A/N: All these stories have been written from a male point of view so far. Time for a change. Erdi was the first NPC I met that I really wanted to take along even though I couldn't, possibly because I'm terribly weak to being asked. I hadn't bothered with a follower at all until Roggi asked (see Chapter 2 for details) and I would have taken Erdi along in a heartbeat, even though I suspect she wouldn't have been much use.
Erdi was used to seeing Imperials; they were everywhere now, especially since the assassination. They made her feel safe; they were going to look after the Jarl, look after all of them.
The woman with the close-cropped hair who arrived in Solitude one breezy afternoon was not a soldier, although she carried a sword. She was no soldier's wife either, no haughty Imperial putting up with the Provinces until her spouse got a promotion. She was an adventurer, clearly, like something out of a storybook, or the tales Erdi spent her spare septims on coaxing from the bards.
She smelled of horses and steel. Freedom.
She paid no attention to Erdi when she walked past; she was here to see the Jarl, but not twenty minutes later she was back, walking more slowly, taking time to examine the rich decorations that Erdi spent three hours every day keeping immaculate.
"Hello," she said, and Erdi nearly dropped her dusting cloth.
"Oh, hello," she said. Say something, anything. "Do you need a partner?"
"What?"
Oh Divines why did I say that? I have to keep going now, "Just picture it. Two women, the dusty road, strapping men at every tavern, a fortune in gold to be claimed..." she trailed off, feeling a blush rising in her cheeks.
The Imperial stared at her for a few moments and then threw her head back and gave a rich laugh. "That's the spirit. What can you do?"
"Well, I can cook and clean," she began. "Oh, I could keep your blades sharp, like I do in the kitchen. I can mend your clothes, and I've got a mean right hook." She demonstrated on empty air. "No drunken lout has ever pinched my behind twice."
"Well, I could always use a squire, and some company. I'm leaving Solitude tomorrow at dawn. Be at the stables if you want to come with me. I'm Florence by the way, but people call me Flick."
"Flick?" What an odd name.
Flick just winked and strolled out.
That night there was a huge to-do in the palace, as it was discovered that some gold and books had been stolen. All the servants were rounded up and Falk shouted at them. Then everyone's room was searched and when that didn't turn up anything useful, the steward shouted at them again. With her eyes stinging, Erdi packed her savings, a copper necklace, two spare dresses and one fur cap into a satchel and hurried out of the castle. They'd suspect she was the thief now but she didn't care; opportunity had knocked, and her destiny awaited.
Flick was staying at the Winking Skeever and was easy to find, although when Erdi arrived she wasn't in her room. Erdi sat outside the door, waiting for her to return, and eventually fell asleep. When she woke up, Flick was standing over her and she could smell breakfast cooking downstairs.
"Oh dear," Flick said. "Am I to take it you've made your decision?"
The town was still mostly asleep when they left; only guards patrolled the cold streets, and the grass was still gleaming with dew.
Flick saddled her own horse when they were outside the city.
"No need to wake them up," she said. "They work hard enough as it is." Erdi secured her satchel and Flick helped her up onto the back of the horse. "Hold on tight," she advised.
She dug her heels into the horse's sides and they were off. The cold morning air whistled past Erdi's ears and whipped her hair back from her face. She glanced over her shoulder at Solitude for one last look.
She was so happy she felt like her heart would burst.
It didn't last of course. That sort of joy was too big to live for long in one heart, human or mer, and adventuring was hard work. Erdi was no stranger to hard work, and she uncomplainingly cooked meals, cleaned armour, sharpened swords, brushed the horse, washed their clothes and picked armfuls of herbs. But Flick was determined to teach her other skills too, and Erdi found herself holding her breath as she skinned and butchered animals, and her eyes watering as she made potions.
But even that she didn't mind too much, even though every night she tumbled into her bedroll with an aching back and arms and slept as if dead.
Adventuring was dangerous work. Flick didn't ask Erdi to accompany her when she ventured into a cave or tomb, but when she huddled alone, her dagger clutched in white-knuckled hands, waiting for Flick to return, Erdi almost wished she had. Often it would grow dark, and Erdi would hear wolves howling, or worse, and every moment she feared that Flick had met her end in the caverns below.
She always returned however, sometimes bloody and beaten and sometimes much later than she'd intended.
"That was bigger than I thought," was all she usually said. Then they'd go through the spoils, and Erdi would be set the task of counting coin and polishing jewels. But oh, what jewels. Flick gave her a small cut of her takings, and Erdi comforted herself by imagining what she could buy in exchange for the gleaming stones.
And then there were the nights they weren't on the road. They stayed at many inns, and it was then Erdi got a night off to relax. Only it was hard to relax when people were drunkenly carousing below. Flick seemed to find the whole thing funny, but Erdi missed the refinement and reserve of Solitude.
And there was a distinct lack of strapping adventurers that weren't either reeking of mead, in their dotage, or face-first in the nearest serving wrench's bosom.
"I thought we'd find handsome adventurers living in castles," she confided one evening, over the background roar of some kind of drinking contest.
"Oh honey, if you want a man in a castle you'll have to marry a Jarl," Flick said with some amusement. "Or a Jarl's guard. Save up and buy your own castle, is my motto."
But she could cope; the mornings were still crisp, the landscapes still moved her, and Flick's sly jokes still made her laugh.
And then one day Flick opened her mouth and nothing was ever the same.
She shouted, and the leaves on the trees quivered and Erdi clapped her hands to her ears and shrunk back, and the dragon that had been circling overhead, high above the pines, landed with a crash on the forest floor. The battle seemed to last a lifetime. Erdi found herself running, the heat from the dragon's breath at her back, and the smoke from the smouldering vegetation in her eyes. Eventually she found a cave, and fear – and Flick's homemade poison – gave her the strength to defeat the wolves sheltering within it.
When at last the forest grew silent, Erdi ventured out into the gathering dusk. A thin column of smoke rose from the trees and Erdi followed it back to its source. She found the horse hiding in a strand of trees and she grabbed its reigns and coaxed it back, its ears twitching unhappily.
Flick was standing before the dragon's skeleton, blade in one hand and shield on her other arm.
"Flick," Erdi called softly. "Are you all right?"
She turned and heaved a sigh when she saw Erdi. "I'm glad you're all right." She looked at her battered and bloody blade for a moment before sheathing it. "I suppose it's time to stop playing around."
"You shouted," Erdi said. "You're the dragonborn."
Flick shrugged, "That's what they call me. I must admit I was rather hoping the whole thing would go away."
They travelled a bit further to get away from the smoke and the body of the dragon before making camp. While Flick tended to her injuries, Erdi prepared dinner. At least, until she found herself weeping salty tears into the soup.
"Erdi?" Flick looked up.
"Ugh, I'm sorry." She got to her feet, wiping her eyes as she stumbled away from the camp. Stupid, stupid girl.
She wanted to run away, she could hear Flick getting to her feet to follow her, but her fear of what might lurk beyond the firelight kept her in the clearing, her head bowed as she tried not to cry.
"This isn't like you, what's wrong?" Flick asked.
"I can't do this," Erdi said. "I can't kill dragons. I had no idea – I thought we would collect a few bounties or explore some ruins, but you're the Dragonborn and I'm just...I'm not brave, I'm not strong. I don't want to die."
"Neither do I," Flick said. "Why do you think I've been avoiding all of this. But there's not going to be much left of Skyrim if I don't try and do something. But I don't expect you to kill dragons."
"I feel like I failed you, after all the time you spent looking after me and teaching me things."
Flick frowned for a few moments, "Come back to the fire before the soup burns. And do your hair; there's someone I'd like you to meet."
"What, tonight?" Erdi asked. "Out here?"
"You'll see."
Intensely curious, Erdi did as she was bid. She washed her face and combed her hair, and even put on her old copper necklace.
"Now what?" she asked, wondering if Flick was going to reveal some kind of magic.
Flick grinned and rummaged through the saddle-bags before producing an object wrapped in cloth. She unwrapped it with a flourish and held it up.
Erdi rolled her eyes, "That's just my reflection, Flick. That's a very nice mirror though."
"When was the last time you looked at your reflection?" she asked. "Go on, look closer."
She handed the mirror over and Erdi stared into it. She looked older. Her hair was sun bleached, and she didn't look as gaunt or pale as she once had. When she looked, really looked, she realised she hardly recognised herself. Something of the horizon was reflected in her eyes; the road had left its mark on her, older, wiser, stronger. She smiled and forgave herself a little.
She went to hand the mirror back but Flick shook her head. "Think of it as a house warming present for your castle."
Erdi was not woken by Flick's gentle prodding, but by the sound of birdsong. The sun was above the horizon and the fire was cold. The horse was grazing nearby but Flick had gone, taking most of the valuables with her. Erdi sat up and looked about, listening to the sounds of nature around her.
She pulled on her boots, kicked sand over the fire pit just in case and saddled up. The day was still young, and a short way down the slope the road stretched on.
A/N: This was originally going to be femslashy but it didn't turn out like that. Maybe next time.