"Braith! You cheated!" Accused the frail Redguard boy with a wide grin, laughter lines in the folds near his eyelids.

The Redguard child opposite to the other hopped over a large stone blocking her path. "Did not! You're just too plain slow." Ignorantly she kicked at the sand on the ground and snickered ruefully when Cabaro began to cough violently, dust particles zooming both inward and out of his nostrils at the same time.

Waving at the air with one hand Cabaro could only giggle along with her between fits of unpleasant sneezing.

"Gross!" Braith glanced around the bustling market and upon noticing a calmly grazing cow in the patch of grass beside one of the village huts nearby, grew inspired in hopes of a nasty prank.

Turning to Cabaro she sneered and poked him hard in the chest with a slender finger. "Let's go knock the cow over!" Hissing in excitement she began clambering the stone stairs for the paddock that enclosed the livestock, her dark braided hair blowing against the breeze as loose strands flailed about.

Upon hearing this, two other Nord children excitably followed to join in the games.

Gingerly Cabaro placed one foot on the first stone step, contemplating his options.

Hesitation took over and Cabaro stiffened. Of course, it would be funny...but father wouldn't be pleased with that foolishness. Father thought games a waste of time. Sighing heavily, he turned his cheek and stalked away from the stairs, instead heading towards the shops and past the market place.

Wincing suddenly, he realized Braith had noticed his disappearance and could just barely hear her insult from afar.

"See? I knew he couldn't do it. He's nothing but a little ol' milk drinker!" Children laughing.

Shoving his small fingers into his baggy, poorly stitched pockets he walked hunched and head lowered, muttering and mumbling nothings to no one but himself.

Being only ten years old was so unfair.

Combing his well greased and sleek raven hair with his dirt encrusted fingertips, he picked at a scab from a small incident involving Braith and wrinkled his nose in distaste when a small portion of fresh blood poured from the newly opened wound.

His stroll led him to to the Warmaiden's, near the entrance to the capital. Slowing, it crossed his mind that he had never seen a piece of armoury crafted. This might be amusing.

Slowly he advanced upon Adrianne Avenicci, the skilled blacksmith and married daughter of Proventus Avenicci, the Jarl Balgruuf's steward.

Leaning against a sturdy wooden beam his eyes focussed curiously on the piece of steel armour Adrianne was forging. Peeking from behind the beam, he could catch only the slightest glimpse of the metal. Gauntlets, by the looks of it.

Turning slightly Adrianne now had her back to him, and what had been visible was now the impossible to see.

Boredom ensued and Cabaro grew far too impatient to wait for her to turn once again. With silent footfalls, he reached for the next beam for a better view. Cabaro was foolish in his decision, however, and neglected to notice the tanned leather heap on the ground at his feet.

Tumbling forwards, Cabaro yelped and thwacked his head hard on the next beam, his feet caught in the midst of the leather.

Adrianne immediately set down her tools and whirled to face the clumsy child. Grasping an oily cloth she brought it back and forth along her hands, wiping off the grease and the ashes. Shaking her blonde head she watched in amusement when he didn't pick himself up off the stone ground, rubbing his forehead.

"Good morning to you, little man. What can I do for you?" Her thick Imperial accent was bold.

Cabaro usually in this particular situation would have taken the opportunity to hide from sight behind his father's leg.

But father wasn't here now.

Brushing the sand from his wool pants, Cabaro silently rose up to his feet, his face flushed red and his feet wobbled against his own weight. Cautiously he took several steps backwards.

Nervously he began to stutter. "S - sorry, miss. I - I'm sorry if I bothered you." It was all Cabaro could do to keep from the heavy silver tear drops to roll down over his cheeks.

Adrianne smiled and perhaps a sense of pity washed over her for the nervous wreck who stood before her, nearly in tears.

"Say, little man, I need some help around the forge. The work is absolutely exhausting." Pretending to pant, Adrianne wiped a hand over her forehead to swipe away beads of perspiration and glanced down at the curious golden eyes before her. "Do you think you could be my special assistant just this once?"

Nodding, Cabaro wiped his eyes with his fists and joined Adrianne at the work bench.

Adrianne eyed the promising lad with curiosity. Hoping to see how gifted of a blacksmith he was, she handed him two full iron ingots and two strips of leather.

Staggering under the weight of the iron, Cabaro brought the supplies over to the brink of the forge, setting each material out gently. Adrianne joined him and lifted up a single iron ingot.

"This is where it begins," she informed him with a gesture towards the furnace.

Together the two sat beside the forge for hours on end, letting the iron melt against the smouldering heat of the furnace as Adrianne controlled the quantities of force the heat was delivered in over the chunk of iron, tugging on a tight and secure rope.

In and out she would hold the metal by a pair of heavy tongs, and Cabaro laboured in constant heavy swings with a hard hammer against the metal, shaping the piece of weaponry.

Stories were shared and Cabaro grew a special interest in this promising profession before him. Slowly lifting the finished piece of metal work from the furnace to cool, he laid it upon the brink of the forge and stood up, dusting  the oversized apron Adrianne had lent to him.

A sturdy knot pinned the leather strips securely to the piece and Adrianne wrapped the leather over and over in constant motion to seal what would be the handle of the weapon. Cabaro rested both hands on his chin with his elbows on the work bench nearby, awaiting his return to his share of the work.

Holding out a glinting iron dagger to him, Adrianne appeared pleased with his level of craftsmanship. "Not bad, little man. But this piece is a little dull. Try the grindstone wheel over there. Temper it a little. That should do the trick." With that, she returned to the Warmaiden's to attend to the customers alongside her husband.

Cabaro studied the blade in his hand and brought it to the grindstone. Careful not to tip anything other over, he sat at the wheel and placed each foot on a single pedal, holding the blade firmly against the rough stone. Pushing with whatever strength the skimpy ten year old could muster, the grindstone began to turn forward and the blade emitted sparks of metal, the edges growing fine and straight; sharp to the touch.

He had the dagger on the wheel for a good many minutes before Adrianne returned to the workshop. Out of the corner of his eye Cabaro noticed Braith and a few other children running along the streets and in between the houses. Hide and Seek, he imagined.

Adrianne accepted the blade from his small hand and inspected it, turning the weapon over and over in her grasp. Impressed, she laid the sharpened dagger on the workbench and motioned for Cabaro to join her at the tanning rack.

Handing over a flat piece of leather, she gestured for him to sit. He did as he was ordered and received the leather.

"It's used for fillings among other things like that," she had told him. "You can't have a piece of armoury without a stable leather fit on the inside. It just wouldn't fit right."

Cabaro had never imagined he'd have a talent for this sort of work. Father had always insisted he would be a warrior. And there was no escaping the destiny before him. Disgrace it was, he didn't seem to notice how quickly the time went by when Adrianne returned to see to his handicraft.

"Keep it up, little man. Now we're going to craft a hide helmet. Take that leather to the forge over there." Adrianne instructed the boy, and he did as he was told. This was the sort of task that had been hammered into Cabaro from the age of a young toddler and onward. "Listen. Don't ask. Do as you're told."

The unlikely pair worked hard into dusk, and this proved to be worth the while. Looking over the two pieces Cabaro had created alongside her that day, Adrianne was far from disappointed.

"You've gone and done some promising work, little man. Keep that up, and you'll be a fine blacksmith someday."

Ruffling the unruly tufts of black hair on his head, Adrianne affectionately booted the youngster off on his way.

Afar the fir trees were still excepting the few breezes that swayed them side to side, and lark calls from the skies settled to a halt. Thrown across the sky a sea of pinks, yellows, and oranges scattered to arrange themselves into the passing of a successful day. As if a mirage the sun set in a pool of fiery heat, draining into the frost covered mountains off in the distance. Noises and bothersome livestock squeals ceased, and night claimed Whiterun.

As guards passed on their shift and villagers retired to their cabins, all but Cabaro seemed eager to return home.

Lost eyes wandered until they met Adrianne's, and the daughter of the city steward could only wonder what went through the mysterious Redguard boy's head all the time. Rough life he must've had.

"Say, little man. What if I let you keep that helmet and that dagger? So you'll remember that you're always welcome here at my shop and you can help me anytime you please." In a smooth and timely gesture Cabaro found he had his scrawny arms full with the weight of two pieces of armoury that he and an unlikely companion had put hours of passion into forging.

Giggling profoundly at the sight, Adrianne shooed the Redguard and motioned for him to retire for the day. He had earned his rest.

"Off with you, little man. Your pa must be fretting something awful."

Turning and beginning in the direction of his home, Cabaro all but wanted to leave Adrianne's side. A wave of profound sadness washed over his soul and he gazed into her soft eyes longingly. She would make an ideal mother, he thought to himself, if she ever did pursue a dream of bearing children. It had been long since he and another had shared a decent conversation. Thirst for the loving caress of a mother ached the void in his young heart and he parted his dry, plump lips to make a remark. Maybe she might give him the honour of this friendship.

"Adrianne?"

An imperial woman's gaze met his for the last time that day.

"Yes, little man?"

"You're the bestest friend I ever had in a long, long time."

Hello everyone! I'm sure you're all wondering why I've published two Skyrim books at once. Well, I think this should be a great way for me to learn a sense of responsibility and finally dedicate my time on this site to one of my many passions, literature.
Please don't neglect to let me know what you think of my two running stories so far and your critique is always welcome! Thank you all so much!

-Klara