Apologies for the long wait, kind readers. It is midterm season at the university, and you all know what that means... On a positive note, this update is a bit longer than the last.
(By the way, OP, I replied to your DnD question above.)
Thanks again to everyone for reading and all the inspirational comments! I am pretty sure I check the thread more often for comments than people do for updates… ;)
***
It took the pair of them two days to return to Whiterun. Olria felt relieved to pass through the huge gates and back into the city early that evening. She and Farengar were exhausted. They both dragged their feet up the road. Their bedraggled appearance and charred robes earned more than a few suspicious looks.
By the time they arrived at the keep, Farengar’s fatigue had put him in a sour mood. The man reamed out a servant when he noticed someone had picked the lock to his potions cabinet. “Are you deaf as well as blind?” he snapped at a serving woman. “I was here when the Jarl told you to ensure no one mucked around in my workroom while I was away. Can you not see someone’s thieving hands have been all over my potions?”
Olria smiled apologetically, but the woman still left in a huff. Farengar muttered under his breath and began taking stock of his potions. His apprentice merely requested some tea and a late dinner from a passing servant (albeit sheepishly) and sat waiting at his desk.
“That is… odd,” Farengar said.
“Odd?” Olria asked. “Odd that you just insulted that poor servant?”
Farengar scowled. “Not that. I have every right to be angry. You would think a soldier or a servant would notice someone stealing from the court wizard. Do the guards just stand there to look pretty?”
Olria waved him away. She smirked when her easy dismissal annoyed the man. It was a trick she’d learned from the master himself. “What’s so odd, then?”
Farengar’s lips twitched. “For one thing,” he said, “As far as I can tell, nothing is actually missing.” He picked up a healing potion and held it up to the light for scrutiny. The mage shrugged and set the potion beside Olria on the desk.
While they both waited for their late dinner, he reorganized the potions cabinet. When the servant returned, she gave Farengar a glare and set a tray of food on the desk, along with two cups and a steaming kettle of tea.
Farengar ignored the servant, although Olria thanked the woman. The court wizard sat beside Olria and popped the cork off his healing potion. He added a healthy dose to the tea.
Olria raised one eyebrow at him.
“I have a headache,” he muttered. “Not enough sleep. Besides, your body is still recovering from your injuries and its recent healing.”
“Mhm.” Olria poured tea for them both. She sipped appreciatively. They ate in weary silence.
When he was done, Farengar sighed and rested his chin in one hand, elbow on the desk. He drank the rest of his tea and set the cup aside, staring at the wooden grains of the desk. “You should eat more,” he complained, not for the first time.
Olria blinked. “What?”
Farengar’s eyes shifted to hers. “You work so hard that you forget to eat.”
Olria bowed her head in acknowledgement. Sometimes there were things more important than putting food in her mouth. She helped herself to the leftovers of their meal, even though she was tired and all she wanted to do was collapse onto a soft mattress.
Farengar supervised her until not a scrap of their dinner remained. Then he nodded and stood. “I am going to bed,” he said, shuffling away to his room.
Olria bit her lip. She pushed their chairs in and then went to her room to change into her nightdress. She considered sleeping in her own bed after Farengar had so abruptly retired. After a minute, she changed her mind and went to his room, closing the door behind her.
Farengar was already in bed, eyes closed. His face was pale. There were dark circles under his eyes. Olria crawled under the covers with him. “You really haven’t been getting much sleep, have you?” she whispered.
The man only grunted in response, rolling over to face the wall. He massaged his forehead with the heel of his hand.
Olria sighed and kissed his shoulder. Snuggling up against his back, she closed her eyes.
“The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 6a/?
(By the way, OP, I replied to your DnD question above.)
Thanks again to everyone for reading and all the inspirational comments! I am pretty sure I check the thread more often for comments than people do for updates… ;)
***
It took the pair of them two days to return to Whiterun. Olria felt relieved to pass through the huge gates and back into the city early that evening. She and Farengar were exhausted. They both dragged their feet up the road. Their bedraggled appearance and charred robes earned more than a few suspicious looks.
By the time they arrived at the keep, Farengar’s fatigue had put him in a sour mood. The man reamed out a servant when he noticed someone had picked the lock to his potions cabinet. “Are you deaf as well as blind?” he snapped at a serving woman. “I was here when the Jarl told you to ensure no one mucked around in my workroom while I was away. Can you not see someone’s thieving hands have been all over my potions?”
Olria smiled apologetically, but the woman still left in a huff. Farengar muttered under his breath and began taking stock of his potions. His apprentice merely requested some tea and a late dinner from a passing servant (albeit sheepishly) and sat waiting at his desk.
“That is… odd,” Farengar said.
“Odd?” Olria asked. “Odd that you just insulted that poor servant?”
Farengar scowled. “Not that. I have every right to be angry. You would think a soldier or a servant would notice someone stealing from the court wizard. Do the guards just stand there to look pretty?”
Olria waved him away. She smirked when her easy dismissal annoyed the man. It was a trick she’d learned from the master himself. “What’s so odd, then?”
Farengar’s lips twitched. “For one thing,” he said, “As far as I can tell, nothing is actually missing.” He picked up a healing potion and held it up to the light for scrutiny. The mage shrugged and set the potion beside Olria on the desk.
While they both waited for their late dinner, he reorganized the potions cabinet. When the servant returned, she gave Farengar a glare and set a tray of food on the desk, along with two cups and a steaming kettle of tea.
Farengar ignored the servant, although Olria thanked the woman. The court wizard sat beside Olria and popped the cork off his healing potion. He added a healthy dose to the tea.
Olria raised one eyebrow at him.
“I have a headache,” he muttered. “Not enough sleep. Besides, your body is still recovering from your injuries and its recent healing.”
“Mhm.” Olria poured tea for them both. She sipped appreciatively. They ate in weary silence.
When he was done, Farengar sighed and rested his chin in one hand, elbow on the desk. He drank the rest of his tea and set the cup aside, staring at the wooden grains of the desk. “You should eat more,” he complained, not for the first time.
Olria blinked. “What?”
Farengar’s eyes shifted to hers. “You work so hard that you forget to eat.”
Olria bowed her head in acknowledgement. Sometimes there were things more important than putting food in her mouth. She helped herself to the leftovers of their meal, even though she was tired and all she wanted to do was collapse onto a soft mattress.
Farengar supervised her until not a scrap of their dinner remained. Then he nodded and stood. “I am going to bed,” he said, shuffling away to his room.
Olria bit her lip. She pushed their chairs in and then went to her room to change into her nightdress. She considered sleeping in her own bed after Farengar had so abruptly retired. After a minute, she changed her mind and went to his room, closing the door behind her.
Farengar was already in bed, eyes closed. His face was pale. There were dark circles under his eyes. Olria crawled under the covers with him. “You really haven’t been getting much sleep, have you?” she whispered.
The man only grunted in response, rolling over to face the wall. He massaged his forehead with the heel of his hand.
Olria sighed and kissed his shoulder. Snuggling up against his back, she closed her eyes.
***