Tired of feeling beholden to the men of Riverwood, Danica set aside her work and set out to find herself some dinner. She’d picked up a bow and some arrows off one of the dead guards at Helgen, and she had every intention of putting them to use catching herself some game.
If she was lucky, she might bag an elk, or something with enough meat that she could maybe barter a bit for some vegetables. She was strange, she’d been told time and again, for enjoying “bits of useless greenery,” but that hadn’t truly dissuaded her. If anything, Danica had enjoyed it more because she had been told she shouldn’t.
She was like that. Always had been. Probably always would be. “Most contrary lass I ever did meet” a beau had called her once. She hadn’t been able to argue then, and couldn’t argue now. Not when she wanted Alvor so desperately that she couldn’t think of anything else.
Danica wasn’t sure when she had decided that she had to have Alvor. Yes, she had wanted him immediately, but she had denied herself things in the past, and Alvor would have been just one more thing she occasionally wondered about. She didn’t know when that line had been crossed, when Alvor had become essential to her happiness. Perhaps it really had been in that first moment, when she felt that pang of lust at first sight. Or perhaps it had happened when Sigrid had warned her off. It might have happened today, when he’d challenged her at the forge.
She honestly didn’t know.
What she did know was that she was done fighting it. The reasons to resist were becoming less important by the second. Danica knew she was not always a pillar of morality, but she did have a moral code which had thus-far stopped her from tumbling married men. But that was going to change.
She was going to seduce Alvor, consequences be damned.
That evening, with a belly full of roast deer and a vegetable stew, Danica returned to the forge. There was only one thing on her mind. She just hoped that Alvor had meant what he’d said earlier. That he intended to finish their conversation, and that he intended to do so after his wife and daughter went to sleep.
To maintain the pretense of legitimacy, Danica worked on the armor she’d started earlier, cleaning up rough edges, adding some detail work, and polishing the steel until it shone. Her mind wasn’t on it, and to a studied eye it would show, but for most passerby, it would be enough.
She had been there for the better part of an hour, and was quickly running out of things to do with herself to maintain the appearance of business. She had almost given up. Almost taken the armor and slunk out of town in the middle of the night.
The Other Woman -- F!DB/Alvor -- 6a/?
If she was lucky, she might bag an elk, or something with enough meat that she could maybe barter a bit for some vegetables. She was strange, she’d been told time and again, for enjoying “bits of useless greenery,” but that hadn’t truly dissuaded her. If anything, Danica had enjoyed it more because she had been told she shouldn’t.
She was like that. Always had been. Probably always would be. “Most contrary lass I ever did meet” a beau had called her once. She hadn’t been able to argue then, and couldn’t argue now. Not when she wanted Alvor so desperately that she couldn’t think of anything else.
Danica wasn’t sure when she had decided that she had to have Alvor. Yes, she had wanted him immediately, but she had denied herself things in the past, and Alvor would have been just one more thing she occasionally wondered about. She didn’t know when that line had been crossed, when Alvor had become essential to her happiness. Perhaps it really had been in that first moment, when she felt that pang of lust at first sight. Or perhaps it had happened when Sigrid had warned her off. It might have happened today, when he’d challenged her at the forge.
She honestly didn’t know.
What she did know was that she was done fighting it. The reasons to resist were becoming less important by the second. Danica knew she was not always a pillar of morality, but she did have a moral code which had thus-far stopped her from tumbling married men. But that was going to change.
She was going to seduce Alvor, consequences be damned.
That evening, with a belly full of roast deer and a vegetable stew, Danica returned to the forge. There was only one thing on her mind. She just hoped that Alvor had meant what he’d said earlier. That he intended to finish their conversation, and that he intended to do so after his wife and daughter went to sleep.
To maintain the pretense of legitimacy, Danica worked on the armor she’d started earlier, cleaning up rough edges, adding some detail work, and polishing the steel until it shone. Her mind wasn’t on it, and to a studied eye it would show, but for most passerby, it would be enough.
She had been there for the better part of an hour, and was quickly running out of things to do with herself to maintain the appearance of business. She had almost given up. Almost taken the armor and slunk out of town in the middle of the night.
And then he arrived.