Chapter 7

Malath could feel the rise and fall of her chest with each breath, and she snored ever so softly. It was pretty adorable; and he lay there for quite some time after he had woken up, reveling in the feeling of her arms wrapped around him. He felt like a coddled child, and it felt good. Last night, when he thought about it, made him shiver at how exposed Lenia had made him feel. Malath had almost been crushed by his own thoughts alone, something he used to drown out with booze every night. There had not been a lot of talking, but she didn't need to use her words to convince him to leave Whiterun. No, her touch alone was what woke him up.

His arm had fallen asleep, and after a while, it became too unbearable, so Malath rolled onto his back and yawned. He listened as Lenia shifted beside him. When he glanced over she was laying her side now; facing him, her eyes still closed and fast asleep. He quietly sat up and placed his feet down on the chilly floorboards, scratching his chin. Malath stretched, and then rose to his feet, feeling less groggy than he ever had in a long time. It wasn't as large of a chore to find his dresser. He checked to make sure she was still asleep. He surprised himself as a smile rose to his lips while he watched her sleeping form. She looked so peaceful, so innocent. He wondered how such a dumb Orc like him had been blessed by such a good person as Lenia.

Malath slipped his rumpled tunic over his head and shoved the clean one on, following the same manner with his breeches. He realized with a small jolt of excitement and nervousness that he'd need to dig out some armor if he was indeed expected to travel. If this was not some elaborate dream that his cracked mind had conjured up. He'd have really lost it if that were the case.

"Malath?"

Her voice brought him back to the present, and Malath turned to her. She yawned, stretching her arms above her head and smiled sleepily at him. It was too much, and even he had to admit it made his stomach twist into knots.

Lenia pushed the covers back and climbed out from the bed, padding over to him. Malath stood still, unsure of what she was doing, and then the elf reached up and pulled him into a big hug.

"Did you sleep well?" Lenia asked as he returned the gesture. He still wasn't used to it.

"Yeah," he replied gruffly, coughing.

He didn't like how she made him feel so emotional. However, it was hard not to laugh at the state of her curly hair, which stuck up in all directions around her face. He scowled when she turned her back to him and retrieved her discarded shoes. He almost called her cute.

I am an Orsimer. I do not think things are cute.

Lenia patted down her hair as she continued her way down to the first floor. He could hear her rustling through the cupboard. Malath's stomach growled. They hadn't eaten dinner the night before. After a moment he joined her downstairs and poured himself a cup of water. He was forcing himself to start the day on a good foot, for Lenia's sake. Malath looked up to find her staring at him, one thin eyebrow raised.

"What?" He blurted out.

"You know that's water, right?"

Malath let out a huff, and Lenia laughed.

"Shove it," he replied gruffly, gulping down the tasteless drink. It did feel good on his dry throat.

Malath wandered over to the fire pit and glanced down at the blackened mess of what was supposed to be last night's dinner, chucking to himself.

"What's so funny? Oh."

Lenia sighed and picked up the pot, moving back towards the barrel that held water, and scooped a few cups into the charred cookware.

"Just leave it," Malath told her, walking over to the elf. He took the pot from her hands and placed it down on a shelf.

"We'll get a new one."

"Are you sure?" Lenia replied quietly.

She seemed upset that she had ruined a pot. It was silly.

"O-of course, it's not a big deal. I am not a poor man if you haven't noticed."

He replied more gruffly than he had intended, slightly thrown off by her reaction. But Lenia's expression lightened considerably after a few minutes, and she was well on her way to frying up eggs for the two of them. Malath poured himself another drink and did some thinking.

I'll be traveling with a small elf to the College of Winterhold.

He frowned, watching Lenia as she cooked. He did vow he'd never go back to that place, and he was surprised he was able to tolerate being around Lenia knowing she was a mage. Malath had to wonder what she wanted him to do.

"Lenia," he called out, and the girl glanced over.

"What exactly do are you asking of me?" Malath inquired.

Lenia was silent for a moment while she brought over their breakfast and dished it out onto two worn silver plates.

"Well, I know you don't like magic…" Lenia started, sighing at his darkened expression. "I know you've been there before, Urag told me you've been to him in the college when you were searching for an Elder Scroll."

She sure knew a lot about his career. The Orc was silent, waiting for her to finish.

"We have nothing but respect for you, and since you obviously performed the necessary test to gain entrance, to begin with. I figured you could just join me in my assignments."

Malath mulled over what she had said, remembering the only time he had cast a spell. It had been a weak spell, just a small fireball, but he had no choice at the time. He was running out of options and was desperate for answers. That was the one and only time he had used magic.

"What are your tasks?" He asked quietly, and Lenia smiled.

"I don't know what the future holds, or if it will be stand up to the great task of entertaining the legendary Dragonborn. But for starters, I have to travel to Saarthal and meet the other apprentices there for an excavation."

"So, we're not actually going to the College first," Malath replied, feeling a little hopeful.

It's not the first place he'd like to go to after stepping outside Whiterun for the first time in over three years. That sure was a killjoy.

"Nope," Lenia grinned. "Saarthal first."

He smiled a little. An excavation he could handle.

"Alright," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady though his heart beat pounded against his chest.

"Guess we should leave soon then huh?"

Lenia knew Malath was trying to buy time, insisting they go through every crate in his entire house. They were filled to the brim. Once each one was inspected he would make decisions as to what he would take. That took a good hour or so until the picky Orc finally settled on a very worn set of ebony armor. She had an inkling suspicion that he knew what he wanted right from the start.

"This looks a little different," Lenia mused, holding up the chest piece.

There were no shoulder pauldrons for one. She could sense this set was a little different. "Enchanted?"

"Yup," Malath replied. "The only magical thing I tolerate. Other than you."

"Very interesting," she murmured, watching the Orsimer as he puttered around the crates.

He gently cradled artifacts in his hands as he placed everything back in the correct place. It was very orderly.

A satchel had been dug out for him, as well as a very beautiful ebony sword.

"Going with a theme here," Lenia joked, taking the sword from Malath's hands as he handed it to her.

"S'good stuff," he muttered, and she nodded.

They spent another half an hour packing up the satchels; the one she had brought as well as Malath's. It took a good ten minutes to help him into his armor, as he was quite restricted with movement. The Orsimer was very tense while she worked.

"Can you… stop—Malath!" Lenia huffed, wrenching on his arm.

He had it glued to his side and she moved in front of him to figure out what was going on. He stared at the girl, but he was focused on something beyond. Lenia panicked a little bit.

"Malath what's wrong?" she asked softly, and the Orsimer chuckled. It was unsettling to hear.

"Funny," he replied slowly, suddenly moving.

He lifted up one armored arm and looked down at half of his ebony armor. From his hips down were still just breeches. "It still feels so familiar, and somehow foreign. But I need to fill it out."

His voice sounded slightly disappointed. Lenia knew he would gain his physical strength back in due time.

Lenia sighed in relief, and then quickly punched his arm. Malath growled, finally focusing on her, and rubbed his arm.

"What was that for?" He barked.

"For making me worry!" Lenia replied angrily, but she was smiling. "I thought you had turned to stone!"

"Oh," Malath replied and shook his head. "Sorry."

"It's ok," Lenia said softly, moving forward. She finished helping him put his armor on and stood back to look at her handiwork, a grin on her face.

He looked incredible.

"Wow," she commented breathlessly.

"What?" Malath glanced down nervously, fidgeting with the gauntlets.

"You look like a hero," She replied, and she swore the Orsimer blushed, though it was hard to tell with his dark skin.

"Oh stop," he replied darkly, "I am half the Orc I was when I last wore this armor."

"Well you are a bit thin," Lenia admitted, "but you look good. Once a warrior always a warrior. You carry yourself like you haven't spent a day away from an adventure."

That struck a chord, and Malath turned away from her. She watched as he brought a hand up to his face. Lenia couldn't tell if he was crying out not but she felt a little bad for overwhelming him so early in the morning.

Please don't back out now, she pleaded silently.

He stood with his back to her, and she picked up the ebony scabbard laying on the table. She brought it over to Malath.

"Here."

Lenia tapped his shoulder, and the Orc turned around.

"Nearly ready."

They stood by the door, adjusting their packs and double-checking for supplies. Lenia wore her blue mages robes and a pair of sturdy leather boots. Two staffs were strapped to her back along with a satchel and bedroll. One staff was lightning, the other flames. Malath's ebony sword hung by his side and it looked completely at home. Lenia tried not to beam too much with happiness, but it was hard. The Dragonborn himself would be traveling with her. A nobody apprentice mage. it was truly an honor.

They entered into the street and Malath locked the door, taking his sweet time to do so. She knew he was nervous, and so Lenia tried to be as comforting as possible.

"Oh, what about your housecarl?" Lenia piped up as they began walking down the hill. "Won't she want to know you're leaving?"

"I don't care," came the Orc's short response. Lenia didn't push it.

They traveled the short distance to the gates. It took a moment to realize that Malath had stopped several steps back from her as she reached the guards standing by.

"Malath?"

He didn't answer her, and the guards gave him a few curious glances.

"I haven't left Whiterun for three and a half years," he whispered, his voice so deep and low that she barely caught what he said.

"Now's a good time, good weather" Lenia replied cheerfully.

But he didn't move a muscle. She sighed.

"Come on," she continued quietly, "don't make me hold your hand in front of all these men."

Malath gave her a sharp glance, and Lenia stuck her tongue out at him to try and ease his nervousness. Suddenly he shook himself out of his stupor and strode forward, pushing open the gate. He continued walking quickly, never looking back at the city, and did not slow down until they had made walked several feet down the road.

"I'm proud of your enthusiasm," Lenia called out, nearly running to catch up with the tall roaming Orsimer. "But you're going the wrong direction.

Malath stopped, and she knew he was seeing his surroundings for the first time.

His laughter echoed in her ears; startling nearby deer, and it was the nicest sound in the world.