Kaidan wished to capture her smile when he sat down beneath the old willow tree, crimson eyes gazing at the seemingly ordinary strings of twine he held. "Just like her," He murmured, weaving one piece over another before he realized what he muttered. "Well, she's much nicer to hold, er, she feels softer than... Oh for Fook's sake," Kaidan muttered to himself as the strings unraveled within his palm just as his thoughts did.
Her smile.

Her smile could make the coldest morning feel as though he were blanketed by her warmth. A softer smile - tender comfort. A sharper one, and his body lit up with a thrill, expecting the day to bring good fights, coin, and more importantly - an evening where she would relax beside him, and he could simply indulge in her joy as their little group celebrated another day of surviving, together.

That is what he wanted to weave. What he saw between his fingers, instead of the mere, harmless strings that lay against his calloused skin. While he knew many things, delicate spinning and weaving was not a skill in his arsenal.
But for her, he would. For she deserved an honest gift, while he built up the courage to find the words to tell her all she meant to him. Yet, until then, he would learn to thread the string as she entwined herself into his life. And in the future, be it willing, he'd carve for her, into a pendant, a visual message from his heart.

"Carys, save the dreaming for when the washing up is done, or you'll end up wrinkled as I be."

Tilma's eyes brimmed with affectionate amusement when the young woman startled where she'd been leaning against the sink staring out the window. A quick glance confirmed what she'd suspected: the lass had been sneaking peeks at a certain red-eyed fighter. Not that she blamed her, given his current shirtless and sweat-soaked glistening state, he had a form even her rheumy eyes could appreciate. "Ach! Your sleeves are soaked. Go change, I'll finish up. Kodlak was looking for you."

Ducking her head to hide her flushed cheeks, she hurried off to do as she was bid. A short time later, with dry sleeves and her hair tidy-ish, she raised a hand to knock on the open door of the Harbinger's room. "You wanted to see me, Kodlak?"

The Nord's lips curved up in a smile upon seeing her, one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and wiped away the lines of pain that had been lingering of late. "Aye, youngling. Come in and sit before the fire. There's a personal matter I wish to speak to you about."

When her expression clouded over with confusion, he smiled reassuringly and gestured to the small stool pulled up beside his chair in front of the hearth and waited until she'd settled herself to get to the crux of the matter. "The truth is, you've seemed distracted, as though something weighs heavy on your mind. I would offer a willing ear to listen, should you care to speak on it."

Her eyes widened with surprise, and a small startled squeak escaped her parted lips at his question. "Oh, um... no. I'm not. It uh, was just something I was wondering."

At his expectant expression and pointedly raised brow, her shoulders slumped, and she sighed softly. "I just... I, um, well, have wondered... what is love?"

Kaitober Day 14 by Red_Lunar

Brelyna sat near the fire reading the spell tomes she picked up the last time they were at the College. It had been an interesting read so far, but she was still working out some of the intricacies of the spell. Her journal sat near her leg, ready for notes, though she had yet to unstopper her ink. She'd learned her lesson after the last time. Cat had run through and knocked it over after someone trod upon his poor tail. Took her absolutely ages to get the ink out of her leggings, and she didn't even get it all.

As she sat there fiddling with her quill, she became aware of a pair of legs standing next to her. She looked up from her book to see Farkas. How the giant Nord has been able to walk up without her notice, while wearing heavy boots no less, was a testament to how engrossed she had let herself become. She needed to work on that if she was going to travel with the dragonborn. She needed to stay alert, because they never knew where the next danger would come from.

Brelyna looked at his face and noticed that Farkas looked rather red, almost feverish. She jumped to her feet worriedly, book tumbling from her lap into the dirt around the fire ring.

“Farkas! Are you alright? Should I send for the dragonborn?”, Brelyna reach up as high as she could, grabbing hold of Farkas’ arm and standing on her tiptoes, to place the backs of her fingertips to his forehead and cheek.

Farkas stepped back suddenly, nearly causing Brelyna to tumble face first into him at the sudden absence of support. Farkas grabbed her elbow to steady her and then cleared his throat.

“I'm fine.”.

“Are you sure? Your face is all red.”.

“Yeah. Here.”. He suddenly handed her a small package. “These are for you.”.

“What are they?”, Brelyna asked, perplexed. She hadn't said she needed anything.

“Well, I felt bad cause Cat knocked your ink over, and I saw those when we ran into Ri'saad. So I got em for you.”.

“Oh.”. Brelyna looked inside the package to find 4 finely shaved charcoals, with delicate wood holders so she wouldn't blacken her hands while writing. She beamed up at him.

“Oh, Farkas! They're lovely! Thank you!”.

“Yeah… ahem. Well… Glad you like em.”. He turned abruptly and marched off, his face still looking alarmingly red.

Brelyna looked back down at the charcoals, wondering why he would get her something so nice. She heard a slight commotion across camp, and then Farkas telling someone to “shut the fuck up!”. She just smiled, look at the gift again, and then sat down. She picked up her book and journal and carefully removed a charcoal from the package. She smiled again and glanced back up at Farkas. He wasn't too bad for a Nord.

She liked him.

“What can thieves do? Well, there are many things thieves can do. Be much more fun though if I tell you what thieves can't do… they can't resist a good score, they can't keep their mouths shut, and lately they can't seem to keep it in their pants either.”. Vekel stopped speaking a moment to grab another mug to clean.

“Now, resisting a good score, that's kind of self explanatory. A good thief sees a good score, even a simple one, and you'd be hard pressed to keep em from going after it. As for the other two…”.

Vekel stops to chuckle and shake his head as he starts wiping down the bartop.

“It's the new recruit, the Dragonborn. The moment they started coming around, and with a whole troupe in tow, the Flagon just hasn't been the same. Brynjolf got all possessive and snarly, people have been sneaking in with amulets, someone even tried to start a rumor about my Tonilia.”

shouted from the background “I'm not your's Vekel!”

“Anyway… Don't get me wrong, this recruit has been great for the guild. They've really turned this place around. Putting us back on the map. We've even filled a couple of merchant corners across the way.”

Proceeds to waggle-finger wave at a smithy across the “pond”, while an older balding man at a nearby table chokes on his ale and a grim woman facepalms and shakes her head.

“It's gotten really lively down here. And not always in a good way. Brynjolf has threatened, on more than one occasion, to dump someone into the cistern for just looking at the recruit. And don't get me started on Bryn and that Kaidan fella. They always seem to have a creative barb or insulting nickname to throw each other's way.”

leans in conspiratorially and whispers

“I think they just both want the Dragonborn. But neither of those two seems to have the stones to admit it to them.”

hollered from a distant table

“You Better not be spreading fucking rumors Vekel!”

“All good boss, all good!”. Vekel makes a face and jabs his thumb in the direction of the voice a couple times, mouthing the name ‘Bryn’ with a nod.

“So, yeah… resist a score, keep their yaps shut, keep it in their pants. Much more enjoyable than talking about a thief's skill set, dontcha think?”.

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