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"And then I took an arrow to the leg..." [NF & MT]

She was shocked when he found a vendor willing to sell them food when the rest of Solitude seemed to be shutting down already. She let him order for her, remaining silent in the background as usual, but accepted the food happily. As they walked she ate happily. In all honesty she was a tad starving, she hadn't walked this much in as long as she could remember and it really worked up an appetite. She hoped he didn't think her as gluttonous.

"It is good!" She agreed with a wide smile. Then he shifted back into gear and began discussing his plans. "Yes, but only look for my books if you can... if something more important comes up I will understand."
 
"Something more important? We are at the ends of the earth. Where else is he going to run to? And besides, he'll leave a trail. Revenge is something like a sword - it requires careful forging, slow making, and time. Because if you just cut someone down in the fit of passion, it doesn't carry the same weight as being able to do it smoothly, slowly. So yes, I am relaxed about finding him. Also, we need to find horses. Do you ride?"
 
She quirked a brow at him as he spoke of revenge in such a manner but declined comment. He was angry at the mage-thief and had a score to settle. She did not necessarily think it was healthy but commentary wouldn't help anything here.

"A horse?" She seemed excited to the thought of it. "No, I have never ridden a horse but I have always wanted to. I should think I would do okay. It will certainly make carrying my books a great deal easier." For both of them perhaps, if she accumulated enough of them.

The inn came into view at last and she paused outside of it and turned to look up at Kellen. "May I ask you a question?" She asked of him, seemingly out of nowhere. "The other day... you said I was the only reason you were staying in Dragon Bridge. Was that true?"
 
"Yes." he answered simply.

"I had not intended to go there. You'll recall me saying that I had gotten lost. I needed time to heal, time to gather supplies, and to warm up. None of these things take very long. Well, I don't think I'll ever be warm again in this province. At least not outdoors. And so when someone talks to me in a friendly manner when all the rest of the people turn their back, of course I'm interested. When I see someone who reads amongst a flock of illiterates, of course I'm curious. And when I see someone who looks beautiful even when they try and hide behind themselves, of course I stare. Does that answer your question?"
 
She watched him as he spoke, her eyes almost quivering with her internal thoughts. It was not the answer that she was expecting, or maybe was hoping for. "It sounds like you were just lonely... and I was a good lay." They were two different people from two completely different walks of life. If he had meant something else by his words Lorelle did not pick up on it. Perhaps he interpretation was incorrect... perhaps not.

She smiled at him. "I was just wondering." She turned to head into the inn.
 
"Well, you're not a good lay" he said, a grin forming around his lips as she could the sudden outrage building in her. "You're a great one. I don't believe in prophecy much, no guiding force, just making the best of any situation you find yourself in. And you seem to be doing that too."

He followed her inside, eyes on her butt and very much enjoying the view.

The inn had changed little since they had departed. The Breton bard was now playing her... whatever kind of instrument that was. It looked to have strings. She was sat by the fire and singing about heroic battles. The innkeeper was serving the few customers that there were this early.
 
When he started his sentence like that she pursed her lips, trying to hide any reaction to his statement as she withheld judgment about it. Then he redeemed himself and she rolled her eyes and continued her walk into the inn. She didn't pause downstairs and headed for the stairs, hips swaying with each step she took.

"And how would your kinsmen feel about your relationship with me?" She glanced back at him, expression somewhat indignant. "Would they be so calm about you fucking a nord?" She did not use that sort of language very often... but at the time it seemed appropriate. She entered their room and took a seat on the bed to begin taking off her shoes. It was relieving, she hated those things.
 
"I think some would cheer me on, some would laugh, and some would question why I couldn't find a nice Redguard woman. But then if anyone had an issue with it and said so out loud, I'd make them carry their teeth home in their pockets." he said simply. Violence was an embedded part of his cultural and personal world view that he thought little of it.

"What do you think about it?"
 
She listened to every word he spoke but didn't once look at him, busying herself with removing her shoes and undoing her hair from the small pin that held it back. She highly suspected he was being generous and most of his kinsmen would frown upon the relationship.They had their own way after all and nords were considered 'soft'.

She looked at him finally when he asked her opinion. "What do you think about you fucking me?" She clarified before pursing her lips. "I withhold judgment." In all honesty she did not know. Part of her felt it was bad... the other part of her had orgasmed on his dick and wanted to do it again. Then there was the part of her that did not fancy being thrown over a table any time he got too worked up. It was all very complicated.

She stood. "And while we're on the topic, you should not plant seeds you do not wish to grow, Kellen.." A pregnancy at this juncture would... be complicated. And certainly shameful.
 
He leant against the wall as he watched her.

"I think... that it is a rare individual that understands the darkness we carry. A rare individual that is so tolerant. But it does make me curious - why you put up with it. There are other women that would fight and snarl and scream and flee. Now, i know you think me dangerous. Why do you tolerate me taking you whenever I so wish?"

The next part of her comments made him grin.

"And if I want to plant seeds, what then?"
 
She brushed her hand through her hair, rubbing her head gently. The pin that held her hair back had been pinching her all day and it felt good to finally have it out. She set the pin on the side table and turned her attention to Kellen as he spoke. One leg lopped over the other, dress adjusted. "Because I understand you." She answered simply. "I understand the cravings of the beast. I know as long as he does not become enraged that I am safe. I am more important to him alive, than dead." She could have elaborated that understanding but that was for another day. "Besides, I have secrets too. If I'm willing to keep yours, you must keep mine as well." It was the only reason she told him to begin with.

That grin he gave her took her aback slightly, it was not the answer she was expecting in the least. "Then I suggest you return home and find a nice redguard woman to marry. Kids are not an option for me Kellen. You should know that. I'm surprised you're willing to entertain the thought."

She stood and moved to her bag to pull out one of her nightgowns which she laid on the bed. She then went through the quick process of untying the ribbon around her waist and sliding her dress off over her head so she could put on the nightgown and get ready for bed. It dropped to the floor next to her.
 
"Whilst I think your summation is partly true, I don't think it's the full story. I've felt how you've reacted, how wet you've become. I think it's more complicated than that. I think that in the books you've read, in the fantasies you've had, there's always been someone tall, dark, and handsome that's done that kind of thing. But you're not the two-dimensional heroine in these novels, meaning that you're not sure how to respond."

He detached himself from the wall and started to walk over to the bed, undoing his clothes as he did. He made a small, neat pile of them on the back of one of the chairs.

"You're also far too fatalistic. My people come from harsh deserts and live by the sword. We can always find something to look forward to. You're so full of this notion that you're a monster, that the best option for you is a quick death, and most damningly of all - that you have no future. The future isn't written. We write our own stories."

He sat on the edge of the bed, but didn't face her. "I couldn't live like you choose to"
 
She had to resist a roll of her eyes as she pulled the nightgown on over her head and situated it around her breasts. This one was just a little bit tight in that area, made for a smaller or perhaps, younger woman. She then moved her new clothes from the bed to one of the chairs around the table. He was so full of himself sometimes. "I don't know how to respond." She agreed, completely not arguing the point.

She moved to the bed and folded back the blankets on one side so she could slide in. After sleeping in a cave, this was luxury. "I'm not fatalistic Kellen I'm realistic." She argued back with him. Even while arguing though, her voice remained calm and her posture cool. She did not lose her temper easily. "I'm dangerous. You've not seen what I can do, you don't understand. I couldn't show you if I wanted to, I have no control. That is not a person that should be around other people, let alone that should be married, or have kids."

She sighed deeply and lifted her fingers to her forehead, rubbing. Calm calm calm calm.

"You know what kind of monster you are Kellen, I don't. I might walk into Winterhold looking for help and they might kill me where I stand. Why would I want to even pretend I have a future? At least this way I have nothing to lose."

Desperate words from a desperate woman.
 
He looked at her in silence and then stood, returning to where he had left his sword. He drew it with a single, fluid motion, and the patterned steel flashed dangerously in the flickering candle-light. He drew it up in what someone familiar with the weapon and the style would see as a salute. Someone who wasn't would probably assume it was the prelude to an attack.

And then he took hold of the blade, palm along the razor-edge, and sliced open his hand. Bright blood welled up around his hand as his eyes stayed locked on hers.

"I swear to you that I will find you a future. Make one if I have to."

And then he went to find cloth. He, of course, tended to the blade first, cleaning it and sheating it before he turned his attention back to his own hand.

Then, and only then, did he join her in bed, and wrap his arms around her. She looked like she needed a hug.
 
Lorelle leaned back in the bed as he drew his sword and gave her a salute. It was not the first time, and with any luck it would not be the last. Her blue eyes followed the motion of the sword as he brought it to his hand, slitting the skin there and spilling his own blood. Her eyes moved from his hand to his face to find he was staring intently at her. She straightened in the bed as she realized that, and then heard his pledge.

It made her heart ache, those words. She knew he meant well but she had come to terms with this fact a long time ago. You could not make a future where there was one. And if she remained as unpredictable as she was, what happened when he found her a future and she destroyed it? What would he do then? It was just too risky. She was better off on her own, for everyone's safety.

She watched him walk away to get a cloth and slid down in the bed, rolling onto her side. She stared silently at the wall on the other side. He was sweet when he wanted to be, she supposed. But he was promising things she did not feel he could make good on. When he slid into bed behind her and wrapped his arms around her she shut her eyes and let out a deep sigh. She again found herself with nothing to say. Kellen seemed to do that to her a lot.
 
"There is a saying amongst my people. How do you walk to a cloud? Well, you don't do it by standing still; but rather by taking the first step"

It made sense to him. But then Redguard history was routinely filled with warriors throwing themselves against impossible odds. Sometimes they won. Sometimes they died.

He didn't let go of her during the night, either, and woke with his arms still around her. His hand hurt, and he went to tend to the wound. Even with the healing that his curse gave him, the cut would sting for a few days. Urgh. Overly stupid, overly dramatic, but hopefully necessary.

He went off to find a toilet and returned with bread and cheese and tea. It seemed to be what this place offered for breakfast. Or maybe the locals were just teasing him. He set it down on the table next to her and chuckled softly.

"Time to face another dawn, Lorelle." For all his bravado, teasing, and directness, he was starting to feel... something for this woman. A connection? Her story was tragic. But then it was always darkest just before the dawn. And what kind of person abandoned someone just as the road got difficult.

He washed in the bucket provided, not noticing - or perhaps not caring - that she was watching. He knew she liked to watch. Shirt, then trousers, and then all the stupid extra furry layers needed to stay comfortable.

"Let's see if the bards are awake, shall we?"
 
Lorelle had slept relatively well from within his arms. She was still throughout the night and by the looks of it, throughout the morning as well. She did not even stir when Kellen pulled himself from the bed and walked around the room, tended to himself, left to get breakfast. After all of that when he returned she could still be found sleeping away from beneath the covers. The bed was heaven after that night in the cave and she quite didn't want to leave it.

His voice woke her but only just. She stirred ever so slightly and pulled the covers up over herself more without a word. She laid in bed a few moments longer, appearing to be asleep, and only opened her eyes when she heard him cleaning off. Her eyes cracked open to see his wet skin glistening in a window. She hazily watched him from her snug place in bed. Did she plan on getting up today? It was hard to tell. She watched him dress and after the show was over pulled the covers up and over her head.

"It is too early for bards to be awake." She reasoned with him. "They are up all night playing their instruments for certain affairs, so it is their natural regimen to sleep late and wake late." It was a lie, but she spoke it like a direct quote out of one of her books.

"Read a book." She added in, a small grin crossing her features from under the covers.
 
"Me dumb redguard. Me only eat book"

He said and stuck his tongue out at her. It was a gesture he'd seen Nord children make at each other as he'd wandered. In some parts of the world, it might be considered a challenge to combat.

"And if you, a Nord, wants to stay in bed, what about us southerners?" he said with a smile. "Unless, of course, you want me to drag you out. Or perhaps I should carry you around all wrapped up in a blanket and claim you to be some kind of mystical hermit?"

He leant forward and kissed whatever bits of her were visible from amongst the bedding.
 
She giggled sleepily from under the covers and finally pulled them down enough to let her head show and look at Kellen. She nodded at the mystical hermit idea, that would be okay provided she got to sleep while she was being carried, and he kept his voice down of course.

When he leaned down to hiss her head she moved her fingertips to catch the kiss before it landed, turning his head away from her. "Don't pretend to care for me while you try to wake me up." She chided at him playfully. "I really don't like these mixed signals you know."

She finally folded the covers back to reveal herself and sat up: the hermit arisen. "I'm up..." but her voice sure didn't sound like it. She glanced to the food he had set on the table and reached out for a piece of cheese, taking a quick bite before dramatically, her body fall backwards onto the bed again with a content sigh.

Well she couldn't be perfect all the time.
 
"Pretend to care for your? They're only mixed in your culture. From my perspective, they make perfect sense. Now, how would a Nord 'court' you? I assume by cutting down the mightiest tree in the forest and then building a giant snowman with it?!"

He was grinning broadly as he made up wild and deliberately silly cultural insults.

It was entertaining to watch her progress

"I'll come back within the hour, your highnessness. By then I might have learned how to use a harp and to peel an orange without touching it. And whatever else they teach at the bardic college. Failing that, there's a Breton bard downstairs. She might be a better way 'in' than just pitching up and shouting at people. But I'm rather direct in finding and getting what I want."
 
She gave no notion that she heard his wild insults about building a tree with a snowman other than a shake of her head. He was obviously a morning person, whereas she was just a person in this instance. She lifted a hand to make a motion with her arm at the roof above them and finally sat up once again, this time decidedly.

"I will expect nothing less." She mused off-handedly as he spoke of parlor tricks he would pick up at the bard college. Lorelle moved to the table to pick through her new clothing, chewing the side of her cheek as she considered them. The styles were much different than she was used to, but if it helped her 'fit in' and look more like an important person, they couldn't hurt. She would adapt.

"If you wish to leave me then so be it. If you think you can wait a few moments I'll get ready, I must look good after all. That does not happen just by rolling out of the bed. If you'd like to wait a few moments I'll allow you my presence." She looked back to him, waiting for his decision.

He still had to go to the palace which she intended for him to do alone, perhaps it was best if she was left behind for now.
 
He said nothing, but lounged against the wall. He clearly enjoyed watching her move, watching her dress.

"This looks nice. I like the fabric, too. It suits you." The compliments were awkward. His normal language wasn't one of fabrics, textiles, and fashion, and so he didn't know what was expected. So instead he stuttered through out, now feeling somewhat under-dressed.

"This is a question you may be able to answer. When you see me - someone obviously foreign - in your lands, what would you expect me to do? Try and pretend to dress and act like a Nord, or remain distinct?" he gestures to his own pile of clothes. "I've chosen largely based on pragmatism rather than anything, and I think I end up looking rather like a clown or a beggar. When outlanders visit Hammerfell, they dress in our style out of pragmatism." he stroked his chin as he watched her.
 
She picked her clothes today out of the small pile she had accumulated during her shopping trip the previous day. The dress she intended to wear was a vibrant, almost silky blue color. The thought that she would have to weed out some of the clothing she had brought to make room for her new clothing crossed her mind but she would get there when she got there.

She draped the dress she intended to wear over the bed and pulled her nightgown over her head to drop next to it. Shamelessly nude, she moved to the washing water and began to freshen herself up. She squeezed the cloth of water and gently dabbed at her neck as she considered her question.

"Well. I would expect that to change based on your motives here." She spoke aloud as she considered to bathe. "If you were here for just a short while I would not expect you to change your clothes or customs you're accustomed to. If you are here for an extended time, I would think you would want to blend in." Blend in... that was an interesting idea for the redguard. "Blending into what social class begs another question entirely."

Once she was done bathing herself she moved to the bed and lifted the dress (pictured below because I don't remember how to hotlink). She handled the material gently as she sought out the head hole and gently pulled it down her body and into place. In contrast to her other dresses it was quite form-fitting, clinging to every blessed curve on her body from the swell of her hips, the dip in her waist, the swell of her butt, and the dip in her lower back. Long, open sleeves fell about her elegantly. It was a breathtaking article of clothing that certainly hinted that Lorelle was on a higher tier of social class than she felt she was. That was her take on it anyway. She was nervous about buying it, because it was so different. She smoothed the fabric over her hips- not that she needed to- and looked at Kellen briefly. Her blue eyes sought his approval before she went to the mirror with her hair brush.

"I hope I better look the part you wish me to play." She murmured to him as she gently pinned back one side of her wavy red hair.


Dresstest
 
"I wish you to be only who you are. And you are beautiful in rags. But now you look elegant. I feel decidedly under-dressed. I don't know enough about your country - yet - to know what I should aspire to be here. Time will tell."

And with that, he offered her his arm, and walked her downstairs. The Breton bard and the innkeeper were both there, and stopped talking to look at her in wide-eyed appreciation.

"Truly your inn is magical, Corporius. They arrive looking like scruffy hedgedwellers, and at least one of them leaves looking like a noblewoman."

Kellen nodded in agreement, and then in a voice old L would be able to here murmured "See?"

The walk to the college was leisurely and easy, and the doors this time were open. The greeting they got, however, was less than welcome.

"Oh great. Another fucking Redguard. Are you here to steal stuff too? It's not like we've got all th..."

The objection came from a tall Nord woman with a severe looking face and sharp cheekbones. She stopped immediately in mid rant as she actually saw Kellen, and ran her eyes over him with an appraising glance, clearly liking what she saw.

"Well, hello. How can we help you two lovely people today?" her voice now had an almost purring quality to it.

For his part, Kellen whispered to Lorelle: "Careful. Werewolf"
 
She was was unable to hide her flush when he told her she was beautiful, but now looked elegant. She may have looked it but she still felt like the same Lorelle. She took his arm as if she had done it a thousand times before and proceeded downstairs with him.

The appreciation from the innkeeper and the Breton was... unwanted. Her eyes slid over them and then away, holding no particular emotion. They left with her not speaking a word. These people were so fixated on perceiving her based on her clothes or as Kellen had said, her confidence. It seemed unfair... she was still just Lorelle.

When they arrived to the college she looked surprised at the first words out of the woman's mouth. Another redguard, perhaps this was the one that Kellen was after. She noticed the look the woman gave him, an unmistakable up and down hungry look... it caused her lips to tighten into a deep frown as she tightened her arm on his own. Her head turned slightly to the side as he warned her that the woman was a werewolf.

Unfortunately Kellen had still not figured out that his kind didn't frighten her.

She looked from Kellen back to the woman but remained silent. This was Kellen's business, not hers.


And Kellen was her business.
 
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