Chapter 7: Bad news
Gerdur rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath. Then she turned slightly, and for the first time, I got a proper look at her.
'Eh, I don't mind those little changes.'
Golden-brown hair cascaded past her shoulder, twisted into a loose braid near the ends. Her skin, white like snow, even working under the sun, didn't faze her. She had the sharp, angular beauty of a Nord—strong yet undeniably feminine.
But it was her eyes that caught me. A deep, stormy blue, the kind that held both authority and kindness.
She wore a deep-green Bodice snug to her frame, the lace-up front, woven tight, only enhanced the curves of her chest. Long sleeves, made from thick fabric, hugged her arms.
The square neckline, showing her cleavage just enough to entice a monk, drew me even closer.
I shifted to the side, angling myself for a clearer view, my gaze drinking in every detail.
Alvor kept hammering away, but Gerdur had gone silent, arms still crossed, staring at the half forged tools as if willing it to be done faster.
This was my moment.
I stepped forward, feigning curiosity as I ran a hand over the workbench. "Sound like a tough job, keeping the mill running."
Gerdur turned her head slightly, looking at me out of the corner of her eye. "It is." A simple answer. Guarded.
I smirked, running a finger through the dust coating the table. "Can we talk in private?" I said, all expressions from my face gone.
"What do you, a stranger, and I have to talk about?" Gerdur shunned me.
I was about to open my mouth to say something when, "You should," came the voice of Alvor from the side.
She glanced at Alvor, her shoulders slumped before sighing, "Follow me," she said and walked to her mill. Next to the mill was a small fishing dock grazing the river bank; we stood at the end, and I watched the river flow with heavy currents.
"Spit it out already," Gerdur said, impatient, again.
I exhaled, playing it just right. "Ralof," I said, my tone relaxed and sincere, like I was reminiscing.
"He talked about you," I added, hearing her brother's name by a stranger put her more on guard, and she shifted back slightly, afraid.
A Legionnaire? Her mind raced with ideas of what this could be about. Though she hadn't met her brother in a long while, she knew Ralof had a bone to pick with the empire.
But she knew he wouldn't do anything stupid. I leaned against the wooden railing, setting the hook deeper. "He talked about the mill. How you were keeping everything running while he was off, doing his own thing. Said you were stubborn, always pushing yourself too hard. Never asked for help."
That got a reaction—just a flicker, her eyes narrowing slightly before she masked it.
I smirked. "Guess he wasn't lying."
Gerdur scoffed, hiding her increasing anxiety with a strong front. "Is that all?" As the word left her mouth, fear gripped her.
If something bad has happened to him, what will she do? He's her only family left.
I could see the mask shifting, melting as her anxiety filled eyes flickered and for the first time I felt bad, but I pushed it aside, as I remembered that fucker closing the door on my face.
I let the silence stretch, watching her shift uneasily. Let her mind stew in the uncertainty.
Then, I sighed, my voice dropping just enough to sound heavy, "He's dead, Gerdur."
She flinched. Just slightly, but I caught it. A sharp inhale, her shoulders stiffening, her arms tightening across her chest like she could squeeze the words out of existence.
While I admired the propping rack, I wished I was the one lifting them. I shook my head as I heard her voice.
"No…" she whispered, shaking her head. "No, that's not—he wouldn't—"
I didn't say anything. I just held her gaze, letting the weight of the truth settle.
Her lips parted, her breath coming shallow and uneven. She turned her head, eyes darting toward the rushing river, like she was trying to steady herself. As if looking away from me would make it untrue.
I took a step closer, just enough to loom slightly, enough to push her without forcing it. "I'm sorry," I said, but I wasn't.
She squeezed her eyes shut, a sharp exhale leaving her lips. Then she turned back to me, her expression a battlefield of emotions—grief, suspicion, denial. "How?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
I let out a slow breath, playing up the hesitation, like it was hard for me to say. "Helgen. I was there when the dragon attacked. Ralof and I,,, we tried to get out together."
Her hands trembled, barely noticeable, but I saw it.
"He was moving ahead, leading us. But there was fire everywhere, collapsing buildings…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "I lost sight of him in the chaos. And when I got out, he wasn't there. I waited, but… he never came."
Gerdur's breath hitched, her fingers gripping the wooden railing. She was trying to hold herself together, but the cracks were spreading.
"No," She muttered again, though this time it was weaker. Less certain.
I reached out, not quite touching her, but close enough for her to feel the presence of my hand. "I wish I had better news. But he's gone, Gerdur."
Her jaw clenched, her nails digging into her own arms as she hugged herself tighter. A single tear welled in the corner of her eye, but she blinked it away before it could fall.
But more formed, now in both, she tilted her head up, not letting them fall, I stepped closer, my eyes staring into her watery ones, I let my act rest I didn't need it anymore.
I pulled her into an embrace, and she protested, albeit weakly, as she tried to pull herself away. "Wha-" She was cut off when I placed my hand over her head, pressing it closer to my chest.
I leaned in slightly, "I can't hear you over the river," I said, signaling her to let loose of her emotions. She paused for a moment, as the river's rush filled her ears, and she slowly buried her face in my chest.
Sob~
Sob~
She clung to me now, the dam of her emotions finally broken. Her frame shook with every stifled breath, her voice raw from grief and restraint. I didn't speak. I didn't need to. I just held her—firm, warm.
I could feel her heartbeat pounding against my chest, fast and erratic, like a caged bird slamming against its prison.
But slowly, it calmed.
Her breathing steadied, the tension in her shoulders lessened. Her sobs faded into silence, her forehead resting against the fabric of my shirt. I said nothing, letting her lean into me.
After a long while, she pulled back—not fully, just enough to see my face. Her eyes were red, her lashes wet, her cheeks flushed in the fading light.
"Sorry," she whispered, voice hoarse. "That… wasn't how I planned to spend my day."
I offered a faint smirk, softened by sympathy. "No one ever plans for grief."
She gave me a small, broken chuckle at that, shaking her head. "Stubborn bastard. He always thought he was invincible. Thought… he could change the world."
Her voice cracked at the end. I gently placed my hand on her back. "He fought for what he believed in. That's more than most." I said, God, I wanna vomit.
She nodded slowly, slipping from my grasp, standing a step back, she turned her head to the river slowly. "Thank you. For telling me. For being here."
Her words weren't light—they were heavy with sincerity. With trust. That was all I needed.
"I am kind to those who are to me," I said.
She turned her head away from the river and glanced at me. "You didn't owe him anything… and yet you came all this way to tell me. That matters."
Silence settled, if not for the river's currents.
"If you've got no place to go," she said suddenly, her voice still quiet, "there's a spare bed at my house. It's not much, but it's warm. And you look like you could use the rest."
I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow. "Inviting a stranger in after all that? Dangerous move."
She gave me a weak smile. "Maybe. But I don't think you're dangerous. And if I'm wrong…" She met my eyes. "I've got an axe under the bed."
I chuckled, stepping forward, closing the gap, brushing a thumb under her eye, wiping away the streak she missed.
I leaned in, my chin hovering over her shoulder, my lips whispering to her ear. "I'll rid of the axe first then," I said, a sadistic smile forming on my face. Fortunately, she couldn't see my face.
She turned away quickly, hiding a smile.
***
200 Stones or 5 reviews and you get 1 extra chapter.
****
Read +3 or +7 chapters ahead on my Pat*eon
First_Endless
********