Fandom I Just Died in Your Arms (Irradiatedwarden)

[HoneyedHopes]

A snort answered his jest, as she leaned back–carefully, as she felt like she'd fall off the horse at any moment–in order to get a better look at his face. "If I can handle you, the worst of them all, I can handle anything this wretched place throws my way. Besides," she glanced around, taking in the scenery, the bright green trees that sparkled from the ice under the sun. "It's not all bad, here. I've met more good people than bad, and I've made good friends. It'll keep."


No more than an hour later, they reached the Palace of the Kings, it's snowy walls towering over her head. She almost felt intimidated, what with the glares full of daggers that Nords threw in her direction. But she trekked on, just in front of Grimm, right up to the grand doors. Hand on the handle, she turned back to her companion, a small grin tugging at her lips. "Ready to get this over with? Try to be on your best behavior for the Jarl, yes? Keep the insults to a minimum." Not that she'd ever heard him say a single bad thing about the man.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

The Palace of the Kings.


Grim stared up at the building, his breath frothing out in front of him. He hadn't been to the Palace in ages, not since he first moved up there and went to the Jarl on behalf of a friend who wanted something that Grim could no longer remember. Nal placed a hand on the frosty handle and with that his final hope that she'd leave him be to go talk to Ulfric on his own left. Great. He'd have to actually do this.


"Insults towards you or him?" With that he reached for the other door and pulled it open.


The warm air that hit his face felt less like a blessing and more like a condemnation. The long hall that lead up to the throne was empty save for the guards and at the head of it all sat the usurper himself. The guards were watching them and had Grim been alone it might have been no big deal, but right then he was painfully aware of who he had with him.


Still he strolled forward, heavy steps tracking in snow behind him.


Ulfric lifted his head and watched them from his throne, his eyes tired and growing harsher by the moment. "I was unaware I was supposed to have an audience today."


"We didn't make an appointment, Jarl Ulfric, as the issue came up rather...suddenly."


"Let me guess, that thing stole something from you?" His gaze moved to Naloru then, distaste coloring his eyes and voice.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

As usual, Naloru's senses were otherwise engaged, too busy taking in the complexity of the Palace of Kings. For her first time in the Capital of Skyrim, she felt somewhat disappointed, as images of Alinor's vast glass spires came to mind, and their elegant patterns made the Palace of Kings' walls look like plain slabs of cliff face. She and Grim approached the throne, and she strayed back behind him, leaving Grim to relay the news. Only the pointed silence that followed Ulfric's comment caught her attention, and pulled her in to the conversation.


"Excuse me?" Naloru asked politely, raising her eyebrows. She truly had not heard him. She turned to look at Grim, and found his expression to be stone, every definition of his features sharper than she'd seen them in months.


Ulfric repeated himself, and leaned a cheek against his fist. After the first once over he gave Nal, his gaze never returned to her, and instead trained on Grim, waiting expectantly for him to condemn his elven companion. Naloru, however, swallowed hard, and raised her voice.


"I'm sorry, sera, we must have confused you. We just want to report a potential emergency." She dared not say anything more, not to the ruler of Skyrim. But when she put her head back down, her eyes burned, and the pit of her stomach had turned to ice.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

"Sera?" There was something dark in Ulfric's tone, dangerous. "You dare address me with-."


"Ulfric." Grim spoke out, his tone low and sharp enough to cut the Jarl's speech short. The silence that grew around them was heavy, thick as the two Nords stared at one another. Grim's jaw tightened, his neck straining to show a vein on the side that pulsed with just how tightly he was clenching his teeth.


There was no unspoken understanding, not really, but once Grim was sure he had made his point, he continued.


"We have come to inform you that a werewolf has been spotted a few miles east of here. We felt as though you should be aware so you could do with this information as you please. That's all."


And without being dismissed, Grimuald turned away from the High King of Skyrim. Without thinking he reached out, grabbing Naloru's wrist without breaking stride. He hadn't wanted to do that in the first place, he didn't want to bother with any politicians yet alone the one who had used the Voice to murder for his position. That was why he was so suddenly irritated, he just had to keep telling himself that. There was no other reason for his soured from other than, perhaps, the fact that Nal had tagged along at all.


Yeah, that was why he was mad.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

Naloru allowed herself to be pulled out of the Palace, though the pressure around her wrist gave her no room to argue. Once the expansive gates had closed behind them and the guards were out of earshot, She struggled to wrench free of Grim's grip. Her heels skidded, piling up snow, but the Nord did not slow.


"Hey, let go! Where are you going?" He didn't respond. Nal reached forward and smacked him on the arm. "Hey, Grim!" What had gotten into him?


Naloru, of course, was smoldering on the inside. Very little held her back from venting, from gathering up as many rotten vegetables as she could afford and chunking them at those oppressive, grey walls. Very little besides Grim's presence kept her from shedding tears. What had gotten into him? What had gotten into her? She'd faced worse insults from Grim himself.


But she couldn't dwell on that. She turned attention back towards Grim's strained back, and waited for him to explain his actions.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

He was so mad and with every step he took that deep, seething anger only increased. Dammit they had such a nice morning too, and maybe that made t even worse. He had liked talking to her, had liked listening to her little bits of stories, and yet all of that joy from hours earlier had vanished completely. Maybe he missed that feeling.


It wasn't one he had often anymore.


She smacked his arm and, finally, Grim came to a stop. He stared forward, rolling his jaw as he tried to find some sort of an answer to her question. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew he didn't want to be there, not with that asshole who called himself a Jarl.


Maybe he didn't even want to go home.


Grumbling, almost growling, he scrubbed his rough palms against his face before turning to look back at her, the tip of his nose a dusty pink from the chill.


"How do you let...let idiots like him," he threw his arm out, motioning back towards the Palace, "talk to you like that?"

 

[HoneyedHopes]

Naloru blinked. That was what had bothered him? Suddenly her own fury dissipated, clearly sucked up by Grim.


"Uh... you mean the 'thief' part? Or are you referring to the bit where he called me a 'thing'...?" She tapped a finger against her chin, a frown tugging at her lips. "I mean, it's not the first time anyone has said such a thing to me. And it definitely won't be the last. This is Skyrim." She sighed. "Usually, at the inn, I fight back. No one like name-calling on their own property. But today... That was a Jarl. He could have the inn burned down in a matter of hours, if he wanted."


She looked up at his eyes, the moss green fogged over by hot steam. It tickled her that he was bothered enough by it to yell. She allowed him a small grin, as a thank you.


"Besides," she said with the flick of her hand, "You've said far worse. Thanks to you, I've got a thick skin."

 

[Interstellar Bun]

She grinned, and for a split second he was almost placated.


And then her final words hit him.


They felt sharp, like she had tossed a knife of ice with that flick of her hand and it had impaled his lungs. She hadn't said them like he some some terrible person, no, she said it easily, casually. But, Grim never said anything that bad to her, did he?


He was just playing. That's all.


Except he wasn't. He could never really convince himself of that lie, could never bring himself to believe that he had been anything but cruel to her because of her race alone. That anger trained out of him though his shoulders remained tense, his jaw clenching again at the realization that it was thanks to him that she had thick skin.


He wasn't sure if he felt ashamed or sick but it left his stomach churning either way.


Mouth dry, he found he wasn't sure what to say. So, instead, he turned away.


"I bet you want to get back to your inn."

 

[HoneyedHopes]

She didn't really want to go back to the inn. Logically, she knew she needed to be there, for Bartrand's sake and Sig's. Her heart felt constricted, however, as her throat tightened and her hands twitched a bit. After the event with the wolves just a few weeks prior, she didn't feel prepared to take on a werewolf. What if she couldn't defend herself, what if her family got hurt because of her?


In the end, that fear dominated her logic, and she placed another hand on Grim's shoulder. She wouldn't show him her fear, but she might force him to help distract her.


With a quick smile, she shook her head. "I should stick up while we are here. You'll help me, won't you?" She narrowed her eyes. "Or is it too embarrassing to go shopping with a 'thing' like me?" To reiterate the playfulness of her jab, skipped ahead of him, beckoning him with the flap of her fingers. Come on, maybe it'll be fun! Let's go to the bakery first!"

 

[Interstellar Bun]

There was that word again, thing.


Any other time he actually would have been embarrassed to go shopping with her, but he wasn't then. Even if the Ulfric incident hadn't happened, maybe he still wouldn't be embarrassed. He stepped towards her, his feet heavy like stone. Why was she asking him to do that? Why was she acting like everything was okay.


She couldn't really be that used to it. It was wrong, it was disgusting, and he had been the cause of it. It was disgusting because he hadn't always been mean.


"Whatever you want." And he meant it.


He easily caught up with her, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trousers as he tried to shake off how uncomfortable he was feeling.


"You'll need me to carry things anyway."

 

[HoneyedHopes]

Naloru took her time going through each store, letting herself be fully emerged in the tediousness of the task of shopping. She examined each item carefully, weighing it's attributes to the others around it. Mostly, she stayed silent throughout the selection process. But every so often she would reach out to Grim, for either his opinion, or merely to tease him. She knew Grim never smiled, but his earlier outburst made her want to ease the tension that had built up in his shoulders.


Four loaves of bread, a bundle of vegetables, and two shipments of glass later, Naloru came to a stop at the edge of the market. She and Grim had split baskets of goods in half, but as she approached, she held out her portion.


"I have one last stop to make," she told him, "and I need you to stay here and hold on to this stuff." There was a twinkle in her eyes, but she fled the scene before he could make any comment. Once she was out of sight, she slowed again.


"What should I get him?" She wondered aloud. After all, he had been kind enough to allow her to travel with him. She was sure that must have taken some self-sacrifice for him. The least she could do was show her gratitude.


She passed a woodworking table, and the idea sparked in her head. "It'll be a bit rough, but..." She looked up at the sky. Three hours until the Suns would dip in to the horizon. She could pull it off. With a clenched fist and a bright expression, she waved down the crafter.


---


"That took far too long," she cursed herself as she made a mad dash around the market. What if Grim had already left her? She pushed between a couple of nords, and barely managed to utter an apology within their earshot. Finally, she made it back to the spot where she had left Grim. She looked around wildly, praying she could pinpoint her companion.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Grim remained quiet as Nal shopped around, though that wasn't anything special. He was a quiet individual and liked to think that he only spoke when he really needed to, or when he was with his friends as few and far between as those were.


In addition, aside from making jibes at him, Nal didn't really seem to mind or really notice his existence outside of handing him things to hold.


And then she shoved everything into his arms and vanished.


Great.


He had stood there, waiting for what felt like ages before he wandered off to the local inn. He didn't actually stay there long, no, he had grabbed a bottle of ale before returning to the spot he had been told to wait at like an obedient dog. It was a little longer before he took a few steps to the side to sit down. All of the groceries resting at his feet, Grim pulled the stopper out of the bottle and took a swig.


He watched people and in his personal silence he found his mind wandering back between two topics: Nal and his cruel words, and what Lia would have said to him. Neither line of thought was one he particularly wanted to follow and he was almost genuinely happy when he saw her face in the crowd.


He lifted his drink in greeting before leaning down to pick everything back up. Biceps flexing he stood and took a few steps back towards her.


"Find what you were looking for, Darvvo?"

 

[HoneyedHopes]

The bottle of ale in his hand aside, Nal was relieved to see his shoulders had pulled away from his ears, and though the wrinkles between his brow never really disappeared, the lines had softened, to a degree. He still seemed agitated, but less so. It was a start.


When he asked about her shopping, she grinned and rustled through the pocket of her apron.


"Yep," Then she held out her hand. In it was a carving of a wolf made with quick, messy cuts. Around its neck hung cloves of rosemary and snowberry leaves. Finally, a small silver bell tinkled lightly in the breeze, playing a foreign melody.


"It's a talisman," Naloru said, her voice dipping as she realized she hadn't really thought this far. "I, um, thought that maybe it would help. Keep you out of trouble." She coughed. And shrugged quickly. "Anyway, it's a thank you for letting me tag along today. Take it or throw it away." Lest he see the blush creeping into her skin, she set a brisk pace back to the stables.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

He didn't know what he had expected her to go off and find, maybe a dress, a new set of knives, but not a small carving.


The fact that it was a wolf was enough to make him huff a laugh, a grin pulling at his lips. It was a little messy but that was part of the charm. It was nice for a plethora of reasons he didn't care to try and dissect, not when the simple gift make him happy already.


"I like it." And tucking it away into one of the bags so it would be safe, he followed after her as she set off for the stables.


His horse was waiting, asleep on her feet until he scratched her neck. Setting the bags down, he got the large beast saddled up. It took some effort but soon everything was loaded and he lead the animal out into the open. Hoisting himself up onto his trusty horse, he held his hand out for Nal to grab so he could drag her up there with him.


"When did you learn how to carve?" He was curious and, at the same time, some part of him wanted to recapture that bit of magic from earlier that morning, when they actually talked in more than just quips.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

Though the horse still made her uneasy, Naloru stepped closer to the creature and accepted Grim's hand, allow by him to hoist her on to the horse with ease. She would have felt further unease over where, exactly, she needed to place her hands, but Grim pulled out of the stable with a rush of speed, and forced her to latch on without much thought.


His question surprised her, stealing her breath for a matter of seconds while her mind shuffled for the answer. She entertained the idea of lying, as usual, but the notion didn't quite stick in her gut.


"I had a teacher for a few years in the Black Marshes, who taught me woodworking as a whole." Not to mention, the Dark Brotherhood encouraged members to craft their own weapons. She already had the knack for carving. "It's been a helpful trick to have while I've been running the inn."


She didn't know what else to say, but his silence led her to believe he wanted to hear more. So she let herself go. "I built the greenhouse by myself when Bar and I first arrived in Skyrim. And a few months ago, a regular named Kael helped me set up those back rooms in the inn." She chuckled, losing herself a bit to the memories.


After a moment, she cleared her throat. "What about you? Have you always been a miner?"

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Clicking his tongue against his teeth, Grim nudged his horse forward. As Nal spoke, he looked forward, eyes scanning the distance, the sky. The soft scent of a storm was carried on the wind and Grim frowned. Just what they needed. Still listening, he reached up and, one hand still holding the reigns, he undid the fastener on his cloak and slung it back to her.


He didn't think his actions needed explaining, not when the temperature was already starting to drop.


"No. I was part of a local guard for a few years, sailed for a few more, and took up hunting when I lived down in Whiterun." There was a weight in his throat as he mentioned the quiet town.


Before she could ask, if she would ever even care to, Grim continued. "I only took up mining once I moved here. I had no idea what I was doing, but I figured swinging a pick was about the same as swinging a sword."


And he had picked it up quickly. Grimuald was strong even for a Nord and the others had been more than willing to show him the ropes and subtle nuances of the job, what minerals to pick, how to move them, and how to bond out of necessity. He appreciated them and though he wouldn't say he was happy with where he lived, he could say he was content.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

When Grim tossed back his cloak it hit Nal straight in the face, and she nearly choked on the thick fabric. "Hey!" She yelped. What was his problem? Was that his way of telling her to shut up? But then he started talking, and sharing more information about himself than Naloru had ever gotten in one sitting. She found herself listening intensely, hanging on every word.


His time sailing, in particular, caught her attention. Her first reaction was a recoil; the image of the two of them meeting previously caused bile to rise in her throat. She swallowed it down.


"Did you go to many places, during your time sailing? Why did you decide to stop? What made you decide to move here?" She stopped, and put her head down, burying it into Grim's back. "Sorry," she said, her voice muffled by both the cloak that was still wedged between them and his back, "Was that too many questions?" She didn't want to bother him too much, lest he choose to throw her off the horse.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Instead of telling her that she hadn't asked too many questions, he opted to simply answer them instead. That saved time.


"Never went too far. I worked with a company that would move supplies between Solitude and Daggerfall." There was almost a sense of fondness when he spoke. He had been young then, bright eyed and energetic, ready to travel and see the world. That seemed like such a life time ago, though, and for all purposes it was. He wasn't the same person.


"I stopped when my life took a change." He rolled hips lips for a moment. "And I ended up here because it was convenient."


Finally, he stole a look back at her. The wind whipped his hair into his face, making his constant frown deepen, the hair carving out the lines of his jaw and cheekbones.


"It's going to get cold, put that around you.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

Naloru's heart dropped. He had answered her questions, and she was grateful, but he had avoided the subject she truly wanted to talk about. And why did she want to know about his wife, anyway? Her heart twisted as images of a younger, happier Grim arm in arm with a young blonde crossed her mind. She shook the thoughts. He said something about putting on the cloak, but the words passed by her.


She just wanted to know what happened to her. Lia? That's right. And she wanted to know if her regular was, in fact, a cold blooded murderer.


But she didn't know how to breach the topic. Should she just throw it out there? Or would he throw her off the horse? That was her main concern at this point.


She sighed and groaned. Out with it! "Have you... ever been married?" She hated herself.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Grimuald stiffened at the question. It was like she had carved into his spine with a knife before shoving salt into the wound. Feeling colder than a nord like him ever should have Grim was barely even aware of the silence that was passing between them, of the gentle rocking motion of the horse below him, the scent of an incoming storm that couldn't rival what was brewing inside of him.


He gnawed his teeth, jaw rolling as he tried to make the strange tightening feeling in his ribs go away.


He wanted to throw her off the horse, wanted to kick snow in her face not because she was a Dunmer, but because she didn't know when to stop, she had asked a question knowing what his answer was going to be.


Maybe that was the worst part of it.


"Sig told you, huh?" His words weren't so much tight as they were empty, as though he had already resigned himself to what was about to happen.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

He hadn't thrown her off, but she considered jumping off herself. He didn't just seem mad–he felt enraged, inconsolable. She had stepped on a trap fully aware of its position in Grim's heart, and now she watched in slow motion as it exploded in her face. She had two choices; run always, like she always did, or face it.


"Sig didn't mention anything," she lied, voice quavering. She hoped the cold chatter of her teeth would conceal her shakes. Even still she pulled away from his back, as far as she could. "I just thought I would ask. It's just a question, alright?" the courage drained from her limbs. "Answer or don't. I was just curious."

 

[Interstellar Bun]

She was lying about Sig, he could hear it in her voice. He knew he shouldn't have let those two get together, shouldn't have let them out of his sight for even a moment. But he had, and now he was facing a question he didn't want to answer and the sensation of betrayal.


Why had she said anything?


Why had he trusted her at all?


He pulled the horse to a stop so sharply that it made a noise of distress. The muscles in his arms and back were straining, perfectly tense like a bow string that was about to snap.


"Yes. I was married. Lia was why I stopped sailing, I became a hunter so I could provide for my family but that didn't seem to work out too well now did it?" There was a shaking quality to his voice, like he was just stopping himself from snapping in half. The horse could feel it, was starting to shift nervously. "Now are you done digging into me after I tried to be nice to you or are you going to get off?"

 

[HoneyedHopes]

She didn't move right away, too shocked to pull the scattered pieces of her mind back into place. She stared at his eyes, his pupils dilated to pintops. Even the trees around them, covered in ice and snow, seemed warmed than his gaze. She slid off the horse slowly, as if not to startle a rabid animal. Before she could say anything more, he rode off, his angry roar echoing in her eyes long after he'd disappeared from view.


The walk back to the inn took her well into the night. More than once, she clutched her knives between her fingers, as groups of bandits or assassins or thieves wandered too close to her trail. All the while, she cursed herself. She should have kept her mouth shut. Why hadn't she? More and more, she felt like she asked herself those rhetorical questions too often. Her actions didn't even make sense to her. Maybe that was the problem. Too soon for her thoughts to be sorted, the inn came into view.


--


Days passed without a sound from Grim. The other miners told her he hadn't gone to work. Sigdis, too, hadn't heard from him. She told Naloru not to worry, but as three days passed, her feet itched.


She packed up a loaf of bread, her feeble excuse to visit. She didn't feel as though she had a right to, well aware that it was her fault. But she would feel even more responsible if something had happened to him. So she marched over the hill, towards the hit. As she reached the front door, she took note of the lack of smoke coming from his chimney. Was he home? Had he gotten lost on his way back from Windhelm?


"Grim? It's me, Naloru!" She banged on his front door. No response came. She banged again, before checking the knob. It was locked.


She hesitated. The assassin in her mind pointed out three weak points around the walls and roof that she could break into. But was he ignoring he on purpose? With a sigh, she stalked towards the kitchen window. Just a peek.


Through the afternoon light, she made out the cold fireplace and the small couch that Naloru had once slept on. Though the kitchen counters were cluttered with overturned cups, nothing else looked disturbed. She was about to give up and head back to the inn when she caught sight of a bare foot, peaking out from around the corner of the couch.


"Grim!" she yelped, and jiggled open the window. Leaping through, she knocked over a few dishes, and they shattered against the floor. She felt the clay knick her bare feet, but she brushed it aside. Instead, she scrambled over to the inert Nord lying on the ground. "Grim, are you okay? Are you awake?" Her hands fluttered over every part of him, searching for injuries.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

The door to his house slammed open and Sigdis's head popped up from the book she'd been reading. Her almond eyes were wide, confused, and he could see that even tin that moment that someone as endlessly brave of her seemed frightened by him. She'd seen him turn, had watched his body morph into the monster he so much felt like, but this seemed to be so much worse.


"Grim."


"Get out."


"Hey, I was just-." She stood and for someone sto tall and strong, she seemed dwarfed by the way he rolled his shoulders up, looming over her.


"Get out."


And she did.


The door slammed shut behind her and he was left alone. That was what he wanted, what he deserved. He didn't need friends, didn't need anyone at all except for someone he could never have again.


It was those thoughts that made him go to the cabinets and take out one ale, and then another, and another until he had lost count and he could smell the alcohol on his breath every time he gave a shaky exhale.


He lost track of time laying there on the ground, staring blury-eyed up at the wooden patterns in his ceiling. When he felt tired he slept, and when he got up he drank until he was sure that he was half dead. It wasn't enough.


The anger had faded and in its place came a deep, profound sorrow that only seemed to become more intense with every breath he took, as he realized all he had done, all he had said.


The sound of someone breaking in reached his ears and he was half hoping that it was a thief who would just put a knife into him right then. He didn't move, didn't do anything buy sigh when he finally saw who it was. He closed his blood shot eyes that were rimmed red from old tears.


"No."


No, he wasn't okay. He hadn't been okay for a long time.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

Naloru sat back on her heels, trying to decide which of her questions he was answering. His voice felt raw and tired, but no longer angry, for which she felt relieved. Besides the stank of stale ale that permeated from him, he didn't seem injured. Once she resolved he was okay, at least physically, she scooted away, but stayed within arm's reach. She pulled her knees to her chin.


"I–" The words stuck in her throat. What could she say? She wasn't so dense that she couldn't attribute this reaction to her damned pestering. She let out a ragged breath. If she couldn't make it better with an apology, she would at least stay with him until she felt sure he could get back on his feet on his own. She owed him that.