Fate's Games

(A/N: Fifth and last up today. As with the last one, I have another named Dragonborn. As with the last one I will probably do more with this and extend it if I make it one of the big projects I plan. The reason I chose what I did for this is simple. One of them you can marry, the other you can't. The one you can't is also the one she seems to care more for and is also the one willing to traipse all of Skyrim to be with her, as I found out with my male character after marrying her.)

Do You Love Me As You Once Did?

Faendal didn't honestly know if he could compete. After all, she and Sven had been childhood friends. He had been a stranger who had one day waltzed into this town during a hunting trip; and who had never left after laying eyes upon her.

Sven didn't honestly know if he could compete. After all, Faendal had the beauty and the grace of an elf on his side. All he had was his voice. Though he was good looking enough, he was no elf, and it was no secret Lucan liked Faendal far more than him.

Camilla wouldn't deny she loved the attention she got from both parties. To have two handsome young men fighting each other over her would stroke any young woman's ego. She knew, though, that sooner or later she would have to choose. She'd thought the choice would be simple. Oh how wrong she'd been, for she'd come to care deeply for, perhaps even love, both of them. The thought of choosing terrified her. Perhaps that was why she'd put it off for so long.

ES

Things changed when a young woman rode into town. She claimed to be Dragonborn, but how could that be? Camilla already knew who the Dragonborn was, Trina. This girl was a messy looking blonde, dirt on her face, war paint, scars, and her hair in knots. Every eye was on her looking doubtful and incredulous. Camilla walked to a post outside the Riverwood Trader and leaned on it curiously. Faendal suddenly appeared from behind, squeezing her sides and making her squeal. She giggled and leaned back into him, grinning. "A strange one, isn't she?" he asked.

"As were you," Camilla replied.

"He should have stayed that way," Sven bit, approaching and softly nuzzling her hair, handing her a flower.

"Sven, it's beautiful!" she exclaimed, grinning at the blossom. It was a welcome relief from the days that had passed worrying about her brother's recovery after his run-in with hired thugs.

"As you are, love," Sven replied. Faendal frowned coldly and looked away, pain pulling at his heart. What chance did a humble hunter stand against a bard who knew just what to say and do and when.

"We should offer her hospitality," Camilla remarked, absently tucking the flower in her hair.

"There's an inn she can stay in," Sven stated unconcernedly.

"True as that is, she may not have the money to spend," Faendal remarked.

"Lucan will have little use for her, then," Camilla remarked, smirking affectionately at the thought of her brother. Worry came to her once more. She wished he were recovering quicker. Nothing frightened her more than the thought that he would become feverish and unable to fight it off in his weakened state. He would die then, she knew.

"Few would have much use for her," Sven bit. He had always been ever so slightly disdainful; not that he came from a very well-off family as it was, but it was only his nature.

"Be kind," Camilla chastised. "Come on you two, let's make her feel welcome." She headed off. Faendal and Sven exchanged looks then headed quickly after her.

ES

She had gone directly to the stream. Agitatedly she attempted to comb out her matted and dirty hair. Going through swampland had been a mistake she never planned to make again. She growled in agitation and dipped her hair in the water, desperately trying to clean it out. She felt a tap on her shoulder and gasped, quickly lifting her head and turning, grabbing out a dagger and holding it towards the one who had accosted her. "Whoa, easy!" the young Nord man exclaimed, shuffling back. The elf man with him went for his bow just in case. The young woman between the two looked surprised at the reaction.

The girl put the dagger away and said, "Sorry, I don't take well to being startled." She turned back to the stream and began wringing out her hair again.

"I don't take well to being threatened at knifepoint," the still shaken Sven replied, standing up, accepting Faendal's helping hand up.

"We're sorry to startle you, stranger. My name is Camilla. These are my friends, Faendal and Sven," Camilla introduced. "Here, this will help with your hair. You looked like you were trying to brush it out." She offered the girl her brush. For a moment the stranger was silent, but soon enough she took it and began to work on her hair. Finally she had it clean and brushed out.

"Thank you," she said. "My name is Frieda. I'm passing through."

"There's an inn here you can stay in. It's actually quite nice," Faendal offered. "Sven works there as a bard."

"A bard?" she asked, perking up at this. "I wanted to study as a bard, once. My family couldn't afford the fees, though. I learned what I could from my Uncle, but he died before we could get very far in my studies."

Sven perked up. "It's rare to find one who thinks so highly of the arts. Most of the dregs in this town know little about music other than that it's something to be enjoyed," he remarked. "Usually they only want to get drunk to it and dance. They rarely bother to learn to actually play."

She smiled approvingly. "Are you any good?" she wondered.

"Am I any good?" he asked, obviously offended.

"Sven is one of the best," Camilla said, smiling and hugging Sven's arm. Sven grinned, obviously pleased at the action.

"Easy, friend, don't let your stubborn pride get the best of you," Faendal said, smirking at his rival though his eyes were cold as he appraised the way Camilla held his arm.

"Come, Frieda, I'll take you to the inn. You can get washed up there," Sven offered, stretching his hand out towards her. She looked at it curiously. Finally she took hold and allowed him to help her rise.

ES

"Sister, you need to choose," Lucan asserted to her. "You can't lead them both on forever."

"I know, just-just don't push me," Camilla pled.

"I'm not trying to, but Camilla… the last fight they had almost ended in Faendal's death. The only reason he's alive now is because Sven suddenly realized how badly the elf had been hurt and stopped. I mean they may be rivals, but Sven's no murderer. Besides, on good days you could almost believe they were the best of friends," Lucan said. "Look, tell me this at least. Whose face comes to your mind when I say the word beloved?"

She stiffened and he knew, then, that an image had come to her. Slowly she looked up at the window. "Both," she replied.

"That's a lie and you know it," Lucan stated.

"I'm not lying!" she insisted.

"Yes you are!" he argued. "Whose face did you see first and foremost?"

"I'm going to the inn," she curtly said, making for the door.

"Camilla, Camilla!" he called, pursuing her. He followed her all the way to the inn begging for an answer in fact. She walked inside and he followed, loudly demanding, "Who do you see?" He bit his tongue instantly as all eyes turned to him; and amongst those eyes were her two suitors. He looked quickly to her face. Her eyes had become terrified and for the briefest of moments her gaze wavered between both, they flickered in the direction of one specifically. He knew, then, the answer to his question. "It's-it's him," he realized. She looked quickly over at her brother, terrified. Swiftly she turned and ran from the inn, sobbing.

"Camilla!" Sven and Faendal both called, moving towards the door.

"Don't bother trying," Lucan quickly said. Now was definitely not the time for them to go after her. They both stopped. The one to whom she looked, his eyes were filled with concern and fear and… and love… The other simply looked confused and a little upset. Perhaps he knew already that he had lost. Perhaps he didn't care as much as he thought he would. The one not chosen, his eyes strayed to the stranger in town, the girl, Frieda, who claimed to be Dragonborn.

ES

Frieda had been in Riverwood for a while, now. In that time she had learned quite a lot about Sven, Faendal, and Camilla; such as their relationships with one another. Both Faendal and Sven were after Camilla's heart. Camilla was unable to decide between the two. This was good, she decided, because she had come to think quite a lot of Sven. His rivalry with Faendal was a complex thing. Sometimes the two would get into battles that bordered on deadly; sometimes they would literally draw weapons on one another to which Faendal had the advantage, no doubts to it. Where Sven had only a dagger and sword, the latter less often than the former, Faendal had a bow and an aim that was signature to his race. However, there were days when she could almost be fooled into thinking the two were the dearest of comrades.

"Like this?" she asked Sven as he taught her a chord on the lute.

"That's it, you have it!" he cheered, grinning proudly at her. "Frieda, you're a natural at this! It's amazing how far you've come in such a short time!"

"You're a good teacher," she replied, blushing and brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She was really a very pretty girl, Sven decided. The first time he'd seen her, he could hardly have believed there would be a wilder looking woman in all of Tamriel. To be truthful, though, he hadn't minded it. He'd actually thought it suited her. Now that she was cleaned up, he saw her for the beauty she was. He very much liked this as well. He wouldn't go so far as to say he had come to have affection for her, oh no; his heart was still with Camilla. Still, it was tempting.

ES

She brushed her hair absently, gazing out the window. Her brother's words still echoed in her mind. Who do you see when I say the word beloved? Who do you see…? She couldn't deny the image she saw any longer. 'It's him,' her brother had said in realization that night at the inn. She put down her brush and buried her face in her hands. "Oh what am I going to do?" she asked softly.

"Camilla?" a voice asked from the doorway leading to the balcony. She gasped, quickly looking up.

"Faendal," she said in surprise. Had he climbed up? Yes, she determined, he had. It was an amusing thought.

"Are… are you alright?" he asked. Truth be told he couldn't get that night at the inn out of his mind. She had looked at Sven when her brother had asked her the question… she had looked at Sven… That realization hurt more than he had even begun to think it could.

"No… no," she replied honestly, because she wasn't. Far from it.

He approached her and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "It's okay," he softly said. "It's… it's okay…" It wasn't, though, it wasn't… He couldn't let her go… He didn't want to.

"How can you say it's okay?" she hissed, closing her eyes tightly.

"I only wish you had told me sooner, which of us it was you loved," he remarked.

"I didn't know myself," she replied.

"How long have you loved him?" Faendal questioned.

She stiffened, slowly looking up at the wall across from them. After a long moment she closed her eyes tightly. "Him?" she asked.

"There is no better match. You have known him since childhood. He will treat you well," Faendal said softly. "But… but know that I would have followed you to death. I would have followed you from anywhere and to anywhere. I ask only that you permit me to see you after you marry him, even if only once in a while. I promise, I won't try and steal you away. That's a line I will not cross. Sven… Sven was as much my friend as my rival, and when you're his there will be no reason for me to hate him any longer say for the fact he took you from me. Perhaps then he and I can work on becoming friends."

"It isn't him I love," she stated, unable to contain her words anymore. What the elf had said, what he had offered… She couldn't keep silent and pretend that he was correct in assuming it had been Sven she loved. It would be too cruel on them both.

Faendal caught his breath, paling. He hardly dared believe that he had heard those words from her mouth. "You-you choose me?" he asked. "You choose me!" he exclaimed, entire expression lighting up.

"Please, don't tell Sven, not yet. Let-let me tell him," she replied through a tearful laugh as she turned to him, draping her arms over his shoulders and kissing him softly, grinning.

"Camilla, are you just saying this because you feel guilty?" he questioned, suddenly concerned. "I… I don't want to hurt you, or him."

"My heart is yours," she whispered softly into his ear. Gently she dropped a kiss on it.

ES

She was jealous, very much so. Oh how Frieda was jealous. The time Camilla spent with Sven was increasingly lengthening. It hurt her very much. She looked sadly down and picked up the flute he had taught her to play. She sat next to the river and began playing a song on it, trying to forget. She cared nothing for him, she cared nothing for him… Saying so didn't make it true, though. The mournful song she played on the flute was proof enough of that.

She didn't feel his eyes on her, watching and listening. The song stopped. She sobbed, bowing her head low and burying her face in her hands. His teeth gently clenched. He approached her quietly. "Frieda?" he questioned as he neared.

She caught her breath, looking sharply up. She turned, eyes wide. "S-Sven," she said, wiping her tears away. She rose quickly and asked, "What is it?"

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"It-it's nothing," she replied.

"Sven!" Camilla called out. He turned quickly, looking at her. Finally he turned back to Frieda and knelt.

"Come on," he said, pulling her up. "You know, you're my prized pupil."

"I'm your only pupil," she teased, grinning. He chuckled and brought her away.

ES

They approached Camilla and Faendal hand in hand. "You called, milady?" he asked.

"I want to talk to you," she said.

He frowned curiously. "Okay?" he more questioned than asked. He squeezed Frieda's hand gently and went to follow her. Frieda bowed her head sadly, biting her lower lip. Faendal took note and smirked in amusement.

"You like him," he realized.

"Wh-what? No, not at all. He-he's my teacher, no more and no less," she replied.

"I'm sure," Faendal teased, grinning. She blushed deeply and glanced away.

ES

Camilla and Sven walked in silence together for a time. "Do you still love me like you once did?" she suddenly asked.

He froze, looking over at her. After a time he replied, "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because I want to choose," she answered. He froze, looking over at her. He was silent a long moment.

"You've made your decision?" he uncertainly asked.

"I have," she replied. He shifted uncomfortably, eyes straying over to Frieda who was watching silently.

"Do you still love me like you once did?" she asked again.

After a long moment he turned to her. "That depends on your choice, Camilla. I will be loyal to you endlessly, if you choose me. Few things would thrill me more than to be your husband… but no, I don't love you like I once did," he replied.

"Thank you," she replied. "Let's go back." She turned, heading away.

"It's Faendal you love!" he suddenly called after her. She paused and turned. "It's always been him, hasn't it? I've known as much for so long… It's good… to have that closure…"

ES

"I choose," Camilla said as they returned to Faendal and Frieda. Frieda's body tensed and she closed her eyes tightly. Camilla loved Sven, Frieda knew she did… Camilla loved Sven… Frieda didn't want Camilla to love Sven. She loved him.

"Who do you choose?" Frieda questioned nonetheless.

"I choose Faendal," Camilla answered. Sven exhaled a sigh of something between relief and regret. It didn't hurt, though, as badly as he'd believed it would. "I choose Faendal," she repeated. He surged forward, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her in the air grinning.

"It's over," Sven remarked to Frieda.

"I'm glad," she replied.

"That's why you told the truth about the note I gave you to hand to Camilla, isn't it?" he asked.

She stiffened. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"I gave you a note in Faendal's name, to try and turn Camilla against him. At first you followed the plan, but when you saw how it was hurting Camilla to believe he'd said those things, you told her the truth. That wasn't the only reason though, was it?" he asked.

After a time Frieda turned to her. "I wanted her to hate you. I wanted her to hate you because I loved you, I wanted you," she answered.

He looked over at her and took her hands. "I'm glad you did what you did," he softly said. Gently he bent, kissing her lips ever so softly. "I'm glad you did what you did," he repeated again.