Ooh, chapter two! Thanks to everyone for reading so far. I'm a little stuck on Kayla's story, hence why I'm doing this one to keep the juices flowing.
Mirocu: Thank you!
SubRosa: Thanks for the heads up on the nits. I saw a few more that neither of us caught. As for their relationship, Alda is a lesbian, and Samara sees her as a friend. She doesn't know she's a lesbian, though. So she is technically a milk-drinker XD
DE: I really wanted to do a Cyrodiil-based fic, and wasn't confident enough back when it first came out to do one (and didn't know what fanfic even was at that point) but I figure, if people can carry on years of writing a fic over and over, I can just start a new one, right?"
Rohirrim: Naked babes is always a good thing. ALWAYS.
KoB: You already know Samara, lol. Alda is new for you.
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The next night, Samara didn't even other showing up to the Guild meeting. Instead, she let Alda have the diary and she went for a walk. She put on thick boots and her thick dark cloak, her woolen bedclothes beneath her regular clothes. She had lifted a somewhat worn dress from the closet of a young noble girl a while ago, and it fit her alright, if not a bit loose in the hips and tight in the chest. She wandered, seemingly aimlessly around the Talos District, her hands behind her back. When someone would pass by, she'd look at their style of clothing and, if it was fancy enough, she'd bump into them, and while she apologized, reach into their pockets and swipe their money.
When she felt her pockets weigh down with coins and notes, she decided to head back. if she didn't, Alda would start cooking, and Samara didn't feel like putting river water in her stew again to dull the taste of salt. The moons were up still, and Samara looked at them for a minute longer.
"Lovely night."
She jumped to see a man dressed in rich, warm robes. She guessed his hair was a brown, and his hazel eyes held a strange light in them. She gazed into them, her mind blank.
"Uhm-"
"What's a lovely young lady like you doing out on a cold night like this?" His accent was soft and melodic, floating into Samara's ears like leaves on the wind. She murmured a non-commital response as she pulled her gaze away from his and looked around. The streets were empty, and she realized that she might be in danger. Something in her gut tugged, begging her to walk away that instant.
"I'm sorry, I need-"
"To come inside for a warm drink? I agree."
Samara pulled her arm away, and the man looked confused.
"No, I need to go. I have a friend waiting for me."
"How are you resisting?!"
"I pulled my arm away and said no, as is my right as a woman. Get away from me, you freak!" Samara shrieked when he grabbed the front of her shirt, the sound muffled by his hand on her mouth. The man let out a loud bellow of pain when she kneed his groin, then fell backwards as she elbowed him in the nose. She left him sprawled on the ground and bolted, using the shadows to her advantage. She didn't stop running until she reahed her house in the Waterfront, slamming the door and locking it with shaky hands.
She curled up on the bed, her breathing not slowing for a while. She looked around the small shack, looking for possible weapons in case he followed her. Oh gods, what if he saw her again and called the guards on her? She didn't even steal from him, she was just looking at the moons...
The door rattled, and her heart nearly thudded out of her chest. She heard an angry voice on the other side.
"Samara! Open up! I don't have my key with me!"
Samara sighed in relief and stood up. She rolled her shoulders around and unlocked the door, letting an irritated Alda in.
"What in Oblivion makes you think it's okay to-what's wrong?!"
Samara's eyes had been slowly filling up with tears, but when Alda asked the question, the dam broke. Alda staggered a bit at the force that the smaller woman hugged her, her face surprised.
"Shhh, it's okay, I'm sorry! I'm not really mad at you, you know that." She soothingly stroked Samara's hair. Samara laughed weakly, the sound mingling with her sobbing and coming out as a snort. Alda made a face but kept it hidden.
"It's not that. I was in the Talos District, picking pockets, and this man came up to me. I didn't even pick his pocket, and he tried to yank me inside his house. I think he was gonna rape me!"
"Nobody wants to rape you, Samara. They'd kick you out five seconds after you started making demands on how to make things good for you." Alda half-heartedly joked, a look of pure worry on her face. She took Samara's face in her hands and cupped her chin gently, making her look into her eyes.
"Stay inside for the next few nights. I got the job at the Guild, so don't worry about anything for a few days, okay?" A thought struck her. "How'd you get away?"
"I kneed him in the groin as hard as I could, then elbowed him."
Alda laughed loudly and hugged Samara tightly. "That's my girl. That's my girl."
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Samara let Alda cook, which always put the raven-haired Nord in a good mood. She chattered excitedly about the Guild, and how she was setting about trying to fence some stolen goods. When she produced a bottle of wine, Samara squealed in delight.
"Oh my gods, where did you get this?!" Samara cradled the vintage bottle of Surilie Brother's in her hands gently. "We can't drink this!"
"Samara, we're not rich folk. We don't keep bottles of wine around for fun, we drink them." She made a show of pulling the cork off, with some effort, and pouring it into a wooden cup and handing it to Samara. A smile spread on the redhead's face as she took a sip. Her eyes rolled back into her head in salacious pleasure when the wine touched her tongue.
"Ohhh...oh my gods, this is so good. Where'd you find this?!"
"Earl of Imbel's house. I guess I must have been there after you were in the district."
Samara shrugged and downed the rest of the wine. She held her cup out, and Alda laughed.
"Greedy, I haven't even had any!"
"That's because you're slow." She made a sound of protest when Alda poured herself a glass instead of Samara. Alda smiled at the redhead over the wooden cup, and Samara smiled back, grabbing the bottle for herself.
"So, you're not mad about me stealing the diary yesterday?" Samara drank half of her wine and set it aside. The drink spread a delicious warmth from her belly and settled there. She crossed her legs on the bed and rested her elbows on her knees, and rested her chin in her hands, looking at the other woman.
"Not at all. I probably would've messed it up. You're lucky you're small and quick."
"I guess. What did you tell them?"
"Who, the Guild? I told them I stole it from another thief. Methredhel was pissed!" Alda laughed, and Samara joined her. The warmth had spread to her limbs quickly, and made her notice things she usually didn't. The firelight made Alda's creamy skin glow with warmth, and danced in her eyes. Alda smiled behind her cup.
"You're staring at me."
"Sorry. You're pretty in the firelight. You're pretty always. I'm jealous."
Alda frowned. "Of what?"
"Your skin is so pretty, and you're so tall!"
"My feet are huge, and so is my nose. I have man-hands." Alda laughed.
"You do not! Your long fingers look like a lute player's fingers." Samara grabbed Alda's hand and held her own hand palm-to palm. "Look at how short and chubby my fingers are."
Alda's fingers intertwined with Samara's, grasping them firmly. "They're perfect."
Samara smiled and patted Alda's hand. "Thanks. You're too nice." She let go of Alda's hand and grabbed her cup and drained the rest of the wine. Alda sighed and grabbed the bottle and began drinking straight from it.
"Hey!" Samara tried to yank the bottle away from her. "Greedy!"
"You've had TWO glasses, and it takes more than just one bottle of expensive wine to make a Nord warm!" She held the smaller woman away by the forehead while she drank the bottle's contents. Samara huffed and tossed her cup at Alda, hitting the side of her temple.
"OW!"
"That's what you get! I'm sorry!" Samara yelped when Alda grabbed her by the arm and flung her onto the bed. She blinked in half-confusion when she hit the bed.
"Whoa, I'm dizzy. Stop for a moment." Alda let her go, and Samara lay on the bed, catching her breath. "That wine works fast."
"You're a lightweight."
"I'm a Breton."
"That's still up for debate, honey."
"It's what I'm going with for now." Samara sat up, her brow furrowed.
"You ever gonna look? You're old enough now." Alda sat next to her. "You could go ask for the records, steal the money they ask for, no problem."
Samara leaned her head on Alda's shoulder. "I don't know. Do they give reasons for adoptions? Like 'Abandoned,' or 'Deceased parents' or something?"
"I don't know. You could ask?"
Samara sighed and glanced over at the fire. "I might. But what if they just didn't want me?"
"Then they're missing out. You're great." Alda smiled down at her, but Samara was looking at the dirtied floor of their shack. She absently bit her lip, frowning.
"What time is it?" She asked Alda. Alda made an uncertain "Uhhh..." and opened the door, looking at the moons.
"A bit past midnight. Why?"
Samara shivered when the breeze hit her. Alda promptly shut the door.
"I'm going to find out who gave me up. " She put on her thick cape. Alda put a hand on her arm gently.
"I'm coming with you, love."