She opened the door again, peering out into the dark street at the now steady flurry of snowflakes that were coming down, illuminated by the nearby lantern and guard’s torches. It was the third day in a row there was a snowstorm in the small town of Falkreath and with that snow came a gloomy fog that covered the area in the morning and lasted until the sun went down again. It was if Arkay was mocking them; even more so since it was supposed to be spring. All the other holds were starting to sow seeds and plan festivals and Falkreath remained trapped in an endless season of misery.
She closed the door and went back to the fire, placing a log on it. From the throne, her Jarl stirred, drinking a bit of mead from the bottle he had balancing on his armrest, the book he had in his hand still being read. Or appeared to be being read as sometimes he pretended just to get his steward, Nenya, away from him. Kjersti found herself hesitating. If she did not leave back to her abode near the lake, she feared she might not make it back at all.
She went forward to her Jarl, her heart pounding a bit as she came near and she stood for a minute to stare at him. Her eyes travelled over his chest and to his green eyes, highlighted by his black furs and newly purchased blue robes which he had taken from her purse. As much as it had pained her at the time, he did look handsome.
“Something you want, Thane?” he said irritated and she found herself stiffening. He wasn’t looking at her but he still knew she was gawking at him. She sighed internally.
“It’s getting late.”
“Thank you for the update,” he drawled and he furrowed his brows as he flipped a page of the book. He wasn’t reading it.
“My Jarl, please. Do you really, really need me for anything else?” she pleaded, stressing her desire to leave. She could see him become agitated, his shoulders flexing as he turned the page of his book and she found herself bowing before him. “My Jarl-!”
“I don’t like your tone, Kjersti,” he spat and she sighed, hanging her head down a bit. He moved and she once again found herself being used as a foot stool, his heels digging into her shoulder blades which made her wince.
Thankfully Nenya came down the stairs from her room after he did. “Siddgeir? Siddgeir! Honestly, get your feet off her!”
He barely moved, his eyes going up from his book to glare at his steward before they went back. Kjersti felt herself smile a bit but his heel twisting in her back made her stop. He finally removed his feet and she let out a sigh of relief, not moving from her bowed position. Nenya came up beside her and stood over the Jarl, glaring at him. He pretended to take no notice.
“Siddgeir.”
“Jarl Siddgeir,” he corrected her and she grit her teeth.
“It’s late. Let her go home.”
He said nothing, flipping through the book rather rapidly before he shut it and sat up a bit, his eyes meeting Nenya’s. Kjersti said nothing as she watched silently from her position.
“No,” he finally said and Nenya crossed her arms, not standing down. He stood up, almost meeting her height from his position before he shoved past her. “Kjersti, get in here.”
Sometimes Things Get Complicated [1/?]
She closed the door and went back to the fire, placing a log on it. From the throne, her Jarl stirred, drinking a bit of mead from the bottle he had balancing on his armrest, the book he had in his hand still being read. Or appeared to be being read as sometimes he pretended just to get his steward, Nenya, away from him. Kjersti found herself hesitating. If she did not leave back to her abode near the lake, she feared she might not make it back at all.
She went forward to her Jarl, her heart pounding a bit as she came near and she stood for a minute to stare at him. Her eyes travelled over his chest and to his green eyes, highlighted by his black furs and newly purchased blue robes which he had taken from her purse. As much as it had pained her at the time, he did look handsome.
“Something you want, Thane?” he said irritated and she found herself stiffening. He wasn’t looking at her but he still knew she was gawking at him. She sighed internally.
“It’s getting late.”
“Thank you for the update,” he drawled and he furrowed his brows as he flipped a page of the book. He wasn’t reading it.
“My Jarl, please. Do you really, really need me for anything else?” she pleaded, stressing her desire to leave. She could see him become agitated, his shoulders flexing as he turned the page of his book and she found herself bowing before him. “My Jarl-!”
“I don’t like your tone, Kjersti,” he spat and she sighed, hanging her head down a bit. He moved and she once again found herself being used as a foot stool, his heels digging into her shoulder blades which made her wince.
Thankfully Nenya came down the stairs from her room after he did. “Siddgeir? Siddgeir! Honestly, get your feet off her!”
He barely moved, his eyes going up from his book to glare at his steward before they went back. Kjersti felt herself smile a bit but his heel twisting in her back made her stop. He finally removed his feet and she let out a sigh of relief, not moving from her bowed position. Nenya came up beside her and stood over the Jarl, glaring at him. He pretended to take no notice.
“Siddgeir.”
“Jarl Siddgeir,” he corrected her and she grit her teeth.
“It’s late. Let her go home.”
He said nothing, flipping through the book rather rapidly before he shut it and sat up a bit, his eyes meeting Nenya’s. Kjersti said nothing as she watched silently from her position.
“No,” he finally said and Nenya crossed her arms, not standing down. He stood up, almost meeting her height from his position before he shoved past her. “Kjersti, get in here.”