"What the fuck just happened?" Sofia spluttered, seeing Lydia shrug her armoured shoulders while nervously tapping her fingers on the head of her axe.

  "Sofia, may I ask you a question?"

  "Sure, I'm all ears." Making her own way out of the ruin and ducking under the fallen beam in the doorway, she spared the huskarl a glance out of the corner of her eye. "Well, not literally of course."

  "Just… How much do you know about the Thane?"

  The honesty struck home as they both wandered down the short steps and onto the street. Neither of them had spoken more than a few dozen words to each other at a time, and Lydia had never asked Sofia anything in the week since they had met. It put a truly uncharacteristic pause to Sofia, her mouth opening and closing for a few moments as she struggled to transform her thoughts into words.

  Seeing the way she was tongue tied for once, Lydia moved alongside her, instinctively keeping in step with the smaller woman. Before they had even managed to get onto the street Kaius was gone, slipping around a corner several buildings away and vanishing from sight.

  "You've been travelling with him for what? Six months now?"

  "More or less." Sofia replied, chewing her lip. "We met last Autumn just before the snows."

  "Since he killed that dragon."

  "A month or so before that, but yes." The flint-like eyes of the huskarl bored into the side of Sofia's skull. "Look, I know what you are asking, but I don't have any answers. We met in the Whiterun stables, he gave me some clothes to stop me from being arrested... Again. We did a few jobs around town, ran an errand for Farengar, and the next minute I'm watching him go toe-to-toe with this great big lizard that killed dozens of soldiers in minutes. But before that? Nope, I don't have a clue."

  Trying desperately to keep her true thoughts hidden, she stole a glance at Lydia who scratched idly at the shaved portion of her skull. It was an obvious, and logical, unspoken agreement between herself and Kaius about not revealing his true nature to anyone, and there were other things about him that no one else knew. The night they ended up sharing drinks with Sanguine was close to the top of the list of things she couldn't tell another soul about. It rankled her. It rankled her very, very deeply, as keeping secrets had never been something she had ever been good at. In fact, keeping her mouth shut was almost an impossibility, which made it almost ludicrous to her, that she had managed to do just that for months.

  "So you know nothing of his previous life? No family? No friends? No home? No explanation on what he is doing in Skyrim?"

  "He has me as a friend. But, everyone needs someone like me." Again, those cold eyes burned a hole in Sofia’s skull, and the unease continued building. Keeping secrets was harder than she would have ever thought. "I know that he was at Helgen, and that despite what everyone says, so was Ulfric and a whole buncha Stormcloaks when a dragon burned it to the ground."

  "Is he a Stormcloak? I've seen the..." Lydia's voice trailed off as she lightly tapped a gauntleted hand against her chest.

  "No…” Thinking for a moment, Sofia went to shake her head before thinking better of it and shrugged instead. “At least… I don't think so. He's got that Legion brand under those scars of his, but he also never takes that amulet off.”

  Heat rushed to her face as she remembered that trip to Bleak Falls Barrow. While Sofia was comfortable with her own nudity, there was something extremely awkward about a particular memory that had a habit of forcing itself into her mind with infuriating regularity. After their encounter with the Thalmor prisoner train, they had stopped alongside a stream for Kaius to wash away the blood he was drenched in. Despite her best attempts she had managed to make things extremely awkward by walking down thinking he had finished bathing, when he most definitely hadn't.

  Besides the awkwardness of knowing exactly everything there was to know regarding Kaius's appearance, Sofia had seen the way that the amulet especially was some form of comfort for him. To the point where despite the Empire-wide ban against Talos worship and the increasing numbers of Thalmor Justiciars conducting inquisitions, didn’t worry him in the slightest.

  "So you really don't know." There was something in Lydia's tone that made Sofia twist and her anger bite down hard.

  "Look, miss all-high-and-mighty. Some people don't like talking about their past, and especially don't like asking others about theirs. So he's all mysterious, and neither of us know a damn thing about him, but he's looked out for me. Which is more than I can say about most people."

  Sofia saw the way that Lydia had shied back and her mood softened a little. She hadn't intended putting such acid into her tone but it seemed that she hadn't lost her touch in angering people.

  "I apologise. I didn't mean anything by it specifically." The polished metal breastplate covering Lydia's chest raised and lowered visibly, as she took a deep breath and released it, her face turning impassive once more. "He is a capable warrior."

  "Well duh. Anyone who punches on with a dragon and eats its soul is a bit of a hard arse."

  Looking over at Lydia, Sofia saw something in her expression that she couldn't quite put her finger on. Night was beginning to fall faster than they were expecting as they made their way through the streets of Morthal, and the clunks and thuds of doors and windows closing to the evening echoed just as loudly, as the creaking of lanterns being refilled with oil and lit. The shadows in the streets though, had nothing on the shadows that were growing on Lydia’s face as they walked.

  "Wait… Is there something wrong with him being able to handle himself in a fight?" The stare continued, but there was an obvious hint of something further in the mask of an expression the huskarl wore. Something in her mind clicked, and Sofia sucked in her cheeks in thought. "That’s a problem for you... Isn't it?"

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  Shrugging, Lydia refused to look anywhere but straight ahead, and it struck Sofia that it was somehow the most expressive she had ever seen the dour woman.

  "I'm his huskarl." The accent of Whiterun Hold turned the word into a growl, with all the emphasis and weight the title could manage. "I am oath-sworn to carry his burdens, whether they be metaphic- metamor-... Be real or not."

  "So you don't understand how you are meant to protect someone, who is in no need for protection?"

  The nod was almost imperceptible.

  "Most of my entire life, as soon as I was able to lift a weapon I have trained.” This nod was more distinct, but Lydia still didn't turn to look at Sofia at all. “My family are staunch traditionalists, and only those worthy enough are granted the title and honour of becoming huskarls in service of Whiterun Hold. Women… Women don’t get that honour.”

  “And yet… here you are.”

  “And here I am.” Under the professional, stoic exterior there were the hints of a smile but they were fleeting and Sofia struggled to determine whether they had existed at all. “I had to personally challenge every male member of my family in single combat to earn my place among them. I did it though. Bested my father. And my brothers. Even my cousins.”

  “Just how long did that take?”

  “A few hours.” The shrug again, was a mass of metal and muscle moving with a dull clank. “After it all, they accepted my claim to being a huskarl, but that was several years ago.”

  “Several years…” Sofia paused and thought for a moment, which seemed to be difficult with the day’s comparative lack of alcohol ensuring her thoughts were unlubricated. “You spent several years waiting to be sworn into service.”

  “Not many of the lords of Whiterun were willing to accept the oath of a woman.” This time there was true bitterness in Lydia’s tone, despite the fact her face didn’t shift in the slightest. “To be a huskarl means you swear to guard your charge and all they have, with your life. My honour, and the honour of my family rests on my ability to adequately serve the Thane, but… how am I to serve the Dovahkiin? Someone who utterly outmatches everyone in their prowess? I... I just don't know what I'm supposed to do."

  "Hey." The dulled clank of Sofia's elbow into Lydia's armoured ribs was audible, but for a second or two she was left rubbing at the limb. She used to think that Kaius had a penchant for being over-protected to the point of ridiculousness, but he was practically naked compared to the armour Lydia wore. "Your life and whatnot hasn't been a waste. You were chosen right? Out of everyone else, you were the one who old Gruffy chose as being the closest in skill and ability to a living legend! Me? I got drunk, lost my clothes and woke up in a puddle of horsepiss after he dropped his pack on me. You at least will have a mention when they sing songs about him in the years to come."

  "You've been by his side all this time though. You were there when he fought the dragon. You climbed the Seven-thousand-steps together."

  "Ugh, don't remind me." Her shiver was exaggerated and Sofia found herself unconsciously scratching at certain parts of herself. "I don’t want to see another dragon for the rest of my life, and I am still chafed from that damn mountain. I'm not even sure why I followed him in the first place."

  "To see the Greybeards?" Lydia suggested.

  "Phfft? What?" Shaking her head, Sofia leaned against the outside of the closest building, fumbling with her travelling pack and rummaging within it. "Fuck... No... I followed him because I was curious, and in case you hadn't noticed, he's sorta my meal ticket."

  An eyebrow raised fractionally and was the closest expression to disbelief that Lydia would show.

  "I didn't want to be left alone."

  The eyebrow remained.

  "He owes me a foot rub."

  Still no change.

  "Alright, fine… I like him. He's strong, brave, adventurous, really good looking if you can handle scars..." Seeing the way the trace of a smile plucked at the corners of Lydia's mouth and realising what she had said, Sofia nearly dropped the bottle that she had retrieved from her pack. "Er... I mean… I like him as a friend. Yeah… That’s it. He treats me like a person and equally shares the loot..."

  For a moment it was almost as though Lydia was going to roll her eyes, but instead the flat expressionless gaze returned.

  "Ahhh... Whatever." Using the bottle of mead to underline her words, Sofia pointed it at the Huskarl’s chest. "He still owes me a serious foot rub though."

  "So what are you going to do now?"

  "Now?” The wall thudded as she plopped her back against it again. “Now I'm going to keep following him, find this blowhards horn, and then wait for him in the tavern at Ivarstead while he goes up the mountain to sit in the snow. Or sleep on a rock. Or whatever the Greybeards got him to do that has let him speak dragon ever since."

  "I meant now."

  "Oh. You mean now, now?" She eyed the bottle of mead she managed to 'acquire' while Kaius wasn't looking. "I was contemplating on getting drunk."

  "To stop the headaches?"

  "I get drunk because it is fun, and that I enjoy it.” This time the stare that she afforded the Huskarl was deadly and jagged like a broadhead arrow. “Not because I feel sore or get headaches or whatever else you think. Certainly not because of Ma popping me out in the middle of the summer solstice."

  "Never mind me though,” Realising that she had said a little too much, she quickly took a massive swig from her bottle and felt better with the taste of mead on the tongue. “What are you going to do?"

  The silence was deafening and Lydia looked up the street. Only the rap-tap-tap, rap-tap-tap of her fingers on the head of her axe hanging in its loop of leather at her waist showed any sign of her thoughts.

  "I'm going to go find the Thane." She said finally.

  "Why?"

  "Because it is my duty." Their eyes met each other's and the tiniest of twitches ran down Lydia’s body. "And because I think that despite how we feel about that before… I think that he is right."

  "You two really have got being killjoys down to a fine art. You know that right?"

  "Are you coming?"

  "No. Why would I follow you?" Seeing the way that Lydia had actually turned in shock, Sofia laughed, startling herself with how loud it echoed in the street. "I'm just kidding of course."

  Her pack returned over a shoulder and she continued sipping away at her bottle as she stepped alongside Lydia's steel-clad figure.

  "Let's go see what trouble we can stir up."