Chapter Text
Lydia leaned idly against the cave wall, watching her Thane dust herself off. A grimace was set into her sharp features and lying on the ground before her was a charred corpse of a bandit. She lit a small fire between her palms, burning off the blood and bits of flesh that clung to her hands.
“It’s really quite unpleasant,” she said. “The smell, I mean. You think there would be some sort of spell to mask that.” She brushed her hair back and stepped over the corpse. “Oh, but if I were a cannibal I imagine it would be an appetizing smell, wouldn’t it?”
“Do you often find yourself interested in cannibalism, my Thane?” Lydia asked with a smile.
“Certainly not. You know, my father once dealt with a group of cannibals. One of them —Eldryn was his name, I believe— told him there isn’t much edible flesh on a human body. It’s very tough, hard to chew. And it fights back, of course, not many people are keen on being eaten.” She sighed dramatically. “No, it sounds like all together too much work for me.” She cracked a smile and Lydia shoved her playfully.
“We should keep moving if we plan to get home before dark.” The Dragonborn nodded and the two of them carried on through the cave. The few bandits still milling about didn’t stand a chance against Lydia’s warhammer and the Dragonborn’s fire. It almost made Lydia feel sorry for them, but they’d been sent there to deal with bandits by Jarl Balgruuf. They couldn’t turn around halfway through the job.
The Dragonborn was wrestling a dagger from one of the bandits as Lydia finished the last of them off. She was wiping down the blood-slick end of the warhammer when she glanced over at the two of them. The Dragonborn had him pinned to the floor, one of her hands was wrapped around his wrist as she held it above his head and the other wrapped around his throat. In the hand she held above them, the bandit was tightly gripping a dark iron dagger with a jeweled handle.
Lydia raised an eyebrow and said, “You seem to be taking your time with this.”
The woman exhaled and said, “He won’t let go of the dagger. The handle is very intricate, I’d rather not destroy it—” In a moment the hand around the man’s throat was ablaze and the Dragonborn was thrown away from him. The bandit squirmed on the ground, a small fire crackling on the surface of his skin. Standing above him was a small, malnourished looking person. Their face was obscured under a steel helmet and they wore miss-matched armor a few sizes too large for their frame. In their hands was a broom, splintered around their hands.
Lydia could see the bandit had shoved the blunt end of the broom into the Dragonborn’s side. Once again, Lydia felt sorry for them. It had been a last ditch effort to survive, and perhaps they would have managed had they chosen a sword rather than a broom. The Dragonborn was already back on her feet, though. She planted one foot firmly into the man’s burned throat, and his squirming came to an end with a crack. The smaller bandit stumbled backward, and the Dragonborn pulled the broom away from them. She shoved back into the person’s stomach, the fur armor over their torso doing little against the blow.
They fell backwards, the steel helmet bouncing off the rocky floor and rolling away. Two flames burned in the Dragonborn’s palms as she held an open hand out to the bandit on the floor. And then Lydia’s eyes went wide and she threw herself at the girl.
The flames dissipated in an instant and she pushed Lydia away from her. “What in Oblivion are you doing?”
“My Thane, look at her.”
She brushed her hair out of the face and looked at the bandit crawling away from them. The person wasn’t malnourished or stunted, she was only a child. Her face was smeared with dirt and blood and tears welled in her eyes.
The Dragonborn’s eyes were wide now, too. She glanced at Lydia and said, “She can’t be any older than twelve. What are we meant to do with her?”
The girl sat up suddenly, the tears spilling down her face. “You killed them! You killed all of them!”
Lydia stood, pulling her Thane up with her. The girl made no attempt to stand, instead she remained on the floor, wiping tears from her eyes.
“They were all I had,” she said, her voice quivering. “After mama and papa died they were all I had. And now you took them from me too.”
The Dragonborn’s face fell and her eyes met Lydia’s, silently asking, “What do we do?”. Lydia shook her head and her Thane sighed. She knelt down, scooping the girl up in her arms. She squirmed and punched at her, trying to free herself from the woman’s grasp.
“Oh, stop that,” she said, gently placing one hand on the girl’s back. “You need a bath and something to eat, don’t you?” The girl continued with her struggle but the Dragonborn dismissed it. “I suppose, if you stop punching me, I could find a proper bed for you to get some sleep in.” The punches continued, but only for a moment. They slowed and quickly came to an end. The Dragonborn exhaled, glancing at Lydia for approval.
“We can put a bed in the spare room. For a few days, at least,” she offered.
“See?” The woman said, gently rubbing the girl’s back. “We can all be friends.” She carefully side-stepped the bodies on the floor toward the exit of the cave. “Do you have a name?”
The girl sniffled and said, “Ophelia.”