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• My Characters Interacting... aka I'm Bored. Jul 6, 2012

  Lysara sat at a table in the Winking Skeever, sipping a goblet of alto wine and finishing off a piece of bread. She was passing the time before her good friend Aleksander made it to Solitude. They met not long ago, in this very tavern. She stopped in to rest after a day of hunting game, and he was in Solitude to see about aiding in the War.
  
  

  ---

  She was sitting at a small table by herself, as the rest of the pub was flowing with life and drink. The only seat left was the one across from her. Lysara got up to buy a drink, but when she returned to the table, a Nord had taken the other seat. He was fair-skinned, with short blonde hair and icy blue eyes. He was shining the blade of his battleaxe, with a bottle of mead next to him. She was a relatively shy person, so returning to her seat was the last of her thoughts.
  
  The Nord noticed her staring at him. "Is something the matter?" He set his axe down, smiling at her. "Perhaps I could be of assistance?"
  
  "No, no, that's not necessary," she said, though she thought he seemed rather nice. "It's nothing."
  
  "There is nothing wrong with asking for help, if you need it."
  
  "Oh, it's nothing... actually..." Her voice lowered a little. "Just that you took my table..."
  
  "Forgive me, miss," He pulled out the other chair. "I didn't know the table was taken. Would you mind if I joined you? I promise that I won't be a nuisance."
  
  She wanted to be alone, but she didn't want to be rude. Sometimes, company was nice. "I don't mind, Nord." She reclaimed her seat on the other end of the table, placing down a bottle of wine and a spell tome she was going to learn.
  
  "I see you are trying to learn a stronger healing spell. Very useful," He resumed polishing his battleaxe. "I learned that one a few nights ago, from a traveling mage."
  
  "You are familiar with restoration magic?"
  
  He laughed heartily. "Now, don't be fooled by my armour and axe. I dabble in certain Schools, Breton."
  
  "Well, don't be fooled by my tomes and robes, Nord. I am a good shot as well."
  
  The Nord smiled. "I am Aleksander, by the way. Aleksander Blackthorn. From where do you hail, friend? You don't look like you are from dear Skyrim, no offence...:
  
  "No, you are right. I hail from Cyrodiil, and my name is Lysara."
  
  "Well, Lysara, the pleasure is all mine. Now tell me, mage," He said tauntingly. "You say you are good with a bow and arrow?"
  
  "Actually, I am. It all started when I arrived here in Skyrim. There was a Bosmer that I met in Riverwood..."
  

  ---

  It was a memory she was quite fond of, for it was the day she met her dearest friend. She smiled at the thought of him, at the thought of their adventures and silly contests and even some of their arguments. They looked out for each other. He was the closest thing she had to family anymore.

  
  

  In the middle of her nostalgia, she didn't hear the Skeever's door open. Aleksander crept up behind her and picked her up out of her chair without warning. She swiftly tumbled out of the chair, pulling out a dagger and whirling around to see him standing there with the chair, laughing.

  
  

  "Very funny, you brute," she said, letting her dagger down. "One of these days, I'm actually going to cut you."

  
  

  He smiled at her. "Look at you, getting tough! I'm glad somebody has been roughing you up while I am gone."

  
  

  "Well, who else is going to beat you at your silly little brawling bouts?"

  
  

  "Certainly not you, mage. Certainly not you."

  
  

  They both sat down and swapped stories of their adventures.