From: (Anonymous)
Farkas couldn’t say how long Nibenor slept for, only that the Bosmer dozed off against him almost immediately. His slumber was deep and quiet, the elf barely stirring, his breathing almost imperceptible, save for the soft puffs of warm air against his own chest.

Although the elf would protest, he still had a long way to go until he was fully recovered from his trip. The Nord couldn’t say he was pleased to return to find Nibenor’s injuries as they were. The healer had sped the process up, but the cuts and bruises from his battles still lingered, smaller, shallower, but there. Whether Nibenor was putting on a brave face against the pain, or whether he was really feeling better, Farkas wasn’t sure. He wondered if it was simply the joy of being reunited that staved off the worst of the pain for him.

He sighed lightly, looking down at the sleeping man, his skin a pale yellow in the glow of the lantern’s light, a sickly contrast to the purple mottling across his back. He traced a hand down, feeling Nibenor shift in response. That alone was enough to pull back, fear of hurting him making him almost afraid to touch him.

He couldn’t bear the thought of his little elf being in pain, especially by his own hands. If he could, he would’ve gone to Sovngarde in Nibenor’s place and beaten Alduin for him. If he could. Still, that was Nibenor’s birthright as Dragonborn.

He glanced over to the small stand beside the bed, finding the small cloth package to still be there, an odd mix of comfort and nervousness welling in his chest as he looked at it.

As soon as he had been certain that Nibenor was in safe hands with the healer he had headed for Riften. Guilt still plagued him that he had left his lovers side so soon after his return, but the urgency he had felt to act had overpowered it at the time. Looking at the bundle, he knew it had been right to do, comfort by its presence, its meaning. And the smaller man cradled against him.
Amulets of Mara weren’t too hard to come by, but after a week of asking around, he knew there were none to be found in Whiterun.

The temple of Mara had been his best chance to get one, and despite riding himself, and his horse, ragged to get there and back, he couldn’t regret it too much.

Well, not as long as Nibenor said yes, anyway...
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