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jadienjaystoriesandart · 4 years

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Song of the Dragonborn- Chapter 3: The Companions

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Thomas wanted to hide in on himself more than anything else, him, dragonborn!? And to head out to these graybeards? He shook his head, it sounded crazy, it was downright dizzying to think about. Capable as he was, he wasn’t a hero! Thomas bit his lower lip, sure he could fight alright, but he only got lucky with that dragon. How was he suppose to be anything more than just a guy on his way to Solitude.

He supposed he could just head to Solitude and put this whole thing behind him. But, something twisted in his gut at that. The thought of Helgan, of all those people. Thomas shook his head again, if he was to make this journey he wanted to be ready. He wasn’t hiding, just training. His eyes gazed from the bridge to the upside down boat of what was known as the Companions. Mayhaps? Taking a breath he made his way down the stairs heading over the bridges to the area. He gazed up at the building, taking a breath as he walked up and inside into the comfortable air inside. The scent of food made his mouth water, he hadn’t ate much on his travels but he shook his head trying not to think about it.

To his left he watched two people get into a fist fight, and felt very awkward. As he watched someone tapped his shoulder, he turned to see a women, long red hair and war paint on her face. She was clearly nord by her features, but she also looked very capable. “New blood eh?” she asked with her arms crossed at him, as if judging him. Her eyes looking him up and down.

Thomas shifted a bit, “Er, yes.” he said finding his confidence again, as he met her gaze evenly. She laughed a bit at that, “Bravery, good, you’ll need it here. I’ll take you to Kodlak, he’ll see about you.” she told him with a wolfish grin on her face.

Nodding to her, Thomas followed quietly after her and away from the large group around the table into the lower parts. She walked with her head high and shoulders back, intimidating to say the least. Thomas mostly just liked to stay low and not say much. They neared a door at the far end, “He’s in there, we’ll see if he proclaims you new-blood?” she said looking him up and down before turning and leaving.

Giving her a strange look as she left, Thomas entered the room, lingering in the back as he heard two people having a conversation. He only really caught bits and pieces of it, trying not to eavesdrop. Something about ‘call of the blood’ and ‘not everyone is happy’ or at least that’s what it sounds like.

“Ah a stranger comes to our halls!” Thomas looked up to see a man with long white and gray hair in heavy armor with wolves on it. His beard was neatly tied as his eyes gazed into his very being.

Straightening up, “Hello, my name is Thomas.” he said politely, “I’m here to join The Companions.” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. From what he saw with that nord women they valued bravery and confidence. But, he was also taught to respect elders. While Thomas didn’t think everyone of old age was deserving of respect, he could just sense this man, Kodlak clearly, was one who deserved it.

“Would you now?” Kodlak hummed at him hand stroking his beard as he gazed at Thomas up and down much like how the red head did. He then nodded slowly, “Yes, perhaps, a certain strength of spirit.” The man he was talking to huffed in disbelief. “Now you can’t be serious Kodlak, I’ve never even heard of this man.”

Kodlak waved his hand, “It matters not Vilkas. Some come here to seek their Fame. Some men and women come just for the thrill of the fight. Others just are famous and wish to join. It matters not, so long as his blade arm is strong and his heart is true.” he commented calmly then turned to Thomas, “Tell me boy, how good is your arm?” he asked.

Thomas shifted a bit at that, “I have alot to learn, sir.” he admits quietly to him. “It’s why I seek to join.” Kodlak nodded to that with a pleased smile, “Good good, you will learn well then so long as you keep your head on a swivel and eyes to Sovenguard.” he promised looking to Vilkas, “Vilkas, why not test out this new-blood. See where we can place him to train with one of the higher members.” he suggested to the man with deep amber eyes and shaggy black hair.

With a nod and hum of confirmation he got up and motioned with his chin for Thomas to follow. Giving a look at that as Kodlak just nodded to him, Thomas turned and followed quietly. Vilkas seemed like a quiet type, didn’t speak as they walked out just giving nods to anyone they passed. And out they went to the courtyard. Thomas felt eyes on him as they got to the yard out back.

“So the old man wants me to test you, see where you’ll stand for training with us to become a Companion.” Vilkas huffed at that, gazing at Thomas “Two-handed it seems, duel weapons.” he nodded pulling out a shield and sword. “Alright then, let’s see, take a few swings at me. Don’t worry, I can take it.” he chuckled at Thomas, there was no taunting, just a statement.

Thomas nods sobering up, he wouldn’t be meek, this was nothing compared to a dragon after all. Pulling out his weapons, he gripped his leather handles, the weight of them in his hands. And then he lashed out. Vilkas moved fast, but Thomas remained on edge. He turned from the shield that almost bashed his arm, catching it with his blade as the ring of metal was heard. Vilkas laughed at that, as Thomas skidded back and they ran at each other again. Thomas grunted at the force that hit him, but he dug in his feet as Vilkas tried to push him back. The sword reared back, Thomas gazed up then turned sharply as it barely missed his shoulder. He moved his blade down and caught the blade under his. The other holding the shield with the other blade as they held there.

Gazing at him and then grinning, Thomas’s eyes widen as Vilkas moved his foot and knocked Thomas down. The blade at his neck, he gazed up as Vilkas laughed. “Well new-blood you fight well, a bit sloppy on form, but you have fire. You’re still a whelp though, so just do as we tell you.” he mused with a grin, showing sharp teeth. “Here, run a few tasks to cool off from our sparing session.” he handed Thomas his hand, helping him up, then handed him a sword. “Tell Eorlund, at the Sky Forge, it needs sharpen.”

Panting a bit and nodding, Thomas got his sword putting them away in their sheaths. Vilkas nodded patting Thomas’s shoulder firmly before heading to set down for a bit. Thomas turned and near flushed at the crowd that had gathered to watch their small sparing session. Taking a breath he turned away and walked up to what he knew to be Sky Forge now, trying to ignore the rush in his blood to fight again. That was normal, ever since he was little, the rush to fight and to win. His dad said he had a warriors spirit, but Thomas wasn’t sure that was it.

Climbing up the stairs, the sun high in the sky, Thomas saw a man working the metal at the forge. Brows creased in concentration and eyes narrowed as the hammer strikes the hot metal. Then, as if sensing him, they turned to him and hum. “What brings you here?” he asked, his muscles flexing as he struck the metal again. Thomas felt even more awkward about social interaction, “Well, Vilkas gave me his sword to bring to you.” he said holding it out.

Eorlund nodded to that as he took it, “Newcommer then?” he asked with a knowing look at him. Thomas just nodded feeling small inside, this was a bad idea. “Eh, don’t worry about it. They all were whelps once, they just don’t like to talk about it.” he told Thomas clasping his shoulder in a encouraging way. “If Kodlak says you have heart, then I’ll trust his judgement.”

“Thank you.” Thomas felt like some weight was off his shoulders, like Kodlak, Eorlund gave off a wise vibe, but capable in a fight. “Not sure really why I thought to join, figured if I am to make it in Skyrim I’ll need to be better at fighting.”

The blacksmith nodded, “A wise thought, your blade is the only think that stand between you and your enemy. Remember boy, nothing here will show mercy to you, so you shouldn’t either. Between creatures in the forests and people who’d slit your throat for a quick buck, you need to be ready.” he grunted out to Thomas as he treating the blade. “You’ll learn much here, and soon have songs sung about you.” he joked lightly at the last part.

Thomas felt himself smile a bit at that, Eorlund gave him a look. “Remember this though son, every man here is his own, and every women her own. No body rules a Companion. Kodlak is in charge, but a true leader, hasn’t been seen this Ysgamor.” he told Thomas in his gruff tones.

Turning to his blade to be cooled, Thomas watched for a long moment, Eorlund then grunted making him jump. “Interested in blacksmithing?” he asked knowingly with a side eyes. “Er well... yeah kind of.” Thomas admits to him sheepishly. Eorlund huffed, “Be firm with your words.” he said sharply to him, “But, here’s a deal for you. My wife is in grieving, I should be getting back to her. But, I have to finish Aela’s shield. Come back here when the sun is near the right of the city, and if you can deliver it for her, I’ll teach you smithing.” he offer to him.

Thomas blinked at that then nodded, “I can do that sir.” Eorlund snorted, “Sir? Formal of you, just call me Eorlund or, if you want to be formal, Gray-mane is fine.” he told him. “For now, get to know the city, you look clueless walking about.”

Flushing, was it that obvious? But nodding, he left, walking down the stairs and frowned to himself. Get to know the city? Well, he was Thane now, at least only few knew of that, so he supposed he should. Patton did say to hit him up for a tour if he wanted it. So, he supposed first place to find him would be at the Warmaidens. Walking to the area on the path he always took. Walking up to see Adrianne working, she looked at him and gave a kind smile. “Well it’s good to see you again, I see your quest is complete.” she laughed heartily, “What do you need my friend?” she asked.

“I was looking for Patton, seeing if he could show me around the city.” Thomas said, feeling more at ease as he knew of her better than most here. Adrianne nodded to that, “He’s just inside, and I’m sure he’ll love to.” she told Thomas looking at him. “Thomas.” he looked at her before walking in. “I need to ask a favor of you.”

Frowning in thought he walked over to her from the doorway. “You see,” she started. “This is the first time I’ve seen Patton really take to liking a newcommer, sure he’s friendly, but he’s also a very wary person of new people. Took me and my husband a year to get him to open up to us about his past. However, he’s asked around about you to the guards. And, I ask of you this, be a good friend to that boy. He needs someone to rely on in this world.” she told him firmly.

Thomas blinked at that in shock, before smiling at her. “I will certainly try.” he promised. Adrianne nodded, “Good, just keep in mind, you hurt him and my husband and I will have your head.” she said seriously. Thomas looked worried at that with a strained and worried smile.

“You both really care about him.” Thomas said with a nervous laugh. Sighing heavily, she nodded to that looking wistful. “We’ve always wanted a child. But, taking a blow to the stomach, though healed, didn’t help my chances.” she admits in a sad tone. “The boy came here, lost, confused, and wanting to learn. It wasn’t a challenge, my husband took a shining to him as much as I did. We can only hope to ready him for the world of being a merchant. This was 3 years ago.” she told Thomas.

He gazed at her for a long moment as she smiled, “Why am i telling you this? Because I think you’ll be a good influence on him, provided by husband is right about you.” she chuckled shaking her head. “You best head inside before you miss him.” Nodding, and saying his thanks, he walked inside to find Patton stocking things on shelves. Patton turned to speak but then beamed, “Thomas!” he said happily to him bouncing over. “What you need, the sword doing you well?” he asked.

Thomas smiled brightly, “Yup, I’ve joined the Companions.” he said to him. Patton’s eyes sparkled at that, “Really, that’s great!”

“More than great, Patton, I pegged you for a warrior when you walked in that day.” Ulfberth laughed as he came in with some shields setting them out on the tables. “To run with the Companions is a honorable path.” he told Thomas with a pleased nod. “I’m sure, still learning though and I have freetime.” Thomas turned to Patton, “As I’m a bit unsure, care to show me around the city?” he asked.

Patton smiled looking to Ulfberth, who chuckled, “Go on, I should be good here. Be back by dinner though.” he tells him, giving to them half a loaf of bread to snack on. Patton waved to him smiling happily as he pulled Thomas outside.

“I’ll be back before sundown Adrianne!” he said quickly as she beamed waving to them before going back to work. Patton pulled Thomas forward to an unknown area he hadn’t been in. “This is the City’s Wind Distract, most people live here and near the Cloud Distract, where Jorrvaskr is The Compainons, is the Underkeep, where the dead are housed.” Patton explained happily as he pulled Thomas along pointing out houses and who lives there and a bit of history.

Thomas was smiling as he listened to Patton talk taking up to the market place next as he waved to some of the stales. As they neared one though, with a older women who was talking to two men who were heckling her about her son. “Well we know where he is, he’s a prisoner in my cellar.” one sneered at her, “Face it old women, you’re son is dead, died a traitor to the Empire!” he said.

Something burned him as he near snarled. He walked over to them, eyes cold as Patton stared in shock and worry at that. “While I don’t have a stake in the war,” he began, “it gives one no right to bully the elderly.” he said getting near them with a cold look. They turned to him, “Oh? And what do you care? Another Stormcloak?” the older man asked with a sneer at Thomas.

“I’m just a man getting by, as much as any other in these times.” Thomas crossed his arms, mimicking Vilkas’s posture he saw. “And I don’t think your ancestors would take well to knowing that you spend your time picking on those older than you and wiser at that.” Opening his mouth to retort, but then snapping it closed. Something about this boy felt... strong, as if he was staring at the maws of a mighty dragon. Instead he scoffed, “Whatever boy, mind you tongue or it’ll be cut off.” he jeered before stalking off with his partner.

Thomas watched them leave, most had been staring at them, but some were nodding at Thomas’s words. Something in him gave a pleased hum to see the weak ones run. He then smiled and relaxed turning to the lady behind the stall. “Sorry about that Ma’ma, I don’t like people who bully others, regardless of their status.” he said to her looking at the jewelry she had on display.

Her wary face smiled at him, “Thank you young man, good to see Skyrim still has fine people in it.” she then sighed. “It’s not the first time this has happened to me though “Call me Fralia, I have seen you around here.” she mused to him then smiled brightly. “Ah Patton, showing this nice man around?” she asked.

Patton, once over his shock of Thomas standing up to a Battle-born, “Yes Fralia, this is Thomas.” he said with a smile. “Well be sure to come back and chat, I do enjoy company.” she said to him with a smile as Thomas nodded waving to her as Patton pulled him along.

“Woah, you’re fearless!” Patton said once away. Thomas gave him a look, “How so?” he asks curiously to that. “You stood up to the Battle-borns, only few do so. They are powerful, money, and were here when Whiterun was founded.” Patton tells him softly.

For a moment, dread pooled in Thomas’s gut, but he pushed it down. “Regardless Patton, it still gives no right to treat people like that.” he tells him. Patton then nodded to that, “Very true, but not many would say it out loud. Many here, even those on the Empire side, dislike their way of bullying people. The Gray-manes, though at odds with them, I haven’t ever seen them start the fights.” he mused.

Nodding to that as they came near the tree, Patton looked upset again. “Something wrong?” Thomas asked him worriedly. “Ah, nothing.” Patton said with a wave of his hand, Thomas gave him a pointed look as Patton shifted “Well... this tree didn’t always look like this, when I came here it was very alive.” he said sadly.

“Shame isn’t it.” Thomas turned to see a healer prestress walk to them. “Hello Patton, showing the new guy around? Rumors already spread about him.” she said with a soft smile.

Patton smiled, “Thomas, this is Diancie Pure-Spring, she is a prestress of Kynareth and taught me how to better my healing magic.” Diancie laughed at that lightly, “Please Patton, you have Kynareth’s blessing with you, she has a path for you for sure.” she smiled at Thomas. “I noticed you asking about Gildergreen here.”

Thomas nodded as she sighed sadly, “Sadly we don’t know why it is dying, possibly she is too far from her mother, Eldergleam.” she told him sadly, “Many used to come here, but a dead tree isn’t really a sign of healing, huh?”

He frowns at that, “I suppose not, any way to save it?” he asks worriedly, knowing many people held religion close in this area of the empire. “Sadly, unless we find sap from the original tree, it’s hopeless. And Eldergleam isn’t easy to reach, only one blade could do such a thing. But... hagravens own it.” she shivered a bit in fear and disgust.

She then waved her hand, “Worry not, I’m sure Kynareth will show us what to do.” she tells them then turns, “I best head back, come by some time again Patton, many of the wounded have asked about you. You seem to brighten their day.” Diancie smiled at him as Patton nods before taking her leave.

Thomas then looked up, “I best head back, Eorlund wants me to take a shield to Aela.” he tells Patton. The other nods with a bright smile, that doesn’t quiet reach his eyes. “Sure thing Thomas, see you soon.” he says. Thomas walks off but notices Patton looking at the tree sadly.

He hoped his new friend would be alright.

TAGS:

@5-falsehoods-phonated

#sanders sides #ts patton #sanders sides skyrim au #c!thomas #ts thomas #I'm trying to give personality to everyone #and it's fun #I won't go into long details of quests we've all played #most of this is centered around Thomas and his friends #up next is the quest for the eldergleam sap #Patton's companion questline #long post #long chapter #wow this took a while

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kayanne369 · 6 years

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18th of Last Seed

I awoke early this day. Gerder and Ralof were discussing the situation at hand. It took me a few minutes to remember where I was, to be honest. I stayed relatively quiet throughout their conversation. I’m not sure why. I’ve always been more of a listener than a talker. Was always taught the value of listening. They both looked at me when the realised I was awake and smiled warmly. That hearty warm-blooded smile that Nords wear so well. Gerder offered me some breakfast. I still wasn’t very hungry but good manners would not let me refuse. It was not long after that Ralof brought up the topic that was likely on all our minds, but no-one wanted to say. Dragons. We had seen a dragon. We had been attacked by a dragon. We had survived an attack by a dragon. No others made it to the village that day so I can only assume that we were indeed the only survivors. This tiny village. A tiny village made up of farmers and craftsmen. It wouldn’t stand a snowball’s chance in oblivion if a dragon decided to attack.

It was the man that finally called on me. I had by this point learned his name to be Hod. Odd name, but there we go. He asked me for a favour. A simple favour in all honesty. Go to Whiterun. Tell the Jarl about the dragons. Bring back reinforcements. A simple task really. I thought so at the time and I think so now. I don’t really wish to get too involved in whatever this god's forsaken land has gotten itself into. I’ve been hearing murmurings about some kind of civil war all day and quite frankly, I could care less about it. But these people were kind enough to take me in. Feed me and let me sleep. I honestly consider it my duty at this point to repay them in some way and since I have nothing in the way of material goods to give, a small favour seems like nothing. So, I agreed. If what I was told was correct, Whiterun was little more than half a day away. I did however with that Ralof would come with me. To keep me from getting lost if nothing else. Oh, well. All’s well that end’s well in this case.

Before I headed out, I thought it a good idea of collect some supplies, but as my bad luck would have it, I walked right into the middle of a blazing argument between the two proprietors. Something about bandits and a golden claw and the future of the shop depending on it and this Camilla girl insisting that she go an confront them like it wasn’t the stupidest idea ever thought up. Eventually, I agreed to go and retrieve the claw for them. Honestly, I feel taking down a few bandits would do me the world of good at the moment. I was about to leave when the door burst open, practically knocking me on off my feet. A young Nord walked in. Blonde hair tied back. Broad shoulders. A smile that could worm its way into any woman's heart. He didn’t even seem to notice me when he passed and strode confidently up to Camilla, presenting her with a makeshift bouquet of wildflowers. It would be rather charming if the fellow didn’t give off such an arrogant air about him. The two flirted playfully for a while. At the very least Camilla seemed to reciprocate his affections. I left in a quiet hurry just as the shop owner, who I took by his reaction was the young lady’s brother, decided to put a stop to this rather embarrassing display and showed the lad out.

He blew a kiss at the closed door and looked at me rather suspiciously. I snapped a quick “What?” at him and he offered a half-hearted smile.

“I haven’t seen you before” he said.

“No,” I said back, not really intending to talk to him.

“Are you new?” he asked, leaning slightly closer to me.

“I am.” I reached back for my dagger. I’d no intention of using it but I thought perhaps that if he saw it, it would dissuade him from conversing with me further.

“Not often we get a Dunmer around here. Are you a friend of Faendal?”

I looked at him, questioningly. There was an almost hopeful anticipation in his voice. I fought back the urge to tell him that I had no idea who this Faendal character was, and answered with a quiet shake of my head. He seemed almost anxious at this, rubbing his arms and avoiding my eyes.

“Oh, I see. Um…well, in that case, do you think you’d like to meet him?”

I gave him a very odd look and took several steps back. He must have seen the seriousness in my expression for he gave a sigh and slumped over the railing. He offered a passing attempt at an apology and out of brazenness or stupidity, our right confessed that he hoped I’d be a suitable partner for this Bosmer chap that he’d apparently been in something of a love feud with Sven for the fair Camilla’s affections.

“I suppose it doesn’t really matter,” he said to no-one in particular. “They’re just friends after all.”

I couldn’t stop myself from scoffing.

“Of course. And when ever has a close friendship developed into feelings of love.”

Not entirely sure why I said that. Maybe just to get a rise out of him. Maybe I actually felt sorry for the twit. Either way, he gave me a look of utter disdain and then almost immediately relented and agreed. He looked at me rather sheepishly and asked if I could do him a quick favour, after which he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it over to me.

“Listen. I know this is none of your concern really, but could you deliver this to Camilla. Tell her it’s from Faendal?”

I shot him another look but took the paper from him anyway. I’d no desire get involved in this foolishness. I had things to do. I didn’t have time to be dealing with some silly love triangle. But on the other hand. I relented that it might be nice to play matchmaker for a time. At least this is what I told myself. In truth, I think I just wanted to read what this young whelp had written. Pure nosiness. I will not try and pretend it was anything but. However, given the nature of the letter he gave me, I’m quite glad I made that decision. The letter I held in my hand was full of toxicities so vile I doubt the young man had any real awareness about its severity. The long and short of it was a statement that the difference in race between the two meant that Faendal and our dear Camilla could never be together. This was bad enough. But it was not what enraged me so. The letter mentioned the Aldmeri Dominion. Made very dangerous accusations. This was a Nord village. It doesn’t take a genius to understand the uneasy relationship these people have with my kind. Somehow, this Faendal had slipped through the cracks of prejudice and set up a life here for himself. If there was even the slightest hint that he was connected with the Thalmor I shudder to think what would happen to him. And this was the letter he wished me to deliver? A letter that could ruin a man’s life. A man I had never met? Over some girl?

What a sickening thing to do. Honestly, the fact that I’m rather sure Sven was nothing but ignorant about how damaging this could be was the only thing preventing me from sticking my dagger through his neck…that and his mother was literally sitting a few feet away from me. I took the letter and decided that I’d probably better tell this Faendal character what was going on. If this idiot was willing to say something like this, then it was likely something Faendal would have to look out for.

I actually found him relatively quickly. I’d passed by him before but we had never talked until now. He was tall for a Bosmer. Dark eyes. Long white hair pulled back in a high ponytail. He looked at me and smiled. Can’t deny there was an earnest charm about him. Perhaps it was just nice to see one of my own, but I wouldn’t fault Camilla for having an interest in him. His demeanour changed however when I showed him the letter. His body visually tensed up and he clutched the letter in his hand. Obviously, I was not overreacting when I considered how damaging this could be to him. He peered over to me and gave me a quick smile, silently thanking me for telling him. We were silent for a moment before he suddenly perked up and pulled me over to a large tree stump. He took out a piece of paper and without uttering a word began scribbling on it with a piece of charcoal. It took me a few seconds to figure out what he was doing but when I did, I couldn’t help but giggle. What he was writing was a letter in return. A taste of the bard’s own medicine. Nothing as potentially life-destroying as the one Sven had made for him, but one that if delivered to a certain young woman, would not hold him in good favour. Still makes me laugh. I almost feel sorry for the boy.

Oh well. To cut a long story short, Sven’s prospects of romancing Camilla are now significantly lower than before. However, both Faendal and I recognised the danger before us. Sven was obviously willing to tell egregious lies in order to get him out of the way. I doubt there is any real malice intended with him. Just stupidity. But stupidity is as dangerous as anything. In any regard, I suggest that Faendal accompany me to retrieve the golden claw that seemed to mean so much to the fair imperial. Perhaps if he returns it to her instead of me, he could gain favour. I can’t believe I’m giving this so much though. I truly did intend not to get involved in this. On the other hand, I also intended that this journal would be a factual account of important matters and we see how well that turned out.

He agreed and we set out towards Whiterun. I wish I can say something more interesting happened on the way, but alas, it was a perfectly calm and uneventful journey. We chatted together, mainly about Camilla. The fool truly does seem to love her. I told him about what happened at Helgan. He seemed dubious, like I had been remembering things wrong or that perhaps I was playing a trick on him. This aside, we travelled silently and by the time we reached the city, it was near midnight. Too late to talk to the Jarl now. He will be asleep. Everyone will be asleep. All we can really do is hope to the eight that Riverwood will be safe from those beats for one more night. We decided to spend the night in an inn. I believe it’s called the Bannered Mare. It’s a hearty place. Rough and warm like a tight embrace. I do love these Nord customs.

Just before we turned int for the night, Faendal took my arm and looked dead into my eyes.

“Did you really see a dragon?”

“I did more than see it.”

He let me go. His eyes were worried, but I could not quite place at what specifically. His home perhaps. His lady love back in Riverwood. The prospect of possibly facing one. I don’t know, for he retired before I could ask. I will in the morning.

#skyrim #dragonborn #Elder Scrolls #faendal #riverwood #lovely letter #fiction #oc #the journal fic

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firsthold · 8 years

Note

Hey I kinda need some cheering up can you talk about some of your ocs or some cool elder scrolls stuff?

ye i can i really hope your day gets better. sorry if i answered this late, mobile doesn’t show notifications for asks anymore.

but i can talk abt my dragonborn astoril! she’s the great granddaughter of my vestige valrae and was born and raised in Mathiisen. her parents and older sister are high ranking members of the thalmor, but she really did not want to join them and thus went to a mages college back on alinor. she ended up being able to transfer to the college of winterhold to study the falmer. astoril was escorted by a thalmor party and was stopped in helgan where alduin attacked and she met antonius, an imperial bard about to get his head chopped off. they both follow in the imperial guy (i can’t remember his name it’s early in the morning aaaahhh) and from there they became two really close friends because what else happens when two people survive a traumatic event like that together?

she spends most of the main quest worrying about not making it to winterhold and eventually comes to hate the thalmor after she sees what horrible things that they’re doing in skyrim.

she and my other oc svenja join the dawnguard and fuck shit up, and she and durnehviir become close.

after dragonborn she becomes a loyal servent of mora

thanks for sending in an ask!

#oc: astoril #asks

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chaospenelope · 8 years

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Dragon's Roar

The Stone and Claw

Whiterun was surrounded by tall, solid stone wall. At the peak of the hill was an impressive keep. 'Must be where the Jarl is.' She thought as she studied the structure. She circled to the entrance. Walked past the stable and up the stone road. There were watch towers bordering the path as she ascended to the two large wooden doors. As she opened them the guards at each side twisted around to look at her then glanced at each other with readied swords. "Halt, town's closed. There's been a Dragon spotted in the area."

"Please, I'm on behalf of Riverwood. I need to speak with the Jarl about protection." She gave a relieved sigh when they opened the doors. People walked up and down town, children ran around shouting and laughing, and a man in armor argued with a woman wearing a blacksmith's apron. Most people stopped to stare at her with mixed expressions but after a few moments of her just exploring the village they returned to their normal activities. She made a mental map of the town and planning on where she'll go once the Jarl was warned. It didn't feel too odd being in such a busy place, perhaps she's been in a town like this before? "I'm not afraid of you bear!" She looked down to see two kids staring up at her, the girl was blurting out information she never asked for. The boy just had a wide eyed expression as his gaze switched between her and the guards. "That's nice..." It was obvious they weren't expecting a response since they gasped and ran off. "Do you go to the Cloud District often?" She glanced over at a man speaking in a condescending manner. "No, Is that what you call the castle where the Jarl resides?" "Well, Of course you haven't." He spoke as if he didn't even hear her, looking at her tattered clothes with a disgusted look on his face. She growled at him before before walking through the market to the next district. A district decorated with a circle of nice homes and a large building with an overturned boat for a roof. She walked past a tree and a preaching robed person up the stairs that rose above manmade pools of water. It lead to a wide stone trail ending at an impressive set of doors. At each side a guard leaned against the imposing structure. They suddenly stood at attention as an armored elvish woman exited the hold. She noticed Neda approaching and pulled out an Imperial sword. "Turn back now, the Jarl is not taking visitors." She warned coldly. "I'm sorry but I am here for Riverwood. They need protection from the dragon, I saw it-." "You saw the dragon!?" She was caught in disbelief. This Woman wasn't a local and her kin wasn't common in Skyrim. She didn't know enough about her kind to feel trustworthy, but couldn't take the risk if she was telling the truth. "Yes! Riverwood and Whiterun could be in danger! Helgan was already reduced to ruins!" "...Right this way." She opened the entrance to a grand feast hall. Two tables and a fire pit stretched to the bottom of a short staircase leading to an occupied throne. The Housecarl escorted the traveler to the Jarl. Jarl Balgruuf was sitting lazily in his chair listening to his Steward. The balding man was currently pleading with his leader about the appearance of soldiers. He rose his hand at the sight of his unexpected visitor hushing his steward. "My lord, this one claims to have important information about an attack on Helgan." "You have my attention..." "It was a Dragon that destroyed Helgan. It was near Riverwood when I last saw it." "Helgan destroyed!? By a-...So that really was a dragon." He said the word like it was a curse. He rose his head and looked over to the left of the room toward a smaller area filled with books and an enchanters table. "We should speak with the court wizard about this...He's been researching them for ages." "Jarl, you don't honestly believe this?" His steward's words fell on def ears. He rose up from his throne and led Neda to a man dressed in dark robes. "Farengar." The man closed his book and turned to them. "Someone else has seen the dragon?" "So you were listening. Have you found anything that might explain why?" "No, but I do know of something that might tell us." He motioned toward a map on the table and placed the book he was holding next to it. "I've found old scriptures telling of a tablet called the Dragonstone." He pointed at a spot close to Riverwood. "It's located in Bleak Falls Barrow." "I can retrieve it for you." Neda spoke up much to their surprise. She figured the location on the map corresponds to the path the shop keep's sister pointed her toward. "Bandits have taken refuge there, but I can get your stone." "Bandits are going to be the least of your problems. There are stories of walking dead in those tombs. People often wander in and never come out." "Isn't that true for a lot of places here...Or anywhere really?" She asked but only got a shrugged response. "If it could help prevent more bloodshed then I'll go." Balgruuf turned to her. "What is your name?" "Neda, now if you'll excuse me there are some bandits that need carving through." She traveled back through the village feeling many eyes on her back. She returned to the market with all the merchants' pitches filling her ears at once. She entered a store called Belethor's General Goods. "Eeeeeverything's for sale my friend!" The man behind the desk belted out the moment the door opened. "Everything's for sale. If I had a sister even she'd be for sale." "Where is your armor?" "Ah, An adventurer in the making? I have just the thing!" He opened a chest and pulled out his largest pieces, an incomplete set of iron armor. She picked up one of the gauntlets and pulled it onto her arm. It fit. "How much for the gauntlets and armor?" "Hundred and fifty two gold." She looked at her funds. She would only have fifty left for potions but she needed the armor more. She gave him the coin and left. She hid behind the building and slipped out her tattered dress. She carefully folded it and placed the garment on the ground along with her other things. She clasped the chest plate around her torso and slipped on the gauntlets. It was bit snug around the chest but not restricting. She left just without so much as a peep from the guards. She pulled out her map for any short cuts to Bleak Falls. She decided the best option was to just follow the road back. It was much quieter than when she first arrived. The giant's corpse still laid on the farmer's crops. Passing the meadery she heard something in the bushes. She spun around to see a bear smelling the air. It must have been the one she ran from. She tried to back away slowly but the animal had her scent. It seemed a bit confused at first now that it was so close to her, but quickly swiped at her with an angry roar. She jumped back but the warm taste of blood told her she wasn't quite fast enough. She unsheathed her blade in time to block another strike. The beast ripped the weapon from her hand. She readied a handful of sparks as she backed away. Her other glowed with a healing light. It clawed at her midsection. It didn't falter as the electricity surged through it's bones. It rammed it's head into her chest forcing her to stumble back. She summoned hot flames with both paws. She tried to keep him at bay as she circled around for her sword. He charged again now with gaping jaws. It's teeth caught on her gauntlet. He tried to force her to the ground but she pulled her arm out with all her strength. Her arm was was freed after a painful pop. An incisor was ripped from the wild bear's skull. It let out a loud growl of a cry as it stood up glared at her. She took this opportunity to snatch up her blade. She slashed at the animal's chest before it could defend. There was a spray of blood. The creature fell and stood on all fours. It wasn't done fighting yet, even as it's wound drained and pooled onto ground. Neda struck at it's throat leaving another gash. It charged full speed nocking the air from her lungs and her feet from under her. There was a pounding pain in the back of her head. There was a sudden sharp pain on her left leg. It attempted to drag her like a fresh kill. She jammed her heel into it's head but it refused to let go. She blasted the wild animal with a spray of fire. It let go for the briefest moment but it was enough for her to get away. She decided to make a run for it, losing far too much time already. It seemed like she wasn't gaining any ground. She started to heal herself with magica. Only after healing herself completely did she look back to see nothing.

#FNAF AU #Skyrim #Dragon's Roar #Neda NightShade #Neda Salmon

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griffinsandpeacocks · 4 years

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Get Up And Write Week 2: “I’ll be here ‘til we collide, I don’t care if I survive.″ Force of Nature, Bea Miller

Warning: I have a head cannon due to the altmer maintaining their population despite their disturbing habits on the Isle that certain male mer could carry a child. I mean the altmer should have died out other wise especially given a lot of them died in the Oblivion Crisis, so my head cannon is that they have a minority in the male population that can carry a child. Please turn back if that is not your cup of tea. I rather not deal with flamers thank you.

Faernil sat in the cell looking up the ceiling feeling hopeless. He hadn’t done anything but then again he’d been asking to get screwed by being in Skyrim of all places to begin with. He should have known better. His arms tighten around his legs and he sighs. He was just looking for his son. He needed to find Martin. He was going to die instead. He hears the guards move but doesn’t look his stomach churns when he smells food from the hall he sighs and drops his head onto his knees.

“Martin... Please stay safe...” He whispers terrified he wasn’t going to be able to help his son at all anymore. He had wanted to stay with him, Martin had always been saddened by not having his father but Faernil had said even if Martin had died to save them, he was still there watching from the stars. Aside that, Faernil would always be there for him as long as he should want him around. Faernil sighed he had held the favor of The Nine for a time but still... His little son was well trained and even if he died to some cruel nords his brat could survive on his own. He took a lot after his father he could pass for a breton unless his ears were on show and then again if he tanned his skin went from the dull tan to a golden sheen like his own.

He had had no stolen good on him and hadn’t even done anything in fact he’d been trying to get supplies so he could search further, as he hadn’t seen Martin at Darkwater crossing where they’d agreed to meet back up. He had heard a group of Imperials attacked a group of Stormcloaks and he felt his chest tighten. He was terrified his baby was gone. Yet he’d looked he hadn’t found his body, so Martin was either on the run from the fighting or he’d been captured. He can’t stop the soft sob.

“What are you upset about? Being in a cell?” The guard asks and Faernil scoffs lifting his head and rubbing his tears away into his sleeve. At least they’s let him keep his mage robes. Another mistake he’d wager.

“No... I don’t care of my circumstance... I’m worried my son is out there hurt or dying and I’m no where near to help him like I’ve promised since he was old enough to understand words.” Faernil says looking over at the blond that looks at him with concern. His stomach growls again as the smell of food drifts down and Faernil drops his head to his knees and hides the sigh. The man moves and the elf looks up shocked when the man offers a chunk of bread.

“Won’t this get you in trouble?” Faernil asks cautious and the blond smiles blue eyes rather dazzling.

“Not really? We’re not the Thalmor we do feed our prisoners.” He says and Faernil stands a bit shaky as he’d curled up in the corner since he’d been thrown in on his face. He takes the bread with a soft thanks and the man asks him what he did which gets the elf to laugh a bit sad.

“Being gold with pointy ears is my best guess. I was bartering to continue looking for my son and got grabbed and told I’d broken some such law and if I wanted to live I’d go with them.” He says honestly. The man frowns and asks if his things had been placed in the chest and Faernil shakes his head and says they’s gone upstairs with it. The man storms off and Faernil sighs and moves back to his corner.

A commotion is heard up above and the elf waits and eventually the same blond that had given him the bread came back a bag in his hands and a bruise forming on his jaw. Another man more formally dressed by Skyrim standards walks behind him.

“So this all is yours?” The first ask setting it on the ground he opens the bag and shows the contents. The elf comes closer. Most of his things are there and some that are not. He points out what’s not his and mentions some of his easier to sell supplies are gone. The man growls and the man places a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t, it’s not worth it. You what were you accused of?” He asks and Faernil sighs. He explains again he’d just been bartering and gotten a vague arrest. They looked at the reports and nothing said anything about Faernil being in the cells. So the regally dressed man opened the cell and handed over the bag of everything. Faernil tried to say he couldn’t take what wasn’t his but the older of the two nords looked at him and Faernil could see his patience wearing thin.

“Accept it as payment for being wrongly imprisioned as there’s no record we have no idea who those things belonged to. They’re likely dead. Take them.” Faernil sighs and nods, giving up the argument. He looks at the younger nord.

“Thank you. Truly you could have left me in there, I can go look for Martin again.” He says smiling and the younger man shrugs and rubs the back of his neck.

“You reminded me of someone who got dragged into Helgan with us. I’m Ralof by the way.” He says and the older nord paused and turned to look at the mer again. Faernil feels mildly uncomfortable.

“Can you describe them?” He asks watching Ralof with a feeling of dread in his chest.

“Tall about your height, he had long sandy blond hair and at first I mistook him for a breton but then we went under some sun and there was that gleam you altmer give off. He has bright grey eyes.” Faernil stops him there pain in his features as he tries to make his voice work.

“Last you saw him he was alright?” He asks voice choked and Ralof paused and nods and Faernil sighs his shoulders slumping with relief.

“We just sent him out to retrieve an Ice Wraith fang.” The older man says and Faernil paused he pursed his lips.

“As a test..?” He asks fear griping his chest. The older nord nods and Faernil feels his chest tighten.

“He’ll be fine, he made it through Helgan, there was a dragon there and word is he fought one and killed it in Whiterun too.” Faernil feels his heart stop there’s a ringing in his ears and he feels cold.

“What...?” He asks voice tight and Ralof looks sheepish as he sees this is not comforting news to the elf.

“He’s fared far worse than just getting to an ice wraith.” Ralofsays in an almost questioning tone he’s trying to calm the elf down, he can see it’s not working as well as he’d like.

“Damnit Martin... You weren’t supposed to become anyone special. It’ll only get you hurt!” Faernil hissed hands clenching as he thinks how he can stop this. The older nord looks at him with a barely hidden sneer.

“Should he instead die without any honnor like a dog?” He asks and the altmer snarls and glares him down.

“He’d die without knowing how much it hurts when those you fought for turn their backs!” He spits and the man glares and gets closer to him and Faernil steps up so their practically in each other’s face.

“What would you know of people turning their backs on you after you gave your all?” The man shouts and Faernil can sense the power in his voice but doesn’t flinch instead he holds out his hand and summons a simple shield. It’s the crusaders shield.

“I was a Champion to Cyrodill. They would have my head to hand it over to the Thalmor because I’m a Blade. Don’t test me boy, I’ve loved a man that held dragon blood in his veins you’re parlor tricks won’t phase me. Do not test me, or I’ll show you how fierce a dragon truly is.” Faernil hissed and the man looks to the shield sees the red diamond and steps back glaring at him.

“You’re claiming to be the Seventh Champion?” He asks and Faernil sneers.

“It’s truth not a mere claim. What else do I need to do to prove it? Pull out the shattered amulet of my long dead lover?” He snarks and Ulfric gives him a curious look.

“You have the shattered amulet of kings?” He asks and Faernil sniffs feeling the urge to cry he fights back the tears as he vanishes the shield and reached under his robe and pulled out the broken amulet he stares down at it sadly.

“I’ve had it since that last battle.” He says softly there is clear pain in his voice. Ralof bumps their shoulders together and Faernil looks up and smiles at the young nord.

“You’re Martin’s father then?” He asks and Faernil laughs and blushed shaking his head.

“Mother.” He corrects and both men look at him confused.

“It’s a trait we mer prize, since we’re so obsessed with purity it’s hard to have a female child so having a son who can carry on the linage in either fashion is well sought after. I’m one of the unlucky sods with the trait.” He says softly.

“Unlucky, how?” Ralof asks and Faernil sighs and his hand clenches around the amulet he feels the shattered stone cut into his palm but pays no heed to it.

“Unlucky because if I get dragged back to the isle I become a brood mare.” The elf explains and Ralof looks at him confused and Faernil shrugs blushing as he looks to the side and coughs.

“We basically go through a time where we become extremely fertil, there are ways to encourage that out of turn So I’m not just concerned he’ll get hurt... I might be mildly terrified of what could happen to me.” Faernil says softly opening his hand he heals the cuts and puts the amulet back and then holds out his hand to heal Ralof’s face the bruise fading away quickly under a master healer’s hand.

“You know healing magic?” The older nord asks.

“I’m a master in the healing arts. I... Used to just be adept but after having my son I became overprotective. He once to prove a point vanished for a couple days on his own and when I found him he’d made a camp and had fended for himself remarkably well he then told me if I kept coddling him he was going to go join the Legion which... Was enough of a wake up call I started to teach him all I knew that he was willing to learn.” Faernil says softly and Ralof looks at him with a curious look.

“No offense meant but... You look like a breeze could knock you over.” Ralof states and the older nord is now laughing and Faernil will admit he enjoyed the sound as much as the arrogant man irked him.

“Well... I mean... You’re not wrong.” Faernil agrees laughing softly.

“Would you be willing to join with your son? We could use healers.” The man says and Faernil looks at the nord skeptically.

“No. I will heal any injured you have here... But I refuse to be involved in another war. I watched so many die in the last one... I can’t do that again. Going out and killing dangers to people like aggressive wildlife and bandits is one thing... Killing men who are just taking orders... I can’t do that anymore. I watched my own knights die so that me and my son could flee from Thalmor with these gods forsaken relics... I gave up on fighting then. We had hid waited and gone back... You know what those bastards did to my knights?” Faernil asks and Ulfric looks at him. Ralof looks sick already.

“What?” He asks and Faernil sneers.

“They had cut off their heads and put eight of them on pikes. The ninth knight, the knight for Talos, was strung up like some garish decoration in pieces to make the rune for liar. I... I don’t want to deal with it anymore... I can’t stand the thought of that happening again... Yet you nords have a painfully accurate saying ‘War, the season unending.’ It’s true. Those of us that live on Nirn are petty at our core. Thus war is eternal and self sustaining.” Faernil says and he looks at the older nord.

“I can show you to the area our injured are, we are in painful need of healers with your skill.” He says and Faernil sighs knowing now that he showed a needed talent this man would hound him for it. He follows them securing his bag and watches as a tall rugged blond drags the two who’d thrown him in jail down the stairs they’d come up. He doesn’t pay any further heed following the two he enters a room that reeks of blood. Faernil has to step bag a sick look on his face he covers his mouth and nose and swallows he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as fire and death flash behind his eyes. Yet he fights it all back, there are dying men that need his help. He swallows thickly and walks back in the two nords watching him as he walks the room Wunfurth watches him as he’s been seeing what he can do. Faernil goes to one man who is giving shallow rattling breaths and he sees the fire in his eyes and smiles softly.

“I’m here to help.” He says gently and his hands glow as he gently checks the man over seeing it’s a miracle the man’s alive his ribs were broken likely from a shield or hammer blow and it’s shocking he was managing to breath. Faernil winced as it was going to hurt when he fixed the ribs.

“Take as deep a breath as you can. This will hurt...” He advises the man takes a breath ready to tear into the elf with words but Faernil takes the chance and channels his magic the ribs lifting off the lungs and setting in place Faenril holds the magic and mutters under his breath a specific spell until he feels the easy flow signaling the ribs were set. The man had his jaw and eyes clenched shut but hadn’t wailed in pain. Faernil stops his magic and looks at the jug of water near by and pours a small glass he helps prop the man up just a bit so he can drink and then he channels some more healing through the man fixing several injuries that had been building into serious internal damage if they’d been left much longer.

The elf went about the room like that healing the majorly damaged ones first before he found others that had breaks that were mending but some were done in a hurry and needed re-breaking. Faernil sighs and just keeps healing what he can that is easy or quick before he moves onto the ones that need to be hurt again before being healed properly. It was his least favorite type of healing. Though the nords in the room he’s been circling in for the past week have begun to call him an angel and he smiles as some would share stories with him and others were weary of him still. He enjoyed it though as much as it made him nauseous he loved to help people it was in his soul.

“Hey, there’s a few new guys coming in. A soldier he’d healed previously says walking in with a wince, he’d been made a guard at the palace at Faernil’s suggestion. He’d healed but there was always going to be lingering damage that made him a more reliable guard than a soldier. At least as a guard he’d be within close range of a healer if the injuries flared and caused him to get hurt again. Faernil smiles at him and gestures at empty beds and he stands from the chair he’d been resting in and the soldier that had gotten him to sit groans in frustration.

“How in all Oblivion do you not get tired?” He asks exasperated and Faernil laughs.

“I do, I just hide it really well.” He teases as he helps get the injured men and women into beds though some fight it not trusting the elf. Faernil had reluctantly agreed to stay at the Palace and become the resident healer. Only because if he stayed he’d eventually see Martin. Ralof and Ulfric had said when the young man came in they’d call for him so he could say hello to his son and they could both be assured the other was safe. Faernil had slowly become at home in the chilly palace and had even begun to see perhaps not all the nords were close minded assholes. Many were genuinely happy to see him about the palace when he’d leave the healing rooms when his presence wasn’t urgently needed.

The new group had one man that had his eyes wrapped and Faernil saw the lingering burns of magic and cringed already aware of what had happened even as another explains he was rescued from a group of Thalmor. Faernil stayed quite not wishing to distress the man he was as gentle as he could be unraveling the bandages he saw the man’s eyes were severely damaged. If he’d see at all it would be a miracle and testament to Faernil’s healing abilities. He sighs again he straightens up and takes a deep breath as he starts to heal focusing harder than necessary so he doesn’t have to chant and possibly terrify the poor soldier. He sags tiredly against the wall after doing what he can silently. It’s a huge strain as the words in a chant help direct the magic to do specifics but when silent one had to focus so solely on what they needed it drained on their will much more than just a powerful spell would.

“I... I can see? How...” The man sound startled and confused and Faernil steps away worried how he’ll react to see an elf. He glanced to another soldier in a bed who’s recovering and they purse their lips and watch the man.

“We have a talented healer helping us now.” He says slowly and the man looks at the other soldier and Faernil moves a bit away to help some other soldiers first though one is very angry and very awake.

“Get away from me you filthy gold skin bastard.” He snarls as Faernil approaches and the conversation ceased in the room everyone now looking at Faernil who just blinks at the man.

“You know, I took a bath not too long ago so not filthy also not a bastard despite a quite a few people swearing otherwise. Now be silent and still so I can heal you and get you out of my care as quickly as I can.” He sighs and flicks his hand to immobilize the man long enough he sets the breaks and heals the lacerations and then looks to the two guards that typically stay outside the room but when new injured soldiers come they like to come in to be sure the elf isn’t hurt trying to help. It had happened once as he was tending an unconscious soldier who’d woken up in fight mode and had almost strangled him. He backs up and releases the spell the man glaring and about to go off when the previously blind soldier speaks up.

“You’d insult a man that just healed you? Someone who has no reason to help you and could have left you for dead?” He asks and the man glanced over anger clear in his face.

“You went through it, how can you even begin to trust this bastard?” He spits back and the previously blind man sneers.

“Because there’d been an elf with us who was equally tormented you blind fucker. He took more than the rest of us because when those black robed assholes came in he’d insult them so they’d target him. He died before the rest of us and if I hadn’t followed suit we’d all be sporting more damage. So shut your mouth before I get up and rip out your tongue.” Faernil froze and turned.

“Did you know his name?” Faernil asks terrified and the man looks at him and nods.

“He wasn’t a Stormcloak, he was just a dunmer that had gotten caught when he’d tried to help us in the skirmish that saw us captured. His name was Servas.” The man says and Faernil’s form relaxes he’s sad to hear a dunmer had been put through that but it wasn’t Martin.

“You were scared it was someone you knew?” The man asks and Faernil gives a soft smile as he moves about healing others in need of his care.

“I had feared it was my son, Martin would be that bold... Or stupid. If the Thalmor ever caught him they’d make his death slow and painful.” He says softly frowning now as he treats the injuries of a woman covered by fire burns these burns are different from any he’s dealt with before... He paused and sighs his magic isn’t as effective on them and it’s troubling. He paused and looked at the alchemy table. He always hated yielding to alchemy where his magic failed. He was still a very proud mage. He looks at the woman and pursed his lips trying to think of a calm way to say that he was borderline useless in her case.

“Dragon fire’s that different from magical burns then?” She asks cracking a pained smile and he sighs nodding.

“I’m afraid my magic is near useless in this case. However, I can make some salve that should hopefully help. It will take a while to make so I’m afraid you’ll be in pain longer than I would like.” He sighs and she shrugs wincing as she does.

“Eh I’m a warrior I’m used to it.” Faernil hissed and stood.

“Doesn’t mean you should be because of my incompetence!” He growls and stalks to the alchemy table realizing he doesn’t have the proper stock to make the potion. He stares down at the table a moment. He turns on his heel and looks at the woman.

“I’m an idiot.” Faernil states simply with a deadpan expression and she laughs.

“Out of ingredients?” He nods and packs up his small bag and paused. He wasn’t keen on walking around the city as he didn’t know what had happened with those that had screwed him over the first time. Yet.. He looks around at those in the room some were asleep some were talking with others. Some hated him and others were genuinely thankful. He walks out with a soft promise he’d be back shortly. He walks down and Yrsarald looks up from the map and blinks at him in shock.

“The golden angel has emerged from his healing room!” He says as a joke and Faernil laughs.

“I Wouldn’t if it weren’t for my lack of ability to help with dragon burns. The burns resist the healing of magic so I need to make a salve. Unfortunately I need to go on an ingredient trip.” Faernil sighs and Yrsarald frowns.

“You’ve been using your own stock... Let me see about getting some money for you to get more than some scraps pulled together.” He says and Faernil blushed and he bows his head in shocked thanks. He follows him out and sees Ulfric in a heated debate and hears him raise his voice when Galmar asks what drives him. That line.. ‘I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing! I fight... because I must.’ Faernil paused and shook softly. He stares down and starts whispering a prayer to all The Nine and their various names. He startles when a hand lands on his shoulder. Galmar is looking at him.

“What are you doing?” He asks eyes narrow in suspicion. Faernil blinks and goes to answer.

“Praying. For you lot.” A voice Faernil knows well and a smile breaks out on his face and a saying leaves him in altmeris that is roughly a saying that means a joyous meeting was upon those in the area. Martin smiles and says it back and walks up and hugs his mother who wraps his son in his arms tightly and Faernil can’t hold back a flood of heartfelt altmeris that was a garble of apologies and thanks that he’d come back safe. Martin was the last shred of family and happiness Faernil had and he hated being parted from him, especially when in such dangerous circumstances.

“You are going to give me grey hair.” Faernil sighs softly as he pulls back smiling at his son and thankful he was unharmed minor marks that never had been there. Faernil tuts and turns the young Martin’s face about frowning in worry.

“You’ve had close calls...” He notes and Martin blushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Calm down, I just don’t have as much experience dealing with loathsome pricks.” He jokes and Faernil laughs now suddenly uncomfortable.

“Martin... I might have experience, but that does not mean I don’t have close calls. Speaking of I need to go get supplies to help heal a woman covered in dragon burns.” Faernil says now side tracked back to his initial plans and Yrsarald laughs near Ulfric who watches eyes seeming like chips of cold ice sharp and piercing. Faernil paid it no mind but Martin seemed to. He caught the look and he stared right back his posture changed his form seeming to become charged. Faernil pushed it to the back of his mind and made a split decision.

“I’ll become a healer but I stay here... I can’t face what waits out in the open field. I’ve done enough for this gods forsaken continent. I refuse to hold dying men and women and hear names of their loved ones. I can’t handle that anymore, I will break, but healing the soldiers that come back... That I can do.” Faernil says softly and Ulfric nods.

“I’ll see to it you have what you need.” He says and Martin tosses a cloth to Galmar who catches it opening it he cracks a grin and chuckles.

“So you did it.” He says sounding approving and Martin looks at his mother.

“I’m a Stormcloak now right?” He asks and his mother pursed his lips Faernil won’t say a word against it. He nods and gestures his son forward.

“Fight for whatever cause fills your heart with courage and pride.” He says softly and Martin’s face lights up knowing Faernil wasn’t upset. The elf was however secretly terrified. He watched his son swear in and he looks to Ulfric who watches Martin a look in his eyes, it’s calculating. Faernil paces a bit in the alchemy shop later waiting for his order to be fully brought together by the master who was bickering at his apprentice. He ignores it and takes the bundle paying with money given to get the ingredients and he freezes as the man speaks of the vial and his apprentice insists he can’t go. Life work wasted... He had a foolish soft spot.

“Tell me more, I’m willing to go. No one should watch their life’s work wither in their twilight hours.” He says and the master explains much. As Faernil goes out he brews the salve and contemplates his soon to be new adventure. He carefully helps the woman apply the salve and he’d shown Wunfurth the salve and how it was made in case they needed more of it. He explained he was going on a short trip as there was an alchemy related relic he heard tail of and wished to look into it. Ulfric nods the people in Faernil’s care were all recovering, thus Faernil was free to do what he’d like.

The trip wasn’t bad in fact it was less an adventure than he’d thought. It was a fairly easy in and out trip. The sad part was getting the broken phail back sad to see the other mer look so crushed and despondent. The apprentice asks him for help once the altmer goes to lay down. Faernil pursed his lips, two he had on hand, powdered mammoth tusk could be used in potions to help set bones. The hart was merely an easy commodity. It was useful enough he liked having at least a few on hand.

“I’ve no clue how to get the snow... I have the other things but...” He sighs and he and the apprentice feel despondent as Faernil leaves and goes back to the palace and Faernil starts pouring through the library he finds in the Palace when he isn’t treating patients trying to find out where this unmelting snow could be or if it was possible to get at all. His son finds him in the room later that month leaning on his alchemy table heavily shaking all over as he can feel a heat flaring. He looks at his son who he’d told what to look for and Martin is frozen in shock never having thought he’d see his mother like this.

“A heat?” Faernil nods and he stands shakily and tries to move out of the room to go and find a place he can hide in until it passes but Martin stops him.

“I’ll go ask Ulfric for a place to hide you.” He says and rushes out Faernil shakily sits in a chair full body tremors wracking his form. He looks up at the door Martin coming in with Ulfric who paused never having seen the elf blush this fiercely and Faernil swallows thickly as all he wants to do is something he refuses to acknowledge.

“He needs to have a safe place to wait this out. I’m not going to have him get hurt not while I can protect him.” Martin says fiercely. Faernil looks down and starts up a mantra trying to keep his focus long enough he won’t jump someone and beg they help him. Ulfric helps him up which has Faernil on the verge of doing what he’s fighting not to he is panting heavily and trying hard to focus as he is placed in a room and Ulfric swears he’ll have Yrsarald watch it as Yrsarald was straight and respected the elf enough he’d keep the room secure until he came back to himself. Faernil lost any track of time from there. He woke up finally back to his senses and felt mortified. He hid in the room remembering foggy parts of the last couple days where he had tried seducing Yrsarald on several occasions. The door opens and Yrsarald peeks in.

“Ah, you’re aware again.” He says and Faernil sinks lower into the bed hiding under the blanket. The nord laughs softly.

“You might have tried jumping me but you were easy to put off. It’s Ulfric you’ll want to be more concerned about.” Yrsarald says placing a tray with food down.

“What did I do?” Faernil asks muffled and the nord laughs at the childish behavior.

“You may have had your tongue down his throat at some point when he had swapped with me to bring you food as I had to take care of something personal.” Yrsarald says. Faernil screams into the soft bed and Yrsarald walks out trying not to laugh. Eventually the elf comes down in his healing robes, he’d switched out of his typical ones hoping to make an impression and not be shouted through a wall for his horrible behavior when the cycle he went through hit. His robes are styled like the clothes back on the Isle, they had a creamy over-robe a white under-robe that was only held closed by the fawn colored belt that kept it wrapped proper then the high colored grey undershirt and leather leggings he wore under it his black travel boots were a staple. He walks down and froze hearing Ulfric talking with Martin.

“He wasn’t thinking clearly he didn’t mean to offend or give any suggestions, Jarl, he’ll probbably be mortified of what he’s done when he comes to.” Martin was saying nervously and Ulfric sounds flustered when he replies.

“He stuck his tongue down my throat and you tell me he wasn’t trying to mean anything by it!?” Faernil feels like sinking into the floor.

“According to half the troops he’s treated you’re a lucky sod.” Galmar says and Ulfric growls as Martin makes a choked sound possibly fake gagging at the thought. Faernil stays where he is too afraid to go further.

“Lucky! Lucky that he’ll be disgusted when he’s clear headed?” Ulfric barks and Martin shouts next.

“I said mortified! He isn’t like the Thalmor! Don’t you dare accuse him of thinking men to be beneath him!” Martin sounds offended and Faernil knows his son’s temper when he feels his mother’s being insulted and sweeps out Ulfric who’d gone to shout back at the newer Stormcloak froze eyes locking onto Faernil;s form the instant he stepped into the hall. Martin though was getting ready to start up a new round of insults and Faernil swept up and wrapped a hand over his mouth. Looking down unable to meet the nord’s gaze Faernil met Martin’s when his son looked back and up at him. Faernil hid his tears as well as he could.

“Don’t yell at the Jarl, Martin. He has a reason for thinking I’d feel that way, though who I’m disgusted with isn’t him. I should have better control of myself. You need to watch your temper.” Faernil says softly. He steps back and bows to Ulfric and turns to head back to the healing room.

“I have patients to tend to but my most sincere apology my Jarl. My behavior was abhorrent and I regret you seeing that. I’ll take care the next one is somewhere it won’t bother anyone.” Faernil states walking away. Yrsarald sees him and goes to say something but seeing the pained expression and tears stops him and he watches as the mer moves up the stairs like someone lit his robes on fire. He paused set down his map and walked into the hall.

“Who the fuck upset him and who am I throwing through a wall?” He asks and Martin points at Ulfric and Ulfric paused blinking at Yrsarald in confusion.

“I’m not sure why he’s upset... Other than the incident. Why are you this upset?” Ulfric’s curious Yrsarald rarely got this confrontational unless fighting. Yrsarald glares at his Jarl.

“Respectfully Jarl Ulfric, he’d been upset he jumped you as he’d been afraid he’d caused offense. He hadn’t been crying when he came out here, and he’d been listening for a while before walking out. So, what the hell has him that upset?” Yrsarald asks calmly though he’s giving off pure rage. Galmar looks at Ulfric.

“You might want to go talk to him.” He suggests and Martin nods sagely watching Ulfric who looks at the three who stare at him in varying stages of rage to Galmar’s bland unimpressed expression.

“If my mom is crying when I go up to him to tell him I help Quintis fix that stupid Phail I will shout you through a wall. Just a heads up.” Martin states walking out of the palace and Yrsarald points at the room with the stairs that lead up. Ulfric sighs. When had his life become this much of a disaster? He walks up and hears several voices in the room several asking the elf if he was okay. The mer gave a reply but it was too soft for Ulfric to hear, he moves closer and pressed an ear to the door.

“You mean... You went through a weird... Elf cycle thing... Which makes it really hard for you to focus let alone reason out not to do certain things that increase your chances of getting laid... Kissed the Jarl and now you’re terrified he’s disgusted with you and is angry?” A soldier asks. There’s a painful sounding laugh.

“Yes that about sums up my epic stupidity. I can’t recall everything.. It takes a while after a cycle... I... I haven’t had to deal with them in so long since I’ve always had Martin with me and now of all times I go and practically spit in my host’s face...” Faernil’s voice; Ulfric knows it well enough and there’s snickers in the room.

“Mouth more like...” Someone jokes there’s laughs but a groan he can tell is the elf.

“Please it is not amusing the least bit. I might literally die and you all are making it sound as if he’ll skip in here laugh it off and tell me what a grand job I’m doing.” Faernil whines and they all go quite.

“He won’t risk chasing off such a great healer. It would loose too many men and women. Even if you are an altmer, you aren’t such a bad catch, in my opinion he’s lucky he got a kiss. He’d be foolish to be offended and angry, I mean if he’s straight he should brush it off, if not pursuing you be a great idea.” A female says and Faernil laughs.

“I’m flattered sweet heart but I don’t think the Jarl feels the same. His words were and I quote ‘Lucky! Lucky that he’ll be disgusted when he’s clear headed!’“ Faernil sighs sounding sad almost.

“Wow you have it hard for the Jarl don’t you?” That’s Ralof, he comes up to talk with the elf when not on a mission. Ulfric listens not sure why, he thinks it must be because this elf had treated everyone with the same level of care even the man that almost hurt him he had treated to his full capability. There’s a long stretch of silence then a heavy thump against the door someone sliding down by the sound of it. Then softly he hears a sob.

“Why do The Nine hate me?” It’s Faernil.

“No! Don’t cry! Please, I’m terrible at this kind of thing! Gurdur says so all the time!” It’s Ralof again and there’s rustling faintly and then he feels a softer thump against the door.

“I’m not crying!” Faernil hissed and Ulfric can almost see the elf rubbing stubbornly at his face and storming away from Ralof. The elf had been kind in all his interactions it wasn’t hard to see how and why he had made so many friends so quickly.

“Dear, you look like you’re drowning. Sit down and talk it out; you look like you need it.” A female soldier says and Ulfric hears the rustle of movement and then Faernil starts talking.

“I... I Don’t know when, why, or how, all I know is he caught my attention. Heh... Actually how I do know... ‘I fight so that all the fighting I’ve already done hasn’t been for nothing!’ He’s... I know that feeling... I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve given as much as you possibly can and yet you’re being pushed into a corner more and more being demanded and you feel like you’re drowning... And you fight because you can do nothing else. You dig in your heels and you bare your teeth because the things you’ve already done will not be for nothing. I... He isn’t bad on the eyes I suppose... I like his laugh it’s deep like thunder... I don’t know if I can stand it if I have to keep standing alone... Martin’s an adult I can’t keep shadowing him... He’ll need to be alone to grow... Mommy can’t just smother him his whole life.” Faernil sighs and Ralof speaks up.

“You won’t be alone. Each of us you’ve made friends with will be here and if not Ulfic someone out there will love you, no one who can see how much you care from your soul not fall head over heels for you.” Ralof says and there’s agreement echoed in the room.

“I have a brother that I know has an elf fetish.” A man speaks up ad there’s a groan and a round of laughs. Faernil sighs at least Ulfric thinks he does.

“You lot are a great help but... No thank you... I don’t need a blind date. I just need my heart to stop being so foolish. I lost Martin Septim in The Oblivion Crisis... Even if I could have the Jarl... What’s to say I won’t loose him to this war?” Faernil asks as he stands and walks to the other end of the room and starts on his potions he’ll need to help some injuries that his healing magic won’t do much for. Ulfric stands in shock at the other side of the door and feels a heavy feeling in his chest. He had a terrible experience at the hands of elves, Thalmor, and since then he’s been distant or outright hostile towards them. He turns unable to face the elf that he isn’t sure he can face in front of others right now.

Yrsarald sees him and paused he can tell Ulfric isn’t sure what to do and has obviously learned something that’s troubling him. So he’ll just wait. Ulfric goes to Galmar and they talk of the next moves on the war. Ulfric has little clue how he feels on this or even how to react with the new knowledge. It takes months before he has even the smallest clue. In that time Faernil has come and gone several times coming back looking exhausted and skirting the hall as if trying to avoid attention, or maybe Ulfric. He eventually grows comfortable near the Jarl but the elf keeps a poised air and acts with nothing but respect towards Ulfric.

When a dragon attacks the city Faernil is one of the first to respond as he is out in the city when it happens. The shriek it lets out as it rears it’s head back and tries to scorch the area Faernil just throws his hands up with a chant on his lips the fire raining down stopped and held at bay as people flee and soldiers and guards respond rushing forward drawing their bows and Faernil chants keeping the shield though sweat beads at his brow as the heat stings his palms. He lets it fall as the fire dies and he spins ice gathering around him he throws an ice spike straight into it’s face and as it’s head thrashed he gathers lightening and runs forward he leaps onto a smaller wall and leaps higher Ulfric had rushed out planning to use his own thu’um to fight the beast back and watches as Faernil let’s lose a bolt of bright violet light that lands straight in the beasts open maw. It thrashed body going limp and it falls as Faernil lands it’s body dropping down onto him Faernil spins down and crouched magic flaring around him as the beast lands on him.

“Get him out from under it!” Ulfric shouts and the troops rush to help him move the dragon Faernil is crouched in a glimmering shield but he’s shaking and the shield crashed as he drops face first into the snowy cobbles. Ulfric hefts the dragon as high as he can off the elf and barks at someone to get the elf. Ralof who had been in the city to report how a mission he lead went ducks under and drags the elf out and lays him down patting his face and trying to wake him as everyone else drops the dragon and turn to watch.

“Faernil, wake up... You’re too stubborn to die...: Ralof says nervous as he pats the elf’s face again. He winced and back handed him and the elf’s eyes go wide they glow blue and a shock sends Ralof flying a few feet through the snow with a yelp. The elf sits up panting looking around wide eyed and when he sees Ralof smoking he goes pale and slips trying to stand too quickly and getting caught on his robes.

“Damit!” He shouts and Ulfric hauls him to his feet Faernil doesn’t pause he rushes to Ralof and crouched hands shaking as he checks for a pulse. He hides his face in his hands.

“You don’t wake up a mage that’s magically exhausted you idiot. You lucky idiot.” Faernil sighs. He drinks a mana potion and sends a gentle wave of healing over the nord who groans and sits up.

“Got it... Next time Ulfric hits you...” He groused rubbing his chest with a wince and Faernil turns looking at the group.

“I... Thank all of you... I wasn’t going to be able to hold that shield up and the dragon off of me much longer... I wasn’t even sure that the lightening was going to kill it...” Faernil says looking down and someone shouts about it not being dead and Faernil responds so quickly Ulfric’s surprised the elf didn’t slip. He summons a spectral blade and embeds it in the beast’s remaining eye.

“Stay down!” He shouts and lightening lights up around him his eyes glow the same soft violet as the sparks surging around him and the dragon thrashed and then went still smoke curling up from it and Faernil sways smoke rising from his hands he waves one and laughs.

“It’s dead now..” He chuckles and falls into the snow. Ulfric cursed and checks for a pulse he picks up the elf and brings him to the healing room asking Wunfurth to look the elf over and the mage tries and sighs.

“Ulfric I’m no healer... He’s drained but I can sense he’s alive and not shattered so he’s not likely to die but if or when he’ll wake up I don’t know.” He says and pats the man’s shoulder as he walks out. Ulfric feels cold dread as he sits down in the chair by the bed. If Martin found out he’d die. It takes a week for the elf to stir and even then his hands are burned from his stunts with the lightening antics he’d pulled and his mana is sluggish and slow to build he’s virtually useless as far as magic goes. Wunfurth suggests he not to heavy tasks with his hands and mentions alchemy is in fact on that list and Faernil looks upset, more so than anyone has seen.

“I don’t want to be useless!” He protests and Martin had just walked in.

“What?” He asks eyes becoming daggers and Faernil looks at his son.

“I killed a dragon and may have... I burnt my hands and drained my mana...” Faernil explains and Martin sighs. He looks exasperated as he walks over to his mother he folds his hands over his mother’s and chants softly a glow around their hands. He pulls back unravels the bandages and smiles up at his mother.

“You’ll be able to do alchemy now! Just don’t stress you’re magic please... We both know you can shatter your core... Please, I might be an adult now but I’m not ready to loose you.” He says hugging his mother close and Faernil sighs and hug Martin back he buries his face in the dirty blond hair.

“I can’t promise you forever, Martin... But I won’t do anything too foolish... Not unless I need to.” He swears and smiles at his son. Martin grins uneasily and nods. It’s several months later when they ride out to Solitude. Faernil goes because he worries and because he needs to be there to help. It is weird and many comment on it but he gives the same answer.

“A battle healer is useful on the front line.” Faernil’s face is set in cold determination but Ulfric can see he is afraid. The night before they would start the siege Ulfric goes to the elf’s tent. He had broached becoming at least a friend to the elf during the time the elf was recovering after felling the dragon. He had to address the fear he saw.

“You don’t have to be here. I can see you’re afraid. If you don’t want to see the death that will wait for us tomorrow you can leave.” Ulfric says and Faernil looks up holding that same shattered ruby from their first meeting.

“I can’t do that Ulfric. I need to see something... No someone through this fight. Even if it kills me.” He says solemnly. Ulfric grits his teeth.

“You don’t need to protect Martin, he’s a capable warrior, he’s felled dragons, Sovengard he’s the Dragonborn! He can use the Thu’um even better than I can.” Ulfric argues and Faernil smiles softly.

“I’m not talking about Martin. He has his father’s blood running strong in him, he’ll die on his terms and his terms only.” Faernil says softly and Ulfric paused, and decides to reveal what he knew.

“Then you’ve followed me here.” He says and Faernil nods still keeping his neutral expression. They had grown close the elf shattering wall after wall Ulfric had tried to put up and the elf had helped him improve the city while he played War Chief. His reputation had improved and he had worked to treat elves like he would everyone else as after all not all altmer were Thalmor and Faernil had proved it over and over and over again.

“You’re afraid you’ll lose someone precious in this war.” He says and Faernil nods again swallowing thickly.

“Tell me then... If I asked you to come to my tent, to spend this last night of war with me?” Ulfric asks and Faernil suddenly looks conflicted.

“I... I want to more than I have words to explain... But I can’t... If you fall tomorrow...” Faernil looks terrified and Ulfric moves in close and kneels down cupping the elf’s face.

“I’ll be here until we collide.” Ulfric swears and the elf flushed and leans in gauging if he’s dreaming sure of it when lips meet his. Shocked when the kiss grows deeper and a jolt runs through him alerting him to two facts. One he would spend the night with Ulfric and two, he was certainly not dreaming.

“I don’t care if I survive... You Ulfric have been a light to me for a while... If I can love one last time... Then I’ll die happy even if we fall tomorrow.” Faernil whispers and it’s an oath Ulfric feels it in his bones.

“I plan on making you my Queen so neither of us dies tomorrow, that’s an order.” Ulfric smirks as Faernil smiles.

“As you wish, my King.” Faernil’s eyes glow with sheer joy and Ulfric is glad to have seen that before they go to the final battle.

#mentions of m!preg #skyrim fanfiction #fanfiction content #Ulfric Stormcloak x OC #get up and write!#get up and write! challenge #Mother's being mother's #xenophobia

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thedisc0panda · 6 years

Text

Tricks of the trade (Isabelle Belet)

An unedited thing that took way too long but here have the Riften trio (Isabelle the assassin, Abigail the thief and Olivia the mage respectively) attempting to learn to do each other's jobs. If you like this perhaps check out my other works at disibilitydiaries.blogspot.com Abigail and I move quickly through the shadows, with Olivia struggling to keep up. While she is the smallest of the three of us, she's not the best at moving unheard, or unseen. We stop waiting in the shadows at corner of a building. Olivia doesn't notice and continues a few more paces before Abigail darts out and grabs her. Placing a hand over her mouth as she drags her back. “You make a sound and it's game over, okay? Remember that.” She whispers and Olivia nods. “I'm going to release you now make sure you stay quiet.” She nods and Abbie withdraws the hand over her mouth, still holding Olivia against her for a second. A guard begins to turn the corner and I pull him into the shadows slitting his throat easily. “See Livvy, you gotta learn stuff like that.” Abigail jokes gesturing to me as I wipe the blade and search the fallen guard. “Honestly I'd advise against that. Stick with magic, Olivia. You're better at that. Though maybe learn a few simple things with a dagger or a sword besides basic stuff?” Olivia crosses her arms and gives us both a less than pleased look “Fine. But if I have to learn to be an assassin and a thief you two have to learn magic.” Abbie claps her hands slightly out of excitement “Oh yay we’ll be summoning Daedra in no time!” Liv struggles to hide her amusement, as she always does around Abbie. “Alright, let's keep going.” I urge them on towards the gate of the city and we sneak out easily enough, quickly finding our things stashed on the outskirts of Riften. “Now where do we go?” Abbie asks gathering her things. “Well, I have to go back to Nazir in Falkreath and tell him the contract is done. You two can come with me if you want.” Olivia interjects saying she has to stop in Winterhold quickly and we plan a route. Going North to Winterhold first before turning Southwest through Windhelm and the ruins of Helgan before going finally to Falkreath. “Please tell me we’re taking the horses.” Abigail says wearily after hearing the plan. “I don't wanna walk all that way.” Securing my things and climbing up onto my horse I look at her “Of course we’re taking the horses. Now let's go.” The other two quickly climb on and we begin to ride for Winterhold. Time to learn some magic I guess. “Liv! Why's this place so cold!!” Abbie yells ahead as we ride into the crumbling city. “It's northern Skyrim and on the sea of ghosts. That's why!” She yells back leading her horse to the stable and climbing off, tethering it to a post. We dismount, Abbie rather clumsy, balance was never her strongest skill. She clutches her jacket closer to her shivering and out of sympathy I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her close, walking up the few steps and into the Inn behind Olivia. “Stupid snow. Stupid cold weather. Stupid everything.” Abbie grumbles to herself and takes a seat by the fire. Olivia sits next to her and orders our food while I go check in. “Room for three please.” I tell the innkeeper and place the money on the counter. He counts it and being satisfied tells me the rooms downstairs. Returning to my friends I relay the information, and it seems I sat down at the perfect time, the foods here. We sit in front of the fire, watching the flames as we eat making conversation every so often. Olivia explains what she has to do while we’re here and what Abbie and I should do in the meantime. After taking our time finishing out meals we go to sleep. Or at least the other two do, I stay up for a while sharpening my daggers. “Alright, so just stay with me, don't do anything stupid, and try not to get yourselves blown up. Also don't volunteer for any experiments. Abbie I'm mostly talking to you. And don't steal anything from the library either of you unless as the librarian says ‘you want to be torn apart by angry atronachs’ because he's not kidding.” Olivia says as we cross the bridge to the college of Winterhold. “You could kill someone with a bridge with this many cracks how's it not break?! Isn't this a safety hazard!” Abbie narrowly dodges a crumbling part of the bridge. “That's probably the point. Should anyone ever attack all they'd really need to is destroy the bridge or at least push the attackers off of it down into the chasm beneath us.” I explain as we finish crossing, Abigail gives me a slightly scared look. “Don't worry about it.” I say patting her head lightheartedly, a feat that only scares her more. “Both of you keep up!” Olivia scolds and we run to catch up as she crosses the courtyard and into the main lecture hall. “This is my class. The professor already knows you're coming. So just follow me.” Silently we watch for a moment before the professor dismisses the other students to finish their independent studies and comes over to us. Along with help from Olivia, Abbie and I are soon casting simple spells. Being Breton makes it easier than it would be others wise though we both have a bit of trouble controlling things. But with practice and focus I'm sure it could be mastered. Olivia, Abigail, and I stay in Winterhold for a few days before heading off to our next location, Windhelm. The city of Windhelm is not a pleasant one though it's a better place than Riften in my opinion only it's colder. “Okay Olivia, I want you to go steal something from that market.” Abigail says as we stand off to the side looking into the square from behind a stone wall. “What do I steal?” She asks and Abbie gives her a look “The most expensive thing you could fit in your pocket or food. Obviously. Now go!” She pushes her into the square and grabs me to go hide somewhere we can watch but don't look suspicious, and so we head for the rooftops. The top of the blacksmith building is fairly flat and so we sit up there watching as Olivia makes her way through the market, settling upon a series of stalls owned by an altmer merchant who sells a variety of wares. The merchant turns and walks away for a moment to talk to another nearby merchant selling food. Olivia checks for guards and slips something too small for us to see into her pockets, and continues to go about her business. “Alright good job Livvy!” Abbie quietly cheers and claps next to me. I find it rather surprising that she was not caught by the guards. Olivia makes her way over to us after Abbie and I climbed down from the rooftop and reveals the stolen items. An apple and a diamond and sapphire bracelet, impressive for a new thief. Abbie takes the bracelet for “safe-keeping” and stashes it in her bag, leading us toward the Grey Quarter and introduces us to her fence in the region who gives us a good deal on a few needed items before we head south for our last destination and task, assassinations in Falkreath. “Nazir I'm back!!” I yell entering the sanctuary. “And I brought my friends if that's alright!” We find him in his usual spot by the fire looking over recent contracts. “Oh, Hi.” Nazir says giving Abbie and Liv no more than a glance before handing me a pile of papers “These are for you. The quicker you do them the faster you get paid and the more we get.” I look over the contracts, nothing too bad. “What's that?” Olivia asks looking at the paper curiously “It's a contract. It has the name of the person who's been marked for death and where to find them. As well as the amount of payment.” Olivia makes a less than pleased face “If I had to pick between theft and assassinations I think I'd pick thief.” I shrug “To each their own. Now let's go murder some people. Follow me.” Gathering my needed materials I lead them out of the sanctuary. “Falkreath is a gloomy town.” Abigail remarks as we wander through it looking for a wandering noble traveling through these parts. Continuing along the road we find him, hiding in between the trees to avoid being seen. “Alright Livvy here's the trick, you take out the guard first.” I explain pointing to the imperial guard walking in front of the noble who instead rides. “Then you get that guy before he rides off. Simple enough right?” Olivia nods “What do I use though?” She asks and I think for a moment “Well there's no one around so you could use magic if you wanted to. Perhaps a frenzy spell as long as we remain undetected or a bow and arrow if you're a good shot at all. I know Abigail is decent at least.” I pause for a moment “In fact I've got a better idea. Abbie you kill the guard and LIv you kill the noble.” Abigail grins slightly “Is that just because I'm better at this sort of thing?” I shake my head “Not completely no but I want both of you to get experience in case it saves you in the long run. Because you won't always have easy to get out of jobs and Olivia might just summon something less than ideal. As you said earlier, or I believe it was you Abbie, tricks of the trade. Now c'mon go murder them we haven't got all day.” I push them toward the edge of our cover and give Abigail a bow and arrow. Liv waits off to the side and is a bit surprised at Abbie's good shot, the arrow went straight through his head. The noble of course begins to freak out though Olivia works quickly, a simple sparks spell is all it really takes and a matter of seconds. “Well done you two. I'll give you my payment to split since you both helped.” Olivia yawns “Can we go home now? All this learning about different things is making me tired.” She asks stretching and swinging her arms around. “Like someone said, tricks of the trade.” Abbie laughs “But I agree it is tiring.” She says getting up from searching the guard and the noble. “Yes we can go home now.” I say with a sigh as we walk along the road south following the setting sun. Tricks of the trade indeed.

#M writes #TES #Skyrim #Isabelle Belet #Olivia Curtin #Abigail Center #My OCs #writing

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