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sonsofbal · 4 days

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Chapter V: The Mist Festival pt.2

During Morthal's Mist Festival, Alicent is torn between her budding feelings for Seth and her strained friendship with Joric. As the villagers make their offerings to Magnus for protection, tensions escalate and a sinister omen strikes, throwing the ceremony into uncertainty. With Seth's presence raising suspicions, Alicent begins to wonder if the gods are still watching over them, or if something darker is at play.

Morthal was divided into two parts by the Hjaal River. The villagers gathered to the east of the southern region, next to the house of Falion. It was his duty to preside over the ceremony as Court Wizard. The organizers had set up several rows of wooden benches. As the people took their seats, Falion finished preparing the torch to bless the fire.

By the time the ceremony was under way, night had fallen and the sky was aglow with stars. Alicent felt tiny as she looked up at the firmament; Maser and Secunda were shining overhead on this clear night, and the dawning light was the color of fireflies' thoraxes and butterflies' blue wings.

Looking out at his audience, Falion stood before the bonfire the guard had lit for the occasion. Behind him, willow branches swayed in the breeze, dropping leaves and creating meandering shadows in the air as the cold waters of the Hjaal returned flashes of light.

"Inhabitants of the Hjaalmarch, we gather for another year in commemoration of the deeds of Magnus, architect of Mundus." Phalion turned around in front of the fire. "MAGNUS!" he said, lighting the torch and raising both arms to the sky. “Hear our voice, for this day we commemorate your sacrifice, so that when the mists come and hide us from your eyes, you will remember us!".

Alicent felt sorry for Falion. The wizard was not a crowd person. She could almost feel his discomfort as he faced the audience again. He was a terrible speaker: he dropped his free arm to the side, where it would remain until the end of the monologue, and proceeded to recount for the umpteenth time the confrontation that Magnus and Molag Bal had had right there in the Shire of Hjaal, according to the legends.

Falion went on with the telling of the legend. The family of the Jarl took up the front row, and Alicent caught Joric looking in their direction. She was in the back row, next to Seth, and from there she had a good view of everyone. There were people she didn't know well, outsiders who only came to Morthal for supplies or, on days like this, Magnus' blessing.

Alicent's eyes searched for his mother and found her beside Thonnir. They've been spending a lot of time together lately, she thought, watching them lean in to exchange comments. Her attention shifted back to Seth; he seemed to be engrossed in the story Falion was telling.

"Molag Bal's roots in our realm run deep. When the lord of domination and slavery first set foot in these lands, Tamriel was young. It was on this occasion that the cruel Daedra taunted Arkay after the taking of the soul of Lamae Beolfag, the first daughter of the night.

Alicent leaned over to Seth.

"It's a reference to vampires. According to the stories, Lamae was living in this region at the time she met Molag Bal," she explained, trying her best to impress him.

"I've heard of that," he replied without looking at her. Still, Alicent appreciated that he managed to smile, amused.

"Not content with the transgression," Falion raised his voice, struggling to make himself heard over the murmuring of the people and the rushing of the river, "Molag Bal decided to outwit Arkay once more, twisting the magic of Tamriel to give his followers the power to kidnap the souls of those who died. The power to enslave them and thus prevent them from passing on to the afterlife.”

"Now he's talking about Necromancers," Alicent commented in a new attempt to get his attention. But Seth completely ignored her again.

Alicent let out a small sigh. She was beginning to wonder if she had done something wrong.

"You think anything he says is true?" Seth asked abruptly.

The question startled her. She had heard the story hundreds of times before, but she had never stopped to ask herself if there was any truth to it at all.

"Well... I don't know." She confessed.

"Come on, you must have an opinion about it. Do you think it is true?" Seth insisted. He leaned toward her without looking away from Falion.

Alicent shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess so. I mean... If someone doesn't make their offerings, bad things happen."

This got the attention of Seth, who looked directly at her and turned his body in her direction. Alicent mimicked his pose as well.

"What sort of bad things?" asked Seth.

"Laelette didn't make her offerings last year." She whispered.

"It is my understanding that Laelette has left of her own free will," he replied.

Alicent searched the crowd again for his mother. When he found her, she stared at Thonnir and Virkmund, the young son the man had had with Laelette.

"Yeah, but... I dunno. It still feels strange.

Seth's face twisted. Suddenly, he seemed defensive.

"What's so strange about it?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't know. It's strange, that's all," Alicent replied, feeling uncomfortable, "I find it hard to believe she would leave her son for a war she never mentioned. Plus, that's happened before..."

Alicent rubbed his shoulder uncomfortably. She looked away, her eyes misting over.

"Was it someone important to you?" Seth asked after a short silence, softening his tone.

"My father..." Alicent's voice cracked.

"Wow. I'm sorry I mentioned that," Seth said after a moment, sincerely. "Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from the story."

"That's okay. I know this story by heart," she replied, tucking hair behind her ear.

Seth's gaze was on Falion for a moment before his attention returned to her.

"I'd rather hear it from you then."

That made Alicent smile a little.

"I don't know if that would be a good idea. I'm not a very good storyteller," she hesitated.

"Worse than Falion? I don't think so.”

Alicent looked down shyly, but a smile escaped her lips. Seth's hand caught her chin and forced her to raise it. He didn't have to say anything else, his smile and the way he looked at her encouraged Alicent to speak.

"Magnus did not like Molag Bal's use of magic, nor did he like the fact that he was challenging Arkay again, so he stepped into the body of one of his followers to confront him and his army. Though Magnus defeated him and banished him, Molag Bal managed to gouge out his eye during the battle. That is why the mist has covered Morthal for months. And that is why the flame of the torch is blessed today, so that it will see us today and protect us from his followers when the mist comes".

Seth remained thoughtful after hearing the story, his eyes fixed on the torch Falion held.

"I think I should do some more reading on the local legends," he turned his head back to her. "What would you recommend I read?"

Alicent nodded toward the Jarl's family and shook her head. Joric hurried to look forward.

"Ask Idgrod. She's the book person."

Seth nodded and looked forward again. Falion was just at the end of the story of the battle between Magnus and Molag Bal. It had been the end of a war, more than a battle. Alicent felt that she had not explained the events very well after listening to the wizard for a few minutes.

"Why is he looking at us like that?" Seth suddenly asked in a low voice.

Alicent followed his gaze and caught Joric looking in her direction once more. This time she noticed the look in his eyes. He seemed annoyed. Angry.

"Don't worry about Joric," Alicent murmured, in an attempt to play it down. "He's probably just wondering what we're talking about."

"When I first met him, he looked at me that way, too. I think he was upset that his mother suggested Idgrod and I might spend time together." He said matter-of-factly.

Alicent looked at him, startled.

"Oh," she murmured with poorly concealed disappointment. "I thought it was because of me. He seemed very angry when I told them about..."

Seth waited for her to continue, and Alicent blushed, aware that she had spoken out of turn.

"About me?" Seth asked, before he changed his tone of voice to a more light-hearted one. "I guess there are not too many strangers who come to this place."

"Not too many," Alicent confirmed, without taking her eyes off of the fire. "And you're the first who stays."

"It's not a bad place," he admitted. Alicent followed Seth's gaze. It was on her friend. "Perhaps I should take the jarl's suggestion into consideration."

"To spend time with Idgrod?" she asked, in dismay.

"To settle here. It doesn't have to be with Idgrod."

Alicent turned her head quickly in his direction and then jerked it back to the front at almost the same speed, as if she had done it by accident. At a loss for words, she pointed his chin in the direction of the campfire in an attempt to get Seth to turn his attention back to the ceremony.

Falion had already finished the tale, so he left the torch on a metal stand next to the table where he had everything ready for the preparation of the offerings of the people of Morthal. Falion placed a bowl and a candle on the table, lit the candle with the blessed flame from the torch, and poured a little melted wax into the bowl to stick the candle to the bowl.

"Magnus, today I light this candle in your name in prayer for your protection. And I offer this parchment to Julianos, that he may be my keeper when your eyes are not upon me."

Falion carefully placed the scroll in the bowl. With the sacrifice complete, he approached the Hjaal River. He bent down and placed the bowl in the water. The wizard's sacrifice began to drift slowly away from him, buffeted by the river.

The murmur of the people of the Shire rose a few notes, and as soon as the Earl stood up, many of them began to imitate her. The second to make the sacrifice was always Idgrod Ravencrone. Then each person in the county had to wait their turn for the sorcerer to prepare their offering and make their request to the Aedra.

“Do you think she likes me?” Seth asked out of the blue, innocently.

Alicent looked around to see who he was referring to. Alva was standing a few pews ahead. She said something to Benor and approached the offering table, around which a circle had already formed.

"Alva?" Seth nodded, and her brow furrowed. "You're too late. She's already with Benor."

Seth continued to look at Alva, and Alicent stomped a little, trying to get his attention back.

"You know?" she said in an attempt at a change of subject. "Mom says I'll inherit the Taumaturgist Hut. "

"Really?" Seth asked amused. "And are you going to give me a discount?"

"You might not even pay..."

She stopped looking at him in embarrassment when Seth burst out laughing. Apart from the two of them, there were only a couple of other couples sitting on the benches. Most of the neighbors were chatting animatedly around the fire, waiting for their turn to make offerings. Joric emerged from the crowd and made his way to where they were.

Alicent stood to greet her friend, taking the offering from his lap. Standing next to her, Seth did the same.

"Joric, have you made your offering?" asked Alicent, greeting Joric.

Joric glanced at Seth, then shook his head. He had a childish, shy, hopeful expression on his face. Joric's hair was a shade of ash brown, and though he always wore it short and messy, he had tried to comb it on this particular day.

"I was expecting that we could make our offerings together this year," he suggested, hope shining in his eyes.

Just like Seth, Alicent couldn't take her eyes off of him either. But not because Joric looked so beautiful, but because he looked as if a cow had licked the top of his head.

"Sure. Seth, would you like to join us?" She invited him, trying to shyly comb her hair with her fingers, wondering if she looked ridiculous to him, too.

"I was talking about us. You and me," Joric emphasized. "I don't want to have to make my annual offerings with a stranger."

"Oh, come on now, Joric. Don't be mean." She protested, holding out her hand to Seth. "Join us..." she asked.

This brought a smile to the boy who took her hand. The three approached the offering area. There were quite a few people scattered around the area, although most of them were huddled around the table. The three teenagers moved away from the group after realizing that they would have to wait quite a while for their turn.

"What did you think of Falion's speech?" was Joric's question.

Alicent noticed a certain amount of resentment in the question and frowned.

"I don't know. It was fine... like every year."

Joric's lip curled into a pucker. It was clear he was angry.

"Really? Did you really listen to anything? Because I saw the two of you talking the whole time."

Being addressed like that in front of Seth annoyed her. Alicent opened her mouth to speak, but Seth was quicker than her.

"Alice has been explaining your customs to me. It's good to have someone here who has an education," he reproached coolly.

The reply hit Joric like a bucket of cold water. He glared defiantly at Seth and clenched his fists.

"Do you have a problem with me, Athan?" he asked.

Seth put a hand on top of his head and reached out with his fingers to massage his temples. Alicent sensed an irritated smile behind his hand. He let out a sigh and then stared out into the crowd. Alicent followed where he looked, stopping to look at the torch. The breeze had been on the rise and was rippling the flame. From time to time, Falion raised his arm to light a candle to add to another offering.

"Me?" Seth snapped back, suddenly determined to have a confrontation with Joric. "It seems you're the one with the problem. If you want to talk about it privately..." He challenged.

Joric furrowed his brow and looked at Alicent. She raised her arms in a denial, but Joric stuck out his chest and turned to face Seth.

"Gladly, Athan. Follow me."

Joric walked along the river, in search of the rocks and bushes that would hide them from the rest of the group. As she tried to talk some sense into them, Seth followed.

"Guys, don't be stupid. It's a party, there's no reason to fight." Alicent was on their heels, her attempts at dissuasion in vain.

"What's your problem, Imberbe Raven?" began Seth as soon as they were far enough away.

Alicent could imagine Joric's cheeks flushing at the comment, despite the darkness.

"What did you just call me, Athan?" he asked, closing the distance between them in such a shrill tone that Alicent felt as if he was going to strike Seth.

A white, glowing energy burst out of Seth's fingers and wrapped itself around his hands.

"Joric, stop..." Alicent demanded, trying to get between the two of them so she could face her friend. But Joric gently pushed her away so he could face Seth once more.

"You are my problem, Athan. I don't like you."

Seth raised his eyebrows.

He said: "I didn't do anything to you, kid. That's your problem, not mine, if you can't handle your jealousy."

Joric's aggressiveness did not seem to intimidate Seth at all. Preparing to intervene if necessary, Alicent held her breath. Luckily, Joric just grimaced.

"You have a false look to me, Athan. I don't like the way you look, or the way you talk, or the way you act. And I don't like the way you hang around with Alicent all the time, either," he spat before spitting in front of Seth's feet.

Seth's reaction was a pout of disgust.

"How vulgar," Seth merely commented, with as much contempt as coldness in his voice. "Is that how Earl Idgrod raises his kids?"

"In Morthal, we have Morthal ways. We don't need some hairdo from the city to tell us how to behave!" exclaimed Joric like a spring.

"Think twice before talking about hairstyles, kid."

Joric looked at Alicent, looking for support, but she was slow to react, hiding a nervous laugh after Seth's last comment.

“Boys," she interrupted, wanting to keep things from escalating any further, "We should come back. There's no need to…”

Suddenly, interrupting her words and frightening her, the wind roared over their heads. Though there was a glow of fire behind the rocks that served as a windbreak, only the fire of the torch was blessed. The flowers in her hands were a reminder to Alicent that she had not yet made her offering.

"We definitely ought to..."

"Maybe it was a mistake to come, Alicent." Seth cut her off. "It's clear I'm spoiling some people's party."

Seth's words hit her like arrows in the chest. Because of this stupid fight, he didn't enjoy the festival at all and he wanted to leave. Seth was on his way out, but Alicent grabbed his arm.

"I'm not going to let you go because of Joric."

"I don't understand why you are on his side," Joric complained in frustration.

"Because, unlike you, Seth has shown a respect for our traditions. And you... You're acting out of jealousy." She accused Joric. Alicent didn't even think about how her friend felt because she was so angry with him.

Joric looked at her, hurt. He let out a dejected sigh.

"Do what you want, Alicent." He kicked over a stone and started to walk away from them.

"Thank you," Seth said, whispering.

Alicent smiled and looked into his eyes, where she was once again in the grip of his gaze. Seth released her hand and slowly brought it closer to his face, an intimate atmosphere suddenly created between them. He was on the verge of touching her cheek when he heard Idgrod's voice in the distance, interrupting the moment.

“JORIC!”

The sound of the scream was just like all the times Idgrod had seen Joric on the verge of injury. Alicent's eyes were on the lookout for Joric, who was already on his way back to the party. Joric approached his sister and they began to talk. Not long after, he turned to Alicent in alarm. To hurry her along, he raised both arms and waved them in the air.

Alicent crossed the path of the river bank at a fast pace until she reached the two of them. She saw that Falion was not alone in preparing the sacrifices as she peered over the rocks. The neighbors were hurrying to make their own sacrifices. They could see that the torch fire was dying with every shift of the wind. Alicent and Joric looked at each other, panicked.

The two ran. Joric was picking up two bowls when Alicent reached the table. The wind blew another backhand, and the torch went out over their heads, leaving the two of them in complete silence. Them and everyone else there.

A louder and louder whisper spread along the banks of the Hjaal. Finally, Brelas, a dark elf who lives in a hut northwest of Skyrim, said out loud what everyone was thinking.

"This must be a bad omen for us."

Brelas was standing at the table and had not yet made his offerings, either. Alicent dropped her flowers, discouraged. Then fear gripped her. She was not the only one; there were a number of voices, and she could even hear a few tears.

Just in time to see him run towards Seth, she glanced over to Joric after remembering that he hadn't done it either.

"This is your fault, Athan." He accused.

Seth, who had been walking calmly in their direction, stopped in his tracks and crossed his arms over his chest. When Joric reached him, he shoved him, making him stumble. Seth stumbled and regained his footing with no pretense of self-defense.

"Me? It was you who started the fight."

Idgrod quickened her pace with Alicent at her heels. She stepped between them.

"Leave it, Joric!" She ordered. "Mom wants to see you."

"She's going to kill me," Joric cursed, running a hand through his hair.

Joric turned his back on them and walked away, and Idgrod gave him a farewell glance before following him. Up until that moment, Alicent hadn't even noticed that the people were looking at them. As she listened to the whispers, she understood why.

"It can't be a coincidence that the boy arrives first and then the torch goes out," Uthna commented to her husband Hroggar.

She turned to Seth, worried about how he was going to take this, and was surprised to find that he was looking elsewhere. She followed his gaze and found that Falion's gaze was on him, heavy with doubt. Alicent pretended not to notice when Seth turned his eyes back to her.

"Are you feeling all right?" Seth asked, his head cocked sideways. "You seem worried."

"I..." she murmured with slumped shoulders and a few tears in her eyes, "My offering..."

"It was my fault." Seth said regretfully. He grabbed her shoulder, pulled her to his body and hugged her. "I'm so sorry. I promise I won't let anything harm you."

In any other situation, that would have cheered her up. But the fear was so intense that she couldn't bring herself to look up. She didn't want him to see her crying like that. Then she heard the worried voice of her own mother behind her back.

"Alicent, my child, please tell me that you have made your offering."

#skyrim #tes art #dark fantasy #dark romance #fanfic #magic #morthal #the elder scrolls #tes #daedric lords #molag bal #aedra #tesblr

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myhandsarentsmudgediusedigital · 2 years

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...what would happen if all the "a canon character is Dragonborn" AUs combined into one universe. Elisif, Joric Ravencrone, Onmund, Hadvar, Tolfdir, Sissel, Lucia, Viarmo, Jarl Balgruuf, Lydia, Idgrod the Younger, a resurrected Martin Septim...

Akatosh: Oprah voice You get a dragon soul! You get a dragon soul! Everybody gets a dragon sou- looks at Ulfric Not you

Anyways if someone would be willing to write this I'd be immensely grateful hbrbrbrb

#Skyrim #akatosh #anti ulfric stormcloak #elisif the fair #onmund #Hadvar #Tolfdir #Lydia

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caelusproject · 2 months

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Joey: Alright, please don't get mad but… are you asking me in a platonic or romantic way?

Clarice: *on one knee, holding an open ring box*

Clarice: Are you fucking serious?

#house of ashes #the dark pictures anthology #clarice stokes #joey gomez #jorice #I just think they're neat #That was a lie I want them to love each other forever and ever!!

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loshijosdebal · 5 months

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Capítulo XX: La Guardia de Myr

Caminó hasta el establo, cabizbajo y arrastrando los pies. Después de lo que acababa de pasar con Alicent, lo único que le daba fuerzas era la posibilidad de encontrar alguna evidencia lo bastante sólida como para desenmascarar a Seth y ganar así el perdón tanto de ella como de su hermana. Se encontró allí a Gorm, el edecán de la familia. Además de velar por su seguridad, Gorm cuidaba del Salón de la Luna Alta y también de los animales que poseían.

—¿A qué viene esa cara larga muchacho? —saludó el nórdico.

Joric se limitó a encogerse de hombros. No tenía ganas de dar explicaciones.

—Un mal día. Voy a dar una vuelta con Tiber, a ver si se me pasa —se justificó mientras se acercaba a su caballo, al cual saludó con una caricia en la crin.

Gorm lo miró vacilante, pero, por suerte, quizá motivado por su mala cara, no puso demasiadas pegas.

—Está bien. Pero vuelve antes de que anochezca o los dos estaremos en un lío.

Joric lo miró y asintió. Se sintió algo mal por él, pero se aferró a la convicción de que, para cuando anocheciera, ya habría regresado a Morthal con las pruebas que necesitaba contra Athan. Al pensar en él cayó en la cuenta de algo que había obviado hasta la fecha; el establo era pequeño y allí solo estaban los caballos de su familia.

—Oye, Gorm, ¿y el caballo de Athan?

El nórdico se rascó la barbilla y luego se encogió de hombros.

—Nunca lo ha dejado aquí.

Joric frunció el ceño. Menudo capullo. Con el frío que hacía, dejar a un animal a la intemperie durante horas no era lo más humano. Como fuera, todavía tenía una misión que cumplir, así que montó sobre Tiber, su purasangre bayo, y tras asegurarle a Gorm que volvería pronto, partió rumbo al Cerro Pedregoso.

Don Dogma tenía razón. La niebla aquel día estaba mucho más dispersa y permitía ver el camino lo suficiente como para poder cabalgar sin miedo a estamparse contra algún risco o terminar perdido en el bosque. Siguió la carretera y en menos de una hora llegó al Cerro. El lugar lo componían tres casas que formaban entre sí una pequeña plaza, frente a la cual estaba la entrada a la mina. Una era una choza de madera y tejado de paja, Joric dedujo que ahí vivían los trabajadores. Luego estaba la casa del matrimonio que regentaba las minas, de piedra y madera, y por último estaba la casa de Seth, la cual había estado en ruinas hasta ese mismo año, pero que ahora se destacaba sobre las tres.

Joric llevó al caballo hasta la plazoleta y, donde desmontó. Los hijos de Sorli y Pactur dejaron de jugar tan pronto lo vieron y un par de ellos salieron corriendo hacia la casa familiar. Los niños lo miraban curiosos, pero no se acercaron aunque él alzó la mano para saludar. Sorli, la mujer de la casa, no tardó en salir a su encuentro.

—Joven lord, ¿ha ocurrido algo? No esperábamos visita.

Joric la miró a los ojos. Sorli tenía exactamente la mirada que esperaba no tener que ver nunca en el rostro de Alicent, cargaba un bebé consigo y tenía una tripa de embarazada tan grande que le dio apuro pensar que podría ponerse de parto en cualquier momento. No recordaba la última vez que había visto a Sorli sin estar encinta.

Apretó los labios mirando a su alrededor, con rabia. Cuatro críos de edades dispares lo miraban con curiosidad. Jesper, que era un par de años mayor que él, se apostó en la entrada de la casa y observó la escena desde allí. Seth había dicho que el Cerro estaba vacío para convencerlos de que su plan era el mejor. ¿Cómo puede ser tan egoísta? Exponer a aquella familia al peligro de los nigromantes solo por hacerse el protagonista parecía muy propio de él.

—Está todo bien, Sorli. Tengo asuntos que tratar con Athan —dijo, relajando la expresión para no preocupar más a la mujer. Sin embargo, notó que ella se tensaba.

—Lord Athan está en las minas con mi marido en este momento, joven lord. Pero… lo puedo hacer llamar.

Notó los nervios en su voz. Mentía. Claro que lo hacía, Seth estaba en Morthal con Idgrod y con Falion. ¿Por qué miente? Casi sintió alivio al darse cuenta del detalle. Durante todo el trayecto se había sentido angustiado ante la posibilidad de no encontrar nada y haber hecho todo aquello en vano, pero la actitud de Sorli era un buen indicio; allí había gato encerrado.

Joric asintió. Miró en dirección a la casa de Seth y se frotó los hombros, dando a entender que tenía frío.

—Gracias, Sorli. Vive ahí, ¿verdad? Lo esperaré en la casa, ¿puedo? Aquí está helado.

La mujer asintió sin pensarlo demasiado.

—Por supuesto, joven lord. Espere un minuto, enseguida vuelvo con la llave.

Sorli se ausentó y Sirgar, que había salido de la casa, se acercó a donde estaba. La chica tenía su misma edad y Joric tenía la sensación de que ella intentaba flirtear con él cada vez que se cruzaban.

—¡Joric! ¿Has venido a visitarnos? No deberías viajar tú solo entre la niebla. Dicen que este año no hiciste tu ofrenda.

—Sirgar —saludó. Encogió un solo hombro, restándole importancia a su comentario—. Athan hace este trayecto casi a diario y él tampoco hizo sus ofrendas.

Ella asintió, con la boca semiabierta, y luego se balanceó sobre sí al mismo tiempo en que apretaba los labios formando un puchero, sin quitarle la mirada de encima pero sin saber qué decir. Sirgar era una muchacha dulce, pero tenía un problema: no era Alicent. Además, tenía la clase de padre que azuzaba a sus hijas para casarse con otros nobles. Se preguntó cómo habría cambiado su vida la llegada de Seth.

—¿Qué tal es vivir con él? Con Seth.

La pregunta pareció cogerla desprevenida.

—Las cosas siguen igual que siempre. Seth no pasa…

Enmudeció tan pronto Joric sintió una presencia a sus espaldas. Se giró y allí estaba el mayor de los hermanos, con la vista clavada en él.

—No pasa demasiado tiempo con nosotros. Está ocupado en las minas con nuestro padre —zanjó.

Joric se dio cuenta de la dureza con la que miró a su hermana. Le recordó a la forma en la que Idgrod le miraba a él cuando estaba a punto de decir algo que no debía. Le hubiera gustado indagar más, pero Sorli salió de la casa con las llaves y se dirigió hacia la casa de Seth. Joric la siguió tras despedirse de los hermanos.

—Póngase cómodo, joven lord. Nuestras minas son amplias y es posible que lord Athan tarde un poco.

Hizo un esfuerzo por parecer neutral y asintió. Tras eso, Sorli volvió a su casa y Joric saboreó la victoria de tener un rato para husmear entre las cosas de Seth. Entró a la vivienda y cerró la puerta tras de sí. Le bastó un rápido vistazo para darse cuenta de que algo no cuadraba. Conociendo a Athan, cabría esperar que viviera en una casa tan ostentosa como lo era él mismo. Sin embargo, por dentro estaba desnuda. Ni una biblioteca, ni un tocador, ni una bañera. Nada. Las estanterías estaban casi vacías, a excepción de un par de libros viejos y algunos frascos de pociones apilados. Cuando se acercó para verlo mejor, se dio cuenta de que el polvo lo cubría todo. Abrió un par de cajones, descubriendo que también estaban vacíos. Lo mismo pasaba con el armario, donde solo encontró unas ropas ajadas que, a juzgar por el tamaño, no podían pertenecer a Seth. Era como si la casa fuera de atrezo. Por descontado, la empuñadura no estaba por ninguna parte.

Aquello no tenía sentido. No había ninguna otra casa deshabitada por la zona; como hijo de la jarl, lo sabía bien. Entonces, ¿dónde vives? La incógnita le empezó a palpitar en la cabeza. Ansioso, se dio cuenta de que había desvelado algo y, sin embargo, no tenía más prueba que su palabra de aquello. Viendo lo indulgentes que podían ser Alicent y su hermana con Seth, tuvo la seguridad de que no darían crédito a lo que él les dijera, y menos en la situación en la que se encontraban.

Con el ceño fruncido siguió buscando algo, casi de forma desesperada. Solo unos minutos más tarde escuchó afuera los cascos de un caballo. Se asomó a la ventana a tiempo de ver a Jesper salir al galope del Cerro. Decidido como estaba a resolver aquel misterio, no dejó pasar la oportunidad. Salió de la casa a paso acelerado y, sin avisar de que se iba, avanzó a zancadas hasta Tiber, montó al animal y siguió la misma ruta que había tomado el chico.

Jesper había seguido el camino que conectaba el Cerro con Morthal. Joric se desanimó al creer que se dirigía rumbo al pueblo para avisar a Seth, pero más o menos a la mitad del trayecto, este se desvió por un nuevo sendero. El camino estaba mal escondido entre dos árboles desnudos que tal vez en otra época del año tendrían las hojas suficientes como para ocultar la vereda que, supuso, llevaría a la auténtica casa de su rival. Te tengo, Athan.

Al poco de seguir el camino, una ola de niebla más espesa que el resto lo envolvió, jugándole una mala pasada y haciendo que perdiera la pista al chico. Siguió avanzando, mucho más despacio que antes, mirando a su alrededor y tratando de buscar alguna pista de por dónde podría haber ido. Fue entonces cuando vio al caballo de Jesper atado al tronco de un árbol cerca del nuevo camino.

Joric desmontó de Tiber y examinó los alrededores. Pronto detectó unas huellas en la nieve. Huellas que se adentraban en el bosque. Respiró hondo, pensando en qué debía hacer. Si aquello no tenía nada que ver con Seth, estaría poniendo en riesgo su vida para nada. Pero, ¿y si sí que lo hacía? Miró al cielo. No quedaba demasiado para el atardecer e, incluso con la niebla dispersa, era peligroso estar a la intemperie cuando cayera la noche. La posibilidad de descubrir el secreto de Athan volvió a su mente y, pese a todos los motivos que encontró por los que no debía hacerlo, siguió las huellas.

Se internó en el bosque. En él, sus botas se hundían en la nieve virgen y la densidad de los árboles hacían que la luz que llegaba fuera mucho menor. No obstante, los pasos por donde Jesper había pasado estaban bien marcados y no tuvo dificultad en seguirlos. Después de varios minutos caminando llegó a una nueva vereda entre los árboles, con la nieve pisada y sin maleza. Era como si hubieran dejado así el tramo previo a propósito para ocultar aquel sendero.

Casi sin darse cuenta, avanzó aferrado a la empuñadura de la espada que colgaba de su cinturón. Las arañas gigantes y los osos eran frecuentes en la comarca. Cuando un cuarto de hora más tarde llegó al final del camino, se sentía afortunado por no haberse cruzado con ninguna bestia salvaje. Pero también sorprendido, pues reconoció el lugar.

Frente a él se encontraba el nacimiento del río Hjaal. Allí, la nieve que bajaba de la montaña se derretía y formaba un gran lago, en cuyo centro había un islote aislado. En dicho islote todavía estaban los restos de la Guardia de Myr, la torre que en su día ocupó el mago legendario que había sido elegido por Magnus para combatir a las fuerzas de Molag. Pero, aunque la torre estaba en ruinas y el islote era inaccesible, Joric comprobó que los pasos salían de la vegetación y se dirigían hacia el lago.

Se quedó agazapado entre la maleza, sin saber qué hacer. No estaba tan loco como para sumergirse en las aguas heladas del Hjaal con aquel frío; se congelaría antes de llegar a Morthal. Además, aunque afinó el oído, no escuchó ningún ruido proveniente del islote. Decidió esperar a que Jesper regresara por donde había venido y, entonces, confrontarlo para que le dijera la verdad. Era la alternativa más viable.

Esperó en la misma posición, aguantando el frío gracias a que se distraía imaginando cómo enfrentaría a Jesper a su regreso cuando, de pronto, sintió una mano sobre el hombro. Se giró como un resorte por el susto y desenvainó la espada como un acto reflejo. Entonces vio a Alva frente a sí y suspiró sonoramente, echando el aire por la boca.

—Alva, no te había escuchado llegar— reprochó con la voz ahogada.

Resopló varias veces hasta recobrar la compostura y la miró. Ella lo contemplaba de un modo extraño. Parecía disgustada, pero no era el disgusto característico de siempre, sino que tenía otro matiz. Uno que no supo entender.

—¿Qué haces aquí? —preguntó al ver que no decía nada.

Alva alzó ambas cejas con una expresión de cinismo.

—Qué curioso, eso mismo te iba a preguntar yo —replicó.

Una vez recuperado del susto se puso firme, sin perderla de vista. Volvió a envainar la espada y frunció el ceño, recordando las veces que la había visto hablando con Seth en susurros entre las casas de Morthal. También pensó en Benor, en cómo el nórdico había seguido disgustado aún después de que Alva hubiera vuelto de su viaje. Desde entonces no los había vuelto a ver en pareja, como era frecuente antes de que ella se fuera y enfermase.

—Tienes algo con Athan, ¿no es así? Debí suponerlo, tiene sentido. Por eso Benor y tú habéis roto.

La mirada de Alva se endureció. Se tocó el interior de la mejilla con la lengua. Ahora estaba enfadada y, sin embargo, su mirada seguía teniendo el mismo deje indescifrable de antes. Parecía culpa, pero no era exactamente eso.

—Ojalá fuera tan simple, Joric. Ven, sígueme —dijo de pronto, con voz cansada.

Alva siguió los pasos de Jesper y se acercó a la orilla del lago. Joric la siguió de cerca, sin entender nada. Tenía tantas preguntas que formular que se le estaban amontonando en la garganta y, sin embargo, en su pecho nació una sensación de peligro que lo dejó mudo, como si su instinto intentara avisarlo de algo. Si no fuera porque la conocía desde que era un crío, habría salido corriendo.

—Creo que deberíamos volver… —empezó, arrepintiéndose de haber hecho todo aquello.

Alva ladeó la cabeza y negó. Alzó ambas manos en dirección al lago y de las aguas del Hjaal brotó un puente natural de piedra. Alva esperó al pie de este y le hizo una seña para que avanzara él primero.

—Debes haberte tomado tus molestias para encontrar este sitio, ¿no tienes curiosidad por saber qué es?

Joric titubeó, pero Alva tenía razón. Había llegado demasiado lejos para echarse atrás ahora. Fuera lo que fuese que había en aquellas ruinas, pretendía descubrirlo. El hecho de que Alva estuviera al tanto le hizo relajarse, pensar que fuera lo que fuese, debía de haber alguna explicación lógica.

Tan pronto cruzó el puente, ocurrió algo magnífico. Como si hubiera cruzado un velo de ilusión, la imagen de las ruinas antiguas que se veían desde fuera del islote cambió por completo. Ante sí, la Guardia de Myr se alzaba en todo su antiguo esplendor. Era una torre redonda bastante elegante, de varios pisos de altura.

Alva cruzó tras él. Una vez ambos estuvieron en el islote, las piedras que les dieron acceso volvieron a hundirse en el lago.

—¿Ha reconstruido las ruinas?

Alva asintió. Una vez se le pasó la fascinación, no pudo evitar rodar los ojos.

—Típico de Athan. No podía vivir en una casa normal y corriente como todo el mundo —farfulló.

El muy imbécil había tenido que restaurar una torre mítica para convertirla en sus aposentos. Pues él no estaba dispuesto a consentirlo. La torre tenía un valor histórico demasiado importante como para que ese relamido la usase para su propio beneficio. Además, no podía apropiarse aquellas ruinas así como así, ya que pertenecían a su familia.

—Pronto lo entenderás todo, Joric —se limitó a decir ella, dejándolo confuso.

Alva se acercó a la puerta y la abrió. Una vez más, le cedió el paso. Joric entró a la torre, mirando todo con curiosidad. El interior era mucho más amplio de lo que parecía desde fuera, supuso que por obra de la magia. Joric intentó quedarse con los detalles de cuanto veía. Había una pared redonda concéntrica a los muros exteriores de la torre que dividía el espacio en una zona exterior y otra interior. En la pared un arco de piedra daba lugar a una sala donde se escuchaba la voz de varias personas. Apenas pudo ver lo que había en el círculo exterior al avanzar hacia la sala, ya que Alva lo azuzó para que avanzara hasta el salón central, pero distinguió una mesa de encantamientos y también otra que no supo reconocer, pero que parecía de bastones de mago.

Joric cruzó el arco de piedra. La sala central estaba iluminada por una esfera azul misteriosa que flotaba sobre las cabezas de los allí presentes, a quienes pudo ver bien por primera vez. Uno era Jesper, había otro hombre al que no conocía y se le heló la sangre al reconocer a la desaparecida Lalette.

—¿Lalette? ¿Qué haces aquí? Se supone que tú estabas con los Capas… —enmudeció de pronto, al imaginar una nueva teoría. Se giró, lanzando una mirada acusatoria a Alva —¿Así que de esto va todo? ¿De política? ¿Athan apoya a Ulfric?

La sorpresa de su voz era sincera, nunca hubiera imaginado que Athan estaba en el bando de Ulfric. Si hubiera tenido que posicionarlo en la guerra, probablemente lo hubiera imaginado del lado de los imperiales. Joric conocía a bastantes nórdicos como para saber que a él le considerarían un bebedor de leche entre sus filas.

Miró nuevamente a Alva, que se pellizcaba el puente de la nariz y negaba, como si hubiera dicho una tontería. Luego volvió a mirar a Lalette, molesto porque nadie le estuviera dando ni una sola respuesta, solo nuevas dudas que sumar a todas las que ya tenía. Vio que Lalette se quedaba mirando al hombre desconocido, quien se levantó de la mesa con parsimonia.

Debía ser de la edad de sus padres, pero era mucho más fuerte y, además, estaba completamente calvo.

—Lo pillé husmeando entre la maleza —explicó Alva—. Debe de haber seguido al chico.

Jesper clavó la mirada en la mesa de forma sumisa.

—Se suponía que esperaría en el Cerro… —se justificó. Luego lanzó a Joric una mirada. Aunque esta contenía una acusación, se parecía un poco a la de Alva—. ¿Por qué tuviste que seguirme?

El desconocido se acercó hasta él y le puso una mano sobre el hombro. Era una mano pesada, y le dedicó una mirada tan amenazante que Joric se tensó.

—Así que el joven hijo de la jarl ha decidido hacernos una visita —se rió.

Aunque tenía una risa gutural que le puso la piel de gallina, Joric se obligó a mantener la compostura y, aunque estaba intimidado, fingió no estarlo y le mantuvo la mirada.

—¿Nos conocemos? No me suena tu cara —dijo Joric.

—¿Debería?

—Todas las personas que estén viviendo en Morthal necesitan la aprobación previa de la jarl… —apuntó sin demasiada convicción, intentando mantener la fachada de seguridad.

El hombre estiró una sonrisa apretada.

—En ese caso, supongo que nunca es tarde para una presentación formal. Mi nombre es Movarth. Movarth Piquine.

Parpadeó un par de veces tras escucharlo, reprimiendo las ganas de rodar los ojos. Como si fuera estúpido. Ya conocía ese nombre: Movarth Piquine era el protagonista de Sangre Inmortal, un libro bastante popular en la Marca de Hjaal. Joric se lo había leído hacía un par de años, cuando tuvo que pasar una semana sin andar por culpa de una mala caída del caballo. Contaba la historia de Movarth, un entrenador del Gremio de Luchadores que se dedicaba a cazar vampiros y que acabó cayendo en la trampa de un vampiro cyrodiílico.

—Si, claro —bufó, molesto ante la broma—. Y yo soy la reina Barenziah.

En ese momento la sonrisa de Movarth se ensanchó y sus dientes se alargaron, volviéndose puntiagudos. Joric sintió cómo la sangre se le congelaba. Quiso gritar, pero hasta su voz se paralizó ante el miedo que sintió al ser consciente de que estaba ante un vampiro. No, ante un nido de vampiros. Como explicaba el libro de Sangre Inmortal, los vampiros cyrodiílicos se caracterizaban por su capacidad para pasar desapercibidos entre los humanos. Miró a Lalette y luego a Alva, reparando por primera vez en que están más pálidas que de costumbre. Volvió a mirar a Movarth, quien le devolvió la mirada con burla.

—Es todo un placer, su majestad.

#fanfic #skyrim #darkromance #libros #magia #morthal #vampiros #tes #the elder scrolls #fanfiction en español #myrwatch

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mirmizuki · 1 year

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~ 𝓢𝓹𝔂𝔁𝓕𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵𝔂 ~

Super happy with the shots from my recent SpyxFamily shoot! Currently editing, will post more soon!

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Photographer - Jorics Photography on FB

Edit - @mirpurrphotography

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Loid Forger - Josiah Licerio

Anya Forger - Skyla Sophia Dela Cruz

Yor Forger - Mir Mizuki Cosplay

Yuri Briar - Oliver Jayson

Sylvia Sherwood - Hashuii Zenuer

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#spy x family #spy x family cosplay #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #yuri briar #sylvia sherwood #cosplay #cosplay group #loid forger cosplay #yor forger cosplay

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cass1x1 · 11 months

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candy bracelet, scratched cd, instant messenger | jo, noah, paige, charlie!

@gerrykecy

candy bracelet — does your muse prefer chocolate, hard candy or chewy candy? do they even like sweets at all?

hmm i think she likes sour candy best! like chewy sour belts or sour rings or whatever shape sour gummies. she does like sweets in general.

scratched cd — what genre of music does your muse hate? if someone happens to turn on that genre, will they tolerate it or leave the room?

hate? i'm not sure there's a genre jo hates. maybe, like, screamy metal? nu metal? anything with that super vocal-fry-y vocals irritates her. but she wouldn't be like "i hate that" she just wouldn't choose it. and if you put it on she won't say shit.

instant messenger — if it’s not already taken, what is your muse’s go-to username?

sdgfsed risre212 is her go-to. she's thought about just changing all her shit to, like, jorice (her full name) but it's a lot of work to change over a brand.

noah

candy bracelet — does your muse prefer chocolate, hard candy or chewy candy? do they even like sweets at all?

i was too lazy to review Lore but if i recall, he's not a huge sweets person. he likes them enough but he isn't a sweet-tooth or anything. his favorite are like odd candies. ginger chews. things like that.

scratched cd — what genre of music does your muse hate? if someone happens to turn on that genre, will they tolerate it or leave the room?

noah doesn't like country v much. he's just like....doesn't get it. he won't leave if someone puts it on but he will, like, make catty comments in hopes they'll change it.

instant messenger — if it’s not already taken, what is your muse’s go-to username?

according to the Lore, it's nowoen (like no one) and that's been it since his emo phase in high school. love this for us.

paige

candy bracelet — does your muse prefer chocolate, hard candy or chewy candy? do they even like sweets at all?

i think she prefers hard candies? like something she can suck on or have for a long time. but she also enjoys like a good truffle. rich dark chocolate.

scratched cd — what genre of music does your muse hate? if someone happens to turn on that genre, will they tolerate it or leave the room?

paige is picky! doesn't like a lot of things. no prog rock, no metal of any sort, no EDM, and so on.... and she will absolutely be like "can you turn that the fuck off?"

instant messenger — if it’s not already taken, what is your muse’s go-to username?

probably something boring like paigemcdermott or paigemcder or something. she's so uninteresting!

charlie

candy bracelet — does your muse prefer chocolate, hard candy or chewy candy? do they even like sweets at all?

charlie is a chocolates girl 10000%. she all candy but chocolate is her thing.

scratched cd — what genre of music does your muse hate? if someone happens to turn on that genre, will they tolerate it or leave the room?

anything loud if robbie is sleeping! otherwise she's got basic bitch music taste so anything too weird and she'll be like "oh that's....interesting." but she's tolerant.

instant messenger — if it’s not already taken, what is your muse’s go-to username?

esfdgffsd i cannot find her blog name but that! or just like charlieats. nowadays she often also does like charlienelson so her socials are easy to find when she's doing professional shit.

#answered #gerrykecy #ch: paige #ch: charlie #ch: jo #ch: noah #answered memes

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glitchbitchwritingblog · 1 year

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Introducing some of my Skyrim Ocs!

Name: Verona the Brute

Age:27

Race:Nord

Personality: Serious and rather stoic,no nonsense person. Usually focused on her quests,quiet.

Backstory: Verona was born in the small town of Rorikstead to a couple of Travelling Merchants. The first 10 years of her life involved moving from place to place constantly. Her mother taught her to read a write,while her father taught her tricks of the trade. When she was 11,her mother died in a bandit raid and her father was seriously injured,Verona herself was kidnapped by the bandits after being knocked out trying to defend her unconscious father. The Bandit leader,a man known as Joric the Cruel,forcibly made Verona his Apprentice of sorts. He found her Spiteful and stubborn attitude interesting. He lived up to his name,though there were moments where some softness showed through. The first year Verona lived with the bandits,beatings were often and swift,After each one Joric would tend to her wounds and speak softly,almost fatherly,to her. He would often call her his little Sabre Cat/Kitten for short. Verona was taught how to fight by the bandits and they tried to raise her to be one of them. Life with them was hard,and often Verona missed her family,but she learned quickly running away was not an option.

When Verona turned 14,she had her period for the first time,one of the bandits,a woman named Svani, helped her clean up and explained what was happened. The woman also explained that now that Verona Had bled,that she would be considered a woman and that the men in the camp and in the rest of the world would try to make her their wife,mistress,or simply bed her,and that some men would not take no as an answer. Svani gave Verona a dagger and told her to use it to cut the throat of any man that tried to,but that if the man was stronger than her and disarmed her,to close her eyes and relax her body so as to avoid unneccassary pain or even death. By that Age Verona Had grown to have a shapely figure,and as Svani had warned,many of the men in the camp began to try and get her in their beds. Joric was one of those men.

When Verona was 15,Joric bedded her. She knew if she rejected his advances for too long,he would no doubt force himself on her anyway,so she gave into his advances. He was experienced in bedroom affairs and her first time was one where he used every trick he knew. He would take her again and again,sometimes he would take her multiple times a night. Physically it felt great,but mentally Verona hated every second. This would continue until she was 17,when she noticed she had missed multiple periods. She had been impregnated by a man she hated more than anything. When she told Joric, he was…...overjoyed to say the least. Boasting later that night how he had bred her good. He would then propose marriage to Verona,and she knew better than to turn him down. He kidnapped a preist of Mara and they were wed. He released the preist of Mara but luckily Verona was able to have the man smuggle a note to the guards in the nearby hold of Whiterun. Verona would give birth to a Little boy who would be named after his father 3 months later. She loved her son,she did,but she struggled to show it and to bond with him. She feared that the rest of her life would involve having baby after baby and having no choice but to watch them be raised into banditry.

A month after her son was born,3 Companions,Villas,Farkas,and Aela would raid the bandit hideout and kill nearly all of the bandits,Joric being one of them much to the releif of Verona. Vilkas was the one to found her and her son,and that would be the one and only time he would see her cry. She was releived to finally be free of the bandits who had taken so much from her.

She and her son,whose name she changed to Kond, were brought back to Whiterun where she was given a bath,hot meal,some clothes,and was tended to by the temple priestess. Hulda let her sleep at the Tavern for free until she could find a job or get in contact with any family.

It took a year but on her 18th Birthday she found her father and moved in with him. He had searched for her for many years and wept when he saw and learned of the life she was made to live after being kidnapped all those years ago. He doted on his grandson and spared no expense on making up for lost time.

Five years later,Verona was now 23,her father would pass away. He left her 2 homes,one in the forests of Falkreath and One inside the walls of Whiterun. He Also left her plenty of gold,enough so that she would never have to work. She chose to move back to Whiterun and hired a nanny,3 guards,a cook,a Maid,and 2 tutors for her son as she decided to join the Companions. While she had lived w her father,she wasn't idle. She practiced and learned how to fight,how to wield a 2 handed battle axe with ease and move in heavy armor. She Had taken bounties and killed endless amounts of bandits and other creatures,and she was good at what she did.

She was permitted to join and proved to be good at her job,she was merciless to bandits of any kind,often over doing it when it came to making them dead.

When she turned 27,she was asked to get the dragonstone for the court wizard. She did and then helped fell the dragon that attacked the tower. There she found out she was Dragonborn,and was made Thane of Whiterun. She found Tally after she decided to take just a couple weeks to wander around after such news,and found Kaidan and Lucien after hearing about a guy kidnapped by thalmor and about a man looking to adventure. Now she's on her way to become the best dragonborn she can be.

#skyrim #skyrim taliesin #skyrim oc #tw:SA #tw:sexual assault

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