Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

The Line Begins to Blur	By : VirusVescichetta Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 61884 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Look at the URL. Now back to the disclaimer. Now the URL. Back to the disclaimer. Sadly, I don't own Skyrim or make money off it, but you can now read a story that's written as though I did. And yes, I just wasted a mod's valuable time.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
I stared at the back of my housecarl's head, a scowl pulling my eyebrows together. She was ostensibly leading me to Riften, but considering the road signs and quiet roads there was no real reason for her to be so far ahead. She hadn't even spoken a word beyond the short, curt replies to any attempt I made at sparking up conversation.
We had left Mistwatch the previous day in an awkward and rather embarrassed silence. Since then the tension had grown so thick between us that it was hard to even get words through it, much less actually talk at length to each other. I looked up at the sky, the brightness of the sun narrowing my eyes slightly more. I could count the number of clouds before us on one hand.
I lowered my gaze back to Lydia and deepened my glower. "Why are you so pissed off?" I finally asked with a huff.
"I am perfectly content, my Thane," she replied with a voice empty of conviction.
I let out a long sigh and tried to work out the knots in my neck's muscles with my hand. "Then why have your hands been clenched into fists since we left camp this morning?"
"Because," she started, though she cut herself off quite abruptly. I watched her hands very purposely unclench. "I am perfectly content, my Thane."
I almost toppled from the weight of my head when it dropped in defeat. "By the Divines, you're such a...woman." She mumbled something under her breath that I couldn't make out and I didn't pursue the matter.
I picked idly at a stain in the rough cotton shirt I had grabbed from Mistwatch. It didn't quite fit right and my horns had torn a small gouge in the neckline but it was better than nothing and at least my travelling cloak kept me warm. It was surprisingly chilly without my fur and wool lined armour. I prayed that when we got to Riften I'd be able to find somewhere to purchase a new tunic.
My prayers felt a little closer to being answered when we crested yet another hill to see a town pop up some distance away at the foot of a mountain. The terrain below us was bumpy and dotted in trees, but it looked fairly easy to cross. I could see a massive lake stretching out from the town's eastern end and disappear into the mountains we had been travelling through. I thought of the river that ran through Ivarstead and wondered if it led to the lake.
It took the better part of an hour to cross the rolling hills and reach the town. A pair of guards stood at the gate, though they didn't look particularly alert or concerned as we walked by. My hand unconsciously drifted down to the dagger at my hip. If the guards were so lax I could only assume that the place was as crime-ridden as Lydia had said.
Entering the city proper proved to indicate no better. The place was crowded, noisy, and far too many piles of fish guts had been just left on the along the water below. I could only assume the town had dredged out a river for the sake of trade, but it didn't look like much was imported through the waterways. Lydia and I began walking towards the thickest throng of people; the various stands indicated a market.
It didn't take long for us to find an armourer or even a serviceable tunic. What truly bogged us down was the man charging me outlandish prices for the equipment. "There's no way I'm paying two hundred septims for hardened leather. That's ridiculous."
"I'm not forcing you to do business here, lizard," he sneered back at me. "If the prices so offend you, you're more than welcome to look elsewhere."
I was about to take him up on his offer with a caustic remark when an older man stormed up to the stand. "Asbjorn! What do you think you're doing?" the man shouted. I quickly forgot my anger. Or maybe it was just absorbed by the new arrival's fury. The apparent racist selling the wares sputtered out some mess of gibberish with few discernible words beyond "Argonian" and "sorry".
I regarded the older man with a cocked eyebrow. "Is this your business?" I asked, referring to the small smithy set up in an isolated corner of the market.
"Aye, it is," he growled. "I thought to leave my son in charge of it but it seems he wasn't as ready for the task as I hoped he would be." The disappointment in the man's voice very handily pushed Asbjorn's shoulders into a slump.
"I'm sorry, father," he finally spoke clearly.
"Get out of here. We'll talk later," the father waved his son away. "I'm terribly sorry about that. He's still young and impetuous. He hasn't figured out that not everything some pompous nationalist tells him is true."
"If you're willing to do some reasonable business with me, then no harm done," I shrugged the apology off. As much as it bothered me sometimes, I had long since given up on staying angry or holding grudges over hatred of my race.
"Good. You look like you could use some new armour," he said as he looked me over. Despite the fact that they hadn't suffered as much damage as my upper half, my trousers and boots had taken a few nasty hits and scrapes since I had acquired them.
"That probably couldn't hurt. I wouldn't mind a new sword, either," I unconsciously dropped my hand to touch my empty scabbard. "And if I could get the sword I do have sharpened, that would probably be just dandy."
It only took a few minutes to get a studded leather tunic fitted for me and have the edges of our blades returned to their former glory. I flexed my hands in the new gauntlets to help loosen the leather a little, or at least start the process. I couldn't help but notice that my bandages stretched out of my armour, both from my shoulder and past the edge of my gauntlet.
After paying the blacksmith, whose named I had learned was Balimund, I turned to my housecarl and frowned at her still frosty disposition. "Well, now that all that business is taken care of, shall we take a look around? I'm sure there's something in this place that will catch our fancy," I suggested in a rather futile attempt to lighten the mood slightly.
I don't know how long we spent wandering around the market, poking our heads into various stalls and displays. Lydia was silent save for the odd decline when I asked if she wanted to grab anything. I found a spell book that caught my attention which detailed how to fire a shot of flame like a burning arrow. As much as I tended to forget about using it I really was forever intent on increasing my magical prowess.
Our leisurely excursion was brought to an abrupt end, however, when a young man not paying the slightest bit of attention stumbled into Lydia. "Watch where you're going, wench," the man growled and moved to push past her.
I stepped in the way and let him collide with my unforgiving chest. "Hey now, that's no way to talk to a lady," I said with a warning tone. I didn't really know why I was standing up for Lydia to an ordinary civilian. I had, after all, seen her fight many people in rather ferocious battles. It wasn't as though she were incapable of defending herself. I supposed it was simply male pride being male pride.
People began to notice us, though that was mostly thanks to the man's loud mouth. "What business is it of yours, reptile?" he hissed. I was tempted to hiss back and show him how it was done, but somehow I didn't think that would help much.
"She's a friend of mine. That makes it my business when some asshole decides to run his mouth," I answered with a glare. "Now apologize before I make you."
A gentle but firm hand on my arm led my eyes back to my housecarl. She looked like she was about to tell me to stop or some other foolish thing. I simply raised my hand to silence her and shook my head. As much as it may have been a stupid or unnecessary thing to do, I was committed to my decision to stand up for her.
Apparently the man noticed her silent insistence that I back down. "You should listen to her, beast. You wouldn't want to start something you can't finish," he scoffed.
"I can't help but feel you should be taking your own words more seriously, Sibbi," a smooth feminine voice interjected. At the sound of the voice I saw some creepy combination of fear and elation cross the man's face.
"Mother!" Sibbi turned to the new arrival. She was an older woman; I had to guess just under fifty, considering her hair was still a dark black. Shallow lines of age drew across her face, though there was no denying she was still an attractive woman. Still, there was a harsh, cold edge to her voice that made me wary of her. I could tell by her voice that she commanded respect and fear around this place. "This thing threatened to attack me."
"Then why are you snivelling up to me?" the woman asked in a voice dripping in false cheeriness. "Show yourself a man and stand up to him, child."
Sibbi looked shocked for a moment that his mother wasn't going to bail him out of a mess. I wondered briefly just who she was in this place. By the looks of fear and the hush of the people around us, I had to guess that it was a similar position to a Jarl, but far less official and therefore more dangerous.
I folded my arms over my chest and decided to goad the man along. I was curious to see what would happen if I actually hurt this man. "Sounds like someone's getting scolded by mother dearest. How embarrassing," I smirked at Sibbi. "Are you going to cry when she takes away your toys for starting fights?"
The fist that caught across my jaw made me stumble back a pace, but it wasn't hard enough to properly daze me or even particularly hurt. Considering I had taken blows from bears, sabre cats and even dragons, a man's hand wasn't likely to sting much. I mentally kicked myself for standing flat-footed. Sibbi swung again but it was a simple matter to duck under the blow and crush my fist into his stomach. I heard the air rush from his lungs and didn't give him time to recover before I gave him a swift punch across the jaw. I caught his shirt to hold him standing just long enough to crack my knuckles against his cheek and send him well and truly flying into the dirt.
He spat out some dust and blood and looked pleadingly at his mother. "Mother...do something..." he whined pathetically.
All he earned was a cold glare. "Get out of my sight, Sibbi. We will talk about this later," she spat. I didn't think even my Argonian blood would be able to resist the venom in her voice.
The beaten man scrambled away and left me with the woman. "My apologies for all that. I didn't expect it to get so out of hand," I said to her with a brief nod of my head. With the fighting over, I could finally take in what she really looked like. Her clothing was simple, but the furs it was made from meant that all of it probably cost a good deal more than my armour. She had a couple rings on and a fine gold pendant hanging from her neck to emphasize her wealth. Clearly she kept her appearance simple strictly to get the point across that it was no bother for her to own expensive clothing.
"You aren't the one who should be apologizing. It was about time he learned that he can't expect to be saved from every bit of trouble he gets himself into," the woman said. She extended her hand. "My name is Maven Black-Briar."
I stared at the hand for a moment, unsure of what to do in this situation. I didn't know exactly what social position she held relative to me. I settled for treating it like business. "Kailev-Tel," I answered simply and took her hand in a firm but gentle shake. My response seemed to amuse her.
"Well, Kailev-Tel, I hope that if we meet again it's under more pleasant circumstances," she smiled at me again and turned to leave.
"As do I. Have a nice day," I smiled back disarmingly as she turned. She gave a short, polite nod over her shoulder and walked through the parting bodies of the people around us. No one hesitated to move aside to let her through. Just how dangerous was this person?
"Kailev-Tel!" a new female voice sounded suddenly and for a brief instant I thought it was Lydia again. I turned to face her before the voice called again and my blood turned to ice when I finally recognized it.
My head snapped to the side and my wide, terrified eyes caught sight of the female Argonian marching purposefully towards us. "Oh, shit," I cursed quietly. The golden scales, the petite horns, the red lines streaking around her face to virtually mirror mine...There was no denying it. It was her. "Keesara? What in Oblivion are you doing here?" I asked in shock.
"I should be asking you the same thing, brother," she hissed angrily at me once she stood face-to-face with me. Or face to chest, at least. Despite her much smaller stature I couldn't help but be a little afraid of my younger sister when she was angry at me.
"Half-brother," I interjected automatically. I instantly groaned at myself for restarting our old habit so quickly. "And I'm beating up some obnoxious human, obviously."
"Hold on," Lydia put an arm in between us to grab our attention. "I'm sure that this is important, but this is your sister? Isn't your family in Black Marsh?"
"Half-sister," the new arrival put in.
"That's what I thought," I continued on, despite the interruption. "Who else is here, Kees?"
"It's only me, and don't call me that," she pouted and crossed her arms. "And here I was thinking that after looking for you for almost a year you'd be so glad to see me you'd hug me."
I rolled my eyes at her tantrum. Some things never changed, I supposed. "I probably would have if you hadn't charged up to me looking like you were ready to hit me," I shrugged. "Why were you looking for me? I've been gone for years now. I can't imagine anyone's really that worried anymore."
"You have a duty to fulfil!" she snapped. "You can't just walk away from being-"
"Enough," I quickly barked in hist, our native language. Both Lydia and Keesara looked at me with wide eyes. I figured that my sister had probably assumed I had forgotten how to speak it after so long away from home.
"You mean this woman doesn't know who you are?" she asked in the same language.
At least she had the good sense to be discreet. "If I had it my way, no one would," I continued to speak in a language I knew Lydia couldn't understand. I felt kind of bad about it, but it couldn't be helped. "Then again, if I had it my way there wouldn't be anything to know."
Keesara regarded Lydia with a slight smirk that I knew meant I was in trouble. I was about to pay for not just hugging my haughty sister. Or for some perceived slight from years ago, knowing her. "He's a prince, since he clearly has no intention of telling you himself," she said nonchalantly before I could stop her. "Son of the King of Black Marsh, to be precise."
Lydia stared at me blankly, though her wide eyes at least gave her empty expression some bit of surprise to liven it up. "You're a prince," she restated.
"By the strictest definition, yeah," I nodded my head and prayed that I was going to wake up soon back in camp. There was no way my sister was actually here ruining all I had done to try and cover up my past in Black Marsh. "Look, if you're going to continue to be a nuisance, can we at least go somewhere that isn't so open and...outside?" I asked the troubling girl.
Keesara led us to an inn called the Bee and Barb where she had apparently been staying for a while. She sat down on her room's bed while Lydia took to a chair at a small table in the corner. I stood against a wall with my arms folded and waited for the looming ordeal to be over.
In the silence I took a good look at my sister. She had actually grown slightly since the last time I had seen her. Despite how much it disturbed me, I couldn't help but notice that her breasts appeared bigger, though there was a good chance that was mainly an illusion of her shirt. I sighed at her vanity. She couldn't even dress for travelling properly.
Lydia cleared her throat after a rather pregnant pause. "So you're a prince," she restated once again.
"You seem to have a hard time believing that," I chuckled. "Maybe that means I've been doing a good job of not acting like one."
"Are you going to be the ruler of Black Marsh some day?" I again noted the lack of judgement in her voice. She simply wanted to know.
"No. That's my brother, Tal-Jarad. He's the one I told you about before; the one who bet me I couldn't beat a thrinax in a fight." She seemed satisfied with that answer, given new information to think about. "How did you find me?" I turned to my sister.
She looked somewhat surprised by the sudden question. "I spent the last year or so looking around Cyrodiil for you. I finally found someone who said they had seen you about a month ago and told me you were headed for the border," she explained. "This was the first town I came to after crossing into Skyrim. I suppose I just got lucky that you showed up here so soon."
"Yeah, that certainly was fortunate," I deadpanned. "I guess that'll teach me to tell people my real name."
"There aren't too many Kailev-Tels in the world," Keesara said with an odd kind of smile. I didn't like it when she gave me that smile. It should have been reserved for people she had a crush on.
"One of a kind," I replied with a short shrug. I turned to the almost forgotten human sitting quietly at the edge of the room. "Lydia...sorry about not being too forthcoming, but I left Black Marsh for a reason. That, and I didn't want you to think any differently of me just because of who my old man is."
Her eyebrow quirked up slightly, as did a corner of her lips. It had been a while since I had seen that joking smirk. "I wouldn't let it shine my opinion of you in the least, my Thane," she quipped at me quite casually.
"Good. I'd hate for you to suddenly think I'm something important," I gave her a satisfied nod.
"What's a Thane?" Keesara asked after what seemed to be a moment's thought.
"It's this foolish title they give to people who kill dragons or something," I answered with yet another shrug. "Comes with some woman who follows me around and tells me my ideas are stupid."
"Most of them are..." Lydia mumbled quietly.
"A dragon?" my sister exclaimed, apparently deaf to my housecarl's snide remarks.
"Yeah, you know...big, scaly, flies around, breaths fire..." I said offhandedly.
"How did you kill a dragon?"
"With a sword, like most things I kill," I shrugged again. "Keesara, you should know by now that I'm amazing. If I can kill a thrinax with a dagger the dragon shouldn't be too much of a stretch."
"The Histskin is the only reason you're still alive after that stupid bet with Tal-Jarad," Keesara frowned deeply at me.
I looked to Lydia and cut her just short of her obvious question. Her curiosity at least made her somewhat predictable. "Not all Argonians heal quite as quickly as I do. We all heal faster than humans, but some of us...Can't quite die from anything short of a truly lethal blow," I explained. "It's why I was chosen to be Black Marsh's general when I was born. Guess that means it's kind of why I left."
"Because you heal faster?"
"Because short of getting a limb hacked off, there isn't much I won't recover from. I'm pretty sure even my organs grow back," I clarified.
"So that's why you're so reckless," she muttered just quietly enough for me to still hear.
I rubbed at the back of my neck in a nervous gesture. "Something like that, yeah. If something doesn't outright kill me, I know I can probably bounce back in a week, at most."
"Only a few Argonians have ever been born blessed with the Histskin. Each one has been known as a remarkable warrior and leader," Keesara sounded downright proud of our lore and history. And me, but I tried my best to ignore that. "It was one such Argonian that led us to invade and occupy Morrowind at the beginning of the Fourth Era."
"At least one of us paid attention to the tutors," I chuckled. There was no way I could have recited all that history. "I bet you could even explain how the An-Xileel was founded."
"I probably could," she now sounded properly proud. She liked holding her higher academic record from when we were children above me. She seemed to forget that I was trained in tactics and combat. I knew little about civil history, but I doubted she held a candle to what I knew of military history.
Nonetheless, I couldn't help but smile at my sister's happiness. It was infectious. "Why do you know anything about the invasion of Morrowind? That doesn't sound like your kind of history," I asked.
"I only know about the general who led it, Kailev-Jek," she said with a quick shrug.
"It seems odd that his name is so similar to yours, my Thane," Lydia interjected.
I turned a curious eye to her. "It's a common word in Argonian names."
"It's a common word in Argonian royal names," Keesara corrected me.
"Thankfully no one outside of Black Marsh seems to know that fact," I chuckled quietly. "I also like that no one gives me strange looks when I introduce myself as Kai. I swear there isn't a single Argonian in Cyrodiil that can speak proper hist."
"Hist? Isn't that the name of the trees you were talking about?" Lydia looked at me curiously.
Keesara snorted in her haughty way and I sighed at what I knew was coming. "Of course a human couldn't tell the difference."
"Don't be nasty, sister," I chided her as I walked over to the bed she was sitting on. If I was going to be here a while yet, I decided I wanted to get comfortable.
"Half-sister," she said automatically.
I sat down on the bed and propped myself against the headboard. I snickered at the thought that I could nudge my sister with my foot. I turned my head towards Lydia. "Hist is the name of the trees, but hist is the name of our language. There's a slight difference in the pronunciation: the sibilance in Hist is held longer, like a hiss, whereas hist is said very shortly," I explained. "Once upon a time there was some Argonian that thought he was clever and told someone that the language is named "jel", but that's just a word that basically means tongue."
"Unfortunately, that Argonian was an ambassador and told that to one of the officials of the Empire, so it kind of stuck," Keesara grumbled.
"At least it works better for humans, even if it's technically incorrect," I chuckled.
"It isn't our fault their clumsy tongues can't talk properly," she scoffed.
"Keesara!" I barked sharply at her and gave her a firm nudge in the ribs with my foot. She squirmed away, spun and shot a quick glare at me. It took some small measure of willpower to maintain my disapproving expression against the desire to smirk at knowing that she was still ticklish.
"What? They talk badly about us all the time," she frowned at me.
"Then prove yourself better than that," I frowned right back. "Besides, most of the humans I've met in Skyrim so far haven't been bad people."
"Yes, you seemed to get on quite well with that Fjola woman," Lydia quipped. I'm certain that were I able, I would have actually blushed at the comment. Being an Argonian had its perks, though.
"I get on well with everyone."
"Except for the people you get into fights with," my sister gave me what she likely thought was a clever smirk.
I shrugged and chuckled in response. "Except for assholes and bigots, yeah."
A comfortable silence settled into the room. It seemed that for now discussion of my past was suspended. I was perfectly happy to explain everything there was to know about my culture to Lydia. I was sure I'd get asked questions about my family and home life at some point, but the longer all that could be put off the better. I wasn't thrilled to actually be reminded of who I was in Black Marsh.
"Would you like to know what our names mean?" I asked Lydia rather suddenly. I was struck by an abrupt whimsy to offer her something without her having to ask about it.
"What they mean?" she repeated.
"Yeah. Argonian names all mean something, like a phrase about that person. We don't actually get named until a year has passed after our births. It's thought that an Argonian should be known by his most defining traits," I actually kind of liked talking about my race now that I didn't have to worry about keeping my lineage a secret. "Some choose to go by their names in hist, like Keesara and I, and some like to translate them to Common Cyrodiilic so other races can get the same idea. Not that those traditions are much held to outside of Black Marsh. I doubt half the Argonians in Cyrodiil actually know what their names mean."
"Rootless," I heard my sister mutter.
I nudged her with my foot once more for the use of the pejorative. "Such unladylike language," I chided her. "Anyway, my name comes from an Argonian proverb: 'Only the strong can swim against the current.' Damn flowery if you ask me, but that's just my opinion. If I went by my Cyrodiilic name it would be Swims-Upstream," my mouth was actually a little tired from my long-winded explanation.
"And that's only given to royalty?"
"Yeah. We take our proverbs and idioms very seriously," I snickered. "I know, it's stupid, and I've never really understood it. Names that involve streams or water currents are reserved for aristocracy for some reason."
"What does Kai mean, then?" I was surprised by Lydia's question.
"It means my brother thinks he's clever," Keesara grumbled.
"Half-brother. And it means nothing," I answered.
"It's meaningless?"
"No, it literally means nothing or void," my sister clarified. "It was his little way of rebelling against our father for choosing him to be the general."
"I always told you I'm nothing special," I shrugged with a quiet laugh.
"But you are," I almost winced at her sharp tone. "You're the Thane of Whiterun, a prince of Black Marsh, you have the Histskin and you're..."
"I didn't ask for any of those things," I interjected before she could out me to my sister. I wanted to be the one to explain why I couldn't go back with her just yet. "I just...want to be able to choose my own path. I don't like how everything in my life has been decided by someone else from the day I was born," I said with a harsh sigh. "That, and I'm really not good at dealing with responsibility."
We trailed off into silence for a while. Our friendly chitchatting was going so well, too. I was looking forward to stepping outside and finding it to be too late for Lydia and I to continue and explore the area. Then I'd have to find away to con my sister into paying for my room for the night and that promised to be greatly entertaining. Now that my real reasons for leaving home were out in the open, things had gone somewhat downhill.
"Do you really not want to come home?" Keesara asked after what felt like minutes but could have been only seconds for how drawn out it had felt.
"Not really, no," I answered honestly. "I've been enjoying the past few years wandering around, being nobody important."
"You have a duty to your home as the next head of the An-Xileel," she frowned.
I sighed again. "I have a job to do here, too. And there's actually a replacement for me for the 'duty' I have back home. Urabrask will do fine."
"He won't be you," she turned away from me in a huff. "He won't be enough stop the Thalmor when they come to invade us after destroying the Empire."
"What makes you think I could?" I asked. "What makes you think the Empire is going to be destroyed, too?"
"It was last time," she shook her head, keeping her gaze away from me. "Brother...you're the only one I can imagine could keep Black Marsh safe."
I didn't have the heart to correct her about my status as her half-brother. "Lydia...could I talk to my sister in private?" I turned to my housecarl awkwardly.
To her credit, she didn't look like she felt half as uncomfortable as I did. "Of course, my Thane," she said simply before standing and leaving the room. Her immediate loyalty was both comforting and unpleasant. I disliked being reminded that even after everything I was still the Thane of Whiterun.
I shifted to sit by my sister. Her gaze was fixed on her folded hands in her lap. "Keesara...I have a job to do here in Skyrim," I repeated. "I'm the Dragonborn. I'm not entirely sure what that means yet, but apparently I have to stop a dragon named Alduin from eating the world or something."
She was silent for almost a full minute. "So you have to save the world," she stated simply.
"That's the plan, yeah," I nodded. "If I don't do that, it doesn't much matter whether or not I'm around to help Black Marsh against the Thalmor. There won't be a Black Marsh to protect or a Thalmor to defeat."
Her gaze finally turned up at me. She looked horribly sad and I dreaded the thought that she might start crying. "I just want you to come back home..." she mumbled.
"I know," I said and wrapped my arm around her shoulder. I was somewhat surprised by how quickly her arms wrapped around my ribs, though she couldn't quite fit them around all the way, with the extra bulk my armour added. "And...I'll think about it. Once I'm done with stopping the dragon nonsense." She seemed to relax at hearing that. "Not that I'm terribly certain I'll be the one deciding factor in any war."
"You could do it," Keesara's voice held the utmost confidence. She truly believed that. "There isn't anything you can't do if you want to do it. You killed a thrinax with a dagger two years before you even left home."
"Ah, my misspent youth," I drawled. I was rewarded with a quiet giggle and I was happy that I had cheered up my sister. "I can't help but feel Tal-Jarad didn't pay me enough. I should've charged him a night with that female he was seeing."
I earned myself a none-too-gentle punch to my unarmoured upper arm. "Ugh. Why do I bother?" she sighed haughtily and turned her nose in the air away from me.
"Bother with what? Was that whole guilt-tripping me into hugging you just because you wanted to seduce me?" I couldn't keep my jaw from dropping. "Dammit, Keesara. I already told you I'm not gonna do it."
"Why not? Don't you think I'm pretty enough?" she snapped her head around to glare at me.
"You're my sister!"
"Half-sister! There's no law against it!"
"Argonian law is not what you should base your morals off," I sighed for what had to be the thousandth time with my sister. She was beyond exasperating. And manipulative. "Almost nothing is illegal in Black Marsh. That doesn't mean everything is okay."
"I don't care that you're my brother," she grumbled.
"Half-brother. And I do," I gathered up my pack and supplies and stood at the door. "I'm going outside for some air and freedom," I announced. I left the room before she could argue. I refused to be trapped with her at the moment.
"My Thane!" Lydia sounded surprised when she caught sight of me. "You look...better?"
"I cheered my sister up," I shook my head and sighed once more. "Come on. Let's look for something to do."
We left the inn and walked outside to find it breaking into afternoon. "We weren't in there for nearly as long as it felt like," I frowned and looked around the diminishing marketplace. I caught sight of the only merchant whose name I had actually bothered learning. "Balimund! You wouldn't happen to know of any jobs that needed doing, would you?" I asked and headed over to him.
He looked up from stitching some leather. He looked somewhat surprised to see me. "Kai! I'm stunned you haven't left town yet," he said in a nearly hushed tone.
"Left town? Why?" I frowned again. "Because of that fight earlier? If it's a bounty issue I'll just pay the guards..."
His eyes widened further. "Don't you know who that was? That was Sibbi Black-Briar, Maven's son!"
"Yeah, I know. We chatted after I smacked him around. She didn't seem too upset by it."
"She might not be upset about you fighting Sibbi, but if you stick around she might think you're trying to cause trouble. She's...Well, let's just say you don't want to be on her bad side," Balimund looked troubled enough just be speaking of it.
"Kailev-Tel?" I heard my sister call out. I whipped around and felt a small headache start between my eyes.
"That girl is going to be the death of me," I muttered. "Kees! Over here!"
She spun around and her face lit up when she saw me. She could be so childish sometimes. She dashed over to me and nearly dove into me. Or all the time. I could swear her moods swung like no one else. "Having troubles, my Thane?" Lydia's soft chuckle sounded behind me.
"Not a thing," I turned around and pried my sister off. "Just having a blast reconnecting with my dear lost sister."
"Half-sister."
"Whatever. I have to leave town, apparently, so I guess we won't be hanging out anymore," she looked crestfallen at the news and I felt the pain between my eyes increase. I refused to be swayed by her doe eyes.
She quickly perked up and I knew a bad idea had popped into her head. "I'll just come with you," she stated, rather than asked.
"No," I said firmly. "I don't lead a particularly safe lifestyle, Keesara. I don't want you getting eaten by a troll or stabbed by a bandit," or burned up by a dragon, but that might draw some attention from Balimund.
"He's right. He has a very common habit of getting himself into a lot of trouble," Lydia supplied helpfully.
"And a common habit of getting himself out of them," I added. "The point is I don't need you getting in the way and getting yourself hurt or killed."
"I wouldn't get in the way," she sounded honestly hurt by that.
I still refused to be swayed by it, though. "Have you learned how to fight and kill people since I left?" I asked, though perhaps I was a bit too harsh.
She was silent for a moment. "Then what should I do? I'm not going back home without you," she said quite defiantly.
I thought on it for a brief time before an idea came to mind. I turned to face the nearly-forgotten Balimund. "Is there any way she could make it safely to Whiterun?"
He looked up from his leathers. Apparently he had already tuned us out. "There should be a guarded carriage coming in tomorrow morning. She'll be able to take that to Whiterun for about fifty septims."
"Thanks," I nodded and turned to leave.
"Hey, Kai, you should be good to come back in a couple weeks. Just give Maven some time to forget about you. If you do decide to come back, I'll pay you for any fire salts you bring me. They're how I keep the forge running," the blacksmith called after me.
"I'll keep that in mind," I called back as I led my sister back to the inn. I stopped her at the door to tell her I wouldn't be joining her. "Take this money and go to Whiterun tomorrow. I know some people there. Find a woman named Ysolda and tell her who you are, and she should be able to help you get settled in until I get back," I explained. "We'll figure out what to do from there."
She looked at the weighty coin purse in her hand and then back to me. "How long do you think you'll be?"
"Dunno. Until I get bored of walking around his half of Skyrim," I said with an easy shrug. "I haven't seen any of the west yet, so I'll have to end up back at Whiterun at some point." Keesara looked uneasy at that but agreed nonetheless. "Good. Now then," I chuckled and bent down slightly to wrap my arms around her in a proper hug. "It really was good to see you again, sister."
Her arms snapped up to wrap around my neck and return the hug enthusiastically. "Half-sister," she half-giggled while she tried to strangle me.
We stayed like that for a while, until I finally decided Lydia had to feel like a fifth wheel for long enough and released my sister. To my surprise she let go quite willingly. Maybe she had grown up more than I had given her credit for. "Alright, Lydia. Let's be off. There's still enough daylight for us to travel a few miles by."

A/N: I really wish I was better at writing dialogue so that this whole thing wouldn't be an expositional mess. I've actually had most of Kai's backstory planned out since around chapter 3. Which is incidentally around the time I made the story title and summary completely void of the original idea of this story, but whatever. I've had more fun writing it this way. Argonian society being more or less unexplained in canon at least gives me a lot of breathing room. As always, if you want to comment/critique/whatever, leave a review and tell me what you think. Also, go fucked up brother-sister dynamics.
15/12/12: Updated the summary to something that actually applies to the story. The old one was an artifact from when the story was planned to be much different, as is the title. That's harder to get away with changing, though.
- 13
- 14
- 15
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Line Begins to Blur