Nikolai and I indulged in the mead, relishing the warmth that spread through our bodies with each sip. The fire crackled nearby, casting dancing shadows that seemed to mirror the merriment in our hearts.
As the night wore on, the mead flowed freely, and laughter filled the air. Nikolai, usually the life of the party, finally reached his limit, a contented smile playing on his lips.
Seeing his state, I couldn't resist making a self-deprecating remark, a throwback to a night of revelry in El Nido. "If you're aiming to get me drunk..." I paused for dramatic effect, grabbing another bottle of mead and popping it open, "you'll have to keep trying all night!" I raised the bottle in a mock toast, the amber liquid sloshing gently inside.
A burst of laughter escaped me, the alcohol loosening my tongue and inhibitions. Hoping that it would drown my bereavement of my beloved Erica.
The mead certainly packed a punch, its warmth spreading through my veins and clouding my senses. I felt really, really drunk, the world spinning around me in a delightful haze.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and a figure entered. My vision swam as I tried to focus on the newcomer. She was a woman, her fair skin glowing in the dim light of Breezehome. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of silk, shimmering in the flickering candlelight. Her eyes, like sapphires, sparkled with a mixture of mischief and kindness, drawing me in with their mesmerizing gaze.
She was dressed in a miner's outfit, similar to Nikolai's, but she wore it with a grace and elegance that made it seem like a royal gown. Despite the dirt and grime of her work, her curves were accentuated, giving her a rugged yet alluring appearance.
As I watched Sylgja move closer, her expression suddenly changed, her features contorting into a look of anger or madness. "Who are you two, and what are you doing in our house?" Her voice was sharp, cutting through the drunken haze that clouded my mind. Wait, did she just say "our house"?
"Look, Miss..." I tried to interject, but she cut me off with a glare.
"It's Mrs. Stormcloak," she corrected me, her tone icy. "Sylgja Stormcloak, wife of Whiterun's Thane, Malik Stormcloak."
My heart skipped a beat. Malik Stormcloak? The Thane of Whiterun? This couldn't be happening. I tried to form words, to explain that we meant no harm, but Sylgja's next words sent a chill down my spine.
"And if both of you don't leave this house, I'll call the guards and put you two behind bars."
Panic surged through me, cutting through the alcohol-induced fog in my mind. We were in serious trouble. I glanced at Nikolai, who seemed to be helpless because he was too drunk.
Sylgja's expression softened as she listened, her features reflecting a mixture of concern and understanding. "I see," she said, her voice softer now. "I had no idea. Malik never told me about this."
Just then, the door creaked open once again, and Malik entered, his expression grave. "Sylgja, my love, I need to explain..."
Before he could finish, Sylgja cut him off. "Malik, why didn't you tell me about bring these strangers into our home without my knowledge?"
Malik looked sheepish, his gaze shifting between Sylgja and us. "I'm sorry, my dear. I didn't want to worry you, and I thought these two could help."
Sylgja sighed, her demeanor softening. "Well, they're here now. We might as well make the best of it. But first, Malik, we need to talk about our honeymoon. You promised me a trip to Solitude, and we haven't gone yet."
Malik's face fell, realizing his mistake. "Of course, my love. We'll leave for Solitude as soon as possible, I promise."
As the tension in the room eased, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. It seemed that we had managed to avoid disaster, at least for now. I glanced at Nikolai, who was grinning broadly, clearly pleased with how things had turned out.
As Malik's lips met Sylgja's, a wave of awkwardness washed over me. I felt like an intruder, witnessing an intimate moment that was not meant for my eyes. Nikolai, still helpless from the mead, let out a drunken chuckle beside me, oblivious to the tension in the room.
Sylgja pulled away from Malik, her expression softening. "Malik, these two..." she started, but Malik interrupted her with a dismissive wave of his hand.
"I know, I know," he said, turning to us with a sheepish grin. "Sylgja, dear, these are the two travelers I told you about. They're friends of mine, and soon will become a part of the Legion."
Sylgja's expression shifted from confusion to curiosity. "Oh? What kind of warriors are these two?" she asked, her eyes flickering with interest.
Malik hesitated, glancing at us before speaking. "It's... they still need advanced training. But trust me, they're here to help me and Legion."
Sylgja nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, welcome then. I suppose I owe you an apology for my earlier behavior. Please, make yourselves comfortable. We have much to discuss."
The cozy interior of Breezehome felt like a sanctuary, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled the air moments before.