Chapter 7

Sara was utterly confused as a searing pain suddenly blossomed in the side of her head. Before she could process what was going on, she was dragged by her ponytail through the rotten gap in the tree trunk and thrown onto the ground.

"You think you're smart," a male voice laughed, and he continued dragging Sara by her hair across the forest floor.

Pain blinded Sara's vision and she could feel something wet sliding down the side of her face and into her eyes which began to sting as she struggled to gain a hold on the situation.

"Hiding from me, when I could smell the beast blood on you a mile away. Stupid girl."

Sara could tell by the claws that dug into her scalp that her assailant was Argonian. She almost forgot the sword that was still clutched in her right hand until it was almost too late. But it clanged loudly against a nearby rock and so she quickly swung her arm, not caring where it went or what it hit.

There was a distinct slicing noise as her sword met its mark, and Sara was abruptly let go. Her head hit the ground and she groaned, clutching the side of her face as the bandit shrieked in pain.

"You fucking bitch!" He wailed. "My tail!"

Sara hastily wiped at her eyes, trying to clear the blood but before she could even start to stand up the Argonian knocked her on her back and pinned her beneath his body. He twisted her wrist so painfully she thought he broke it as a sharp, piercing pain shot up her arm and she was forced to let go of her sword. Sara opened her mouth to scream when she was cut off with a slap to the face so strong it took her breath away and left her dazed.

"You're going to pay for this," the Argonian snarled, and he wrapped his clawed hands around her neck. "I will make you suffer for what you've done!"

Sara could barely make out the features of his face as she peered up at him through a curtain of blood and tears. She reached up as far as she could, thrashing her legs and arms around as she tried to get a hold of his face while fighting to breathe. But he was a tall reptile, and he easily leaned away from her grip and tightened his grip around her neck.

Pain overwhelmed every inch of her body as Sara gasped and coughed. It felt like she was drowning, a feeling she was all too familiar with. Every fiber of her being screamed out in alarm as her flight instinct kicked in, but she was overpowered by the sheer strength of her enemy alone and the longer he choked her, the more she lost control of her limbs.

Sara stared up at the sky, which she could barely discern as she weakly grabbed handfuls of dirt and tried to summon the courage to throw them. But it was too late. She felt her conscience starting to slip as stars erupted in her vision and everything became a clouded mess.

This is it, her thoughts whispered softly as a peaceful feeling began to wash over her. It's over. Just let go...

Almost a moment too late, Rogan roared as he stumbled down the bank and ran straight towards the Argonian, blinded by rage. He smashed into the bandit's shoulder first, which sent him flying, and without hesitating for a single moment Rogan snarled and plunged his sword through his chest, nearly ripping him in two as he sliced upwards, instantly killing him.

The forest was dead silent and Rogan thought Sara was dead as he stumbled forward. Then Sara rolled onto her stomach as she gasped and spluttered on the air that had abruptly rushed into her lungs. She clawed weakly at her throat which felt like it was on fire and tried to push herself up by her elbows but it was no use.

She would have screamed in fright if her throat hadn't been crushed just moments before as Sara suddenly felt hands on her body. She cried out, her voice little more than a hoarse gasp and tried to move away before she realized who it was.

"It's me, Sara! It's me... Rogan... it's just me," Rogan growled thickly and he pulled Sara up into his arms. "You're safe. I promise."

Sara clutched at Rogan's leather waist as she started to cry. But crying only hurt, and bile rose up in her throat. She weakly pushed away from him and doubled over as she threw up. It felt like sandpaper was moving through her and the feeling only made her feel sicker. She puked until there was nothing left in her stomach and then she weakly sat back on her calves and let out a shaky breath.

"Sara... what happened?"

"Rogan..." Sara whispered quietly. "I don't feel so good."

"I know, it's not important," Rogan replied hastily. "They're all dead."

He knew he needed to get Sara to a healer, and fast. Just looking at her, Rogan could tell that she was injured beyond what he could fix with his mediocre healing skills. Sara nodded, her face caked with dirt and her own blood, and she slumped against Rogan's chest as she passed out. Rogan wasted no time as he swept her unconscious body into his arms and swiftly made his way back up the bank towards where he knew there'd be an Inn, and he prayed to any God that was listening that there would someone there that could help.

Andewen had only been sitting at her table for a few fleeting minutes and taken two small sips from her glass of red wine when the door to the Tavern was suddenly thrown open. The noise startled the Elf as she was about to take the third sip. She hastily placed the glass down on the table before she spilled it and spun around to see what was the source of all the commotion. Her golden eyes widened in surprise as she spotted a familiar Orc rushing through the dining hall with an unconscious woman in his arms. They were both covered in blood and he shouted angrily at the barkeep for a healer.

"I'm here," Andewen called out as she shook herself from her stupor and stood up. "Rogan, I'm here. Get her into a room, I'll grab my pack."

Rogan shot her the briefest of glances and nodded before rushing down the hall to the nearest unoccupied room. Andewen smiled apologetically to the owner, who simply rolled his eyes and muttered something under her breath about damned vampire hunters always bursting into his Inn. But Andewen wasn't listening as she swiftly returned to her own room and snatched up her pack, which was filled with essential potions and supplies she used for healing. Before Rogan had even finished laying the girl on the bed, who had started to wake up, Andewen appeared and she quickly stepped forward to take over.

"I got it," she murmured softly to Rogan, and she placed a slender hand on his shoulder. "She's in good hands."

Rogan appeared more shaken than Andewen had seen him in years, and he looked at her for one long moment before he let out the breath he had been holding in and stepped back.

"I need a drink," he growled, and Andewen smiled softly as she watched him stumble back towards the door before turning her attention to the injured girl.

She was filled with a burning curiosity as she quickly inspected her injuries. They weren't extensive, but they were bad enough that she understood why Rogan couldn't have patched her up himself.

"Hello dear. What is your name?" Andewen asked sweetly as she walked over to retrieve a basin and pitcher of water.

"Um, Sara..."

Sara coughed and grimaced as pain radiated in her throat.

"Sara, I'm Andewen. I'll take good care of you."

"Thank," Sara started, and then she paused to take a big gulp of air. "Thank you."

"I can see you have an injury to your face and neck. Is there anything else that's more serious?"

Sara weakly shook her head, and she jumped when she felt a warm cloth on her face.

"My... wrist is sore..."

"You can hardly see, poor thing."

"I-I think it's all... all my blood."

"Yes, I can see that. It's alright... there we go," Andewen murmured as she cleared the blood and debris from Sara's eyes. "Can you look up at me for a moment?"

Sara blinked and squinted her eyes for a moment as the bright light of the candles blinded her vision momentarily. Her head ached something fierce but she forced herself to look at Andewen, noticing for the first time that she was a very pretty Altmer.

"That's a good girl. I don't see any scratches in your eyes, just some nicks around your lids and on your cheeks."

When Andewen was satisfied that her vision wasn't compromised, which was her biggest worry, the healer focused on making Sara feeling better next. It was obvious that she had been through something horrific, and so she lightly placed her hands on her shoulders and summoned a calming spell, which she let wash over Sara completely until she was sure it had worked enough.

"How does that feel?"

"Mm," Sara mumbled, and she let out a deep breath. "Much... better."

"Excellent."

Next, Andewen focused on the nasty gashes on the side of Sara's head. She cleaned them thoroughly and cast a strong healing spell, pleased with herself as she watched the skin start to stitch itself back together.

"There might be some light scarring, but it shouldn't be noticeable," she explained to Sara while she worked. "Also, there's some hair missing in a couple of places but again, it's hardly noticeable. Your wrist isn't broken, just sprained."

"It doesn't matter anyway," Sara mumbled quietly with her eyes closed. "It's not like I need to impress anyone."

Andewen chuckled, and she brushed her fingertips along Sara's soft cheek with a smile.

"You're very pretty, Sara. With or without scars. I have to wonder how my dear friend Rogan ended up with a girl like you."

"Ended up?" Sara blurted back, and she opened her eyes. "Rogan is just helping me get to Riften. That's it."

"Oh, I see."

Andewen wasn't totally convinced, but she kept her thoughts to herself as she finished patching up her scalp. When she was finished, she asked if it was alright for her to take Sara's clothes off.

"I just want to make sure there's nothing internal going on I might have missed."

"Um yeah sure," Sara replied quietly, and she lifted her arms when Andewen gently tugged her tunic up.

Another ruined tunic, Sara thought bitterly.

When Sara had been stripped off all her clothes and boots, she stood shivering lightly as the cool air tickled her skin. Andewen was swift since she knew it was an uncomfortable part of healing. Her hands lightly roamed over Sara's back, her shoulders and thighs, and then her chest.

"Hmm," she murmured with a small frown. "I think you have a cracked rib or two."

"Not surprising," Sara replied with a frown. "I had an Argonian sitting on top of me trying to choke me to death."

As soon as Sara said it, the reality of what had happened hit her in the gut and Sara gasped in surprise as tears slipped down her cheeks. Andewen looked up and her brows furrowed together as she watched her struggle to stay composed.

"It's going to be alright, really. It's okay to cry," she whispered softly. "I know it's scary, running into people like that."

"I-If Rogan... if he hadn't... I would have..."

It was all too much. Sara buried her head in her hands and started to sob. The motion of crying was painful because of her ribs but she couldn't help herself. Andewen watched her with a sympathetic expression and rubbed her back with gentle, circular motions while she cast another calming spell. After a few minutes, Sara lifted her head back up and she sniffled quietly as she waited for Andewen to finish her inspections.

"I think that's it," Andewen smiled, and she gently guided Sara back to the bed. "I'll cast a very strong healing spell, which will take care of your cracked ribs. Just take it easy for a few days to be sure."

A pleasant warmth washed over Sara's skin that lingered for the rest of the night. She let out a loud sigh of relief and Andewen smiled as she uncorked a small red vial and handed it to her.

"Drink up. I'll go hunt down some clothes and get someone to draw you up a bath, okay?"

"Okay," Sara mumbled as she wiped at her lips and handed the empty vial back. "Where's Rogan?"

"He's probably on his third ale somewhere in the dining hall. Don't worry, he's close by."

"I'm not worried," Sara whispered quietly, but her brows furrowed together. She didn't sound very convincing.

Andewen finished packing up her supplies and then she shot Sara a pretty smile before leaving the room. Sara felt too exposed just sitting by herself completely naked, so with some effort, she managed to stand and grabbed a knitted blanket that was laying at the end of the bed folded up. She unfurled the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders before shuffling over to the fireplace where it was warm. She took a seat in one of the reading chairs and sighed quietly, feeling sleepy, as she waited for Andewen to return.

A servant girl came by and filled the tub. She waited a while longer, but when the door opened again it wasn't Andewen who appeared.

"Sara?"

Rogan's deep voice startled Sara from her thoughts and she craned her head around the chair to look at him.

"Rogan?"

"Andewen has to tend to someone else, can I come in?"

"Of course," Sara replied, and she coughed lightly.

Rogan shuffled inside and closed the door. In his arms, he had a handful of clothing which he placed on the table before going over to see how Sara was doing. Andewen was a master of her craft, and as he peered at Sara's face, he still felt a lump rise in his throat as he remembered how badly she had been bleeding. The gashes had been reduced to little more than light red lines against her pale skin, but what bothered him the most was the state of her neck. It was already beginning to bruise, and he knew it would look even worse come morning time.

Sara peered up at Rogan with a mess of emotions rolling around inside of her. Part of her wanted to reach out and touch him but she knew he wouldn't like that so she refrained herself and pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, watching as Rogan took a seat in the chair next to her. He stared at the fire for a long moment before he finally opened his mouth to speak. Sara had also opened her mouth, and they spoke at the same time:

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry- what?" Sara said, and she looked at Rogan with a confused expression. "What could you possibly be sorry about?"

"I should have known there was a second scout. It was a larger camp than I anticipated," Rogan said with a small growl, and he clenched his hands into fists. "I shouldn't have let you out of my sight. I failed to protect you."

Sara felt like she had been stabbed in the chest. She stared at Rogan, who avoided looking at her and instead was staring at the floor. It was at that moment that she wanted to kiss him, but that thought only scared her and so she quickly shook her head and struggled to come up with a response.

"No, Rogan... It was my fault. I did a shit job of fighting back."

"How could you have fought back when you don't know how to use a sword," Rogan argued, and he finally looked up at her. "That bandit was almost three times your size and you cut half his tail off. He was enraged."

"I what ?"

"You cut half his tail off," Rogan repeated, and he frowned. "Didn't you know that?"

"I... um," Sara sighed, and she gingerly rubbed her temple. "No, I had no idea. He uh... he was dragging me by my hair and I just... swung my sword as hard as I could."

Sara understood now why the Argonian had been so furious.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Sara continued, and she struggled against the urge to cry yet again. "You um, you saved my life. I'm sorry I've set you back so much..."

"None of that matters," Rogan replied, and he rubbed his cheek before standing up. "I'll make sure you get to Riften where you'll be safer."

Sara wanted to talk more, to get Rogan to open up. She could tell that their encounter with the bandits troubled him greatly, but he was a closed book.

"You should bathe, and get some sleep. Don't worry about the time. You're injured... I won't rush you."

"Okay," Sara murmured. "Thanks for the clothes."

"Tell me if they don't fit, I'll find something else."

Rogan stared down at Sara for a brief moment before he forced himself to walk away. He quickly left their room and headed back to the bar where he ordered himself another ale, which he drank more slowly this time now that he had calmed down. He knew he was covered in blood and was probably pissing off any patron that was sitting nearby that could smell the stench, but he didn't care. He would bathe later when Sara was sleeping.

Sara. Seeing her being choked by a low-life bandit had filled Rogan with the some of the most intense anger. It was a wave of anger he hadn't felt in a while for an Orc who was oddly good at controlling his rage. But he had lost it the moment he knew Sara was in danger, and nothing could have stopped him from running his sword directly through the Argonian's chest.

"Should I go check up on her?"

Rogan was brought back to the present by the sound of Andewen's voice. He looked up at her, and he was comforted by her smiling face.

"Maybe you should," he replied quietly as he rubbed his neck. "She looked very tired."

"Okay, I'll be back in a bit."

Andewen disappeared back down the hall. She knocked lightly on the door but when she got no reply, she entered to find Sara asleep in the chair. She couldn't help but smile at how peaceful the girl looked, but she was still covered in blood and dirt. So, Andewen gently touched her shoulder, and quickly apologized when Sara jolted awake.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but I think you'd like to bathe before you sleep, no?"

"Oh," Sara replied sleepily, and she nodded as she rubbed her eyes. "Yeah, I feel gross."

"Come then, I'll help you. The water should still be hot."

Andewen helped Sara to her feet and they walked over to the large wooden tub. Steam still rolled off the surface of the water and Andewen checked the temperature before taking the blanket from Sara's hands. She tossed it on the back of a wooden chair and watched as Sara slowly slipped one leg over the tub, and then the other. She groaned quietly as she sank down into the hot water and closed her eyes, feeling utterly relieved to be able to have a bath. Andewen knelt beside the tub and rested her arm against the edge, watching Sara as she sank down further into the water.

"Feels great, doesn't it? After a long day's walk."

"It really does," Sara murmured, and she looked up at Andewen.

She was an Altmer with typically golden skin and eyes. Her hair was golden like the sun and it hung down in lusciously soft waves well past her waist. What struck Sara the most, however, was the genuine warmth in her eyes. It was different from what she had been used to in the game. She's really only encountered haughty, snobbish Thalmor agents more than anything, and so Andewen's personality was a breath of fresh air.

"You look like you want to say something."

"Oh," Andewen laughed, and she gave Sara a cheeky grin. "I'm sorry, you probably want to just relax..."

"I don't mind," Sara persisted. "You patched me up. Ask away."

"I'm just... I'm really dying to know how you met Rogan."

"You talk like he's a friend of yours. Do you know him well?"

Sara was curious as well, and the two women stared at each other for a brief moment.

"Yes, I guess you could say we're friends... although he wouldn't use that word."

"How do you- wait," Sara paused, and she shook her head. "You asked a question first."

Andewen smiled, and she reached up to brush a strand of hair away from Sara's face.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but it seems like you two just... know each other a little bit more than simple strangers."

"We really are strangers," Sara replied, and her brows furrowed together as she stared down at her bath water. "We met... well, I guess it was almost a week ago now. I just sort of... ran into him."

"Ran into him?" Andewen echoed, and she raised one delicate golden brow up in surprise. "Literally?"

"Yes, literally. I don't know how I ended up in Skyrim but it was a total accident."

"Oh my," Andewen whispered. "I'm sorry that happened to you."

"It's okay, I'm working through it.

"So, you literally ran into Rogan. How did he react?"

"He was furious and confused," Sara whispered, and she trailed her fingers across the surface of the water as she thought back to the first night they met. "He would have killed me if I had been anyone else. But he could tell I was harmless. I didn't have a stitch of property on me, let alone a weapon."

"He's a frustrating person to get along with," Andewen sighed, "but he wasn't always that way..."

Sara's eyes twinkled with curiosity as she looked at the healer; her tiredness from the day suddenly gone for the moment.

"How do you know Rogan?"

"We went to school together," Andewen replied lightly, and she rested her chin against her arm with a tiny smile. "We met at the College of Winterhold. I was a second year. He had just arrived and was trying to figure out where the dorms were."

"Oh wow, I know Rogan does magic but I can't say I really picture him the student type."

"He wasn't really the student type," Andewen laughed, and she wrinkled her nose. "Rogan was always getting into trouble. But he had potential. I could see it clear as day."

"That's fascinating," Sara mumbled, and then she frowned. "I hardly know anything about him. The entire time we've been traveling together I've learned about him through other people..."

"He's a stubborn Orc. His way of coping with pain is to get angry and push people away. He doesn't like anyone getting too close."

Andewen watched as Sara stared down at her hands, completely lost in thought. She studied her for a long moment, and she realized with a small jolt of surprise who the girl reminded her of.

Oh, Rogan, she thought with a small sigh as she gathered up a washcloth and the bar of soap. You put on a convincing front... but I know you better than that.

"Sara," Andewen said as she slid her legs across the floor so she was staring at the back of Sara's head. "Sit forward and I'll wash your hair."

"Oh, thank you," Sara replied quietly, and she slid forward.

A moment later she felt Andewen's hands as she cupped handfuls of water and trailed them down her hair. As the blood seeped from her thick locks it started to turn the water red. Sara shivered as she watched light red tendrils of blood mixed with soapy suds float along the surface of her bath and closed her eyes while Andewen washed her hair. Her touch was feather soft and when she was finished Sara was feeling even more relaxed by the gentle massage she had received.

Andewen handed Sara the cloth and stood up. She smiled down at Sara when she looked up and brushed her fingers along her cheek.

"I'll go check up on Rogan, will you be okay?"

"Yes," Sara replied, and she coughed lightly as she ran the cloth along her arm. "Thanks again."

"My pleasure, sleep well Sara."

When Andewen entered into the hall, she found Rogan still in the same spot she left him. His head was bowed as he clenched a half-finished bottle of ale but he was wide awake and he lifted his head up when he sensed her approach.

"It's been a long time," Andewen greeted.

"Has it?" Rogan replied, and he shrugged. "I don't keep track."

"It's been at least close to a year since I last ran into you at Candlehearth in Windhelm."

"Oh, I guess it has."

"Have you really been so out of touch with time?" Andewen teased, and she lightly pushed Rogan's armored shoulder. "You should really have a bath... I could smell you from the hall."

"Shut it," Rogan growled, but there was no anger in his voice as he looked over at her. "I'll bathe when Sara's sleeping."

"Curious girl, Sara. She told me how you two met."

"She did? I shouldn't be surprised. You always have a way of getting people to talk."

"You hate it more than anyone, I know. Yes... interesting first meeting."

Rogan shrugged again, and he took a swig of his ale.

"I guess."

"She's a nice girl, very sweet."

"I guess," Rogan repeated, and he rolled his eyes when Andewen shoved him again.

"How have you been?" Andewen asked, and when Rogan looked her in the eyes, he knew it was a loaded question.

"I've been fine," he replied lamely. "Been busy, really busy."

"So, I've heard. This Dawnguard business is all you're interested in now. Killing werewolves wasn't enough for you I see."

"I like the work."

"What about other things, Rogan?"

"Like what?"

"Like spending time with friends... or a companion, or anything outside of hunting down creatures of the night all day long."

"Friends," Rogan snorted, and he shook his head. "What need do I have for friends?"

Andewen stared at Rogan with an expression of shock. When he looked over at her, he could see the hurt in her eyes and he quickly opened his mouth to retract his statement.

"I don't mean you," he continued hastily.

"No, I get it. We hardly see each other more and... you're not the same person you were all those years ago."

"Andewen... you always bring up difficult things."

"I know I do, but somebody has to say it. What's so bad about finding a companion, Rogan?"

"Companion," Rogan echoed, and he scrunched his nose.

"What? A partner then, a wife even-"

"Wife," Rogan blurted back, and he rubbed the side of his face with a loud sigh. "I have no need for someone like that, Andewen."

"You're always alone," Andewen argued softly. "It wouldn't kill you to let someone in once in a while... not everyone is going to stab you in the back."

"Andewen," Rogan growled slowly through clenched teeth. "I can't handle your topics tonight. You're killing me."

"Okay, okay..."

Andewen sighed and tucked a strand of her long gold hair behind one pointed ear. She stared at Rogan with furrowed brows, wishing there was more she could do. She thought about Sara, who was probably fast asleep now. She was the polar opposite of Rogan, and she knew they had probably both driven each other mad over the course of their travels, but the raw emotions she had seen in Rogan's eyes when he ran into the Inn with her clenched in his arms couldn't be faked.

He's in denial like he is with everything in life... but I feel helpless to do anything about it.

"I'm sorry, friend. I just worry about you, ya know."

"You don't have to worry," Rogan replied, and he paused to knock the rest of his drink back. "I'm fine."

"I just want you to be happy..."

"I'm not… unhappy," he argued.

"Alright…"

Andewen rose up gracefully from the stool and Rogan glanced up at her. The robes she wore this night was a deep violet laced through with tiny gold thread and it contrasted her gold skin beautifully. She was tall, even by Elvish standards, and Rogan knew deep down that Andewen genuinely cared about him. She reached up to pat his cheek, which was streaked with dried blood. He just couldn't bring himself to show that he cared too much as well, and he couldn't let her get too close again.

"I know you're fine," Andewen said softly, and her smile could have melted hearts. "I just don't want you to get too old and when you can't hunt vampires anymore then you regret having not enjoyed the simpler things in life when you were younger... something to think about."

Before Rogan could even process a response, Andewen bade him goodnight and wandered back down the hall. Rogan watched her go with a frown on his face as he silently cursed the Elf for always making him feel too much.

When she was gone, Rogan waited a little while longer just to make sure Sara had had enough time to bathe and dress before returning to the room. He knocked, but after receiving no reply he slowly opened the door and peeked inside.

Sara was lying in bed, curled up so far beneath the blankets he could only see her damp brown curls peeking out. She was fast asleep, which Rogan double checked before he fetched a servant girl to change out the water in the tub. He didn't really want to bathe with Sara so close but he also didn't have the heart to leave her alone after what had happened. So, after triple checking that Sara was indeed asleep, he quickly stripped his soiled armor and underclothes off before slipping into the tub. He sank down under the water with a small growl of content. He was exhausted. Going into a berserk rage was taxing on the mind and body but Rogan had pushed through it because of Sara. His body ached from the strain it had endured but he was determined to finish his bath before passing out.

He spent several minutes undoing the braid that Sara had done for him a couple of days before and then dunked his head under the water. After a long moment, Rogan resurfaced and wiped the water from his face before he started lathering the soap into his hair. His eyelids felt very heavy, but he saw his bath through to the end.

When his hair and body was finally rid of the blood and grime, Rogan rinsed his hair and, after glancing back to make sure Sara was still asleep, he climbed out from the tub and quickly dried off. Then he tossed a tunic on and slipped into a pair of cotton pants before he walked over to the bed. His hair would have to wait until the morning, for he was just about dead on his feet.

Rogan lightly pulled the covers back, trying his hardest not to disturb Sara. She laid on her side facing Rogan but her eyes were closed. He stared at her for one long moment.

She looks so peaceful, his thoughts whispered against his will. Even after what happened... she's stronger than I thought.

Rogan shook his head and his throat constricted tightly. He forced himself to look away and quietly slid under the covers, careful not to lay too close to Sara in case he woke her up. He flicked his wrist and the candle resting on the bedside table went out, although the fire still burned brightly in the hearth, illuminating the room in its soft, peaceful glow.

"Rogan?"

Rogan was startled by the small croak, and he craned his neck to look back at Sara, who was staring right at him.

"Sorry, I tried to be quiet."

"It's okay," Sara mumbled sleepily, and she reached up to rub at her eye. "Um, Rogan?"

The way she whispered his name sent a shiver up Rogan's spine, though he forced himself to ignore it.

"Yeah?"

"I uh, I know this is um... a lot to ask but..."

Sara started to cough, and it took a moment for her to get her breath back.

"Will y-you please hold me?"

Rogan's heart pounded loudly in his chest as they stared at each other in the half dark. Sara's face was cloaked in shadow but he could see her well enough and the expression on her face made his chest hurt. He sucked in a deep breath, wishing only partly that he could tell her no. But another part of him rebelled against everything he thought he held sacred. Being alone, not letting his emotions show, never letting anyone get close. In just the span of a few days a girl he barely knew had such a profound effect to her that he barely recognized himself anymore.

Sara knew that she had asked the wrong person to comfort her. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and coughed again.

"Sorry, it's alright. Forget I asked."

"Come here," Rogan blurted, and he rolled over onto his side.

Before Sara could react, Rogan reached out, gently grasping her arm, and he pulled her closer. Sara shuffled forward, her body trembling slightly as she leaned her forehead against his thick chest. She could feel his arms wrap around her body, and the warmth that radiated off of him felt like she was being cuddled by a big electric blanket. He smelled like fresh soap and the pressure of his firm arms surrounding her was more comforting than any calming spell.

Sara let out a deep sigh, and Rogan could feel her body relax against his as she started to doze off. He remained awake for a long time, his thoughts far away as he laid in bed with Sara fast asleep in his arms. He could feel her warm breath against his chest and one hand lightly clenched his tunic. Eventually, he drifted to sleep and they both slept soundly until late the next day.