Skyrim: Plaything | By : GE_The_Beast Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 21445 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This story is made for fun, profit and entertainment. In no way do I own anything discussed. I do not own Skyrim or The Elder Scrolls fandom in any way, nor do I intend any profit from this story. |
Gabriella took two weeks to have her fevers break and subside. The gaping wound in her body had accumulated dirt and dust while she was in the dungeon and while they crawled out of it, and got infected. Elayne poured cure disease potions down her ungrateful throat until the fevers died down and the woman started really recovering. The Dunmer’s skin was almost Altmer in color at one point, but as soon as that happened they panicked and made her more food. Hour after hour Elayne and Eola took care of her. Eola was a surprisingly capable bedside caretaker, especially good at noticing infection or poor health. Probably because she didn’t want to eat people that died of horrific sickness.
As a cook, Eola had little skill. She had survived on raw meat and dead flesh for years, and the words of the other world’s Eola came back to remind her that the other Dragonborn controlled her diet. So, Elayne spent most of her time cooking for all three of them, taking care of Gabriella, and forcing Eola to eat. The Breton was not appreciative of the hearty potato stews that Elayne commanded her to eat. She had to command her to! As if cannibalism would solve all of her issues.
But after weeks of sitting on their figurative asses and eating well, all three women were filling out. Gabriella no longer looked like a corpse. Elayne’s ass was definitely getting more jiggle and wiggle as she walked around, and Eola filled in everywhere. No wonder the other Dragonborn wanted her as his lover.
Gabriella paid a price for entering the other world. A ring adorned her middle finger, and it couldn't be removed. The symbol for Oblivion rested upon it, just like the price Elayne paid. Her headdress was getting larger again. It was no longer just a headband. The fake elven ears made of moonstone now had heavy earrings that punched through her real ears also. Large symbols of Oblivion hung down, impossible to hide. Quicksilver and Moonstone, they appeared to be made out of. Sometimes it almost felt like she was hearing things from them, an almost musical chime. It didn’t ring when they moved or touched anything.
The Companions had left in force during the first week, and hadn't returned. They only received two visitors during that time. A courier delivered a letter from Jarl Sidgier wanting Elayne to take care of some menial task. She could care less. The second visitor was Olava the Feeble. The old woman was at her door long past the time that anyone would be out. Late into the night and almost into the morning she knocked insistently. When Elayne answered the door it was completely dark except for her candlelight spell.
“Olava?” Elayne was shocked. “Do you know what turn of the night it is?” She hissed.
The old woman pushed past her, into Breezehome. “Let me see my childhood friend.” She whispered. “I saw a vision and it concerns her.”
She hadn't said anything to the guards all these weeks after seeing them, so Elayne let her come upstairs. Gabriella was wrapped in blankets, still seemingly unconscious. She had said nothing but mumbled words so far. Olava pulled one foot from the covers, the darker skin looking healthy. Then she whispered a word of magic and conjured a layer of frost over the underside of her foot.
Gabriella shrieked, the foot being drawn back under the covers at lightning speed. “She's been awake for three days, enjoying your ministrations. But the words I have are for both of you.” Elayne blinked. She still thought the woman was not well enough to rise.
Gabriella glared, her red eyes promising vengeance. “Crazy old bat.”
“You got cocky and stabbed.” Olava mocked. “Now shut your yap and listen. Both of you must take action today. You.” She pointed at Gabriella. “You must get home before the jester does. Take the carriage. You'll survive if you do. You must warn your family about the Jester. He brings a final judgement to you. You, Gabriella, must listen to the words spoken and change your fates.” Olava said, voice strong and carrying through the entire home. It was unlike the feeble tone she normally spoke in.
Elayne had taken a step back, concerned. “I'm, uh, the Dragonborn.”
“Doesn't matter, Walker of Oblivion. Hero. Slave. Cocksleeve. Dragon slayer.” Each word stung. She had sex in the other world. She had walked by Elrindr here, and didn't feel the same excitement she did back when Gabriella was in the dungeon. Gods, she never even used that bow to save her. She gave away her virginity for nothing, and it ate at her. “You must leave. Today. Go to Dawnstar and assemble your weapon. There are hunters that you must avoid. Ones who know your quest. You have been betrayed by your housecarl.”
Lydia had betrayed her? How? Why? “Why would she break her oaths?”
“You understand the nature of the Daedra and how they use their powers. She had no such preparation. She was manipulated by Molag Bal, and is no longer your friend. She is now your enemy, and is going to Dawnstar to stop you. You must beat her there, and prepare for those coming to kill you.”
Olava seemed to falter, sighing as she sank into one of the chairs. “Also, spend your money. You have much, and can afford to change the fate of many.” She seemed to be done speaking, and looked up at all of them. “Now! Get your things! All of you have far to go and I have firewood to chop! Go, get your pale asses out of here!”
In the panic that followed, Elayne barely got to talk to Gabriella. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Not for a while.” The Dunmer admitted. “But I wouldn't have made it without you. Babette could learn some bedside manners from you.” Her laugh was not a healthy one. “But I know Olava. I knew her when she was young. She's a Seer. She can see the future. So you're in luck. She can see the future, but it isn't set in stone. But I would listen to her. You've taken good care of me, and I'll pay it back to you.” Gabriella held her arm, to keep eye contact. “I promise. I know that the Jarl survived. I won't try to kill him again. Not when he is guarded by a Morag Tong Bitch.”
“You don't want to get impaled again.”
“No!” Gabriella mock-screamed. “Plus, I don't think the client actually performed the Black Sacrament. All of this doesn't feel very much like the old days.”
“The other two people died. So you can at least have that to bring home.”
“I'll be okay. Come back to the Sanctuary soon. I know you're a big shot hero, but you should come and enjoy your family.”
“I will.” She embraced the Dunmer carefully. “I just need to find out who I am fighting next.”
They had to help Gabriella to the carriage. She was set into the back seat, while Elayne and Eola hired their own carriage towards Dawnstar. The horses looked half starved, but the gold helped fill their bags with feed. She and Eola rode through the mountains, coming into Dawnstar after two harrowing cold days of rain and snow. Elayne had to be kept awake, or else she would just strip out of all of her clothes in front of everyone. She had no idea how to break that curse yet. Eola found it entertaining at Breezehome, but they were in public now.
The bay had a large piece of ice blocking it, keeping three ships from leaving. Two looked like normal freighters, but the third was a larger ship. It had a tower in front and in back, in the Hammerfell style. It looked out of place with its colorful banners and bright style. “Think we should stop there first? Before we see Silus?”
Eola was wearing a dress with enough coverage that she could hide her collar. And decent boots she paid for. “Worth a shot. Maybe he has some books or scrolls we can get. Something to help against whatever we have to deal with.”
The ship seemed to have bored sailors going back and forth to the tavern, with a couple of people sitting on the main deck rolling dice. One of them was wearing a flamboyant ruffled shirt, as well as a mage’s hood. Nords didn’t trust mages most of the time, so he must have been wearing it knowingly. “Hello!” Elayne called, heels clicking on the wood of the quays.
“Hello!” The man in the ruffled shirt stepped forward. “What can Captain Aiden of the Winnowill do for you today?”
“My name is Elayne.” She offered, cloak around her body. It kept her warm in this frigid wind. “I was wondering if you had anything for sale.”
“That I do.” He grinned. “Rare goods from Wayrest and further afield. I even have some sload soap for the aspiring master alchemist.” He grinned, one of his front teeth replaced by a gold cap. “Or perhaps you are looking for Elyctra? Ambrosia? Perhaps some Daedra Silk.”
“While rare alchemical ingredients are nice, I was more looking for weapons, scrolls, and items that could help in the cold.”
The Captain seemed to judge her. “Nords in Solitude already bought all of the weapons I had aboard. Apparently want to keep anything of that nature from going east.” He chuckled. “Civil war and all, I understand. I’ll bring even more next time.” He laughed darkly. “So, you need something special. Come aboard, let’s talk business. You’re a Breton?” With her Dragon Priest mask and moonstone headband, she almost looked like an elf these days. An elf with a fantastic ass, if she could say so herself.
“So are you?” She challenged. They both grinned that special grin that a merchant enjoyed to see.
“Not a member of the Reachfolk?” He asked.
“Folk with coin have no home,” She started quoting a famous Wayrest bard.
“-and loyalty to no crown,” He responded, grinning.
“Except that which is in Mint!” Elayne and Captain Aerin finished the poem at the same time, cackling.
“A lass of Wayrest, then! Excellent!” Barrels were dragged over and covered with furs to make a bargaining table. “Now, I’ve got luxury goods that may interest a merchant.” He glanced at the weapons at her belt. “Or adventurer. Skyrim can’t be too safe, I am guessing.”
Behind her mask, she could enjoy any emotion she wanted. Make faces at people that pissed her off. Aerin was at least entertaining. “Something of an adventurer. Something more of a researcher.”
“A mage and an adventurer. A rare sort.” Aerin nodded, making his men drag a chest onto the deck. “I’ve got a few things that may interest you.” He drew out a leather pouch that contained a few potions. “These here are some rare types made by the nobility of Wayrest. Love potions, potions to cure a frozen heart.” He motioned to some of the small vials. “Poison of Obsession, Poison of ignorance, and a poison of forgetfulness.” He grinned wider. “Very useful when someone wants to avoid being remembered.”
“Obsession?” Elayne asked. “Explain that one.”
“You poison someone. Make it easy, quick. They will obsess over whatever holds their attention over the next for moments. Obsession lasts for weeks, and by that time they’ve probably acted upon it. Can be useful.” Aiden said, swinging the vial around. “Ignorance is the same, and has broken many a strong marriage union.”
“I’m not trying to accomplish much intrigue. But the obsession might be useful.”
Eola waggled her fingers. “Tell me about this love potion.”
Aiden smiled. “The love potion is simpler, yet difficult to accomplish. The potion has an activated or passive state. It’s technically not complete. You have to add something from the person the potion is going to be falling in love with! Saliva is good, but ho-ho!” He laughed, waving a finger in front of his lips as if he was keeping a secret. “There are stronger ingredients. You add any of those to the potion, and whoever then drinks the potion falls in love with the one who provided the ingredients.”
“How long does it last?”
“Up to a year.” He grinned. “Very potent elderflower ingredients are used in its make. They sell very well in Vvardenfell, I’ll have you know. House Telvanni will often kidnap daughters of other houses and use this to make them pliant.”
“We won’t need that.” Elayne insisted. “Do you have anything that might help against vampires or daedra?”
“Hmm.” Captain Aiden seemed to consider that for a long moment. “Sorry, I don’t exactly have much that is marketed towards warfare. Anything worth buying was snatched up in Solitude. But I do have goods from High Rock if you’re interested.”
“I’ll take a look.” Elayne allowed herself. “Though I’m not overly eager to spend money on,” She started to say, as Aiden drew out fabrics and colors that you just didn’t see in Skyrim. Dresses and robes that belonged back home, with allegiances of cities and towns left unmarked on the hems and shoulders. But in the pile was at least one enchanted set of fabrics. Elayne drew out the item, a beautiful green corset with flowering brocade. Gemstones ran around the border, promising to glitter if a dress revealed too much neckline. The laces were strong and looked well kept. But it was the perfect color to match a high end merchant back home. “What’s that?”
“Corset from Wayrest. Makes prices better, based on your luck.” He grinned. “One fifty.” She managed to haggle Aiden down to one thirty, and got a nice Wayrest outfit for herself. Something to feel like she was from High Rock sounded like just the right gift for herself.
Next, he pulled a large crystal from the depths of his chest. “You might appreciate this. A Varla Stone. Can be used as a re-usable soul gem, or for complicated magic. Break it, and it recharges every magic item in the area. Hang it from a chandelier and it will slowly charge them. By slowly, I mean days. Weeks for more powerful items.” Aiden definitely had her attention. “It’s an Ayleid artifact. Rare find, outside of Cyrodil. Twelve hundred.”
This she felt like she had to have. Elayne ended up paying eleven hundred gold just for the Varla stone, but was extremely excited about the corset she bought. Anything to make haggling better. As they stepped back off the quays, she and Eola had spent about half the gold she had brought with her. Thousands more were under Breezehome, but that much money got heavy. Off to Silus’ museum they went, while the sun was just starting to get higher in the sky. Silus blinked owlishly at them as he opened his door, as if in shock. “Lady Dragonborn?”
“Silus.” She grinned. “I have all of the pieces, and it is only the twentieth of Sun’s Dusk.”
“You do?” He seemed shocked. “We must make haste, then!” He dashed inside, grabbing a bag full of gear. “We have no time to lose!”
“Wait, wait, what’s the hurry?”
“Today is the summoning day of Mehrunes Dagon in lore. If we march as fast as we can, we can be at his shrine before the end of the day.” He shook his head. “No, no no. No chance of failure. We shall take horses!”
“Silus, if you think this is important, let’s split the cost of the horses.” Elayne insisted. “Where is this shrine?”
“It’s an ancient one. It’s in the hills behind Stonehills and Labyrinthian. If we ride hard, we can get there!”
Elayne nodded. “I’m fairly familiar with that entire mountain range. Let’s go.” Even though she hadn’t slept, a couple of remove fatigue potions and she was able to ride. She and Eola on one horse, and Silus on a smaller mare. She had ridden along these roads twice in recent days, between Mzinchaleft and the hall of the vigilants. “Follow me!” She knew that there would still be bandits at Mzinchaleft. So they rode the horses hard, only taking a break at midday at a crossroads in the shadows of that Dwemer ruin. Sure enough, there were still a few archers on the walls. Riding in the cold with her elven armor made her want to chew snowberries all day, as she and Eola shivered in the northern winds. Silus had a sniffle, sneezing in the wind as they pushed hard.
Just before the road went to Stonehills, they turned off into the mountains. The snow was thick, but the horses pushed past it. The hardy Skyrim breed didn’t seem to mind the cold at all. They were just in one of the small valleys when they passed a couple of Vigilants. They seemed to be digging out a cave entrance, using mining tools. “Lady Dragonborn!” They waved, recognizing her mask. “What brings you to this place?”
“We are looking for a way through the mountains to the other side.”
“Avoiding Labyrinthian, eh?” The taller vigilant said. He was a Nord, and seemed unbothered by the cold. “Don’t blame you. There is a dragon harassing the frost trolls that live there, and no one wants to get in between them. Well, if you don’t mind going near the peak, there is a goat trail that goes between those two peaks. Can’t miss it.” He said helpfully.
“What are you two doing here?” Elayne asked. “This storm is going to bury your work.”
“Bah!” The shorter muttered, an Imperial. “This is the place, I know it is!”
“I made a promise to help him. I’ll keep it.” the Nord shared. “He believes this is a place called Damhallow.”
“Dimhollow!” The Imperial corrected. “I found journals that point to it being important!”
“Yes, yes. Better than chasing shadowy figures near Labyrinthian, I think. Some digging doesn’t hurt, either.”
“Shadowy figures?”
“Keeper Carcette saw some report that there were daedra summoners or something avoiding towns and moving south. So a bunch of us Vigilants are out in this storm looking for them. I thought it better to dig out this.”
“You two stay safe.” Elayne said. “And I thank you for the directions.” She kicked her horse into gear, as Silus also followed. But she heard the loud Nord speak after they were on their way, his voice carrying on the wind.
“Did you see her earrings? Signs of Oblivion.” There was a muffled reply. “Yeah, gives me the chills.”
Elayne shook her head, the earrings not making noise as she tried to put that out of her mind. But their words were correct. There was a goat path through the hills, and before the sun was down they had arrived at the base of an ancient stairway. It was buried in snow, but the three of them were hurrying up the steps. The horses had been pressed hard, and they were sweating as they reached the top. There was an ancient set of doors here, scratched and pitted from time and the elements. A long altar also filled the space, the sun’s dying light coming over the mountains. “Silus!” She barked. “What now?”
They had actually made it in time. The Imperial came over to the altar, wiping away the snow that had gathered on top of the stone. Carefully, he laid out the pieces of the razor and began chanting something in Daedric. Her earrings were chiming immediately, as though something had gone terribly wrong. She looked around, expecting an attack to come from anywhere. The sun seemed darker, and the area in front of the altar seemed to split. A crack formed in the air, and a wave of heat rolled forth. Snow melted, steaming and revealing the stone beneath.
“You seek death, mortals. You impugned my sacred day with a lack of sacrifices or blood. Beg for my mercy and despair!” The voice that tumbled from the portal was loud, rattling the snow around them and causing a short avalanche.
Silus whimpered, not at all prepared for this. Eola and Elayne gave each other a look. They had spoken with Molag Bal. They knew Daedric lore. “Dagon, Lord of Destruction!” Elayne spoke loud and clear. A wave of heat rushed from tdeedhe portal, melting more of the snow and raising a cloud of steam in front of the tear in reality. “We come to assemble your Razor!”
“You are brave or foolish. Perhaps worse. But my blade has been quiet for too long! You must bathe it in the blood of a powerful creature, to ensure that it is never shattered again. You carry the rusting weapon of Molag Bal at your belt, do you not?”
Elayne stood tall, letting the heat of his words rush over her. “I do. I seek the death of the son of Akatosh.”
“With my blade, you seek to confound the Aedra? Brave indeed. Then you must do as I demand. My blade can only be restored by an act of gruesome murder. A sacrifice. Bathe the pieces of my weapon in the blood of a Daughter of Coldharbour, and end her life. Return to me with the blood still upon the pieces, and I shall restore my weapon for you.” The portal shut, and the wave of heat cut off. Elayne’s robes rushed with cold soon after, a scorch mark left upon the mountain top to show where the portal had been. The stone was glowing, radiating heat.
Eola took a deep breath. “You certainly make life interesting, Elayne.” She said, smiling. But then she looked back towards the smoking altar. “Are you alright, Silus?”
From behind the altar, the Imperial was cowering. “I am alive, Lady Dragonborn. But it appears we have company.”
Coming up the stone steps were eight figures. Each one seemed to have yellow eyes, the only thing that stood out about them in the darkness. She came to the top of the stairs, holding eye contact with all of them. “Welcome to the shrine of Mehrunes Dagon.” She said imperiously. “Be you friend or foe?”
With that word, the sun finally fell below the horizon. Without it’s light, the cold seemed to bite all the more painfully on her exposed legs. As the sun’s light left, all eight figures drew back their cloaks. Two women in front held her attention. Both were Nords. Both had dark hair and pointed faces. An Ebony warhammer rested in the hands of one, and a familiar dwarven warhammer rested in the hands of the other. “Dragonborn.” The woman who could only be Fura Bloodmouth said. “We offer you this one chance to surrender. Come with us. Our master wishes to speak to you.”
Elayne’s mind rattled as she realized what these people were. Vampires. Red eyes and sharp teeth met her thoughts. Especially those of Lydia. Her housecarl was wearing a new set of red leather armor, one that emphasized her large breasts nicely. Stupid sexy Lydia. Heeled boots and tight red skirts seemed to tease more of a glimpse, completed by the moonstone collar around her throat. “Harkon.” The other Dragonborn had defeated him. She could too. She just needed to know more. To know how. “You want me to see Harkon.”
Fura grinned, something that chilled Elayne. “I’ll have you know, I was the champion of the arena when I was alive. In death I stand undefeated.”
“We shall see.” Elayne racked her brain for any kind of way out of this. Eight vampires against her and Eola. She didn’t trust her odds. Silus would be of little help. He admitted that he was no warrior. Looking around, she could only see a few creatures moving. In the light of the moons, she could see a dragon in the sky. Nibbling her lip, she came up with a plan on the fly. “Lydia?”
Her housecarl seemed to glare at her with some form of hatred. “What.” Her voice held no signs of kindness or their old friendship.
“I release you from my service, and your oaths. You are no longer a part of my legend. When it is retold, your name will never be a part of it. The other Dragonborn had more respect for you than I have now.” It was cold, and cruel beyond count. But it did spark the fire.
Lydia roared, charging up the stairs towards Elayne. “Divines take you back to the Oblivion you came from, you bitch!”
Battle was joined.
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