Prompt: Spiders
Focus: Derkeethus


The clash of metal against metal rang around the dank, musty ruin, and Derkeethus stared intently at the brass-tinted creature from the balcony above, the robotic figure digging its multiple legs into the body of his friend's rounded shield. His tail flicked around anxiously as he notched an arrow, its head gleaming dimly in the poor light, and he let the missile fly from his bow, picking off another dwarven spider that was in the middle of escaping the hatch built into the wall. The wooden shaft smashed into the ruby center of the automaton's core, and the spider collapsed limply, its power drained in an instant. His fingers darted into his quiver as he grabbed another arrow, his eyes locked on something that approached from behind.

"Talkeeva!" He yelled, watching as the Argonian swung her arm towards the fancifully-carved stone, crushing it against the wall, and she turned her head upwards to look at him. She grew tense as the stealthy spider's legs scraped against the floor, pouncing. Derkeethus felt his heart pound hard against his chest as he lashed forward, pointing at the enemy with an outstretched finger. "Look out!"

She spun on her heels, her elegant sword flashing as she brought it to her chest, but the spider had already caught her off-guard, sending her tumbling to the ground as her foe stabbed its legs at her light armor, the supple leather fraying slightly from the repeated jabs. Derkeethus barely felt himself move as he drew back the bowstring, struggling to aim at the spider as his partner struggled against its grip. He couldn't get a solid shot; hesitation began to prickle at his heart as the arrowhead's lineup wobbled from Talkeeva to the spider.

"What are you waiting for!?" She flung her weapon away and slammed her fist into the spider's armor, a futile action that only earned her a shallow cut on her side. She hissed in pain, and Derkeethus felt himself pull the arrow tauter than normal. "'Keeth, shoot!"

On her order, he shot, scarcely registering the subtle movement of his fingers as the rush of air moved past his arm. The sound of breaking crystal brought a grim smile to his face, only to be replaced by shock as a flash of light erupted from the spider, accompanied by a blast of lightning and a loud scream. His blood ran cold, his chest tightened. No…! "NO!"

He leapt from the balcony as the din subsided, slipping his bow between his quiver and back as he slammed into the floor, grunting from the landing, and he rushed over to the convulsing adventurer, the so-called-corpse of the dwarven spider bouncing around limply atop her twitching midsection. Talkeeva's orange eyes were the size of platters, cloudy and unfocused as the current of magical electricity coursed through her body, making her fingers, shoulders, knees jostle about, and Derkeethus dropped to his knees, gingerly feeling the small of his friend's back as he lifted her up, her backpack slipping from her arms from the motion. Growling, he roughly yanked at one of the spider's legs, flinging it across the room. It clattered into the wall and sank to the floor, leaving the room deathly silent.

"Tal…" He dropped his voice to a whisper, squeezing the woman's shoulder. The spasms quickly ceased, leaving her prone in his arms. Derkeethus slipped his free hand into the backpack, fumbling around in increasing panic as he groped aimlessly for something, anything.

What she'd probably be telling him right now started to chant in his head. She wasn't dead. It was just a spider and a little bit of lightning, that's all. Feeling a glass neck, the Argonian archer pulled out a small bottle, 'heal true' scrawled on its side, and pulled the stopper.

She wasn't dead. A swig of potion, and everything'd be okay. Gently tipping the medical brew, he slipped open her jaw and watched as the mysterious liquid flowed into her mouth, a few dribbles running down the scales of her chin.

A deathly silence hung over the room, the droplets lingering for a moment before falling onto the stone floor, with not even a splatter of noise. For the first time since he'd begun traveling with her, he felt a prickle of dread.

Not fear; fear was what he felt when he faced the troll the first day they'd set off together, or what he felt whenever the weapon of a bandit grazed at the horns on his head. No, this was dread, true dread, the kind that made his muscles so tense he couldn't ease himself back down. For a moment, he looked around the dwarven ruin, his gaze lingering on the multitude of hatches and brass dwarven faces. He could feel their ghosts, watching him, mocking him.

He shook his head, looking at Talkeeva. She wasn't dead. He'd prove them wrong.

She wasn't dead.

Wasn't she?

"H-heh…"

A weak chuckle, followed by a gasp, sent indescribable waves of relief through his heart, and his friend's eyes fluttered open, glancing weakly at the broken machine. "N-never… s-seen 'em pull th-that trick before…"

"Don't talk, you're still weakened," He responded like clockwork, sliding the wounded woman around so she could lean against the wall. She exhaled shallowly as she smacked her lips, and Derkeethus practically tore open the backpack, poking his nose in as he looked for another healing potion. "We should rest here for a while."

"Hmph…" She grunted, taking a brief peek at the stab wounds on her armor. "Is th-the… l-lexicon okay?"

"What? B…" She had to be joking, Derkeethus thought to himself, as he pulled a cube out from the depths of the bag, jostling bits of travel food and other supplies in the while. The strange runic inscriptions pulsed with an ominous red glow; this was the first thing her mind jumped to, when she had nearly just been… "Y-yes, it's right here."

"G-good…" His friend smiled through her wheeze, slumping against Derkeethus' side. He began to look through the backpack again, dropping the ancient cube back inside. There had to be something else he could do to make her more comfortable, or at least to help ease the pain of the shock. "Th-then just… l-let… me…"

Her voice trailed off, the room growing quiet again, and a sparkle of crystal caught the Argonian's eye. Pulling out another bottle, this one simply marked 'heal', he turned to his companion, his shoulders hunched. He froze at the soft snore that escaped the woman's throat, and he moved his arms out of the way as she slid down the wall, her head landing neatly on his knee. He grasped the potion tightly in his fist, his thoughts wavering from one to another before he finally closed it up and returned it to the backpack.

"Just… let you rest, hm?" He scooted closer to the wall, his palms brushing against his friend's silver horn bangles as he sat down and rested her atop his lap. Letting his fingers rest on the Argonian's neck, he sighed in resignation at his temporary status as a pillow, sending a defiant glare at one of the dwarven faces that leered back.

"Are you watching?" He muttered. The fact that there wasn't anyone to hear him gently poked at the back of his mind, but right now a sense of vague valor pushed it away. "Go ahead. Watch. We won't go down without a fight."

He could have sworn that the face seemed to frown at him.


A/N: Giving Skyrim's Dwarven Spiders the ability to electri-splode when defeated was one of the meanest things Bethesda could have pulled on someone who fought them all the time in TES3.