I woke up inside my friend's video game

Nikolai and I indulged in the mead, relishing the warmth that spread through our bodies with each sip. The fire crackled nearby, casting flickering shadows that mirrored the merriment in our hearts.

As the night wore on, the mead flowed freely, laughter filling the air. Nikolai, usually the life of the party, finally reached his limit, a contented smile resting on his lips as he slouched against the wall.

Seeing his state, I couldn't resist a self-deprecating remark, recalling a wild night of revelry back in El Nido. "If you're aiming to get me drunk…" I paused for dramatic effect, grabbing another bottle of mead and popping it open with a satisfying clink. "You'll have to keep trying all night!" I raised the bottle in a mock toast, the amber liquid sloshing inside.

A burst of laughter escaped me, the alcohol loosening my tongue and inhibitions. Maybe it would drown the aching void left by Erica's absence.

The mead packed a punch, warmth coursing through my veins, clouding my senses. The world spun in a delightful haze as my grip on reality teetered on the edge.

Then, the door creaked open.

A figure entered. My vision swam as I struggled to focus on the newcomer. A woman stood in the dim light of Breezehome, fair-skinned with long blonde hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of silk. The flickering candlelight caught the sapphire hue of her eyes—mischief and kindness interwoven in their depths.

She wore a miner's outfit, similar to Nikolai's, yet she carried herself with a grace that made the simple attire seem regal. Despite the dust clinging to her, her form was accentuated in a way that made her rugged yet strikingly alluring.

As she moved closer, her expression suddenly changed. Her features contorted, anger flashing across her face. "Who are you two, and what are you doing in our house?"

Her voice cut through the drunken haze muddling my thoughts. Wait—did she just say our house?

I straightened, trying to steady my swirling vision. "Look, Miss—"

"It's Mrs*" she corrected sharply, her tone icy. "Sylgja. Wife of Whiterun's Thane, Malik."

My heart skipped a beat. Malik? The Thane of Whiterun? This couldn't be happening.

Before I could explain, Sylgja's glare hardened. "If you don't leave right now, I'll call the guards and have you both thrown in jail."

Panic surged through me, sobering me up just enough to grasp the gravity of the situation. I glanced at Nikolai—completely useless, too deep in his drunken stupor to do anything but blink blearily at the furious woman.

"Wait!" I raised my hands in a placating gesture. "We didn't break in, I swear. Malik—your husband—he let us in."

Sylgja's expression faltered, her anger flickering into uncertainty. "Malik never mentioned anything about guests."

Before I could answer, the door creaked open again, and Malik stepped in, his expression grim. "Sylgja, my love, I need to explain—"

Sylgja whirled on him, arms crossed. "Malik, why didn't you tell me we had strangers sleeping in our home?"

Malik hesitated, his gaze shifting between his wife and us. "I didn't want to worry you. I thought these two could help."

Sylgja let out an exasperated sigh, her stance softening slightly. "Help with what, exactly?"

Malik cleared his throat. "They… they're travelers. And soon, they'll be part of the Legion."

Sylgja blinked, skepticism creeping into her features. "These two?"

Malik hesitated. "They need more training, but trust me, they'll be an asset."

She studied us for a long moment, then finally nodded. "Fine. But this discussion isn't over, Malik." Her voice dropped, irritation lingering. "And speaking of unfinished things—what about our honeymoon? You promised me a trip to Solitude."

Malik's face fell, realization hitting him. "Of course, my love. We'll leave as soon as possible. I promise."

Sylgja sighed, shaking her head before turning back to us. "I suppose I owe you both an apology for earlier." She crossed her arms. "Welcome, then. Make yourselves comfortable. There's a lot we need to talk about."

The tense atmosphere melted away, replaced by the crackling warmth of the hearth. Breezehome, once a battleground of accusations, now felt like a refuge again.

I slumped against my chair, exhaling a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. At least we weren't getting thrown in jail tonight.

I caught Nikolai grinning, still drunkenly oblivious to the chaos we had barely escaped.