Chapter 2

The first thing that crossed Sara's mind when she woke up the next morning was that her bed was hard. That thoroughly confused her, and she tried to move so that she was more comfortable. But there was something very solid snoring rather loudly behind her, and with a small jolt of realization, Sara's eyes snapped open and she was greeted by the burnt remains of the fire from last night.

It was almost dawn, and Rogan was still fast asleep with his arm slung across Sara's waist. The weight of his arm was somewhat heavy but also a comforting feeling. After the fear and panic she had experienced the night before, and despite how coldly Rogan treated her, she was glad he was there. Things could have been worse.

Sara reached up to rub her cheek and yawned quietly as she patiently waited for Rogan to stir. Eventually, he started to move and he let out a small growl as he rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. He yawned and rubbed his eyes for a moment, and when he was more conscious, he turned his gaze back towards Sara and stared at the back of her head for a brief second. Now that he could see her better in the light, Rogan noticed the bits of leaves and other forest debris that was stuck in her wavy brown hair. Resisting the urge to pluck a leaf from her hair, he quickly slipped out from the bedroll and stood up.

Sara rolled onto her back and stretched her arms above her head with another yawn, watching as Rogan also stretched. He rolled his shoulders for a few moments until they cracked. Then he shoved his boots on and took off at a brisk stroll away from his camp. While he was gone, Sara got up as well and neatly packed the bedroll up, securing the material with the leather straps that she had seen Rogan use the night before.

When Rogan returned, he glanced down at Sara, who was sitting on the ground rubbing her cheek. He noticed that she had packed his bedroll but he said nothing and began silently preparing to leave.

Sara watched Rogan as slipped his leather gloves on and buckled the belt holding his sword around his waist. His physical appearance still took her breath away and she couldn't help but stare, which annoyed him. After a few minutes, Rogan turned his head towards her with narrowed eyes.

"Why do you stare so much?"

"I'm sorry," Sara stammered, and she nervously rubbed her neck. "I've never... well, I've never seen an Orc in person before."

"Seriously?" Rogan growled, and he slung his satchel over one satchel. "Did you live in a cave?"

His tone was not humorous and Sara avoided looking directly at him as he spoke. After a moment of awkward silence, Rogan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he silently cursed his luck for being in the wrong place in the wrong time.

"Listen, there's an Inn a few hours from here. It was packed last night so I didn't stay."

"Okay..."

Sara peered up at Rogan with a confused expression.

"Riften is almost five days from here. You'll have better luck at the Inn."

"Wait- what? Can't I just... come with you?"

"No," Rogan replied briskly, and he turned his back to her. "I have somewhere to be."

Before Sara could respond, Rogan began walking away from her without another word. Not once did he pause to even look back at the girl, who was standing with her eyes glued to his back and her mouth hung open in shock. Her sleeve was caked with dry blood from the cut on her arm and she wore no shoes. Small sticks and other debris pricked at the bottom of her bare feet but it was nowhere near the stung that Rogan's words had left on her.

No. Sara's mind echoed over and over. No help. No one to protect you if there's a predator. No idea what to do.

A part of Rogan felt bad that he had left Sara on her own, but he wasn't in the business of helping random women who ran into him in the middle of the woods. He had important places to be, and his generosity only went so far. However, the further he walked the guiltier he felt, but he tried to push it away and continue on his course.

It was a clear, bright day in the Rift. The sun had just risen over the mountains and its bright rays warmed his back while Rogan expertly picked his way through an unbeaten path towards Riften. A long sword hung down from a belt secured around his waist and a large satchel was slung over both of his broad shoulders which contained various belongings.

Rogan was nearing twenty-nine summers but he appeared to be an Orc in his early twenties with a face free of any facial hair. His deep green skin was dappled with various scars, all of which had a tale to go along with, but you'd be hard pressed to get the story from him. His tusks were long and a sparkling white. He took pride in his race and polished his tusks on a regular basis, which were fortunately free of any cracks. He preferred to be alone, and for the most part, Rogan's job permitted him to go about without being bothered. Once in a while, he was forced to work with a partner or in a small group, and he only tolerated it for as long as was necessary. But the longer he walked, the guiltier he felt for leaving the strange girl behind.

Sara turned towards the direction she thought Rogan had pointed out for her. However, she wasn't entirely confident that it was the right direction and as she slowly started walking forward the more unsure she felt, and a wave of anxiety rose up inside of her.

No map, no idea if I'm going the right way, Sara's thoughts grumbled.

She winced as a stick roughly poked her toe before slowly continuing forward.

This is beyond stupid. What a mean Orc, I know he doesn't owe me anything but he could have at least helped me get to Riften or something...

Riften. Even saying it in her head, Sara felt strange. She wouldn't believe it to be true until she saw the little town with her own two eyes, which Nara knew might never happen if she didn't make it out of the woods in one piece.

A sharp pain suddenly shot up Sara's right leg and she gasped as her knee instinctively crumpled. She fumbled and tried to take a step forward but pain radiated through the bottom of her foot and so she quickly sat down to inspect it. Some sort of dried prickly plant was embedded in her foot and Sara sucked in a deep breath as she prepared to pull it out. After using a few choice words, she pulled the plant from her foot and a small drop of blood trickled down from a couple of cuts in her skin. She let out a deep sigh and lowered her foot to the ground, staring out at nothing as she struggled to figure out what to do.

"You hurt yourself again."

Sara nearly leaped out of her skin at the sound of his voice and then she sighed and peered up at Rogan's face. He looked unimpressed but it didn't matter, she was relieved to see him anyways. She watched as Rogan shuffled forward and knelt in front of her. Sara's brows furrowed together in confusion as he reached forward and grasped her foot to inspect it.

"Why did you come back?"

"I might be an ass, but I'm not heartless," Rogan replied simply as if it had been his intention all along to come back, and he slipped his satchel off his shoulders so he could retrieve supplies.

"Sure doesn't seem like it," Sara mumbled more to herself, and she quickly clamped her mouth shut when she realized what she had said.

Rogan ignored her comment and fished around in his satchel for a waterskin and bandages. Like the previous night, he tended to the minuscule cuts on her foot and wrapped it with a bit of cloth before handing her the health potion.

"Just a sip," he grunted.

"Yes sir," Sara whispered as she brought the vial to her lips.

Rogan rolled his eyes and returned his supplies to the satchel when he was finished. Then he stood up and stared down at her for a moment. Sara peered up at him, her neck craned back almost painfully, and did not move to get up.

"What are waiting for? A written invitation? Stand up."

"Why are you helping me?" Sara argued as she scrambled to her feet. "You have no obligations-"

"I know!" Rogan barked back with a scowl. "Are you going to keep annoying me with questions or are you going to come with me to Riften? It's your choice."

"If you're going to make me feel like shit every minute we're together then I'd rather not."

The air between them was tense and nobody spoke for a long moment. Sara's arms were crossed but her expression was one of barely contained amusement. She found it highly entertaining at how easy it was to ruffle Rogan's feathers. Finally, Rogan let out a small growl and he lifted his satchel with one hand.

"Can you carry this?"

"Of course," Sara replied briskly, and she snatched the straps from his hand.

Rogan almost laughed as he watched Sara struggle to stay upright with his pack. Her skinny arms shook from the effort and it was almost impossible to lift. Only after several painful moments spent watching her attempt to sling the satchel over her back did he eventually intervened and helped to put it on. When it was secured on her back Sara was out of breath and her cheeks were flushed pink from the effort.

"Holy shit, how do you carry this?"

"It's nothing for an Orc like me," Rogan replied smugly, and then he turned around. "Get on my back."

"W-what?"

"You cannot walk without shoes. You're too delicate and I don't want to keep patching you up."

"But your... your pack... and me-"

"By Malacath!" Rogan almost roared. "I don't have all day!"

"Okay, okay," Sara mumbled and she stepped closer.

Rogan crouched so Sara could wrap her arms around his thick neck and she felt him reach back and grasp her thighs. Once she was hoisted piggy-back style with her legs firmly clenched around his waist, he began to make his way back in the direction he had come from, feeling annoyed that he had wasted so much daylight arguing with the girl.

The way he carried Sara so effortlessly was impressive. He walked like he was barely aware of her on his back. For a while, she just looked out at the beautiful landscape of the Rift, utterly stunned by how beautiful it was in person.

The game doesn't do this place justice, Sara thought with a wistful smile as a light breeze brushed against her skin. The air is so... clean, the trees so vibrant. I'm in awe.

Eventually, Sara's back started to ache from the weight of Rogan's satchel, but she ignored it. The last thing she needed was to hear his snide comments about how frail and weak she was. As the day went on, and Rogan silently plodded through the Rift towards their destination, eventually Sara lowered her chin onto his broad shoulder with a small sigh and closed her eyes.

However, just as she was about to nod off, Rogan suddenly stopped walking and purged her from his back without much warning. Sara stumbled backward and, because of the heavy weight of the satchel on her back, she was unable to stay upright so she toppled backward.

Rogan's laughter echoed all around the woods, bouncing off the trunks of the trees as the sound pierced Sara's ears. She stared up at the clear blue sky with a furious expression as he laughed, feeling like a turtle flipped on its back. Her legs were numb from being wrapped around Rogan's waist for several hours and they throbbed as she weakly slipped her arms out from the straps of his satchel and rolled onto the ground.

"Ow..."

"That was one of the funniest things I've ever seen," Rogan gasped, and he leaned against his knees with both hands while he continued to laugh for several moments.

Sara glared at him as she brushed a strand of her hair back with a loud huff.

"Glad you found that entertaining. You could have warned me, first."

"I'm glad I didn't," Rogan retorted, and after a few more moments he was able to calm down and retrieve a waterskin from his pack.

"You're terrible," Sara lamented, but she accepted the strips of jerky Rogan offered her.

Rogan shrugged his shoulders in response and plopped down on his butt with a small growl.

"I don't care what you think of me."

"Oh, I know you don't," Sara grumbled. "But I'm telling you anyways."

Rogan was silent for a few minutes while they ate. A light breeze played with the stray strands of his long brown hair that had escaped the braid. After a couple of minutes passed in slightly awkward silence, he couldn't help but say what was on his mind.

"You're so strange to me," Rogan mused, and he fixed his red gaze on Sara's face.

"Gee, thanks."

"What? Can you blame me? Your attire, your lack of shoes or belongings... you don't even look like any person I've seen in Skyrim..."

"Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?" Sara shot back, and she immediately regretted it.

Rogan's expression grew dark at the mention of his mother, and when he spoke next his voice was full of anger.

"You don't fucking know me," Rogan snarled.

"You don't know me either," Sara argued, and she frowned. "Why is it okay for you to speak harshly about me but not the other way around?"

"Shut up," Rogan sighed, and he turned his head away from her.

Sara couldn't help but feel a bit surprised. It was true that they didn't know one another, but right now Rogan was acting like a proper child and she hadn't tagged him for being a hypocrite.

It doesn't matter if he's helping me get somewhere safe, it doesn't give him a right to treat me like garbage and I won't let him get away with it.

Thinking about the next five days or so they'd have to be together, Sara couldn't help but feel anxious about how things would play out. Rogan sat in silent anger across from her and when he was finished eating, he silently helped place his satchel back on her shoulders and silently hoisted her up without a single word.

For the remainder of the afternoon, Rogan walked in silence with Holly primarily snoozing on his back. Despite the tension between them, Sara found herself comforted by his presence. Only once did they encounter a predator, and it was nothing more than a boring regular wolf. It had been an easy task for Rogan to dispatch and he hardly even broke a sweat as he ran the beast through with his sword.

Sara knew that Rogan was capable of magic. It had greatly piqued her interest when she witnessed him start the fire with a small spell. However, there was no real conversation to be had between them, and Nara wasn't in the mood to trade insults. So, she kept her questions to herself although they burned on the tip of her tongue.