Dragonborn Ascendant (9)

A/N: This one took out a bit longer than I thought, but I think I'm satisfied with how it turned out. As always, many thanks to everyone supporting me and if you want to be mentioned on the chapter I'll be releasing Sunday, leave a comment or send me a message.

Also, I'm not putting a NSFW tag, but there's just a few lines of nudity on the chapter.

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“Divines have mercy!” She heard the voice of the blacksmith - Alvor, Aela remembered - and it finally registered to her that… That she was alive, and she was back to civilization, protected behind the walls of a small town where no danger could come to her.

When that realisation finally sunk in her mind, it felt to her as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders that almost made the redhead sag with relief, a shuddering breath quietly escaping her lips as she went to lean on a wall to support her with her wobbling, wavering knees. She was tired. So, so tired. Going through Bleak Falls Barrow taught her to have a newfound hatred for the undead, and also to fear and respect them in equal measures.

She felt a pang of phantom pain on her stomach, and for a moment she found her hand clutching where an arrow had pierced her. The wound still hurt, but it wasn’t as overpowering as it had been when Magnus had taken the arrow out of her, now only an uncomfortable reminder that, yes while light armour was indeed best for her style as a fast and nimble hunter, it still did little to protect her from actual attacks.

She bit her lip at the memory.

She had been lucky.

“You look like you fought an entire orc fortress!” The blonde Nord she had met a few days prior at Riverwood exclaimed, helping her brunette shield brother out of his armour with the proper tools. “And, gods, what happened with your armour, Magnus?”

“I took a hit from a draugr,” the brunette shrugged, facing contorting into a grimace not a second later as she knew that his shoulder wasn’t anywhere near as good as it looked like.

What was truly impressive was his nonchalance at retelling the fact.

She had heard his shoulder snapping, the sickening crunches of bone being smashed by the brutal weapon that the draugr - the Guardian she reminded herself - wielded, a dangerous, menacing looking ebony battleaxe; a two handed monstrosity almost as tall as her with a broad head made of a black metal with clear nordic carvings engraved on the flat surface and all around its shaft.

A weapon that was laid on Alvor’s workbench.

“Heh,” the Breton chuckled for a moment. “You should have seen what I did to it.” He said, shaking his head as a savage grin came to his face, and Aela had to suppress a shiver.

Magnus, he was weird. Definitely not normal.

She had a gut instinct about him when they first met, although the encounter with the giant at Pellagia’s farm could hardly be called a proper meeting. Still, she did get a feeling about him when he utterly ignored her words and threw himself at the danger. Reckless was the first thing, and then mage, terrible warrior and careless were the next. She decided that she didn’t like him then and there, and after making her discontent very well known, she left and prayed they would never see each other again.

Of course, that idiot Farkas had to invite him to join the Companions, something that the man actually went through with and ultimately proved to her that he wasn’t just another arrogant, stuck up mage, forcing her to swallow her opinions on him. And especially after this, she couldn’t call him milk drinker anymore - even if he did drink milk -, or boy, or any other nickname she used to refer to him in her head. He was definitely a man. Few would have the courage to take this task, and fewer still would have the skills to actually be able to do it, which only made it much more glaring how insane Magnus’ growth was.

She remembered not two months ago how Vilkas could utterly dominate him during their sparring sessions. She watched them on occasion, something that had become akin to a sport amongst the Companions at Jorrvaskr, just watching his progress. It was simply absurd. At first the Breton lived to her assessment of a mage that wielded his sword with terrible form, not any better than a child with a stick pretending to be a warrior.

But then he improved. His footwork was better, faster and more nimble; he didn’t waste as many movements anymore, he could actually do feints, he blocked and parried and stepped away from attacks. And then he started attacking more often, more strongly and more forcefully, he locked blades with Vilkas, they traded blows, they parried each other and shifted, dancing a deadly dance of live steel and skill.

It was baffling seeing it happening in front of her, and how her mind could recollect fresh memories that told her just how absurd it was. And he looked more like a man now too, with broader shoulders and thicker arms. It also didn’t hurt that the two months made his beard grow all around his mouth since it didn’t look like it grew much on the sides, making him look more mature and - and she would only admit to this in the privacy of her mind - quite more handsome too.

Worse, he was still a mage, and a damn good one at that.

The gods really did favour him.

“You are insane,” the Nord man sighed, then he paused for a moment, after having taken Magnus off his armour, to take a look at the two of them. And Aela was sure that they made a sorry looking duo, which was why the blacksmith clicked his tongue, sighing. “You can rest at my home if you want to. I’m sure Sigrid would be delighted to see you again. Dorthe and the other children certainly haven’t stopped talking about your horse.”

“Kids love animals,” Magnus smiled, opening his mouth to address the offer.

She cut him.

“That’s very kind of you, Alvor,” she interjected, stepping forward for a moment to get the attention of both men. She threw a look to Magnus who turned to regard her with a raised eyebrow. “But it wouldn’t be right to impose on your hospitality, no more than we already did by asking you to take care of our horse.”

“You wouldn’t be imposing on any one’s hospitality, Huntress, and the horse has been a delight to have around. I could do without all the shit, but…” the blacksmith started, though the way his eyes moved between her and the Breton, and the light that shone behind his green eyes gave her the impression that the blonde came to a realisation. “But I know when a woman decides something to not defy her.” He said, rubbing his chin and the redhead smirked.

He certainly had the wrong impression about them, but she wouldn’t correct him about such misconceptions when they were convenient for her.

Two eyes fell on the only brunette that sighed, getting back up to his feet.

“I suppose we can stay at the Sleeping Giant,” Magnus sighed. He turned, offering Alvor his hand to clasp and respectful nod. “I’ll be talking with you tomorrow, Alvor, see if there’s anything to be done about the armour.” He said and the blonde nodded.

“Aye, you do that and rest. You sure look like you need it,” said the blonde. “And I’ll see how bad the damage is later, but I wouldn’t have my hopes high if I were you, Magnus. You took a nasty hit there, and it doesn’t take a master smith to see just how mangled the steel plate has become.”

“Well, fuck,” the Breton cursed quietly, shoulders slumping. Aela could sympathise, a new chestplate piece alone would cost twenty, maybe even twenty five gold septims, and that was no small investment. On the other hand, the ebony battleaxe was worth at least its weight in gold, so… a few hundred coins, at minimum. Thousands if he decided to sell it to a noble. But then, the huntress knew the mage would not ever part with the weapon.

Magnus sighed, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll deal with this later in any case. Good day, Alvor. Let’s go, Aela.”

“Aye, have a good rest you two.”

Together they went to the Sleeping Giant’s Inn, just a few metres away from Alvor’s home and forge. The place was livelier than she expected, and certainly with more than a few faces she recognized as the guardsmen of Whiterun.

She did remember Jarl Balgruuf sending a detachment of his forces a few fortnights past, and then another one only a few days before they left for Riverwood. Clearly a group went this way, and she certainly wasn’t seeing any reinforcements that should have certainly arrived before they did, so they must have gone somewhere else.

Those thoughts quickly evaporated from her mind however, because when the warmth and the smell of food that so much reminded her of Jorrvaskr hit her nostrils, the huntress couldn’t help but feel the wave of exhaustion that settled in her bones. So she threw a meaningful look at Magnus who returned with an equally tired smile before they both nodded and walked to the counter to talk with the innkeeper manning the bar.

“How can I help you?” The brunette raised an eyebrow, looking warily at them for a moment.

“A room and a meal would be a good start,” Magnus grunted, and the massive ancient battleaxe glinted, reflecting the lights of the fireplace.

The man watched them for a second, throwing a glance somewhere to the side through the corner of his eye - a woman -, before nodding hesitantly.

“It will be a silver per night,” he said, leaning down to pick a key from the counter before handing it to Magnus, who placed a coin on the counter. She picked it instead, and the man pointed out at the room for them. “Breakfast and supper are included, though if you want to have lunch here then you will have to pay for your meals.”

There were two grunts of acknowledgement before the two turned and left to their room. Which had only a single bed.

They both sighed, exhaustion and tiredness settling in all at once.

“You go lay down first,” she said without missing a beat, working quickly to undress herself from her filthy and damaged gambeson. It was poor luck that she only had that piece with her, and she certainly wasn’t going to sleep in dried up blood, sweat and caked up dirt and grime.

And although Aela wouldn’t admit this aloud, the hungry look on Magnus’ eyes as he eyed her naked tits made her shiver delightfully. What made it better was the fact that he managed to reign his lust if only for a moment, only to strip himself - albeit with some difficulty - before turning to face her with a raised eyebrow.

Her eyes immediately dipped low.

“Are you sure?”

Well, he is a man, after all, her eyes twinkled. “You are the one with the left side fucked,” she shrugged, licking her lips and grinning at the way he followed her jiggles.

Not that she was any better.

The Breton nodded, grunting as he entered under the furs, a ragged breath escaping his lips as he settled in place before he finally sighed. “I missed a bed.”

“I’m sure you did,” Aela mumbled, slipping to his side. She shivered with the cold and the feeling of her skin against the warmth of Magnus, and a pant escaped her lips as she felt her nipples hardening ever so slightly, scraping against his arm as her head came to settle on his chest. “You weren’t the only one.”

“It feels to me like I am being used as a bed right now.” He muttered, though she couldn’t hear a note of complaint from his voice.

“Don’t make it seem like you aren’t enjoying it,” she pointed out, moving a leg up until her thigh rested against his throbbing rod. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“You’re evil, Aela,” Magnus muttered, not meeting her eyes.

“Maybe,” she laughed, falling into a moment of silence.

This felt comfortable, she thought, almost nice even. Magnus wasn’t bad, Aela could say if she swallowed her past opinions of him, and she… hadn’t ever really treated the man without contempt or some form of hostility. It wasn’t fair, she realised, but at least he didn’t seem to hate her, which was a pleasant surprise and one she was very grateful for.

Maybe… maybe she could accept him. And perhaps one day she would be able to repay Magnus for all the hard time she gave him.

A sigh escaped her lips.

“I never said thank you,” she muttered, voice low. “For your potion. I know how expensive they can be, and you wasted one of them on me anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” Magnus grumbled with a rumble on his chest. “I would have done this for anyone.”

“You are a fool then.” Aela sighed, hearing the heart beating in his chest. It was loud and strong, a rhythmic pulse that lulled her into sleep together with the rising and lowering of his chest. “A bigger one than I thought.”

“Maybe,” he grunted carelessly. “Not that you care anyway.” He said and she snorted, a smile tugging ever so slightly on her lips.

“Thank you.”

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A/N: Tell me what do you guys think of this scene. I think it turned pretty well to tell the shift of Aela's opinion on Magnus, something that will be shown more on the following chapters. I still think that it could be better, so I'd like you guys opinions and your thoughts on this interlude.