Finished with that commission, Eryka turned to me and did a double take. "What's wrong? You've gone pale as wax and you look like you just lost your last friend."

Not quite, I thought. Not yet. "I was just in the privy. I fear something I ate didn't agree with me." I improvised. "Give me a moment and some fresh air, and I'll recover." I sat down heavily against a carved wooden pillar.

"Balls," she said succinctly. "At least to the first part. You and I've eaten the same things for days now, and I know the difference between shock and illness. Besides, you're a healer and you could have done something about it. What happened?"

"I can't tell you." I tried, putting a hand up and rubbing my forehead.

"Now I know I need to know. Come on, up with you. You said you wanted fresh air and a moment to recover, and you're going to get them. Then we'll talk." She led me as one might an invalid of uncertain strength, walking me up a short flight of stairs out onto a balcony which was easily the same size as the Great Hall. I said as much as we passed men-at-arms honing their skills.

"It was built to house a captive dragon. His name was Numinex, and that was his skull hanging over the Jarl's throne," she explained.

"Amazing view," I said as we reached the far end, because it was. You could see for miles, over the fields and plains to the hills beyond.

"So it is," Eryka agreed. "Sit down, all right?"

Out here at the end was a trestle table and chairs there; it was laid with a platter of cold sliced meats and cheeses, with fruit, bread and wine close at hand. "Won't someone mind?" I asked first.

She slipped into a seat. "I'm a Thane of Whiterun Hold, and have the freedom of the castle and the right to board at the Jarl's table, not to mention the responsibility of helping maintain the bridges and roads. Plus if I'm ever taken as a prisoner of war, my ransom is set at twelve thousand septims. At least it was during the Great War. The price of a Thane's ransome may have gone up or down since then."

Since none of the guards was hurrying over to stop me, I took a seat across from her. "Where does 'Thane' sit in the hierarchy?" I asked. Anything to not discuss why I was upset.

"Above a knight, below a lord," she explained, pouring wine into one goblet and then another, sliding one in my direction.

"I see." Conversation, conversation, anything... I sipped wine. Those eyebrows said she was about to launch into questioning. "I know I asked why you bother with weaponry when you have magic, but I don't think I asked why you bother with magic when you know your way around a blade?" I pasted something like a charming grin on my face, but I fear it was more of a rictus.

Eryka smiled a little at that. "To put it plainly, as an archer, I am crap. Swordplay, how to use axes, maces, shielding and blocking, all that I learned fast enough, but my archery defies all help. I'm a little near-sighted, that's the problem. You're clear as day, but halfway down the porch things turn fuzzy, and the doors back indoors are no more than a rumor to my eyes."

"Oh. I'm sure there must be a connection being bad at archery and needing magic that I'm not seeing. Don't people usually specialize?" I asked.

"I haven't got time to specialize right now. I have to be out there doing things. The connection hasn't got so much to do with magic, but it does have quite a lot to do with fighting dragons. They like to fight on the wing. Mind you, I've tried talking them into landing so I can slaughter them properly, but as I've said, I have little luck in getting them to listen. I tried bow and arrow for a while, as I said...You wouldn't think it would be possible to miss a target the size of a dragon, but I assure you, it is. I needed some sort of missile, so I picked up a few spellbooks, and luckily for me, I've much better aim with a fireball or an ice spike. There you have it."

I laughed, and this time I did not need to force anything. "Forced into magecraft by poor aim. I see. That's a unique reason."

"That's better," Eryka said. "You look less like you're dying now. Oh, here. Adept destruction robes." She passed me a bundle of orange and brown fabric, and I felt the enchantments without even having to put the robes on. They were made to collect magicka and funnel it into the wearer.

"These must have been expensive." I said, my voice sounding tentative and hollow in my own ears. If simple novice robes had been fifteen hundred septims, how much more were adept robes? Twice as much? Four times as much?

"You worry too much," she waved off my concern. "Believe me, I am not a septim out of pocket for these. I came away with all but four septims of Farengar's ready money, once all was said and done. If it makes you feel better, this counts as upgrading your equipment. They belong to me, and I'm just lending them to you."

"It doesn't," I pushed the robes back toward her. "I'm sorry, but you chose the wrong companion when you chose me. I can't—It's not that I don't like you, because I do. That's the problem. I might be more of a danger to you than anything you might face. I—had better lose myself somewhere in Skyrim and make sure our paths do not cross again. I will make good for what I owe you, somehow. I'll send it to you at Breezehome. I truly do regret this, but—I can see no other way."

Her brows drew together in the middle like a gathering thunderstorm, and she bit at her lower lip. "You are a piece of work, Anders of Thedas, and no mistake. All right. What did happen to you in the quarter candle mark you were gone? Because that's where this has to have come from."

"I can't tell you—."

"Look, we made a verbal agreement last night, and you took my coin and shook my hand. You're in my employ until I choose to release you, and if you won't live up to your part, well, the Jarl is holding court downstairs. You can explain to me or you can explain to him; it's up to you. I'll go easier on you." She sat back and raised an eyebrow at me, crossing her arms over her chest. (Which pushed her breasts together in a very interesting fashion, not that I was in a frame of mind to appreciate the view.) It also freed up a pendant she was wearing, a coppery flower set with a pink opal which popped out of her cleavage.

I considered the options, and my resolve weakened. I later learned that the necklace Eryka had on was at least partly to blame, as it was an amulet of Dibella and enhanced a person's charm as an amulet of Zenithar did one's ability to bargain. Not that she really needed any enhancement.

"Mephala…it said it was Mephala," I began, describing the encounter but leaving out the suggestion that I should bed her or fall for her.

"Thank you for not killing me out of hand," she said, when I finished. "I do mean that. It would hardly do for you to bring your people here only to be roasted and eaten by dragons because I'm the only one who can kill them properly and I'd already be dead."

"…That consideration had not crossed my mind," I confessed.

"Also, you have to consider the source." Eryka glanced away, remembering. "Making offers like this, that's what the Daedric Princes do. Peryite, the Prince of Pestilence and of tasks you really don't want to do, wanted me to go and kill His champion for straying from His path, which means spreading horrible plagues and incurable diseases. Only to do it, I'd have to get through probably a hundred or more of His followers, which would mean killing them too, people who never did me any harm and who were sick and in pain as well. In return, He'd make me his champion and give me some trinket or other. That's why it's so dangerous to worship or deal with Daedra—Peryite cares no more for His people than something you'd wipe off your boot. He'd wipe me off with no more thought once He got bored with me, I'm sure."

"I suppose…I suppose it doesn't help that Mephala announced he, she, or it was the Prince of Lies and Betrayal," I considered, my dark mood beginning to dissipate. "One would have to be a fool to trust any promises he made."

"I'm sure she'd do her best to cheat you somehow even as she gave you what you wanted, but there are rules. The terms of the offer must be adhered to, even though it's not honored in spirit. Listen very carefully when one of them offers something. Look, that was only the first offer, and it follows that you'll get others." Eryka rubbed at her brow.

"Which is why it is for the best that we part ways," I pointed out.

"Not on your life, or more precisely, not on mine. If you're going to turn into a crazed assassin out to get me, I want you where I can keep an eye on you," she said acerbically. "Anders—if you will stick with me, if you will see my business through to the end, when the dragons are no longer a threat to Skyrim, then in turn I will work and not stop until your people are here and free. This I promise, and I will swear it on all three shrines here in Whiterun. Your cause will be my cause. I do not believe that only Mephala has the secret to opening the way, and what the Daedra can do, the Divines can do as well. With any luck, we'll come out of it with several gods owing us favors, and that can be when we collect."

Her face was clear and honest and glowing with sincerity. I looked at her, and something soft deep inside me wrenched painfully. For that promise alone I could have loved her, and I realized if I did, if I let myself—it wouldn't matter if I lost my hair or if she put on weight. It would be more than just bedsport, more than the urges of our bodies. At the same time, I was also angry, angry because all the other options were disappearing. I would never simultaneously seduce an Orlesian countess and her sister in a gondola on a summer night, I would never rescue a beautiful Tevinter slave-dancer and live on an island where we never wore anything, I would never be rescued by a wild warrior princess who lavished me with expensive clothes and—actually, that one was coming true, wasn't it?

I took a deep breath. "That's a very generous offer, and I may forever regret asking this, especially since it's a reprisal of last night, but—why? Why bother? Why are you being so nice?"

She was quiet for a long, tense moment. "Because I suffer under the burden of a human heart coupled with a dragon soul. Because most days the most dangerous dragon I battle is right here," she touched her chest. "Dragons are not known for helping one another—quite the contrary, in fact. To counter the impulses of the dragon, I help people. Whoever asks for help, I give it to them. When I see someone in need of help, I do what I can. While I can still feel the warmth of compassion, while I can still feel empathy, then I know I'm winning the war."

Maker's breath. I was in trouble now…

I was in love.