Chapter 85
After breakfast, the three of us made our way back to the house as the morning sun climbed higher above Whiterun's towering stone walls, its light spilling warmly across the streets. The city felt more alive now guards patrolled the roads, merchants called out to early customers, and the steady rhythm of daily life echoed around us.
The moment we reached the front door, the quiet was shattered by the heavy thud of boots against stone and the sharp clatter of metal tools.
Several men were already there.
Broad-shouldered workers moved with practiced efficiency, unloading wooden planks, chairs, tables, and large sealed crates from a sturdy cart. The emblem of Jarl Balgruuf was clearly stamped onto its side, leaving no doubt as to who had sent them. The air was filled with the rough scent of fresh-cut wood and iron, accompanied by short, shouted instructions as the men carried the furniture inside.
One of the workers paused, straightened his back, and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand when he noticed Alex standing there. He stepped forward and gave a respectful nod.
"Ah, you must be Alex," the man said, his voice firm but polite. "We were instructed to furnish this house properly. Beds, tables, shelves everything. Jarl Balgruuf's orders."
Alex blinked, clearly caught off guard. For a brief moment, he simply stared at the growing pile of furniture, then let out a quiet, amused chuckle. He lifted a hand and scratched the back of his head, half-smiling in disbelief.
"He works fast…" he muttered.
Astrid folded her arms across her chest, shifting her weight onto one leg as she surveyed the scene. A crooked, knowing smile tugged at her lips, and she shook her head slightly.
"Typical of him," she said with a faint scoff. "When Balgruuf decides to help, he doesn't do anything halfway."
A step behind them, Lucia stood still.
Her small hands clutched the hem of her worn shirt, fingers tightening and loosening nervously as she watched the workers carry furniture past her and into the house. At first, her eyes sparkled with quiet wonder real beds with thick wooden frames, a sturdy dining table large enough for several people, and tall shelves that would soon be filled with books and supplies she had only ever seen from a distance.
For a moment, she forgot to breathe, her gaze following each piece as if afraid it might vanish.
To Lucia, it didn't just look like furniture.
It looked like a home.
But as more workers poured into the house voices overlapping, boots thudding against the floor, furniture being pushed and rearranged with practiced speed Lucia's expression slowly began to change.
The sparkle in her eyes faded.
Her shoulders slumped, as if a quiet weight had settled on them. She took a small, hesitant step forward, as though she wanted to say something, then stopped herself. Her hands curled tightly into fists at her sides, the fabric of her shirt wrinkling under her grip.
She lingered there, uncertain and out of place.
Alex noticed it immediately.
Lucia lowered her head, her messy hair falling over her face and hiding her eyes. Her voice came out small and careful, as if she were afraid of saying the wrong thing.
"Mister… Miss Astrid…" she said softly. "…I'm sorry."
The sudden apology made both of them turn toward her at once.
Astrid blinked, her brows knitting together in confusion as she leaned forward slightly. "Sorry for what?"
Lucia pressed her lips together, biting down on them as her fingers tightened even more. She swallowed hard before forcing herself to speak.
"I wanted to help clean the house," she said, her words slow and shaky. "You said I could help, so I thought… I thought I could be useful." Her voice wavered, and she hugged her arms closer to herself. "But now… I'm not needed anymore."
Her gaze dropped to the floor, fixed on the wooden planks beneath her feet, as if she were afraid to look up afraid of being told she was right, that she was only in the way.
Alex felt a sharp ache tighten in his chest.
Without hesitation, he crouched down in front of her until they were at eye level. He reached out and placed both hands gently on her small shoulders, his grip warm and steady, grounding.
"Lucia," he said quietly, his voice calm but filled with sincerity, "helping isn't just about cleaning."
She hesitated, then slowly lifted her head. Her eyes were uncertain, searching his face as if trying to understand whether he truly meant it.
"You already helped us," Alex continued, his tone unwavering. "You were here. You stayed with us. That matters more than you think."
Astrid stepped closer and lowered herself to Lucia's other side, one knee touching the floor. She rested a hand lightly against Lucia's back, her touch gentle and reassuring. A playful grin curved her lips as she tilted her head.
"Besides," she added warmly, "it was more fun at the inn because you were there."
Lucia blinked, clearly caught off guard.
Alex smiled softly, his eyes kind. "And even now," he said, "you're helping just by being yourself."
For a moment, Lucia didn't say anything.
Then, little by little, the tension drained from her body. Her shoulders relaxed, her clenched fists loosened, and her hands fell back to her sides. She took a small breath, as if she had been holding it in for a long time.
"…Really?" she asked in a tiny voice.
Astrid nodded without hesitation. "Really."
Lucia's lips slowly curved into a small, fragile smile one that carried relief, warmth, and the faintest hint of hope.
By the time the workers finished and hauled away their tools, the house was almost unrecognizable.
Where there had once been bare floors and empty walls, a proper bed now stood in the bedroom, its sheets pulled tight and neatly arranged. A solid wooden table occupied the center of the main room, sturdy and warm, surrounded by chairs that didn't wobble when touched. Shelves lined the walls, already giving the space a sense of order, and a small chest rested quietly near the corner, waiting to be filled.
The air smelled faintly of fresh wood.
For the first time since stepping inside, the place didn't feel like an empty building anymore.
It felt like a home.
Lucia stood near the doorway, slowly turning in place as her eyes traveled from one piece of furniture to another. Her fingers brushed the edge of the table, then the back of a chair, her touch careful and almost reverent like she was afraid touching it too firmly might break the moment.
After the last worker bowed and left, the door closing softly behind him, Alex clapped his hands together with a light, satisfied sound.
"Alright," he said, straightening his posture. "Next stop clothes."
Lucia stopped mid-step and tilted her head slightly, confusion written plainly on her face. "Clothes?"
Astrid let out a soft chuckle, resting her hands on her hips. "New ones."
Lucia froze.
Her eyes widened, and she instinctively grabbed the hem of her shirt. "F-for me?" she asked, her voice small and disbelieving.
Alex nodded as if there were nothing strange about it at all. "Your sleeves are too long," he said gently, gesturing toward her arms, "and it's getting colder out. Let's fix that."
Lucia hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Then she nodded slowly and reached out, wrapping her small fingers around Astrid's hand as if seeking reassurance.
Astrid gave her hand a gentle squeeze, and together they headed into the marketplace.
The stalls buzzed with life merchants calling out prices, cloth fluttering in the breeze, sunlight glinting off metal buckles. At the clothing stall, Lucia stood stiffly in place, her back straight and arms tucked close to her body, unsure of where to put her hands.
Astrid moved with confidence, lifting shirts from the rack and holding them up against Lucia's small frame, tilting her head critically. "Hmm… too big. This one might work," she muttered, occasionally smoothing the fabric or adjusting the length to judge the fit.
Nearby, Alex leaned against a wooden post with his arms crossed, pretending to look elsewhere. But every time Lucia glanced down at a piece of clothing and smiled shyly at the soft fabric, his expression softened without him realizing it.
In the end, Lucia stepped out wearing a simple, clean shirt that fit her perfectly.
She looked down at herself, lifting the fabric between her fingers and rubbing it gently, as if testing whether it was real. Her hands trembled just slightly.
"It… fits," she whispered, almost to herself.
Astrid crouched in front of her and carefully adjusted the collar, smoothing out a small wrinkle with practiced ease. "You look great," she said warmly.
Lucia's eyes shimmered, reflecting the light. She nodded quickly, pressing her lips together as she looked away, afraid that if she spoke again, the tears she'd been holding back would finally fall.
Back at home, the afternoon passed in a gentle, unhurried calm.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting warm patterns across the wooden floor as Alex and Lucia sat together at the table. The simple book lay open between them, its pages slightly worn. Alex leaned closer, resting one elbow on the table as he pointed to the letters one by one, his finger moving slowly and deliberately so she wouldn't feel rushed.
"This one is 'A'," he said patiently, his voice low and steady. "Can you say it?"
Lucia leaned forward until her face was only inches from the page. Her eyes narrowed in intense focus, and the tip of her tongue peeked out from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated with everything she had.
"…A," she said carefully, as if afraid of getting it wrong.
Alex's face immediately lit up. "Good," he said warmly, nodding in encouragement. "That's right. Now this one."
As they continued, Lucia stumbled more than once. Sometimes she hesitated too long, sometimes she guessed and frowned when she realized her mistake. Each time, her shoulders tensed and her fingers curled nervously against the edge of the table.
But Alex never raised his voice.
He smiled, tapped the page lightly, and guided her again, his tone calm and reassuring. "It's alright. Take your time. You're doing great."
Little by little, her frown softened, replaced by determination.
Later, outside in the yard, the sound of wood tapping against stone echoed softly as Astrid handed Lucia a wooden sword.
Lucia wrapped both hands around the hilt, gripping it awkwardly. The weight surprised her, and she adjusted her stance instinctively.
"Feet apart," Astrid instructed, stepping in front of her and demonstrating the stance with practiced ease. "Good. Bend your knees a little. Now swing."
Lucia swung with too much force, the wooden blade cutting through the air wildly. Her feet slipped, and she nearly lost her balance.
In an instant, Astrid stepped forward and caught her, steadying her shoulders with firm but gentle hands.
"Easy," Astrid said, her voice calm and encouraging. "Strength comes later. Control first."
Lucia laughed softly, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "S-sorry."
Astrid smirked. "No need. Try again."
This time, Lucia swung more carefully, her movements slower and more deliberate. Astrid nodded in approval.
As the sun began to sink behind Whiterun's walls, the house glowed warmly from within. Lamps were lit, casting a soft golden light that filled every corner, illuminating the furniture and turning the once-empty space into something alive.
Lucia yawned suddenly, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands, her body swaying slightly from exhaustion.
Alex noticed and stood up at once. "Alright," he said gently. "That's enough for today."
"But " Lucia started, lifting her head stubbornly.
"No buts," Astrid said softly, kneeling beside her. "You worked hard."
Alex guided her toward the bedroom, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "Tomorrow," he said with a small smile, "we'll continue."
Lucia climbed onto the bed hesitantly, sinking into the soft mattress as if she wasn't used to something so comfortable. She clutched the blanket, then looked up at them, her eyes heavy with sleep but shining.
"Thank you," she murmured.
Alex smiled and carefully tucked the blanket around her, making sure she was warm. "Sleep well."
Her eyelids fluttered shut moments later, her breathing evening out into slow, peaceful rhythms.
Alex and Astrid quietly stepped out of the room and closed the door most of the way.
Alex exhaled slowly. "…Astrid."
She didn't answer right away she only nodded, already knowing what he was going to say.
"We can't just leave her," Alex said quietly, his voice firm beneath the softness.
Astrid's expression softened into a gentle smile. "I was thinking the same thing."
They stood there in silence, listening to Lucia's steady breathing from the other side of the door both of them having already made the same unspoken decision.
Not just to protect her.
But to give her a family.
if you want to read more chapter visit my Pat_reon.com/frz10