The Knight (A Skyrim Inspired Series)

Four

Three days had come and gone, and then, two weeks and no word from Balgruuf. He'd been called to Rorikstead which distracted him away from the talk he intended to have with me. Still, within that time, the roof of our home had been barred in by planks of wood, and the foyer had been cleared of the molten debris from the attack.

Serana combed her hands through my hair, watching me through the wash room's vanity as I sat stiff in the basin.

"You're sick." she observed, crossing her legs more comfortably as she leaned further against the edge of the tub.

I could see that, staring grudgingly at the paleness of my body. It estranged my hair, wet at the moment, and the color more orange on me now than its original copper. Yet, it never failed to conflict with my eyes, one green, the other, amber. Beneath them, gray skin was forming from my lack of rest and constantly drunken state, and I gritted my teeth in agitation.

"I'm not." I objected.

She didn't reply, just proceeded to comb my hair, looking for a proper place to start her braid.

She herself had already braided her own into one large dutch braid down the center of her head. Black hair aided her elegant stature. In fact, her youthfulness was near perfection, and always strained the totality of our relationship. I was aging, and soon to see my thirtieth year on Nirn. Still, she remained shapely and young, a product of her vampirism though she'd adapted well to civility thus far. Our marital status had yet to turn heads from the obviously growing gap being created every year, but those days would approach us soon enough. I often wondered if she'd shun the day I became too old to please her, but she seemed content being my wife.

"Mother, Braith and I are soon to be off." Lucia entered.

"Forty Sawn." Serana recalled, "And remind Lady Danica that your father will be visiting the temple today before you go." she continued while parting my hair above my temples.

My grin fell, "I'm not sick."

Lucia gave a half-nod, and looked at me with a smile, "Father."

"Aye." I called back to her.

"Can I please ask you something?"

This raised one of my brows, and Serana paused her braiding long enough for me to glance over my shoulder.

Lucia looked nervous, her eyes immediately searching the floor while biting her lip through an incoming giggle.

"It's that boy again." I sighed in conclusion.

She pouted immediately, "Please father, he's asked me over for supper with his family."

Serana aided her plea while continuing my braid, "Frodnar has grown out of his mischief Love. He's become a decent lad. Hod and Gerdur will be glad to have her."

"If a shadow so much as touches this house before you've returned, I will come for his hide and yours." I replied grizzly.

Lucia bounced eccentrically, and ran from my sight while Serana shook her head.

"Relax, Knight. Dating the daughter of the Dragonborn, I'm sure he will think twice before doing anything to her."

"I watched him glue a cow's udders shut." I remarked.

"And stockpile rotting cheese in the corner of every mead barrel, but he was just a boy then. He did boy things."
"And now he's a man, he will want to do man things."

"She's a young woman."

"She's seventeen."

"A young. Woman." she sneered, finishing off my first braid.