Lydia sat glumly near the fireplace in their shared quarters. She was looking at her Thane but not registering his movements as he prepared tea from his pack in two cups he grabbed from the dining area, using ice spells to provide the water before boiling it using a fire spell.
She had offered to make the drink but was sternly rebuffed and pushed into the chair. When she tried to get up, the Khajiit gently but firmly pointed out that she couldn't keep her hands from shaking and told her to stay seated.
Her mind was in turmoil, she felt useless and was sure that her Thane would dismiss her from his service any time now. She couldn't survive a word from a Tongue, never mind an actual Shout. How pathetic was that? Then to faint out of nowhere and need him to help her up?
The housecarl was so engrossed in her self-loathing that she was surprised when her Thane held a steaming cup in front of her.
"Drink slowly, it is still hot," he said gently, waiting until she had a secure grip before he retrieved his own cup and sat down in his own chair next to the fire.
She glanced at the deep russet tea inside, not recognizing it, before lowering the cup and starting to speak. "My Tha-"
"Ah ah, shhh…" her Thane immediately interrupted, softly blowing over his cup. "Relax and drink your tea. We can talk afterwards if you still want to then."
She frowned, but duly lifted her cup and took a sip. The tea didn't have a strong smell or taste, nothing like the sort of tea she was used to. She couldn't quite decide what it tasted like either, a wholly unique taste in her admittedly limited experience.
Something must have shown on her face since her Thane spoke. "The tea is made from a shrub that grows only in the higher plains and mountains above Anvil, down in Cyrodiil. I'm fairly sure I'm the only one in Skyrim who imports it. I have a standing order with some of the Khajiiti caravans to provide me with some when they can."
The tea helped her relax as the tension in her shoulders unwound, but her Thane's soft rambling went a long way as well. She was surprised to feel her heartbeat slow down from what must've been a frantic pace.
He had a smile in his voice as he continued, and she noted that his hood was back on, concealing his face. "This specific batch I harvested myself when I was there a few months ago. I've tried to grow my own, but the plant is very finicky and has thus far refused to yield anything in Skyrim. A real pity, you know, since you use the entire plant to make tea, not just the leaves like the fancy tea the nobles drink."
How panicked was she? She probably went into shock at some point while sitting. Did her Thane recognise the – he must have. That's why he insisted on making the tea.
"I usually add milk and honey as well, but taking it neat does the job as well. And, well, travelling usually prevents me from having either unless I'm stopping at an inn or a farm."
Despite her inner distraction and the soothing tone, she clearly heard and listened to everything the Khajiit said.
Soon enough, she found herself emptying the cup, time having passed in a flash and feeling considerably more relaxed. The Nord looked up to see her Thane working on dinner, dividing cured venison, dried fruits, and hardtack-like biscuits between two plates.
As she made to get up, the Khajiit glanced over and dissuaded her.
"No need, it's done already." He promptly put action to word and carried two plates to where she was sitting, handing one to her and sitting down in his chair.
She reluctantly started to nibble despite not having any appetite, experience telling her that her body needed food after injury, even if she was healed. Speaking of…
"My Thane?"
The Khajiit lifted his head and his ears swivelled to face her. "Yes Lydia?"
She took a deep breath to suppress the shame and spoke. "Thank you for healing me earlier."
Her Thane cocked his head to one side, confusion evident in his voice as he replied, "When did I heal you?"
He didn't remember? "Earlier this afternoon when Borri Spoke and-"
Her Thane interrupted. "Borri spoke? This afternoon? Wait, please start from the beginning."
The shame and feelings of inadequacy came roaring back and she looked to the ground as she explained. Because she looked down, she could see when the Khajiit's tail started to lash from side to side.
As she finished the explanation, she chanced a look at her Thane, sure that he was going to be disappointed in her. Therefore, she was surprised to see him taking deep breaths in a way she'd seen before, when he had to repress his anger. Was he angry at her? At Jarl Balgruuf for forcing her on him?
When he looked back at her, he spoke in a calm voice though his whipping tail belied his tone. "Would you mind if I checked to make sure that you're fully healed? I didn't see anything when I did a quick check after you fainted, but I would like to confirm with a more thorough check."
Chastened at the reminder, she nonetheless nodded, the piercing note of authority in his voice not brooking any dissent. The Khajiit walked closer, a white-golden glow in his right hand. She could feel something when he put his hand on her shoulder, similar yet different from what the priests back in Whiterun did.
After a few seconds, her Thane walked back to his chair. Instead of sitting down, he started walking up and down, tail lashing rapidly. "Thank you. I see nothing wrong, just some exhaustion that should be easily fixed with a good night's rest.
"Dur huznu," he muttered under his breath. "They really should've been more careful, since they knew you were there, and I specifically asked if you were allowed in the courtyard…"
She could hear a very faint rumble in his voice and shuddered involuntarily at the reminder. She heard a long sigh coming from the Khajiit and his chair creaked as he fell into it. She wasn't cut out to be the Dragonborn's housecarl, was she?
"The healing spell I cast has an area of effect. It heals everyone in an area, including the caster. It is called 'Grand Healing' and has been refined over millennia to be very efficient and effective. When I used the Fire shout, I lost some control of the fire, and singed my whiskers."
Her Thane sounded tired, but had a wry smile in his voice as he continued. "If you're not a Khajiit, or possibly a Lilmothiit, you won't know how annoying it is to have wet or damaged whiskers. If they are wet, it feels like you are swaddled in soaking wet blankets all over. Singed whiskers just make the world feel muffled, as if you're wrapped in wool. Needless to say, I despise it and cast the quickest healing spell I could to regrow them. As a happy side effect, that same spell healed you as well, but I didn't notice at all."
The Arch-Mage's explanation simultaneously clarified what happened and cemented her resolve. After a few minutes of silence, Lydia gathered her courage and looked up at the Dragonborn. He was lounging in the chair, apparently staring at the roof though the hood ensured she couldn't be certain.
"Thane?" Since her service to him was going to end anyway, she wanted to do it on her terms.
"Yes?"
She would be terribly shamed if she was dismissed. And while she didn't have family to shame further, it was still something she wanted to avoid with all her might. She took a deep breath.
"I wish to request that, instead of dismissing me, you allow me to keep my honour and earn my way to Sovngarde." There were bandits and vampires on the southern route back to Whiterun, surely there would be more bandits on whatever route they end up taking, at Valtheim if they went north for example.
"What on Nirn are you talking about?" The question from the Khajiit took her by surprise. He was staring at her, his face inscrutable with the hood covering it in shadow. Apparently, he was displeased enough to make her humiliate herself. He was a good actor to have the confusion sound so genuine.
Her honour might be tarnished by her inadequacy, but she would not tarnish it further! If it meant asking for it explicitly, then so be it. "My Thane, I wish to die in battle to avoid the shame of being dismissed from your service. I would be obliged if you ordered me to clear a bandit camp or vampire nest or something similar on my own when we leave High Hrothgar."
Ako was completely baffled at the request. Why was Lydia suicidal? Did his damn eyes affect her that badly? He would have to tread carefully to not exacerbate matters. Gently, he asked, "Lydia? Why would I want to dismiss you from my service?" His housecarl had a stoic expression on her face, but he could see the tense set of her shoulders.
She mechanically explained how she felt useless and contributed nothing. How an inattentive word from a Tongue nearly killed her, would've killed her if not for his unwitting rescue. What would she do against a dragon other than get in the way and get him killed? She was a burden, and worse, a quarrelsome burden too curious for her own good. Of course Ako was going to dismiss her from his service and petition Jarl Balgruuf to appoint another housecarl in her place.
The Arch-Mage stayed silent while his housecarl raged at her supposed shortcomings. She was doing her best to stay stoic, but flashes of frustration and desperation were evident in her voice. Almost regrettably, her resolve to die in battle wasn't hidden at all, firm and clear. The Nord was convinced there would be no other outcome.
He should've seen it coming, he knew how the Nords viewed the roles of a housecarl. Sixteen years in Skyrim ensured that. His dov side was humming in pleasure at the determination on show, her doggedness in pursuing the course she chose. It was a curious sensation, clashing with his self-castigation, and he was inclined to agree, she was worth keeping. Now to speak honestly and convince her that he would not dismiss her.
"Lydia. I am not going to dismiss you." Her shoulders relaxed a tad, though nothing showed on her face. He continued, "Nor am I going to send or allow you to go on a suicide mission."
The Nord's mask cracked as her confusion showed. "But!-"
Ako made sure to stop the almost indignant rebuttal in its tracks. "Hush, no buts. Let me finish before you try to convince me why you should be ordered to run your way into Sovngarde."
"When Jarl Balgruuf and I came up with the plan of making the Dragonborn a Thane and thus needing a housecarl, do you know what I asked for when he asked who would be best in that role?" The Khajiit looked fondly at his housecarl before he went on.
"I asked him for the most trustworthy warrior he could spare. Irileth recommended you, and she is far too professional to not give her true opinion for something like this. She said you are professional, a hard worker, skilled, and most importantly, loyal to a fault." The Arch-Mage noted a faint blush on the Nord's face with amusement.
"As I mentioned before, if you have questions, ask! If you think I'm being a fool, speak up! I won't be offended, and if I disagree, I will explain if I can. I am a teacher at heart, and nothing pleases me more than students asking questions and learning, no matter the subject or field."
His voice turned serious. "I see no reason for you to not continue as my housecarl. You know more about me than just about anyone other than perhaps Akatosh, and having someone you trust is comforting in these uncertain times. As your Thane, I apologise for not noticing your stress. I promise to do better and ensure you can take care of yourself in future."
Lydia sputtered. "B-but I should take care of you! You don't owe me anything!"
Ako quirked an eyebrow as he replied. "Does that mean the Jarl can sit and feast without doing anything for his subjects? Can I demand you protect me at all costs and not give the slightest heed to your own needs? Like trust, the bond between housecarl and Thane goes both ways. I trust you to protect me where needed. In return, I ensure that you can do that. If that means better equipment and training, so be it."
He shifted to look her straight in the eyes, even though his own was still hidden in the shadow of his hood. "If that means I have to make sure that you don't crack under pressure, so be it. If that means I must ensure you are happy, so be it!"
The housecarl was clearly struck by the words. Ako continued, just to drive the point home. "You are a worthy housecarl, and I can see that you will only become even more so as time goes on. Believe in yourself, Lydia, and nothing will stop you."
A pensive silence fell as Ako finished his speech. After a few minutes, he roused himself and looked over at Lydia.
"Get some rest, your body needs it. I still need to talk to the Greybeards. We might leave tomorrow, otherwise the day after. We can discuss our travel plans once we leave. I might want to stop at Whiterun, we'll see, but otherwise we head to Winterhold for the winter."
The Khajiit busied himself with packing away the remnants of dinner and going through some of the unsorted notes from the day. Lydia returned from the outhouse as he was consolidating his notes and quickly fell asleep.
Ako finished his notes and silently got up. He cast a calm spell at Lydia to prevent nightmares and left the room with a whispered "Sleep well." He had a long overdue talk with the Greybeards waiting.
The Arch-Mage made his way to the other wing of High Hrothgar in search of Arngeir. He'd been largely avoiding the topic since he discovered it back in Dragonsreach, which was… only ten days ago? It certainly felt much longer.
He found the Greybeard in the small sitting area near their sleeping quarters. The Nord looked up and invited Ako to join him.
The Khajiit sat down and enjoyed the quiet. After a few minutes of contented silence, Arngeir spoke.
"How is the young lady doing?"
Ako sighed deeply, having to suppress a thrum of anger before he replied. "Tired, but she should be recovered by tomorrow. The fainting seems to have been the result of mental stress accumulating over the past few days. As frenetic as it's been for me, I think she's had it worse.
"First, serving the legendary Dragonborn. Then discovering he's a Khajiit, and more, a mage. Two paradigm-shattering events in quick succession. That's not getting into the journey here, meeting you, and being exposed to the power of the Thu'um. She's bright, more than bright enough to realise that a dragon would do far worse than Borri did.
"I certainly didn't help by not paying that much attention to what she was feeling, focused as I was on my research and my own… predicament?" Ako huffed in amusement. "I suppose that is an accurate description, though not one the bards would use. Nothing malicious, but I still expect better of myself."
The Khajiit looked at Arngeir, a wry smile in his voice. "Apologies for the ramble. Sometimes you just have to speak your worries out loud, and, despite our rough start, I find myself trusting you sufficiently to do so with you."
He spoke with a musing tone as he finished, surprising himself by what he was saying. "I… don't see that you would abuse this trust; and that… is very much a novel feeling. So… I thank you for your hospitality, I thank you for your teaching, and I thank you for your guidance."
Ako finished by standing up and giving Arngeir a deep bow, despite the vehement protests from his dov-side at bowing to the joor. Ako gave it a mental kick and told it to shut up. He had been entirely honest, Arngeir deserved his respect, and he would acknowledge that.
The Greybeard was clearly surprised by his actions and took some time to respond. After a few minutes, the old man spoke. "Thank you for that honour, Dragonborn. On behalf of Borri and the rest of us, I apologise for the injury suffered by your Housecarl. He is feeling very guilty and is thankful that you healed her."
The Arch-Mage spoke up. "Make no mistake, I am furious that it happened. But… I also recognise that the anger would do nothing now. I am sure he will not let it happen again, and that will be enough for me."
Arngeir nodded sagely. "Indeed, and thank you. Borri has offered to explain his understanding of the Shout Whirlwind Sprint. We had been planning to teach the first word from the start, but he feels he has to offer more in recompense."
"Hmm… I don't know if I'll have time to practise the full shout. I have no shout that is fully realised yet, except perhaps Unrelenting Force, and that still needs refinement to be truly viable. Speaking of, this afternoon you were saying something about a final trial?"
"Ah, yes. The final trial before we fully acknowledge you as Dragonborn is to retrieve the horn of our founder, Jurgen Windcaller, from the high fane of Ustengrav. While I expect it to be a formality for you, it is a tradition that cannot be spurned – every Dragonborn that has been taught by us did the same." The Greybeard was very serious as he spoke, though he had a slight smile.
Ako chuckled lightly. "Heh. Fair enough. Where is Ustengrav, I don't recognise the name? And do you have a copy or an image I can use as reference?"
"It is in the marshes of Hjaalmarch, northeast of Morthal. And the statue in the main hall shows Jurgen with his horn at his belt."
"Thank you, that's convenient." The pair fell into another comfortable silence, each content with their own thoughts.
The silence was broken when Arngeir stood up to throw another log onto the fire, stirring the dying embers in the pit back to life. Ako spoke, "I have another topic I wish to ask questions on, and if I do not ask now, I'll never get around to it."
The Greybeard had settled back in his chair before replying. "I will answer if I can, I may not have the answers you're looking for."
The Khajiit was quick to reassure. "Of course, I'd appreciate any guidance you have. I don't recall seeing anything relevant in my research, so you are my last hope other than personal experimentation, and that is… somewhat distasteful for this."
Taking a deep breath, the Arch-Mage continued. "Do you have any records or tales of a Dragonborn influencing minds? I do not mean by charisma; I'm talking of actually controlling what someone says or does."
Arngeir was clearly taken aback by the question and spent several long minutes thinking before responding. "I cannot say that I know of anything of the sort. It would be a most profane use of the Thu'um to control someone's actions. Why do you ask?"
Ako sighed and answered in a flat voice. "After Mir-mul-nir was slain, I asked the other survivors of the battle to not speak of me as Dovahkiin. Instead, they should talk about some fictional Nord who ostensibly left the battle with me as the Dragonborn."
He gave a sardonic snort. "The Dragonborn is a very powerful pawn in Skyrim's politics. If I managed some control over who knew the Dragonborn's true identity, it would give me much power in negotiating an end to this senseless civil war. It would also prevent the various factions such as the Thalmor from having a clear target to go after.
"Regardless of why, I asked the other survivors to keep it quiet and misdirect if asked. Some hours later, I happened to be in the company of one of the survivors, the housecarl to the Jarl of Whiterun. After I told him the full story, he asked her to confirm that I was the Dragonborn of my tale.
"I expected her to confirm it, given that she was listening to the entire story. But for some reason, her eyes glazed over, and she repeated the false tale of the Nord who left with me being the Dragonborn. She was unaware of the question being asked or her subsequent response."
The Khajiit sighed. "I could find no trace of the compulsion being of magickal origin. At the same time, her actions made it clear that something was deeply influencing her mind."
The Greybeard considered the words thoughtfully. "Are you sure you were responsible?"
"Well, no. But given when it happened and who benefited from it, I am the only possibility that makes sense."
Arngeir could only shrug helplessly. "Unfortunately, I cannot think how this might have happened. As you say, it seems likely that you are responsible. But I do not know how. Perhaps Paarthurnax can provide guidance, but you cannot see him yet."
Ako pursed his lips and frowned. That didn't help him in the slightest! But Arngeir was clearly being truthful, so there was no point in getting aggravated.
He sighed before speaking again with a soft smile. "Thank you for your time. It's a pity, but nothing you or I can do at the moment. I will be heading to bed; I think tomorrow will be our last day here. Good night."
Leaving the Greybeard behind, Ako slowly ambled back to his own quarters. It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders having talked about the mind control, but the lack of answers was frustrating him in the extreme. Even if he couldn't replicate or understand it, perhaps he could break the geas with brute force? Something to consider.
4E 201, 8 Evening Star
Unlike the previous days at High Hrothgar, Ako found himself up and about well before sunrise, light just starting to touch the western horizon. Lydia was still sleeping soundly when he snuck out of the room, hopefully on her way to be fully recovered.
Borri was waiting at his practice rock, apparently having just arrived himself. The Greybeard seemed hesitant compared to before, and promptly whispered "Krosis unslaad," when he arrived.
The Khajiit knew the phrase to be the closest Dovahzul had to an apology, though it probably originated with the ancient Nords that served the dragons – why would a dragon ever have to apologise? He reassured Borri that Lydia was fine and that he would pass on the apologies to her. Settling down, Ako pulled out his ever-present notebooks and listened as Borri began whispering about Wuld – whirlwind.
As noon neared, Ako found himself frustrated. The full shout (named Whirlwind Sprint by the Greybeards) allowed the user to rapidly move in a straight line, and Borri described it as being carried by a whirlwind, driven by the fury of a tempest. The Greybeard demonstrated the shout twice, but the Arch-Mage hadn't managed even a facsimile of the effect.
While Ako was quite familiar with tempests and the fury of the wind they brought (he lived in Winterhold, after all, winter storms roaring in from the Sea of Ghosts could last weeks on end), he couldn't picture a whirlwind carrying him along, not at any sort of speed. The whirlwinds he was familiar with tended to slowly meander across a plain, kind of lazily throwing up dust or snow.
There were exceptions, of course – the Khajiit remembered one notable waterspout that crashed across the Leyawiin bridge in his youth – but his mental image of whirlwinds was rather demure and harmless. He felt that he could use the Shout fairly easily once he managed to grasp a suitable word to connect with Nah and Kest.
Unfortunately, he did not have time to sit and search for that word. It was already the 8th of Evening Star, and the roads in the Pale and Winterhold would be barely passable, with no improvement forthcoming until spring. Ako wanted to be back at the College before Saturalia and the New Life Festival, and the travel was likely to take the better part of two weeks if all went well.
He'd have to see what he could figure out on the road, along with his other Shouts. He turned to Borri and bowed lightly. "Kogaan fah mindok. Zu'u ni in nu, nuz Zu'u fen pruzah. Mu fent lif High Hrothgar nu fah… evgir iiz." Ako received a bow in return and packed up his notebooks.
Returning to the room he used, the Khajiit found Lydia sitting by the fireplace, embers still glowing softly. She looked up as he entered the room, a book falling off her lap as her attention left it.
Ako headed to his pack as he greeted her. "Morning Lydia. Slept well?" He put his notebooks away and pulled out a cloak.
"Good morning, my Thane. I slept well, thank you. Are we heading out?" Lydia had picked up the book – The Book of the Dragonborn, he noted – and stood up as well.
"Yes, I have learned what I can for now. I want to get back to Winterhold before the month is out, and the roads are terrible this time of year."
Ako finished rummaging in his pack and pulled it up onto the bed before turning to Lydia and switching to his 'healer voice' as some had referred to it. "I also want to do a quick check on you to see how hard we can push after yesterday."
Lydia made to protest, but wavered in the face of the Arch-Mage's raised eyebrow and nodded. He ran the same check as the previous day and was pleased to find no lasting injury or symptoms. Even the mild exhaustion had disappeared, clearly his housecarl had slept long.
Removing his hand from her shoulder, a golden white glow fading from his hand, he spoke. "Nothing to see, which is good. I need to talk to Arngeir still, pack your bag and meet me in the lobby once you're done."
"Yes, my Thane."
Carrying his pack and dropping it in the lobby, Ako went in search of Arngeir to say goodbye.
With their farewells taken care of, Ako and Lydia set off in a companionable silence. They were aiming to reach the same cleft they had slept in on the way up. Ako spent the time walking just letting his mind wander idly over the knowledge he had gained in the three days spent at High Hrothgar.
While it was only a short stay, the Khajiit felt he had gained everything he could out of the visit. His mind was full of new knowledge to be sorted, and he had a lot of fertile areas he could continue working on for some time yet.
Having made it to their destination shortly before dusk, the travellers quickly set up their camp. When he'd finished his lesson with Borri earlier in the day, he'd noted a storm front rolling its way up the White River valley, driving a warm, dry wind ahead of it from the northeast.
The bulk of the peak sheltered their camp from most of the wind, set as it was in a cleft running northwest to southeast, perpendicular to the wind. The front would probably reach the Throat of the World a few hours before dawn. Ako shuddered at the thought – the next day or three would be cold, wet, and very miserable.
That did bring up the question of what their plans for the immediate future were. The southern pass, the way they came, would be impassable once the storm hit, likely to be covered in copious heaps of snow. They would have to head north from Ivarstead. Pulling out his map, he looked at their options from there.
He had some thoughts on freeing Irileth and the other guards from the geas, and thus wanted to check in at Whiterun before heading to Winterhold. There was a shorter route going east of the Shearpoint ridge and passing near Windhelm that would save a day or two, but not only was that a fraught prospect in terms of potential political pitfalls, it would also lead them straight through the stormy area.
Stowing the map and looking over at Lydia, the Khajiit spoke. "Right, I think we need to talk about our plans for winter, while we can still hear each other and string two thoughts together."
The housecarl dutifully paid attention, though she looked puzzled at the second part of his statement. Ako clarified with a chuckle in his voice, "There's a big storm rolling up the White River valley. Tomorrow will be unpleasant, probably the day or two after as well."
Lydia grimaced at the thought but seemed resigned.
The Arch-Mage continued, "I'm thinking five days from here to Whiterun, and then another five days from there to Winterhold if the roads aren't too terrible. The storm will almost certainly slow us down, but I'm hoping it won't last until we get there."
He leant forward and spoke with a serious tone. "Now, one more thing we need to settle. I am heading back to the College for the winter. You can tag along, or you can stay in Whiterun until spring." Ako held up a hand to forestall her instinctive response.
"Let me finish my explanation before you make a decision. Remember when I talked about politics and keeping the Dragonborn's identity a secret? Unfortunately, that now includes you, which is why I asked for the most loyal housecarl I could." He was pleased to see that her cheeks pinked slightly at the compliment. She needed the confidence to perform optimally.
"You are known as the Dragonborn's housecarl. Thus, if you want to stay in Whiterun, you need a reason why you're not at his side. That's fairly easy, we can say the Greybeards didn't allow you to stay while the Dragonborn was being trained over the winter.
"If we do that, you'll have to 'sell' the story, I have no doubt that spies and agents from all the factions are already in Ivarstead waiting for you and the Dragonborn to come down. The less association there is between me and the Dragonborn, the better. So I won't be able to openly travel with you when others can see, so you'll spend the night in Ivarstead alone.
"On the other hand, if you want to come along to the College, we'll probably have to disguise you as a new student – why else would you be going to the College? That means robes, a cloak, probably a hood as well, which we'll need to get somewhere before we get to the cities. It will mean we need to avoid Ivarstead on our way north – if the agents don't know we've left the mountain, that's great."
The Khajiit hummed thoughtfully. "In that respect, the dreadful weather will be a massive benefit – people are unlikely to be out and about to see us as we skirt around the town. Anyway, those are the options. What would you prefer?"
The Nord answered with no hesitation. "I would choose to go with you to Winterhold, my Thane."
Ako chuckled. "Heh. Can't say I'm surprised by that. Of course, that means you will have to learn some magic." He laughed at the startled face his housecarl made. "I was thinking that healing is a good place to start, always good to know some, no matter who you are. It also forms the basis for the more esoteric Restoration practices, including strengthening magicks and other ways to improve your body's performance. I call it Proactive Healing for Enduring Warriors! As in, PHEW, one less meathead I have to heal!" he finished sardonically.
Lydia, initially confused, couldn't help a few giggles at the end, pleasing Ako. Silly though it was, his housecarl was bright, and the thankful look showed she understood what it meant – a way for her to improve and contribute more against dragons.
Getting up and stretching, the Khajiit spoke with a gentle smile. "Let's get to bed – we'll need all our energy and concentration tomorrow." After setting a few traps and summoning a guard for the night, he got in his bedroll, dreams content.
AN: Massive thanks to AshesToDusts for betaing! Go appreciate his stories, they're worth a read. I've also started posting on AO3, same username, if you want to read there instead. I'll be posting a chapter a week there until I've caught up to here and SV.
A slightly shorter chapter here, but don't worry, that's because the original chapter 10 underwent mitosis again - chapter 12 will be coming once Ako and Lydia finally make their way to Winterhold rather than getting distracted by things on the way. This chapter is largely transitionary, but I found it extremely important in terms of nailing down what Ako and Lydia's relationship will be going forward. The topics mentioned will also be important going forward for how the story will develop. As I've mentioned repeatedly, I am just along for the ride and documenting it – I have vague ideas what I want to happen, but only Akatosh knows if those things will happen in the end.
Chapter 12 does a bit of a deep dive on some of the metaphysics and how (some) magic works, so you can look forward that. I've fleshed out on my side how I understand and view the different magics of Nirn, and if enough people pester me I'll post it along with chapter 12. There shouldn't be large spoilers in it, but again, not really my story, haha. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this look into the characters, please let me know if you enjoyed or if I screwed something up somewhere, I'm always happy to improve my writing.
Translations for those who are curious:
Dur huznu – Cursed careless/heedless/reckless [ones]
joor – mortal
Krosis unslaad – Eternal sorrow, used as apology
Wuld Nah Kest – Whirlwind Fury Tempest
Kogaan fah mindok. – Thank you for [the] knowledge.
Zu'u ni in nu, nuz Zu'u fen pruzah. – I [am] not [a] master now, but I will improve/be better.
Mu fent lif High Hrothgar nu fah… evgir iiz – We must/shall leave High Hrothgar now for… [the] season [of] ice (winter).