Window Gazing (Anna)

 A/N: Anna birthday fic woooo she gets paperwork as a present

Prompt: Window gazing

I was looking out the window when the most peculiar thing occurred…almost as if by clockwork a horde of guards appeared, one by one, exiting the small tower up on the hill, and beginning their descent. How such a place could fit that many people I have no clue. That combined with the fact I don’t see any coming from other directions makes me wonder if that may be the only barracks in the entire city. There has to be a separate barracks for castle guards…right?

The guards, having reached the end of their long winding staircase, begin to disperse throughout the city, some I see go out of view towards the mine and the warrens, others stay in the same general area as the staircase, and others begin to walk toward the market passing by as they do still looking tired from a no good nights sleep on a stone bed. “People watching?” I hear a voice behind me ask just before I’m lightly thwacked on the head with a pile of papers. A moment later Farkas sits next to me on the bench carved into the windowsill and looks between the view of the city streets below and where my face is still pressed against the window trying to get a better look at what’s going on. “You know we can just go outside if you’re that curious about something.” I’m reminded, but that’s no fun. “Have you ever seen a horde of guards randomly come out of somewhere in Whiterun all at once?” I question Farkas as I sit back away from the window, shifting myself so one leg is tucked under the other as it dangles from beyond the edge of the bench. The nord thinks for a minute or two trying to remember before answering. “Once or twice, a group of them I once saw coming down from Dragonsreach but where they exited the castle as far as I know has no obvious door.” Farkas explains in addition to also having once seen perhaps twenty guards come out of their tiny barracks near the city gates, how peculiar. “Let me guess, you saw a disproportionate amount of guards come out of the tower and can’t figure out how they all fit in there?” I nod in confirmation, and in response am told with an ever so slightly visible mischievous grin that looks can be deceiving. That fact is true, very true, out of all the people I know intimately in any way I think very few of them can be accurately figured out based on first impressions. Now that I think of it, as Farkas continues talking, he is a perfect example. At first glance he may seem intimidating, perhaps even slightly scary if you cross him, and to those who have a very narrow view of intelligence possibly even not too bright- in reality he’s just introverted, usually anxious about something, and prefers to get right to the point instead of wasting time with needlessly complicated language. That part is best left to Vilkas, who despite being even more introverted, is sometimes seemingly incapable of shutting up about certain topics. As I continue to think things over I’m abruptly drawn out of my thoughts by a snap of fingers and find Farkas looking at me blankly before coming to a realization. “You didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?” the awkward downside of getting lost in one’s thoughts. “No…” I admit while trying my best at avoiding eye contact to which he sighs. The sigh isn’t an angry one, or even an annoyed one, it is really more one of minor but expected disappointment. “Well, that settles that then, you’re helping me sort jobs today.” At that I put on my best pouty face though the tactic fails. “Come on, it’ll go quicker if it’s two of us.” Farkas says as he gets up, lightly hitting me on the head again with the papers. Ugh, I hate paperwork. Why can’t I gaze out the window at all the strange things that go on in Markarth instead?

“This is boring.” I groan, sitting on the floor next to the desk with five piles of papers spread out before me. “The less you stop to complain the quicker it will go.” I’m told before being handed down another stack of papers to sort. “Why do you get the desk and I get the floor?” I ask glaring at Farkas where he sits and continues to work. “Because I’m doing more of the work, and I got here first.” He responds, putting another piece of paper in the pile marked with my name. I just hope that one isn’t another job that involves clearing out falmer, the last one wasn’t pleasant. That’s fair I suppose, most of the pile is on his end, I just get the extras to make the process go faster, and at least I can look out the window while I work. This stack of jobs seem like the more difficult ones as I flip through them before beginning to divide them up. Two go into the stack with Ria’s name, three go in the stack labeled Athis, another two I toss in the pile with Njada’s name, and the rest go into the stack labeled Tovar. I don’t like Tovar, as a result he gets the least desirable jobs for the week. “Have fun killing falmer and getting chased by trolls.” I quietly say to myself, putting the pieces of paper in his pile. That draws the attention of Farkas, however, who picks the pile up off the floor and looks through it. “Anna, I know you don’t like him, but you can’t make it like you’re trying to kill him.” He sighs and hands me back the pile, telling me to divide it up a bit more evenly. “Why not?!” I protest. What if I am trying to kill Tovar? He’s not particularly nice, or polite, or very skilled with a sword. “Because he doesn’t know you’re helping me and it will seem like I’m trying to kill him.” With a huff of annoyance I comply though and reconfigure each pile to be more evenly distributed. “I’m done!” I announce holding up one of the reconfigured paper piles. “Not quite.” Farkas tells me while taking the pile I hold and handing me another. I give him another look as I internally contemplate ripping the pieces of paper in my hand to shreds. “If you stop pouting and imagining stabbing me the sooner you’ll finish and the sooner you’ll get your reward.” I’m told calmly. Of course he knows I can be easily enticed by the possibility of rewards, damn it. With a grumbled “fine.” I drop the pile on the stone floor and get back to work. Hopefully this is the last of the piles, it seems like we’ve been here for hours, and my patience is wearing thin.

After half an hour more the unsorted stack of paper is now gone with all jobs for the coming week divided up among each of the companions not part of the circle, and a separate pile is created for the circle who get to choose what they’d like to do. My reward, it turns out, consists of three parts the first being dinner, the second being my pick of jobs for the week, and the third part I’m told nothing more than it’s something that can’t be revealed until we get back from dinner and it isn’t an object. That makes me curious, but my mind is more focused on dinner at the moment. The food at the silver blood inn could be worse, it could be better too, but overall it’s decent. Still tired and a bit grumpy as a result of spending hours sorting stupid pieces of paper earlier I poke at and stab my food, pushing it around on my plate before eventually eating it. Farkas notices and tries to draw me out of that mood with some success, but I still feel as if one more unnecessary annoying thing happens I’ll spiral into a meltdown. We talk some over dinner and that seems to help, but as the inn fills up for the evening with drinking patrons it becomes increasingly clear it’s time to go home.

Once home I kick my boots off into the nearest corner and sit in the center of the small entry room. Argis the housecarl pokes his head in from an adjoining room and asks if everything is alright. I shoo him away as politely as I can manage and Farkas tells him something quietly which puts him more at ease before he retreats back into the room from whence he came. Having assured the housecarl nothing serious is going on Farkas comes and stands by me, offering a hand to help me up. I refuse it and instead decide to lay on the floor. Not to be deterred, Farkas instead picks me up and begins to head upstairs, wishing Argis goodnight as he does. I do my best to struggle but my attempts prove pointless, eventually I’m let down and told to go take a bath with a gentle push in its direction. I start to ask why but the only explanation I get beyond “because you’re stressed” is a rather cryptic “you’ll see.” as the laces to my dress as easily undone and the fabric pushed off my shoulders before falling to the ground.

The bath is at least relaxing and I’m kept entertained as Farkas sits nearby and tells me of the jobs I have the choice of choosing until I’m finished and dressed again. Three piles are neatly laid out on the desk when I return having gotten dressed once more with the various jobs that had been described to me earlier. I go through and pick one from each pile, it should be a sufficient but not overwhelming amount of work for the week.