Prompt: Dragonborn
Focus: Derkeethus
Derkeethus' footsteps splattered through the sewers as he dashed through the murky tunnels, hopping off of a ledge and running further into the halls, a pair of angry thieves yelling distantly behind him. His nostrils burned from the horrid scent of the fetid, slimy water that trickled down the brick walls, and he kicked against the damp stones underfoot, his armor and bow bumping and jostling around on his back. His eyes widened at the sight of a door hanging wide open, and he bolted right through it... only to gasp and skid to a stop when he stepped on a small, loud something-or-other, hearing it crumble against his heel.
"What was th-?" He murmured as he lifted his boot, taking the moment to catch his breath as he eyed the worn, musty shards of pottery. The scent of oil and fire briefly swept past his snout, and his mouth twitched as he thought to himself – she'd shown him this kind of latnern before, but if the smell was so strong... she'd been through here. "Tal'... I don't understand."
Looking back up, he glanced around, spotting yet another tunnel to his left, and he took a deep breath, then coughed in dismay at the taste of the wretched Ratway air. Reaching up, the Argonian rubbed at the base of one of his horns, tracing his fingers down its curl as he stared into the darkness. What in Kynareth's name had gotten into her...? They fought against a dragon, she managed to actually kill the thing, and then she fled the scene right afterward? The miner-turned-adventurer couldn't make heads or tails of it. A strange anxiety jolted through his senses.
A sudden yelp rang out from somewhere, and the lizard jumped on the spot, glancing furtively around the sewers before breaking into a jog again, barely even noticing the broken bear traps on the ground as he passed through one tunnel and entered the next. He inhaled and exhaled, trying his best to calm himself as he felt blood pulsing through his veins. Torchlight flickered in his vision as the hall opened up again, casting a warm orange glow onto the sickly-colored stones, and he slowed his pace somewhat, breathing hard. Swiveling on his heels, he trotted up a nearby set of stairs – and then he halted in his tracks, gazing at the iron-bar door that was standing just a short few steps away.
There she was.
Sunlight – or at least, it looked like sunlight – filtered down from the ceiling and shined onto the leafy plants and roots sprouting up from the floor. Thick vines and strands of ivy drooped from the walls, greedily sopping up the filthy sewer water, and a couple of torchbugs flitted about, flying from perch to perch. Talkeeva sat on a stump in the middle of the room, her feet pressed against the base of the trunk, one hand on her lap and the other rubbing at her forehead; light gleamed against the small, silver baubles hanging from her horns.
Despite himself, Derkeethus couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief, his chest heaving as he let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Talkeeva...?" He started, reaching towards the door, but it creaked open even at the slightest touch... then stopped against a limp, unmoving body. The Argonian gulped at the sight.
"Wh-!?" His adventuring partner reached for her sword, then gasped slightly when she looked at the doorway, both of them visibly tensing up.
The two stared at each other for what seemed like ages, time slowing to a crawl. The silence was only broken by the faint sound of droplets, falling into the Ratway from high above their heads. Absently, Derkeethus thought he heard a rat skittering about.
"'Keeth." The lady in front of him breathed, coming back to her senses much faster than her partner did. He watched, his throat suddenly turning quite dry, as she looked away, bringing her hands away from her gear and dropping them into her lap instead. She gazed down at her feet for a few moments, then looked back up, licking at her lips. "You made it here on your own?"
Derkeethus blinked, then nodded hastily in response, taking another tentative step forward, his eyes instinctively drawn to the corpse splayed out on the ground. "It... wasn't very hard."
"...fair enough," Talkeeva replied; she stole a glance at him, looked down, then back up towards the sunlight, deliberately avoiding his gaze. "Don't worry, I only knocked him out. He'll have a headache, but that's all."
The Argonian blinked again, then looked down at the unconscious, raggedly-garbed man, finally drawing close enough to notice the rise and fall of his chest. The corners of his mouth twitched upward: of course she hadn't killed the beggar. It wasn't in her nature.
The two of them let the conversation trail off into silence again, and Derkeethus idly adjusted the straps of his armor, the tip of his bow nudging against his tail. Talkeeva continued to peer at the hole in the ceiling, clearly hoping he wouldn't ask her anything, and the realization made him remember exactly what he wanted to ask her. Clearing his throat, and wincing again at the taste of the foul air, he took another step forward, reaching out to his adventuring partner and speaking up.
"Tal'... why didn't you tell me?"
Her head rose up just a tad, her orange eyes going wide and eventually glazing over at the question.
"I..." She started to say, but soon she went quiet again, words seemingly escaping her.
Derkeethus waited... and watched... his inner anxiety slowly growing at the female lizard's uncharacteristic nervousness. He fidgeted somewhat, tapping the toes of his boots on the floor and reaching up to rub at his horns.
After a few moments, Talkeeva turned around fully, her sword and shield rustling against the tree trunk as she scooted back and forth, resting her wrists on her knees as she looked right into the other Argonian's eyes.
"Being the Dragonborn is something most people in Skyrim will never understand..." When she finally spoke again, Derkeethus leaned forward in anticipation, nodding again. "How hard it is to carry the fate of the world on your shoulders."
The obviousness of the answer caught the male lizard off-guard, and he paused, then grimaced inwardly as the memories of their travels together swept through his mind, one after another. From what he had seen when Talkeeva had pointed out their path on the map, they'd gone from Darkwater to Windhelm and throughout the northern Eastmarch, and then all the way down to Riften... and that had barely covered the eastern part of the province...
The scope of the adventurer's words started to sink in, and before the Argonian could stop himself, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, words spilling out of his mouth. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Talkeeva turned towards him. Then she paused again, eyeing him with a thoughtful look.
Derkeethus' heart swelled with relief when she finally smiled.
