

'You have got to be shitting me..'

Lydia watches him, still in shock. Had she known what they were going to encounter, she might have packed more accordingly. If they had travelled the original route she imagined, they wouldn't have a need for a tent. Instead she packed only what she thought she needed and left a little space in the case that they would have to carry more gear.

Before the Dragonborn enters his temporary abode, he looks over to Lydia one last time.

"Yea.. There's really only space for one person in here. Someone's gotta watch the fire anyways." The Dragonborn says. He disappears into the tent.

Lydia is in a state of utter disbelief.

Not only did he not share any sort of travel plan with her, but he intentionally ignored her, turned her into a pack mule, and basically told her that she could afford to lose a few fingers and toes to the cold. All without showing a single smidge of gratitude for anything she does for him as she bottles her contempt for the man.

She's furious. She felt like slitting his throat and claiming that he died in a horrible accident as she hid the body. She wished for violence.

Some time passes, and after letting her anger subside, with somewhat collected thinking she decided she needs to put her foot down. She may be his subordinate, but she's also a self-respecting human being. And she is not going to let him take advantage of her any longer. She gathers her bedroll and storms over to the tent.

She rips open the flaps and takes a glimpse inside. The Dragonborn sits up startled. It may be a tight fit but there was definitely enough room for another to squeeze into the tent. This only made her angrier.

"What the, what are y-"

"I am not going to freeze to death out there! You've disrespected me long enough and I've had it!" Lydia screams.

The Dragonborn with wide eyes, is at a loss for words. Looking almost frightened at her outrage.

"I don't care if you ARE the Dragonborn, you can't treat me like this! I've had to put up with your bullshit this entire time and I haven't heard so much as a thank you! We've already known each other for five days and I don't even think you know my name!" Lydia's voice cutting through the air despite the howling wind. "You can whine all you want, but I am staying in this tent tonight. I'm leaving to go back to Whiterun first thing in the morning."

Lydia places her bedroll next to his and forcefully lays down, facing away from him. The Dragonborn still sitting upright in his.

Overcome by a wave of tiredness, Lydia drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

When Lydia awakes in the morning, she looks around the tent and sees no sign of her companion.

Looks like I scared him off. It's probably for the best that I never see him again.

As Lydia listens closer, she hears a pitter patter outside followed by a few hisses. She crawls forward and carefully peeks outside the tent and sees a massive frostbite spider standing atop where they set up their fire the night before.

Suddenly, another one drops from the ceiling in front of the entrance to the tent from where she was peeking, sending her reeling back. She kicks the spider above it's disgusting mouth and as it moves back to recover, she bursts out of the tent in a roll.

She looks around to see the spiders blocking her path to her equipment. She picks up a rock and begins to slowly shuffle, observing the spiders' movements to look for an opening.

The spider closest to the tent lunges first. She dives in the direction toward the tent. She rips the tent from the ground, and as the second spider lunges at her, she throws the tent over it and then bashes the blanketed spider with her rock. She makes a dash toward her sword.

As she draws it from it's sheathe, the first spider had already caught up to her and managed to scratch her arm with one of it's venomous mandibles and a searing pain engulfs her arm. As it raises its two front legs to strike her, she quickly hacks them off. The spider stumbles forward and Lydia stabs it in it's head effectively killing it.

The spider that was covered by the tent managed to remove it and was now cautiously approaching Lydia. She drops to a knee as her vision begins to blur, but still manages to grip her sword with a little more effort. She looks down her arm, she sees a throbbing web of black and purple blood vessels surround the laceration. Her body begins to feel the effects of the venom as it begins circulating, feeling her extremities turn numb. She looks back at the spider as it closes in.

Her muscles begin to tighten, her joints begin to lock up, and as she waits for the final charge, an arrow strikes the spider's backside, leaving it hissing in pain. As it turns around to face it's aggressor, a second arrow pierces it in the mouth and drives through the top of it's head. The spider then slumps down.

Lydia's vision begins to fade and she collapses on her side. Before slipping into unconsciousness, she sees a dark figure running towards her. The black consumes her.

Lydia fades in and out, powerless to stop the pain coursing through her body as she sweats profusely and groans in agony. She had been propped up against the stone wall.

At some point, her rescuer prompts her to drink a bitter liquid. She coughs up the first gulp due to her tightened throat muscles and dry mouth. She forces the rest of the tonic down and after some time, relaxes into a torpid state as the discomfort eases.

When Lydia woke up a second time that day, nightfall had already come. The weather in more favorable conditions compared to the night before. Still laying on her side, she realizes she is in her bedroll and stripped of her armor, wearing only the tunic and trousers she had underneath. She sits up, and looks at her bandaged arm and notices a figure sitting by the campfire, stoking it.

The Dragonborn turns back to look at her.

"Hey, you're finally awake." Said the Dragonborn as he grinds up a salve in a stone mortar.

Lydia looks over to her gear where she left it and sees that the Dragonborn's was in the same place as well.

She felt a great deal of gratitude and relief that he hadn't truly left her. She surely would have died if he had not come when he did.

"Water.." Lydia said in a scratchy voice. Still finding it hard to speak.

The Dragonborn puts down his mortar and walks over to the packs. He then walks back to Lydia and hands her a waterskin, taking a seated position in front of her.

Despite not wearing any sort of head protection, this is the first time she noticed his features. Only slightly larger than her in form, definitely taller. More muscular but not heavyset, staying on the slimmer side. He had short, light brown hair and dark eyes with a softer face despite the scar that ran along his cheekbone, downward. With a clean shave, he looked nothing like what the legends described the Dragonborn to be. There was nothing spectacular about him by any means, but he wasn't a terrible sight to look at either.

"Thanks." Lydia says as she hands back the container. The Dragonborn urges it back to her and she tucks it away in her sleeping sack.

"I was out scavenging for herbs and possibly our next meal. It's a good thing I came back when I did. You were in serious trouble." The Dragonborn says completely uncharacteristic from his indifferent tone. "I'm sorry. For everything. I would still like to travel with you, if that's ok?"

For Lydia this is all too bizarre. This is more than he's ever said to her in the past couple of days. And it isn't a request or a demand.

'What realm did I wake up in?'

"I want to start over." The Dragonborn says.

"Hi Lydia, my name is Varick."