They sat in the kitchen, Ulfberth serving her hot stew from a kettle over the fire, and a chunk of bread slathered in fresh goat cheese. Brielle tried not to devour it too quickly, but it was the first food she’d had in far too long, and it was delicious. Lightly spiced and full of meat and vegetables.
“Please keep eating while I explain the terms,” Ulfberth said, finally bringing their conversation back to the main topic. He passed her some mulled mead before sitting down across from her. “Adrianne and I have a special sort of marriage. One which allows others into our relationship from time to time.
“Now, Adrianne approves of you, or you wouldn’t be here right now. And clearly you’re in a difficult position.
“We’re not a charity. We don’t hand things out, and you’ll be expected to work off what we give you. There are a few options for this. You could work at the forge, making the swords and equipment that Adrianne needs to keep the Imperials equipped. It would take you many months of gathering ores and smithing them, but we would pay you fairly for your time and labor.
“Or, you can pay with your body.” He paused, for effect, or to let it sink in. She wasn’t sure. “One week at my beck and call.”
Brielle eyed him warily. This was a joke, right? Ulfberth was… well, he was a fine man. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with muscles which came from hard work. His dark hair and beard were groomed and kept trimmed neatly. His eyes were a lovely blue, and even the scar on his cheek was attractive. She opened her mouth to reply, rethought, and instead bit her bottom lip.
Working her debt off at the forge was the more respectable option. And if it had been anyone but Ulfberth, she would have chosen that option. But, if she were honest with herself, she had to admit that she’d had more than a little crush on the man.
Steeling her courage, Brielle drained her mead, and set the goblet on the table firmly.
“I choose the second option.” She said, raising her chin and challenging him with her gaze. She would do this, and she would “When do we start?”
“In the morning.” He said. “For today you’re free to do as you please. You are welcome to eat supper here, and you may sleep by our hearth tonight if you wish. Or you are welcome to make other arrangements. But at dawn, you’re mine.”
With that, he stood and left the room. Brielle took a deep breath, and let herself sag. She was exhausted. She’d spent so long fighting, and she was emotionally and physically drained. But she wouldn’t show weakness.
She was strong. She was powerful. She was the Dragonborn and she would be respected. Feared, even. Nobody would ever know of this.
She took another slow, deep breath, stood, and headed out into Whiterun. __
The Companions’ hall offered everything Brielle needed to pass the day. Food, alcohol, and warriors who were more interested in her ability to keep up with their drinking than her backstory. She found herself a place in an unoccupied bed, and slept off the day’s activities.
Shopkeeper -- Ulfberth/F!DB, Adrianne/F!Db -- 1b/?
“Please keep eating while I explain the terms,” Ulfberth said, finally bringing their conversation back to the main topic. He passed her some mulled mead before sitting down across from her. “Adrianne and I have a special sort of marriage. One which allows others into our relationship from time to time.
“Now, Adrianne approves of you, or you wouldn’t be here right now. And clearly you’re in a difficult position.
“We’re not a charity. We don’t hand things out, and you’ll be expected to work off what we give you. There are a few options for this. You could work at the forge, making the swords and equipment that Adrianne needs to keep the Imperials equipped. It would take you many months of gathering ores and smithing them, but we would pay you fairly for your time and labor.
“Or, you can pay with your body.” He paused, for effect, or to let it sink in. She wasn’t sure. “One week at my beck and call.”
Brielle eyed him warily. This was a joke, right? Ulfberth was… well, he was a fine man. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with muscles which came from hard work. His dark hair and beard were groomed and kept trimmed neatly. His eyes were a lovely blue, and even the scar on his cheek was attractive. She opened her mouth to reply, rethought, and instead bit her bottom lip.
Working her debt off at the forge was the more respectable option. And if it had been anyone but Ulfberth, she would have chosen that option. But, if she were honest with herself, she had to admit that she’d had more than a little crush on the man.
Steeling her courage, Brielle drained her mead, and set the goblet on the table firmly.
“I choose the second option.” She said, raising her chin and challenging him with her gaze. She would do this, and she would “When do we start?”
“In the morning.” He said. “For today you’re free to do as you please. You are welcome to eat supper here, and you may sleep by our hearth tonight if you wish. Or you are welcome to make other arrangements. But at dawn, you’re mine.”
With that, he stood and left the room. Brielle took a deep breath, and let herself sag. She was exhausted. She’d spent so long fighting, and she was emotionally and physically drained. But she wouldn’t show weakness.
She was strong. She was powerful. She was the Dragonborn and she would be respected. Feared, even. Nobody would ever know of this.
She took another slow, deep breath, stood, and headed out into Whiterun.
__
The Companions’ hall offered everything Brielle needed to pass the day. Food, alcohol, and warriors who were more interested in her ability to keep up with their drinking than her backstory. She found herself a place in an unoccupied bed, and slept off the day’s activities.