Lod never mentioned their conversation again, and Ria never brought up her thoughts, figuring he'd eventually find someone else or she would leave and perhaps it would be better to let bygones be bygones.

He knew, he must have known. He never once asked her for an answer, not in three years. He didn't ever attempt to court her, or purchase an Amulet of Mara, or anything of the sort. But, every so often, when his mind wandered enough that he didn't think better of it, words would slip out. He would hug her goodbye and mumble that he loved her. He would congratulate her when she sparred with him and call her his kind of woman. He would watch her as she adjusted her hair and tell her to stop worrying so much, because she was already beautiful.

She kindly ignored it every time. She wanted to be able to say something back, to say that she loved him, too, but those words would never come out. And, so long as she didn't say anything, they went back to their easy friendship, with only his occasional slip-ups suggesting anything had changed at all.

The only completely unavoidable change was that, a month or two after Lod's confession, Dengeir stepped down, and Lod was released from service, along with a quarter of the guard. He returned to the smithy, where he worked with Pontius once again. With two, they were able to create arms and armor twice as quickly, but, with the guard pared down, nobody was willing to buy.

Now, money was scarcer than it had ever been. Ria scrounged for whatever work she could find, which, for the most part, meant babysitting Indara and Mathies' young daughter. She didn't mind it as a job, as she really rather liked children and little Lavinia especially, but it seemed that, as time went on, her chances of going to Whiterun and joining the Companions were growing slimmer by the day.

Unless, of course, something happened that would drastically change that, as her father seemed to think it would right now.

"A trading post!" Pontius boomed. He'd become rather stout as he'd grown older, and his belly wobbled a bit when he laughed or yelled, which he'd done quite a bit in the past week as he prepared for his trip. He'd spoken of almost nothing else in that time. "All the way out by Windhelm."

"All the way in Windhelm?" Ria swallowed the lump in her throat. Windhelm was an awfully long ways away, in the farthest reaches of Eastmarch. Not to mention that, from what she'd heard from Solaf, most of the locals didn't take kindly to strangers, particularly when those strangers supported the Empire.

"It'll just be a couple weeks, dear," Maris said as she adjusted her pack. "If things go well, your father will have better materials for his forge, and better materials means more money."

"And we'll sell half the product along the road!" Her father grinned widely. His wares were placed strategically him: swords were strapped to his belt, an axe hung from his back, and some pieces of lighter armor were layered in a pack. He wasn't a tall man, but he could carry a decent amount of weight, perhaps due to all those years working with a hammer and anvil.

All that product was a nice attraction for bandits, Ria noted. "You're at least taking a carriage, aren't you?"

"We'll be taking one from Whiterun," Maris assured her. "And, from Windhelm, we'll be going to Riften, and probably head to Ivarstead after. We'll only be walking for the first and last legs of the journey, dear. There's no need to worry."

"If you say so."

It wasn't the first time they'd left town, but it was certainly the farthest they'd gone, as far as Ria knew. They'd taken trips to Helgen once or twice in the past few years, and once they'd gone as far as Riverwood, but they'd never gone further than that. The roads were dangerous even for more seasoned travelers, and while Falkreath was generally a safe town, it was imprudent to leave a young 20-odd-year-old woman alone in a cabin at the edge of it for any prolonged period of time, even if she could defend herself.

But it seemed nothing would stop them now, as the potential for better business was too lucrative to turn down. In the meanwhile, Ria could take over Maris' work at the farm, or she could watch over Indara and Mathies' daughter more than she already had. This would mean more money all around, and then maybe...

Ria shook the thought from her head before it even fully formed. Until they actually had the money or opportunity to do so, running off to Whiterun would be nothing more than a dream.

"Just a couple of weeks, right?"

"Three at the most, love." Maris placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It gets difficult to tell, with longer journeys, since there's any number of places we could stop along the way, but it shouldn't take us any longer than that."

They'd discussed it all already. Ria had no reason to keep asking questions, as she knew exactly what their plans were, but nothing could quite allay the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Such a long journey, and a dangerous one at that, made her want to keep them at home as long as possible.

But if they planned on making it to Riverwood by nightfall, Pontius and Maris had to leave now. They bid Ria goodbye with a kiss on the cheek each, and off they went. Ria watched from the doorway as they started down the path towards Helgen. She stood there until they had passed the point where the path turned, and they were beyond her control from then on.

The first week passed fairly quickly. Ria found herself busy taking over her mother's work at Corpselight, helping Mathies tend the crops or watching Lavinia when Indara went out to the field. It was an easy distraction, focusing on the sun's heat in the field and attending to the little girl whose energy knew no bounds. When she had something to do, Ria felt that her mind didn't wander to her parents and how they were faring.

Evenings were a bit trickier, but she managed. If all else failed, she could talk to Narri at the inn. But talking to Narri brought about its own set of problems, as all the Nord woman would ever say was that Ria's parents were fine and she shouldn't worry, and then she'd proceed to tell Ria all the gossip on whoever was renting a room for the night.

The second week was easier, as Ria realized that, at the very least, she could manage on her own for the time being. Surely Pontius and Maris were fine, and she needn't worry. She could focus on her work, and talk to Lod or Valdr during her time off, and listen to Narri's gossip and Valga's rumors before she went home to sleep.

By the third week, Ria was simply excited that they'd be coming home soon. Any day, they could be back, and they could be better off for it. If they'd sold some of their wares (and for higher prices on the road than they'd be able to make in town), or got better materials for the forge, they might be able to afford for her to go on to Whiterun. She didn't dare get her hopes up, but the idea still sat in the back of her head, making itself known whenever it could.

And then the fourth week came.

Perhaps it was taking them a bit longer to walk from Ivarstead. It wouldn't be unthinkable, Ria supposed. Pontius always seemed to overestimate how quickly he could move, and Maris never told him otherwise. It could be a longer walk home than they'd thought. Perhaps they'd stopped in Helgen for a night or two.

Maybe, if she told herself that enough times in a row, she'd believe it.

As the fourth week drew to a close, it was all Ria could do not to drive herself crazy with worry. Any number of things could have happened to her parents, none of them good. There was nothing she could do but continue helping Mathies and Indara during the day and walking to Dead Man's Drink at night.

The idea of going to the inn to drown her sorrows was certainly tempting, but whining to Valga and Narri once again was not. At least, Ria thought as much as she headed home that Loredas evening. She needed to talk to someone else, but to go to Indara would be to impose herself, and Valdr had left for a hunting trip just that morning. She didn't much care for Solaf, or, rather, for his younger brother who sometimes sneered at her when he thought she wasn't looking. But she didn't dare go home and sulk to herself, and so she was left with one last alternative.

And that was how Ria found herself in front of Lod's house, hand at the ready. He was still her best friend, even if that confession of his had changed the air between them. If anyone could talk her through this and calm her nerves, it was him.

She paused before she knocked on the door. Perhaps he'd gone to sleep. Smithing was hard work, and his assistant was gone for a week longer than he'd said he'd be, so perhaps he'd be tired. And it was late, anyways. She oughtn't knock on his door at this time of night.

But she did.

When Lod opened the door, she could see he was still dressed in his day clothes. Good. She hadn't woken him. "Ri," he addressed her with a nod and a smile. "What's going on?"

"Can I talk to you a while?" Ria asked timidly. "It's just... I don't want to be alone, and if I have to hear Narri go on about whoever's dropped into town again, I think I'll go mad."

"Of course."

He opened the door further and gestured for her to come inside. She followed, the cozy little shack feeling something like home. It wasn't really home, not quite, but it was comforting nonetheless. Game hung from a rack near the hearth, light from the fire illuminated the living space, and the entirety of the house smelled like salt and honey.

Lod moved a couple chairs in front of the fireplace. Ria sat down slowly, almost shyly, as he ran to a table and grabbed a bottle of mead and two tankards. "Black-Briar reserve. Keep it around for a rainy day." He divided the contents between the two tankards and made his way back over to the hearth. When he offered her one of the cups, she took it silently. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's..." Ria wasn't even sure where to begin. "I shouldn't be bothering you with all of this. You know my parents have been gone longer than they said they'd be."

"Aye, I know." His voice was gentle, as it always was. "But it bothers you, so... so you're not bothering me."

"Thank you." She stared at the floor as she took a sip of the mead. "They should have been home a week ago, is all. I've been doing the work that Indara and Mathies need me to do, but I can't do anything for them. I don't like feeling like I can't do anything."

"You're doing plenty, Ri. They do well having a girl like you for a daughter. You know that, right?" He sighed. "I'm not aiming to pry, Ri, but it's not just restlessness that's got you here. Tell me about it."

For a moment, she was just silent while she thought about his words. "I'm terrified," she admitted quietly as she turned the tankard in her hands. "They've never been gone this long before."

"Pontius is a strong man, Ri. And your ma fought off slaughterfish." When Ria stiffened, Lod gave her a comforting smile. "If anyone can handle themselves out there, your parents can."

"But not just anyone can." Tears were beginning to bud behind her eyes. "The bandits around the woods have been getting more active, you know that. And there's so much between here and Riften. Thieves. Wolves. Hells, they planned on passing through Ivarstead. If they took the route from there to Helgen, they could even stumble across a frost troll."

"They might just be caught up in Windhelm a while, you know." He placed a hand on her knee, a welcome touch at the moment. "It's a big city. And the blacksmith in Riften's a legend. Second best in Skyrim. Your pa would have a hard time walking away from that forge."

Ria spared half a smile, if only to humor him. "I just... I'm worried they won't come back."

"They will-"

"But what if they don't?" A tear escaped and began making its way down her face. "There's been talk that Siddgeir wants to raise higher taxes, and I can't pay that without them. They barely make enough money as is, and all I've ever done is odd jobs."

"Well, the guard could do worse than you, that's for sure. And you've always got me."

"I'm lucky for it, too." She put down her tankard before moving to wipe away the tear from her face. Crying was not something she'd hoped to be doing today. "Don't know that Siddgeir's looking to hire anyone new, though."

"Then you work with Mathies and, if push comes to shove, you pack your stuff and bring it over here. I'm not letting anything bad happen to you, you hear?" He smiled at her, warm and kind and loving. "But your ma and pa are coming home, so there's no need to worry about it. If they aren't back tomorrow, I'll take a day to go to Helgen and talk to a friend there. He'll have an eye out for them."

Whatever shreds of self-control Ria had fell to the wayside, and the tears she had desperately been holding back fell down her face faster than she could wipe them away. She wasn't sure if it was the fear, or the restlessness, or the sheer kindness from her friend. Gods, she didn't deserve him. And he didn't deserve to have her stringing him along, never giving him the straight answer he needed.

He simply sat there as she wept. He scooted his chair around a bit to rub circles on her back, letting her sob and blubber incoherently about how sorry she was that she was reacting like this and how awful it was that he had to sit there and watch her when he probably had just been expecting a quiet night to himself. She didn't dare say everything on her mind; surely it was rude enough for her to show up on his doorstep and proceed to whine all about how awful it was that her parents weren't home when his own parents were several years gone. But he merely sat there, comforting her, asking nothing in return.

Eventually the tears subsided, and Ria finished her mead in relative silence, with Lod continuing to soothe her. The sting from all the weeping faded, her eyes and cheeks became less flushed, and her breathing returned to normal over the next hour or so.

By the time she'd composed herself, it was getting rather late and her tankard was drained. She wouldn't have minded another, just to have a normal conversation in which she didn't end up sobbing uncontrollably, but it would have certainly been rude, no matter how much Lod would insist it wasn't. Besides, soon it would be too dark for the walk home to be safe.

"I should be going," Ria finally said as she stood. "If I stay much longer, I'll end up crying my eyes out. Again." She wiped the heel of her hand across her cheeks, checking for any tears she might have missed before. "Thank you for listening to me. I must be a sight-"

"Hey. Don't you worry about that." He took her into a hug and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "You are always welcome here. You know that."

Ria blinked away the tears threatening to spill forth again as she clutched at his back. "Thank you." She squeezed him tightly for just a moment, just long enough to feel his warmth before pulling away. "You're a good friend to me."

"Just remember that I'm here for you, Ri," Lod said as he let her go from the embrace. "And I love you."

And there were those words again.

She didn't say anything; rather, she just looked at him. He wasn't an unattractive man, per se. His skin was leathery, perhaps from too much time by the forge, and he was hardened from his few years as Dengeir's guard. And he looked so much older than he was, though she hadn't the faintest idea why. His short golden hair... well, Ria had never much cared one way or another about blonds, but it suited him, she supposed. And he was there, and he'd certainly already expressed interest, which was more than she could say for any other man in the town.

She'd never been much good with flirting. Flirting required planning things out carefully, and she'd always preferred to charge into things straight away. Perhaps it was just that she was young and headstrong, perhaps it was that thinking let her revisit the past too much. She didn't know, and, at the moment, she really didn't care. She just knew that he deserved his answer.

Without any more thinking, Ria leaned in and kissed Lod full on the mouth. He staggered for a moment, seemingly unsure if it was truly happening. Soon enough, though, he recovered, and pulled her against him with a growl. Something in that growl was off-putting, but Ria stuck to kissing him, as if kissing him would make her love him.

He worked to deepen the kiss, and she let him. His tongue forced its way into her mouth, practically devouring her. His palms cupped her face, tilting her head back as he pleased. And she let him.

She let him.

If she forced her thoughts a certain way, she could pretend it wasn't him. She could imagine some handsome stranger, or that boy who'd left town some three or four years ago whom she'd grown so fond of. She could think it wasn't her dearest friend, and she could continue kissing him as though he were someone she were genuinely attracted to.

When he broke off, she couldn't help but feel a bit of relief. He rested his forehead against hers and panted for a moment. "Made up your mind, have you?" He let out a quiet sort of laugh, a friendly one, but still one that sent an uncomfortable shiver run down Ria's spine. "You want me?"

She could have told him "no" and left, and she had no doubt he'd let her. She should have said no, should have walked out the door and back home, to spend the rest of the night alone or even at Dead Man's Drink where she could spill her sorrows to Narri like she'd hoped she wouldn't have to. She could have, and more than a small part of her wanted to.

But she didn't.

"Yes," she said, putting as much enthusiasm into it as she could muster. That seemed to be enough for him, and he kissed her again, fiercely and hungrily. She had to admit that his lips felt nice. Just to be kissing someone felt nice. Having someone's body pressed against hers felt nice. Knowing who it was, however, made her wish it was anyone else.

And yet she didn't stop him as his hands wandered down and splayed at her waist, nor did she pull away when they wandered further and grabbed hold of her rear. If anything, she kissed him harder, pressed herself closer to him. It was she, not he, whose nervous fingers began pulling at the laces of his shirt, and whose hands slid awkwardly over his chest.

Lod broke off the kiss once again, and Ria didn't know what she ought to do with her hands anymore. "Careful what you do there, Ri. You'll give a man ideas."

"Maybe I want to." Oh, why did she say that?

"You sure? You've been upset something awful-"

"Please." The word sounded clipped, and Ria silently chastised herself for it. "Please, Lod, I... I don't want to be alone tonight. I want this."

From the way his eyes shone at the sound of her words, she figured he wasn't going to argue anymore. "Do you?" He grinned as he pulled back and took her hand in his. "This way."

He led her to the bed on the other side of the room, and her heart pounded in her chest the entire way. Really, the one thing she hoped for now was for the floor to open up beneath her and swallow her whole, but she would see this through. She had to.

Lod was quick to disrobe her. The way he looked at her, the joy and hunger in his eyes, gave her some small semblance of comfort. If nothing else, this would make him happy. And, if she were lucky, this would eventually make her happy, too.

Soon, they were both completely bare to one another. She made every effort to smile back at him and enjoy herself as he lowered her to the bed. And she did, at least a bit. Lod really wasn't bad to look at, though he was a bit burlier than she preferred. He was gentle enough, too, at least trying to make sure she got some pleasure from the experience.

Yet, when he finally entered her, she couldn't help but notice that only he was grunting and whispering sweet things to her, while she simply screwed her eyes shut, focused on relaxing enough to ease the hint of pain that came with her nerves, and thought of people she'd rather be with.

She tried, she really did. She moaned, out of courtesy if nothing else. She arched her back, dug her fingers into his shoulders, kissed him back whenever he kissed her, all the little things she'd heard drive men wild from Valga and Narri when they gossiped about the ones they'd bedded in the past. She pretended to love him and genuinely want him, and, for moments at a time, it almost worked.

After he'd climaxed, he was kind enough to finish her off, though it took some time. She almost felt bad about it, like it was somehow her fault that she didn't find him terribly arousing. For a moment, as she finally found her release, she almost did think she loved him in that way, almost cried out his name and cuddled herself against him when it was all over.

But she couldn't do those things.

Instead, she slept with her back to him, curled up into herself and left with the unmistakable feeling of being unclean.