Chapter Eleven -Mending What Was Broken
Farkas, Laure, and Vilkas sat at the Winking Skeever with the Keiran, picking over the remnants of a fine meal. They relaxed near a roaring fire, looking forward to soft beds after more bottles of mead and warm baths.
Laurelin was sprawled comfortably on Vilkas' lap, her legs thrown up over Farkas' knees, and his giant hands rubbed and kneaded her calves free of knots. A lovely bard was singing with a pure, soaring voice in a nook nearby. Three pairs of eyebrows shoot up incredulously as the bard began a haunting tune.
Our Hero, our Hero claims a warrior's heart
I tell you, I tell you the Dragonborn comes...
Vilkas and Farkas roar with laughter, while Keiran glanced around confused, not understanding the mirth. Laurelin scowled and shifted on her mate's lap, not as amused as the others. The tops of her high cheeks were flushed pink as she thumped Farkas' chest with her boot and sank her fingernails warningly into Vilkas' thighs, but her warnings were ignored. Farkas hummed along, while Keiran shot Laure a helpless look, and his expression tickled her enough that she couldn't contain herself any longer. She shook her head and her melodic laugh rang out. It was pretty damn funny after all. People might spit on her because of her pointy ears, but they loved to sing that damned song.
Nudging Vilkas with her elbow, she asked in a low voice, "So, you going to tell them your news?"
"You first, love."
"Fine. Hey guys, we have some great news for you!" Farkas and Keiran looked up, unspoken questions forming on their lips. "The Jarl of Solitude wants to make Vilkas a Thane!" Vilkas was scowling at her, although the corners of his lips were twitching up slightly.
"That wasn't what I meant, and you know it. For your information, our esteemed Harbinger here is also to be made a Thane of Solitude. She has other big news for you though. Tell them love."
Farkas jumped up with a huge grin on his face. "That's wonderful Laure! I'm so happy for you two! Don't worry, I can do extra jobs so you can sit back and relax more and get plenty of rest!"
Laure and Vilkas both had perplexed looks, eyebrows arched, chewing lips, trying to sort out what on Nirn the big twin was going on about. As they were all quite drunk; it took a moment. Finally, she blinked and chuckled.
"Uh, Farkas, I'm not with child..."
"Oh...wow. Uh. Wow. Sorry Laure. Got a little excited there. I just thought, you know. Big news—boy, do I feel like a giant's ass right now." He sat down again, reaching for her legs which he had dropped unceremoniously in his excitement.
"You guys want to see my big news?" When the boys nodded, she slipped off her mate's lap and headed for the door. "Grab your bags, we have to walk a little way." Before long, they were standing in the street, looking up at a tall stone mansion. Laure walked a small iron key across the back of her fingers, then skipped up the front steps and fitted it into the lock. Turning back to the three men, she had a huge smile of satisfaction on her face.
"Welcome to Proudspire Manor. As of today, Elisif has sold it to Vilkas and me in thanks for our services to the hold. Well, stopping Potema, and the twenty-five thousand gold probably didn't hurt. Come in. We'll need to furnish it still, but that will happen in time." The house was dusty and only a few barrels and empty crates lurked in the corners, but the pale stonework and craftsmanship were still evident.
"Nice place, you two. Does this mean you're both moving to Solitude now?"
"No, but it does mean we'll have a place of our own when we're in town now. The Winking Skeever is a great inn, but once this place is fixed up, it will be a fantastic home away from home, aye?"
Farkas agreed and wanted to camp out in the new place, even though there was no furniture. So they explored a bit around the house, made a roaring fire out of broken barrels and crates, and made their beds up on the floor.
Laying back, they passed several celebratory bottles of wine around, recounting old adventures and the battle of the day before. Sleepiness claimed them one by one, until only Vilkas was still awake.
Farkas was a giant's ass sometimes, but he meant well. Months back, Laurelin and himself had addressed the topic of her possibly becoming pregnant. After all, they made love whenever possible and from the beginning hadn't put much thought into precautions against it. She had somewhat sadly informed him she felt she was passed her child-bearing years. At the time, he had shrugged and thought little of it. What had seemed a convenience then now seemed a little more disappointing. Children had always been a far distant concept-before her. Now a part of him was slowly growing to hope that someday they might. He finally fell asleep, thoughts and possibilities milling slowly in his mind. Perhaps someday soon, when all this other chaos had been resolved.
"We never should have stopped in Roriksted." Vilkas muttered in her ear as they approached the Whiterun stables. His arms were wrapped around her waist as they rode double on his gelding. Farkas was on his giant shire mare a few paces behind.
"I think it's funny, brother. Admit it, this is the most new recruits we've had in years." Farkas jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the two men doubled up on Roast, whose ears were flattened back against her head in protest against the added weight. Keiran was guiding her along, encouraging her with soft talk and strokes to the neck. The newest of the new recruits was behind him, looking up at Whiterun with awe.
Barely out of his teens, Erik of Rorikstead was joining the Companions. He slid off the back of Roast and walked to the stables, avidly taking everything in. Once everything had been unloaded, they headed up into the city. After a quick stop at Breezehome, the five of them made their way through the market and up to Jorrvaskr.
Proudspire might be an impressive and beautiful house, but Jorrvaskr had a presence and warmth. Stepping in always felt like coming home should. Vilkas pulled the door open for Laurelin, and immediately the sound of Athis and Njada arguing greeted them. "So good to be back," she muttered.
"Some things will never change," remarked her mate, glancing inside. "Well, maybe that's different!"
Njada was wrapped up in Torvar's arms, her face swollen and red. Torvar looked sober in every aspect. Athis was leaning over the back of a chair, his fingers biting hard into the wood.
"Look, my only complaint is the noise. Can't you two just go rent a room or find a bush to rut in?" Njada opened her mouth to retort, her face twisting up in fury, but before she could respond she was interrupted.
"Well! It's so good to come back and find everyone getting along so nicely!" Laurelin called out as she stepped forward. Vilkas and Farkas flanked her left and right, while the new whelps hung back in the shadows, trying to make their large frames small.
"Harbinger! You're back! He is being the most insufferable-"
"Harbinger, allow me to explain-"
"My favorite drinking buddy-wait..."
"Enough!" roared Farkas, hands curled into giant fists on his hips. He glared with heavy brows lowered, down at the three bickering shield-siblings. His raised voiced silenced the room in an instant; the big man rarely yelled at them like that.
Laure came down the steps and took a seat. "Can any of you tell us what is going on here? One at a time. Njada, you start. Any interruptions from the others will earn you each an extra hour of workout time."
"Well it started a few weeks ago. With Torvar being less of a disgusting slob, he's become, well, more likeable. We ended up in the furs right after you left. Athis is being a jealous prat and saying we make too much noise, won't stop making stupid jokes." She shot a warning glare toward Athis, who had opened his mouth to retort, but he snapped his teeth together and ground them instead.
"Is that all?"
"No! I swear it's as if he wants to catch us at it; he walks in every time we so much as kiss."
"Athis, what do you have to say about this?"
"First, allow me to say I am not jealous of their disgusting copulations. They are welcome to each other. My complaint is with the manner they go about it, practically in public. All day they grope at each other, swapping spit at fantastic volume. Frankly I find it appalling. Furthermore-"
"That should be enough, Athis. Thank you. Now, Torvar?"
Torvar glanced around the room, blushing slightly. "I guess we been a little, ah, enthusiastic the last few days, but we ain't doing it out in public. He caught us up here last night, and well, we all sleep in the same two rooms, so if things get loud-" Athis ground his teeth tighter, literally biting back a scathing comment. Torvar continued, "if things get loud, I'm sorry. It's just, this is the first time in a very long time a woman has been interested in me for me. Not 'cause I'm buying the next round. It feels nice." Torvar looked away sheepishly as he admitted that.
Laure and Vilkas glanced at each other and smiled. They understood what Torvar was feeling and were sympathetic.
"Look, I think we may be able to come up with a solution to this little dilemma," said Laure. "The Circle will talk a few things over and get back to you soon. In the meantime, this is ridiculous. We have real fights and jobs to do. Let's focus on that. In that regard, I would like to introduce the two newest recruits to the Companions. Keiran of Markarth and Erik of Rorikstead. Whelps, these three are Njada, Athis and Torvar; the rest of them are probably laying low right now. Welcome to Jorrvaskr."
Later that afternoon, the Circle called everyone down to the Harbinger's study. With all of them in the room it was cramped. Wanting to make this next part quick, Laure hopped up on a chair and called out, "There will a few new arrangements. First off, please welcome the newest member of the Circle." She patted Athis on the shoulder, and he managed to look smug and stunned at the same time.
"What? That is completely unfair!" shouted Njada belligerently.
Aela quietly told her to "Shut up and listen." Arms folded, sour expression on her face, Njada listened.
"Athis has been here long enough to know what is expected. He has earned our trust and proved himself in battle. In addition, he has valuable skills to share with the group. He has agreed to work on tempering his remarks and judgments, those that come across and mean-spirited or tactless. Athis will be moving into Skjor's old quarters-"
"Hey!" came a few disbelieving calls before Farkas silenced them again.
"-while Njada and Torvar will have the left-hand room in the whelps' quarters. We can have a door installed so you can have privacy. Does this suit you two?" Torvar and Njada both nodded cautiously.
Ria finally chimed in, "So I have to bunk with the newbloods?" she frowned unhappily. Then she thought about bunking with the two newbloods, both tall and handsome. Biting her lip she mumbled, "I guess I can live with that."
Another two weeks had passed. Laure sat in Kodlak's study, eyes trained on a letter, but her thoughts drifted. Athis was enjoying his new-found status and had declined Aela's offer of the beast blood. Njada and Torvar were happy with the new sleeping arrangements and the newbloods had settled in nicely.
Vilkas was up in the training yard, working the newest recruits with sword and shield. Mournful, sweet lute music drifted out the open door of Farkas' room. He had been playing more of late, true to his word, and his skill had improved swiftly. He didn't sing often; he was strangely self-conscious when it came to his voice. She wished he would sing more often. Contrary to what Laure might have thought when they first met, he had a remarkably clear singing voice.
He could have been a bard as easily as a fighter, she thought to herself, not even pretending to read her letter anymore. Instead she closed her eyes, leaned back, and let the music pull her away for a short time. Another amazing thing, found while reading letters.
Vilkas approached her later, a few bundled letters in his hands, a troubled expression on his face. Laure looked up when she caught a familiar scent.
"These just came for you from Riften. I'll give you some privacy if you need it." She knew he had recognized the scent and was probably wrestling with his emotions. Accepting the bundle, she let her fingers linger on his a moment.
"No need love, I don't want to hide anything from you. After I look over these, we should go out for a hunt. I'm feeling restless."
"Aye, sounds like a good idea." He watched while she opened the top letter, scanned through it, and set it aside. Working quickly through the pile she had soon penned replies to most. One she scanned quite closely. "May I ask what those are about?" he finally ventured.
"Most of these are just regular correspondence with a few trading companies I've invested in. This one is from Brynjolf, updating me on things at the Guild, and this one is from my daughter, Aheia back in Valenwood. The last one is the bill of sale for Proudspire. For some reason it was sent to Honeyside. My housecarl in Riften knows to just let Bryn forward my mail."
"It's been a long time since you've heard from him, aye?"
"Months," she admitted quietly. "Most of my messages from Riften have been from Delvin or Vex."
"Do you miss him?"
"Do you really want to know the answer?"
"You don't need to say it. But I think I understand more than you give credit for. He was dear to you, and still is, even though circumstances have shifted. I don't expect you to put away your feelings for him." Vilkas sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, ruffling it up. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "Good news from Valenwood I hope?"
"Aye, she writes that my grandson is growing swiftly; he's a year old now. The rest of my family send love and wish the conditions allowed them to travel for a visit, but with war everywhere it seems, they are reluctant to make the journey."
"Perhaps someday we might visit your homeland?" he suggested.
"That would be marvelous! Now, the sun is probably setting soon. Shall we go out for a 'walk,' my love?" They had taken to calling their night-time forays "walks," and most of the Companions were savvy enough to not question much where they went and what they did. So far they had managed to keep Erik in the dark as to their condition, but one never knew when he might discover the truth.
"Let's get going." He waved her through the door and slapped her bum as she passed by.
Laure and Vilkas were up and about in Breezehome when a knock came at the door. Lydia answered and soon brought a letter upstairs. Vilkas was shaving; Laurelin had just finished putting on her white warpaint.
"Message from Riverwood. Courier said it was urgent." The brunette Nord woman handed over a folded note and sauntered downstairs. Vilkas and Laure stared at the note a moment, then she reluctantly opened it.
Meet me at the Sleeping Giant inn immediately.
D.
She handed the short note to Vilkas and began pulling on her boots. He took a few heartbeats to read it, then began pulling on his tunic and armor. They dressed quickly and left, leaving Lydia to run a note up to Jorrvaskr. They decided to leave the horses, Riverwood being only a short jog away.
Before the sun had reached its zenith, the couple were walking into the Sleeping Giant to be greeted by Orgnar and Delphine bickering about whether the ale was bad. Deciding to make this as brief as possible, she followed Vilkas to the bar.
Delphine spotted them and called out, "Good, you're here. Meet me downstairs when you've got your drinks." She disappeared, and Laure and Vilkas could hear her sliding open the hidden panel and clattering downstairs. Moments later they were following, brandies in hand, neither wanting to risk the ale.
Delphine didn't waste time, quickly outlining the plan. Laure and Vilkas listened closely while they sipped their brandy, asking the occasional question. Soon they were finishing their drinks and trotting upstairs. Laure was quiet, which was unusual after any sort of encounter with Delphine.
Vilkas waited until they were well out of Riverwood and jogging downhill before asking, "What are your thoughts love?"
"Hmm, where to start? I still don't entirely trust her. She wants me to break into the Thalmor Embassy to steal any information they have on the return of the dragons. That is nothing new to me, but I have another one of those uneasy feelings in my gut. I guess it just feels as though she's twisting me up in something that I don't need to be involved in. I suspect her strange insistence that the Thalmor are somehow responsible for this mess is delusional. But I have to do this if it offers even a hint of the truth."
"When do we leave?"
"Love, I'm not sure you should get mixed up in all of this. The Companions have remained neutral, so we're relatively free of Thalmor intervention-"
"I can still be seeing to the furnishings and such at the mansion. As Thane, it would be proper to maintain a respectable residence. The embassy is only a few miles from Solitude..."
"Fine. Make sure we don't get shorted on bookshelves. Love, I need to go to Riften for a few days before we do this. There is someone there who can help me with a disguise to infiltrate the embassy. I'll need to leave today."
"Should I meet you in Solitude, or somewhere else?" He knew it would be useless to argue, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
"Go on ahead to Solitude; I'll meet you there in a few days. If it will make you happier, I can take Lydia. I'm sure she's getting restless anyway."
"If you aren't in Solitude within a week, I'm coming looking for you. Stay safe and I'll try not to worry." He softened his words with a smile and they jogged on down the hill.
Laure slipped through the back door of Honeyside in the wee hours of the morning, stifling a yawn. She and Lydia helped each other out of their armor and fell into the big bed without a word. Hours later, Iona climbed the stairs and found her thane back to back with a stunningly pretty brunette.
Funny, she usually doesn't go for the dark-haired women. Said they remind her too much of her mother, or sister maybe? The housecarl had seen numerous interesting things in her service to Laure. Finding her thane, Brynjolf, and any number of additional people tangled up in her bed come morning was nothing surprising. Although Bryn mentioned she seemed to have settled down with a Companion. None of my business.
Iona set to making breakfast and heating water. By the time the other two women were stretching, the water was hot, food was done, and Iona sat down to quiz her thane after handing over plates of steaming scrambled eggs and seared fish. Laure spent the next hour scrubbing, eating, and deflecting as many of Iona's questions as possible. She left Lydia with Iona at the house, then headed across town to the entrance of the Guild, tucked in the graveyard.
Once down below, she sauntered over to the desk she shared with Bryn, checked the chest in front and pocketed her share of the monthly take, which was significant after being away so long- which was fine by her; this was going to be an expensive trip. She walked around, chatting lightly with several of the thieves before heading to the Flagon.
She was greeted with happy calls and shouts from the few people up at this hour and already drinking or breaking their fasts. Sitting at a table with Delvin was Brynjolf, looking the same as always, knowing grin curled across his lips. He still looked thin, but he met her eye and smiled, indicating a seat next to him. She slid in after giving him a long, tight squeeze.
"How are you? I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been avoiding coming back. It was thoughtless of me to leave you here with all of this." She smiled sadly, fingers tangled in her lap. Vekel brought her her a shot of whiskey and a foaming tankard of dark bitter ale.
"We've been well, things are running smoothly enough. The war cuts into some profits, but we're making a killing off other areas of interest, so it balances out nicely in the books. Other than that, it's the same game as always. People come and go, do jobs, get caught and released-or not. Maven rides our case about everything she conceivably can, and we all appease her as much as possible." He watched as she tossed back the whiskey and chased it with half the ale.
Delvin quietly excused himself, patting her shoulder as he moved off, leaving her and Bryn alone.
"So it sounds as though you've been busy," Bryn commented. "If half the tales are true, you've slain more than your fair share of dragons lately. I'm glad to see you're well. Care to tell me about it?"
She wasn't in the mood to gossip, but it was so nice to hear his voice again, see him smiling, she couldn't help herself. She may not be in love with Bryn, but she still loved him intensely, and their estrangement had hurt her more than she wanted to admit. She cautiously began filling him in, telling him of some of her adventures with the Companions, trying to be respectful and not flaunt her new lover in his face. She knew he wasn't stupid and would know she wasn't telling him everything, but she wasn't sure he would want to hear her gushing about Vilkas the entire time. This was the first time they'd spoken since she had rushed out just over three months ago.
Just chatting with him felt good, and she realized she needed to feel like she could come back to him at any time and still feel welcome and accepted. His warm voice helped strip away the awkwardness, and before she knew it they were bullshitting like they always had.
"Well," he announced as he poured the last of a flagon of wine into their cups, "it's quite a tale you tell. A part of me hoped this crisis with the dragons would be quickly resolved and you would be back with us all the time, but it seems you are doing well and still managing to find some happiness in spite of everything, so I'm happy for you too, lass."
"That means so much, thank you."
"I mean it. You know, it almost makes me wish I could have seen some of these things with you." He smiled softly.
"Bryn, most of those adventures were being dragged through horrible weather, fraught with danger, sleepless and thankless. I could never pull you away from the Cistern and dump you into the mud and fire. There have been fun times aye, but many, many times where I wasn't sure how the fuck I was going to survive. It wouldn't be fair to you, and I don't think you would have liked it very much."
"Laurelin Vo'Shai, you never asked me if I wanted to come. You assumed I wouldn't want to go hunting or treasure seeking."
"You wanted to come hunting with me? All those years?"
He glanced down into his curiously empty cup, and swallowed before answering quietly, "I would have gone to Oblivion with you, had you but asked."
Her pale eyes blinked slowly. "Oh," she bit her lip to keep it from quivering, overwhelmed for a moment. To think he had felt that kind of devotion and she had let it go. Am I a fool? "I can't express how sorry I am. I should never have assumed." Gods, are we talking about hunting or our relationship now? Both, so damnably tangled together...
"We all make mistakes, lass. You assumed I didn't want to be a part of your life. Truthfully, I never asked to go hunting with you because you seemed content out on your solo forays into the mountains. You'd come back invigorated, focused, horny. And I enjoyed being home for you to come back to."
"I loved coming back to you."
Bryn leaned over the table and uncurled her knotted fingers, and brought them softly to his lips. "I should have said it."
"That you wanted to go hunting or on the road with me?"
"I love you."
"Oh." Fantastic, now I'm repeating myself. And it isn't even witty! Oh? Say something else, stupid mer! "I knew. You didn't need to tell me you loved me. It was in every kiss and every pretty you stole for me. I was scared to let you in, though. I wasn't fair to you."
"Fortunately for me, I was able to finally open that lock. And I don't regret the time we had together, not one moment."
"I feel the same. I needed you and I didn't even know it. The world probably owes you the greatest debt of all. If I hadn't met you, well, I could very well still be hiding out somewhere avoiding life. And the World Eater would remain unchallenged."
"How's the crowding in your head? You were worried before that the souls you absorbed would become too much."
"That isn't actually much of a problem. I thought they would fight me, but their essences survive through me, so they end up being more helpful than I thought. Turns out many of them feel betrayed by Alduin."
"Are you seeking a way to defeat him?"
"Aye, that's actually why I'm here. I need a disguise and some paperwork as well as goods suitable for my story."
"Tell me what you need."
"All the usual. Clothing, money, forged contracts, letters of recommendation and credit. I'm thinking I will be an antiquities dealer, looking to expand my market to Skyrim, so I'll need some random artifacts and weapons perhaps. I need to go speak to Galathil about the rest of my disguise."
"Where on Nirn are you going that is so deep you need her services?" Alarm was now painted clearly over his face, eyes wide.
"I can't tell you. If word got out that the Guild was in any way involved in what I'm about to do, you'd all be dead. That deep, and that's all you need to know for now," she said without a glimmer of humor.
"I'll take your word for it then. I'll start seeing to the incidentals while you take care of the other matters. See you soon, lass." He moved off toward the Cistern, while she took a short walk over to a robed and hooded Bosmer woman reading on a bench by the pool.
The other woman finally looked up from her book. "Good day Guildmaster. How may I serve you today?"
"I need a bit of a change. Think you can manage it?"
"Manage it!" Galathil cried in indignation. "I should think I've proved myself over the past few years as being able to 'manage' the miracles I perform. Well, what is it you need this time?" Laure led her into the far back room of the Flagon before revealing what she wanted.
"Simple enough. Why the secrecy for such small modifications?" sniffed the other Bosmer woman in irritation.
"I want as few people to know and to see this as possible. I warn you, if my description is leaked, your safety can not be guaranteed. Understand?"
The Face Sculptor, as she was called, gulped and nodded. "Shall we begin, then?"
Bryn found them a short time later as Laurelin was admiring her new look in a mirror. "Nicely done. No one will recognize you like that. Here is everything you need for now; the rest will be waiting for you upstairs behind the shrine."
"Good. I should be back in a week or so to get this switched back, so I'll let you know how it goes then." She set the mirror down and handed over a heavy sack of gold and gems to Galathil. "Your fee, but I would appreciate it if we came to say, an agreement on your fee for changing my face back."
"What sort of agreement did you have in mind? I certainly don't give away my services for free. I'm not a common beggar, you know."
"Oh, I know. And as you aren't a beggar, nor have you deigned to lower your prices for the Guild that shelters you, nor joined the Guild, but remain in our tavern day and night without paying rent or tithes..."
"You would charge rent from a sister Bosmer? A-a refugee cast out from home and station by cruel cha-"
"You just charged a sister Bosmer a small fortune for your services. Don't try that with me; this is business."
"Very well, I suppose I can return your face to its former blandness for free. And good luck; it seems you'll need it."
"Nocturnal watches over us all; perhaps she'll favor me one more time. Thank you for your help."
"It was no trouble. Come back to me if you ever have a real challenge for my skills." With that, Galathil stood and walked off, tucking her payment into a large satchel.
Bryn and Laure watched her go, suppressing the smirks and giggles until they were sure she was clear. Stifling the giggles in sleeves, they shook their heads and began sorting through the items Bryn had gathered for her. It was all there, a change of clothes or two, letters, maps, lists, false mercantile documents, letters of credit, and at the bottom of the pile one last surprise.
"Oh!" she murmured once more, in delighted surprise. She pulled the hood of her Nightingale armor up and pressed it to her face, over her eyes. Tears threatened to spill past her lashes but the dark cloth wicked them away. "I thought this was done for after that dragon we fought!" she mumbled through the hood.
"Nope. Karliah and I had Arnskar Ember-Master take a look at it. Void salts, leather, and some time and it's good as new. Or at least I hope it is. You've grown a bit since you last wore it." She popped up from her seat and began tugging off her clothes, eager to see if it would fit. Bryn hastily turned away, looking to the door.
"Not interested in the goods anymore?" she teased, realizing she could have started stripping at a more private location, one that didn't leave poor Bryn staring into the hallway.
"Oh, it's not that. Many a night I've wondered about what it would have been like if I'd taken you in my arms after you showed me that one thing and told me about your lover - and what might have happened if I didn't act like a complete ass and let you walk out like you did. I regretted it as soon as you were gone. They all thought you might be dead; I sent a few of the lads after you and they brought back your Guild armor in shreds. I could only hope you had simply ripped it off. I didn't tell them..." he trailed off, caught a glimpse of her standing quietly, half in her Nightingale armor.
"I'm sorry to have put you all through that."
"Apology accepted. You've been going through quite a bit; it wasn't fair of me to react the way I did." Abruptly, he chuckled and added, "Perhaps I was upset that for the first time ever you were tall enough to kiss without me sitting on the floor, or you standing on a chair, and then you ran off with another man. I didn't ever get a chance to appreciate the new curves."
"What are you talking about? You always just picked me up anyway. Also I'm built the same way, just taller now." Somehow it made so many things better, just hearing him make cracks about her height.
"Ah but some things look a bit fuller. Rounder, you might say."
"And here I thought you liked it when people mistook me for your daughter and I called you 'Papa'. Was I wrong?" She had finished pulling on her armor now and was buckling her boots, grinning up at Bryn.
"Careful now, I'm still a man, and if you insist on dirty talk like tha-"
"Papa?"
"Woman, I should turn you over my knee right-" he trailed off when he saw her standing tall and proud in her beautiful, light-drinking armor. The hood was pulled up over her head, mask up, concealing her new features, but the posture was all hers.
"Fits like a glove," came her slightly muffled comment.
"It always did. Why do you think I was always trailing behind?"
"Pervert." Her shadowed eyes sparkled in the torchlight. "Thank you, I can't say it enough. I should get going though; I have a long road ahead of me."
"You always do, lass. Nocturnal watch over you."
"You know me; eyes open."
"Walk with shadows." He held the door into the cistern open and she slipped through, satchel under the short cloak of her armor. In a blink, she disappeared entirely. Thinking she was gone, Bryn sighed. When he felt invisible lips press to his cheek he started slightly, but the smile that followed her real departure stayed with him for the rest of the day.
Laure sat at a small table, looking out the window overlooking the amphitheater behind the Bards College. A stone urn with a snowberry bush was the sole ornament on the porch. She had sent Lydia ahead to the house; she herself had checked in at the Winking Skeever in her new guise, had a brief chat with her contact Malborn, and then decided to take in the "night air" as she took a walk about the city. She took a moment to enjoy the quiet, then stood and slipped in the side door.
Vilkas was sitting near the fireplace, reading, hair falling into his eyes. He glanced over at her and smiled. "I wondered when you were going to come in. Welcome back." He pushed out of his seat and made straight for her, enveloping her in a tight hug. When he had let his lips wander softly over hers for a time, he took her hand and led her over to the dining and cooking area, where it was warm and bright.
"You're not going to say anything about my face?"
"Well you said you were going to Riften for a disguise. I see you weren't just thinking about something simple, were you?" It wasn't easy but he was pushing down the uneasiness he felt in his gut when magic touched his life.
"Nope. No one should ever associate the Dragonborn with the spy who broke into the Thalmor Embassy. To further the misdirection, I won't see you until this is over. The party is in two days. I'm staying at the inn under the guise I picked out. Now I just wait. I should be able to handle another few days without you, with this face. I have a few hours I suppose before my absence from the inn might be noticed..."
"Would you like to see the rest of the house? It still isn't completely done, but we have most of the basics now. And the housecarl arrived yesterday; her name is Jordis."
She interrupted before he could continue. "Where's our bed? Why pass up an opportunity to tumble a woman who looks like a perfect stranger? A stranger who knows intimately how you like to be touched and kissed." It was strange, her voice and expressions on a face so different. Her hair was now a warm chestnut color, flowing over her shoulders in a long, smooth wave. Her pale eyes were closer together and a golden amber color. Her nose had been thinned, and now had the slightest hook to it. Her high cheekbones had narrowed, and even the shape of her lips was subtly different. But her scent was the same. That was what had alerted him in the first place.
He kissed her hard, teeth biting her lip, soothing her tiny cry of surprise away as he trailed his lips over her jaw and up her ear. She shook in his arms and pressed against him. Her scent filled his nose, mouthwatering and sweet. Her lips were parted, and for all that her new nut-colored skin was many shades darker than her natural color, he could see the flush of color creeping across her neck and cheeks.
"I don't care what you look like, love. Now, let's go find a bag to put over your head," he joked and fended off the slap he knew was forthcoming.
Greetings lovely readers! I would like to apologize for the tardiness of my updates. It's high summer here in California, and sometimes it's so hot I get sick-all that lovely northern European blood makes me wilt in high temperatures. Consequently, the last thing I want is to roast my lap with my computer while my fingers suction together from the sweat. I will try to keep up the posts and not lag, but I make no promises. Thank you all for your continuing support, faves, follows, reviews, and mostly your time. Cheers! ~PyreIris~