In Over His Head

Yagaritte huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes at her satchel, where her arms were currently buried. Her fingers were reaching for, but not finding, the little bundle of medicinal herbs they were after. A silken strand of strawberry blonde hair, an accidental leaf sticking out of it, fell from her messy bun. She huffed again and pushed it from her face with a puff of air, ignoring the stowaway leaf. She stood, crossing her arms at her chest and staring down, with disdain, at her useless satchel. The medicine was there, she knew it. She had snuck it out of a cavern crawling with winter wolves herself. She had come out unscathed, but the same could not be said for one or two wolves who'd had the misfortune of crossing her path. She kicked it with her booted foot.

"Miss? Have you got the herbs or not?" A fidgeting tradesman asked, looking up at her.

To say Yagaritte was "tall", was like saying mountains are "big"..or the ocean is "deep". It was a true enough statement, but didn't really cover the scope of what you were trying to convey. She was very close to the limit that people would actually believe their eyes and not question their sanity when they first saw her. She actually lived on a frozen island filled with people the rest of the world thought of as giants, but even those giants looked up at her.

She was also well aware that most people, especially men, found her somewhat intimidating. She squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest, a silent warning that perhaps the shopkeep ought to watch his tone. She had the herbs for him, that was the end of the story, and he needn't question her as though she were some invalid child who couldn't accomplish a task as simple as securing a bundle of sticks from a cavern.

The tradesman backed away some, hunching his shoulders down. "I... I... well, please keep looking..." he stuttered, looking over at a gentleman in the corner, and at another, who was by the window looking at a stack of worn Magicka books on a table there. The shopkeeper's eyes seemed to be silently pleading to both of them to protect him if this giant woman decided she didn't want to deal with him any longer.

Yagaritte chuckled nervously . "Worry not, I have your herbs," she said.

Her intimidating looks were deceiving, in a way, as her voice was soft and full, warm and inviting. The tradesman nodded, still eyeing the other patrons carefully.

The young man by the dusty pile of books, who had, up until this point, been surreptitiously pretending he was alone in the room, glanced back at the tradesman, and then toward the looming woman. A small wispy globe of soft luminescence hovered a few inches from his face affording him just enough illumination to decipher the strange runes he had been poring over the last 10 minutes or so, but the moment she had laughed so loud and clear the minor glamour had poofed with a slight crackling sound. Who WAS that? Her voice was so rich and full, It conjured images of valkyries and feast halls, of warm furs around crackling fires. And her laugh..it was deep and hearty and honest. It was so infectious that he had almost wanted to join in, but had stifled himself at the last moment as the last thing he wanted was to draw anyone's attention. She certainly had his though.

He had never seen anyone like her in his life. He swallowed nervously. She was paying him no mind, of course, but the fact that there was such a beautiful woman in his presence was enough to get him sweating. He quickly jerked his head back to the table, and picked up a different book at random, burying his face between two pages, willing his heart to slow to a normal pace, because he was sure everybody in the vicinity could hear it.

Yagaritte bent to grab her satchel, and snatched it up, swinging it over her shoulder. She gently brushed passed the tradesman, and made her way directly for the young man at the table of books. She stopped right next to him, and grabbed a enormous stack of books, half as tall as the young man was, and with ease, she gingerly moved it to the floor. Room now on the table, she swung her satchel back of off her shoulder, and unceremoniously upended it over the table. The contents of her bag spilled everywhere. Some small bundles, coins, daggers, vials and other useless trinkets flew across the table, some onto the floor. But..search as she might, the little wrapped package of medicinal herbs was not plainly obvious.

The young wood elf beside her coughed nervously, his heart racing now again, at full speed. He was small even by Bosmer standards, and he was used to people looking down on him wherever he went. He had felt like a child when he first landed on this frozen island with these giants everywhere, but this woman, she was something else altogether. Even hunched over the table she towered over him, and she was standing so close to him the rather shapely curve of her leather clad hip was all but brushing the side of his shoulders. She looked down at him, as though seeing him for the first time. She smiled gently. At this close range, he could see that her clothes and armor were dusty, spattered here and there with fresh crimson blood. He hoped it was not hers. The twin daggers at her hips, were also encrusted in blood. That definitely wasn't hers, he thought, gulping silently. He furtively stole a glance upward at her as she was obliviously rifling through her things. Her eyes were a cool greenish blue, the color of the sweet waters off the Summerset Isles, if someone had bottled it in crystal and set it amongst diamonds. They sparkled in the dusty light streaming in through the window, and there was a familiar mischievous twinkle he knew all too well from his years in boarding school.

"P-p-pardon me ma'am" he finally managed to stammer, "I-- I c--can move if I'm in your way.."

Yagaritte chuckled gently as she looked down at him. It was a hearty sound, one that sounded right at home in her throat. She seemed to be someone who, when not trying to intimidate a tradesman, was easy to laugh. She reached a hand down to his face, her thumb out, but stopped when he flinched. She chuckled again, taking no offense to his reaction, for she was used to it. "You have some..." she trailed off, mimicking on her own face where the young man beside her had dusty smudges on his own.

He blushed deeply, ferociously. He threw the book he was holding away from himself and reached for his kerchief with trembling hands, embarrassed, nervous. He turned from her hastily, and rubbed his face with the piece of cloth, over and over. Yagaritte laughed heartily at this, not in jest, but with a joyful sound. Her whole chest was full of laughter. Everyone in the room seemed to breath a sigh of relief except the gentleman who had his back to her. No, indeed, his face seemed to get even redder still. At this, the tradesman took a step closer to them. "Miss, er... um.. I don't see the herbs..." he said carefully, looking at the mess she had made of his table, and his floor. Truthfully, the herbs were not there.

Yagaritte glanced at him, then again at the pile. "Indeed not," she conceded, sighing. She shook her head, grabbing her satchel and stuffing her things haphazardly back into it. "One moment, please..." she said, swinging the satchel across her sturdy shoulders and around her back.

Without another word, she went back out of the shop and disappeared down the grimy, muddy street. The tradesman started after her, but stopped at the door, shaking his head. He sighed. She would be back.

The young man stared at the door in bewilderment. The large storm of a woman had vanished as quickly as she had arrived. He wished all at once to see to see her again and to never cross paths with her in the future. It was all very confusing to him.The tradesman, at this point, took his position back behind the counter, willing business to get back to it as usual. The young man tucked the dirty kerchief back into his pocket, searched and found the book he had been originally studying from on the table. A few pages were missing, the rest were smeared and stained... with what, he did not want to know, but that was not important to him. Though he had but a few coins to his name, he knew the value of knowledge, and as small as this book was, it contained information he had yet to know. His sharp mind thirsted for new knowledge, even more than his stomach craved food. Though even as he held it, his rational brain reminded him he would regret this decision later tonight, when his stomach started to growl, hunger gnawing at his insides.

With the book tucked under his arm, the young gentleman approached the tradesman, who was leaning back in a chair, his feet propped up. The tradesman eyed him suspiciously. Though at first glance he was dressed as someone of a noble household, it did not take a very well- trained eye to see that he had not changed clothes for several weeks (months maybe?), and there were telltale signs of battle on his suit as well. A rip here, a scorch mark there. Must be another adventurer, he thought, though judging from the staff covered in runes and topped with a dark red glowing crystal slung across his back, he was more of the cerebral type.

"Can I help you?" the tradesman asked, though it came out in way that conveyed "you better have a way to pay for that book."

With the Nord woman gone, his usual disdainful personality was back with a vengeance.

The young man blushed again, feeling exposed under this man's gaze. He set the book on the counter and waited in silence. Normally, people would bargain, make deals, anything, to walk out with what they wanted, having spent as little money as possible. Not this man. The tradesman could tell he wasn't good at bargaining. He had no face for bluffing . And while he may be talented in many other facets, this was clearly not one of them. He reached into his outer pocket, fingers reaching for the meager number of coins he had there, tied up within his tiny coin purse. But he felt something different there, something bulkier than his coin purse, something with string wrapped tightly around it. His throat caught, and he looked down, holding his pocket wide. It was a little package, an odd shape, wrapped in cloth and tied up.

It was the medicinal herbs the Nord woman had been searching for. The little bundle must have fallen into his pocket without his knowledge, when she had dumped her bag on the table.

"I..." he stammered, his head snapping up to look at the tradesman, who didn't seem aware of the young man's discovery, and he was thankful for that. "I've lost my money," he said stupidly. And before the tradesman's sneer could turn into derisive words, the young man shot around him and ran for the door, tripping clumsily in his haste to reach for the handle.

Without another word, the second weirdest customer of the day was out in the street, trade ALSO incomplete. The tradesman looked at the only patron left in the shop, and prayed to Zenithar they wouldn't do the same.

* * * *

Yagaritte dropped her satchel on the cobblestones at her feet, looking up into the summer sun. Though it was indeed summer, there were still patches of snow on the ground and upon the roofs, water dripping from half melted icicles dangling from the eaves. She closed her eyes and warmed her face. It was not cold to her, not even in the slightest. Even though those around her rushed by in lush furs or tattered rags, huddled over to keep warm, she had only her armor and thin boots. She didn't even bother with her furs this time of year. In fact.. The sun was making her a bit warm. She unlaced her deer leather reinforced bodice and unbuttoned her shirt . There, that was better, she thought to herself. The "girls" were getting a bit cramped in there all day anyway. Yagaritte was not just tall for a nord woman, she was also bustier than most, curvier of hip than most, even narrower of waist then most. The Gods had been kind to her.. And then gotten drunk and decided to show off. Not that she thought so or that she even cared really. Though, she did know how to use it to her advantage when the situation called for it.

And sometimes even when it was just for fun!

She looked toward the west, where the sun was just starting to set. She sighed softly. She had already raided the caves once today, she did not fancy doing it again. She reached into her satchel and pulled a worn map out looking at it intently. There was another cave, slightly further, but perhaps with more abundant herbs, or maybe not so well guarded by winter wolves, she wondered, hopefully. She folded the map back neatly, and tucked it back into her bag. With the sun setting soon, she didn't want to travel so far, even with the chance that it could be an easier job this go 'round. And with that, it was decided, she would revisit the caverns from earlier in the day. But first, a snack.

Speaking of snacks...

Her thoughts strangely went back to the snacksize young man at the shop. Yagaritte didn't recall ever seeing a full adult man as small as he was. Why he barely came up to her...She flushed a bit at what she was thinking, which was a bit disconcerting for her because she didn't flush about anything. He had to be grown to have that much stubble on his chin, didn't he?. He was cute sure, but just so incredibly small. She recalled seeing that smudge of dirt on his cheek and instinctively wanting to clean it from his cherubic face. He probably thought she was crazy.

Why was she thinking about him at all? Because of her size she tended to go for men who at least could look her in the eye without being mounted on horseback.. But still, there was something about him.. She smiled to herself as she pulled her food from her satchel. "Yagaritte old girl you've been out in the field toooo long." she said, to no one in particular.

* * * * *

The young man pulled the collar of his jacket up as he trudged through the streets, dodging beggars and sweeping shopkeepers. Though his clothing, to the eye not keen on the finer details, was rather elegant, it did not provide much protection against the cold. It would be getting dark soon. The wind was surging from time to time as if to remind him he wasn't prepared for what was coming. He'd suffered through more than a few nights of this already, now that the rest of his savings had been exhausted by one of the local inns. Already his cheeks were colored a bright pink, and his teeth were chattering.

"Why did I pick such a terrible place to run to?" he asked himself silently, shaking his head. But in truth, he hadn't picked it. He had simply handed 90% of all the wealth he had in the world to a shifty looking Khajiit who had promised to get him "Soo farrrr from wherrrre you arrrre you won't find yourrrrr way baack!"

He forgot to mention he also wouldn't be able to find work or any source of money, and on some occasions, not even a warm place to spend the night.

They had laughed at him when he tried to join the fighters guild. "On an island loaded with real men who can swing a sword, who's going to hire a midget with a stick!? We'll call you if we need someone to read a book at someone!" He'd wanted to argue with them at that point that THIS midget could burn down the guild hall with THAT particular stick..but had again held his tongue to avoid unwanted attention.

He shook his head at himself, and looked up, squinting against the setting sun. "Where am I going... WHAT am I doing? Why am I so determined to become involved with that mountain of a woman? With ANY woman for that matter?" he berated himself.

Aside from his mother he'd never had much luck with any woman, romantically or otherwise. His heart twinged at the memory of his mother, but he pushed past it. It was desperation, he told himself. That and his innate concern for anyone who struggled to survive. She may be a giant, but she did not look like a rich giant. He had no idea what those herbs were worth, but he knew they were worth something to her, and that in itself was enough reason to continue his search.

Had he had a proper soul gem he could have enchanted some semi valuable object as a locator. Then again, if he had a proper soul gem he could have sold it for enough gold to buy a week at the best inn in town and still have money left over. The wind blew a particularly strong gust right up the back of his tailored jacket. He turned toward the now setting sun in a futile attempt to warm himself in its final beams of the day.

That's when he saw her.

Statuesque, beautiful, strong. The ripening sun struck her coppery hair and made it shine bright as any precious jewel he had seen before. She had that raw primal beauty that was only achievable by someone who didn't care if they were beautiful or alluring. She was leaning against the outside of a clothier's shop, her bag at her feet. She had a small indiscernible bundle in her hands, and she was taking huge, gulping bites from it. At that, his stomach growled. He had been looking for her for the better part of an hour, but now confronted with her practically glowing as the sun set behind her, he froze.

"Now what? What do I say...what do I do?? What if she laughs at me?" he agonized. That laugh, that deep throated, melodious, enchanting laugh. It had had an almost mesmerizing effect on him back in the shop, strong as any Magicka he'd ever seen or produced. It was what made him glance in her direction. He was standing there debating with himself if he was willing to face her scorn just for chance to hear that laugh again, when she happened to look up.

Yagaritte smiled when she spotted him, a bit of crumb sticking on her chin. She waved him over. He made a soft sound of disbelief, but moved towards her all the same. He might be shy. He might be nervous, but, .... he was NOT rude.

"You didn't buy a book?" she asked him as he slowly shuffled toward her. She noted that his face was red from the cold, and his clothing not properly suited to the climate. Like her, he did not have on a coat. The only difference was, he was clearly suffering for it.

"E-Edovan..." the young man murmured. Yagaritte looked at him quizzically, then laughed, that beautiful, full laugh of hers. She offered him what was left of her meal in one hand, and held the other out, empty, for a handshake. "Yagaritte," she said. The customs of this man's home land must be very strange, indeed, she thought to herself.

Edovan took her hand, though his own was trembling, but despite the cold weather, slightly warm (and sweaty?). Yagaritte took it, paying no mind to the state of his clammy skin. Her own hand was warm. Almost hot to him. She laughed again, breaking the shake and pushing the food bundle between his fingers. Edovan took it, cradling it against his chest. As hungry as we was, he was not entirely sure he was ready to accept this stranger's generosity. Yagaritte paid no mind, and instead bent to sling her satchel back across her shoulders, stretching her arms out wide as she came back up. She stifled a yawn.

It was then that Edovan remembered the little package of herbs in his pocket. He fumbled with the food, but folded its packaging neatly, sliding it gently into the pocket on the other side of his jacket. Who was he kidding? He would eat it without a second thought, the moment he had a chance. He reached into the other pocket and took the bundle, holding it out to her. He didn't know what he was thinking... what her reaction would be. He only wanted to return her prize to her. He had no idea what to expect, but as he saw the flash of lightning in her eyes, he realized his mistake too late.

In a flash she had grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him into the air effortlessly. "Why you little thief!" she thundered, as she threw his small frame against the shop wall, feet dangling in midair. "HOW DID YOU TAKE THAT FROM ME!!!"