Chapter 29: Remember
"It's an honor to serve you," Lydia said, her voice steady, yet quiet, like the calm before a storm. Her green eyes locked with mine, unwavering, as if already dedicating her soul to the words she spoke. The torchlight from behind her licked the steel of her armor, casting rippling gold against its clean, matte finish.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Balgruuf's voice cut through the moment with the casual authority of a man used to command. "I've informed the guards of your title," he said, stepping forward. "Wouldn't want them to think you're part of the common rabble now, would we?"
I gave a nod of thanks, and then the door creaked again.
Heavy boots thudded against the stone as a burly soldier emerged from the shadowed corridor, a battleaxe balanced across his shoulder. The weapon was large even for the giant of a man carrying it. The blade gleamed with an obsidian finish, etched with Nordic runes. The other side was a spearhead, the weapon was meant to cleave its enemy. The handle was wrapped with alloy, It's not for combat, I thought, it was useless because the wooden handle was covered with metal.
Balgruuf turned to me, his hand gesturing toward the axe. "And this weapon from my armory," he said, "to serve as your badge of office."
"We are honored to have you as Thane of our city, Dragonborn." He stepped closer and tapped my shoulder with a solid and firm hand. Recognition without pretense.
I reached toward the axe, running my fingers along the ancient steel for just a moment, and then it was gone, stored in my inventory.
Balgruuf's eyes lingered on me a moment longer, then swept to Irileth beside the Jarl's chair, and he spoke again, "Rest well. It's been a long day for both of you." He glanced at her, not as a Jarl to his guard, but as a friend.
With that, he turned on his heel, robes shifting with movement. "Back to business, Proventus," he muttered, already drifting into the tasks that lay ahead. Hrongar lingered a second longer, giving me a sideways wink and then shifting his glance toward Irileth, a low laugh rumbling from his throat before he disappeared down the steps after his brother.
The echo of their departure faded into the piney chill of the night, the torches and the fire column crackled, whispering to the open porch, to the wind passing by. The porch was clean now, servants had quietly erased the traces of the feast. Goblets gone, plates vanished, even the scent of roasted meat had swept away.
The night had deepened into a velvet-blue dome above, adorned with the northern light, waving in the sky like the water on a beach, behind it were the two moons, the larger one, Masser, also called the red moon, the smaller one, called Secunda, it resembled the moon from my world, only added to the charm of the sky.
Only three remained on the porch—myself, Irileth, and Lydia. Lydia had stepped aside, just far enough to give us space, but close enough that her shadow reached us. She stood at attention near one of the carved stone columns, her posture proud, but her eyes quietly flicking between us.
Irileth, however, had been watching Lydia with a gaze less neutral.
Her stance was tense, her arms folded, her fingers drumming against her leather vambrace. And then, with a voice that cut through the quiet like a dagger sliding from a sheath, she muttered, "If you sleep with her, I'm going to stab you with my dagger."
I stifled a cough, half laughing. "I'll keep that in mind."
I stepped toward her, the space between us shrinking with each quiet footfall on the stone. She didn't step back; she never does. I reached out, catching her wrist, and with a firm pull, guided her back against the stone guard wall that edged the porch. Her back touched the cold stone, but her eyes burned as they locked with mine, her breath hitched, not out of fear, but anticipation.
My head tilted so that I faced the vast northern sky, its stars like sentinels bearing witness. But she, she only saw me.
I leaned in, brushing my lips against hers, soft, gentle. The fire beneath her calm exterior surged in that moment, her hands gripping my cloak as her mouth crashed into mine; there was nothing soft or gentle about her. When I pulled back, it was only to press my lips against the column of her neck, to trace the line of her jaw with my breath until I reached her ear. I whispered low.
"Let her know,"
My tongue slicked the edge of her pointed ear, a deliberate caress that pulled a strangled moan from her lips. Her legs shifted slightly beneath her, her composure trembling like a stretched bow string let loose.
"I already have you," I whispered again, my voice thick with claim and possession. She trembled again, unable to contain herself.
Lydia, still watching from her post, was motionless—at first. Then, change, a blink, her pale cheeks slowly tinged with a flush. Her lips parted, just slightly. Her gaze softened, unsure whether to stay or leave. And though she finally cast her eyes to the stars, the sound of Irileth's breathless moans still reached her ears.
When I finally stepped back, Irileth was a mess, her lips reddened, parted, her breath uneven. Her glare that she retained after arriving here was replaced again, but instead of shame, it was hunger; her blood-red eyes gazed with lust and a hint of confusion, as if even she hadn't expected to fall so hard.
Her legs had tensed, one hand still gripping the wall behind her, the other clinging to her waist like she needed to hold herself together before she actually fell this time.
I chuckled, a low sound that made her scowl, more embarrassed now than angry.
"I'm going out to the marketplace, get some air," I said, brushing her hair back from her cheek as I leaned in again. She flinched, as though bracing herself for another kiss that never came.
"Wait for me," I whispered in her ear and pulled away, with a smirk.
.
.
The heavy oak doors of Dragonsreach groaned as they opened, the sound deep and old, like the yawn of an old man. I stepped out into the night air, Lydia's armored footsteps following close behind, each step measured to echo mine. The wind met us immediately, cold.
The fire columns painted the pools in golden light, leading down from the great hall.
Ahead lay the cloud district, named more for its splendor than height. It was a quiet part of Whiterun, sparse, dignified, untroubled for the most part.
On one side, nestled against the aged stone steps, stood Jorrvaskar, the hall of Companions, made with an upturned longship, its dark timbers scarred by the wind and time.
Beside it loomed the statue of Talos, carved in stone and greened by age. The statue caught the moonlight on its forehead like a crown.
Opposite the Companions' hall, the Temple of Kyanreth stood with simple elegance. Vines clung to its pale stone walls, and the scent of crushed herbs drifted faintly on the wind, a fragrance of healing and stillness.
In the middle was the Gildergreen, betraying its name with its dusty pink hue; it was quiet now, and no one sat on the benches that circled its gnarled trunk.
As I walked down the windy steps toward the Plains district, it was louder here. The clatter of boots on cobble, the barking of merchants packing up their goods, and children still out far too late chasing each other through the muddy ruts between houses. The smell was different: leather, sweat, boiled cabbage, and smoke. But it felt more alive, it felt better, reminding me of something I've never experienced.
I passed the stalls, many of them closed for the night, and let my eyes drift toward the Bannered Mare, its crooked wooden sign swaying in the breeze.
I was about to go in when, standing in the middle of the circle, I stopped, as the voices and footsteps blurred around me like waves crashing on a foreign shore.
My hand brushed the pommel of my sword, but my mind was elsewhere.
By the time I was out of my trance, I had forgotten something I should remember. How did I get on that cart? I couldn't remember the face of the man or god who had sent me here.
A sharp sting began to hurt my head as my eyes cleared, and I heard Lydia say, "My Thane. Are you alright?"
I nodded, "Too much thinking," I muttered under my breath. I turned from the square and stepped toward the Bannered Mare.
I needed a drink, a strong one.
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