Owe You My Sins [GxG]

Chapter 6

Maeven had successfully spent the day avoiding Illythia as much as possible, but her father had pulled her aside that morning to inform her of rather distressing news. The three of them were to dine together each evening to build rapore and companionship. She didn't dare speak out against the idea, already knowing that he wasn't impressed with her efforts thus far. So instead, she resorted to taking as long as she possibly could to return to the keep, having braved the weather to hide out in Alden's smithery. To make matters worse, the gathering wouldn't take place in the main hall but instead in the smaller, personal dining room which was usually reserved for meals shared between her and her father. And before that, her mother as well. Something about inviting the immortal into another personal place in her life sat badly with her.

Maeven was chilled from her brisk walk to the keep but didn't regret her decision for a moment because the longer she dragged her feet, the less time she'd have to spend with the vampire. In fact, she had almost decided to feign ill entirely, and had begun to complain of a headache earlier that morning. Unfortunately, she accidentally let slip to Marjorie that she was planning to visit the forges today; joyful, Marjorie had accidentally tattled on her. Which left her last plan of simply steering clear of the keep altogether.

But alas, all her efforts were in vain. For despite it all, there she was, stood in front of the dreaded door. From her position, she could just barely make out the warm chatter from within. Steeling herself and sending a silent plea for the evening to go smoothly, she pushed open the door and made her entry.

The very embodiment of her turmoil welcomed her with a wide smile and a polite greeting, and something in her gut told her the only way the night would end was in disaster.

"Maeven! Honestly, where have you been? If you'd taken any longer, we would have had to start without you," Ulfric huffed, but gestured for her to take a seat nonetheless.

"My apologies, I was helping Hatheway in the forges. Must have lost track of time," as Maeven took her seat, her eyes flickered up to meet the immortal's, who'd been watching her since the moment she'd made her appearance.

Immediately wrenching her eyes back to the table in front of her, she reached out and poured her goblet to its fullest, somehow knowing even without looking, that the vampire's mouth had twisted into a teasing smirk.

Just as she'd began taking her first sip, Illythia commented curiously, "I didn't take you as someone who was interested in smithing. You just don't seem the type."

Her teeth bit down on the metal of her cup, unsure if it was the insinuation that she wasn't someone to get her hands dirty, or her need to conceal the fact that truly her skills weren't much to brag about, that brought about her anger. Still, she carefully schooled her features and placed the goblet back onto the table, regarding the immortal with a steely glare.

"Just because I'm the heiress doesn't mean I'm dainty or soft-handed. In fact, I dare say your hands would be softer than mine!" She scowled over at the infuriatingly unbothered expression her words were met with, daring her to object.

To prove her point, she extended her hands across the table with her palms facing upwards, revealing the calloused skin and scattered scars. Illythia rendered her argument moot, however, when the immortal simply reached out to connect their hands. She was sure she ceased breathing in that moment, eyes widened almost comically as Illythia gently ran her hands over her skin. Somewhere in Maeven's mind declared victoriously that she was right, and her own skin was far rougher than the vampire's. The insult was somehow lost though, as this killer's skin was soft and smooth, and Maeven wondered if Illythia thought her's to be unpleasant in comparison.

The few moments it took her to find her senses felt like an eternity, but at last Maeven wrenched her hands away like she'd been burned.

"Perhaps you're right, though I believe we've both had our fair share of work. Just likely of different natures," the vampire let out a contented smile, raising her own goblet to her mouth.