The air in Whiterun tasted like grass, in the best way possible. Perhaps it was because the air in Windhelm was so bitterly cold that all it did was numb one's face, and this was so mild in comparison that one could actually breathe in the fragrances. Strange how that worked, seeing as they hadn't traveled all that far to reach this land of billowing tundra cotton. As the carriage drew near the city walls, Quintus wracked his brain trying to recall if it had been like this when he had traveled to Windhelm seven years ago. It seemed like such a distant memory now.

Quintus looked down at the sleeping girl across the way. She was bundled in the blankets that had been provided in the carriage. This was a far cry from having a travel partner like Nurelion. Sofie had listened to his clumsy story attentively despite his stumbles. She'd gaped and pointed at the hot springs near the volcanic tundra, and the huge mountain towering over everything. Quintus could only smile sadly at the mountain, recalling how many times Fjori had been up and down that thing as the Dragonborn. Perhaps she was up there now. He did cheer up when they hit the plains. There were so many flowers, both he and the girl had been impressed at the variety. Still, she had had a long day, and once they started into the long, flat stretch, she'd passed out. He'd have to wake her soon.

"Need any advice on where to stay?" The voice of the driver jolted him out of his trance. He hadn't said a word since they'd departed, no doubt used to customers ignoring him as he drove.

"Sure, I'll take whatever you can give," he agreed.

"Both the Drunken Huntsman and the Bannered Mare have food, and you'll find them both on your way upwards. City's built on a hill, you see. For beds, though, the Bannered Mare is your only option. It's right in the marketplace. You should be able to send word to your kin from there if you're so inclined. They've also got temples to Kynareth and Arkay. You may want to check out Arcadia's Cauldron in the marketplace as well. She might have some work for you to do to keep you busy."

"And do you know off the top of your head if a woman named Fjori lives here?" he asked hopefully.

The man shrugged as he guided the horses off the main road and towards the stables. "I don't know if she lives here, but I've driven her between here and Windhelm a few times now. You might catch her."

Well, it was something. He leaned over and gently nudged the sleeping child awake as the carriage came to a halt. "We're here. Still some daylight, even."

She blinked sleepily. "Oh, that's good. Are we going to see the city?"

"Of course. Come on, then." He rose, and offered his hand to help her up. Then they grabbed their heavy packs and jumped off the carriage.

When he moved to pay, the driver held up his hand. "Old Wunferth already took care of everything. I wish you both the best. And ask around town. They might know more about this Fjori of yours."

"Thank you, I will." He pulled the pack onto his back and began to ascend the steep slope into the city. It was an impressive sight in the distance, but the people who lived here must be in good shape from climbing up and down! Sofie struggled too as she followed. Between the books and the incline, both were breathing too hard to hold a decent conversation.

"Hail, Imperial!" A guard wearing leather armor adorned with a golden sash startled him in his intense focus to climb. He stood between them and the city gates. "What business have you in the city?"

Divines, please, he couldn't handle being cast out of yet another city... "I-I mean, the girl and I, we seek refuge for the night."

"Ah, then you'll want to head towards old Hulda's place, the Bannered Mare. She'll get you set up. Do you need help finding it?"

Quintus felt the weight of anxiety ease. The guards here were HELPFUL towards outsiders? "No, I should be all right." Then, he tried something else. "Say, I'm also trying to find a woman named Fjori. Do you know if she lives here?"

The guard's helmet covered his entire face, or else Quintus would have seen the way his face lit up. "Thane Fjori? The Dragonborn?"

His heart beat a little faster. He'd somehow gotten it right on the first try! "Yes, her! I know her, and I've been trying to get in contact with her, but she's been hard to find. Is she in town?"

The guard folded his arms. "You understand that I can't just volunteer that information. As much as I'd like to believe you, Imperial, you may not be telling the entire truth, and she values her privacy. You may search for her, but I won't point you in the right direction."

His heart sank once more. "I do understand. Thank you for your help."

Before he could trudge into the city, the guard interrupted. "But if I see her, who should I tell her is looking for her?"

"Quintus. Quintus Navale. Or, if it's easier for you, the alchemist from Windhelm."

"Aye, that will work better. Thane Fjori does have many friends. Helps a lot of people. It wouldn't surprise me if you spoke the truth. I'll keep my eyes open, friend."

What a change! Had he been in Windhelm so long that he'd truly forgotten how civil people could be to foreigners? "Thank you very much, sir. I appreciate it more than you can know." Turning to Sofie, he added "Come on then, Sofie. Let's find this inn."

"Okay." She shifted her pack and followed, waving with a big smile at the guard. He waved back. Maybe things were looking up.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Waiting was the worst. Whenever something bothered Quintus, he always kept himself busy so he wouldn't think about it, and this was no exception. Taking the carriage driver's suggestion, he had visited the alchemist, also an Imperial, in her shop and offered help. She couldn't afford to pay him, but he was happy to simply be in his usual habitat with someone who understood alchemy. All the same, he couldn't stay there doing chores for too long before he felt as if he were stepping on her toes, and despite all his respect for her and her work as a healer, she didn't have the same academic passion he did. Afternoons, therefore, he spent with Sofie, leaving the city walls to find new plants. Some were familiar, and some the child had never seen. He couldn't help but explain what effects they could have, and he quickly realized through his constant impromptu quizzes that the girl was a quick study. Finally, as the sun set, they headed back inside, where he read through Nurelion's notes as an old comfort by the light of the bedside candle. Another day gone, another day without Fjori. If only he could sleep, then the time would go faster! Unfortunately, he wasn't able to get much, lying awake with only the company of his worries.

Sofie did not have a room at the inn. When they'd inquired about lodging, the innkeeper informed them that there was only one open bed. The alchemist was fully prepared to sleep at the table in the room as he had so often done after pulling all-night study sessions in his youth. Indeed, he spent the first night in that way despite Sofie's protests that she was used to sleeping on the ground. The next day, however, there was a strange stroke of luck. Sofie met another girl while sitting out near the Gildergreen, and as children were wont to do, they became fast friends in no time. She dragged Sofie into playing games with the others, much to Quintus's relief (he had no experience caring for children), and when the sun started to set, she offered a place to sleep. The house where this little girl stayed ended up being completely unoccupied by anyone except her, something about being an orphan and being allowed to live on the bottom floor. The neighboring blacksmith corroborated the story, and Quintus really did miss having a bed, so he went along with it.

Three days down, four to go. He had done his calculations carefully, allotting enough gold for lodging and food for a week before needing to move on. There was also the matter of him having only brought the clothes on his back. He had purchased a change of clothes for both him and the girl, so he needed to do the washing each morning to keep with his standards. Despite his best efforts at hygiene, he still missed warm water, soap, a clean shave… That, and everything else about being a drifter was slowly making him crazy. The lack of control drove him to a glass of cheap wine each night as soon as Sofie was gone, one of the few things he could still stomach. Finally, he pledged to Kynareth as he sat alone in his small room that he would pray in the temple the next day, that his pleas would be carried on her winds to Fjori's ear and she would come before he had to give up on her.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"I'm still upset that after all that work, Yngol's Barrow didn't even have a word wall. I mean, they always have word walls when they have a dragon-claw key!" Fjori griped as the city came into view around the bend. "Three days wasted, going out of our way. And so close to Windhelm! It nearly killed me to skip right over it!"

"Normally, I'd say you are being overly dramatic, but for once I agree with you. Well, for everything except that last part," Lydia sighed as she rested her elbows on her knees. "I mean, if you want to be optimistic as you so often are, the chance to meet the ghost of Yngol himself was certainly something. And he had a nice helmet."

"True, but I felt bad for disturbing the guy without a good reason. Poor Yngol never even made it back across the Sea of Ghosts, and then his shade goes and gets beaten down by the Dragonborn…" Fjori echoed Lydia's sigh. "Back to the drawing board I guess, just a few days later than originally planned."

"I thought you liked distractions?"

The young woman shook her head with a frown. "Not when they are keeping me from the one thing I want. Before, you're right, I would have leapt at the chance to put off dealing with Alduin. Now…I just want, well…"

"A certain earnest alchemist who doubles as a good cuddler?"

Fjori would have protested that, but far better Lydia suspect only that than what had actually happened between her and Quintus. "Yeah. I think about him all the time. Even now, I'm looking at that man picking flowers along the road and thinking he looks just like Quintus. I mean, what the heck is up with that?"

The man heard his name carried on Kynareth's wind even as he was bent over pulling up stalks of lavender. When he looked up from the task at hand, he saw a familiar sight that nearly made him cry. "Fjori?!" All the flowers he'd gathered tumbled to the ground.

Both women in the cart did a double-take, jaws dropping in shock as they realized Fjori hadn't been seeing things at all despite how out of place he was. "Quintus?!" To her dismay, the cart continued to roll on by, its driver ignorant to this revelation. Quintus was having none of it and began to chase after it, though she noticed he had a bit of a limp that kept him from full speed. "Driver, stop the carriage!" she shrilled, jumping over the side before he could even react to her demand. The resulting collision as Quintus ran into her full suit of armor would be enough to give him new bruises over the top of his old ones, but none of that mattered at the moment. He threw his arms around her and held her so tightly that even with her armor she could sense a highly abnormal level of urgency. It was all she could do to squeeze him back without further injuring him.

"I don't understand… I mean, hell, I'm so, so glad to see you, but how did you…" She had to fairly pry him off so she could look to him for an answer, only to realize with a sinking feeling that not only was he exhausted, eyes ringed with dark circles as she had seen once before when Nurelion's illness had been wearing at him, but he was completely unkempt. That was a first. He was starting to sport whiskers in places beyond his sideburns, which were no longer trimmed. His clothes were wrinkled. He didn't smell like flowers or berries or much of anything when she held him. And gods did he look pale in a sickly sort of way! He was like a shadow of his normal self! The worst part was that she could detect the start of tears welling up in his eyes as he began to tremble.

"Ah ha, I see you found the fellow I was mentioning earlier, the one that was looking for you?" the carriage driver hollered. He had stopped a few yards further down the road once he'd heard Fjori's order, and now Lydia was exiting the cart to head in their direction. She looked just as baffled as Fjori felt at this development.

"Please, I need to speak to you alone," he begged quietly. "No offense to Lydia, but I just can't. Not now. Not like this."

She nodded, then turned to her housecarl. "Lydia, go with the carriage to the city gates and pay the man. You should then head home and check on Lucia. We'll be along later."

Lydia halted in her tracks. Her deep frown signaled unhappiness with this order. "Is he all right?"

Quintus forced himself to peer around Fjori and address her companion. "I'm fine now. I'll tell you later, I promise." The brave face he attempted to put on was betrayed by the quiver in his voice.

"Fine, fine," Lydia grumbled, accepting this as a consolation and heading back for the carriage. Neither Fjori nor Quintus spoke a word until it began to move once more.

"We should…not talk right next to the road." Before she could ask any questions, he was already heading towards the rocky outcroppings that surrounded the city. She questioned how he was going to scale the rough terrain given what appeared to be his weakened condition, but she hurried towards him just as he paused to find a footing to cross the stream that separated Whiterun from the main road.

"Here, let me help you," she offered, voice laced with concern. When she grasped his arm, however, he winced and gave a small grunt of pain. This also tipped him off balance. Her quick arms were the only thing that kept him from landing face-first in the water as they scooped him up. "You're hurt!"

"Just a few bruises, mostly healed," he protested weakly as a blush spread across his face. "You don't have to carry me around…"

She gently set him on a low ledge, then climbed up beside him, already unlacing her gauntlets. "It's not just that. It looks like you haven't been eating or sleeping. Quintus, how did you end up out here?! I can't imagine you'd just take off and leave the store…" The gauntlets fell to the side with a dull clank that seemingly matched his brittle laugh.

"Would you believe…I got kicked out of Windhelm?"

Fjori stared. "You? Kicked out? How the hell did you manage that? You're like the last person on Mundus I'd peg as a trouble-maker!"

Quintus studied his hands as they fidgeted anxiously. "I said 'no' to the wrong person."

"I think you need to start from the very beginning." She tried desperately to meet his gaze, but he never looked up.

"Well, it started right after you left. I got a letter. Ulfric wanted poisons for the war effort. He gave me orders to fill, but…my alchemy isn't supposed to be used for that. When I told him I would only work on healing potions, he told me I wasn't fully loyal and would have to leave." The words Quintus had been storing up since everything had gone down began to bubble out, finally having an outlet for the first time in a week. With each sentence, they grew increasingly desperate. "I was terrified he was going to kill me! It would have taken one word, and he could have blasted me apart! Instead, I had one night to pack what I could carry, and he would seize the rest, including the store. They grabbed me really hard, threw me down some stairs, and hit me with some ice balls, which is why I flinched earlier. It still hurts a bit." If he had risked a look at Fjori, he would have seen a dangerous glint in her eyes, the kind of silent fury he'd seen once before when she'd driven her axe into Calixto Corrium. As it was, he was too distraught to notice.

"I didn't know what to do. Of course I thought about going back to Cyrodiil where I belong, but…I couldn't just leave you! Not after everything we've been through, not after what we did the morning you left! But I didn't know how to find you. I didn't know if I'd have to go, if the money ran out, if you'd never know where I went. I was so scared, Fjori! I was so confused, and I have been ever since you left last time. I don't know what's going on!" Up until this point, Quintus had done a decent job of controlling his emotions. She had yet to see him cry, even if she'd seen the after-effects. That was gone. He buried his face in his hands to try and hide it as he broke down. "What's…going to happen…now?" he choked out the words between sobs.

Just as quickly as the fury had manifested, it vanished, replaced with dismay. Fjori's first instinct was to wrap him in an embrace, but as she reached out, she recalled that her armor was not going to be the most comforting. Clumsily she ripped open the fastenings. "Quintus, it's okay, I'm here now! We'll figure this out, I promise! You don't have to go back to Cyrodiil, I'll take care of you! And as soon as Alduin is dead, I'll murder Ulfric so you can get your store back, and…" She paused her rambling to pull the chest plate off, letting it fall next to the gauntlets. "We'll stay together. It will all be okay." Powerful arms pulled him close, allowing her to feel every shudder that wracked his body. He winced again, reminding her of his injuries, and she immediately eased up a bit.

"You literally have…the weight of the world…on your shoulders…" he gave a muffled protest as the tears continued to flow, now blotted by her tunic. "I can't be…a burden to you! You probably…can't afford…to keep me…and I wouldn't want you to."

"My house is yours. You will stay there. I hunt quite a bit, and you're a good cook. With just a bit of money for vegetables, you'll do fine. I know people here. They might have odd jobs for you, especially Arcadia."

"We've met," he mentioned abruptly.

She smiled as she began to rock him. "Good. She's a great woman, isn't she?"

"She's been…very kind to me," he agreed softly with a sniffle.

"It will all work out. I know none of it will be easy, I'm not trying to pretend it will be. You are a supremely gifted man, and this whole thing must be beyond frustrating. You also like control, and I think you've not been able to take care of yourself because this whole ordeal is eating at you. It hurts me to see you in such a condition, Quintus. Please, now that you know you will have a home, start eating more? And, relax so you can sleep at night?"

"Not until we talk about the morning you left!"

That surprised her, seeming completely unrelated to the problem at hand. She pulled away so she could study his tear-stained face. "Why? Was something wrong? I thought you enjoyed it!"

"Not wrong but…new. And you were gone before I could even sort things out. I mean…" He shifted uncomfortably, his next words barely coming out as a whisper. "I lost my virginity."

Fjori blinked. "But we didn't actually do anything!"

His head snapped up in disbelief. "You think that didn't count?!"

"I…no?" Her stomach began to twist into knots. This was the first time she had a working relationship and she had already botched it.

"You were the first person to… I mean, you were the first person I saw… By Akatosh, Fjori, I'm not the same after that, and neither are we!" If he had been starting to calm down, that all went out the window with his fresh wave of tears. "I've never done anything so intimate with anyone. I wanted so badly for you to lay with me when it was all over and tell me it was good. I wanted you to hold me, kiss me, make me feel like it meant as much to you as it did to me. But you left, Fjori, and I had to try and figure it out by myself."

"Shit, Quintus, I didn't know…" Helplessly, she gathered him in her arms again the way he'd wished back then, afraid to touch him where it would hurt but frustrated at not being able to fully convey her regret. "All I could think about was not getting caught, which was my fault because I insisted on trying to squeeze it in with the limited time we had. Honest, if I had realized you were feeling that way, I wouldn't have walked out on you…"

"Was it not a big deal to you?" he demanded without ever raising his head from her chest. She could feel him brace himself for the worst.

"If you want the honest truth," she rasped, fighting back her own tears, "you holding my hand was the big deal for me, not our frolic the morning after. We had all the time we needed to sort out my conflicted feelings about that, but then I didn't give you the same when you hit your big turning point. I'm so broken, Quintus. It didn't occur to me that the physical stuff could be more, mean more, than just gratification. It never has before. Please don't think I didn't care. I just…didn't understand. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. I would never knowingly hurt you, you have to believe me!" Panicked now, she tilted his chin up and began pressing several kisses to his forehead, as if they could somehow make this better.

Her heart nearly shattered when he pulled away. He roughly wiped his eyes. "Don't do this to try and make up for it, you're just going through motions. It's probably my own fault for being needy anyhow. Why would you want a kept man who needs constant validation?"

"Needy? I'm the needy one. I need you to stay!" Finally, a tear of her own slid down her cheek. "I may be stupid, but I understand that I'm the only reason you have not to return to Cyrodiil. But I can't bear the thought of you leaving, Quintus Navale." She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold back too many emotions. He had to deal with enough of his own right now. "I beg you, please don't go because I've screwed up! I meant it with everything in me when I told you I loved you." At last she fell silent, shoulders slumped in defeat. The only thing left for her was his verdict.

"Someday, when all of this calms down, I want you to tell me everything that went through your head that morning, everything you felt. But today none of it would come out right. You and I, we're both messes, aren't we?" He gave a tiny, fragile chuckle as he reached out to brush her tear away. She looked up at him with a wide-eyed gaze, automatically reciprocating the gesture. "Today, we should go home. I'm tired, and I think it would do me good."

"You'll stay?" The implication wasn't good enough. She had to hear it clearly.

"I'll stay."

In contrast to her prior kisses, the one she delivered to his mouth after those words held everything she carried within her. There was no lust, her hands didn't move from their spots on either side of his scruffy cheeks, her tongue didn't ravage, but it was all gratitude and joy and relief. It was still enough to leave him dizzy. With a contented sigh, he poured all of his best into it as well, lest she not realize how much it meant to him that she would not abandon him even at his lowest.

When they finally broke the kiss, she rested her forehead against his, panting. "It kills me thinking that you probably walked past my house countless times in the last few days when you could have made yourself at home."

"I probably did. People love you here, though. They didn't want any random guy trying to hunt you down, so they wouldn't tell me where you lived."

"Modest little place right next to the blacksmith."

Quintus gaped, separating himself from her. "You mean the one with that little orphan girl living downstairs?"

"Yeah, that'd be the one."

"You never told me you adopted!"

"It never came up?" She shrugged with a sheepish smile. "Besides, I didn't really adopt her. I'm way too young to be a mom. I just offered her a place to stay so she wasn't sleeping outside, and make sure she has plenty to eat so she doesn't go hungry."

"My orphan girl has been staying with your orphan girl!"

"Wait, you have an orphan girl too?!"

"It's a long story. I'll save it for Lydia though. I just wanted…to get the touchy things out of the way, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Fjori began to rummage around in her pack. "I'm sure you haven't had the resources to craft yourself any healing potions, so use this. I don't like how you're limping around, and I know you don't want me carrying you bridal-style through the streets of Whiterun." She pulled out the White Phial and offered it to the one who repaired it. "It only seems fitting."

Quintus accepted the bottle with a sad smile. A relic from a past life, one he may never live again. There was no dwelling in the past though. Fjori was offering him a future, even if it was in a land surrounded by strangers. All he knew was that wherever Fjori was, that was his home now. Perhaps someday he would regret it, but right now, unsettling as it was, he needed to be with her more than he needed his independence.

"To Whiterun, then." He tipped the bottle in a mock toast, then downed the contents. It only took seconds before he could feel the sites of his bruises tingle from the regeneration. "Hmm, I make these potions all the time, but I rarely ever need them for myself. I'm glad to know the potion you drink from the Phial doesn't taste too horrible. Kind of like a hearty stew. Wheat and blisterwort, I think?" He held out the Phial to its current owner.

She laughed as she reclaimed it and tucked it away. "I don't usually think about it." Then, she began to get suited up in her armor once more. "Feel better?"

With her busy donning her chest plate, he got to his feet without any help. It hadn't been this easy in days. "Much. I think I could even go for a nice dinner tonight."

"Good." Now ready, she shyly extended her hand. She had forgone the gauntlets, leaving them sticking out of her pack and keeping her hands exposed. Her eyes were blue today, and they asked what she couldn't bear to say out loud. Someday, he swore, he'd get her to accept the validity of asking for affection. Today, he'd offer it with only her subtle hints. With a reassuring smile, he intertwined his fingers with hers. Hand in hand they walked into the city, ready to start a new chapter.