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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
“The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 5a/?
Date: 2013-10-06 10:16 pm (UTC)***
The next morning, Olria woke alone in bed. She stirred muzzily in the darkness. The room door was open a crack, letting in a sliver of light. The woman yawned and looked around for her nightgown. Farengar had left it neatly folded at the end of the bed. She put it on and left his room.
Out in the workroom, the man in question was tightening the laces on his pack. The desk was empty, the objects that normally resided there already stowed away from thieving hands. Farengar had locked tight his cabinets full or spelltomes and research.
“Good morning,” he greeted her. The corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly more than usual. Most people wouldn’t notice. “We can leave once you have had some breakfast.”
Olria bit her lip to keep from grinning. Breakfast was a rushed affair. Olria had her knapsack ready to go, and they left only an hour after dawn.
Whiterun had no horses to spare after the Stormcloak siege, so the pair of them had to walk. They turned their steps west. Moody clouds bubbled overhead. Their dark underbellies promised rain – or snow, if they were unlucky.
Olria tugged her warm cloak tighter around her shoulders. She walked behind Farengar, following his footsteps. The man’s hood was up. All she could see was his breath steaming in the air. They walked until noon with only a brief rest.
The woman was accustomed to walking long distances. Her family barely had enough money to keep good boots on their feet, never mind buying horses. Olria sighed. She wondered how her parents and brother were doing, seeming so very far away.
Would they bring in enough harvest from the crops this year without Olria’s help? She worried for them, especially considering how they sent so much money every two months so she could continue her apprenticeship.
Before the attack on Whiterun, Danica began offering Olria a small allowance for her work at the temple. Olria very much would have liked to buy some new clothes (Farengar had burned one pair, and the other two were getting scraggly). Unlike Farengar, she didn’t always want to run around the city wearing mage robes. She was only a novice and hardly deserved any attention the robes might catch.
However, Olria had decided against buying anything new for herself. Instead, she’d saved for a few weeks and then hired a courier to deliver the money to her family. If anything, it would at least help them pay for her apprenticeship.
She was so lucky that her family had done what they could to send her to Dragonsreach. More than they could ever know.
“Olria,” she heard Farengar call her out of her thoughts. Up ahead, the man had paused, standing on a rocky outcropping to overlook the valley below.
The woman joined him on the sheer plateau. She followed the line of his arm as he pointed south. Huge, shaggy mammoths crossed the plains, made hazy by the distance. Great, lumbering giants walked with them, stone mauls resting on their shoulders. Olria held her breath, unable to comprehend their size so far away.
“Let us veer north of them,” her mentor suggested. “We would not want a mammoth stepping on our campsite in the middle of the night.”
They continued on their journey. The terrain grew more rugged as they entered the foothills of the mountains. As the sun began to set, Farengar pointed out a snowy peak in the distance. “Does that look familiar?” he asked.
Olria shaded her eyes against the blinding red glow of the sunset. “A vertical left side, an arc on the right… curved, bowl-like summit… that has to be the nest. It matches the illustration in the letter.”
“My thoughts precisely.” Farengar squinted up at the mountain peak. “We should be able to make it there sometime tomorrow afternoon. Come on, we have to look for somewhere to build our camp for the night.”
The air grew chill as darkness settled in around them. The nearby streams running off the mountains were cold and clear. Olria stomped down the brittle brush so they could set up a low tent and arrange rocks in a circle for a campfire. It took a while to find wood and build the flames, but Farengar soon had a pot of boiling water hanging over the fire. Olria helped the man cut up and add potatoes, beans, dried venison, and barely.
Re: “The Spring Wind That Blew Through Dragonsreach” F!OC/Farengar Secret-Fire, 5a/?
Date: 2013-10-08 11:38 am (UTC)