Love and Bounty

Chapter Twenty-Six: Broken Silence

Could the frigid, howling wind on the river chill Deeja even deeper than the bone? She wouldn't be surprised if it could, but even the wind's midnight song and the glow of the twin moons were second to the chagrined storm in her mind.

Deeja and Hrolf were rowing one boat back to the Grotto while Sharai and Iscraah took the other. Her scaly shoulders and back ached with each repetitive movement, burning hot and low like the dim lantern between her and Hrolf. She considered telling him everything, but what would be the point? If their last days were soon to pass, then he deserved someone better. He deserved someone who wouldn't put him through everything she had.

Damn him. Damn him and his beautiful face in the warm lantern light. It made her eyes heavy with tears she couldn't afford to cry.

She and Jaree-Ra made it so far during their time in Solitude. They got away with so many jobs: from running dinky vessels into the ground, "borrowing" family heirlooms stashed in the old catacombs of irrelevant Nord families... It was a good gig. They could've made it. But now they had to leave. If they stayed, who knew what Vicaimo would do? Who knew if a plane of Oblivion merging with the mortal realm was even survivable?

Hrolf winced as the thought crossed her mind, and for a moment, Deeja wondered if he'd heard it somehow. She flushed with shame and nearly stopped rowing altogether.

How could you be so selfish? He's done so much for you and you'd just leave him here.

...

Hargar was—

"Deeja," Hrolf puffed, "let's take a break."

The Argonian nearly recoiled at the sudden sound of his voice. "Sure."

Hrolf nearly threw down the oars in the rowboat and groaned, his arms going limp at his sides. "I don't remember the healing I got in the old days leaving me this sore..."

As she stowed her own oars away, Deeja forced herself to be snarky with him. He couldn't know what she was thinking. "Maybe you're just getting old."

The Nord sniggered and shook his head, eyes closed and body all but drained. "You're lucky Ma and Pa taught me to be polite," he tittered. "I doubt I'm much older than you."

The Argonian cocked a challenging eyebrow.

"Again, my parents taught me to be polite."

He was so goofy. She couldn't help but crack the tiniest smile. "Good on them."

They sat in silence for a while as Sharai and Iscraah gained some distance ahead of them, nearly disappearing in the pale refractions on inky water. Before long, it was just him, her, and the quiet. Well, bone-chilling cold notwithstanding. One stiff wind that passed by left her teeth chattering. If she didn't tighten her jaw so much that her teeth might break, Hrolf definitely would have heard it. The last thing she needed was his close attention. That would just tear her open.

"Are you doing alright?" he murmured, pale blue eyes focused on her.

Shit. She couldn't just say nothing—he'd see right through it—so she let herself shiver like a tiny stray pup in the street. "I think my scales are freezing over. How do you Nords stand this ridiculous climate?"

Hrolf smiled softly. "It's home," he said. "But here, I can help."

He doffed his furs, carefully unwrapping them from his armor before draping them over her shoulders. The relief was immediate, and so compelling that she grabbed the edges of the furs and held on as if for dear life. Gods, they were so warm, too. They felt just like him.