Sian's Story part 55 - Heart to Heart
Entry posted by jfraser in Sian's Story
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My Imperial-provided horse was a buttery yellow mare with a white mane (she looked a LOT like a palomino, which is a little odd considering those are crossbreeds of Spanish and American horses) named Helen. I loved her from the moment I saw her even though she was the most fastidious person (if you will) I have ever met. Horses are smart but their conversations tend to focus on their opinions of various types of grass or grain. They spent most of their nights discussing the single patch of grass they happened to be tethered to that night, and whether the snow they sometimes had to scrape away to get to said grass was complimentary to the flavor and/or texture. During the day, they all wanted to stop and sample nearly every plant they saw, and I got to hear their grievances every time we continued on instead.
Like most things labeled as such, free horses are not free – they are very expensive to keep alive, especially if you are the sort of person who likes (or at least feels the need) to go into caves, ruins, temples, and crypts in search of magic walls or creepy crowns. You can’t take horses into those places but the only alternative is to leave them tethered nearby and hope they don’t get stolen or eaten. Or both. So someone needs to stay with them.
My original plan was to have Lahzah do that, but he was adamant that he could not – he needed to stay with me at all times. Kellan, likewise, refused to even discuss staying behind. I didn’t even propose the question to Lane.
As a last-ditch effort, I asked Rikke if I could take a soldier (preferably female so she could share the cock stroking duties) with us to watch the horses, but I was refused on the grounds that a) I was a Keṣ Tshaâki, so I shouldn’t need more help and b) why was I still there? I should have been halfway to Korvanjund by now!
So it was that we left mid-morning on the eleventh of Hearthfire (September-ish) with a gruff Redguard mercenary name Nigel who spoke exactly as much as I hoped (which was not at all) but with whom the horses took an instant liking. It is the first and only time I have been jealous of a man because all the horses, including Helen, clearly preferred him over me and spent their non-grass-obsessed time talking about how nice he smelled and how gentle he was. When I tried to help brush them, I was informed by Helen that I was not doing it correctly, “so please do not ruin my hair any further. Dear Nigel knows how to do it.”
Who we did NOT leave with was any of the plentiful sex workers who plied their trade throughout the city, which meant my evenings were spent doing Lazhah’s laundry (I did the rest of ours at the same time because, might as well), fixing the tears in his clothes (I am terrible at sewing so the seams were usually split the next day, so I had to fix them again. I did “accidentally” leave a needle in a shirt or two), and, of course, visiting his tent every night to give him his handy.
You’ve heard about Hands Across America; now make way for Handjobs Across Skyrim!
Fortunately, Kellan and Lane silently took over the cooking (and Nigel even took a few turns, which helped ease my jealousy-ridden secret hostility toward him), so I didn’t have to make Lazhah’s meals, at least.
Kellan handled this arrangement about as well as might be expected – nothing he said or did betrayed resentment or jealousy. But I had grown to know him pretty well by that point and I could sense the rage churning beneath the surface. I eased it as well as I could, and although doing so involved many of the same skills I had just used with Lazhah, they were MUCH more fun with Kellan.
Through it all, the purchase I had made in Solitude seemed to grow heavier by the day, much like Frodo with the One Ring, so on the third night, I gathered my fluttering heart and went to Lane’s tent and tapped on the post that held up the front of it.
Her voice responded immediately. “Yes?”
“Can I…talk to you?”
“Of course! Come in! Do you want to worship Dibella?”
I flushed as I entered the tent and shook my head. “No! Um, no. But thank you. I just…wanted some advice.”
“Certainly! Have a seat. I just brewed some tea.”
Moments later, I was seated on a soft cushion nursing tea from a fine porcelain cup while wondering how Lane had managed to pack all this stuff.
“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?”
I tried to answer, but no words came to me. So instead, I reached into my pouch and pulled out the amulet of Mara and showed it to her.
“Oh!” She gave me a brilliant smile. “So you are ready for marriage?”
“I…don’t know.” I closed my fist back around the amulet as if trying to hide it. “I…think I love Kellan. And he…kind of accidentally said he loved me. Although he was drunk. I just…” I stopped, flushing. “Jesus, I sound like a lovesick middle schooler.”
“I have only known you two for a few weeks, so I do not know your history together. Have you known each long?”
“I mean…no. And that’s the thing – I’ve only known him for…” for what? How long had I been in this version of Skyrim? Time was already beginning to blur. “…a month? No, we were in Shor’s Stone for two weeks alone. And I’ve only had my period once. So a little longer, but not by much. A month and a half. Ish.”
“I see. You two seem to have a strong bond and it is not uncommon for matches to be made in a time as short as that.”
“Really? It is where I come from. I mean, it happens, but those kinds of marriages tend not to last. Most people wait several months or even years before taking that step.”
“Indeed? Where are you from?”
I paused. “I can tell you, but I don’t know if you’ll believe me.”
“You forget, I am blessed by Dibella. I can tell when someone is lying. Please, ease your mind.”
“All right.” I took a deep breath. “I am from a different world called Earth. I was pulled to Skyrim by an idiotic mage named Pare because he had a typo in his fucking spell book.”
Lane’s expression was a satisfying mix of surprise and shock, and if you think those two are synonymous, you haven’t seen an expression like hers. “That is…I can see why you would think your story would not be believed. Please tell me about this world.”
“Um…it is more advanced than here, at least in terms of technology. For instance, we stopped using swords and bows for anything but recreation a century or more ago – we have much more powerful ways to kill each other now. We have machines built of metal that can fly through the air or traverse the widest oceans.”
“The magic there must be powerful!”
“No, there is no magic there. At all. Just…” I shrugged. “Human ingenuity.”
She laughed. “I imagine the other peoples of your world would not care for that term. The elves, especially, would…”
“That’s another difference – there aren’t other people. Not like the elves and orcs and…cat and lizard people here. It is just humans and a large variety of animals.”
“It sounds like a strange land indeed!”
“Whereas this place sounds like a fantasy novel come to life, there. But not one that would be widely published.”
“No?”
“No. Too much rape – the publishers would take one glance and throw it into the fireplace.”
“Ah. So you have had some bad experiences in this world.”
“If by ‘bad experiences’ you mean literal years of torture, rape, and slavery, you would still be making a gross understatement.”
“I…see. Your pardon, but you do not look old or…well, haggard enough to have years of such abuse.”
“Yes, that’s because it all happened in the previous version of Skyrim I was in, where everything was destroyed by dragons because I was stuck being a slave in a mine for most of it. Then that asshole Sanguine put me back at the beginning to do the entire thing all over again. Fortunately, things are going much better this time. So far.”
Lane stared at me, gratifyingly speechless, for a long moment, then shook her head. “Dibella assures me you speak the truth, unbelievable as it sounds. You are living a remarkable life!”
“Trade ya.”
She laughed. “No, I am content with my more ordinary lot.” A sigh. “As for the reason you came to me, I do not have any good answers for you. All I can say is this:
“The world is full of violence and unpredictability. As you are well aware, of course. Especially with the war and now even more especially with the dragons, you just never know when your entire life may be upended, when those you care for may be torn away by some force beyond your control. So when you find something or someone that gives you happiness or hope, cling to that something or someone as hard as you can and cherish it for as long as it lasts. Because it might be gone tomorrow.”
Her voice had dropped in volume steadily as she said this until she was nearly whispering at the end. A tear trailed down her cheek, though her expression remained calm; but as I opened my mouth to voice my concern about her own story that clearly had its own traumas, shouts sprang up from outside the tent and, a moment later, the unmistakable sound of a dragon rumbled over.
Lane sprang to her feet, her robe already sliding from her body as she rushed toward the entrance to the tent. I shoved the amulet back into the pouch as I followed, all thoughts of love and loss wiped away in the immediate need of the moment.
Don’t feed the bastards. Feed yourself instead.
Edited by jfraser
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