Back again! Super excited for this next chapter… "The Beauty of Darkness" is a stepping stone towards getting to know a BIT more about the Dragonborn I have created. It won't be a whole lot, but a little is helpful. I hope this answers some questions people have asked me.

I stared. Merely stared at the Mer I thought I had figured out. Honestly him having no background would have suited him better. Made him bright shiny and new, but now the rumors were right. This Dunmer was telling the truth. He was the Dragonborn. Now what that truly was, that I had no clue. All that I knew was that the songs I would hear in the inns were true and not meant to make the imagination of small children soar like we had once believed. Damned bards, them and their stories…

I slowly stood, making my way to him. "D-Dragonborn…" I breathed, trying to calm down from the fight I had basically sat out on. Duvaithor looked away from the large mass of bones that remained and towards me. My feet carried me to him, too close for my comfort to be honest. Duvaithor didn't step away though, only staring down at me, into my brown eyes. What was he thinking… was he even thinking? I sure wasn't.

My lips connected to his lower one before I could take it back. The Princes themselves must have possessed me. That was it. I stood there awkwardly as I strained to reach even his bottom lip. The elf was too goddamn tall! I slowly rose onto my tiptoes in an effort to kiss him properly.

To my horror and surprise, he leaned down to push his lips further into mine, knocking my heels back to the ground. WHAT. IN. OBLIVION. I should slap the living shit out of him! Yet… I didn't move away. What did he taste like, honey? Lavender, maybe? Something sweet but not bitter. Something I wouldn't have expected.

Our eyes were not closed. They just stared in shock at the other. That's what he was thinking, the same as me. Why the Hell were we kissing? Curiosity? Yes. Perhaps a little. Love? NO. Definitely not love. Never love. I hated him and he hated me. That was the way it was. Relief? Yes… relief was it. We had lived against something only in fables. A dragon. And yet the bloody beast lay in ruins at our feet. Its very soul had been devoured by my thane-with my help of course.

Our lips lingered for a few moments longer than either of us meant for. Did I taste good? Wait, what? Why would I care? It wasn't like I would ever let him kiss me again. I was using him! Yes! A tease! Why would some filthy elf get to be with a true daughter of Skyrim!? Even… the… well the Dragonborn.

I sighed softly through my nose, slowly pulling away, looking away from him. I moistened my lips, tasting his essence against my tongue as I licked them. I could feel those testing eyes on me. But what did they hold? Were they murderous or disgusted with me? Oh I was so stupid. He was going to send me home. I was sure of it. You had one job Lydia, and you fucked it up by kissing the damned greyskin.

Duvaithor cleared his throat, meant to catch my attention, but I didn't face him, or couldn't. I simply stared at the dragon, or what was the dragon. I didn't want to get slapped or spit at. What would my uncle say? Oh perfect. Papa was rolling over in his grave, I just knew it. I sighed heavily as Duvaithor repeated his action. He wasn't going to give up, he was stubborn as fuck, and I'd give him that. Could he not? I was busy pouting about being disowned by a dead family for doing something I really didn't even want to do. It was in the heat of the moment! Er, the heat of the aftermath! Gods! Why couldn't they understand? I know they are dead, but still they could be a bit more considerate. Sweet Talos, I was going mad. I was Sheogorath's sweet little darling as I stood there grumbling with the eyes of the Dragonborn on me, expecting me to give him the courtesy of an explanation. One I didn't have.

I pivoted to face him. I was struck with bewilderment. He looked… deprived? My jaw dropped figuratively as he leaned towards me with a swift step, pressing into me, his arms actually hugging me around my waist as his soft lips tried desperately to connect with mine once more. WOAH WOAH WOAH NOW!

I yelped, slapping him across the face forcefully with a loud smack, stumbling back clumsily, falling on my ass. "WHAT THE FUCK?" I yelled and whined loudly. Duvaithor ran a hand through his red ponytail. Now it was his turn to explain, leaving me out of the path of destruction. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, buying himself time. My eyes were wider than any moon. He… tried to kiss me again. What was he thinking? It's fine in the aftermath! Not in the aftermath of the aftermath!? I was justified! It's a proven warrior fact! No? Well it was now. He was no expert on Nordic culture-nor was I-but I knew better than him!

Duvaithor gulped. "Oh, um… I, I didn't mean to do that." He stammered. He looked rather frazzled and confused as to this entire situation. I was still on the ground, staring in shock at the dark elf. He slowly extended his hand to help me up, but I slapped it away, standing on my own. I wanted to press him further on the matter, but couldn't see a point to it. Duvaithor wouldn't bend to my questions. He would find a way to bring this all back to me. So instead we both stared at the dead dragon. I moistened my lips, hugging myself as we were silent. I coughed slightly at the awkward stillness. My eyes flicked to him, finding him avoiding me, observing the dragon still.

I huffed and turned. "We… We should get moving…" I said, my voice sounding rather frail and weak. It had surprised me.

Duvaithor and I wandered the land. I watched as he walked ahead, quiet for once. The serpent like wind wound its way around us as we trekked onward. I had half the mind to ask him of our quest, but the other half told me to shut the Hell up. My thane stared ahead, his eyes never leaving a fixed place. It left me uneasy. Where were we? When could I go home?

Finally, Duvaithor turned to me. "Keep that weapon ready, we will be approaching a bandit fort soon…" he grumbled.

I gave a curt nod, never fully looking at him. The memory of his lips on mine felt… wrong. I felt like I had finally become his property, his full set of belongings. I was nothing more than his loyal hound. I had suddenly lost my nord heritage. There was no greater dishonor… I longed for some rotten snow or even a river of the foulest kind to bathe my lips in. I wanted to rid myself of this elvish mark left sizzling on my soul.

Duvaithor spun back around with an obnoxious sigh. The thrill of the journey seemed to be taking its toll on the elf. As we ventured further across the Eastern part of Skyrim, Duvaithor came to a halt. At his pause, I readied my sword that was still slick with dragon's blood. He looked back to me.

"Look up there, just ahead. That is our destination," he murmured.

"What is this place?" I asked, staring at the desolated fort.

"Nothing you need to know, Lydia. This is of my concern, not yours. All you need to worry about is-"

"You, yeah, I got it Dovinitor." I grumbled.

"It's Duvaithor," he corrected slowly.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. It's a stupidly hard name to say. Your parents were cruel to give you such a name," I spat, walking forward towards the fort. Duvaithor snatched my arm, yanking me back, gaining a surprised yelp from me.

"I didn't say go, Lydia. You will learn to obey my orders," he cooed lightly, giving my arm a gentle squeeze. I twisted my face up in disgust, pulling my arm back. What. A. Dick.

"Yes, master…" I growled harshly. My jaw was tight enough for me to cough up teeth.

Duvaithor merely shook his head, his white eyes glowing with amusement. "No, No silly girl… Thane, Dragonborn, Duvaithor-"

"I refuse to call you that. That name is far too difficult. What the Hell does it even mean anyway?" I retorted. This caused Duvaithor to go quiet. He gave a small chuckle, shaking his head slowly. Was he not going to tell me? To answer my question he turned around heading towards the fort. I huffed, striding beside him.

"What? I don't get to know?"

"Not at the moment, no!" he said delicately, offering a playfully charming smile. I held my tongue, nodding slowly, following him into the fort.

The darkness greeted us the second the door closed behind me. It took my breath away, making my eyes widen. I was not scared of the dark like a child would, but this darkness was different. All my senses could somehow feel it. The blackness stung my eyes, forcing them to stay open begging for a flicker of light in any direction. My nose and tongue could catch its death-like odor, striking fear into my heart for an unknown reason. What was this place? I could feel the shadows wrap around me in a cold embrace, making my skin crawl. Could the Dragonborn feel this too? Or was it meant to drive the weak away? Well, I would show them. I was not weak! Not anymore.

He nudged me. "Let's go, keep quiet, no sound or light, I wish to surprise these bastards, understood?" his lips were on my ear as he murmured his instructions to me. I nodded faintly so he'd know I had heard his quiet request.

We moved forward. He moved at a quick pace, leaving me stumbling behind. How was he so stealth-like? He was such a tall man! Psh… Elves… I tried to move as quickly as I could whilst not making a sound. After a while unfortunately, I kicked something blocking my path. I cursed mentally, moving down to shove it out of my way. My fingers came into contact with something wet, sticky, and rather squishy. I sucked in my breath, taking in a horrible smell of innards and decaying flesh. I opened my mouth letting out a silent scream as I slowly stood and stepped over the body, only to hear the crunch of small bones. I winced as I kept stumbling like a drunken idiot over many bodies. How had what's-his-face missed all of this? I let out a whimper, barely audible. Where was he? Why hadn't he stuck with me? Was he trying to get me murdered? Or just have nightmares I could never rid myself of?

To my right I heard yelling rip through the disturbing quiet, making its way as it echoed off the stone walls.

"Damnit" I grumbled, hurrying to the end of the chamber, not bothering with being silent anymore. "Dragonborn!" I called out, trying to have someone give me a clue as to where I was. This reminded me of a game I played in my village with the other children, back when my parents were alive. Ghost in the graveyard. The person who was 'it' would yell a monsters name given to a player, and whoever had claimed that title would have to mimic the sound they made and give up their location. I smirked slightly. "Skeever!" I yelled.

A female Nord bandit roared in response, racing to me. There were torches now that lit the hallways, showing that she had short blonde hair that stuck out of her iron helmet. I chuckled smugly.

"That's not even close to the right sound!" I mused as they attacked me. There was two to which I easily killed. I yanked my sword out of the dead bandit's breasts, racing up some stairs that they had previously descended. In my haste to run up, I tripped over a tripwire. I gulped as I heard something very loud click and heavy objects beginning to roll down the spiral-like staircase. I gasped and began sprinting back down the stairs, trying to take as many at a time as the boulders gained momentum, coming faster and faster towards me. "Shit! Sweet Talos!" I cried as I pumped my legs faster. Unfortunately, the second I was on ground level, the rocks smashed into me. I yelped and fell flat on my face as a few more slammed onto me. I groaned loudly as it ended. Today was not my day. I laid there for a bit, grumbling mainly in exhaustion.

I heard someone coming down the stairs after a while. By the calm and collected footsteps I knew it was my thane. Even if that wasn't obvious enough, a soft chuckle came across his lips once he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"I should have known you were the one who cause all that commotion, dear Lydia…" he said coyly as he shoved some rocks away from me. I huffed as I slowly got to my knees.

"You are just bad luck dragon boy…" I spat as he helped me up. "Why the Hell did you leave me, anyway?"

He gave an amused laugh as he lit the room more with a candle light spell. "Well what follower can't handle some bandits and a few rocks?" he tsked. "Oh I had faith in you!" he winked. "Hey now, don't be nasty, Lydia. You were my distraction! Besides, what needed to be done is done, so we may leave now," he said turning to head back outside.

We entered the chamber I had been hopelessly lost in. Now that it was lit I could see several bodies. "What… happened?"

My thane looked around, seeming bored. "Poison perhaps?"

I shook my head, kneeling down by a corpse. What had happened to this person? I didn't know how to describe their state of decay. It was as if they had just been killed, yet appeared that they had been dead for many years with the way they had been drained of life. The Dragonborn watched me for a bit, but then sighed. "Can we go? I am getting hungry." He complained. I slowly stood, following him out into the night. "Let's make camp somewhere close. Since we know this place is vacant now, we have nothing to worry about." I gave a short nod.

After about an hour we had camp ready. We had our backs to the fort to give us protection in case anything decided to move in. I sat by the fire, warming my hands. I watched as he slowly turned a rabbit on a stick over the fire. He glanced to me. "Hold this will you? I need to get my armor off." I took the rabbit, trying not to look as he took his armor off, leaving him in a rough spun tunic. He rubbed his eyes, giving a loud yawn. "I can take that back now, you can't cook shit," he teased as I gave it back. I glared at him, punching him in the arm. He chuckled lightly. "I would say I'm sorry, buutttttt I'm really not sorry," he smirked. I merely rolled my eyes, shaking my head as we sat by the fire. He fell quiet for a long moment, merely watching the rabbit cook and the fire burn. "What is it like?" he finally said.

"What is what like?" I asked quietly, glancing towards him, finding he still blankly stared into the fire. This white eyes perfectly contrasted the rich darkness of his skin, especially with the fire light creating a spotlight for him.

"To live in the Jarl's palace?" he clarified. "Dragonsreach… must be nice…"

I gave a light snort, running a hand through my black hair. "To some it might seem like a dream, sure… but it's actually Hell… I'm a prisoner… it's not like I'm favored or respected there… I was just sort of there," I murmured. He finally looked to me.

"What do you mean?"

"Well… My uncle has children of his own-fucking brats I tell you, by the way… but it's not like I got attention or anything. Sure I had good meals and such. A good warm bed. Yet… I had nothing to do. I couldn't exactly stroll around the city. If you haven't noticed this already from our travels… but I'm sort of prone to trouble. My uncle kind of forbad me to leave Whiterun but really the palace. You see…" I swallowed slightly, glancing to him to see if he was actually listening. He was looking back to the fire, but his elven ear twitched at my pause.

"Go on…" he said slowly, knowing my voice hinted to some hard subject.

"Well… a couple years ago… my parents were murdered… we still don't know who did it, but people just say the dark brotherhood did it. They say it like that's supposed to give me closure or something. Anyway, I lived in Helgen with my parents, you know… before they died and Helgen was destroyed of course… I had lots of friends there and that sort of thing. My parents never told me my uncle was the Jarl of Whiterun and I still don't know if it was my mother or my father who was related to him, but I don't really care. They are dead now so it doesn't matter really…" I whispered, looking down. I sighed, taking my boots off. The Dragonborn stayed silent as I recollected my thoughts. "It's just… I never belonged in Dragonsreach. So… I guess in a sense I am thankful that I'm not there," I added. This made him look to me. A small smile formed on his lips.

"Thanks for sharing, Lydia… I had no idea… Maybe someday I can help you find your parent's murders… if you'd like?"

I blinked. "I… would like that… thank you…"

He gave a minor nod and then moistened his lips. "I guess we all have some form of family issues," he murmured. I tilted my head, about to ask him what his story was but he held up his hand. "Sorry… I'm not quite ready to share my can of worms…"

"Oh, well, alright then," I replied, looking to the rabbit that was now done. He pulled it off the stick, taking a dagger out, dividing up the meat. Once we were both eating I did ask one thing. "So that name story… can I at least hear that?"

He stared at me for a bit. He licked some juice from his fingers with a small smirk. "Well… I suppose…" I grinned, setting my food down as he did the same. He wiped his hands on his pants. "My mother gave me the name…"

"Du…" I tried quietly.

"Duvaithor…" he whispered.

"Right," I laughed.

He nodded slowly, watching me for a moment. "It means in the elven language… Well…" he stalled, looking up at the sky.

"Oh come on, spit it out, elf!" I joked, the suspense clearly killing me.

"It means beautiful darkness…." He mumbled. We stared into each other's eyes for what seemed like forever, until we both burst out laughing. I held my sides, rolling back into the grass. Duvaithor laughed loudly at me. "Hey! It could have been worse!" he exclaimed.

"Your mother is so sick!" I snorted. "Beautiful darkness?"

Duvaithor grinned, giving a small shrug, pulling his red hair out of its ponytail, giving me a pose. "Hey, it suits me! I'm a sexy dark elf!" that made me laugh even louder.

"Suuurrreeeeee, whatever you say!" I winked, rolling back up into a sitting position, wiping tears from my eyes. I shook slightly from my laughing fit. "So…" I said, regaining my serious attitude. "Shall I call you Beautiful? Or Dark?"

Oh if looks could kill, but he relaxed and chuckled. "Are you seriously going to call me beautiful?" he purred, batting his eyes, a hand under his chin.

"Mmm… It would surely be odd to yell in battle… I'll just call you Dark… how does that sound?"

Duvaithor smirked. "Why not just Duvaithor?"

I gave him an annoyed look, "I'm not your mother. Dark it is!" I fussed.

He grinned lightly, picking up his rabbit meat, nibbling on a small bone. "Sounds perfect…"

"Indeed it does… Beautiful"

I know that isn't much background on Duvaithor, but in my mind Lydia always calls him Dark. Or Beautiful if she wants to tease him. So this had to be done. I also wanted to get my version of Lydia down too. I thought it would be interesting if she lived in Helgen. I hope my next chapter can get up faster than this one did. I had this one all planned out, I just couldn't get myself to actually sit down and do it.