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Watching You	By : Sanity-Excluded Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 4936 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Skyrim or any of the characters mentioned (Except OC) and no money is made from this work.

Chapter List
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There is a woman.
She does not speak.
She is tall, though not quite as tall as an Altmer male. Her skin is pale, but if caught in just the right light, you can catch a hint of yellow undertones. Her eyes are a rich amber and her ears are pointed. But despite what her appearance suggests, she will tell you she is a Nord. Her wheat coloured hair is constantly braided, and you can occasionally see it from under the hood of her cloak. She has one scar on her face. It is a thick scar over her lips, just off centre, running from just under her right nosril down to her chin.
The walk from Dawnstar to Whiterun always put her in a good mood, the path rife with beasts and spriggans waiting for her blade.
Keeping their skins for a new winter cloak, she ambled along at a leisurely pace, watching the snowy fields gave way to grass, hearing a horse whinny, she looked up just in time to stop herself from walking into the great beast.

Pulling the hood of her ragged travelling cloak up, she stepped around the chestnut coloured horse and noticed the rear wheel of the cart was broken and the carts cargo was precariously balanced. The driver of the cart was a tiny red-headed Imperial.

"Agh! Bother and befuddle! Stuck here! Stuck! My mother, my poor mother. Unmoving. At rest, but too still!"

The little man was babbling at the broken wheel like it would fix itself if he prattled enough.
Why is there a jester out in the middle of Skyrim farmland? She wondered, and why is he pulling his mothers coffin? Eyeing the crate, she wondered just how large of a woman she was, the crate looked more than a little generous.

He looked at her then and she pulled my hood down lower.

"Poor Cicero is stuck. Can't you see? I was transporting my dear, sweet mother. Well, not her. Her corpse! She's quite dead. I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt. But... Aggh! Wagon wheel! Damnedest wagon wheel! It broke! Don't you see?"

She shrugged her shoulders not much I can do. She pointed towards Loreius Farm. Get help from there, Jester.
"Oh yes! Yes, the kindly stranger can certainly help! Talk to Loreius. He has tools! He an help me! But he won't! He refuses! Convince Loreius to fix my wheel! Do that an Cicero will reward you! With coin! Gleamy, shiny coin! "
She sighed. Convincing people required talking. This is going to be a pain, but better to get the jester off the road before he hurts himself. She walked towards the farm and climbed up the three small steps to where Loreius was standing and watching Cicero.

He nodded to her "Companion."
She pointed down toward the coffin and motioned toward him. He stared at her with a stormy face and she rolled her eyes, shaking her coin purse.

"You think this is about money? Have you met the man? He's completely out of his head. A jester? Here, in Skyrim? Ain't been a jester in these parts for a hundred years. And he's transporting a giant box. Says it's a coffin, and he's going to bury his mother. Mother my eye. He could have anything in there. War contraband. Weapons. Skooma. Ain't no way I'm getting involved in that."
She pointed at the amulet of Mara around his neck. I thought Mara was the goddess of love and peace? Surely that extends to neighbours?
"You're right. You're right. Feller might be nutters, might not. But fact is, he needs help. I turn him away, what kind of man am I, hmm? Look, um... Thanks. If you talk to Cicero, be sure to tell him I'll be down to help soon."

She walked back down to Cicero and nodded once, pointed to him and then the ground. He immediately began to dance and said his thanks far too many times to count. "Oh stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My mother thanks you! Here, here. For your troubles! Shiny, clinky gold! A few coins for a good deed! And thank you! Thank you again!"

The purse that he pressed into her hand was heavy, full of coin.

There must be more than five hundred septims in here. She left just as he started to dance again, speaking to his mother. That jester is more than a nutter she thought, a huge grin plastered on her face as she stepped through the gates of Whiterun.

Dialogue taken from Elder Scrolls: Skyrim
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Watching You