“Bring me some potions,” he commanded, walking past them to his personal tent. “A soldier is hurt.”
She hid her eyes when he said it and the men stood in place for a moment before dispersing, one grabbing a few potions while the others went back to pretending to work. Fasendil sighed and stepped into his tent, placing her gently on his bed. The whispers of his men drifted to his ears.
“What soldier? Who is that?”
“She isn’t wearing our uniforms. How does the boss know she’s one of us?”
“Somethin’ ain’t right.”
“Quiet! He’s looking this way!”
Fasendil glared at his men until one came forward with a large red bottle. He took it from him and dismissed the soldier before sitting on the side of the bed and handing it to Sadaoni. She took it with a delicate grip and struggled to get the top off before he reached over and did it.
“T-Thank you,” she softly said as she began to drink and he watched her, his eyes going to the wound. Her breathing stopped being so harsh once she had swallowed a small portion of it and when she had consumed past the halfway point, her body relaxed and she no longer seemed so bothered by the pain. It took her a few more tries to drink right to the bottom but once she had she seemed as if she had never been harmed at all.
He reached down to her side, feeling it and his fingers brushed against a foreign object. He pulled it and out came the broken end of an arrow, her skin closing up where it had been. He held it for her to see and she sighed, taking it from him. “I guess one of them had a better aim than I gave them credit for.”
He only stared at her and she shifted uncomfortably on his bed.
“Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?” he asked again. She rolled the arrowhead between her fingers, avoiding the question. “Why did you shoot at me? Why are you in this strange gear? Where’s Legate Rikke?”
“I didn’t mean to,” she breathed out. “I… didn’t recognize you. I thought you were a bandit who stole our Legion’s gear.”
He pressed his lips together. He recalled hearing about things like that on the roads. It disgusted him that there were criminals killing their men and exploiting travelers with such rouses but he had no way to control it. “Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?”
“Rikke is at Castle Dour,” she finally said, answering his previous question and ignoring his once again repeated one. “General Tullius decided not to take the Rift.”
Fasendil frowned. “Why not?”
She sighed. “Too few men right now, not enough funds, take your pick,” she said quietly. “He’s focused on Winterhold right now before taking something as large as the Rift. Thinks it will come in handy if Ulfric moves North.”
Fasendil said nothing but he contemplated what she said. They had taken Dawnstar months before as he recalled. A heroic effort which had cost the Empire more soldiers than they anticipated but it was secured for them now. He could almost feeling the Thalmor laughing from the shadows over it and he reached up and rubbed his temples. The General was probably right in his insight; taking the Rift now would be disastrous and helping the Thalmor and their dirty plans further than needed.
It still didn’t answer his question. “What are you doing here, Sadaoni?” There was a long stretch of silence between them and she placed the arrowhead on his bedside table before she attempted to get up. “Sadaoni!”
She stopped but she refused to meet his eyes. He found his heart sinking and he had to ask. “Have they expelled you from the Legion?”
Her head snapped up in almost horror. “No!”
He relaxed. That was a relief. “Then where is your armor?”
She gave him a defiant look before her shoulders fell and she looked to the boards covering the ground. “I don’t like it. I cannot move with it on so I am wearing the armor I need,” she said. “I have not been given orders to be deployed yet so I am allowed to do whatever business I wish until I am. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
What You Get [3/?]
Date: 2014-01-07 03:49 pm (UTC)She hid her eyes when he said it and the men stood in place for a moment before dispersing, one grabbing a few potions while the others went back to pretending to work. Fasendil sighed and stepped into his tent, placing her gently on his bed. The whispers of his men drifted to his ears.
“What soldier? Who is that?”
“She isn’t wearing our uniforms. How does the boss know she’s one of us?”
“Somethin’ ain’t right.”
“Quiet! He’s looking this way!”
Fasendil glared at his men until one came forward with a large red bottle. He took it from him and dismissed the soldier before sitting on the side of the bed and handing it to Sadaoni. She took it with a delicate grip and struggled to get the top off before he reached over and did it.
“T-Thank you,” she softly said as she began to drink and he watched her, his eyes going to the wound. Her breathing stopped being so harsh once she had swallowed a small portion of it and when she had consumed past the halfway point, her body relaxed and she no longer seemed so bothered by the pain. It took her a few more tries to drink right to the bottom but once she had she seemed as if she had never been harmed at all.
He reached down to her side, feeling it and his fingers brushed against a foreign object. He pulled it and out came the broken end of an arrow, her skin closing up where it had been. He held it for her to see and she sighed, taking it from him. “I guess one of them had a better aim than I gave them credit for.”
He only stared at her and she shifted uncomfortably on his bed.
“Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?” he asked again. She rolled the arrowhead between her fingers, avoiding the question. “Why did you shoot at me? Why are you in this strange gear? Where’s Legate Rikke?”
“I didn’t mean to,” she breathed out. “I… didn’t recognize you. I thought you were a bandit who stole our Legion’s gear.”
He pressed his lips together. He recalled hearing about things like that on the roads. It disgusted him that there were criminals killing their men and exploiting travelers with such rouses but he had no way to control it. “Sadaoni, what are you doing out here?”
“Rikke is at Castle Dour,” she finally said, answering his previous question and ignoring his once again repeated one. “General Tullius decided not to take the Rift.”
Fasendil frowned. “Why not?”
She sighed. “Too few men right now, not enough funds, take your pick,” she said quietly. “He’s focused on Winterhold right now before taking something as large as the Rift. Thinks it will come in handy if Ulfric moves North.”
Fasendil said nothing but he contemplated what she said. They had taken Dawnstar months before as he recalled. A heroic effort which had cost the Empire more soldiers than they anticipated but it was secured for them now. He could almost feeling the Thalmor laughing from the shadows over it and he reached up and rubbed his temples. The General was probably right in his insight; taking the Rift now would be disastrous and helping the Thalmor and their dirty plans further than needed.
It still didn’t answer his question. “What are you doing here, Sadaoni?” There was a long stretch of silence between them and she placed the arrowhead on his bedside table before she attempted to get up. “Sadaoni!”
She stopped but she refused to meet his eyes. He found his heart sinking and he had to ask. “Have they expelled you from the Legion?”
Her head snapped up in almost horror. “No!”
He relaxed. That was a relief. “Then where is your armor?”
She gave him a defiant look before her shoulders fell and she looked to the boards covering the ground. “I don’t like it. I cannot move with it on so I am wearing the armor I need,” she said. “I have not been given orders to be deployed yet so I am allowed to do whatever business I wish until I am. Does that satisfy your curiosity?”
“No,” he admitted. “But it will do.”
She didn’t seem pleased by his response.