But I'm a Black-Briar! (A Skyrim Fan Fiction)

Chapter 32: A Moment of Calm

I did wake up. That wasn't very surprising, but it was surprising that when I opened my eyes groggily and glanced uncomprehendingly around the cave, Jiran was still fast asleep. Aside from when it had been my turn to keep watch in the morning before we packed up camp and I had to wake him up, Jiran had always woken up before me. Come to think of it, I suspected that many of the times during which I had thought I was rousing him from slumber, he had actually already been wide awake.

Now, however, he was definitely asleep. His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm that didn't change in the slightest as I sat up, gingerly drawing my sprained ankle toward me. Gently wiggling my boot off, I glared at the swollen limb, then took my other boot off as well and washed them in the brook. Sand and dust trailed from them to form brown clouds in the water, then disappeared as the current ushered the spots away.

When the water left the boots clean, I set them down beside the brook to dry and stood up carefully, placing a bit of weight on my right leg. My ankle still ached dully and I could hardly bend it at all on account of the swelling, but I could limp on it well enough.

This I did across the cave to Ilinalta, who was standing just inside the entrance of the cave with her head down almost to her knees, eyes blinking sleepily at me. As I rubbed her head and looked outside, I realized why. It was raining hard enough to turn the entrance to the cave into a rushing waterfall that luckily ran downhill away from the cave toward the river, leaving the ground within dry.

Sighing, I glanced down at my riding pants. Not only were they still damp from my near submersion yesterday, but they were now also stained with little flecks of mud where the miniature falls had splashed into the ground as I stood gawking at the downpour.

A quick glance over Ilinalta's back told me Jiran was still asleep, so I retrieved another set of clothes from the saddlebags and changed behind Ilinalta as quickly as my ankle would allow. What do I do now? I wondered. My stomach answered me with a loud growl that made me jump and glance at Jiran to see if he'd awoken.

Jiran always cooks, I realized. Everything had always been prepared for me, now that I thought about it. Dedicated cooks had painstakingly prepared the meals I had so carelessly consumed at Black-Briar Lodge. Jiran had always cooked on the road.

Maybe it was my turn. Crossing the cave to Sable, I rifled through his saddlebags and found the cooking pot, a long wooden spoon, some potatoes, salt, chunks of dried meat, and slightly wilted but still edible cabbage. I wasn't sure what animal the meat had previously had the pleasure of cavorting as, but it would do well enough.

Filling the pot with water and setting it up over the fire, I placed a few more logs on the flames and waited for the water to start boiling, then added the meat. I remembered that meat took longer to cook than potatoes and vegetables, so I'd add those later. Chopping the potatoes turned out to be the largest challenge. Glancing furtively at Jiran, I unsheathed a glass dagger and used the blade to slice the potatoes, then tossed them into the pot quickly. I didn't know what he'd think of me using the expensive little blades for chopping food.

Wiping the blade down thoroughly, I sat beside the fire, turning the shining glass over in my hands as I had so many times before. I'd been carrying these daggers for nearly a month now, but were they mine? If for some reason I took Ilinalta and went off on my own today, now, would Jiran let me take the blades with me or would he want them back?

"What are you thinking about?" That very person's voice intruded upon my thoughts.

I jumped, trying not to look guilty. "When did you wake up?" I asked accusingly as Jiran sat up, inspecting the bruised skin on the back of his hand.