Against the Wind

Allow me a brief exclamation of relief:

The day had started out clear and bright, but the winds should have told her that it would not stay that way. But in her eagerness to contribute fresh game to the house, she had ignored it and wandered out further than she probably should have. At first she had tried to hunt in the rain, but it was not long before she decided that it was coming down too hard, and went in search of cover.

The little derelict house had always made her sad, and had been avoided for the most part. But there were few other options, so she had quickly ducked under what remained of the roof. She had not been there long when a man suddenly appeared in the doorway. Halldis let out a loud gasp, and took a startled step backwards, raising her bow. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but after studying for a moment she decided that, like her, he only sought refuge from the rain.

“N-No…no trouble,” she agreed, quickly shaking her head. The bow was lowered – though, it had not yet been drawn – and a small, nervous smile was offered, “I just want in out of the rain…I assume it’s the same for you, yeah?”

Oh, thank Kyne. She seemed as startled as he was, and he was quick to confirm with a hurried nod.

"Yeah. Er... Sorry, do you mind if–..." With his back against the doorpost, he scooted inside just far enough to get under what was left of the roof, all the while maintaining a respectful distance. He’d lowered his hands a bit, though not entirely, keeping them in front of him still.  

It was not unheard of for the Jarls to call on the help of Companions when a problem occurred that could not be handled by their guards, and it was not uncommon for Circle members to be the ones who responded to those requests. This was why Indes wasted no time once she entered Morthal, quickly making her way to Highmoon Hall to report to Idgrod herself.

After the Jarl had finished her explanation and Indes spotted the nephew from the corner of her eye, she gave the older Nord an affirmative bow of her head. “Understood. You have my word that I will take care of them swiftly.” With that said, she now turned toward Anvindr as he approached. She took the hand that was offered, giving a quick but firm shake.

“Indes,” she responded, returning his smile for a second before their hands dropped. “I assume you are ready to go?”

"Yes, I'm prepared to head out."

It wouldn't do to leave a Companion waiting, quick enough as they usually were to throw a fit about how the common rabble didn't herald them like the heroes they thought themselves to be. Granted, many of them were heroes, truly, but that didn't make them King Wulfharth come again. Although, it was a relief to see that this one, Indes, didn't look like one for idle boasting. At first glance, at least. Only time would tell, but Anvindr was optimistic. And that was saying something.

Smart young man. She chuckled, glancing over the buzzing festivities before turning her gaze back to him. “You’re right, of course. And why miss out and good food and drink, hm? I’m very well, thank you, and Ivarstead’s the same. Having their own little celebration around a roasted boar even now, I wager. And how are you, Anvindr?” She offered him the little, nearly empty tray she’d been carrying around for this early part of the evening. “Apple cider caramel?”

“I’ll have one.” He'd been wondering what those were. “Thank you.”

He picked one and bit into it. Oh, gods. It was good. Smooth and very, very sweet, melting on his tongue.

“Me? No, I’m just watching too,” she offered a small smile, and quickly shook her head, “Competitions make me rather nervous, I’d likely just make a fool of myself.”

“Not everything. I don’t think I could fit it all in.” Shey talked easily, as if she hadn’t just walked up to a stranger and initiated a conversation. “You have any suggestions?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to.” She’d expected him to immediately rebuff her or shrug it off. Baby steps. “What are you having?”

“Another mead, please.”

Should he–... Should he wait, or...? That’d be awkward, to cut their conversation short, having only just greeted each other. And it didn’t feel right, standing around waiting with nothing on hand, either. 

Credit where it was due: He missed perhaps only half a beat, before he supplied his answer. He didn’t need more, to imagine one of her people had seen him sell fish to a guardsman last week, assumed he’d passed on information about their organization, and decided he’d have to be removed. Poison would do it, wouldn’t it? If they’d pick one he didn’t know about. One that wasn’t local. 

And he didn’t need more, either, to suppress those thoughts, just as quickly. No. No. He’d know. Or... would he? Maybe she was just that good. No. Kyne’s sake...

“... Uh.”

He shot a glance over his shoulder, expecting to spot someone else she could’ve possibly addressed. No, it was him. Huh... By her attire, he’d think she was some kind of extravagant noble, but nobles didn’t get chewed up like that. And none of that answered the question why in Kyne’s name she’d be talking to the likes of him.

He’d had enough mead now to chuckle at that.