riftenriffraff
“What person wouldn’t want to hear the tale of your dragon-fighting?” Cyril asked, a smile forming on his face again. The nagging feeling of concern was still there, but they were… friends. Or acquaintances. He wasn’t too sure where their relationship stood at this point.
“I still can’t say I understand it,” he admitted, offering her a shrug and leaning back in his seat a little. “I suppose I can… appreciate it, though. You practically being a hero and all.”
The Imperial quieted down for a moment, taking a thoughtful swig of his drink and attempting to sort his feelings and thoughts on the situation. This entire time, he had assumed Nova was something of a mercenary, a sellsword. Maybe even a simple bounty hunter.
A dragon slayer was not on his list. Though that was mostly because he liked believing dragons were a myth. Or at least extinct. Now here was someone telling him not only had they seen more than one with their own eyes, but they had killed some as well - and he believed her.
Worst of all - he was worried about her. Genuinely worried. Which was worrying all on its own. Her safety wasn’t his concern - and yet now it was. Or perhaps it always had been and he had simply ignored it.
“Any other heroic secrets you’re keeping from me, then?” Cyril asked, glancing over the top of his drink and raising a brow, attempting to lighten the mood and clear his head.
“Daughter of some forgotten king? Descendant of Tiber Septim himself? Saved a school of children from mad necromancers?”
Nova let out a chuckle and sat her goblet on the table. She hadn’t expected him to understand, she doubted anyone in their right mind would, but what he said next was nice to hear (even when phrased that way).
The silence between them was comfortable, and she relaxed back into her seat as she thumbed the stem of her goblet. His next question, however, had her straighten up slightly and made her face stiffen.
“Well,” Nova drawled and leaned forward on the table, unsure if she should tell him the truth or just make something up. She knew what he did for a living, and had a decent idea of what that entailed. It was only fair she brought him up to speed regarding her way of life. “You’re not so far off with the Tiber Septim part, actually, and if you laugh, I will punch you,” she threatened jokingly, pointing a finger at him while trying to stop the smirk from spreading across her face.
“Tiber Septim, and several men and women before him, were Dragonborn, and so am I,” she said sounding more than a little reluctant. “That’s why I’m hunting dragons,” she added, averting her eyes from him and focusing on her goblet instead. “Those who are Dragonborn have the ability to absorm a dragon’s soul when it dies, permanently killing them.”















