In Love and War

Chapter Eight: The King's Helm

I grunted as Gaius dropped a large sack of flour on my shoulder. The powder from inside puffed out of the small holes in the sack and surrounded me in a white cloud. I frowned as I attempted to move out of the dust, but I could already feel it tickling my nose. My involuntary sneezed caused my cousin  to laugh as he picked up his own bag and tossed it over his shoulder. "What's so funny?" I snapped, but I too was fighting off my own chuckle. 

He walked past me, swatting at the cloud in his way. "I'm sorry, but it looks like you're covered in snow." He chuckled again as I followed after him. "There's a hole in the top. I guess when I gave it to you I ripped it."

"If you hadn't have dropped it so hard, we wouldn't have wasted so much. You barely have any on you," I whined as I examined him. Part of me believed he did it on purpose; his deep chuckle didn't ease my mind any either. "You won't think it's funny when Uncle checks inventory and sees we're missing half a bag."

He grinned at me, attempting to charm his way out of trouble. "Don't exaggerate. It's not nearly that bad." He adjusted the sack on his shoulder as he walked. "I'll have Faida cook some bread with what's left. He won't know any of it was missing then."

As I followed him from the wagon to the "Four Shields", I looked up at the blue-gray sky. It had been a little over a month since our arrival in Skyrim. The summer months were coming to an end and the crisp breath of autumn was at our door. The cold wasted no time in its arrival as it appeared snow would be falling sooner than expected. In preparation, my uncle ordered extra rations for our camp that month, just in case the roads were impassible by wagon. I advised him to order our winter uniforms or blankets at the very least, but he assured me the ones we had were fine. Still, I did not look forward to braving the elements in just my cold, leather gear.

Gaius set his bag down on the porch outside of the tavern, laying it against the wall beside the other supplies we had unpacked. He took the open bag from my shoulder and set it closer to the door. He smirked slightly as he dusted the powder from my shoulder and hair. I waved him off and started back for the wagon. "I'll probably get worse carrying other bags. We can just wait until we're done."

He followed, wiping off the little that covered his uniform. "I can't wait for real snow."

"I can," I yawned, stealing another glance up at the sky. I was reminded of the snow that seemed to permanently covered Windhelm. I was not looking forward to every in of the country being so cold. "I wish Skyrim was warmer, like Cyrodiil."

He nodded slowly. "I miss home, too. We'll be back before you realize it, Tali. Maybe Father will let us go home for the Old and New Life Festivals. Mother will probably be making apple pies and sweet rolls." He hummed at the thought, closing his eyes.

"Maybe," I answered, trying not to express the mix of emotions I felt. I knew I would probably never set foot back in Cyrodiil, but I wasn't going to let Gaius know that. With everything I knew about the empire, I doubted I'd be able to return to my home without the feeling of disgust. I loved the land and I loved the people, but I couldn't love a country they would tolerate such evil.

Gaius smiled down at me before grabbing another sack from the back of our supply wagon. He started to hand it over to me before pausing mid-motion. His gaze rested on something past me and I quickly turned to see what he was staring at. I smirked as I heard him whisper, "By the Eight..."

A familiar fiery-haired Nord was crossing over the bridge into town. Even from a distance, her beauty was captivating. She let her waist long hair flow freely behind her tight tavern dress. The green and brown gown was slightly more exposing than what I would call modest, but I supposed it served its purpose in making her appear like a normal citizen. Kaita carried only a dagger on her hip, but I was assured she handled it well enough to defend herself from any attack.