I got a little stuck on how to deliver this next part. I had the main idea, but I was left without detail, or layout, so I called upon the help of a dear friend, ElfDavis, who suggested something rather remarkable. I instantaneously loved it. You continually amaze me friend. Anyway, if you read the last few lines of the previous chapter, this will add on to that, making the entire story better.
We walked on the large cobble stoned path, heading toward Ivarstead. I couldn't help but stare at the back of Duvaithor's head, waiting. Waiting for the sudden attack he had been waiting to give. Yet it never came. I highly doubted that I was suddenly justified by saving him from a bear. No, there was something else. Something dark. I just didn't know what that obscurity was.
I rubbed my scarred forearms, pondering if I should ask him to heal those wounds as well, but I shook off the feeling. I gazed at a large tower as we continued walking.
"Up here is Valtheim tower, prepare yourself, I sense foes ahead." Duvaithor warned, his eyes narrowing.
Suddenly, an arrow whizzed pass my head. I clutched my shield, unsheathing my silver sword. Bandits. Duvaithor and I charge the bandit woman who was standing watch. With unimaginable speed, she spun, slicing and hacking her iron great-sword toward us. I stumbled as the force of her blow braced my shield. I openly jerked her with my shield, knocking her backward. With the slight distraction, Duvaithor jumped while swinging his dagger. Blood spewed from the bandit's throat, spraying the ground as she twitched. She tried screaming; only managing to make a slight gurgling sound. Rapidly, more of her clan joined in the fight. Two men charged me as Duvaithor assaulted one opponent. While bashing one man with my shield, I sparred with the other. The thug striking my shield crouched, slashing my left calf. I winced as the blade slid through muscles and tendons. I twirled on my right foot, decapitating the standing bandit, then striking the other with the butt of my blade. The bearded man crumpled to the dirt.
Duvaithor had just slayed his third challenger as I walked up to him. He drew his new found sword from one of the fallen bandit's chest. He picked up that same thug's hand, whipping the blood off the long rapier. He let the woman's arm drop once the blade gleamed. I stared at him with shock as he inspected the elven sword. He smiled toothily when he noticed my gaze. He held up his prize.
"Not bad, eh?" he chuckled. I shook my head and smirked. Duvaithor shrugged and entered the tower.
"Where are you going?" I hollered at him. He waved me away.
"It'll only take a moment." I followed him, curious as to what he was up to. I found him kneeling beside a chest, vigilantly picking the lock with his tongue sticking out in concentration.
"You're a down right old fool, Duvaithor." I snickered holding my stomach. He stared at me quizzically.
"Oy! Ha, I can't be much older than you my dear… besides, it's not like they will be in any need of the loot." He said returning to his work. I kneeled beside him, observing. He turned and twisted the pick until it broke. He irritably fished in his pocket for another.
"Try more to the right." I murmur. He sighed deeply.
"Do you mind?"
"Oh, sorry…" I sat and watched him work at the master lock. Without realizing it, I was nearly inches from him. He turned to me. My eyes widen as I felt his warm breath on my cheek. He stared into my eyes, then gazing at my lips.
"You like what you see, yes?" he wiggled his reddish eyebrows foolishly. I clucked my tongue and shoved his face away as I stood. He snickered as he opened the lock, practically getting into the chess with all of the treasure. He giggled like a nord child. I shake my head as the greedy elf examined the rubies and sapphires in the bottom of the chest. A wave of realization hit me. Maybe we weren't so different from them…
I snapped out of my trance and chuckled.
"Calm down, you greedy bastard." His head snapped up. He stuck his tongue out at me and continued digging in the chest.
I got lost in watching him looking at all of his new treasure. He finally stepped out wearing new gauntlets and a circlet of Magicka. He shoved the gems and coins in his belt pouches. With a last glance in the chest he smiled. He plucked the last tiny object up with his long index finger and thumb. Duvaithor looked at me smirking.
"Here my housecarl, for your good health." He sung as he handed me the gold ring with a ruby placed in the center. A health ring… he would say that. I slipped in on my finger, instantaneously feeling a tiny serge of power. I gasped as the shock spread through me.
"The most curious sensation comes from a ring… who would think," I announced as I stroked the metal. As I looked up I found the small tower room vacated. "Duvaithor?" I whispered. I spun around to a warm breeze on the back of my neck. There he stood, half way up the stairs. He stared at my scarred arms. Nothing seeming to destroy his gaze.
"What happened to your arms?" he asked clutching them in his hands. I winced, expecting it to hurt, yet no pain came.
"It's nothing, I merely fell." I said snatching away my arms. He seemed worried.
"I can heal them right up, if you'd like." He said reaching for them again.
"No!" I hissed, slapping his hands away. "They will make nice scars," I lied. His lip puffed out slightly, but then he shook it off.
He turned slightly, climbing another step, muttering something about how weird women were with accepting help.
The dark elf turned then and held out his hand, his long slender fingers slightly curved inward.
"Shall we check upstairs?" he smiled humbly, his eyes glowing whiter than before. My heart lifted up as I began reaching for his smooth palm, smiling myself.
This is only a con Lydia… I slapped his hand away and continued up the stairs, cursing myself as I climbed. I saw him frown deeply, his forehead creasing, as he examined his now stinging hand. The feeling of self-loathing surfaced in my chest as I searched through shelves and barrels. I ignored the fact Duvaithor had climbed the stairs, and was no doubly starring right at me, wondering what the hell had gotten into me. Then again, I shouldn't care. I knew nothing about the damned elf, nor did I want to. For all I knew he could still be planning to murder me and take all I had. Or just simply up and mug me. Or perhaps worse. Would he rape me?
I glanced uneasily at him from the corner of my eye. He was picking nirnroot from a knapsack. He placed the glowing, ringing plant into his bag, with some other plants he had been collecting for alchemic purposes. I exhaled slowly. How was I to keep being his housecarl if I didn't even trust him?
I risked another glimpse of him, this time I was caught red handed. He sighed heavily and glared at me, sitting straight up. His arched eyebrows scrunched together.
"What?" he asked firmly. I shot my head back down to the ruined books I was holding, hoping beyond hope I could still get away without being detected. No such luck. "Well? Spit it out, what's the matter?" he crossed his arms irritably, destroying the nightshade flower in his hand. I shrugged deeply, not knowing how to say what I truly thought without seeming rude.
"Well, it's just…" I began.
"It's just what, exactly." He hissed, already offended. I took a deep breath. If he wanted honesty, I'd give him honesty.
"It's just that I feel like you only asked me to follow you around so you could slaughter me, eat me, mug me, throw me to wolves, or well, something that may or may not fall under the categories of sexual assault…" I glanced at him innocently. His face was incomprehensible. Either he was highly amused or going to throw up or somewhere in between. "And..."
"And? There's an and?" he whispered almost mutely. His eyes were more veiled than the rest of him. I bit my lip tentatively. Dare I go on?
"And… you just make me feel like I should always watch my back with you around…" I held my breath as that sunk in. dead silence oozed into the night.
Half an hour passed of his inaudibility and my failure to move. Our eyes never parted as we remained as stone. Would this ever end? Or would new bandits come and find us dead in this position, frozen forever, not from the bitter cold of Skyrim, but merely from the other's gaze.
Finally, Duvaithor's lips parted, the grey skin seeming to lighten.
"I hadn't realized I was giving off the 'murderer/cannibal/thief/psycho/rapist' vibe. But I will be sure to only seem as the psychotic part for the remainder of our journey." He snickered indefinitely. I let out a small huff of old air, thankful he hadn't been scorned from the harsh words too badly. He seemed to apprehend my puff and nodded, returning to his looting. I wobbled my head and opened another unreadable book.
You are a complete idiot Lydia…
I rose and wondered around the room, mainly listening to the creak of the old floor. I looked through a doorway leading out onto a bridge crossing over the large river heading to another tower. I smiled softly.
"Oy elf, there's another tower up ahead." To my words, Duvaithor bolted up excitedly. He laughed eagerly. I had begun walking. I held my head high, not daring to look down as I continued to cross the bridge. I could hear Duvaithor practically skipping behind me. I smiled delicately, nearly forgetting my deep dark fear of plummeting into the wild river far below.
I breathed in deeply, slightly turning my head to see him. I wanted to see him happy, not sarcastic joy. There was a huge colossal difference. I caught sight of him in mid skip, the bright sun enveloping him. I smiled at the sight, it seemed like he was flying. Half of me wanted to turn completely, and the other half wanted to turn back around and continue to the next tower. My two sides were so indecisive that my feet tangled together, causing me to trip, nearly sending me over the edge. My heart stopped as I caught sight of the water roaring under us. I steadied myself, wishing Duvaithor hadn't seen that. He stopped skipping long enough to make sure I was secured, and then continued with his prance. I exhaled deeply, keeping my head down, focusing on my feet. We were half way across the long stone bridge by now. As I continued to watch my path, a sudden roar of terror filled my ears behind me. Duvaithor was screaming for his bloody life. No, not his, mine.
"Lydia! LOOK OUT!" Duvaithor screamed. I glimpsed a single bowman on the top of the new tower as he aimed his longbow at me. Duvaithor was sprinting for me, but he was too far behind. The rogue let loose an arrow, and there was nowhere to hide. I jerked to the side as the arrow came closer. The arrow head skimmed the skin of my arm. I twirled miss stepping, twisting my ankle, and begun falling. I screamed as I thrashed through the air. I was going to die from impacting the water to hard. I saw the bowman falling as well, black smoke where he used to be. Duvaithor had killed him with a fireball. At least he avenged my death. I tried looking for him as I knew I would hit the water soon. Yet I knew it, my screams didn't stop. My eyes squinted though.
"The Hell?" I whispered inaudibly. Duvaithor was suddenly coming to me. He had dived and was now picking up speed. Duvaithor had jumped for me? I was just a housecarl to him. He had left all that treasure, just to save me. He was now diving head first, slicing right through the air. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me on top of him. I dug my nails into his chest as he quickly flared his hands, casting a spell that encased himself and I. A blue glowing light covered my skin.
The impact was painful, but strangely not overwhelming. I was still in Duvaithor's arms as we raced to the surface for air. Swiftly, we reached the bank and rested in the muddy grass. I gasped and heaved as he heaved and gasped. I looked at him as he stared up at the sky catching his breath, his red-orange hair no longer in a neat high pony tail, but now sticking to his face.
Why had he done that?
So why DID he do it? Haha, well I hope everyone enjoyed it, please R&R and keep with me! There is a lot more to come!