Dodger: Continuation - 1 of 14

Her first inclination was just to return home. She was well aware of how close she had escaped slavery. Or worse. But the warmth of the drink and the relief of having escaped, along with the Argonian stranger’s words caused her to rethink that decision. Her fascination with humans in general was too deep to let his cynical words stand. And besides, if she returned now she might as well admit defeat. As weird as this day had turned out, she also realized she had learned practically nothing that she could use in her book.

“WAIT UP!” she called to the stranger and raced to catch up.

He looked at her askance. “Now hold on young one. I am no babysitter, and you have no business coming with me. Go home to your clutch. The Imperial City is no place for a hatchling like you. I’d thought you would have learned your lesson back there.”

Dodger stood defiant. “You can’t stop me. I’m going to the Imperial City with you or without you. We might as well travel together. I’m seventeen, I’ll have you know. I’m not a hatchling.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “But don’t expect me to be your nanny. You’re on your own when we get there. And here, give that bottle back. I don’t need a drunk hatchling…”

“Seventeen!”, she insisted.

“…drunk teenager then. I don’t need some drunk teenager staggering around slowing me down. Keep up or don’t. But you don’t need that.”

“Yes sir, Mr… what did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, what should I call you then?”

“You shouldn’t. But ‘Sir’ will do.”

Dodger groaned at that. This was going to be a long, boring walk.

“Well, I’m Kakar-Sutheeth,” she said, holding out her hand in the common human way of greeting. “And I’m glad to meet you.”

The stranger looked at her hand, a smile coming over his face.

“Shut up!” she said at his non-existent words. “Just call me Dodger.”

“Dodger it is then. A porcupine?”

“I said shut up about it,” she said, knowing a blush was stealing over her face against her will.

They did find a road before long, and the stranger seemed to know where he was and where he was going, so Dodger kept pace and tried not to ask too many questions until the sun began to set.

“Um… sir?”

“Yes Dodger?” he sighed as they climbed yet another hill.

“How far is it to the city? Will we get there tonight?”

“Not tonight, no. I’ll stop before nightfall. You can continue on if you like, but I’d advise against it. Unless a Legionnaire comes up behind us that wants to keep guard over you, it’s not safe at night.”

“Oh. Okay.”

They walked on for a while until he came to a stop as the sky began to darken. He pointed at last to an outcrop of rocks some way off the road. “There,” he stated.

Dodger followed dutifully, taking another drink from her water flask as she followed him.

“Do you have a knife?” he asked.

“Sure! Unlike you, I came prepared!” she said cheerfully as she dug around and produced the small blade.

“Hmph. Got any food in that pack of yours?”

“Well,” she stammered. “Not a lot. I’ve got some jerky left and a little green-leaf salad.”

“Prepared eh?” he said, looking at the knife in his hand. He looked at her again and the knife suddenly looked a lot bigger than she remembered.

“You can have it!” she said, proffering her pack whole.

“Oh relax hatchling. I’m not going to rob you. You stay here. I’ll be back in an hour or less.”

She watched his back fade into the darkness and settled in atop the rocks in a little cubby and picked at her salad. She decided that, as gruff as the stranger was, she was duty bound to offer him half anyway so she separated what she had. That crack about being prepared was stupid, she realized, and she hit herself on the head for having said it.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!”

But as time went on, she began to wonder if he was even going to come back. It had certainly been more than an hour and there was still no sign of him. She wouldn’t blame him if he’d abandoned her altogether. Eventually she pulled out her blanket and tried to sleep. But the breeze was cold, the blanket thin and small, and the rock was hard. She snuggled up to the rock behind her closer, the heat of the day still radiating from it a little.

She heard him return finally, whispering her name, “Dodger? Are you there?”

“Sir? Yes, I’m here.”

“Sorry, it took longer than I thought. I’ve a little food if you’re interested,” he said, climbing up to where she lay.

Dodger took one look at the raw mystery meat he offered and shook her head. “Thanks, Sir. I really appreciate it. But I’m good.”

He nodded in the darkness, her eyes able to pick out his silhouette against the night sky.

“I’d cook it if I could. I don’t eat raw meat as a habit. But a fire out here isn’t a good idea.”

“I saved you some salad,” she said, sitting up and offering it.

“Thank you, I’ll take it young one,” he said. “We’ll be in the city by midday tomorrow. My friend will put us up and feed us when we get there.”

“Oh! That would be wonderful!” she said, not hiding the delight in having a more formal plan for her future, if even just for another night. She offered him her water.

The stranger took the water bottle gratefully and drank a draft before handing it back with a grunt, then lay down with his back to her and his jacket over his shoulders. It didn’t even reach to his tail, she noticed, then looked to her own blanket. Too small but better than that.

“This is silly,” she said. “Sir, turn around.”

“Hmm?” he grunted, turning over.

She snuggled up against him, stuck her tail between his legs and put the blanket over them both, using his arm for a pillow and pulling his other arm over her.

“A human would be warmer,” he said.

“I’m sure they would,” she agreed. “But you’re all I’ve got tonight. Now don’t get fresh. Goodnight, Sir.”

“Yellow-Eyes,” he said a little later. “Call me Yellow-Eyes.”

“You don’t have yellow eyes, do you?”

“You don’t know?,” he asked.

“I’m color-blind,” Dodger admitted, a little ashamed. “I really don’t know.”

“No, they’re not yellow.” he answered, shifting a little and obviously not planning to explain further.

“SIR!” Dodger exclaimed at a sudden poke in her backside. “I SAID DON’T GET FRESH!”

Yellow-Eyes reached between them and handed her knife back to her.

Dodger laughed nervously and accepted the knife, noticing the handmade sheath of leaves he had created for it. “Oh. Heh. Sorry.”

Part 1 of 14. Remainder available at https://bdfanfic.tumblr.com/archive