Queen Takes Pawn

Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls Franchise is the intellectual and legal property of Bethseda Softworks. No copyright infringement is intended, nor is any profit made.

A/N: It wasn't my intention to take quite so long with this third chapter; I had the first draft written in a matter of days, but the revision process took longer than I had anticipated. I wish to express heartfelt thanks for everyone who has taken the time out of their day to read my little contribution to the Elder Scrolls fandom. For those who have opted to follow my story, I hope that I have not and will not disappoint you. For those who have taken the time to leave a review, you have both my aforementioned heartfelt thanks, and sincere gratitude!

Teldryn was Dovrasi's constant shadow; he was never more than five feet away as she made her way methodically around the market place. She began first at the alchemist, continued in a clockwise circuit, finally culminating her perusal of the wares offered for sale at the general goods. More importantly, and frankly concerning, was how quickly she had become so attuned to his presence; it was frightening to realize she could close her eyes and pinpoint his location with unnerving accuracy. It didn't help that she knew in intimate detail what that handsome face looked like underneath the Chitin helm. Her hormones were fickle, traitorous things that were bound and determined to pave their way to Oblivion and drag the rest of her with them. Even her brain, usually practical, sensible and reliable when everything else turned to absolute piss, failed her spectacularly. It insisted on bringing to the forefront of her mind scenes from their past; their first meeting, their first kiss, and the wonderful times they had spent together.

With a resolve garnered from Tiber Septim himself, she girded her loins and shoved her baser urges and impulses back into the furthest recesses of her mind where they wouldn't see the light of day any time soon.

Distracted by her own thoughts, and very aware of just who was causing her such discomfort, she was only barely paying attention as Fethis was asking her something. "Mmh," she hummed in agreement, hoping that the merchant hadn't noticed she'd only been half listening.

"Oh that's fantastic," Fethis enthused. "I realize it's asking quite a bit, but I'll pay well for each one you find."

Dovrasi blinked at Fethis who had gone back to tending to the leather stretched out on his tanning rack. "Teldryn," she hissed in an undertone. "What did I just agree to?"

Teldryn's reply was distinctly amused. "For Fethis? To collect some pendants."

She waited a moment as she considered the implications of the strange emphasis he had placed on the general merchant's name before grinding the heel of her palm into her forehead. Teldryn chuckled softly as he ticked off the other favors she'd agreed to while she'd been…er…distracted.. "For Milore, you've agreed to fetch her Netch Jellies. Five should do it, she said. For Glover, there's a pickaxe he'd like back from Crescius, and to seek out a Folio for Cindri. Seems you still have trouble saying no after all these years."

"I," she sighed gustily, "am an idiot and I am leaving before someone asks me to stop an assassination plot, because they think I don't have enough to do already."

True to her word, she intentionally pointed herself at the exit of the settlement and proceeded to take long, deliberate strides away from the market while making a point to avoid eye contact with anyone she may have passed. Annoyance at falling so easily into her old patterns showed in her gait, but had the surprising side effect of pushing out her distraction over Teldryn from the forefront of her mind. She was absurdly grateful for that, come to think of it.

"So why don't you just say no?" Teldryn fell into step beside her as he caught up. "You would have every right."

"Oh I don't know," she huffed in frustration at herself. "I guess…well they can't go get it themselves, can they? They'd get killed with what's out there. And it's not like it'll cost me anything if I happen to come across what it is they're…what in the name of all the planes in Oblivion are those?!"

At the bottom of the hill a group of lurching, hulking bohemoths had set upon two of the Redoran Guard who patrolled around Raven Rock. The two were fighting bravely against their enemies, but it was clear to see that they were outnumbered, outmuscled, and outmatched. Both Dovrasi and Teldryn broke into a run in an attempt to assist them.

"I've heard the guard talking about ash spawn!" Teldryn shouted grimly as Dovrasi aimed her bow at one of the monsters. She managed to fire off three shots before he finished casting the spell that would summon his flame atronach. "I'm guessing that's what they were referring to!"

One of the guards went down among the blows of the ash spawn, and Dovrasi knew that he was dead. Instead of taking the time to mourn him, she and Teldryn focused on getting to the side of the Guard who was still alive. The ash spawn were as difficult to defeat as their first instant impression had lead them to believe. Between Teldryn's magic, the Guard's sword work, and Dovrasi's bow they managed to defeat the rest of the group before anyone else was struck down.

"Sero," the survivor said, sheathing his weapon. He acknowledged Dovrasi with a nod of his head.

"Captain Veleth," Teldryn greeted as Dovrasi knelt by the ash piles.

"New employer?" the Captain indicated Dovrasi who was currently shifting through the ash with her fingers. "Handles herself well."

That she handled herself well had been something Teldryn noted with surprise. There hadn't been a hitch while she'd been drawing her bow, even running as quickly as she had been. Each arrow had found its target with unnerving accuracy. When he had asked her to employ him, it had been done with the expectation that he would be serving in a bodyguard role with the brunt of the fighting falling towards him. This competence- or even the level of synchronization of their fighting styles - this small battle had hinted at had been unexpected.

"Seems like these attacks have been increasing," Teldryn remarked instead of replying to Veleth's comment.

"They have been," Veleth admitted, running a hand over his weary face. "And strangely enough, they seem to be organizing. They're attacking my men constantly. If this assault keeps up…" he trailed off, almost as if he were afraid to give voice to the possible outcome of what he was suggesting.

"Captain," Dovrasi approached, a piece of dirtied, ash-stained parchment held gingerly in her fingers. "I found this on the…er…in the—", she floundered before giving up and simply pointed to one of the ash piles. Captain Veleth's brow furrowed as he took the proffered note to begin reading it.

"Well, this complicates matters," he murmured before carefully folding the note and tucking it into his armor. "A declaration of war on Raven Rock by General Falx Carius. Who happens to have died 200 years ago when Red Mountain leveled Fort Frostmoth."

"Seems to be a common theme around here," Dovrasi muttered sourly. The Captain ignored her.

"There's no way he could still be alive. If he is still alive, there's something keeping him that way, " Veleth said, still mostly addressing Teldryn. "Is there any way I could have you head to Fort Frostmoth to assess the situation for me? I don't really have the men to spare and I am loathe to leave Raven Rock behind."

"I've already been contracted," Teldryn shrugged his shoulder apologetically as he gestured to Dovrasi; she was starting to develop that same pinched look on her face she had worn when she was younger. He remembered seeing it mostly when she knew her Da was preparing to ask her to perform a particularly distasteful chore. She stood there with her arms crossed, and a near palpable resentment that would have been funny if it weren't so…not.

"Lass," Veleth began.

"Don't call me lass," she said flatly. "The last guy who called me lass didn't get what he wanted either."

"I realize you came to Solstheim to take care of your own business," Veleth changed tactics. Teldryn watched on in curiosity as the Captain attempted diplomacy. "But the ash spawn attacks are a serious threat to the security of Raven Rock. You would be doing the citizenry a great service by investigating this lead."

There was a moment of almost eerie calm…right before Dovrasi exploded into a litany of the vilest, horrific brand of invective Teldryn had ever heard. She began by questioning Miraak's paternity, listed the precise and detailed activities the ash spawn were entitled to, and then swore at someone named Alduin in an excruciating, attentive, intimate bullet point list as she went into his probable sexual habits and perversions. She ended by sighing gustily, pinching the bridge of her nose with a dark scowl set firmly on her face and a muttered "Boethiah's tits, I do not have time for this shit."

Both men gave her a minute. She seemed to need it.

"On a scale of one to ten," she began after taking several deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, "how dire is this ash spawn situation?"

Veleth gave the question the appropriate amount of thought before answer. "I'd say at least an eight. If not pushing a nine."

There was another loud inhale-exhale as Dovrasi considered this. "If I agree to do this," she finally said, though her tone wasn't even; there was an undercurrent of crazy lying in wait underneath the surface. "I need you to promise me you'll interfere with the work going on at the Earth Stone."

"Interfere?"

"Stall." She clarified, removing her fingers from the bridge of her nose and opening her eyes. "Without making it seem like you're stalling. If he knows what you're doing, he'll retaliate."

"Him?"

"MIraak." Dovrasi placed a hand on Veleth's shoulder as his brow furrowed as he tried to place where he'd heard that name before. "He's a worse threat than the Ash Spawn, though not quite as immediate. I think. Do this for me, and he'll hold."

"I can manage that." Veleth said, and the lack of hesitation in his tone had Dovrasi mostly forgiving him for saddling her with another responsibility. She nodded once before stalking off without another word. Teldryn followed closely behind.

Teldryn was silent as Dovrasi took the lead. She kept them on track by frequently consulting her map, comparing their position to that of the sun then, if it were necessary, adjusted their course accordingly. When the sky was overcast with both snow and the falling ash from Red Mountain, leaving the sun invisible, she would pull out a small clear stone and peered through it until she located it. She was astoundingly competent at this whole adventuring business; she'd surprised him thrice over with that same efficiency and knowledge of what she was doing. The ash spawn attack and the navigational ability aside, what had really cemented his admiration was how neatly she'd managed to avoid getting them both tangled into a battle between a pyromancer and an ice wizard.

It had been she who had heard them first; little surprise since the only thing she wore on her head was a jeweled circlet she said helped with her archery and he sported a full facial helmet. She stopped and gestured for him to duck behind a nearby cove of trees just before they were discovered by a couple of wizards engaged in a battle. His first instinct had been to fight, especially considering that they were no more than 20 or so feet away from their flimsy hiding spot. But she had remained still, keeping her eyes and her ears on the battle in front of them.

"Let's allow them to kill each other off," she had whispered, staying his hand as they watched the battle play out from behind their cover. "There's no telling what we're going to encounter in Frostmoth and we may need to be cautious of our supplies."

It had been a valid point, one he couldn't simply dismiss. So he'd cancelled his summoning spell as he crawled after her as she had crept away from the two mages. When it became obvious that they would not be followed, and more than likely hadn't been noticed, they both released the breath they had been holding. The rest of the way to Fort Frostmoth was uneventful and in a matter of two hours, they could see the crumbling stone walls of the once proud towers come into view. Dovrasi, as was becoming apparent, favored a cautious approach. She broke into a sprint toward an outcropping of rocks close to the walls, dropping into a crouch as soon as she spotted a sentinel on the top of one of the remaining towers. She peered over the rocks to get a better look, and Teldryn did the same.

"Three," she whispered.

"I only see two."

"You're missing the one by the water's edge. He blends in."

Teldryn squinted and looked again. She was right; he had missed the sentry by the docks.

"I'll take the one up there," she jerked her thumb upward. "If my luck holds, I'll be able to take him in one shot. If I do, take the one by the docks, and I'll concentrate my fire on the guy on the right."

She didn't even wait for him to express either approval or disapproval of her plan. She simply adjusted her position, eyed her target, drew her bow, and fired. There was no choice but to adhere to the simple plan she had outlined not even a full minute prior.

His last patron had known nothing of the art of subtlety or strategy. Tyr War-Monger had been a Nord's Nord; he'd lived for and thrived in the heat of battle. There had never been any plan more complicated than the old hit-them-before-they-hit-you strategy. It was Tyr's relentless pursuit of honor and glory (Not to mention a one way ticket to Sovngarde) that had eventually forced Teldryn to break off his arrangement with his employer. It was nice to finally work with someone who thought less about the fight, and rather focused on what it was that they were fighting for.

It was surprising that he was enjoying this synchronization with a girl who had once refused to leave so much the Gray Quarter without her father's say-so. When he'd offered to put himself under her employ in the Retching Netch, it had been that girl-grin of hers that had prompted his sudden and unexpected proposal. That grin had brought out the same waif who'd needed protection from the Nords' racism and bullying; who had run to him when her brother's teasing became too much; who had believed that all it took to fix a person's day was a sunny smile and a word of encouragement.

He'd idolized her in her youth, he was starting to realize. He had set her upon a pedestal made of her innocence and purity.

In the intervening years since he had last saw her, someone had knocked that halo she had worn like a crown right off of her pretty little head and had tarnished most of the glitter right off of it. She had gone from this epitome of an ideal to an equal.

An equal would not be heart-breakingly out of reach.

As she had hoped, a single arrow, along with precise aim, dropped the sentry on the tower before either of the spawn guarding the towers on the ground were none the wiser. As planned, he took the one on the left as Dovrasi smoothly switched her aim from the high point on the tower to the ash spawn on the right. Both were dispatched with an ease that had them both on edge; Dovrasi was straining to tell if any sounds of the fight had reached any of their compatriots inside. As seconds turned into minutes and no one came pouring out of the doors, they approached the fort with caution.

They both regarded the only door either of them could find with a mixture of resignation and caution.

"There's no way it's not a trap," she muttered.

Teldryn hummed his agreement.

"Do you have a detect life spell?"

"That won't work through walls this thick, even if Ash Spawn could be detected with it."

"Shit," she swore inelegantly and Teldryn found he rather agreed with the sentiment. There was a flash of blue and then she was holding a wispy conjured blade. He followed suit by summoning his atronach. He took point and she let him.

There was an immediate call to arms from the waiting regiment- if you can call a gathering of beings held together by ash and magic that- as ash spawn surrounded and outnumbered them the moment they stepped into the fort. For every spawn they managed to reduce into a mere pile, two more seemed to take their place. They weren't intelligent, they were mindless thugs who had been ordered to go after the intruders and that is what they did. The only advantages Dovrasi and Teldryn had were their clearly superior brain power and agility. But even then it was only two against twenty, forty, sixty, and in those kinds of odds superior brain power and agility doesn't stand much chance against raw, brute strength that never tires. Using the last of his magicka supply Teldryn managed to clear a short path to one of the many types of scaffolding that had littered the interior of the fort. Dovrasi caught on to what he was doing so quickly that she may as well have been reading his mind; she had scampered up the wooden platforms so quickly he'd been momentarily reminded of a monkey. Soon enough they were both out of reach of the swarming masses clamoring for their blood below.

"This," Dovrasi grouched, "did not go to plan."

She sounded so put out and offended that Teldryn barked out a short laugh. She sounded as if this were no more an annoyance than someone stealing her sweetroll. "You had a plan?" He chuckled.

"Of course I had a plan. I always have a plan," she sniffed. "This one just turned to shit when I grossly underestimated their available numbers." She rummaged through her pack until she found a blue bottle. She tossed it to Teldryn who drank the draught gratefully.

"Don't cast anything yet," she forewarned. "I only have one more of those, and I need to re-strategize."

"Can you shoot them?"

She gestured to a corner where the last bit of the sun glinted off the black ebony of her bow. It was almost like a wave, saying hi, I miss you. She missed it right back.

"Right then," she said suddenly. "Parameters have changed and we need a new plan. The floor is open to suggestions."

"Can you conjure a bow?"

She shook her head. "No, I never bothered to learn that spell. Didn't seem to be a point."

He sighed. "Neither have I. I wish I knew of a spell that could make them not quite so formidable. They're strong, but they're slow. If it didn't take so much effort, it wouldn't be difficult to defeat them, even with their numbers."

It was Dovrasi's turn to hum in agreement as she eyed the steadily growing mob below them. "That would be nice," she said absently. "Weaken them to a point where a single Shout could…" she trailed off as her spine shot upright. "Teldryn, you're a genius."

"Eh?"

She didn't explain as she wiggled into position. The grin she flashed him this time didn't remind him as a girl; this one brought to mind a dragon- all teeth and ferocious claws.

"KRII LUN AUS!" She bellowed into the throng below; Teldryn could feel a power behind her yell that marked it as no simple battle cry. Exactly one minute after, she adjusted her seat on the scaffolding so she was facing an entirely new group of spawn and yelled it again.

He watched her repeat the process five times, and then ten, always making sure she was aiming at a different area of the room and catching different spawn until his curiosity finally got the better of him and he asked just what exactly was she doing, please?

At this point she was hanging upside down by her knees as she directed her Shouts in the opposite part of the room she had started with. "Shouting," she said, surprised. After all wasn't it obvious what it was that she was doing?

"I get that," Teldryn intoned, hoisting her right side up when she held out her hand for assistance. "I'd like to know what it means."

"Oh," she tried to massage away the headache that had formed from all the blood that had rushed to her head while she had been performing her acrobatics. "Well it doesn't translate well, but a loose interpretation would be Marked for Death."

"Translate?"

She nodded. "From Dovahkzul. The...er, the language of the dragons."

"How did you learn the language of the dragons?"

"I picked it up from the Greybeards?" she hedged, starting to look distinctly uncomfortable.

"The Greybeards? Didn't the Jarl's son study with them?"

"Uh…yeah." She blinked at him.

"You mean your…what is it that the Nords call that shouty thing?"

"The Thu'um?"

"Yes. Why are Nords teaching a Dunmer one of their traditions?"

"Because Akatosh has an odd sense of humor and I'm proof," she sighed. There was a loose stone wedged in the wall over her head and she reached up to wiggle it out. She took a few moments to heft it, testing its weight and then eyed one of the spawn beneath them speculatively. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she considered both the stone and the spawn before she dropped the rock squarely on its head. The rock disappeared into a shower of ash.

"Ha!" she exclaimed, jumping off of her perch to land in the middle of the throng. She feinted left, dodging the blow aimed at her head and retaliated with a blow of her own; the spawn disintegrated in one hit. Teldryn joined her and with an ease that mocked their earlier struggle they cut through their enemies until there was nothing left.

"You…" he began, but stopped himself before continuing. He was remembering the night before in the Retching Netch, and just now how her expression had shuttered closed as he had begun asking her personal questions up there on the scaffolding. He took a deep breath and tried again. "You don't owe me an explanation," he conceded, and was rewarded as that guarded expression she wore slipped a fraction. "But I would like to hear one."

She frowned at him, clearly unhappy with his request. "I really don't want to," she muttered, and he had a feeling that she had directed that mostly toward herself.

It was on the tip of his tongue to retract his request; he even opened up his mouth to say it. But she held up a hand to stop him.

"Let's take care of the Commander," she suggested. "If you still want to know, I'll tell you then. "

They fell into a pattern as they combed through the rest of the fort; she would Shout, he would attack. There was a brief minor moment of panic when they came across a locked door, but by rifling through the disintegrating knapsacks of soldiers long since dead, they were able to find a key that would unlock the door. They also found a fairly recently journal that cleared up the mystery of why a long dead Imperial was suddenly declaring war upon a Dunmer settlement. Dovrasi's lips thinned into a line as she flipped the pages and read about the experiment that had brought Falx Carius back to life.

After the sheer amount of difficulty that it took to get that far to face the Commander, their battle with him was almost anti-climactic. He had his ash spawn, but they had strategy, and in the end it was their teamwork that had triumphed.

"We should burn him," Dovrasi said as she looked down on the Commander's corpse as the ash settled around her. "He deserves an honorable send off. Him, and the remains of that soldier we found in that last room."

"Agreed," Teldryn walked over and hefted the Commander up on his shoulders. Dovrasi went to the skeletal remains of the crushed soldier and gathered them, along with the four letters to his wife, respectfully in her arms. Teldryn returned to help her with the weight, and if she had a tear in her eye, he didn't comment on it.

Building the makeshift pyre was quiet, sober work. Neither said a word as they gathered the wood necessary, and that silence remained until both moons were high in the sky. General Carius was laid carefully in a pose that was reminiscent of sleep, and the skeleton of Maximian Axius was laid out with his four unsent letters surrounding his body. The Gods must have known and approved of their plan; the wood caught fire immediately and soon both remains were embraced by the roaring warmth of flame. It seemed appropriate to watch and stand guard as the long overdue last rites of both of those brave men were honored. They both took a seat and bore witness to the simple ceremony.

Dovrasi was familiar with how Dunmer respected their honored ancestors, and even had a working knowledge of Nordic culture in regards to burial rites. She had a vague notion that Imperials preferred to bury their dead much like the Nords did, but had no worries that they had somehow disrespected the spirits of the two men they had chosen to honor. There was an almost otherworldly sense of contentment and peace that shrouded both her and Teldryn that lead her to believe that the men were happy that they were being honored and remembered, even if it wasn't through a tradition from their culture.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Teldryn spoke up suddenly. He was very quiet, and his eyes did not leave the pyre. "I don't have the right to impose on you if you would rather not share."

She stared at him and Teldryn had the fleeting impression that she was really seeing him for the first time since she had entered the Retching Netch. It occurred to him that maybe he hadn't been the only one who had been looking at the present through the eyes of the past.

"You've got to understand," she spoke slowly, feeling her way through what she wanted to say. "It's difficult to just blurt out – I've kept it low profile for so long and for a lot of good reasons – that I don't want to tell anyone, and when I do tell, it's usually under the heavy weight of obligation."

"I already said –"

"I know what you said," she waved off his disclaimer with an imperious gesture of her hand. "I kind of want to tell you. But I don't know if it's going to change anything. I don't want you to start acting different."

Teldryn snorted. "What kind of secret would make that sort of impact?"

"You'd be surprised," she said sourly.

It was a difficult thing to explain, she began. There were books about Dragonborns of course, detailing their life and their histories. Saint Alessia had been Dragonborn, as had been Reman Cyrodiil. Tiber Septim had been, and purportedly so had been his progeny all the way until Emperor Martin Septim. There was a disconnection between the information in the books and the reality, at least as she understood it, because the books all but ignored the dragon aspect of being theDragonborn.

Dragons had disappeared in the Merethic Era, and they had been gone for so long that their existence had been relegated to mere myth. It left the impression that Dragonborn was nothing but a mere title. The books didn't talk about how innate instinct demanded supplication of the conquered foes who had set themselves against her, or her desire to be recognized and praised for her exploits and heroic deeds. "In hindsight," she sighed, "that desire for recognition was probably the biggest reason I made some of my worst life choices."

She talked about Bleak Falls Barrow and of the Word Wall that had been buried deep in its bowels. There had been an inescapable pull when she had first seen the Barrow escaping from Helgen with Hadvar; the pull had been weak from where they had stood on the road leading to Riverwood, but enough that the place had made an impression on her. When she had been sent to retrieve that stone for the Court Wizard, it had only cemented the idea that her fate was somehow tied into that bleak monstrosity shadowing the small village at its feet. That small tug she had felt from the road became a yank as she fought her way into the depths of Bleak Falls; past the bandits, and the spiders and the draugr that she hadn't been skilled enough to handle but she'd somehow managed to defeat anyway. Through sheer luck and determination to answer that ineluctable call she managed to defeat the Draugr Deathlord and had been shown a glimpse of power. There weren't words in any language that could accurately describe what it felt like; to feel pure concentrated knowledge being absorbed into your very being and to know the rightness of it. It had been the acknowledgement of a birthright she hadn't even known she'd possessed.

It was the same, she continued, with dragon souls. Dragon culture was built upon the foundation of strength and wisdom; might made right, if you will. Killing a dragon and taking their soul, absorbing the sum of their knowledge and strength to add to her own became akin to an addiction. Dragon lairs became her favorite haunts; they were old places, sacred places seeped with both history and power, causing the dragons to flock to them. Addicted to that flood of potent brew of the summation of that dragon's knowledge, she had in turn headed to where the dragons were. Although she had feared and dreaded that final confrontation with Alduin, she couldn't deny the thrill of anticipation in the time that had led up to that fight, or the surge of bitter disappointment when she wasn't able to claim his soul for her own.

She talked so long that the pyre had been reduced to burning cinders and both moons were low in the sky. There was a glow over the horizon that hinted at the sunrise. Teldryn shifted beside her, and even though she was ashamed of her cowardice, she couldn't bring herself to look at him as she stared straight ahead into the dying embers.

"Hero of Legend," he mused. There was that tone of awe and wonder that, given enough time, usually turned into calculating slyness when anyone began to really consider how she could benefit them personally. Teldryn had always been fond of coin and the sudden pang of regret had her sifting through an unpleasant stew of worried anxiety. "That doesn't surprise me like you think it ought to."

"Eh?" She was so startled she turned to face him, slack jawed and wide eyed.

Teldryn shrugged. "I met the Nevarine once," he mentioned casually. "He was old, and I was but a mere boy but it always struck me that no matter how world-weary he was, his heart was always about protecting the people. And this was a trait you shared with him. I thought that back then, and I still think that now. It's why you agreed to help Veleth today, and why you punched that Nord in Windhelm when you were younger."

"I broke my hand doing that," she shook her hand in remembered pain.

"And his nose," Teldryn chuckled. "You were terrified he'd have you arrested because his brother was the Jarl's housecarl."

"I was terrified after I stopped being so mad," she admitted. "From the way he talked I was going to be arrested simply for being a Dunmer outside of the Gray Quarter. Luckily the guards had more sense than he did."

"Would being arrested have stopped you?"

"Well…no. He was so much bigger than that poor girl. Furthermore it was obvious she wasn't interested in what he was offering. And he was a jerk and a bully all around!"

Teldryn's fingers ghosted along the skin of her cheek, startling her out of her reverie. "That's what I mean," he murmured. "I don't think the gods are quite so bad about their business as to arrange a hero who wasn't interested in protecting anyone." He stood to head back into the fort. "I think it's time we get some sleep. Do you want first or second watch?"

Still feeling the texture of his fingers on her cheek, Dovrasi chose the first.