~~i don’t care if i lose my mind, i’m already cursed~~

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There was nothing in her trunk of dresses that she wanted to wear. It was far too cold in Skyrim for her favorite blue dress, she could have paired it with a cloak, but it was so bulky and heavy she would get tired before she even made it to the market. The pink dress was thicker, but it would only get dirty in Solitude’s market. There was absolutely nothing in her trunk that was suitable for investigating the market of Skyrim’s freezing capitol. She knew of course why she was there. Adrielle may not have been the brightest member of the Mede family, but being sent to the frozen tundra of nothing that was Skyrim to help one of her grandfather’s cousins whom she had never met plan her wedding was the most ridiculous disguise that Adrielle had ever heard. Her grandfather had every intention that his grandaughter would marry one of Skyrim's nobles and strengthen ties with the Nord’s homeland. She had yet to find anyone who held her interest of course. She just wanted to help Vittoria get married then be back home in the Imperial City. She missed Attrebus and Thowen and the Cyrodiil and she just wanted to go home. She had written her older brother seventeen times that week begging that he speak to their Grandfather on her behalf, but he had never been as easily swayed by Att has he had been Adrielle.

Frustrated with the lack of appropriate attire in her own trunk she slammed the lid shut and searched the closet in her little room to find something. The clothing options of Skyrim were no where near as lovely as those of Cyrodiil. They were all fur an heavy and drab. Either Nords were color blind or they were frightened by style. Green and brown should not be worn together. Brown was hardly attractive enough to be called a color at all. The only good thing about brown was that it did not show dirt on the hem as well as other colors. She sighed as she picked out one of the drab outfits. It was awful with fur on top randomly and a belt that did really nothing other than look nice. She tugged on a pair of boots and the awful excuse of clothing and then paused to adjust her hair over the large fur collar. Who in their right mind found this type of clothing attractive? She felt like she were wearing a bear pelt. Though she supposed the collar may very well have been bear. Ugh. What a fantastic start to her day. Now she was going to leave the Vicci house and go out amongst the Nords. She thought her day was already at rock bottom, but it could only possibly get worse.

It was a nice enough day. Cold of course, but it was Skyrim. There was nothing except for cold weather there. The sky was clear and the sun was out. The birds flew from one building to another, chirping loudly as they flitted about. Their shadows on the pavement made her think of dragons for some reason. She had heard the rumors as had everyone else, about Dragons returning to Skyrim. It was an exciting thought. The old Emperors were said to be dragonborn. She liked stories of dragons, because many of the dragon tales involved princesses being rescued by their prince. She doubted that real dragons kidnapped princesses to hide them in towers waiting for a prince to rescue them, but she could hope couldn’t she? Then Att would come to Skyrim to visit her and fight dragons and rescue a girl and they would be happy together, and she would have a sister. Of course if he did find a princess in a tower being held captive by a dragon, she would probably be a Nord. She supposed that would be fine. Then she would have less pressure to marry a Skyrim native. Though she could not imagine their grandfather would approve of the future emperors of Skyrim being half Nord. It was probably for the best that Att did not rescue a princess in Skyrim. She would have to write and tell him to stay in the Imperial City no matter how he would be tempted to come fight the dragons.

She was startled from her imagination when she found herself running directly into someone larger than she was. It was hardly difficult to be larger than the young Imperial girl. She stumbled back a step, and for the first time in a long time did not worry about getting her dress dirty. It was a terrible monstrosity of fabric as it was. However, the god and ruby circlet that was her constant accessory was knocked askew as she fell back. ”Watch It!” She snapped up at the offending person, straightening her circlet. ”You need to pay more attention. You could hurt someone.”She was completely ignoring the fact that it was she who had not been paying attention. But in the life of Adrielle Mede, the fault always rested with someone else. She was faultless, and they were in her way. Such a transgression on her personal space would not be tolerated.

~~word count - 879. tag - open . outfit - click .~~

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Riften was a lucrative city, but every once in a while Brynjolf found himself in a new setting altogether.

There were perks to being the second-in-command. For one thing it gave the man a considerable amount of freedom over his own free time; for another, it was much easier to convince Mercer to let him go out on these little cross-country ventures. Sometimes a man just needed his fresh air...which, for a seasoned thief, meant a visit to a different city altogether.

He wasn't going to be taking in the sights, no, but what better place to exercise his skills than the capital of Skyrim itself? The promise of extracting gold from an unwary crowd was the only leverage Brynjolf had been able to use against his boss (Mercer didn't like it when the redhead left, because then there was no one else to interact with the rest of the guild), especially considering how little influence they had in Solitude. While the Nord was here he was going to scam, pickpocket, and rob his criminal heart out- and, once the people started to catch on he'd skip back home and unload his loot on the guild. Divines knew they could use it.

Thankfully Brynjolf was wealthy enough to afford one of the nicer rooms in the inn- he'd come to enjoy the comforts of life, and he wasn't sure he wanted to spend however long this vacation was going to be in anything but a suite. His armor stayed packed away at the bottom of his trunk while his finer clothes got hung up in the wardrobe. The food here was good, the drink was good, and everyone looked like they had an abundance of coin. Brynjolf had chosen the right city.

He didn't venture into his new, temporary territory until well into the next day (the Nord hadn't gotten to sleep in for a very, very long time), and when he did he was dressed to the nines. He wasn't much of a fur fan himself (it was too rustic for his tastes) and had draped himself in a full-sleeved white shirt and dark breeches. His overrobe was pale blue and the perfect hue to bring out the color in his eyes. That was the key to distracting the customers, after all. Making them pay attention to something besides where your hands were.

Today was reserved for scouting the market, and the sharp-eyed thief missed nothing. He particularly didn't miss the young woman meandering in his direction, nor the distant look on her face that all but screamed I'm not paying attention to the world right now at all. When it became clear that Adrielle was going to run right into him, Brynjolf made a point to keep his ground.

Her crash and subsequent stumble backwards confirmed the thief's suspicions; this young woman was no commoner, which meant that she was now very interesting. He swept a polite smile onto his face as she glared at him, spewing spoiled poison from her lips, and offered her an apologetic bow.

"My apologies, lass." He purred, putting no stops on the charm. "I would have moved out of your way, but I suddenly found myself rooted to the spot the moment you came into view. Are you alright?"


(Echo apologizes for this travesty of a post, the Cbox was distracting. -blames Ankh entirely-)

~~i don’t care if i lose my mind, i’m already cursed~~

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She wanted to stay cross with the man. She really did. But Adrielle found that the moment the stranger called her lass that she could not. Immediately all was forgiven. How could she not? His voice would have won over a dragon if he had tried, she imagined. She raised one hand to her side to call off the guard who seemed nervous with a strange man talking to the emperor's granddaughter. She supposed his nervous was with a good reason. She doubted he would advance very far in the legion if he let the only member of the royal family in Skyrim get hurt. she did not blame him for being nervous. Clearly, the guard had not heard this man's voice. There was no way that he was going to hurt her. He called her lass. That was a term of endearment, right? Nords were a particularly strange brand of creatures. Tall as orsimer, but aside from their great height there was not much physical difference between an Imperial and their northern brethren. But their desire to live in cold places and call strange young women lass was beyond her.

The man called her lass, and she supposed it was a compliment on her appearance. She decided to take it that way at any rate. Adrielle did like being told how pretty she was. She doubted there was a girl in Skryim who would not like a complement from this stranger. Gathering her skirt between her fingers she gave a half curtsy "Forgive me for being so blunt previously. She apologized. "I am uninjured, and it is an easy mistake to make." She trusted that it would not happen again. Maybe she should have paid him more attention. Or paid more attention to her surroundings. She would really have the former. "I am Adrielle" She said, purposefully omitting her surname. Members of the Mede family could spark tensions one way or another, and the moment anyone knew you were related to the emperor things changed. She did not want them to change. She wanted him to call her lass again.

"If you find yourself un-rooted, you may walk with me." She made sure that her permission was given loud enough for the skittish guard to hear. The man seemed alright in her books. Adrielle had always been a very trusting young woman. There was something she liked about this man, more than just his voice. It had to be more than his voice. She was not that shallow. She took a few steps glancing over her shoulder to see if he followed her. The young imperial was not used to being ignored, though she was more adjusted to the Imperial City where everyone knew exactly who she was than Skryim where she was just another Imperial amongst the capitol's wealthier crowd.

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~~word count - 472. tag - open . outfit - click .~~

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