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

[(Anonymous)]

***

The following morning, Olria stirred. The empty vial of Child’s Bane on the bedside table captured the torchlight that snuck under the bedroom door. The glass threw orange-tinted sparkles around the room.

Olria rubbed her eyes and yawned, kicking away the sheets that were tangled around her feet. Farengar breathed gently beside her, bare body robed in shadows. She watched him for a while, memorizing every detail of this man that was now so dear to her. She didn’t realize he was awake until he asked, “So, graduate, how do you feel?”

Olria startled and blushed. How long had he been watching her? Olria nestled against his shoulder, kissing his chest. “The same, mostly. Maybe spoiled.”

The man’s chest rumbled as he chuckled. His trailed his knuckles down her arm. “I have no idea what sort of life I would have led a decade down the road if you had not walked into my workroom all those months ago.”

Olria remained silent. She bit her lip, her heart thudding.

“I tried so hard to remain distanced. It had been a couple years since I dared take on a new apprentice. The last one died. Wolves. Could not even cast strong enough Flames to singe their pelts.” Farengar hesitated. “Hunters found his body two weeks later.” A shiver coursed through him. “He’d had a letter from his mother in the front pocket of his robes. That was the only way they could identify him.”

Olria’s stomach roiled. She smoothed a hand over his chest. “I see why you wanted me to learn Flames,” Olria said, voice soft.

“But I was not thinking clearly,” he replied. “I should have known restoration would have been just as effective. I am only sorry it took me so long to see it.” He didn’t speak for a while. “I was responsible for a lot of your hardships when you came to Whiterun.”

“Farengar,” Olria whispered. She rolled onto his belly, sliding up his chest until she could see his face. “I told you I have forgiven you. But I won’t forgive you for continually beating yourself up about it. It’s in the past. What we have now more than makes up for our shaky start. Agreed?”

His lips curved into a smile. Farengar lifted his head to kiss her, soft lips brushing against hers.

Olria smiled down at him. To most people, he had such a snappish and unfriendly exterior. At heart, Olria knew, he was an incredibly loving and gentle man. Olra swallowed hard. “I decided I’ll take a job here,” she said. “Either at the temple or for the Jarl. I want to stay with you.”

“And I want you to stay,” Farengar’s words almost tripped over hers. His arms wrapped around her, keeping her close. “You have snuck under my skin and made me a different man. A better one.”

Olria kissed his nose. “Well,” she grinned, “Better to me, at least. You’re still horrid to the servants. I promised them, by the way, that I’d talk to you about that.”

Farengar grimaced. He pushed her off his chest, and Olria rolled back onto the bed with a giggle. “Guess that means it’s time I get to work,” the woman announced. “After spending most of yesterday in bed, I feel almost deprived.”

Olria moved to sit up, but Farengar’s hand caught her hip and towed her back onto the bed like a fish on a line. “Oh, no,” he growled, hugging her close. “Listen to how quiet it is out there. It is no later than four in the morning. No one is dying. Must I wound myself to convince you to stay an hour or two longer?”

Olria laughed and punched his shoulder. She tried to wiggle away, but he pinned her down with his weight and thoroughly kissed her. Breathless, Olria said, “Fine, I’ll keep you company for another two hours.” Her eyes glittered. “But it will leave you asleep until lunch.”

Farengar only smiled. “We will see about that.” His lips met hers, warm and as welcoming as home. Olria sighed and nestled closer. Farengar reached down and tugged the sheets over their heads, blanketing them both in darkness.

***

The End