Chapter Text
It was a long day in Eastmarch. Mariska sighs as the last dolmen is destroyed. She and Zerith-var have spent the day running around the country stopping the dolmens from taking hold. They also helped out with some missing villagers in various settlements. Mariska shivers and whistles for her mount, a larger horse than she is used to riding. The Nords are quite a large people, so she supposes it makes sense that their mounts are also larger in comparison.
The horse approaches and being a very tall and lithe Altmer, Mariska easily swings herself up and over the horse’s back. She stops the horse and settles in the very large saddle and holds her hand down to her companion.
Zerith-var stares at Mariska’s outstretched hand and jokes, “What? You tire of walking?”
Mariska sighs again. “Are you afraid of horses? You have avoided riding all day. I am cold and tired and wish to retire to the nearby inn for the night. Take my hand and let’s go.”
Zerith-var hesitates and then seems to steel himself as if to prove he is not afraid of the horse. “This one will ride the horse if you are in such need of rest.” He takes her hand and pulls himself up and over the mount, settling closely behind Mariska. He tries to keep a small distance between them, but Mariska starts their horse on their journey. The movement sends Zerith-var forward and he sets his paws on Mariska’s hips to keep himself from faceplanting into the back of her head.
“Are you all right back there?” Mariska inquires with what Zerith-var is sure is amusement.
“Yes, this one is just fine.”
Mariska continues down the path toward Eastmarch. They have booked a room at the Candlehearth Hall. There had only been one room, since this never ending festival has brought so many to the capital. Luckily, it has a large enough bed for the two of them. They will not have to cozy up in a single, or have someone sack out on the floor.
Zerith-var listens to the hooves of the horse hit the trail and finds himself drawn to the smell coming off the back of Mariska’s neck. She always wears her hair up in braids to make combat easier. He has yet to see it down. Her hair shines even more golden in the sunset light. The smell reminds him of home, but he could not place exactly what the smell is. Zerith-var is surprised as being Khajit means smells should be easy for him to identify. He will have to ask her about this some other time when they are not so intimately close.
“Are you even cold?” Mariska calls over the sound of the horse and the wind.
Zerith-var startles. “What? - Uh, no. As long as this one remains dry, this one will be fine outside in the snow.”
“Oh? Is living in Elsweyr difficult then? It’s so hot there. I can barely wear anything under my armor.”
“It is very warm in Elsweyr, but the sun warms my fur and I appreciate the cool waters and breezes much more.”
“That is very poetic, Zerith. With how well you fight, I forget that you are also quite the scholar.”
“This one is no scholar, I only like to read and appreciate the small things.” He suddenly feels a large shudder go through Mariska and notices that she has been shivering this whole time. “Why did you not tell this one that you are struggling in the cold?”
“I’m fine. We will be there soon and I can bathe and change into some dry, warm clothes.”
Zerith-var huffs and unclips the cape that she had insisted on him wearing. He takes both hands off her long enough to wrap the cape around her front like a blanket and then adjusts both of them so that she is snugly against his front. She holds the reins loosely in her lap now, luckily the horse knows where it is going. He moves his hands up and down her arms trying to warm her up under the cape. Her light armor and simple clothes underneath give away just how cold she really is.
After a few minutes, he notices that she has stopped shivering. In a small quiet voice Mariska murmurs, “Thank you.”
“Next time, tell me of your state before it gets this bad,” Zerith-var grunts back at her. He settles his arms around her waist and leans his head against hers. She softly and carefully moves the side of her head against his fur.
“Sorry, that is probably very offensive. I should not have-” Mariska stammers, trying to move her head away from him.
“It is all right, tamiit. This one will only tease you a little about this in the future.” Zerith-var chuckles and gently rubs back against the side of her head. After several minutes, he switches sides to warm her other ear.