“This is the place?” Luaffyn asked. They were at the edge of the Gray Quarter near where Rolff and Aval had fought earlier.
He nodded; unable to speak as his eyes lingered over the spot they had found Eira’s body. She had been brutally mutilated, flesh cut from various parts of her body and her face almost destroyed beyond recognition. Almost. Worst of all, her skirt had been hiked over her hips and her smalls never discovered.
“You know just because she was found here doesn’t mean it was a Dunmer who did it,” Luaffyn suggested.
“Of course it was one of you gray skins!” Rolff snapped. Friga Shatter-Shield’s father hired Argonians and she had been the first victim. Clearly it was because of the Dunmer and Argonian feud. Eira had been in the Gray Quarter, probably coming back from the docks. Susanna was known for fraternizing with them. It all made sense. Some Dunmer had killed and raped his wife, and Rolff Stone-Fist meant to have revenge!
The bard merely shrugged and pointed to a corner. “I guess you can hide over there. I’ll be pacing over here. Just…just be sure to stop him if he does attack me, okay? I’m sort of attached to being alive.”
Rolff settled into his hiding place as Luaffyn started her patrol. His eyes were drawn again and again to the spot where Eira had died. There was no mark now, no blood or memorial to remember this spot, but it was burned in mind. He saw her accusing stare. “Why hadn’t you been here to protect me?” those dead eyes screamed. “Why were you not there?”
In the dark, it was easy to ignore Luaffyn’s darker skin and pointed ears especially when she was turned away. Her hair was the same shade of red Eira’s had been and after a while it was all too easy for Rolff to imagine it was his wife out there in danger instead of some filthy elf. Being only able to see the curve of her skirt and the fall of her hair, Luaffyn was just a woman.
The bard almost screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around expecting to see the Butcher had finally come to kill her. Instead it was Rolff Stone-Fist who looked exhausted instead of angry for a change. “It’s not going to work,” he grunted as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “so let’s go home. I’ll escort you back.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, secretly relieved. She wasn’t completely sure, but she thought they had only been out there for an hour or two.
“Yeah,” Rolff agreed, his eyes downcast as he scruff his shoes on the street. “Now let’s go.”
They walked back in silence to the Candlehearth Inn. Luaffyn thought to try to make conversation a few times, but Rolff’s pensive look stilled her tongue. When they were in safe sight of the inn, he turned to her. “I’ll leave you here.”
“Do you want to try again tomorrow?”
“No, no sense risking no woman,” Rolff grunted. “You may be an elf, but you’re still a woman. I’ll find the bastard on my own.”
Luaffyn smiled as she leaned close and touched Rolff’s hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Rolff jerked away as if her touch had burned him. It had felt too much like she had been about to kiss him. “Don’t need any thanks from any gray skin either!” he snapped as he turned around and ran home.
He spent the rest of the night drinking and thinking of red hair that fell like flame down a woman’s shoulders. Sometimes he worried that he wasn’t thinking of Eira at all. Finally, during the pre-dawn hours of the morning, he crawled into bed drunk and lonely. Most of all he dreaded the moment when he woke and checked for the hand resting on his chest that would never again be there.
A/N: Not sure if I'll write more, but I hope OP likes it. I've been intrigued by this prompt since I first saw it.
Eira 3/3
He nodded; unable to speak as his eyes lingered over the spot they had found Eira’s body. She had been brutally mutilated, flesh cut from various parts of her body and her face almost destroyed beyond recognition. Almost. Worst of all, her skirt had been hiked over her hips and her smalls never discovered.
“You know just because she was found here doesn’t mean it was a Dunmer who did it,” Luaffyn suggested.
“Of course it was one of you gray skins!” Rolff snapped. Friga Shatter-Shield’s father hired Argonians and she had been the first victim. Clearly it was because of the Dunmer and Argonian feud. Eira had been in the Gray Quarter, probably coming back from the docks. Susanna was known for fraternizing with them. It all made sense. Some Dunmer had killed and raped his wife, and Rolff Stone-Fist meant to have revenge!
The bard merely shrugged and pointed to a corner. “I guess you can hide over there. I’ll be pacing over here. Just…just be sure to stop him if he does attack me, okay? I’m sort of attached to being alive.”
Rolff settled into his hiding place as Luaffyn started her patrol. His eyes were drawn again and again to the spot where Eira had died. There was no mark now, no blood or memorial to remember this spot, but it was burned in mind. He saw her accusing stare. “Why hadn’t you been here to protect me?” those dead eyes screamed. “Why were you not there?”
In the dark, it was easy to ignore Luaffyn’s darker skin and pointed ears especially when she was turned away. Her hair was the same shade of red Eira’s had been and after a while it was all too easy for Rolff to imagine it was his wife out there in danger instead of some filthy elf. Being only able to see the curve of her skirt and the fall of her hair, Luaffyn was just a woman.
The bard almost screamed when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around expecting to see the Butcher had finally come to kill her. Instead it was Rolff Stone-Fist who looked exhausted instead of angry for a change. “It’s not going to work,” he grunted as he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “so let’s go home. I’ll escort you back.”
“Are you sure?” she asked, secretly relieved. She wasn’t completely sure, but she thought they had only been out there for an hour or two.
“Yeah,” Rolff agreed, his eyes downcast as he scruff his shoes on the street. “Now let’s go.”
They walked back in silence to the Candlehearth Inn. Luaffyn thought to try to make conversation a few times, but Rolff’s pensive look stilled her tongue. When they were in safe sight of the inn, he turned to her. “I’ll leave you here.”
“Do you want to try again tomorrow?”
“No, no sense risking no woman,” Rolff grunted. “You may be an elf, but you’re still a woman. I’ll find the bastard on my own.”
Luaffyn smiled as she leaned close and touched Rolff’s hand. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Rolff jerked away as if her touch had burned him. It had felt too much like she had been about to kiss him. “Don’t need any thanks from any gray skin either!” he snapped as he turned around and ran home.
He spent the rest of the night drinking and thinking of red hair that fell like flame down a woman’s shoulders. Sometimes he worried that he wasn’t thinking of Eira at all. Finally, during the pre-dawn hours of the morning, he crawled into bed drunk and lonely. Most of all he dreaded the moment when he woke and checked for the hand resting on his chest that would never again be there.
A/N: Not sure if I'll write more, but I hope OP likes it. I've been intrigued by this prompt since I first saw it.