Chapter Text
Chapter 12
In the Quiet Hours
Not much time passed before the carriage arrived at the village of Riverwood. Itzel woke naturally as she felt the motion of the carriage cease. The driver left her and Kaidan in front of the Sleeping Giant Inn and promised to return tomorrow afternoon. Despite their attempts to tip him, the driver assured them that he had already been fully compensated by the Jarl. With a warm smile, he wished them a good night’s rest and departed into the darkness.
“We’ll return the claw in the morning when the shop opens,” Kaidan remarked, holding the door to the inn open for his companion. Itzel gave an appreciative nod and walked inside. The inn was mostly quiet, with only a few patrons lingering by the fire, but they were still able to order their rooms, which came with free bath keys. However, even if she had wanted to bathe, Itzel was much too exhausted. She bid Kaidan goodnight and slumped onto her bed. Deathsong and her satchel lay sprawled across the table, untouched. Soon, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
The sound of a knock on her bedroom door shot Itzel upright. Her heart raced as she recalled the events of the previous day. Still groggy, she walked over to the door and opened it cautiously. To her surprise, she was greeted by a familiar face.
“Camilla!” Itzel exclaimed, her tension easing. “What a pleasant surprise, I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
The brunette spun around with a playful smile, presenting herself like a prize. “That’s me,” she grinned. “Your friend took the liberty of delivering the claw back to us this morning. He mentioned you were staying here, so I wanted to thank you personally. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
Itzel relaxed further, the warmth of Camilla's presence helping to shake off the remnants of sleep. “No worries. And you're welcome. It was… definitely an adventure getting that thing back.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Camilla smirked knowingly. “Kaidan made sure to tell Lucan all about it—how you almost died several times, in great detail.”
Itzel chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Yeah, he can be, uh, vocal.”
Camilla’s expression softened, her tone becoming earnest. “Seriously though, thank you. That claw meant a lot to Lucan. I can’t imagine what you both went through. I made sure my brother compensated your friend well. If there’s anything you need from the shop, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I appreciate that,” Itzel replied, touched by Camilla’s sincerity.
After dressing in clean clothes, Itzel followed Camilla outside. The morning sun bathed Riverwood in a soft, golden light, and the village was just beginning to stir. Camilla led her to a quiet spot by the stream, where the water flowed gently over smooth stones, creating a soothing melody. The two women sat on the grassy bank, the cool breeze carrying the scent of pine and wildflowers.
“It’s peaceful here,” Itzel remarked, gazing out at the water.
Camilla nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “It is. Sometimes I forget how lucky we are to live in a place like this. The world beyond can be so chaotic.”
Itzel glanced at Camilla, noticing the way the sunlight caught in her dark hair, casting a warm glow over her features. “Do you ever think about leaving? Seeing what else is out there?”
Camilla smiled wistfully, dipping her fingers into the cool water. “Sometimes. But Riverwood is home. And I’ve got responsibilities here, especially with Lucan and the shop. Besides, the world can be a dangerous place. I’m not as brave as you.”
Itzel shook her head. “Bravery isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes I think it’s just stubbornness.”
Camilla laughed softly. “Maybe. But still, you went out there and faced gods-know-what for a silly trinket. That takes guts.”
The conversation lapsed into a comfortable silence, the sound of the stream filling the gaps. Itzel found herself reflecting on the events of the past few days—on Kaidan, the journey, and the dangers they had faced together. She was grateful for this quiet moment, a brief respite from the chaos.
“You and Kaidan make a good team,” Camilla observed after a while, her tone light but curious.
Itzel blinked, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks at the unexpected comment. “We do, don’t we? He’s… different. Strong, capable. I’m lucky to have him watching my back.”
Camilla smiled knowingly but didn’t press further. “It’s good to have someone you can rely on out there. Not everyone has that.”
Itzel nodded, her thoughts drifting to Kaidan. For now, she was content to leave it as it was—a partnership forged in fire and blood.
“Thanks for this,” Itzel said, breaking the silence as she stood up. “It’s nice to just sit and talk. I needed that.”
"Anytime," Camilla replied warmly, her eyes fluttering to the leaves of the branches above them. Suddenly, Itzel hesitated, a thought weighing on her mind.
“Camilla, do you happen to have access to a courier?” Itzel asked, her voice laced with a hint of urgency.
Camilla nodded, sensing the importance of the request. “Of course. We have one that passes through regularly. Do you need to send something?”
“Yes, I’d like to send a letter to a friend back in Sunlith,” Itzel explained. “It’s important.”
Camilla reached into her satchel and pulled out a small diary. She flipped through the pages, then ripped out several blank ones. She also withdrew a feathered quill. “Here, you can use these. I’m afraid I don’t have any ink with me, though.”
Itzel smiled, appreciating the gesture. “No need to worry about that.” Holding out her hand, she concentrated for a moment, murmuring a soft incantation under her breath. A small pool of dark ink formed in her palm, swirling gently before solidifying into a usable state. It was a simple trick she’d learned from her mother, Vilreni, during their homeschooling sessions. She dipped the quill into her inky hand and began writing.
As Itzel carefully penned her thoughts onto the pages, Camilla didn’t peer, giving her some privacy. The brunette’s gaze wandered to the stream, the sound of flowing water soothing her mind as she allowed Itzel the time she needed.
The letter was not long, but it was heartfelt. Itzel's thoughts were with her adopted mother, Vilreni, who she realized now that she missed dearly. She wrote about her journey, the dangers she had faced, meeting Kaidan, and the hope that still lingered in her heart about finding Rideria. But more than anything, she wrote about the longing to see her mother again, to hear her voice and feel her comforting presence.
When she finally finished, Itzel folded the pages carefully and handed them to Camilla. “Thank you,” she said softly. “This means a lot.”
Camilla smiled and tucked the letter safely into her satchel. “I’ll make sure it gets sent out right away.”
Itzel gave her a grateful nod. “I really appreciate it, Camilla.”
They shared a moment of quiet understanding before Camilla broke the silence. “Come on, let’s go find your friend. I’m sure he’s up to something.”
✷ ✷ ✷
Itzel and Camilla walked side by side, the sounds of the village greeting them as they approached Alvor’s home. The blacksmith's forge was alive with activity, the rhythmic clang of hammer against metal echoing through the air. Kaidan stood nearby, deep in conversation with Alvor, both men looking serious but at ease. As Itzel and Camilla neared, the men noticed them, and Kaidan's intense gaze softened slightly.
Alvor was the first to speak, a warm smile forming on his weathered face as he wiped his hands on a dirty rag. "Ah, Itzel! Just the person I was hoping to see." He nodded in appreciation. "I heard from Kaidan here about your bravery. You both did Riverwood a great service, and for that, I’m deeply thankful."
Itzel returned his smile, though her thoughts were more somber. "We did what we could, Alvor. The village deserves to be safe."
The blacksmith glanced toward the gates, where a small contingent of Whiterun Hold Guards were stationed. Their presence was a welcome sight, offering a sense of security to the small village. "The Jarl’s men arrived this morning," Alvor continued, his tone serious. "They’ve been keeping a close watch, making sure there’s no trouble. It’s a relief to see them here."
Kaidan shifted slightly, his expression more guarded as he turned to Alvor. “Did you make peace with Hadvar?” There was a pause, the weight of the question hanging in the air. “Did you… find his remains?”
Alvor’s face fell, the warmth in his eyes dimming as he looked down at the ground. Camilla’s face also turned into a knowingly somber expression. The blacksmith sighed heavily, his voice thick with grief. "Aye, we did. What was left of him, anyway. We brought him back here yesterday. Gave him a proper burial, up on the hill overlooking the village. He deserved that much, at least."
Kaidan clenched his jaw, nodding slowly. “I’m sorry, Alvor. He was a good man. Didn’t deserve what happened.”
Alvor’s gaze met Kaidan’s, a mix of sorrow and acceptance in his eyes. “None of ‘em did. But Hadvar… he was always brave, even as a boy. He wouldn’t have run, even if he had the chance. That’s just the kind of man he was.”
Itzel stepped forward, her voice soft but steady. “I’m truly sorry for your loss, Alvor. At least he wasn’t alone in the end.”
Alvor gave her a grateful nod, though the pain in his expression remained. “Thank you, lass.”
There was a brief silence, filled only by the distant sounds of the village. Then, Alvor straightened, trying to shake off the weight of his grief. "You both did more than anyone could ask for. If you ever need anything—anything at all—this village stands with you."
Kaidan nodded, his voice gruff. “Thank you, Alvor. We’ll remember that.”
Alvor cleared his throat, his tone turning more practical. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. The guards are stationed here, and they’ll do their part. If you need supplies before heading out, just let me know.”
With that, the conversation wound down, and Itzel gave a final nod of respect to Alvor before she and Kaidan turned to leave. There was a sense of closure—at least for now. They could take solace in the fact that they had done right by Riverwood and by Hadvar’s memory.
"Well, I suppose this is where we part ways again," Camilla said, her tone light but with a hint of sadness as the three of them neared the edge of the village. "Thank you again for everything."
Itzel returned her smile, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the woman. "Take care of yourself, Camilla."
Camilla nodded, her smile widening. "You too, Itzel. And make sure that handsome companion of yours doesn’t get into too much trouble." She shot Kaidan a teasing glance before giving Itzel a quick hug.
Kaidan smirked, shaking his head as Camilla turned to leave. "Trouble? Me? She doesn’t know me very well, does she?"
Itzel laughed softly as they walked back toward the carriage, which had returned and was waiting for them. The driver greeted them with a nod, and they climbed into the back of the wagon, settling in for the ride back to Whiterun. As the carriage began to roll forward, the village of Riverwood slowly disappeared behind them, replaced by the dense forests and winding paths leading back to the city.
The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the path ahead. The air was crisp, with the scent of pine and earth filling their senses. Itzel leaned back against the wooden seat, feeling the gentle sway of the carriage beneath her.
Kaidan reached into his satchel and pulled out the Dragonstone, inspecting the ancient artifact with a critical eye. "This thing better be worth the hassle," he muttered, turning the stone over in his hands. "Farengar’s all talk, and none of it’s any good. If it weren’t for the Jarl, I’d have told him to shove this damned rock up his—"
Itzel raised an eyebrow, cutting him off with a playful smirk. "Always so eloquent, Kaidan."
He chuckled, his crimson eyes meeting hers with a mischievous glint. "Just bein’ honest. You saw how he was. The Jarl better have somethin' good lined up for us. I'm not riskin' my neck for a few coins and a pat on the back."
Itzel nodded, her gaze drifting back to the Dragonstone. The ancient carvings on its surface were complex, likely telling stories of long-forgotten times. "You’re right. But I can’t help but wonder… What’s next after all this? What do we really want from it?"
Kaidan's expression softened slightly as he regarded her. "For me, gold." He paused, his gaze traveling over her face, noting the way her lips pursed in thought, the way the light danced in her hazel eyes. "But you’ve got that look in your eye. Like you’re figurin’ it out."
Itzel met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat. There was something in the way he looked at her, something that made her feel both exposed and understood. She quickly looked away, trying to focus on the passing trees and the sound of the carriage wheels on the dirt road. "I don’t know what I want other than finding my sister," she admitted quietly. "But I’m starting to think it’s more than just surviving."
Kaidan’s smirk returned, though it was tempered with a seriousness that hadn’t been there before. "Well, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. Just don’t let that bastard Farengar get in your head too much. He’s got a way of makin’ everything sound more important than it is."
Itzel chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest at his words. There was something comforting in the way he spoke, in the way he seemed to understand her even when she didn’t fully understand herself. They both relaxed as the carriage continued its journey through the forest.
The trees began to thin as they approached the outskirts of Whiterun, the towering walls of the city coming into view in the distance. Itzel let her mind wander, considering what she wanted from all of this—from the journey for Rideria, from the people she was meeting, from the future that lay ahead. The world was vast and uncertain.
✷ ✷ ✷
As the heavy wooden doors of Dragonsreach creaked open, Itzel and Kaidan stepped into the grand hall. The midday sun streamed through the high windows, casting long beams of light across the stone floor. The air inside was cool, and the faint echo of their footsteps accompanied them as they walked. At the far end of the hall, Jarl Balgruuf sat on his throne, engaged in a quiet conversation with Farengar, who appeared deep in thought.
As the two approached, Farengar looked up, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the Dragonstone in Kaidan’s hands. Jarl Balgruuf, however, leaned back in his throne, a smug smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
“Ah, I knew you two would return victorious,” Balgruuf remarked, his voice carrying a tone of satisfaction. “It seems my faith in you was well-placed.”
Kaidan, however, was not in the mood for pleasantries. He strode up to Farengar and dropped the heavy stone tablet onto the table with a resounding thud that reverberated through the hall. “You forgot to mention a few small details,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like the cheerful welcoming committee of ancient draugr ready to slice my head off for your precious rock.”
Farengar blinked, momentarily taken aback by Kaidan’s bluntness. “Ah, well, you see, such things are...unpredictable,” he began, trying to maintain his composure.
Kaidan let out a dry laugh, crossing his arms. “Unpredictable, is it? Nearly getting skewered by undead guardians wasn’t exactly in the brochure. Next time, maybe consider giving more of a heads-up before sending folks on a one-way trip to the afterlife.”
Before the tension could escalate further, Itzel stepped forward, a slight smile on her lips. “Thank you for the Frost Ward spell, Farengar. It saved us more than once.” Her words were genuine, and she glanced at Kaidan, who raised an eyebrow, surprised that Farengar had been of any help at all.
The Jarl chuckled softly, clearly amused by the exchange. “You’ve done a great service to Whiterun. Now, let’s talk about your reward.” He turned his attention to Kaidan, his expression becoming more serious. “What do you desire?”
Kaidan paused, his gaze steady as he considered his response. “Gold’s fine,” he said finally, though there was a subtle edge to his voice that suggested perhaps he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the transaction. “But I don’t want to get anymore caught up in your court’s politics.”
Balgruuf’s expression didn’t change. He wasn’t about to make any promises, not when the threat of dragons loomed over Skyrim. “You’ll be compensated fairly, Kaidan. But this dragon business… it may demand more from all of us.”
Kaidan frowned slightly but said nothing more. He knew better, as a man, than to push further in his majesty’s own castle.
The Jarl then turned to Itzel, his demeanor warm but inquisitive. “And you, Itzel? What is it that you seek?”
Itzel didn’t hesitate. “I need help finding my sister, Rideria. She’s gone missing, and I believe the Thalmor may be involved.” She explained the situation with a determination that didn’t waver, her voice carrying a quiet urgency.
Jarl Balgruuf listened carefully, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. After a moment, he nodded. “The Thalmor...they’ve been a thorn in Skyrim’s side for some time now. This is a matter that cannot be ignored.”
He paused, considering his options before continuing. “I will send word to my allies in Solitude and Windhelm, requesting information on any unusual Thalmor activity. Additionally, I’ll have a few of my most trusted guards discreetly investigate the areas where your sister was last seen. If there is any trace of her, we’ll find it.”
Itzel felt a wave of relief and gratitude wash over her. “Thank you, my Jarl,” she said sincerely.
“You’ve earned it,” Balgruuf replied. “Both of you. I understand the risks you took, and I don’t take that lightly.”
He then stood, his posture commanding yet welcoming. “You are both invited to stay here in Dragonsreach tonight as honored guests. We’ll have a feast in your honor this evening. You’ve more than earned it.”
The prospect of a warm meal and a comfortable bed after the trials they’d faced was a welcome one. Kaidan, though still wary of courtly affairs, nodded in agreement, while Itzel couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Two servants stepped forward, bowing slightly as they were instructed to lead Kaidan and Itzel to their quarters. They ascended a grand staircase, the stone steps echoing softly underfoot. The opulence of Dragonsreach surrounded them, with tapestries hanging on the walls and flickering torches casting warm light along the corridor.
Kaidan’s room was on one end of the hallway, while Itzel’s was on the other. As they reached the doors to their respective rooms, the servants bowed and quietly departed.
Itzel turned to Kaidan, offering a small, tired smile. “I guess we should get some rest before tonight.”
Kaidan nodded, his expression softening slightly. “Aye. Rest up, Itzel. You heard the Jarl - we’ve earned it.”
With that, they parted ways, each retreating into the comfort of their rooms. Itzel pushed the heavy wooden door open, stepping cautiously into the room that had been prepared for her.
Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her—a luxurious space that seemed to belong more to a queen than a wandering adventurer. The soft glow of the afternoon sun streamed through a large window, casting warm, golden light across the rich tapestries that adorned the stone walls.
She let the door close softly behind her, her fingers lingering on the smooth, polished wood for a moment before she took a tentative step forward. Her boots sank into a plush rug, its intricate designs a burst of color beneath her feet. She kicked off her boots and wiggled her toes, enjoying the softness for a moment before moving further into the room.
The bed caught her eye next, and she couldn’t resist walking over to it, her hand reaching out to touch the fine linens that draped over the grand four-poster frame. The crimson and gold fabric was cool under her fingers, and she traced the delicate embroidery with a sense of awe.
With a playful smile, she threw herself onto the bed, landing on her back and letting out a soft laugh as she sank into the plush mattress. The canopy above her head was embroidered with tiny stars, and she stared up at them, feeling a bit like a child who had wandered into a fairy tale.
After a few moments of indulgence, she rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow to take in the rest of the room. Her gaze fell on the fireplace, where a fire crackled softly, its warmth reaching out to her even from across the room. She could feel the tension in her shoulders begin to ease as she watched the flames dance.
Curious, she slid off the bed and padded over to the polished oak wardrobe that stood tall against one wall. She pulled the doors open, revealing a collection of luxurious robes and garments. Her fingers brushed over the fine fabrics, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of herself wearing such finery. “Maybe later,” she muttered to herself, closing the wardrobe with a grin.
She wandered over to the seating area by the fire, her eyes landing on the silver tray that held a carafe of wine and two goblets. With a raised eyebrow, she poured herself a small amount of wine, savoring the rich aroma before taking a sip. The warmth of the drink spread through her, adding to the sense of comfort that the room seemed to offer.
Her exploration finally led her to the bathroom, where she found a deep, stone-hewn bath already filled with steaming water.
Finally! She thought, amused. The one private bath in all of Skyrim.
She touched the surface of the water with her fingers, relishing the warmth. The scent of fragrant oils filled the air, and she felt a pang of longing to sink into the bath and wash away the grime of her journey.
Itzel slipped out of her worn clothes and sunk into the deep water, allowing it to envelop her completely. She couldn’t deny the sense of comfort it brought, but it also felt strange—like she was playing a part in someone else’s life.
Still, she allowed herself to sink deeper into the bath, the hot water easing the tension from her muscles and the fragrant oils soothing her senses. The steam curled up around her, creating a warm, comforting cocoon that made the worries of the world seem far away. She closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift as she soaked in the warmth. The events of the past few days played through her mind, but here, in this private sanctuary, they seemed less overwhelming.
She lost track of time, her mind slipping into a peaceful haze as the water worked its magic. It wasn’t until she heard a soft knock on the door that she stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and a young servant girl entered the room, her steps light and careful.
“Good evening, my lady,” the brunette girl greeted with a respectful bow. “The Jarl has sent me to help you prepare for the feast.”
Itzel blinked, momentarily disoriented as she recalled where she was. “Oh, of course,” she replied, sitting up slightly in the bath. “I must have lost track of time.”
The servant girl offered a gentle smile as she approached the bath. “It’s quite understandable, my lady. The waters here have a way of making one forget their troubles.”
Itzel nodded in agreement. “That they do. And please, just call me Itzel.”
The girl hesitated, her smile widening. “As you wish, Itzel. My name is Alana.”
Itzel hesitated for a moment as she prepared to step out of the bath. The warm water clung to her skin, and for a brief second, she felt a wave of self-consciousness wash over her. She had never shown her naked body to a complete stranger before. The thought made her stomach flutter with nerves.
But as she looked at Alana, who stood waiting with a thick, soft towel in hand, Itzel noticed the servant's composed and professional demeanor. There was no judgment in the girl’s eyes, only the practiced patience of someone who had done this a thousand times before. Itzel took a deep breath, summoning her courage, and stepped out of the bath.
Alana immediately wrapped the towel around her, the fabric warm and comforting against her damp skin. The servant’s hands were gentle but efficient as she began to dry Itzel off, and to her surprise, Itzel found herself relaxing. This wasn’t so bad, after all.
As Alana worked, Itzel’s initial discomfort faded, replaced by a sense of acceptance. She realized that the servant was simply doing her job, and there was no need to feel embarrassed. The professionalism and care Alana showed put her at ease, and Itzel allowed herself to enjoy the luxury of being attended to.
Once she was dry, Alana brought over the luxurious gown—a deep emerald green dress with intricate gold embroidery along the hem and neckline. “This gown was selected especially for you,” Alana explained as she began helping Itzel into the dress. “The Jarl wanted you to feel at home here, even if just for the night.”
Itzel couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship of the gown as she slipped into it. The fabric was smooth and cool against her skin, and it fit her perfectly, as if it had been tailored just for her. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, smoothing down the front of the dress. “I’ve never worn anything like it.”
Alana chuckled softly as she adjusted the gown’s waistline. “You wear it well, Itzel. The color suits you.”
“Thank you,” Itzel replied, her tone sincere.
Alana began working on Itzel’s hair, her fingers weaving through the long, damp strands with practiced ease. She gathered sections of Itzel’s hair, twisting them into elegant braids that she pinned up, leaving a few loose tendrils to frame her face. The servant girl’s touch was gentle but firm, and Itzel found herself relaxing under her care.
“Where are you from, Alana?” Itzel asked, curious about the thin girl who was so adept at her task.
“Originally from Morthal,” Alana answered as she finished the last braid. “But I’ve been working here in Whiterun for a few years now. My mother served in the Jarl’s court, and when she passed, I took up her duties.”
“I’m sorry to hear about your mother,” Itzel said softly.
“Thank you,” Alana replied, her voice steady. “She was a good woman. I’m proud to follow in her footsteps.”
The two women shared a brief moment of silence, the only sound being the crackling of the fire in the nearby hearth. Itzel admired Alana’s strength and dedication, finding a kindred spirit in the young servant.
“There we are,” Alana said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “You’re ready for the feast, Itzel.”
Itzel looked at herself in the mirror, almost not recognizing the woman staring back at her. The gown clung to her curves in all the right places, the rich emerald fabric highlighting her smooth, tanned skin along with the Jade Dewdrop. The intricate gold embroidery along the hem and neckline added an air of elegance, while the exposed back of the dress revealed the delicate arch of her spine. Her long, dark hair had been expertly braided and pinned, softening her features and drawing attention to her striking hazel eyes.
She looked stunning, every inch a woman who belonged in a place like Dragonsreach. The gown accentuated her figure. The deep green of the dress brought out the warmth in her eyes, and the way it hugged her body made her appear both regal and alluring. The transformation was undeniable—she was a vision of beauty, her reflection almost unrecognizable.
But as much as she appreciated the transformation, she knew this wasn’t who she truly was. The elegance, the luxury, the sense of belonging in such a grand place—it felt like a mask, one that she could wear for the night, but one that wouldn’t change the core of who she was.
“Thank you, Alana,” Itzel said, turning to face the girl. “I feel like a different person.”
Alana smiled knowingly. “Perhaps that’s the point, even if just for tonight.”
Itzel returned the smile, feeling a mix of gratitude and unease. “You might be right.”
With one final glance in the mirror, Itzel took a deep breath and turned towards the door. “Shall we?”
Alana nodded and opened the door for her. “The Jarl and the others are waiting in the hall. I’ll lead the way.”
Itzel followed Alana out of her quarters, feeling the anticipation of the evening ahead. As they walked down the grand hallway, she couldn’t help but wonder what the night would bring—and how much of herself she would need to keep hidden behind the mask of luxury and politeness.
Itzel stepped into the grand hall, the beauty of her gown drawing the eyes of every guest present. Conversations hushed, and a palpable curiosity filled the air as all attention turned toward her. The hall, bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers, was a vision of opulence. The high stone walls were adorned with tapestries, and the grand table, set for a feast, was filled with important figures of Whiterun. Bards, each skilled in their own musical instruments, played cheerful orchestrated melodies that added to the invigorating atmosphere.
At the head of the table sat Jarl Balgruuf, flanked by his children and Irileth, his ever-watchful housecarl. Farengar Secret-Fire sat to one side, absorbed in his own thoughts even amidst the gathering, his gaze occasionally flicking toward the magical trinkets set before him. Itzel’s eyes traced the room, studying the various nobles and their extravagant garments. That’s when her gaze fell on one man who captured her attention.
Kaidan.
He stood near the far end of the hall, leaning casually against one of the grand pillars, yet there was nothing casual about the way he looked at her. His dark, noble attire fit him perfectly, the sleek black fabric emphasizing his strong build. The leather pieces adorned with subtle metal details added a rugged edge to his appearance, a reflection of the warrior within the polished exterior. His crimson eyes were locked onto hers, a brilliant shade of red to the muted tones around him, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the room faded away.
Their eyes met, and the intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. Something unspoken passed between them—a silent acknowledgment, a recognition that neither could fully deny. He looked handsome, powerful, and dangerously alluring, the kind of man who could command any room he entered.
He allowed himself a small, almost imperceptible smirk, a gesture that was more about amusem*nt than anything else, but one that he knew would get under her skin in just the right way.
The moment was charged, electric, but it was quickly interrupted by the Jarl’s voice, welcoming her to the feast. Itzel turned her attention to the Jarl, but even as she did, the tension between her and Kaidan lingered in the air, dark and suggestive, a promise of something more that neither was quite ready to admit.
Kaidan watched her for a moment longer, his gaze still lingering on her as she spoke with the Jarl. Then, his view was interrupted by a few noble ladies who had taken notice of him, each one eager to catch his attention. They fluttered around him, their eyes bright with interest, drawn to the tall, dark, and mysterious allure he exuded.
His jet-black hair was perfectly tousled, framing a face that many could describe as being chiseled from stone—sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and a mouth that always seemed on the verge of a smirk. His eyes were deep embers which held an intensity that made the women around him swoon, as if they were privy to a secret they longed to uncover.
The ladies giggled and fawned over him, their voices a mix of flattery and coquettishness, but Kaidan, ever the gentleman, responded with a few polite words, his tone smooth and controlled. He wasn’t one to be easily flustered by attention, and while he entertained their advances with a charming smile, it was clear that his interest lay elsewhere.
His broad shoulders and muscular frame were accentuated by the sleek, dark attire he wore tonight. His presence was magnetic, drawing in glances from across the room, and the noblewomen couldn’t resist the urge to be near him, to bask in the aura of danger and intrigue that surrounded him.
Itzel, now more aware of the scene unfolding around Kaidan, couldn’t help but notice the commotion he was causing. The way the women flocked to him, the way their eyes lit up when he spoke—it was impossible to ignore.
She felt a strange mix of emotions as she observed the interaction: amusem*nt at their obvious infatuation, irritation at the way she kept staring at the scene unfold, and something else that she couldn’t quite place.
She turned back to her conversation with the Jarl, trying to focus, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Kaidan. There was no denying the effect he had on people, shamefully herself included, and it was clear that his charm wasn’t lost on the ladies of the court.
As the evening wore on, the noblewomen continued their attempts to court Kaidan, but his gaze would occasionally drift back to Itzel, his expression unreadable but intense, as if he was silently reminding her that despite the distractions around him, he hadn’t forgotten about her.
The long tables in the grand hall were now laden with a feast fit for kings. Roasted venison, dripping with savory juices, sat alongside platters of seasoned boar, its crackling skin glistening under the warm glow of the chandeliers. Pheasants stuffed with herbs and berries were surrounded by bowls of steamed vegetables, rich gravies, and freshly baked breads. The scent of spiced honeyed mead filled the air, mingling with the aromas of the feast, creating an atmosphere of indulgence and celebration.
Golden chalices and ornate goblets clinked together as they were filled with the finest wines and ales, while bowls of fresh fruits—apples, pears, and berries—provided a splash of color among the darker meats and sauces. Sweetrolls and glazed pastries were piled high on silver trays, tempting even the most disciplined guests to indulge.
The Jarl, seated at the head of the table, raised his goblet and smiled at his guests. “Before we begin,” he announced, his voice carrying over the murmur of conversation, “I must insist that our honored guests share their tale. We have all heard whispers of dragons returning to Skyrim, but these two have faced one head-on. Let us hear it from them.”
All eyes turned to Itzel and Kaidan, who were seated near the Jarl. Itzel hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the room’s anticipation, but the encouraging nod from the Jarl urged her to speak.
She took a deep breath and began. “It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “The dragon... it was immense, its scales as black as night, glimmering in the sunlight as it soared above us. The wingspan alone was enough to block out the sun, casting everything in shadow. And the sound... it was like thunder, a roar that shook the very ground beneath our feet.”
The children seated near the Jarl’s throne leaned in closer, their eyes wide with wonder, while the nobles listened with a mix of fascination and unease. Itzel continued, describing the heat of the dragon’s breath as it scorched the earth, the fear that gripped her as she watched it decimate Helgen, and the sheer power that radiated from the beast.
“But it wasn’t just the size or the strength that was terrifying,” she added, her gaze distant as she recalled the moment. “It was the intelligence in its eyes. It wasn’t just a creature of instinct... it was cunning, calculated. It knew exactly what it was doing.”
The room fell silent, the only sound the crackling of the fire in the hearth, as the weight of her words settled over the guests.
Kaidan, who had been listening intently, finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying a gravitas that commanded attention. “Dragons are more than just ancient myths,” he said, his eyes locking onto Itzel’s. “They’re a force of nature, one that doesn’t care about our politics or our petty squabbles. They exist to remind us of our place in the world—and that’s something which would be dangerous to forget.”
The Jarl nodded thoughtfully, clearly pleased with Kaidan’s words, and the room buzzed with murmurs of agreement. Farengar, who was seated next to Itzel, leaned in slightly, his usually aloof demeanor replaced with genuine interest.
“You know, I’ve only had a few hours to study the Dragonstone you retrieved but I already came across something...unexpected.”
Itzel raised an eyebrow, curious. “Unexpected? How so?”
Farengar’s blue eyes gleamed with the excitement of discovery. “The Dragonstone is more than just a map of dragon burial sites. It contains ancient scripts that suggest a deeper connection between the dragons and the very land of Skyrim itself. If my interpretations are correct, it might even point to a method of controlling dragons.”
Itzel’s eyes widened in surprise. “Controlling dragons? That’s...incredible. But how?”
The wizard’s expression turned more serious as he continued, “I’m still piecing it together, but it involves a type of magic long forgotten, something far beyond the standard spells most mages know today. The knowledge has been lost for centuries, but with the Dragonstone as a key, we might be able to unlock it again.”
Itzel felt a shiver run down her spine. The implications of such power were immense—and terrifying. “That’s...that’s a lot to take in.”
Farengar nodded, acknowledging the weight of what he had just revealed. “Indeed. Which is why I need someone with potential, someone willing to learn, to help me explore these possibilities further. You learned that spell I taught you incredibly fast, you have a natural aptitude for magic.”
Itzel blushed slightly at the compliment, but her curiosity was piqued. “Thank you, Farengar. I’ve always felt a connection to magic, but I’ve never had the opportunity to study it formally. That Frost Ward you gave me—it was invaluable. But I know I still have a lot to learn.”
The wizard stroked his chin thoughtfully. “You’ve already taken your first steps. If you’re willing, I could teach you more. Take you under my wing, so to speak. There’s so much untapped potential in Skyrim, and you seem intelligent enough to grasp what others might overlook.”
Itzel felt a surge of excitement at the offer. The idea of learning more, of uncovering ancient secrets, was tempting. “I’d…I’d like that.”
“Good,” Farengar said with a nod of approval. “Then we’ll start once I discover more information. There’s much to do, and if the dragons are truly returning, we need to be prepared. The knowledge we uncover could be the key to Skyrim’s survival—or its destruction.”
As their conversation flowed, Itzel found herself warming to the eccentric wizard. Despite his arrogance, there was an undeniable passion for the arcane that resonated with her own burgeoning interest in magic. She made a mental note to visit him again before they left Whiterun.
Meanwhile, Kaidan glanced at Itzel and Farengar across the table, his gaze softening as he noticed how engaged she was in the conversation. They were probably discussing magic - something he didn’t know much about, nor did he particularly care to, but he respected Itzel’s drive to learn and grow. And if Farengar’s spells could keep her safe, he’d tolerate the wizard’s company—for now.
Soon, the grand hall of Dragonsreach had transformed from a scene of feasting to one of revelry, as the guests, now full of food and drink, began to dance with increasing abandon. Laughter echoed off the stone walls, and the flickering light of the torches added a warm, almost intimate glow to the room. Itzel watched from the sidelines for a moment, a small smile playing on her lips as she observed the drunken nobles twirling and stumbling in their elaborate gowns and suits.
As the music grew louder and the dance floor became more crowded, her hazel orbs found Kaidan. He was standing near the edge of the room, his striking form catching the eye of more than one guest. His dark hair rested in that perfect, effortlessly handsome way, and his sharp jawline tightened slightly as he drank from a golden chalice and watched the festivities.
Their eyes met, and a current of something unspoken sparked between them. Kaidan made his way toward her, moving through the throng with an ease that spoke to his confidence. He stopped just in front of her, his smile deepening as he took in her appearance. “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself,” he said, his voice carrying a subtle approval.
“Just watching,” Itzel replied, meeting his fiery gaze with equal intensity. “Though I’m not sure what’s more entertaining—the dancing or seeing you try to avoid those noblewomen who’ve been eyeing you all night.”
Kaidan chuckled, a low, rich sound that made her heart skip a beat. “Can’t say I blame them. But I’ve got my mind on other things tonight.”
Itzel arched an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling into a sly smile. “Other things? Such as?”
He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with a playful glint. “Oh, you know… things like wondering how someone like you managed to clean up so well. Not that you needed it,” he added with a smirk, letting his lids travel over her dress, which hugged her curves in all the right places.
Itzel gave a light, teasing laugh. “It was about time for a proper bath, don’t you think? Though I had to get a bit creative with the arrangement.”
“Creative?” Kaidan repeated, his curiosity piqued.
She hesitated, but the mischievous look in his eyes encouraged her to continue. “Well, I might have… surprised a servant when I stepped out of the bath. Let’s just say it wasn’t the kind of exposure I was expecting.”
Kaidan’s smirk widened, his tone dropping to something more intimate. “Exposed yourself to a servant, did you? And here I was, thinking you’d gotten through the day unscathed.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she wasn’t about to back down from the game. “It wasn’t exactly intentional. But I handled it with grace. She’s probably seen worse.”
His smirk widened, and he straightened up, his eyes gleaming with a challenge. “If you think that was something, you should see the bathhouse here in Dragonsreach. Supposedly, it’s the grandest and most luxurious in all of Skyrim. Might be worth a visit.”
Itzel’s blush deepened, but she kept her composure, holding his gaze. “Oh? And why would I need to visit when I’ve already had a perfectly good bath today?”
Kaidan’s eyes flickered with amusem*nt, the smoldering intensity never leaving his expression. “Because I hear it’s best enjoyed in the early hours, when there’s no one else around. Peaceful. Private.”
She couldn’t help but smirk, feeling the tension between them heighten. “Maybe I’ll be there. Maybe I won’t.”
He chuckled again, clearly enjoying their exchange. “We’ll see, then.”
After a beat of silence, Itzel shifted the conversation. “Farengar mentioned he might teach me more about magic, take me under his wing.”
Kaidan’s expression hardened slightly, though he kept his tone light. “That so? Can’t say I’m the wizard’s biggest fan, but learning from him could be good for you. Just... keep your wits about you. He’s got his own agenda, no doubt.”
Itzel nodded, appreciating his concern. “I’ll be careful. But I want to learn. If dragons are really coming back, we need every edge we can get. Plus, those Thalmor are overdue for their karma.”
Kaidan’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the playful tension between them gave way to something more serious. “Aye. Just remember, you’re not in this alone.”
Itzel’s heart warmed at his words, and she gave him a small, genuine smile. “I know. Thanks, Kaidan.”
They stood there for a moment longer, the connection between them deepening in the silence. The music and laughter of the hall seemed distant, as if the world had narrowed to just the two of them. Finally, Kaidan gave her a slight nod, a silent promise of more to come, before stepping back.
“Don’t be up all night,” he grinned slyly, his voice carrying that familiar hint of mischief. “Got a big day ahead, especially if you’re keen on pickin’ up more of that wizard’s parlor tricks.”
Itzel watched him walk away, her pulse still racing from their exchange. She hadn’t seen him in such a good mood before, and she had a feeling the weight of a large sack of gold had something to do with it. Whether it was the lively celebration, the lavish surroundings of the palace, or simply the relief of surviving Bleak Falls Barrow, Itzel felt as if she were floating, untouchable. She wished this moment could last forever.
But more than anything, she wished Rideria could be here to share it with her.
✷ ✷ ✷
Rideria’s head throbbed as she sat, bound to the cold, unforgiving chair in the dimly lit dungeon. Every muscle in her body screamed for relief, but she refused to let the Thalmor scum before her see any sign of weakness. The flickering torch on the wall cast erratic shadows, but it was Suurllon’s cold, calculating eyes that held her gaze, as his lips curled into a thin, condescending smile.
“You’re making this far more difficult than it needs to be,” Suurllon said, his voice dripping with faux patience. He paced in front of her, hands clasped behind his back. “Just tell us what you know about the dragons, and this can all be over.”
Rideria narrowed her eyes, her lip curling in disdain. “Why don’t you shove that question up your shiny Elven ass, Suurllon? I told you already, I don’t know anything. But hey, keep asking—it’s really improving my opinion of Thalmor hospitality.”
Suurllon’s smirk remained, though a flicker of annoyance crossed his eyes. “I find it hard to believe that you’re completely ignorant. After all, your father, Roloor, seemed to know a great deal. Perhaps you inherited more than just his attitude.”
Rideria blinked, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of Roloor. She had never met the man in her life—he wasn’t her father, not by blood. But she knew enough to understand that he was connected to something big, something that had nothing to do with her. They had the wrong sister, but she wasn’t about to enlighten them.
She forced a sneer to cover her expression. “Roloor? Really? I’ve never even met the guy. And if you think I’m going to spill my guts about a man I don’t give a damn about, you’re more delusional than I thought. Maybe you should stick to harassing elderly farmers—that’s more your speed.”
Suurllon’s expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’re lying. You might think you’re clever, but I will get the truth out of you. And believe me, it won’t be pleasant.”
Rideria met his gaze with defiant fury. “Go ahead, try me. You Thalmor bastards are all the same—thinking you can break everyone with your little mind games and threats. But I’m not afraid of you. In fact, I’m more afraid of the idea that I might actually start to find this interrogation entertaining.”
Suurllon’s eyes narrowed, and he snapped his fingers. “Pellotar, Ancen—remind our guest of the consequences of insolence.”
The two thugs stepped forward, their faces twisted with malice. Pellotar, the larger of the two, grabbed a fistful of Rideria’s hair, jerking her head back so she was forced to look up at him. “You’ve got a big mouth for such a small girl,” he sneered, pulling his fist back to strike.
Rideria didn’t flinch, staring him down with pure hatred. “And you’ve got a small brain for such a big idiot. What’s your excuse?”
Pellotar’s fist connected with her jaw, the force of the blow sending her head snapping to the side. Pain exploded in her skull, but she bit back the cry that threatened to escape. Instead, she spat blood on the floor, lifting her head with a smirk. “That all you got, big guy? I’ve had worse from a mudcrab.”
Pellotar’s face twisted with rage, and he drew back to hit her again, but Suurllon raised a hand to stop him. “Enough. We don’t want her dead—yet.”
Ancen, who had been watching with a sad*stic grin, stepped closer, his hand gripping Rideria’s throat as he forced her to look at Suurllon. “You should really reconsider your attitude, girl. It’s not going to end well for you.”
Rideria choked slightly, but she still managed a raspy laugh, attempting to trigger the elf. “You think this is bad? I’ve had worse hangovers. You Thalmor really need to up your torture game. This is just embarrassing.”
Suurllon narrowed his eyes, his voice sharp and threatening. "Keep up the humor, and you'll soon find out just how quickly I can shatter that spirit of yours. You'll be praying for an end long before we’re finished."
Rideria met his gaze without flinching. She feigned a threat, trying to sound believable. “Get in line, Suurllon. There’s a whole world out there that wants to see me dead. And you know what? None of them have managed it yet.”
Suurllon straightened, clearly frustrated by her unyielding defiance. “Very well,” he said, nodding to Pellotar. “Make her more… compliant.”
Pellotar grinned and moved forward again, but Rideria wasn’t about to let them have the last word. As he reached for her, she twisted her body sharply, bringing the chair down hard on his knee. He howled in pain and fell into Suurllon, and in the split second of confusion, she launched herself forward, using her momentum to break the chair and her bindings in one go. Unlike her sister, she had hung around the ‘wrong crowds’ and learned some valuable skills from it.
Ancen lunged at her, but she was ready. She ducked under his grasp and drove her knee into his groin, sending him reeling back. Then, with a snarl, she grabbed a shard of broken glass from the floor and slashed it across Pellotar’s face, carving a deep gash from his cheek to his ear.
He screamed, clutching his face as blood poured down his neck. “You little bitch!”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Rideria snapped, using the moment of chaos to rush for the door. She fumbled with the key ring she had swiped from Pellotar’s belt, her heart pounding in her chest as she unlocked the door and stumbled into the corridor beyond.
“Stop her!” Suurllon commanded, desperately trying to push Pellotar’s heavy body off him.
She barely made it a few steps before she heard the furious shouts behind her, and she knew she had to move fast. The corridor was dark and narrow, but she didn’t care. She was getting out of this place, no matter what.
Just as she rounded a corner, a hand clamped over her mouth from behind, silencing her. Panic surged through her, but before she could struggle, a voice whispered urgently in her ear, “Shh… I’m here to help.”
✷ ✷ ✷
The early morning hues of blue filtered through the tall, narrow windows of Itzel’s quarters, casting a serene glow over the room. The space was luxurious yet somehow still cozy, with a large, four-poster bed draped in soft furs and rich, dark fabrics. The embers in the fireplace had long since burned out, but the lingering warmth still clung to the air, making the room feel safe and comforting. She lay beneath the heavy blankets, reluctant to move, her body nestled in the soft warmth.
Itzel stared up at the intricate carvings on the wooden canopy overhead, her thoughts drifting back to the conversation she’d had the night before. The bathhouse had been on her mind ever since Kaidan mentioned it—a challenge of sorts that still left her feeling uncertain. The idea of indulging in such luxury was tempting, but it also felt daunting. The palace was so vast and silent, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath, waiting for the day to begin.
She sighed, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face. After last night’s feast, Alana had told her the bathhouse was on the bottom floor, a secluded place where few would be at this hour. The temptation of a private, luxurious bath, away from prying eyes, was too strong to resist. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity - a bathhouse fit for the Jarl’s and King’s of Skyrim.
Pushing aside the blankets, Itzel sat up, the cool air of the room brushing against her skin. She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair, letting it fall freely down her back in soft waves. The smooth strands caught the morning light, glinting with a faint sheen. She rose from the bed and moved to the vanity, where she lightly dusted her cheeks with a blush pigment, adding a hint of color to her complexion. The simple act of preparing herself made her feel more in control, more ready to face the day—no matter what it might bring.
After a moment of contemplation, she slipped into a light robe and padded barefoot across the soft rug that covered the stone floor. The room was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of fabric and the distant creak of the castle settling. The stillness was almost eerie, but there was also something peaceful about it, as though the castle itself was still asleep, waiting for the day to wake.
Stepping out of her quarters, Itzel found the corridor empty, the soft blue light of dawn casting long shadows along the walls. The grand tapestries and banners that hung from the ceiling barely stirred in the cool morning air. She moved silently, her footsteps barely making a sound on the smooth stone floor as she made her way toward the staircase. Each step echoed softly in the vast, empty palace.
The castle was a labyrinth of hallways and chambers, but the silence made it easy to navigate. As she descended the grand staircase, the soft glow of torches flickered in the sconces along the walls, casting a warm light that mingled with the cool blue of the morning. The luxury of Dragonsreach was undeniable, but it was the solitude that struck her the most. In this early hour, it felt like she was the only soul awake within the palace walls.
Finally, she reached the bottom floor, the air cooler and slightly damp as she approached the door to the bathhouse. It was a grand door, carefully carved with scenes of Nords battling dragons, their heroic figures frozen in time. The craftsmanship was exquisite, a testament to the history and grandeur of the place. She paused for a moment, her hand hovering over the handle, feeling the weight of the door and the significance of the moment. Taking a deep breath, she pushed it open, stepping into the bathhouse beyond.
The bathhouse was breathtaking. The moment Itzel stepped inside, she was enveloped by an atmosphere of pure tranquility. The entire room was bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of morning light filtering through the tall, frosted windows, casting everything in a serene blue hue. The walls were a pristine white, adorned with intricately carved statues of dragons, their stony eyes watching over the space.
Water fell in graceful arcs from the mouths of these statues, cascading into the large stone pool that dominated the center of the room. The pool itself was deep and inviting, with floating petals scattered across its surface, adding a delicate touch of color to the otherwise monochromatic scene.
But it wasn’t just the magnificence of the room that captured her attention—it was Kaidan. He was the only one in the bath, seated on a stone bench within the steaming water, his back turned to her.
The blue light accentuated the contours of his tall muscular frame, the powerful lines of his back defined and chiseled, each movement as he shifted subtly beneath the water showing the sheer strength he possessed. His dark hair was damp, clinging slightly to his neck, and his broad shoulders seemed even more imposing against the backdrop of the pale, misty air.
Itzel's breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, his mere presence commanding the space as if he were a king in his own right. The steam from the water rose around him like a veil, only adding to the allure that radiated from him even when he wasn't facing her.
As she took in the scene, her eyes fell upon a basket nearby, clearly meant for undressing, and another filled with fresh, fragrant soaps. She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, but then she heard the slight shift of water as Kaidan turned his head just enough to acknowledge her presence.
“Couldn’t resist, could you?” he remarked, his tone dripping with amusem*nt, a light smile playing at the corner of his lips even though she couldn’t see it fully.
She lifted her chin, determined not to let him get the upper hand in this game. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Looks like I didn’t miss much,” she shot back, her voice laced with feigned indifference.
Kaidan chuckled, the low sound reverberating through the room. “Ha, is that so?” he replied, clearly enjoying the banter. “Well, don’t let me stop you from joining the party. Plenty of room.”
Itzel’s eyes caught sight of another basket, this one containing neatly folded black bikinis for women and black underwear for men. The thought of undressing in front of anyone, especially Kaidan, sent a rush of heat to her cheeks, but she was grateful for the modesty the bikini would afford her. Still, the whole situation was teetering on the edge of impropriety, and she wasn’t about to make it easier for him.
“Turn around,” she ordered, trying to keep her voice steady.
Kaidan didn’t move. “I am turned around,” he replied, his tone humorous.
She rolled her eyes, her nerves tingling with the heaviness that hung in the air between them. “I mean more. And close your eyes while you’re at it.”
To her surprise, he actually complied, turning his head further away and shutting his eyes, though the smirk was still evident on his lips. Itzel couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves mixed with something else—something more electrifying—as she quickly stripped out of her robe. She slipped into the small black garment, the thin fabric hugging her curves in a way that left little to the imagination. The material was soft against her skin, but the sensation of being so exposed made her heart race.
“Alright,” she said, her voice a touch breathless. “You can open them now.”
She could feel Kaidan’s gaze on her immediately, intense and unwavering, as she walked slowly toward the water. She kept her eyes fixed on the pool, refusing to meet his stare, though every nerve in her body was hyper-aware of the attention he was giving her. The water was warm as she dipped her toes in, and she could feel her muscles relaxing almost instantly.
She slid into the water and made her way to the other side of the pool, positioning herself adjacent to him in the narrower part of the bath. The steam rose around them, creating an intimate haze that only seemed to heighten the charged atmosphere.
For a moment, silence settled over the bathhouse, broken only by the gentle lapping of water against the stone edges of the pool. Itzel could feel Kaidan’s gaze on her, steady and smoldering, but she refused to look at him. The suspense between them was evident, an unspoken challenge that neither of them was willing to back down from.
Finally, she couldn’t resist any longer and met his eyes. The intensity of his ruby gaze hit her like a force of nature, and she felt a shiver run down her spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. His eyes were dark, almost burning with something that made her heart race in her chest. The steam rising around them only seemed to heighten the intimacy of the moment, capturing them in their own private world.
“Comfortable?” Kaidan’s voice was low as he watched her.
Itzel raised an eyebrow, refusing to be the one to break first. “Maybe,” she replied, her voice calm, though her pulse was anything but. “What about you?”
Kaidan leaned back slightly, his muscles rippling under the water as he shifted his weight. “Can’t complain. The company’s not bad, either.”
Itzel rolled her eyes, but the smile playing on her lips betrayed her amusem*nt. “Is that so? And here I was, thinking you preferred to be alone.”
He shrugged, the movement drawing her attention to the broad expanse of his chest, the way the water clung to his skin, tracing every line of his muscles. His wet strands curtained his eyes in a way that made him look almost untamed, wild. Her gaze lingered a little too long, and she quickly averted her eyes, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
“Depends on the company,” Kaidan replied, his voice cutting through her thoughts. “And you, Itzel? How’s the bath? D’you reckon it lives up to all the talk?”
Itzel let out a soft laugh, trying to steady herself. “It’s… not bad,” she finally breathed, though her mind was anything but steady.
Kaidan’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could see right through her. “Not bad, eh?” he echoed, his tone carrying a hint of challenge. “You don’t strike me as someone who’d settle for ‘not bad.’”
She met the inferno in his eyes, her resolve hardening. “And you don’t strike me as someone who cares about other people’s standards.”
“Maybe I do,” he countered, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone.
Itzel’s breath caught, the undercurrent in his words not lost on her. She held his gaze, even as her heart raced. Sure, he was attractive, but she wasn’t about to fawn over him like those noble ladies last night. She wasn’t one to back down.
“You might find out my standards are higher than you think,” Itzel said, her voice serious.
Kaidan’s eyes gleamed, something unreadable flickering there, though his smirk never wavered. “Aye, I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
For a moment, they just stared at each other, the air between them thick with tension. Itzel could feel the heat of his stare, the way his eyes traced her features with a mix of curiosity and something more primal. She found herself studying him just as intently—the sharp angles of his jaw, the slight stubble that added a rough edge to his otherwise noble features, the way the light made his damp hair gleam like polished obsidian.
Itzel broke the silence, her voice soft but tinged with curiosity. “Do you remember back in Bleak Falls Barrow, I asked if you heard chanting?”
He nodded slowly, “Sure.”
“Well,” Itzel paused. “Back in that barrow, I... I felt something strange when I approached that wall with the ancient scripture. It wasn’t just carvings. There was a word—no, it was more than a word. It was like I understood it, absorbed it. It felt... powerful.”
Kaidan’s expression shifted slightly, his brow furrowing. “A word, you say? That’s... unusual.” He paused, considering her words carefully. “I don’t remember hearing anything. What else did it feel like?”
Itzel hesitated, searching for the right words. “It was overwhelming. Like the word held an energy, a force that went straight through me. It’s hard to explain, but it felt like it became a part of me.”
Kaidan’s eyes narrowed as he processed her description. “That sounds dangerous. Powerful, but dangerous. You should be careful with whatever that was. Hearing voices is…odd, even for Skyrim.”
Itzel nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “I know. It’s just... it’s strange. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
Kaidan’s gaze softened slightly, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just a bit. “You’ve been through a lot in a short time. First dragons, now this. If it comes back, I’m sure you can handle it.”
A brief silence settled between them, and Itzel, emboldened by the moment, asked, “Kaidan, what about you? You seem like you’ve faced a lot of things most haven’t.”
Kaidan’s expression hardened slightly, his walls going back up. “My past isn’t something I talk about lightly. Let’s just say I’ve seen enough to know that the world isn’t kind. You do what you have to survive, and you don’t look back.”
Itzel sensed the shift in his tone, a reluctance to delve deeper. “I understand.” She frowned, feeling the conversation slip away just as it was getting somewhere.
Kaidan gave her a half-smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze flickered and was drawn instinctively to the curve of her figure. He was acutely aware of Itzel’s hidden attraction to him, the subtle signals she sent, and he couldn’t deny the slight pull he felt toward her. But he was also reluctant, wary of getting too involved, knowing the dangers of forming attachments in a world like theirs. Still, he couldn’t help but acknowledge her... appealing form, and the way it stirred something in him.
Despite his better judgment, he found his pupils drawn to her chest, the thin black cloth barely covering her nipples which protruded through the fragile material. The way the delicate straps strained to contain her, and how the water clung to her skin, made it impossible to look away.
He’d seen countless women… but Itzel’s normally guarded and conservative nature compared to how exposed she was in this moment captured his reluctant fascination. His eyes flickered to the necklace that rested just above her cleavage, the green gem catching the light, and he found himself staring longer than he intended.
“That’s an interesting necklace,” He remarked, his voice rougher, trying to steer his attention back to safer ground. “What’s the story behind it?”
Itzel noticed his gaze lingering on her chest and felt a subtle thrill course through her. Despite the heat rising in her cheeks, she forced herself to meet his eyes. “This? It’s not for me,” she began, her fingers brushing the gem lightly. “It’s a birthday gift for Rideria, whenever I find her. It’s called a Jade Dewdrop... it has a special meaning for both of us.”
Kaidan’s brow furrowed, genuinely curious. “What kind of meaning?”
She sighed softly, the memories surfacing in her mind. “When we were kids, we used to play in the woods near our home. One day, we stumbled across this strange, almost otherworldly glow in the water. Turned out, it was a Jade Dewdrop, a rare gem that forms in the dew on a very particular kind of aquatic leaf. They say they’re rare because they only form under a perfect alignment of conditions—dew, temperature, light, and time. We found one, nestled on a leaf, glowing like a beacon. It was... magical, like we had found something from a different world.”
Kaidan listened intently, his eyes flicking between her lips and the gem as she spoke. There was a certain reverence in her tone, and it was clear that this memory meant more to her than just the gem itself. “That sounds... like a one-in-a-million kind of thing.”
“It was,” she nodded, her expression softening. “We kept it hidden away, safe in a small box we found in the attic. But one day, Rideria got the idea that we should try to plant it, see if we could grow another. We were just children and thought maybe, just maybe, we could bring that magic to life again. So we buried it under a tree in the garden and waited, checking every day for weeks, hoping something would sprout. But nothing ever did, obviously it’s a gem not a seed. And when we finally dug it up, the gem was gone. Just vanished.”
Kaidan raised an eyebrow. “Gone? Just like that?”
Itzel nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line. “We were devastated. We searched the soil, tore apart the garden, but it was like it had been swallowed by the earth. Vilreni, our mother, almost killed us for ruining her garden.” She chuckled.
“I think losing it hurt us more than we wanted to admit.” Itzel continued, her tone more somber. “That loss, it became more than just losing a gem. It was like losing a part of that magic we had found together. For years, we both stopped looking for anything like it, as if we were afraid of the disappointment. But when I came across this one, I knew I couldn’t let it slip through my fingers again. I had to make something special out of it for Rideria, to remind us both that magic, no matter how fleeting, can always find its way back to you if you believe in it enough.”
She fingered the gem lightly, her thoughts distant. “It’s more than just a symbol now. It’s a promise. That no matter what happens, we won’t lose that magic again.”
Kaidan’s gaze softened as he looked at her, sensing the deep connection she shared with her sister. “Sounds like a hell of a bond you two have.”
Itzel smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. “We do. She means the world to me.”
Kaidan’s eyes flickered down to the necklace again, noticing how the gem rested just above the thin straps of her bikini, the soft rise of her breasts just visible beneath the water. He cleared his throat, his voice dropping an octave. “She’s lucky to have you. Blood run’s thick.”
Itzel’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his tone. “I’d do anything for her. Just like... you’d do anything for someone you cared about, wouldn’t you?”
Kaidan’s gaze met hers, the smoldering intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. “Aye, maybe. Though, I don’t let people get that close in the first place.”
There was a pause, the air thick with unspoken tension, as both of them held each other’s gaze. Itzel tore away and glanced at the cascading water, allowing herself to focus on the beauty of the bathhouse.
She finally broke the silence, her voice softer now. “I suppose we’ve both got our own ways of protecting what’s important to us.”
Kaidan’s red eyes lingered on her for a moment before he leaned back, causing the water to ripple around him. He spoke with a distant tone. “Aye, we do. But be careful. Sometimes the things you hold closest are the ones that leave the deepest scars.”
Itzel nodded, his words hitting home. “It’s worth it to me, though.”
Kaidan’s lips curled into a faint, almost amused smile. “Aye. Sometimes it is.”
The two sat there in silence, the tightness of the air almost perceptible. The weight of their conversation hung about, a quiet understanding passing between them. There was more to say, more to uncover about each other, but they both let it be for now, letting the warmth of the bath ease them.
