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“The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 7h/7

[(Anonymous)]

“Oh, Olria,” Farengar sighed. “Do not make me say it again. I will not ask you to leave. Actually, I would very much prefer it if you stayed. Otherwise, I would have to pack up and follow you… which might be a bit inconvenient.” His lips twitched. “I would need a wagon to drag along all my books.”

That surprised a laugh from the woman. “But what will I do?” she asked.

“After convincing Jarl Balgruuf that he needs to send Arcadia away from Whiterun, I spoke with him concerning your potential employment. There are a few options available. He agreed that I could offer you a wage as my research assistant. Alternatively, he would pay you even more if you would serve as a medic for his soldiers. And of course, Danica assured me that you are always more than welcome at the Temple of Kynareth. She would continue to pay you an allowance for your help.”

Olria’s head began to spin. It had never crossed Olria’s mind that the Jarl might employ her. This could work. Farengar had thought of everything. He was completely, utterly serious about this. “Would I still have a chance to visit my family?” she asked.

“Of course,” Farengar said.

Olria’s face cracked into a huge grin that hurt her cheeks. “This,” she announced, “is definitely one of the best days of my life.”

Farengar smiled back at her. “So you will stay?” he asked, sounding about as worried as Olria had been only moments ago.

Olria pretended to ponder for a moment. Then she said, “As long as you will agree to come meet my family.”

Farengar scoffed. “If I managed to persuade the Jarl to give me time off to visit a dragon nest,” he said, “I am sure he will approve of a mundane venture to a farmhouse.”

Olria squealed, leaping forward to wrap her arms around Farengar’s neck. He held her tightly and kissed her forehead.

“But tell me,” Olria said, “Why did my parents return your money?”

Farengar looked sheepish. “Because I sent back the most recent payment for your apprenticeship.”

Olria stared at him. “What did you say?”

The court wizard shrugged. “If you feel guilty about it, just consider the return of the money as a scholarship. You are the brightest and most dedicated apprentice I have ever had the pleasure of training.”

Olria regarded him with narrowed eyes. She liked to keep things fair, and she didn’t want him to deny himself the payment he deserved because he pitied her family’s finances. In light of his words, his decision had at least been reasonable. Perhaps he’d bent the rules a bit… but if he’d done it out of pity, he certainly wasn’t showing it.

Her eyes returned to the portrait on the desk. She touched the edge of the parchment, still in awe. “I need a frame for this,” she said. “I could hang it in my room.”

Farengar paused. Olria glanced at him. He met her eyes. “Our room?” he asked.

Olria blinked. Then she blushed. Abruptly, she said, “There is something I need to do in town today.” It wasn’t fair that he’d given her something so lovely and she had nothing to give to him.

“If you are thinking about squeezing some more time in at the temple…”

“No!” Olria protested. “Nothing like that. But it is a secret, so you’ll have to sit tight for a while.”

Farengar grumbled. He slid his chair away from the desk to give the woman room to stand. “I was hoping to show you some other interesting differences I noted between the dragon we saw and the illustrations from Windhelm,” he said.

“I won’t be long!” Olria promised. She bit her lip and ignored his frown, skipping out of the workroom.

Her heart was racing as she burst out of the keep doors. Standing for a moment on the stone walkway, she took several deep breaths. She felt dizzy and giddy all at once. Grinning, she headed down into the city. The letter she was expecting from the appraiser in Solitude was already late as it was. She prayed that she’d have the good fortune of a courier finding today in the city square. If not, she’d have to think of something else.

She did not wait more than half an hour before a courier stopped by. The gods must have heard her silent plea. That was the only explanation.

The courier glanced at Olria and down at the envelope he held. “Didn’t I just give you a letter yesterday?” he complained. “I had to come all the way back to Whiterun when this one passed into my hands.”