I dream of nothing, seeing only a black background with dancing shadows. That is, until cheering from downstairs wakes me up. I practically jump out of bed, startled.
"DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!", "YEAH!!", and "EMPTY THE MUG!!" I hear being chanted. Deep male voices interposed with some lighter, reedier feminine tones throng through the halls. Looking around wildly, I see light from some holes in the floor display the cozy interior decor.
I get out of the bed and stretch a bit before putting my bare essentials of armor and weaponry on. I look at my new sword, grinning at the fact that I was able to obtain one so easily. In the game, I was always given an iron weapon, or a steel one at best. Sometimes they weren't even weapons. I've been given a shield about three times, despite it being a "blade of office". Was I supposed to sharpen the edge of the shield or some shit?
I knock on Lucia's door, checking if she's awake, before I head downstairs. Hearing no response, I assume she's either downstairs already, or she's still asleep.
A group of men and women are standing in a circle around the side of the bar. Throughout the group, there were mixed species of people. There were at least two or three Khajiit, an Orc, a couple Argonians, and two Dark Elves. The majority of the group, however, were Nords, Imperials, and Bretons.
They're all wearing weapons and armor that clearly demonstrates their positions in their group, such as the Elven scouts wearing darker sets of light armor and bows, and the Imperials wearing heavy sets of armor, tower shields and maces and swords. The Nords, however, have little to no armor, wearing only fur kilts, brigandine skirts, and carrying massive two handed weapons such as battle-axes and greatswords strapped to their backs using leather cords. I wonder how they stood the cold. I'm a Nord, too, but it's pretty friggin' cold half the time. The Bretons wore the armor of knights, full suits of steel or plated armor.
The entire group has either gambesons, scarves, cloaks, capes, or simply a strip of cloth, all colored the same shade of crimson red. I assume it's to demonstrate that they're all of the same organization, a uniform coloring of some kind. They sort of remind of the Bloods, a gang in Los Angeles.
I look around the bar and search for Hulda and Lucia. I'm not able to spot Lucia, but I am able to find Hulda, glowering next to a massive mead barrel I hadn't noticed before. She had her arms crossed, her eyes shut, and she had a large frown on her face. She clenches her jaw, and squeezes her fists as more shouts break out among the band of warriors at the bar.
As I walk closer to her, I hear her muttering through gritted teeth, "It's only the ninth hour of the morning, and yet they're already here..."
She continues to say stuff under her breath, before hearing me clear my throat a little. Her eyes snap open and she takes a step forward, setting her gaze to an attempt at a calm look, but still seemingly pissed off, rightfully so. The group of people behind me are pretty damn loud at this point, and I can barely stand it myself.
"Yes, what can I do for you?" She says, dutifully.
"Ah, could I get some food?" I ask her, trying not to sound as if I knew I'm walking on eggshells. I forgot to eat last night, so I'm pretty hungry right now. Hulda's face soothes as she hears my request.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I should have some soup on the hearth still. Let me go and get you a bowl."
She heads over to the group and tries to quiet them down a little, before heading to the hearth, and looking inside a large cauldron. She raises her arms to her head, before pinching the bridge of her nose. I can see her pushing down rage, as she walks back over to me, pinching the bridge of her nose.
When she reached me, she says, "Please give me a few minutes to cook something up. It seems we're all out of soup. "
"Please take all the time you want. If I could get away from that group too, I would." I placate her. The group is getting on my nerves. Hulda sighs, looking at me in relief. She thanks me, then walks away grabbing a pan and some eggs.
I sit on a bench nearby the hearth and flip between watching Hulda cook and the group cheer.
The companionship in that group is clear. They've either fought together with each other for some time, or they've been friends for years. Probably both.
My heart starts to hurt, as I look at them. I miss my friends...
"We're the Crimson Stream Marauders, in case you were wondering." A British- sounding male voice breaks out from among the group. It came from an Breton man shorter than me, with black hair cropped down to his shoulders, wrapped into a ponytail. He had skin the color of parchment, a light olive sort of color that had beige tones. He clearly was their leader, bearing a medal of some kind on his ornate armor. The armor was clearly built for a knight of some kind.
"Sorry?" I was lost in thought when they spoke, and I wasn't listening.
"Ears go' a 'ittle bi' o' wax in 'em." A Scottish accented person joked from the group loudly, earning some light chuckling. Or at least, their voice *sounded* Scottish to some degree. After all, I'm not in real life anymore.
"You were looking at us like you thought you were we suspicious or something. So, I gave you an introduction. We're the Crimson Stream Marauders."
Crimson Stream Marauders? I don't remember a Crimson Stream Marauders crew back in the game. This is outside of my experiences, so far. I knew reality would be different, but I didn't expecting random people to just walk up and introduce themselves to me.
"O... kay? I'm the new Thane. And?" I answer, not trying to sound too rude.
Man, I was just trying to have a nice nostalgic moment, but now they've gone and ruined it for me. Oh, well.
Upon hearing my response, they laugh.
"Bloimey! You're the new Thane?!" The Scottish-sounding one said, mockingly.
"Hah!"
"I call bull shite on 'at."
"If you're the new Thane, then J'm Queen Potema!"
"An' I'm the Empera!"
Several cries rang out, along with quite a bit of laughter. The last two of them were especially adamant about my apparent inability to be the Thane. I wait for them to stop laughing, and hold my gaze on them, confident.
"I really am. You can ask any guard. They probably know what I look like by now. Besides the fact that this blade here is my badge of office."
I gesture to my new ebony sword.
"Oi, look, chap. That's really not something to joke about, y'know? Now, that sword might expensive, but to say you're the Thane, and using that as proof." The British-sounding Imperial said. He now has a bit of a worried look on his face. As he speaks, he walks closer to me, raising his arms in a show of peacekeeping.
"Like, Thanes are noblemen, yeah? Maybe the lowest, but they're of two types here: the vicious, and the cunning. And from what I hear, the newest Thane is the Dragonborn. He's quite possibly the biggest of them all recently. You try and impersonate him, you're gonna be in some trouble. Now, I'm trying to keep you out. But, you're kinda making it hard."
I nod as he speaks. I would certainly consider my actions as both vicious and cunning. After all, the main method of fighting dragons in the game was to wait for them to fly to the ground and deal damage then, you use arrows and magic to attack them from range. I myself preferred using all methods in the game, summoning Dremora, using fireballs, my swords or axes, and my bow when I run out of magic. I especially use Shouting to disrupt their breaths. My new technique of dragon trapping was unlike anything the people of here have even thought of.
"Well, if you want me to confirm myself, here. I'll summon the guards myself." I stand up, really hoping that whatever guard appears is one that has seen me, at the least.
I stand up, and the Crimson Stream Marauders all take a couple steps back. After all, in their eyes, I must be suicidal. That, or I really am the Thane. Which in this case, is equally terrifying.
I walk to the door, and wait a few seconds for a guard patrol to walk by. I wave them over.
In the patrol, there are four guards. They're all Nords.
"Citizen?" One of them asks. He has a deep, strong voice that was similar, but not the same of the original voice actor's voice for the game. Gasping, and realizing something, one salutes me, snapping his right fist over his heart, his left behind his back, and dipping his head down a little bit. Nobody else notices what he did due to the guards in front of him.
"Have any of you been in the palace yesterday?" I start, very slightly nodding to the one who realized whatever he did. He relaxed and stood straight up again.
The Marauders behind stand in awe, mouths agape. This is the moment where I either get imprisoned or am put on a pedestal.
The guards take off their helms and place under their arms. They turn and face each other.
"Let's see... Ah, Moric, Thom, Harald, where were you guys yesterday? I was just switched out of patrolling the roads. I spent most of the day asleep at the barracks while off."
Harald didn't even get a chance to answer, as the other two step forward.
Moric, a slightly tanned young man in his mid-20's, answered first. "Uhhh... I was on leave for the last few days."
Thom, the one who saluted me, has paler skin, and is around the same age as me (late teens/early 20's), looks at me, "I-I-I think I can help, I was at the palace yesterday. What do you need?"
"Great. Did you see what the new Thane looked like? And could you tell me the significance of this sword?" I ask.
Thom looks confused. "But... You're the Thane? Did- did you forget what you look like? Oh! And, uh..., That's your badge of office, isn't it? It's really beautiful. That blade hasn't seen combat in several years, so you'll want to sharpen it. Or, uh, that's what one of the guards at the Jarl's personal armory told me. "
"Ah... I apologize, Thane. This is our first meeting." The first guard apologizes. He holds out an open hand and arm in greeting.
I grab his wrist, and as he grabs mine, we shake before dropping our arms. I turn around, and face the Marauders.
"So, that solves that. Nice to meet you all. Drake, at your service. And yes, I am the Dragonborn." I smile and say. I give a short bow.
"Thane." The Marauders faces display their surprise. They start to mutter against themselves.
"Well, bite my arse, and call me a troll. He really *is* the new Thane."
"By the Nine..."
"Dragonborn... Shite."
"Damn. I guess I'd better soon find a dress, then."
I ignore the rest of their mutters, and turn back to the guards.
"Thank you, Thom. For your troubles." I pass to him three gold pieces. Thom, still confused at the situation, takes the three gold, and the guards put their helms back on and continue patrolling.
I then head back inside, to where Hulda is finishing cooking up the eggs. I sit at the bar. The Crimson Stream Marauders are all silent now, quietly whispering amongst themselves.
"Aaaand, here you go. Thank you for shutting them up." She places the eggs on a wooden platter next to a fork, and hands it over to me. I take them, and start eating. Turns out she made an omelet, with sausages, finely-chopped potatoes, butter, and a little garlic. It tastes amazing, the flavors blending very well. I finish eating, thank her and pay her 10 gold for the meal.
I pay for Lucia to and ask Uthgerd to keep an eye on her. Speaking of Uthgerd, it turns out the reason I hadn't seen her at the inn was because she got hadn't even gone to the inn.
I walk around town, looking for nothing in particular, and I eventually come across Lydia, standing near a line of people outside a shop. The store I don't recognize in the slightest, named Beatrice's Clothes and Shoes. Lydia's standing with her back to me. She had her arms crossed and her eyes shut tightly. She's clearly lost in thought.
I approach quietly. "Hi." I greet her.
"By the Eight-!" She leaps nearly six feet from me, her hand on a dagger. She's a little mad. She takes a breath, and calms herself down. She takes her hand off her dagger and comes closer to me, but still a good three to four feet away.
"Thane." She nods at me.
*Wow*. Not many people can do a standing long jump of six feet. I'm impressed, and applaud a little. "Nice reaction, but if I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead."
"This is not a very good second impression, my Thane." Lydia nearly growls at me.
I raise my hands, trying to placate her. "I wasn't trying to scare you, I promise. You were simply lost in thought, and didn't notice me."
Lydia tries to defend herself, but stops, realizing I'm right. "I- no, I suppose that's true. Fine. What are you doing here, my Thane?"
"Ah-ha!," I start, victoriously. "I'm glad you asked."
"Aaand, I'm not." Lydia interrupts me, quite snappish.
Oooh... The "real" version of Lydia is quite feisty. Can't say I don't like that. I don't know why, but it feels almost as if I've known this Lydia for years.
I continue, unbothered, "Well, to put it short. Basically, I got bored. So, I'm walking around, trying to get a good mental picture of this city. See it's highs and lows."
Lydia lets out a soft "hmm," and in a much less angry tone, "My Thane. Be that the case, how about I guide you around the city?"
"But don't have business here, buying... Whatever you were going to buy?" I ask. I don't want to her to do something she doesn't want to do.
"Store's not going anywhere, and it'll be open for a while."
What a kind gesture. "As you would, then."
For the rest of the day, Lydia guides me around the city, pointing out certain spots. For instance, an Empire-backed bank. This bank was never in the game. Not only did offer both credit and debit promissory notes, made of thin cards of orichalcum and inlaid with engravings filled with silver dust, but it also offered an international currency exchange, as some provinces of the Empire don't specifically accept Septims as a whole, and currencies for areas that were more cut off from the Empire.
Lydia also shows me a notice board near the Bannered Mare that I missed, that held requests for adventurers to take. On it were several dozen different requests, but the majority of them seemed to correspond in the lines of kidnappings. I think something dangerous might happening, so I take a mental note of it, and intend on reporting my worries to the Jarl. I tell Lydia about it and my fears regarding it, and she answers some questions that I ask in relation to the kidnappings.
She also directs me to a publicly-funded bathhouse, and discreetly hints for me to clean myself up later. I didn't even notice, but it seems my standards for personal hygiene fell the day I crossed into this world. And my speaking style has acclimated to one that a natural denizen of this world would have. It feels almost too natural for me to speak like a character in Skyrim. I did a little LARPing once, but that wasn't something I generally practiced or used. Something seems... off about that.
The bathhouse, combined with the clearly superior and excellent plumbing of a bucket and some underground tunnels, would also explain why this city doesn't smell terrible, like medieval France. They're not dumping their waste and refuse into the streets, they're utilizing an underground sewage system.
After that, she shows me to an area of the Plains district that was never in the game either: an open-air, bazaar-style marketplace. This type of market was never in the game, or at least in Whiterun, anyways. It smells incredible here, a myriad of scents washing over me. Food, spices, the metallic scents of gold being rubbed and passing through hands, mixed with the scents of butchered meat and the sounds of peddlers selling their wares cast a certain feeling over me. A sort of fantastical feeling that only grew as I watch the various species of both customers and peddlers exchange wares and converse. Families, single people, and orphans dart to and fro in the crowd, and over them, the cawing of crows, the bleating of sheep, and the moo's of cows, cast a wave of ambience that cities in my old world didn't really have.
Lydia eventually takes me to a restaurant's outdoor dining area, and sits me at a table, before calling over a waiter. An Argonian in waitress's clothing walks over to us. Her vibrant, forest-green scales enunciate her slitted yellow eyes, and her long tail sways back and forth as she takes each step, just under her bountiful waist and large breasts. It's her! It's her! The Lusty Argonian Maid! (I'm lying. It's definitely not her. Her breasts and hips weren't as large as they were detailed in the TLAM.)
She speaks to us in the slight drawl of a native of Black Marsh. Her voice is slightly raspy, but it's still very clear.
"Good day. How may I be of ssservice?"
Whether it was intentional or not, she ended up elongating the 's' sound in 'service'. This fact made me smile a little, but not out of ill will.
Lydia takes control, and orders for the both of us. "A Nordic ale and a Breton red wine."
"Since you ordered, I'll pay."
I nod to the waitress before thanking her, and ask Lydia how she knew what I wanted before I even said it. After seeing Uthgerd and Jenassa, I actually didn't want alcohol, but I should make her feel better at least. At the very least, it'd get a conversation started.
She smiles proudly, putting her hands to her waist, before declaring that, "I've been paying attention to what questions you asked. Anyone who wants to help people in danger are usually of the hero type, and hero types don't drink the hard stuff, unless they're a barbarian or immune. And you're definitely no barbarian."
So, she acknowledged my questions in relation to the supposed kidnappings? How nice.
"Where'd you learn how to do that?" I ask.
She smirks proudly. "If you work in the Cloud District long enough, you eventually learn to recognize what people want. The game of politics the other Thanes and the House Carl indirectly taught me had me learning quite a bit."
'Other Thanes?' I'm confused. As far as I remember from the game, the only Holds that had multiple Thanes were Falkreath, to the south of Whiterun Hold, and Haafingar, the capital of Skyrim in the west. For all the other cities, they mostly had one Thane; that one usually being me.
"Other Thanes?" I ask, giving voice to my thoughts.
"Yes - You don't know about the other Thanes?"
"No... Please explain more." I get the feeling I'm going to regret asking about this.
"There are three other Thanes of Whiterun: Titus, a High Minotaur representing the goddess Kyne, and a war hero from High Rock, the gryphon riding Breton, Sabell Toria. The third Thane is a distant relative of the dead High Kings' by the name of Aragor. Titus is one of the last minotaurs in existence. The day he dies will be a sad one. He's more or less of a representative of Kyne, just as much as the Priestess in the temple. He's done very much for Whiterun as well, having slaughtered many bandits, poachers, and Kyne-haters. Seeing him wield his massive battle-axe alongside his druidic magic is incredible."
"Sabell Toria is a noble from High Rock, like I said earlier, and is a beautiful, scarred woman with a depressing history. Her nobility has been unrecognized and recognized three times already, and she had to rescue parts of her family many times over from hostile nobles. The politics of High Rock between the nobles has lineages being disputed several times throughout their history, especially Toria's. Her family has been stripped of their house, their honor, and their wealth so many times by now, that when she left High Rock as a 'diplomat', she cursed the rest of the nobles on her way out. Literally, she hired a hagraven and several covens of witches to go to each of the nobles' houses that have wronged her family and cursed at least one of the members in the families. It's much more entertaining when she tells it because of her rage and her deviousness when she does it."
Lydia continues explaining more about the Thanes of Whiterun.
"Aragor... Urrgh... Aragor is a relatively slimy scumbag. It's been said that he's had a few dealings with the Thieve's Guild, and has met the Dark Brotherhood at least twice. He commonly gets drunk and vandalizes taverns, breaking tables, assaulting patrons. And when the guards get there, he tells them that he's a Thane, so they have no choice but to leave him alone. He shouldn't have the right to remain Thane. The only reason he's recognized as a Thane is due to his relation to the High King."
She sighs, frowning, before chugging half her ale in one go. She called over a waitress, and bought another. I take a sip of my red wine.
"He really pisses me off." Lydia states finally. "If you ever want to beat some sense into him, you can. You have the right, as a Thane with superior titles. Jarl Balgruuf would have, already, but he's been extremely busy, dealing with the war, constant minor problems from criminals, and the occasional giant. Oh... And now, dragons, too I suppose."
"What was that about superior titles?" I catch her saying something else I'm sure wasn't in the game.
"Yeah, uh, superior titles. When you earn recognition for something that any usual passerby can't do, you get a title. Like, if you've..." Lydia struggles to come up with an example.
"Fought a bear bare-handed, and won?" I supply.
"Yeah. Exactly. If you've done that, then you'd be entitled to the name 'Bear-killer'. But you, you've killed a dragon, so you've earned the title, 'Dragonslayer.' Stuff like that. Although, I think you could also be called, 'Drake the Cunning,' as it was your plan that led to the slaughter of that dragon." She continues. She then smirks proudly.
"Ha! My Thane, the first to kill a dragon. Truly, you are someone to be feared." She laughs.
"I'm sure killing a dragon as weak as Mirmulnir won't be impressive soon." I answer.
"How humble you are, too!" Lydia laughs some more. She chugs another ale in one gulp. She's already on her fourth. "Humility will do nothing but make you look weak once you're in Sovngarde, though. There, you need to be proud of your achievements, as you've had the strength to earn them."
"Ah," I answer, "but humility is the mark of a true knight. Also, Mirmulnir really was a weak dragon. He's one of, if not, the weakest."
"Never had I expected to see a dragon-slaying Nord warrior consider the views of the Bretons and their 'knights' before." She says, mockingly and genuinely confused. She places her head on her hands. "Those 'knights' you're so in awe of, my liege, are all puffed-up snobby nobleman's kids trying to be all heroic, when they were barely even able to stand up after the Oblivion Crisis."
The Oblivion Crisis? That's what the game before Skyrim, Oblivion, was about. But that only happened in Cyrodiil, didn't it? That was where the game took place. If the Oblivion Crisis was all across Tamriel, like Lydia implied, then the dragons' return was going to be much, *much* bigger than I'd thought, especially if it occurs all over the world. But if it really is going to be like that, then it's going to take much longer than I thought. That is, unless all dragons possess the power to resurrect other dragons, unlike I thought.
"Anyways, enough about all that talk about heroes and war legends. It's giving me a headache. What about you? What are you trying to become?" Lydia asks, looking me in the eyes, before brushing her hair away from her face.
I lean back, shutting my eyes, thinking for a second. "I don't know. No, I guess I do. Stronger. Faster. Smarter. Better with magic. Kinder. More empathetic. More generous. More a... Well, a hero. I suppose... I'm just trying to be something I'm not."
"Well, I'm sure your effort will show eventually. There's no reason why it shouldn't."
"Yes... I suppose it should. But sometimes... Sometimes I start thinking, you know? And it feels like every time I get to thinking, I'm looking into an abyss. A deep, dark hole in the pit of my mind. Sometimes, it feels less like an abyss, and more like a mirror. Whenever that happens, I don't like what's staring back. I can't tell if what's looking back is a man, or a murderer. So, I have to... shut off my mind. Switch to my subconscious, so that my conscious brain won't make me realize what I'm afraid of."
"And what is it that you're afraid of?" Lydia exhaled a soft breeze of warm air directly into my arms, crossed on the table.
'Myself.' But I don't say that. "I don't think I want to know."
Lydia is quiet for half a minute, before giggling softly. "...Well. What a somber mood you just made it. I think just about everyone's got that in us all. The question, I think, isn't 'is it there', but 'can you control it?'." Lydia laughs.
I think about that, before I continue, changing the subject, not really realizing what I'm saying. "Y'know sometimes... Whenever I practice magic, it feels like there's a thing... At the back of my mind, telling me I know what to do, how to do this spell, how to cast it. Like I've casted it a thousand times before. And then, when I cast the spell for the first time, it feels like I've unlocked a tiny hidden part of my memory. A part that if left untouched, I wouldn't have even noticed."
"Are you trying to make yourself sound edgy or something? You don't have to build a personality for yourself after hearing about the other Thanes' exploits. The two that matter are all a decade older than you, anyways." Lydia reprimands me, frowning. "Stop acting, and start being yourself."
I smile. "You're right... I apologize. What was I saying? Eh... It doesn't matter. What do you want to talk about?"
"Oh, it doesn't matter. Any old thing, really."
I nod, saying "Alright. How do you spend your days?"
• • •
So far, Lydia's been having an interesting time on this... 'Wait. Shite. This is a date. More information. I need more information.'
Lydia was known across Whiterun, or at least Dragonsreach, for her curious personality. Well. Curious is one way to put it. Whenever Lydia finds something she likes, she doesn't simply like it, she loves it. She didn't receive much love in her younger years, so whenever she starts to identify with or becomes attracted to something, her entire personality begins to revolve around that one thing.
First, it was books. After learning how to read, Lydia tried to read a common chapter book known as Kolb and the Dragon. It was a fairly short book for youngsters that is a choose-your-own-adventure book. Copies of it float around the city once in a while. Anyways, after Lydia read that book on her own, she tried to show off her new skill to others, but as said previously, she didn't receive a whole lot of love while she was young. The reactions to her new skill were abysmal, to say the least.
Lydia's parents didn't have time for her that often, due to their jobs. Her father was the Tax Collector, and so he was hated. Of course, the feelings he experienced at his workplace would eventually carry over to his home as well, and though he never got violent, he did get severely depressed and showed it in the way he acted. Lydia's mother, on the other hand, was a famous adventurer. She wasn't at home that often, and when she was, it wasn't long before the seductive call of adventure came back and she left again.
Being an only child, Lydia grew up alone, and as a young child, she never got much attention. Apathetic to her progress were her parents, and disheartening for a young child such as Lydia, at the time. Eventually, she put her heart into her books, since she couldn't really put into her parents, until her room was filled with them. She even learned to write simple poetry and songs under a traveling bard for a while, but eventually her heart broke and she grew depressed, too. She grew distant with too many people, so Lydia's father eventually asked her to read something else. That wasn't what he should've done, but it was what he did.
That day Lydia picked up a book about horses. That day was also the day she fell in love with horses, as well. Horses had a quiet peace that the hustle and bustle of the city and the palace could never have. They were stable (get it), and didn't move all that much when people were nearby. In Lydia's eyes, they were someone who would actually listen to her brag about what she did recently and who she met, and how her life was, and the way the clouds were shaped. So she learned under the Stablemaster how to ride and care for horses. To her, they were her friends, but much more than that. They were her family.
It was three years later, that Lydia had a terrible event happen in her life. It was a combination of terrible events, actuallly. The oldest horse in the stables, Queen, got sick. That was just the first in a series of unfortunate events. The second was that the city was raided by bandits, not three days later. Many of the city's horses were slaughtered needlessly, and several hundred people died. That was where she witnessed Titus wielding his battle-axe, a massive eight-foot long weapon, and his own custom style of druidic magic, a combination of ancient Breton druid sorcery and Kynespeak, the language of the trees, the birds, the and the beasts. With his powers, he summoned a stampede of beasts to rain hell upon the invaders.
Sabell Toria had an important part to play in that battle as well. Her griffin, Syracuse, her lances, and her lightning magic played a decisive hand in the battle that occurred when the bandit's druids broke the stampede. By forcing up an earthen lane for the stampede to circumnavigate the fields of Whiterun, they were able to stop what could've been the end of their bandit clan. Toria casted an extremely long range and massive area of effect lightning spell by the name of Thunderstorm. It effectively decimated the entire area of mages. Lydia could still remember the lightning arcing out from Toria's fingertips.
After they defended Whiterun, they were awarded the right to become Thanes. It was the day they became Thanes that Lydia decided to become a warrior, so that she could defend who, and what, she loved. So she learned under the tutelage of the Harbinger, the leader, of the Companions himself, Kodlak White-mane. He taught Lydia the ways of the blade and shield, and the art of the bow. It was the completion of all this training, (and the positions her parents were in, in the government) that led to her becoming eligible for becoming a Housecarl-In-Training.
After training as a Housecarl up until now, she's just been waiting for a Thane. It didn't really matter the gender of the Thane, so long as Lydia could finally have someone to love. As long as that person loved her back, she didn't really care who it was. It was purely her starvation for attention that brought her to this moment.
Which brings her here. Lydia doesn't know what to do. She's finally dating someone! Her cheeks almost became flush with embarrassment as she realized that this was, by technicality, a date.
So what she needs to do is keep the conversation going. She'll try to spark interest in the man in front of her, and get him to love her. The first step in doing that, was to provide a good answer.
"You've been quiet for a long time, now, *do* you do things in your spare time? Is it that you don't *have* free time?" Drake's face changes to a look of worry.
Oh, no! Lydia forgot to come up with an answer!
"No, uh... I have free time! I just use it to... Uh... Read, and ride my horse, and... and spar, and stuff!" Lydia shoves the first thing that appears in her head out. She covers her face quickly, before shooting it out to the alcohol and going down the bottle. 'Shite! Shite! Shite! I messed up saying that! No! I promise I'm normal! Please don't think I'm weird!"
"Oh? You like to read? What kind of books?" Drake's gaze lifts and turns thoughtful.
Lydia peeks out of her hands, drinking more alcohol. "Um... uhh... All kinds. History, romance, fairy tales, old legends. Thematically-appropriate books relative to the age we're in. Kolb and the Dragon, sometimes."
Lydia immediately covers her face again realizing what she said.
'No! Romance?! Oh, I know I once wishes for a romantic life in the future, but what in Oblivion's this? Kolb and the Dragon?! Not Kolb and the Dragon! Why'd I say that?! Wait... Why he's he even asking about what I like to read? Is he going to read a book I recommend him? Is he going to buy me a book? Oh, I don't even know what's going on anymore!' Lydia's head swam with a dozen thoughts at once. She quickly takes a sip of mead to calm down her nerves.
"You like Kolb and the Dragon? Last time I read that was years ago!" Drake laughs lightly, a sweet kind of laugh that Lydia only read about. She drinks more of the sweet mead she drinking earlier.
Both of them think of two completely different things when they said that, but it's quite alright, since neither of them are gonna talk about it, right? Wrong!
"Oh, at first, I hated that book because every decision I made was the wrong one. I eventually grew to like it, though." Drake continues. His ease was something Lydia was uncomfortable seeing. 'How can he be so calm? How can he just... Do it?'
"Hey, are you okay? You've been kind of spacing out every few seconds." Drake leans forward. The action was cute enough, but he definitely needs a bath. It's almost incredible how his hair's completely unaffected by not the weather and the amount of sweat he has on him. Despite all the sweat on him, he's got an incredible scent. An otherworldly odor exudes off of his face. Almost like...
• • •
Lydia.exe stopped working. Literally. Error 404: Page not found. Her program has ended.
I waved at her face and leaned forward further. There's not much space between us now. "Hello? Nirn to Lydia?"
Her eyes squeeze shut, then she blinks a few times. She shakes her head, eyes still shut, saying, "Uhhh... Yeah, sorry."
When she opens her eyes, she jumps. "Ah! Back up. No- sneaking up on me!" Her eyes widen. She waves her index finger at me while she does it.
Watching her do that, I sit back down in my seat, leaning forward, the way she was earlier. Her waving her finger at me, and her saying that the way she did, was cute as fuck. I'm gonna sneak up on her more. Actually, I might not. I don't want to seem like a creep or anything. Yeah, better not. I'd rather not sneak up, and end up having my throat sliced.
I watch as Lydia picks up another mug, tip it all the way back, and drain it. Light casted over her by the sunset shines on her head, making her hair and face glow. She really is beautiful. Pangs of pain echo through my heart, and I lean back in my chair.
I know what the pain is, but I don't want to say it. My heart hurts, but in a good way. It feels like... Like I'd found something that was missing for the first time since I lost it. I think I know what it is. I'd really rather not say it though, because I think that if I say it, it might become real. Not like last time. I'm not repeating my old life.
It would mean finding it at first sight is real, and that can't be true. Not after my history with women. I've had enough pain for both of my lives, and I had to learn the hard way that fake loves lost are better than new loves found. I'd rather let my hurt only have meaning in my first life, than be hurt in this one, too.
I didn't ask for this new life, but I'm sure as hell not going to waste it on getting wrecked emotionally. What I need to do is remain focused on my goals. Once I complete them... Then, I'll have time to let my heart be broken.
The sun is setting on Dragonsreach and beautiful red light can be seen streaming over the city of Whiterun. The stars shine brightly tonight, and the constellations glow with the celestial gleam of the universe.
A loud thud has me snapping my attention to the source of the sound. It's Lydia. Or rather, her head, slamming onto the table. Twelve bottles of mead sit in front of her, and apparently, she's also finished off my wine, as the green-tinted glass is now laying on it's side. I quickly go to the counter, and pay 40 gold for the drink, before returning. She's conked out on the table and is sleeping soundly. 'Wait, how's she supposed to get home?'
Shit, I think to myself, I can't... I can't...
I should probably take her to her home, but how can I touch her? I can't, knowing exactly what happened to me not that long ago. I *almost* was sexually assaulted. If I leave Lydia here, it's quite likely she will suffer the same fate, only hers would probably be to completion. Leaving her here would be taking the easy path out. Living the life I intend on living, I can't let it be about what's easy. It needs to be what's right. *I* need to do what's right. Even if it hurts. Especially if it hurts.
I move towards her and pick her up, in a princess carry, her arm around my neck. I get a flashback to what happened only two days ago, and I shiver.
'That- that's not going to happen again, this time, is it?' I can only hope otherwise. I carry her halfway out the door, and into the streets. I call over a guard, explain that she's not drugged or anything, and ask him to help me carry her to Dragonsreach.
"So, ah, you know where her house is, right?" The guard asks me.
Ah, crap. In the game, it was never really established where her home was, only that she lived in Dragonsreach, before meeting the Dragonborn. I don't know where specifically in Dragonsreach, though.
"Yeah, 'bout that." I answer, before lightly slapping Lydia awake.
"Hey, wake up. Stop, no, don't go back to sleep. I'm taking you home, okay? Where do you live?" Lydia nearly nods back off to sleep, but I saw her eyes flicker a little. Her cheeks are a bright red.
She starts to stutter out, "D-d-ddrragonsss-Reagchchgh." She retches, nearly puking on me, trying to say Dragonsreach.
I sigh. What she's just said helps me in no way.
"To Dragonsreach, then." I say, and we head up to the palace. The guard switches out with another after a certain distance, and we continue on. Then that guard eventually switches out, too, and the process repeats itself.
Eventually we make it up to Dragonsreach, where a maid walking around sees us and comes over. I send off the last guard, and the maid stops in front of me. She's in her 50's or 60's.
"Alright, now what's this? Ah, I know you, you're the new Thane."
I clear my throat, before switching Lydia to a piggyback ride, who proceeds to groggily lift her head and give the maid a smile, before dozing off to sleep again on my back. Her forehead is now leaning against the back of my head.
"She happens to be drunk, and had no way back to her home."
I manage to speak, before her head slides off mine and smacks against my shoulder with a thud. Lydia's arms, which were wrapped around my neck tighten, and she starts to choke me a little. The maid starts to guide me through the palace as quickly as possible.
Thank God she's not wearing her usual steel armor, otherwise this would've been so much worse. I didn't really notice nor care earlier, but the clothing she chose for today is arguably light for a warrior such as her. She's in light blue skirt, combined with a padded tunic, and a small cloak, around them. She's wearing a bandolier with two or three daggers.
Besides a basic enough description, I don't really care what else she's wearing. Her clothing wouldn't excuse my conduct after all. Not like it'd change anyways. I don't know what it is, but lately I've been acting more and more like a knight, as Lydia said. Curious.
Rather than that, I think it could just be that I'm encountering more and more situations that wouldn't even remotely be acceptable on Earth. It's strange, but the more women I meet, the more it's seems like they're all focused on making relationships with me. I barely even know them. Even today, couldn't what happened today be considered a date?
I don't know if I like this or not. It feels like if someone from Earth found out about these relationships, I might be canceled. By this world's standards though, these relationships aren't just normal and accepted, but they're even encouraged. Because after all, "life in Skyrim is short". Having died already, I could personally say, yeah, life here is short. But then again, I had several disadvantages, didn't I? The wolves had a numerical advantage, the element of surprise, and my body was pathetic and weak compared to now.
In any case, any clever warrior is usually more than enough to survive here. All you'd have to do then, is increase public education. Why, then, do people call life here short? Maybe it's not difficult on a personal level, but more of a social? There are plenty of wars, deceit and betrayals are commonplace here, and the crime rate is probably really high compared to any other places. Although, I suppose it could be environmental, what with this place not having any methods of heating other than base insulation and magical means. The population density in this place would also affect that. Besides the fact that there are monsters here, but that'd be more on a village, and town-level threats. There are probably thousands of people in this city alone. There's no way there's not a sufficient number of soldiers to deal with that small of a threat.
"*Ahem.*"
Someone clears their throat, attracting my attention. It's the maid. I've really got to stop letting my thoughts drag on for too long. I've unknowingly bumped into her, and didn't even notice.
Somehow we've gotten to a different section of the palace, disconnected from the main building, where we stop in front of a longhouse. The two, tall, oaken doors stand in front of a small room leading to a corridor that has five doors along the wall inside.
The maid tells me to drop her off in the third room to the left, where she subsequently disappears. I proceed to go into Lydia's room.
Her room is a 15x10-foot rectangular room, a bit small, but not suffocatingly. Her bed is against the far left corner, stretching towards the door. On the opposite wall directly across from it was a long oaken dresser. Next to me, on my left, was a small circular table with a chair in front of it. On my right was a writing desk that had several sheets of parchment on it, a small bottle of ink, and a feather that looked like it's been whittled down for at least a couple years' worth of writing.
I squat in front of the bed, where Lydia is practically sitting on it, before dropping her that last half-inch onto her bed. She falls backwards as soon as she hits the fur blanket and straw-filled mattress. It was more or less a long, wide bag of straw. Still probably better than my bed at the inn.
When I dropped her, the sudden lightness I feel throws me off-balance, and nearly makes me fall forward. I catch myself before I hit the ground, and stand back up. My back is sore. I stretch it out a bit, and hear loud cracks. I turn to Lydia, who's conked out on the bed.
I see Lydia's legs hanging over the edge of the bed, so I scoop them up and put them into the bed, as one would normally sleep in their bed. As I did this, she groggily sits up a little, and rotates her body so that she's actually laying in her bed, and not just on it.
"Fthannk you. Ah'm shorry for thish, my fthane." She was able to croak out, before laying back down, rolling over, and starts sleeping soundly. How loyal. Even drunk she makes sure to try to honor me. I should probably tell her that if she doesn't want to, she doesn't have say "My Thane" everytime she tried to talk to me.
Her hair falls in front of her eyes, and I stand up. My knees hurt, too, now. I reach over her, and brush her hair out of her face. She moans softly, as my hands touch her face a little bit on accident.
My cheeks redden in embarrassment and I immediately leave, shutting the door behind me as I go. It shuts much easier than I expected, and practically slams shut. I jump, and look around. It's night now, so people are probably sleeping.
I get out of there as quickly as possible, and try to make my way back to the inn. When I eventually get there, I immediately head to my bed, and go to sleep. Unfortunately, however, I'm unable to.
The events from earlier echo in my mind, and dozens of thoughts flow through me. My face flickers through various emotions as I think about them.
She was kinda cute, but drunk... Eh.. no thanks... [Disgust.] There's not really a point to trying to *do things* with someone if they're not even coherent to really be able to tell what's going on. Besides, that's fucked up. There's a reason free will exists for everyone.
That was fun. [Happiness.] It was almost like a date, but what happened near the end there? [Confusion.] Why did she start drinking so heavily, when we're going on a long trip tomorrow? Weird.
[Happiness again.] I dunno. I don't think I really care either. I wonder why she's so enthusiastic about serving me though? It was understandable when it was a game and she was just a simple NPC, but now... She's also super loyal, which I don't really think I mind, but having her refer to me in such a respectful tone all the time is ~ehwfjdkdemjskhw~ I shiver. It just feels weird.
My thoughts continues like that for at least another hour. Eventually, I realized how exhausted I am, and eventually decided to stop thinking and actually go to sleep.
-----------------
Funds: 1,026 septims
Weapons:
💠 - Orcish Sword of Paralysis
💠 - Blade of Whiterun (Ebony longsword, 3rd Era, 10 points Frost damage/5 to Stamina/ slow)
💠 - Quicksilver Throwing Knives {x5}
💠 - Nordic Daggers {x2}
- Elven Bow, Unstrung {x12 Elven Arrows}
- Orcish Sword
Apparel:
💠 - Refurbished Steel Helm (15% more armor)
💠 - Steel Armor (HP Regen. Injury Heal Rate 25%↑, Light Wound Heal 50%↑)
💠 - Spiked Steel Gauntlets (+20 extra H2H damage)
💠 - Refitted Steel Boots (15% more armor)
💠 - Custom Quicksilver buckler (18% more armor)
- Winter Cloak (20% Cold Resistance)
- Snow Bear Greatcloak (50% Cold Resistance)
- Shield of the Dragonslayer (Kite, 40% Fire Resistance)
Potions:
- Mysterious Potion {x4}
Food:
- Basket of Fruits and Vegetables; {onions x4, apples x8, leeks x5, potatoes x8, head of cabbage x2, carrots x6, loaves of bread x2}
Books:
- Stack of Stormcloak notes and letters to family {x15}
- Letter to Thrynn & Torturer's Ring
- Spell Tome: Sparks
- Spell Tome: Oakflesh
Scrolls:
- Scroll of Blizzard
Supplies:
- Backpack
- Bedroll / Mountain Bedroll
- Cooking pan
- Waterskin
- Metal Bowl
- Torches {x3}
- Tent
- Pitons
- Climbing harness
- Rope (200 ft.)
- Hiking Staves {x2}
- Ice Picks {x2}
Miscellaneous:
- Lockpicks {x1}
- Vial for Mysterious Potion
- Golden Claw
- Potion bottle remains