Darren squinted his eyes and inspected the bookcase. He was pretty sure he had found his entire book collection in the battlefield that used to be his living room and put them in order again.
"What creature are these bones from?" Borgakh asked, peering down a wooden barrel filled with dragon bones used for forging armor. "A giant?"
Darren sighed and walked up to his new wife. For the past hour he had been cleaning up her mess and all she had done was opening all the drawers and chests, pulling stuff from the walls and asking where these items came from or what they did. Lydia had chosen to stay at the barracks. Probably a good thing until she was no longer mad at him.
"Dragons." He replied taking the lid from her hands and closing the barrel again. "Both big and small ones."
"And that glowing sword?" She started again, pointing to a sword stuck in the wooden ceiling, apparently used in the fight between Borgakh and Lydia.
"I got that for becoming a thane, which hold I can't remember but it's written on the handle. Put it on the wall with the other ceremonial sword. The shield must be somewhere around here."
Darren couldn't help but snort at the realization that this searching for his stuff in the wreckage felt a lot like his adventures, just without the killing and a lot of walking. Most of the room was now kind of resembling a normal living room again and he thought it would be fair if Lydia cleaned up the rest. After all she created about half of it.
"Let's call it a day for now. You got your traveling pack ready? I need some fresh air and check up on some people out of town." Darren said, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"I am already packed. Your housecarl didn't exactly give me a chance to unpack…" Borgakh said dryly, pulling her pack from underneath the stairs. "Where are we going, husband?"
Darren shuddered at that, feeling very uncomfortable. "Look, I know we are married now, but its because you struck a deal with the jarl. So this marriage exists in name only and I don't want you to think it is anything but that."
"Is that a challenge?" The orcess growled. "A challenge to both the gods and my honor?"
Borgakh looked around the room for a weapon but Darren held up his hands up in surrender before things got out of hand.
"Let's just see if you can keep up traveling with me in the first place. No insult to your honor was meant and the gods will handle their own business with me. They might try to strike me down. Maybe… Again… Just keep it hidden for now. There are some people out for my blood and it would be wise for you to learn who they are before you go and tell them. That's how you avoid ending up with a dagger in your back if you are not careful."
Somehow the appeal had effect and Borgakh relaxed her stance. Lucky me! Darren thought but he had cheered to soon apparently.
"For now my lips are sealed, husband." She made sure to empathize the last word, knowing it would frustrate him. "But you will never deny it if someone asks. Secondly, you will talk to me. Ever since we reunited you have been quiet aside from short answers and instructions. I am your first wife and if we go by Nord traditions, your only wife. We are now responsible for each other. I want this marriage to work, no matter how it came to be."
She stepped closer to him and dropped her bag on the floor with a thud. Invading his personal space their noses were almost touching and she raised a gloved hand to caress his face softly. Darren knew she was trying to be lovingly or maybe even seductive, but when a large warrior clad in heavy plate is trailing their fingers on your face it seems more like a bandit leader trying to intimidate you by playing the part of a psychopath/rapist. Darren froze, not sure what to do. He actually preferred the bandit leader, as a shout or a mace to the skull would have solved the situation.
"Please don't. It feels rather unnatural and forced." Darren pleaded, his voice a bit higher than normal. "But we have a deal."
Borgakh stepped back and went to pick up her bag again. Darren let out the breath he had been holding and moved to pack his stuff. Why couldn't it just have been a beautiful soft elf? Or any normal Nord women? The dragonborn kept muttering curses at the Nine gods while he collected all his belongings. When he was done he turned back to Borgakh. She had picked up another weapon from the messy heap that still needed sorting and was turning the orcish blade over in her hands.
"Might If I use this one instead? And where were we going? You never told me." She said, not looking away from the blade in her hands.
"Sure, take it. I prefer maces anyway. As for our destination, we are visiting some old friends. I hope you packed up enough food to last you to Riften."