There was no “later”, for the ghost had insisted on a bit of training after they’d returned his sword. By the time the ghost had left, it was late morning, and the Dragonborn was in no condition to travel. A fact that her companion wasted no time chiding her for: “That’s what happens when you run off on adventures at all hours of the night.”
“Well, it’s buying you another night in a cozy inn.” She groused as she unceremoniously began stripping off her armour.
“It’s still daytime, you know.” The mage drawled.
The woman sighed as she settled under the covers. “Don’t pretend you’re not exhausted, either. We hardly slept last night before running off. Now stop being an ass and come to bed.”
He laid a hand over his heart in mock surprise, “My, how forward of you! I never knew you cared!”
The Dragonborn propped herself up on her side to look at him. “Marcurio?”
Skuli had knocked on the door to rouse the travelers for supper. Though she had no plans for the night, the Dragonborn strapped her cuirass over her robes and strapped her sword to her waist. A little caution went a long way, and with a destiny like hers, she had quite a ways to go.
After they had eaten, the Imperial found a seat by the fire to nurse her mead.
“I see you’ve taken a liking to the local pastime.”
She didn’t need to look up to identify the speaker. “It has it’s own appeal.”
Marcurio cocked a brow. “More appeal than making my life difficult?”
She laughed at that. “Considering you practically volunteered? Yes.”
The mage groaned. “My lady, you are seriously abusing my talents.”
“Talents you need to learn to better control in close quarters.” She said dryly.
“It wouldn’t be a problem if you stopped putting me in harm’s way.”
“Isn’t being in harm’s way a requirement for mercenaries?” She asked innocently.
He couldn’t have been more indignant if he tried. “I am an apprentice wizard, not some common brute!”
“Indeed. And what is an Imperial mage from Cyrodiil doing as a mercenary in Skyrim?” She eyed him carefully over her drink.
“What is Imperial nobility doing as a Nord folk hero?” He returned easily.
“Some Call it Foolishness” F!DB/Marcurio 3/?
“Well, it’s buying you another night in a cozy inn.” She groused as she unceremoniously began stripping off her armour.
“It’s still daytime, you know.” The mage drawled.
The woman sighed as she settled under the covers. “Don’t pretend you’re not exhausted, either. We hardly slept last night before running off. Now stop being an ass and come to bed.”
He laid a hand over his heart in mock surprise, “My, how forward of you! I never knew you cared!”
The Dragonborn propped herself up on her side to look at him. “Marcurio?”
“ ‘Shut up?’ " he supplied.
She smiled at him before rolling over.
------------------------------------------------------
Skuli had knocked on the door to rouse the travelers for supper. Though she had no plans for the night, the Dragonborn strapped her cuirass over her robes and strapped her sword to her waist. A little caution went a long way, and with a destiny like hers, she had quite a ways to go.
After they had eaten, the Imperial found a seat by the fire to nurse her mead.
“I see you’ve taken a liking to the local pastime.”
She didn’t need to look up to identify the speaker. “It has it’s own appeal.”
Marcurio cocked a brow. “More appeal than making my life difficult?”
She laughed at that. “Considering you practically volunteered? Yes.”
The mage groaned. “My lady, you are seriously abusing my talents.”
“Talents you need to learn to better control in close quarters.” She said dryly.
“It wouldn’t be a problem if you stopped putting me in harm’s way.”
“Isn’t being in harm’s way a requirement for mercenaries?” She asked innocently.
He couldn’t have been more indignant if he tried. “I am an apprentice wizard, not some common brute!”
“Indeed. And what is an Imperial mage from Cyrodiil doing as a mercenary in Skyrim?” She eyed him carefully over her drink.
“What is Imperial nobility doing as a Nord folk hero?” He returned easily.