Love and Bounty

Chapter Fifteen: What Lies Beneath

A hawk cried out into the cloudy afternoon sky. After their walk along the beach nine days prior, hawks reminded Deeja of Hrolf. He always seemed to have an eye out for them. She had always thought they were pretty, but he clearly saw more than that when he watched them circle in the air.

She caught herself and resisted the urge to slap herself with her own tail. Pull yourself together, Deeja!

They still needed to have a proper talk between just the two of them. Her curiosity hopelessly bounded around in her chest like a frantic hare at the prospect of hearing more of his father's lessons. And then there was Galum-Jei's warning... When it came to that, her heart might as well have been torn right out of her chest. Her own egg-brother must've thought of Deeja as beyond saving—just as much of a lost cause as any other Blackblood, but especially Hargar.

The thought of having anything in common with Hargar nearly made her retch on the spot.

She and Sharai led a handful of Blackbloods up the rocky slopes of Haafingar, seeking the sewer drainage pipes carved out from the city's stone-hewn foundations. A Blackblood that was familiar with the area, whose name Deeja couldn't recall, led the group while Deeja and Sharai followed just behind, stepping over craggy fissures and crunching on the patches of cold and dried grass underfoot. The city walls were near. They surely didn't have much longer.

"Hey Deeja," Sharai said. "Do you have a moment to talk?"

She glanced at the Redguard and blinked at the sudden request. "Uh..." she mumbled, having expected their journey to be a silent one. "Sure."

Sharai smiled. "Good, good. Let's let the others get ahead of us. I'm sure you'll want this to be private."

Those words immediately began tripping alarms in Deeja's head, but the only way to stop them would be to figure out what in Oblivion she was talking about. She seemed as agreeable as usual, so Deeja doubted it was anything related to dissatisfaction with her leadership—or a dagger to her back.

As the two began to slow down, Sharai urged the Blackbloods to go ahead of them, which elicited strange looks from some of the hardened outlaws. Their glances alone were already making her skin crawl, and the misunderstandings that must have been running rampant in their heads only made her shoulders begin to flush with heat. At least Sharai was trying to keep things private, though.

Once they were alone enough to satisfy Sharai, she spoke in a low and hushed voice:

"So, are you interested in Hrolf?"

...
Sithis, please kill me. Right now.

Despite her silent pleas, Deeja continued to live with those words echoing in her ears and her entire face engulfed in a flaming blush. How could she have known?—Deeja did her absolute best to keep any inklings of interest she had under wraps! Most of it was just curiosity, of course, but she couldn't deny the occasional episode of physical attraction. Those muscular, veiny forearms of his just weren't playing fair!

"Well?" Sharai cocked her brow in a knowing manner. "Are you?"

Deeja narrowed her eyes into slits and prayed to whatever gods would listen for the cheeky Redguard to just drop the subject. However, Deeja's flushed face was a dead giveaway, and Sharai understood that well.

"I'm not hearing a no—"

"Then it's a no," Deeja hissed. "I've had about enough of this."

"Okay, okay," Sharai conceded, holding up her hands in surrender. "Sorry. I didn't mean to tease you too much. I actually meant to offer help."

The blushing Argonian's tail flicked to and fro, looking for something other than a heavily-armored Redguard to give a good wack with the leathery appendage.