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He was lucky. Or maybe you were just unlucky. As of late, that certainly seems to be the case.
“I’ll split it with you,” you offer. Even if there’s nothing to smile about, you make sure your lips are curved up. “Wouldn’t it be nice to have some extra money? I know you don’t get paid enough.”
The pink-haired guard just tilts his head and hums. As if he has any right to debate with you while his once-yellow tunic is shredded to bits at the hem and the thread on one of his leather shoes is frayed, sure to snap any day now.
“More money would be kinda nice…” he mumbles, staring off at the dark mountains in the distance. The fire crackles and orange light flits back and forth across his face. You scoot across the dried grass and dirt to be another inch or two closer to him, though it’s hard to move when your hands are tied behind your back.
“Of course it would be. You guards work so hard, and they just treat you like farm animals, don’t they?” You’re pouting, but he’s still turned away from you, eyes on one of the moons, or maybe both of them.
“Hm, yeah, like if you could give a cow a sword and the power to arrest people.” He turns his head back to you, and there’s a lopsided smile on his lips. “But I’ll pass. It’s not your money to give away, thief.”
You sigh and let your face fall into the glare you’ve been holding back. The guard—Yuuji, as he told you when trying to coax you into revealing your own name—smiles at you a moment longer than he should, a moment where your face goes hot even if a gust of cold wind from the plains has cut through the warmth from the fire. With all your plans for escape having failed, you go silent. The morning, when you’ll be handed over to be sent to the Whiterun jail, is still far off, but as the logs of the fire flake off into ash, your chances of getting out of this mess only keep waning.
Yuuji just watches the plains soaked in the light of the moons and the stars and whistles some unstructured song. His sword, enclosed in its scabbard, lies next to him, as does his helmet, which is in need of a polish or two. His brown eyes seem too young for him to be in chainmail and to have all the responsibility that comes with it, but, as you’d learned from experience, the muscles defined along his bare arms are well up to the task.
“You know,” the guard starts. His voice is quiet, but it only has to compete with the crackling logs. “Maybe I’m the Dragonborn.”
You squint at him. “Huh?”
“Did you hear the thing a few days ago? From the old guys.” His eyes are wide, earnest. He points his finger east, at the tip of the tallest mountain.
“The Greybeards?”
“Yeah, them. Maybe they were talking to me. I’ve always liked dragons.” He leans back on his hands, his legs stretched out in front of him, a little smile on his lips, his eyes meeting yours. Although part of you takes this as your chance to strike while his guard is down, you let the laugh slip out this time and shake your head.
“You’re not the Dragonborn.”
His frown is immediate, deep and obviously exaggerated. “Oh. How do you know?”
Despite the calculated secrecy you’ve handled your newfound identity with, you’re quick to straighten your back and lift your chin. “Because I’m the Dragonborn.”
The pink-haired guard snorts. “Sure you are.”
The heat of the fire has kept your face warm, but now the heat reaches the tips of your ears. “I am!” you whine, voice an octave higher than normal.
“Look, why don’t we just say that we’re both the Dragonborn? That way everyone’s happy.”
“I really am the Dragonborn!” You try to throw your hands up, but you only succeed in pulling against the rope that binds them.
Yuuji shifts so that his legs are crossed and his whole body is facing you. He leans in towards you. “Well, can you prove it?”
You grit your teeth and glare at him. Only for a second or two do you reflect, but you only give yourself permission to do what you were going to do anyway. You suck in a breath full of smoky air and form your lips, your tongue into the one word you know. The power hums in your mouth just as the sound does, and in tandem the two launch into the air and become a wave of pure force, pushing away the smoke, the dirt, the dead grass, and the boy in front of you.
Yuuji rolls onto his back, over onto his feet, and then loses his balance and falls onto his butt. Once everything settles, he only stares at you, mouth agape. His pink hair is a mess, even more than it already was.
“Told you so,” you grin. The way he’s so disheveled and looking at you, half afraid and half in awe, does something bad for your ego. Far, far off in the distance, a wolf howls.
“I’m sorry,” Yuuji gushes. He’s still frozen. “Please don’t kill me.”
Your eyebrows crease for a second, but you’re quick to smooth them back out. “If you let me go, I’ll just forget this ever happened.”
“Okay.” His voice is small. He’s shaky and slow as he stands up. He walks towards you one step at a time, holding his arms out for protection. Your heart beats faster with every inch he comes closer. As he steps behind you, a bead of sweat breaks from your forehead. Footsteps crunch against the dried grass and land just behind your back. You wait, keeping your head held high even if it’s hard to keep your breathing even. He opens his pouch and rummages through for something, and just as your frazzled mind realizes there’s nothing in his pouch that would be able to cut a rope, something dark flashes before your eyes.
It’s a strip of cloth, and the clumsy guard, in his own panic, misses your mouth and succeeds only in blocking off your nose. You pull back and crash into his leather armor, and your cry of pain turns defensive and becomes another shout. The cloth disappears, and you lunge forward to escape the clutches of the guard. Your momentum and your adrenaline allow you to get back onto your legs, and you take off running into the night. You make it out of Rorikstead and into the tall grass of the plains, eyes set on the mountain you should’ve gone to instead of this gods-forsaken village. Over the rustle of your legs through the grass and your haggard breathing, the jangling of armor and heavy thuds of the guard get louder and louder. It’s hard to run with your hands tied behind your back, and you nearly fall forward onto your face every few feet. Your sides burn, and your legs listen less the faster you try to go. A boulder appears just under the top of the grass, and as you skirt around it, your foot slides on loose rock, and you tumble into the grass.
The footsteps of the guard slow as they approach, and you roll onto your back to find his silhouette against the billion stars. Just barely, you can make out the features of his face. He’s panting too. You shout again, but he’s too far back, and only the dirt and grass and pebbles stir. As he gets closer, his lips are turned up, but that does nothing to soothe you. The cloth is still in his hand. There are tears already in your eyes, and you’re not sure how long they’ve been there. Fury and fear excite every nerve in your system, but all you can do is inch away as the guard steps closer.
“You’re not a very good Dragonborn, are you?” he laughs. You spit a curse at him as a tear falls down your cheek and mixes with the sweat and dirt on your skin. Yuuji crouches down next to you, perfectly calm. “Sorry, sorry. And sorry I tried to trick you. Are you hurt?” He shoves the piece of cloth back into his pouch. This close, there’s a shine in his eyes, even in the dark.
“I don’t know,” you mumble. You sniff a few times. Your tears stop flowing, but they’re still wet on your face. Yuuji hums and sits down next to you, crossing his legs. With one of his calloused thumb, he wipes away the tears and the dirt streaked across your cheeks.
“There’s a cut on your chin,” he whispers. “Just a small one.”
He helps you sit up. The cold wind whips the loose pieces of your hair around your head. Your heartbeat jumps when he reaches into his pouch, but he only pulls out a glass vial. He screws off the top and shakes some of its contents onto his finger, but through the darkness, you can’t tell what it is.
“What’s that?”
“Honey,” he smiles. He dabs it onto your chin with a gentle finger, and you let him. “There you go. Now you owe me.”
His face is close to yours. His lips are curved up. You just raise an eyebrow.
“I have a question for you,” he continues. “What is the Dragonborn doing in the middle of nowhere, breaking into houses?”
Your eyes fall to the ground as your face goes hot. It takes a moment for you to come up with an answer. “I don’t know. I don’t even really know what a Dragonborn is. They told me to go to the Greybeards, so I went the other way.”
“That’s an awful reason.” You whip your head up to glare at the boy who’s already laughing at you. “The Dragonborn is supposed to be heroic! I would never pass up the opportunity to be such a force for good in the world.”
Heroic has never been a word you’d associate with yourself. Maybe it’s just this stranger’s voice, but you like the sound of it. Yet, even your ego isn’t bold enough to believe you could ever be anything greater or better than a petty thief. Your shoulders slump. “You should’ve been the Dragonborn then. The gods messed up.”
Yuuji blinks at you. He’s silent for a moment, looking out over the plains again. The mountain tied to your fate is at your back, but you’re sure that’s what his eyes are fixed on. You hold your tongue and wait. Glimmers of blue and green trace lines across the sky.
“I have a proposition for you,” Yuuji finally says. Hesitant, you give him one slow nod. “I’ll let you go if you go to the Greybeards.” The wind whistles through the valley as you think over his words. “And I have one more condition.” His grin is toothy, and your heart skips a beat. “You have to take me with you.”
“Take you with me?!”
“How else am I supposed to know if you actually go or not?!”
You stammer a rebuttal that never takes any grammatical form, and the handsome guard just laughs at you again.
“Plus,” he adds, “Don’t you think you could use some help? I’m good at fighting, as you’ve seen.”
“I don’t need your help,” you pout, even if there’s evidence of the contrary all over you, from the ropes around your wrists to the dirt in your hair to the honey on your chin.
“Okay,” Yuuji sighs. He stands up, and he’s little more than a silhouette against the teal neon draped across the sky. “Then you’re going to jail, I guess.”
You twist around gaze at the eastern horizon. Even from here, you can make out the sharp edge of the monastery beneath the peak of the tallest mountain. Maybe you weren’t chosen for this, but maybe you were, and maybe the future doesn’t have the shine of stolen gold, but the shimmer of water just before it settles on the reflection of whatever stands over it. You turn back around, and despite yourself, your lips curve up. “Fine. I’ll go. You can come with me.”
Yuuji crouches back down and pulls his knife out of its sheath. “Thank you,” he smiles. You just nod and flick your eyes away, heat springing back to your cheeks. You turn so that he can cut the ropes binding your wrists. A few tugs later, the rope breaks and your arms are freed. You sigh and stretch your sore muscles. Yuuji stands up and offers you a hand, to which you accept. He pulls you up, but neither of you let go just yet. You’re close to him, so close that you have to look up in order to meet his dark eyes.
There are streaks of dirt across his face as well. Even a few blades of dry grass cling to his pink hair. He’s grinning, and his hand is warm in your hand. “Are you gonna tell me your name now?” he asks.
You roll your eyes, but you tell him. A heart beat passes, and through the night air, across the rolling hills, a dragon’s roar echoes.