Just as a note, I realized part 2d’s line got cut off somehow, and was a bit important… It should have read: Farengar choked on his wine. He cleared his throat and managed not to sputter. He gave her a narrow-eyed look and shrugged. “I realized that I have not been treating you fairly,” he said. “Let us consider starting anew.”
Thanks OP! Don’t worry, I love all the comments. It’s awesome seeing responses to each section! I took your Olria analogy to heart and had a few days off, but now I’m back to work on the story. Enjoy!
***
Olria had wanted to stay with Farengar in Dragonsreach. She was worried for him, and she didn’t like venturing alone into Whiterun. His presence made her feel safe. Ever since he’d rescued her from the flames in her room, quenching the fire with a thought, she’d known of his strength. In her mind, there was no safer place in Whiterun than by his side.
And he was sending her away. He didn’t want her there. Why? Had nothing changed? Was she still just a stupid apprentice to him? She’d thought they’d moved past that.
Olria managed to enter Arcadia’s Cauldron just before the Imperial shopkeeper could begin hammering bolts and nails into her door. “What are you doing here?” Arcadia asked. “Don’t you know the Stormcloaks are about to attack?”
“Farengar sent me,” Olria tried. The excuse sounded lame to her ears.
“What! Why?”
“To… deliver these frost salts. He said I should stay here during the attack.”
Understanding dawned in the woman’s eyes. “I see,” she said. “Well, come inside.”
Olria went in and set the frost salts on the front desk. Then she sat in a chair. Her hands clenched fistfuls of her robes, wringing them. Loud hammering assaulted her ears as Arcadia firmly sealed doorways and windows.
“There,” the shopkeeper said. “No traitorous Stormcloaks will be making their way in here.” She propped her hands on her hips and turned to Olria. “I’m glad you brought me these frost salts. It’ll give me something to do while we wait out the fight.”
“What are they for?” Olria asked, hoping to distract herself from her anxiety.
“A love elixir,” Arcadia replied. Her eyes became dreamy. “I should have tried frost salts before. You see, including it in my potion will surely thaw even the coldest of hearts.”
Olria frowned. The other woman went to her alchemy station, beginning to brew a mixture right away. Olria envied Arcadia’s nonchalance about the bloodshed that was about to begin outdoors.
“Maybe you will be able to deliver this potion for me on your way back to Dragonsreach,” Arcadia said with her back turned.
Olria pinched the bridge of her nose. Try as she might, she could not quell the slow tide of panic rising in her chest, clutching at her heart. “Deliver the love potion? To whom?” she asked.
“Why, to your esteemed mentor, of course!” the woman said. She turned around and grinned. “I’ve been working for months on this project! The stubborn man must have guessed I was up to something because he kept brushing off my requests for the frost salts.” She turned back to her potion, humming to herself.
Olria, whose chest was already tight, almost choked. “For Farengar?” she squeezed out. “You are trying to make him fall in love with you?” At a time like this? The woman had to be joking.
“Wouldn’t it be marvellous?” Arcadia sighed. “He’s such a stubborn man. I’ve been trying for years to thaw that heart. He really doesn’t speak much to anyone, you know. He won’t even discuss his research with anyone except the Jarl!” Arcadia swayed her hips and smirked. “That man needs to straighten out his priorities.”
As she spoke, a deep groan shuddered through the earth. Vases and potions rattled in the cabinets. Dust filtered down from the ceiling.
“The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 3a/?
Thanks OP! Don’t worry, I love all the comments. It’s awesome seeing responses to each section! I took your Olria analogy to heart and had a few days off, but now I’m back to work on the story. Enjoy!
***
Olria had wanted to stay with Farengar in Dragonsreach. She was worried for him, and she didn’t like venturing alone into Whiterun. His presence made her feel safe. Ever since he’d rescued her from the flames in her room, quenching the fire with a thought, she’d known of his strength. In her mind, there was no safer place in Whiterun than by his side.
And he was sending her away. He didn’t want her there. Why? Had nothing changed? Was she still just a stupid apprentice to him? She’d thought they’d moved past that.
Olria managed to enter Arcadia’s Cauldron just before the Imperial shopkeeper could begin hammering bolts and nails into her door. “What are you doing here?” Arcadia asked. “Don’t you know the Stormcloaks are about to attack?”
“Farengar sent me,” Olria tried. The excuse sounded lame to her ears.
“What! Why?”
“To… deliver these frost salts. He said I should stay here during the attack.”
Understanding dawned in the woman’s eyes. “I see,” she said. “Well, come inside.”
Olria went in and set the frost salts on the front desk. Then she sat in a chair. Her hands clenched fistfuls of her robes, wringing them. Loud hammering assaulted her ears as Arcadia firmly sealed doorways and windows.
“There,” the shopkeeper said. “No traitorous Stormcloaks will be making their way in here.” She propped her hands on her hips and turned to Olria. “I’m glad you brought me these frost salts. It’ll give me something to do while we wait out the fight.”
“What are they for?” Olria asked, hoping to distract herself from her anxiety.
“A love elixir,” Arcadia replied. Her eyes became dreamy. “I should have tried frost salts before. You see, including it in my potion will surely thaw even the coldest of hearts.”
Olria frowned. The other woman went to her alchemy station, beginning to brew a mixture right away. Olria envied Arcadia’s nonchalance about the bloodshed that was about to begin outdoors.
“Maybe you will be able to deliver this potion for me on your way back to Dragonsreach,” Arcadia said with her back turned.
Olria pinched the bridge of her nose. Try as she might, she could not quell the slow tide of panic rising in her chest, clutching at her heart. “Deliver the love potion? To whom?” she asked.
“Why, to your esteemed mentor, of course!” the woman said. She turned around and grinned. “I’ve been working for months on this project! The stubborn man must have guessed I was up to something because he kept brushing off my requests for the frost salts.” She turned back to her potion, humming to herself.
Olria, whose chest was already tight, almost choked. “For Farengar?” she squeezed out. “You are trying to make him fall in love with you?” At a time like this? The woman had to be joking.
“Wouldn’t it be marvellous?” Arcadia sighed. “He’s such a stubborn man. I’ve been trying for years to thaw that heart. He really doesn’t speak much to anyone, you know. He won’t even discuss his research with anyone except the Jarl!” Arcadia swayed her hips and smirked. “That man needs to straighten out his priorities.”
As she spoke, a deep groan shuddered through the earth. Vases and potions rattled in the cabinets. Dust filtered down from the ceiling.
Outside, the battle had begun.