She had never expected to fall for him. After all, he had simply stood before her while her knees had hit the ground and her head rested against the blood stained wooden block, watching as the headman raised his giant axe. And he had done nothing. But then that dragon swooped down out of nowhere, and somehow she ended up in the keep with him instead of the blonde-haired Nord, and then the rest was history. Racing through the undergrounds of Helgen, fighting those god-damn spiders and that dratted bear, and somehow making it out alive and (relatively) unscathed.
Staring at him moving quietly around the room from the warmth of their bed, Aewyn couldn’t help but give a small chuckle at how everything has turned out. She had dreamed of this when she was a small girl - a strong husband, a cosy house to call their own, and perhaps later on (much, much later on, Skyrim is far too dangerous these days) even children. Even if the current situation wasn’t exactly what she had imagined (somehow, even her fanciful imagination when she was eight didn’t quite manage to predict the whole Dragonborn business, or the Civil War, or joining the Imperial Legion and killing people) it was still good enough for her.
“What are you laughing at?” Hadvar’s soft voice cut through her thoughts. She smiled at his half-naked form kneeling next to the fireplace and nestled deeper into the warmth of the blankets. She never told him how much she loved his voice (it was slightly embarrassing, to tell the truth).
“Nothing really,” she replied. “Just thinking about how I didn’t quite picture my life turning out this way when I was a child.” He raised an eyebrow at this and placed the last log onto the blaze, pushing himself up and walking back over to their bed. He made a small shooing gesture, clearly indicating that he wanted to get back into bed. It was warm, and he was asking her to move again? No way.
Aewyn pouted and tucked the blankets around her tighter, saying firmly in his spot. He simply shook his head, the words ‘Really, Wyn?’ unsaid but written clearly on his slightly amused face. In a moment of real maturity, she stuck her tongue out at him. He stopped, sighed and rolled his eyes.
“You asked for it,” was her only warning before he scooped her up, blankets and all, and headed towards the door. She squealed and and thrashed about, giggling through her attempts to escape his iron grip. He stopped right beside the door, and looked down at her, half lost in the mass of furs and blankets.
“Now, you have two choices,” he said solemnly. “One: I put you outside and go back to bed with the blankets, and refuse to let you back in until the morning. Or two: I can go back to bed with both the blankets and my wife. Your choice.”
“It’s a tough choice…” Aewyn contemplated with with mock indecision, before giggling and wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning upwards to give him a small peck on his lips. “But I think I’ll have to go with option two.”
“Good choice,” he chuckled before heading back towards the bed.
They settled back down again on the now cooled mattress, his body curving instinctively around hers as she snuggled back against his chest with a contented sigh.
No, she hadn’t expected to fall for him. She hadn’t expected any of it.
But she wouldn’t have wished it any other way.