#‘i didn’t know what type of soup you like. so roach has made all of them’

[jaskierx]

maybe the reunion could be a mirror of s1 in that stede turns up at the exact moment that ed is in the process of doing something reckless bc he’s in his sad boy era

(not bc ed needs rescuing or anything. it’s going fine. until it’s not. because he’s like ‘hang on. is that stede’ and whoever he’s fighting decides to seize the day and Somebody gets themselves stabbed on the left in a way that misses all the important bits but is ultimately still Not Ideal)

and maybe ed ‘people like me don’t deserve nice things’ teach could get to wake up to stede stroking his hair and reading to him and getting roach to cook him an irresponsible amount of soup

[curvynerdfan]

Remedies and Recipes

Hey y’all! A friend of mine gave me the idea of Geralt rescueing the reader on a hunt and I kind of went wild with it(almost 2400 words). I hope y’all like it!

Requests are open!

I’m sorry if there are any mistakes, I read over it myself a couple of times and then post

Warnings: curse words?, burns

Geralt x Reader

Geralt of Rivia was renown for his skills at hunting down the most dangerous beasts known to man but even he was wary of the creature he was sent after this time. A dracolizard was from the same origin as dragons, yet more dangerous since there are many more in existence. This draconid can run and fly at astonishing speeds and is the only creature of dragon descent that still breathes fire. Even worse, a dracolizard had a venom-spiked tail. To be frank, Geralt wouldn’t be trekking through the wilderness to kill the beat if it wasn’t for Y/N.

Y/N was beloved by the town of Biala and one of the few people the Witcher held near and dear. She was known for being one with nature. Y/N had what could be considered a green thumb and a free spirit. Many townsfolk would rush to her when a loved one was sick or injured. Y/N cared deeply for the creatures that lived near her cottage and consistently fed and cared for the critters. When Geralt would visit, he’d hunt in the woods nearby but was always aware of her “sanctuary safe line” and made sure not to hunt an animal she may have a connection with. In thanks for all the times she has healed him and provided companionship, Geralt liked to hunt for her and stock her pantry with meat for the winter. Wolves protected her land from trespassers but would also cuddle her in the firelight. She loved to traipse through the woods and collect herbs and plants to use for remedies and recipes. Geralt can only assume that is how the dracolizard captured her.

Geralt tried to push worries out of his mind but all he could scent was burnt flesh and trees. He wasn’t sure how many people the beast had killed and devoured and it took everything in him to keep his head on straight. Usually that wasn’t hard for him to focus on a hunt. Y/N was special to him and now that he was being honest with himself - he’d break if something had happened to her.

Now that he was getting closer to killing the creature, he paused to down an elixir and coat his sword in draconid oil so the blade could slice through the dracolizard’s tough scales. He decided it would be best to leave Roach with his belongings tied to her and let her roam. After he killed the monster he could always whistle and she would find him. He was only six or seven miles from Y/N’s cottage and hoped that he wouldn’t have to search much further. Dracolizards were semi-intelligent, not as smart as a full-fledged dragon, but still very adept. Hopefully, the monster realized that Y/N was more valuable alive but wasn’t smart enough to realize you were important to the man hunting it.

Just as he readied himself and let Roach loose, he heard a vicious screech that made him flinch. Oh, he was definitely close. The elixir was beginning to kick in, as well. His reflexes were enhanced and he could now hear the beasts scales scraping against the charred trees to his left. He steadied the blade in his hand and grasped his shield.

The lizard-like monstrosity noticed the amber-eyed Witcher and raised it’s broad wings in offense. A growl escaped from it’s massive nuzzle filled with razor sharp teeth. The dracolizard’s body was pure muscle. Geralt broadened his stance as the monster began to stalk him. The two rotated in a circle, Geralt keeping a close eye on the creature’s spiky venom-filled tail. The last thing he wanted was to be struck by that.

Suddenly the dracolizard lunged at him letting at another gnarly screech and gnashed it’s teeth at his face. The Witcher blocked with his shield and swiped his sword at it’s chest, managing to rip through some of it’s flesh before rolling out of the way. Geralt quickly hopped back onto his feet and brought his foot down onto the beast’s massive tail. He hoped that this would deter the creature from using the powerful weapon against him. In retaliation, the monster unhinged it’s jaw and released a blast of unrelenting fire in the Witcher’s direction. Geralt barely managed to protect himself with his shield and realized too late that part of his shin was in the line of fire.

Geralt smelt the burning flesh and felt the searing pain and grit his teeth in annoyance.The monster then attempted to fly off but Geralt did not plan on letting it live to attack another dat and dropped his sword and shield in favor of grasping the draconid’s tail. Once he had a decent grasp around the wound he made earlier, he dug his heels in and pulled back. He continued to step backwards,planting his feet and pulling until the beast lost momentum and pain caused it to fall back to the ground and land stomach up.

Geralt quickly lunged for his sword and rolled away from another fiery blast. He ducked behind one of the few remaining trees and waited for the fire to stop. Geralt took a deep breath and launched himself out of his hiding spot, sword raised ready to strike. The dracolizard leapt forward and snapped its jaws. As Geralt ducked, he jabbed the sword upward and into the monster’s neck. Thankfully he hit the beast right in the middle of its throat and as it fell from its charge at him, it fell onto the sword. Unfortunately for Geralt this meant the gigantic draconid was on top of him.

The Witcher huffed in annoyance, “Fuck.”

He began to push the dracolizard off of his body with a groan. Geralt managed to get onto his knees and worked on catching his breath. Once he had a semi steady breath again, he heaved the monstrosity onto his shoulder and stood, shifting the beasts neck off of him. Free from the extra weight, Geralt shook his head and tried to clear his mind.

Once he had his bearings, the Witcher scanned the surrounding area for any other beasts or adversaries in his vicinity. The silence and lack of movement brought relief and worry for the mutant. On one hand it was nice to know that nothing else was going to attack him today but on the other hand, he still doesn’t know where his Y/N is. No, not HIS Y/N, just Y/N.

“Y/N! Y/N are you out here?” Geralt paused to listen before repeating.

He stomped through the forest searching for any signs of life. He kept searching and was becoming frantic looking for her when he heard a small whimper.

“Y/N”, he gasped.

Geralt lumbered towards the boulder he heard the noise come from.

The Witcher couldn’t help but gasp at the sight of her, “Oh, Y/NN.”

Her skin was a sickly pale, several shades lighter than her normal glow. There was a nasty bruise across her face and her nose had dried blood from when she must have hit her head. There was a large, grotesque burn spanning from the edge of her right shoulder and up her neck as well as several smaller burns and scalds on her body. Geralt grunted in annoyance. He wished he had decided to visit a day sooner. Y/N whimpered again and her face scrunched up in pain.

“Shhh, Y/N. It’s all gonna be okay. I’m here now, nothing else will hurt you ever again.”, Geralt soothed softly. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”

Geralt asked but didn’t expect a response and he didn’t get one. He bent down to pick her up trying to be wary of any obvious injuries. The Witcher slowly slid an arm under hers and then the other underneath her legs. Geralt let out a classic hmm, lifted her off the ground and away from the ground.

Y/N’s head lolled against his shoulder, “ mm, careful Gera---,” her words faded out but eventually she came to again to warn him, “there’s a , mmm there is a monster here” , she mumbled, “it’ll burn ya.”

Geralt couldn’t help but chuckle lowly and shake his head. Even gravely injured Y/N was worried about the Witcher’s safety. He whistled for Roach but kept his pace steady in the direction he last saw his mare. Roach trotted up to him and he gently asked her to stand as still as possible. Geralt lifted Y/N above his head and placed her on his mare. He then quickly mounted Roach and wrapped his arms around Y/N. He clicked his tongue and led Roach back to Y/N’s cottage.

As they approached the cottage, he noticed smoke bellowing from the wood-burning stove. Y/N had a knack for creating wonderful meals out of what the forest provided and he wouldn’t be surprised to see some type of stew or soup hanging above the fire.

He hopped off of Roach when he got close to the entry-way and quickly lifted Y/N off of Roach. He carried her cradled in his arms and nudged the door open with his foot. He walked through the threshold and straight towards her large bed. Geralt gently layed her down and began to rummage through her herb and medicinal plant collection.

“Need a new salve”, Y/N managed to groan out, “ used the last of it on other victims.”

Geralt hummed in acknowledgement, “Of course you helped everyone possible”

He began to collect the different ingredients he needed. He sliced multiple pieces of aloe vera from one of her many plants and then added calendula, lavender and comfrey. He ground the ingredients together with a mortar and pestle. Once he was sure the mixture was properly prepared, he paced back to her gently propped her against the pillows.

He peeled her dress away from her wounds and flinched when Y/N groaned in pain. Geralt wanted to get her out of the dirty dress and into something more comfortable but didn’t want to do so when she wasn’t coherent. There were also more pressing matters at hand. Once the dress was off of the burns and out of his way, he began to cover the burns with the salve. By the time Geralt got to the neck and shoulder burn, he could tell that Y/N had begun to relax. He gently dabbed the concoction onto the massive burn and reminded himself to ask her tomorrow for scar remedies. Y/N sighed and seemed to be drifting off to sleep.

“Not yet, love. Let me get you some water first then you can sleep all you want.”, Geralt promised.

“Mmmm, love? Finally admitting that you have feelings for me handsome?” Y/N asked gently with an edge of humor in her voice.

“Yeah, I guess I am”, Geralt said and quickly ducked out of the house, heading for the well.

Geralt led Roach to the well and filled up the trough with water for her. He decided to take off her saddle and anything else connected to her, happy to let her roam in the safety of Y/N’s sanctuary. He mumbled at Roach about his slip of the tongue and she neighed back.

Geralt shook his head in amusement “I know, I know.”

The Witcher then pulled more water from the well and filled a pitcher and a bucket to bring into the house. He gently shut the door behind them and placed the bucket on her vanity. Walking closer, he poured some of the water from the pitcher into a cup for her. He then cradled the back of her neck with his other hand and helped lift her so she could sip from the cup.

She hummed when the cold water hit the back of her throat and cooled the inner heat from being surrounded by the burning trees. Geralt then moved across the room to pick up a rag and dip it into the bucket of water. He then used the rag to wipe the dirt and soot off of her face before dipping it again and cleaning her arms and legs, careful to avoid the burns where he had just placed salve.

Y/N was beginning to softly snore and had snuggled down into her pillow. Now that he knew she was safe he decided to clean himself up and apply salve to the burn he received while slaying the dracolizard. He peeled off his leather armor and stripped off his shirt. He reaused the same rag from before. Geralt dipped it in the bucket of clean water and began to clean the dirt, soot and draconid blood from his body. Lastly, he cleaned his lower half, stripping completely to cange into a pair of the loose pants Y/N kept here for his visits and long stays. Completely clean, Geralt pulled a chair towards the bed so he could sit and watch over his self-proclaimed “love”.

Y/N’s eyes open at the sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floors. She lets out a grumble and Geralts’s eyes shift quickly to scan and make sure she was okay.

“Join me… love” She whispers with a little chuckle.

“ I, uh…” he stumbles over his words.

“Geralt, get in the bed.” she demanded, “I am trying to tell you, I love you too…” she paused and started to fall back asleep before mumbling out “ so, get over here and cuddle me”.

Geralt huffs in disbelief for crawling into the bed with Y/N. He gently slides towards the middle of the bed and lets her move and contort herself until she is comfortably resting with her head on his chest and right hand resting gently on his torso. The Witcher hums in content as the lovely beholder of remedies and recipes rests against him. He tenderly kisses the top of her head and lets himself loll to sleep as well.

💕I hope y’all enjoyed it 💕

Taglist: @justahopelessssromantic

[tastesoftamriel]

Whiterun, part 1 (a long tale by Talviel)

Middas, 4th of Frostfall, 4E 205. I was saddle sore from days on the road. Since leaving Riften, I had covered the three major cities up north: Windhelm, Winterhold, and Dawnstar. In between I’d encountered bandits, fellow travellers, all manner of beasts, as well as some unsavoury folk like necromancers and vampires. Yet in the three months since I left home, I didn’t feel as homesick as I thought I would. I had already travelled from one end of Skyrim to the other during the Dragon Crisis, and once I’d learned all I needed to learn, my heart was fully invested in discovering the rest of Tamriel that I’d only ever seen in maps and books. I downed a potion of stamina and continued to trudge south towards Whiterun, where my calling as Dovahkiin all began.

I reached the city of Whiterun early in the morning. One of the guards on patrol, who recognised me from the Battle for Whiterun, saluted me heartily and we spoke at length while I unloaded my horse, who I’d named Roach, and left her in the care of the stables. Sounding almost alarmed at my change in career since the defeat of Alduin, he wished me luck and pointed me to the Bannered Mare as they were apparently short-staffed since the Redguard woman, Saadia, who worked for them disappeared without a trace. I thanked him and I shouldered my satchel and sacks, labouring up the stairs towards the Plains District. The early risers greeted me warmly for having saved their city, but I waved them off modestly as I made my way through the market square and into the Bannered Mare. Ysolda, the new proprietor, had only just woken up and was occupied with lighting the pit fire in the middle of the room.

She turned to me, yawning, when the door swung open, and her face broke out into a wide grin. “Well look who it is, Talviel of Riften, the saviour of Whiterun and all of Skyrim. Welcome back, friend.” She said warmly, helping me lay down my heavy cargo. “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Ysolda. What was I meant to do, leave everyone to roast in the flames of the Stormcloaks and dragons? How are you? How goes business?” I asked, giving her a hug. “Business as usual, same faces and same antics. The city has been rebuilt since the battle, so well done you’d never think anything would have happened. But you’re here early, Dragonborn. Do you need a room?” “Actually, Ysolda, a guard tipped me off that you’re short of staff again. I’m now travelling as a cook, and would love to help out for a while, learn some recipes from you if I can.” She looked relieved and brushed a stray hair from her face. “I swear I’m cursed! Every person I hire either gets sacked or runs off. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, and I’m at my wit’s end trying to find someone to help me out here. How long are you planning on being in town for?” “Well, that depends really. I’ve covered Eastmarch, The Pale, and Winterhold in three months. Haven’t really learned much aside from at Candlehearth Hall and preparing a feast for Jarl Brunwulf Free-Winter in Windhelm. So depending on how much there is to learn, I’d say about a month or so.”

Ysolda smiled knowingly. “There’ll be plenty to keep you occupied. I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, as well as a big recipe book Hulda left for me. I also have contacts in old Balgruuf’s kitchen, so let’s just say you’ll be overstaying that month. Of course you get Saadia’s old room and three square meals a day, no questions asked, as well as 350 septims per month. Two days off a week, alternating with me. How does that sound?” “Sounds great, Ysolda. I’m in.” I said, and we hauled my things through the kitchen and up the stairs to a modest but clean room. Ysolda left me to unpack and freshen up, and when I was ready I came downstairs. “Right, it’s now almost nine. Markets should be busy by now. First order of every day is to make sure we get all the freshest ingredients.” She instructed me, and we made our way outside. Gawping faces and cheers surrounded me as I walked along, and I had to resist the urge to pull my hood up to hide my face. We purchased fresh fruit and vegetables from Carlotta Valentina,who was so happy to see me she insisted on gifting me with an enormous wheel of cheese. Staggering to the stall opposite, Anoriath the hunter let out a loud whoop of laughter when he saw me, partially hidden from view by the cheese. “What in Oblivion are you doing here, Dragonborn?” “Working for Ysolda here, actually.” His jaw dropped. “Doing what, shouting rude customers across the room?” Ysolda giggled. “Actually, that would keep those Battle-Borns and Gray-Manes in line. Anyway Anoriath, I’ve got a recipe for venison stew that I want to try out. Will you have venison anytime soon?” “Certainly. I’ll be sure to bring some back for you the next time I go hunting.” “Make it quick, and there might be a bowl of hot stew in it for you.” She said with a wink, as he wrapped up a few slabs of beef and pork for her, throwing in a few rabbits as a hint of his admiration.

We brought our shopping back inside and I began to shelve or set out our wares. Ysolda prepared the bar and talked happily about the events of the four years I’d been gone, as well as telling me to keep an eye out for the Khajiit caravan who would soon be bringing in some barrels of fresh seafood, milk, and butter. I tied on my apron and stoked the cooking fire, checking the day’s menu before getting to work. At noon, the lunchtime crowd rolled in, and stared at me as if I’d sprouted an extra head as I took orders and brought out plates of steaming food while Ysolda ran down to Pelagia Farm to buy some grain and flour. I spent the entire afternoon awkwardly explaining the reasons for my visit about 500 times before Amren noticed the exasperation on my face and offered to run up to the Cloud District so that the Jarl and everyone else could know of my arrival. I thanked him profusely, adding an extra dollop of mashed potatoes to his steak. Nonetheless, citizens who had heard of my arrival came in to greet me and hand me gifts of appreciation, as I was busy trying to clear up and prepare for dinner. Ysolda came back with a huge basket of eggs, with Nimriel and Gloth in tow carrying large sacks of millet and wheat flour. She paid them for the goods and their help before they scurried off, casting furtive glances at me. I was in the middle of awkwardly smiling and nodding to Olava the Feeble when Ysolda clapped her hands for attention. “Alright people, show’s over. Yes, the Dragonborn is back and yes she’s now my head chef. She’ll be here for a while so you can all stop your lollygagging and head home unless you’re here for food, drink, or a bed.” About two-thirds of the crowd shuffled out, mumbling embarrassed apologies.

Just when the parade was over, a messenger from Dragonsreach burst into the tavern, looking for me. He explained apologetically that Jarl Balgruuf the Greater had summoned me, so I sighed and tossed my apron aside. Looking sympathetic, Ysolda promised to take over for dinner. I thanked her, then climbed to the Cloud District. Jarl Balgruuf was leaning in his throne, talking to his steward Proventus Avenicci. The guards announced my arrival with great flair, and I cringed, making my way up to the Jarl. He thudded me on the back in greeting, asking me about my unexpected return. I explained to him (for hopefully the last time that week) why I was in Whiterun and his eyebrows raised in amusement when I mentioned I was working as a cook at the Bannered Mare. “A…cook? Well, I suppose you’re too young to join the Greybeards, if you could even grow a beard, that is.” He joked. “If you’re really interested in becoming a chef, come work in my kitchens for a while if you’re really ready to prove your mettle.” I thanked him, saying I would definitely take him up on the offer when I was ready, and was dismissed.

I made my way through the Wind District, passing Jorrvaskr, when I bumped into a slim auburn-haired woman with green warpaint on her face. I recognised her as Aela the Huntress, one of the most esteemed members of the Companions. I apologised, turning to go, but she gripped my arm with surprising strength. “You’re Talviel of Riften, aren’t you?” She asked in a deep, confident voice. “I am. Saviour of Skyrim, Dovahkiin, blah blah blah.” I said, sounding annoyed. She grinned and let me go. “One of those modest types, I see. Nice change after dealing with all the bravado in there.” She nodded towards Jorrvaskr. “Not going to ask you what brings you back to our humble town since you’re probably sick of it, but the Companions have been in awe of you since you trapped that dragon up in Dragonsreach and slayed Alduin. We never let strangers in, but come by sometime. I’m sure the family would love to meet you, maybe test out your battle skills in person.” “Sure, why not.” I shrugged, taken by her straightforward manner. “I’ll let you go then. Have a nice night.” She said, turning around to head inside Jorrvaskr, but not before I caught an eyeful of her toned legs and behind ascending the stairs in her very short excuse for armour. I blushed, and headed back to the Bannered Mare.

Ysolda looked frazzled as she ran between the bar pouring drinks and doling out bowls of hot cabbage soup with bread. She shoved me into the kitchen as soon as I stepped in the door, and I immediately picked up the slack, naturally working the way I did for Keerava. Soon she looked less stressed as she passed tankards of mead and bottles of wine across the counter, gratefully pocketing the coin. The night wore on, Mikael strummed his lute and sang, and I had to kick a few drunk brawlers out (something Ysolda was not good at doing due to her slight build). I threw out the leftovers and washed up, finally extinguishing the kitchen fire just after midnight. Ysolda shooed a couple of stragglers out, and we ceased trading for the night. “Are you sure you can’t stay forever? I sure could use you more often! Well done on an impressive first day’s work. We wake at 8am tomorrow and start again.” I nodded, and climbed the stairs to my room yawning. Loredas rolled around, my first day off work, and I gratefully slept in until 10. Waking up and having some bread and cheese for breakfast washed down with a potion of stamina, I stepped out into the bright Whiterun morning. I got my knives sharpened at Warmaiden’s, bought a few more stamina potions at Arcadia’s Cauldron, then looked around, at a loss for what to do with my day. I contemplated going hunting, but felt too lazy to take my bow and run around outside. Suddenly, I remembered Aela’s offer from the other night, so I ascended the steps to Jorrvaskr and opened a door hesitantly.

I was greeted by a mixture of loud cheering and heckling, and came face to face with a woman and a man throwing well-executed punches at each other while the rest of the Companions cheered. Unsure of what to do, I just stood in front of the door pretending to look indifferent until the woman landed a cracking blow under the man’s ribs and he crumpled to the ground. Coin was exchanged, glasses were raised, and the fighters wiped the blood off their faces, congratulating each other on a job well done. Aela spotted me from across the room and let out a loud whistle, bringing all activity to a standstill. All eyes turned to me and I smiled awkwardly, raising a hand in greeting. “Come here to try out?” A burly man in heavy steel armour called out. “Oh, no, um…Aela asked me to come over the other day. Practice fighting and stuff. I’m Talviel. Of Riften. The Dragonborn.” I stuttered, hating every second of public speaking. “Aah.” They all said knowingly, and dragged me down to the main room, which was dominated by a fire pit and a long table piled with food. I made a mental note to ask who their cook was.

Introductions were made, and I was greeted coolly by Vilkas, the new Harbinger since the death of Kodlak Whitemane: a Nord who was a dead ringer for the man who first spoke to me when I came in. He had dark brown hair and a greatsword strapped to his back, and wore even more kohl around his eyes than I did. “So, Dragonborn, eh?” He said, sizing me up and grunting when he saw my short, single handed Nightingale blade. “Don’t suppose you can teach us how to shout in a day?” I shook my head. “Either you train for years like Ulfric Stormcloak did, or you just happen to be the Dragonborn.” “Damn.” He sighed. “Well, either we have a nice cosy storytelling session, or we head to the practice yard and see if you’re as formidable a fighter as they say you are.” We all decided firmly on the latter and headed out the back door to their training yard.

We devised a system where lesser members would come at me in twos, while the seniors would attack me one by one with their weapons of choice. Ria and Torvar were the first to face me, and I adopted a battle stance, readying the blunt practice sword I’d been given. The two Companions were heavy handed, and I dodged them easily, taking Torvar down with a swipe behind the knee and Ria with a blow to her ribs. Njada Stonearm and Athis, the brawling pair from earlier, came at me with the same fervour, but dodged around me cautiously after seeing what I’d done with their friends. It turned out Njada was called Stonearm for a reason, and my blade was almost knocked out of my hand as hers smashed against it. Using the opportunity, Athis sprang up behind me, but my perception skills, honed by the Thieves Guild, sensed him coming. I quickly shoved Njada so she stumbled back and ran at her, planting my feet against her chest and backflipping over Athis. Shocked by what had just happened, Athis had little time to react as I threw myself at him, pinning him down, and stabbing my sword into the ground half an inch from his head. He tapped out, but not before Njada sprang towards me, blade pointed at my heart. Grunting, I leaned as far back as I could to avoid her reach, then flipped to my feet before rushing at her. As before, she tried the same tactic of disarming me, but this time I ducked before our blades could make contact, causing her to stumble. I shoved a boot into the small of her back, ramming my sword against the thick protective belt she wore. “Who’s next?” I yelled, panting.

“Come at me.” Farkas, the man in heavy armour said, drawing his greatsword. I sighed, as I hate dealing with heavy fighters. Scanning him quickly for weak spots, I noticed his upper arms were uncovered. Perfect. Lumbering towards me, he took a great swing at my head as I stepped easily out of the way. There was no sense in trying to push, kick, or knock him over- the man was like a brick. I simply hopped around him for a while as he continued to swing heavily, then made my move when his guard was down. I swiped, and the blunt sword in my hand bashed against his unprotected left arm. “Ow!” He shouted, and I hopped to the right, doing the same thing. I ran backwards and took a bow as Aela cackled. “Both your arms are off, Shield-Brother.” “That’s gonna leave a bruise.” Farkas grumbled, patting me on the shoulder as he went to the patio. “Good fight.” Just Vilkas and Aela left. Vilkas was much like his brother, only much more limber and with almost impenetrable armour. “I think by now I’ve killed one of every living thing in Skyrim. May be time for a trip to Morrowind.” He said, and charged towards me. I rolled to the side, taken aback by how he used a greatsword as if it were as light as a butter knife. Wearing him out took a lot longer than his brother, and I gave up on that tactic after a few minutes. Finally, as he made a downward swing, I skipped over his sword and caught his eye, feigning expression of combined pleading and beguiling that Sapphire made me master, which caught him off guard. I took the moment to slash forward, stopping just before his throat. ��Bam, you’re dead.” I smiled, and he raised his hands in defeat, looking at me with increased respect.

Finally, Aela stepped forward, drawing her bow. “I notice you have no shield. You’re in trouble.” She winked at me as she walked to the far end of the practice yard. Without warning, she fired at me, and the arrow whizzed past my right ear. I sharpened my senses the way Niruin taught me how in the cisterns, and prepared myself. The arrows came almost unrelentingly at me, as I jumped, ducked, and weaved, making my way towards Aela. As I was almost within arm’s reach, she fired a last arrow at me and I deflected it with my blade without thinking. “How the-” She spat as she drew her knife, crouching. It turned out that she was just as nimble as I was, and a force to be reckoned with. We danced around each other, blades clashing, when she suddenly leapt up and threw me to the ground. We wrestled as her Shield-Brothers and Shield-Sister shouted words of encouragement to her. I wrapped her in a headlock and she struggled to break free. With my free hand, I jabbed her in the ribs with my sword. She rolled facedown on top of of me, groaning in defeat, then unexpectedly bit me on the lip, a knowing look in her eye. I didn’t know how to react, but felt something stir within me that I only ever felt when I touched myself in the dead of night thinking of Brynjolf. She pushed herself off, and pulled me to my feet, as if nothing had happened at all.

“Well, I don’t know how you did it, but you bested all of the Companions without a scratch on you. You sure you’re not going to join us?” Vilkas said, impressed, as we stepped onto the patio, still out of breath. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be leaving Whiterun soon.” I smiled, pouring myself a tankard of water from the dining table that was set out. “That’s a shame, Dragonborn. We would be formidable with you as our Shield-Sister. But enough talk. A good fight makes one hungry, and I’m sure you’ll agree. Come, Tilma is sure to have brought out the apple pie by now. Best in Skyrim.” The rest of the Companions agreed, and we trudged inside, dirty and sweaty from our scuffle. We sat at the long table, eating hungrily and passing each other dishes. Finally, an old woman ascended the steps in a corner, carrying a large, fragrant apple pie that she set down and began to cut into slices. When my slice was placed in front of me, I almost smashed my face into it. As Vilkas had said, it was probably the best in Skyrim. “Hey Tilma? Would you be willing to share this recipe with me, by any chance?” I grinned, burping. “Well, that’s a closely guarded secret, dear, but bring me some cooking of your own and we’ll see if you’re worthy.” She smiled, clearing away the used plates and tankards. “Huh? The Dragonborn cooking?” Ria chuckled. Full and happy, I leaned back in my chair and told my tale, which evoked laughter from everyone. “The best fighter in Skyrim, working at the Bannered Mare as a cook. Tilma’s right, you’ll have to bring us something to prove your worth. Just not dragon stew.” Farkas laughed, coughing into his napkin. “I get Tirdas off. I’ll take you up on that.” I was hellbent on getting that apple pie recipe.

End of part one