Chapter 33: Way of the Voice: Part 2
"Promise?" I raised an eyebrow.
She nodded once, firm. "You beat me. Fair and square. You may have talked like a drunken fool last night, but I meant what I said. You won, and a warrior honors her word. If you're leaving Whiterun, I want to come with you."
I stood there, trying to recall what she was talking about. What happened last night?
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember anything that happened in the aftertaste of that vile drink.
I coughed and nodded. "If that's what you want—"
She cut me off, raising a finger. "Before you say no. I'll tell you right now, I won't take it." She blinked, realizing her word had jumped ahead of mine. "Wait, you said, yes, didn't you?" Her voice dipped awkwardly, "Right. Okay. Well… good."
She cleared her throat and looked away, suddenly fidgety. "I just need to grab my gear from my house. Can we make a short detour?"
I nodded silently.
Lydia gave me a look, half-questioning, half resigned—before sighing and following along.
***
Uthgerd led us through the quieter parts of Whiterun, down the slope past the Temple of Kynareth, and toward the Hall of the Dead. The streets were still quiet. The morning light hadn't warmed the stone yet, and only a few townsfolk moved about. After a short walk, we stopped before a modest wooden home, tucked neatly between others.
She unlocked the door and stepped inside. We followed.
The house was humble. Dust settled thick on the table, and the hearth was cold. A small table stood near the center, with a single chair pulled close to the fireplace. The chimney was dark, unused. A narrow wooden stair led up to a cramped loft with a single bed, no more than a cot.
I paused, taking it in. "You're not home often, are you?" I asked, eyeing the layer of dust.
Uthgerd, halfway through tightly rolling a bedroll, hesitated. Her back was turned to me, but I could hear the tinge of embarrassment in her voice. "I just returned yesterday. Went straight to the tavern." She paused again, muttering. "And spent the night knocked out."
I chuckled softly, as her lips pressed together, her eyes clenched in shyness, What's happening to me she wondered, but said nothing.
I gesture to Lydia. "Help her with the rest."
Lydia gave me a short nod and moved to assist. I stepped outside to give them space and to get some fresh air.
***
The air was a little warmer now. Sunlight spilled between the buildings in the long golden shafts. I stood there, arms crossed, quietly watching the street.
Then a door creaked open across from me.
Carlotta.
She stepped outside carrying an empty crate. Her long hair, still slightly damp, tumbled over her shoulder. She bent to set the crate down and lock the door behind her, hips turned to me, trapping my eyes in a charm.
Why am I such a horndog? I looked away quickly, exhaling through my nose.
Carlotta straightened, turning the crate and picking it up in her hands. Her eyes landed on me, and she paused.
"Darius?" She asked, not a question, more like a confirmation.
I gave her a small nod. "Yep. That's me."
She hesitated, then stepped forward, crossing the street between us. Her grip on the crate tightened slightly, her eyes flicking between me and the house behind.
We stood there in silence for a moment longer than needed.
"I just… wanted to thank you. For what you did last night."
I blinked. "It's nothing," I said quickly. What did I do exactly? I asked no one.
Her expression softened. She stepped closer, close enough that only the crate separated us.
"No. It's not nothing," she said, her voice quiet but sincere. "You don't know how it's been. Going to the tavern, trying to avoid that bard." She glanced down, eyes distant for a moment.
Was it a fight? Just like Uthgerd?
"Mila's persistent, always dragging me there. Sometimes I wonder if I spoil her too much, but she deserves it; she deserves more. And I… I've been exhausted."
She hadn't realized she was rambling. "You won't believe it, but half the men in Whiterun have proposed to me—" she paused, "Okay, that might be a stretch, but there are too many." She chuckled, shaking her head, the smile on her face putting me under a spell.
"Some were even single. But none of them were as persistent—or annoying as Mikael. That bard just won't leave me alone." She scowled for a moment, muttering, "Sometimes I wonder if I should've just stuck a knife in him," she said, then blinked, realizing how it sounded. "I-I wouldn't, of course. Just… you know."
I nodded slightly, but didn't interrupt. Her voice was soothing like a warm wind bursting past. Gentle, even when she was cursing.
But just as the moment settled, a loud thud echoed from inside Uthgerd's house.
We both flinched. The charm broke.
"Ah, sorry, I've been talking too long," Carlotta said quickly, stepping back slightly. She looked at the house again, blinking. "But what are you doing here?"
She glanced again at the door, her brow knitting. Recognition flickered in her eyes.
That's Uthgerd's house, she realized. She might not know her well, but Carlotta remembered the day that woman bought the place, and the day she—
And then her thoughts jumped, leaning back to the tavern the night before.
The shouting. The fight. Uthgerd's words… and Darius'.
Uthgerd's voice rang in her memory, fierce and prideful.
Uthgerd: What did you get from beating him?
And then, his voice, slurred, yet somehow, tantalizing.
Darius: Her.
He'd said it while pointing at her.
Her lips parted now, a breath hitching in her throat. The memory struck sharper than she expected. Her fingers tensed around the crate, and the warmth flushed into her cheeks, and then.
Uthgerd: Fine. You can have me if you win.
Carlotta blinked hard, as if that would erase the words from echoing in her ears. Her face burned deeper. Embarrassment twisted with something sharper, an emotion she hadn't felt for a long while.
Jealousy.
'What is this?' she wondered, feeling her pulse quicken. Confusion danced across her features. 'Did they do it?'
"I was just leaving," I said, trying to smooth over the confusion in the air. "Uthgerd wanted to keep her promise last night, so… she'll be traveling with us. As a mercenary."
Carlotta stared at me, searching for something. Her lips parted slightly, then closed again. "Oh," she muttered. And then, almost soft to hear, a sigh escaped her. Relief?
But she didn't understand why, nor did I, and that only made the situation more confusing.
Just then, the door opened behind me. Uthgerd stepped out, Lydia at her side. Both women scanned the quiet street, their eyes landing squarely on Carlotta.
Carlotta met Uthgerd's gaze, and for a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
I cleared my throat, cutting through the tension. "So," I asked Carlotta, "Where were you headed?"
Her attention snapped back to me, "Oh, I… I was just going to the farm. I needed some fresh vegetables. And fruits." She smiled.
I stepped forward, reaching for the crate, and she pressed against herself. My fingers brushed the wood, and it vanished.
Her eyes widened.
"What…?" she started, staring at her empty hands.
I smirked. "I'll accompany you there."
Her brows lifted slightly, her mouth opened to refuse, but she hesitated.
She let out a small breath and nodded, "Alright, I wouldn't mind your company." She chuckled, "I guess it's safer to go shopping with a Thane, or should I say Hero of Whiterun?"
I smirked. "You can just call me by my name."
We walked side by side, our pace unhurried as Lydia and Uthgerd trailed behind. The air was crisp with the scent of freshly baked bread roaming the empty streets, and people were still in their houses, but awake. When we reached the outer gate, the guards spotted me instantly. They already know me?
"Thane," he said respectfully, before signaling the gate to open.
The massive wooden doors groaned as they parted, letting in the morning breeze that had travelled the great snow mountains and the expansive, lush tundra.
***
Outside
The path curved gently toward the Pelagia Farm. Wheatfields shimmered gold in the wind, and the faint silhouettes of goats and cows drifted in the distance.
"So," I said, glancing at Carlotta, "how did you figure out I'm Thane?"
"Oh, that, I just overheard Hulda talking to one of the guards," She continued, "He was talking about how you took out that beast alone, by the time I got out, the tavern had gathered around the man asking him what else he knew about you," She chuckled, "It was quite a hysterical sight."
Behind us, Uthgerd tilted her head, eyes narrowing curiously at our exchange. She turned to Lydia, her gaze questioning.
"He's the one who killed the dragon at the watchtower," Lydia said without looking at her.
Uthgerd stopped walking for a moment, her brows furrowed, processing what Lydia had just said. Her fingers curled into fists as she calmed herself before she resumed walking, a few paces behind.
By the time she caught up, there was something different in her eye, another shift. Not just respect, something more, something she couldn't name.
We arrived at the Pelagia Farm just as the sun crested fully over the horizon, warming the fields. I opened my inventory and, with a thought, summoned the crate. It shimmered into place in my arms.
Carlotta blinked, not at the magic but something else, "This is it, huh?" she murmured, walking closer.
"I believe so," I said, and as she reached for the crate, our hands brushed, just a touch, skin to skin, soft, and fleeting.
She didn't move for a second. Her fingers lingered slightly longer than needed. Our eyes met. Neither of us spoke.
Behind us, we hadn't noticed that Lydia and Uthgerd had stopped a few steps back, watching the exchange in silence. Lydia's arms crossed, unreadable. Isn't he a little too close to her? She wondered. Uthgerd had a quiet observance, something hovering between curiosity and… uncertainty.
Then—
"Ahem"
A short, deliberate cough broke the moment. We both turned as an unfamiliar elder voice, at least to me, chimed in.
It was Nimriel, the elderly Bosmer, who worked at the farm. Her silver-streaked hair was tied back in a tight bun, and her arms were covered in dirt up to her elbows.
"Well?" she asked, arching an eyebrow at Carlotta. "What'll it be today, girl?"
Carlotta cleared her throat quickly and took a half step back from me, composing herself. "Just the usual," she said, gesturing with a brief nod in my direction. "I can carry them back."
Nimriel's eyes flickered between us with a sharp intuition, a smirk tugged at her lips, but she said nothing, leaving the teasing for later.
As Carlotta followed Nimriel to the shop, I stepped back toward the path. Lydia and Uthgerd flanked me again, though neither said anything.
.
.
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****
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