{Words} 798 {Tagged} Aerin {Wearing} Dat normal armory garb

"It's a fine blade, Mjoll."

With the sword in her hand, the blonde tested the weight and balance of the weapon by twisting her arm in a few different directions, reversing her grip on the instrument. There was no arguing that it was a fine weapon, but it was far from superb. "Aye, 'tis a fine blade." The gentle roll of her voice seemed far from accurate on the woman behind the sound. "That axe must get heavy, lass. Why don't you try a sword for a while? It's fairly priced, and like you said, 'tis a fine blade!" The blonde tried it out a few more times in the next few seconds, debating on what he said. She hadn't ever really thought on the weight of her axe - her muscles had adjusted rather quickly to the heavier weapon. In the heat of battle, she had been concentrating more on the fight on hand than the weight of her battle axe.

Now that she thought of it, however, Mjoll found she missed Grimsever even more with every passing day. Now there had been a supurb blade. Perhaps her own soul was one of the few things she cherished as much as that sword, and the souls of her companion, Aerin. Somehow, the use of an axe had been far better than attempting to find a sword that would replace Grimsever. As much as she wished it could be done, Mjoll knew very well that her sword wasn't one that she could replace - and had often wondered how she could get it back. It seemed unlikely tha she would be able to. Mjoll had always thought herself fearless - but that experience had taught her that a certain amount of fear was healthy. But did she fear the ruins of Mzinchaleft simply from her one near death experience? How many times had she looked death in the face and laughed? Yet somehow that certain experience left a very clear mark in her head.

"Lass?" Shaking her head to rid herself of the memories of Grimsever and the horrid day she had nearly had her life taken from her, Mjoll found herself peering at the waiting eyes of the Riften shopkeeper. "I'm sorry to say not on this day. Perhaps I will come look at it again some other time." Again the soft rolling of her tongue was far from the battle maiden standing there. Regretfully placing the sword back into the waiting hands of the shopkeeper (More regret because she had been thinking of her beloved Grimsever), Mjoll exchanged pleasantries and turned to leave.

Yet a certain scowl was set on her face even as she shouldered her way past the various people that had collected in the Riften markets. Her mind was miles and miles away, at the end of Mzinchaleft, staring at the mechanical beast that had assaulted her so suddenly. Had Aerin not found her that day, she would have lost more than her precious blade - she would have lost her life. Not a day went by without Mjoll thinking about that very thing. Nay, she couldn't go running off and risking death to retrieve a blade when she had her own set of duties to attend to here in Riften that she couldn't simply run away from.

Could she?

Aerin might himself be gutted while she was off on an adventure, she was well aware of that. As outspoken as her companion was - earning a slight tilt in her lips at the thought - he had no skill with a blade outside her short lessons. With the enemies they made on a daily basis with the underhanded scum around Riften, she wouldn't be surprised if they moved in on him as soon as her spot in town was cold. And for that reason alone, she couldn't leave Riften - and Aerin.

Unless he came with her...

{NOTES } I feel myself trying to talk like her when I post Mjoll

Tagged : Mjoll | Words : 691 | Notes : Ahh man, I enjoyed writing him even more than I expected. XD

Now where had Aerin's most lovely company gone to leave him waiting and worrying for so long? The Imperial had left a short meeting with a friend from Whiterun in his guest room to find that Mjoll had departed the household without mentioning her reasons for leaving. While he knew Mjoll was certainly an adult who could take care of herself, likely better than he could take care of himself at times given her skill with a blade, Aerin couldn't help but feel some concern if she had left without saying anything to him beforehand, and so he had fetched his coat and left the home to scour Riften for her. His short journey had taken him past and through the Bee and Barb and close to the rumored entrance to the Thieves Guild just to...ensure he didn't hear any feminine yells coming from underneath the cemetery. His heart had stopped a moment when he thought he had heard someone doing just that, but once he got a little closer, he'd noticed it was a man yelling something about losing a book. Some strange business was taking place underneath Riften, by the sound of it, and Aerin had simply raised his eyebrow and decided to skitter away as quickly as possible to avoid being pulled into the strangeness.

And thus his journey had taken him to the market district, and it was there that he had found, asking one of the one individuals that he trusted in the markets if he had seen Mjoll, that his lovely Nordic friend had apparently opted to go shopping for weaponry. Aerin had taken off in a more jolly mood to meet her in the weapons trader, his expression one of pleasure, when he had seen her emerge looking...quite unhappy. He stopped momentarily in her tracks to regard her from a short ways away, his hand moving to brush his hair back and away from his face, tentative. Well, her visit to the trader apparently had not...gone very well. Why, Aerin could not guess, unless the trader had spouted some business of the thieves guild or other that had gotten under her skin. Aerin obviously had no worries that Mjoll would react to him poorly - or at least, he hoped she didn't, because he cared very much for her state of mind - but he still did not want to worsen her mood as he approached. As it looked as if she would get past without him able to catch up with her - what a fast Nord she was - he finally pushed forward through the small gathering of the crowd to catch up with her, narrowly avoiding stumbling over an argonian as he made his way over. "Lady Mjoll!"

Fortunately, he had recovered from his near stumble once he reached her side and provided her a pleasant smile. Well, however she might be scowling, her features were still nothing poor to look at in the slightest. He let his expression fall slightly, though, as to not seem too happy and joyful if she was upset about something. Nords were quite easy to read, thankfully - much easier to comprehend than Aerin's own race. "I was disappointed when I saw you had left. I thought my meeting with my guest had grated on your nerves, so I decided to come and find you." It was not his place to ask that she mention every time she left the house, but...he wished she would mention every time she left the house. However, he didn't reveal that to her. "You were visiting the weapons trader, were you? Did you spot any weapons you liked?" Divines, did he hope he was not approaching a touchy subject, but he did wish to know. Thusfar, her warhammer had seemed to tide her over in the aftermath of losing her prized Grimsever, but Aerin well knew that her heart rested with her oft-lauded weapon. Perhaps she had looked to replaced it and not had the coin...a problem Aerin could negate for her if she so desired. If he had anything worthwhile in this world, it was coin.