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By the Nine!	By : ShadowMeld Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 2885 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls series and make no profit from this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
Ondolemar did not care to be spoken of as if he wasn’t there, and his gold gaze showed it. But before he could voice his displeasure the redhead that seemed constantly to plague him raised his hands. “That’s enough lads, and Gemma. Our guest here was polite enough to ask, seems only fitting that you louts answer, especially as it seems he’s going to be staying with us for a while.”
The female rolled her eyes, sitting back on her log, “you first Red, after all you already told him my name.”
This actually seemed enough to make the brute color a bit, not that Ondolemar was amused by any other their antics. He was still displeased with the disrespectful way the woman had addressed him, and the general lack of decorum from the lot of them.
“I am Fjolfr,” the ginger Nord finally sputtered amidst good natured glares at the woman.
“Runar!” a blonde Nord shouted with flourish.
“Leifnar!” another darker blonde Nord howled back, like he was in a contest with the other to break the Altmer’s eardrums first.
“I would be Caius,” the Imperial introduced with a tired, yet indulgent nod.
At least the Imperial seemed polite, by human standards. The courtesy warranted acknowledgement on Ondolemar’s part, and he nodded stiffly to the other man. A loud thump sounded from behind them. The altmer started, turning in displeasure, only to see the dark haired Nord returned with several rabbits bound to a stick. The others greeted him with typical boisterousness, already jockeying for the fattest hare in the bunch.
All this the justicar watched while picking at his own meal. It seemed whatever wildlife populated this unfortunate wrung of oblivion was all of unnatural proportions. And the beasts hanging from the pole still had their coats on, and the hides looked…wrong. Dark, bristled and dangerous. It made him do a double take on his own meal, the largest of the beasts, but it looked still like it had to be some sort of hare. It was worrying, but the humans didn’t seem bothered by the unusual appearance at all, just skinning the beasts and stationing their spits over the fire.
The troupe settled down a bit when they all managed to get their meals situated. Though the dark haired Nord waited patiently for the others before setting up his breakfast.
“And that solemn sop would be Valund,” the ginger Nord interjected, gesturing to the silent brunette.
Ondolemar narrowed his gaze disapprovingly at the man. He didn’t like being interrupted in his contemplations or those that acted overly familiar with him, and in general just didn’t like Fjolfr. Still, at least he knew all of his unfortunate acquaintances names now.
There was some sort of beverage on the fire now as well. The humans were helping themselves, talking amiably amoungst themselves again, their unwilling guest seemingly forgotten. He didn’t know why, but watching them so comfortable, content in this wretched landscape made him feel inexplicably incensed. He looked down at the now barren roast hare, and seeing that he’d managed to eat the whole of the massive thing made him feel even more displeased. Those humans were all comfortable and here he was eating their food, and too much of it, a soldier of the Dominion unpardonably idle. Ondolemar didn’t know what time it was, but he was sure it was nor early enough that he would not usually have accomplished several tasks by now.
Horrified at his own unpardonable sloth, the altmer stood up from the log, taking the fur off when he realized he still had it wrapped about his shoulders. The cruel influx of cold was almost immediate, and briefly took his breath away. Without pause his body was reminded of the throbbing in his head and the ache deep in his bones from the overexertion of his magicka. Ondolemar spread his feet a little just to keep his balance, but by sheer strength of will and no small amount of pride the justicar forced himself to walk away from the fire and explore the camp.
It wasn’t large, but grudgingly he admitted that it at least had the essentials. Even if there was nothing of fine craftsmanship to be seen. This lot was clearly of warriors, not artisans. Walking around the camp his eyes also noted where the humans kept their spare weapons. He was sure that more were stashed somewhere in the tents, but one could note a few others lying about. Most were steel and heavier than he would like, though they would do if the Thalmor needed to call upon them. He of course preferred his magics, but in his current state he’d sooner blackout than fell one of them, particularly with the queer note of this pervasive cold.
He couldn’t explain it, but the wind felt oddly…draining. More so than the natural sort of frozen misery common to Skyrim. The mer just didn’t know what to make of it. He stared out into the twisted treeline, and started as a dark howl sounded far too close for his comfort.
“You don’t want to go out there.”
Ondolemar’s head whipped around at the voice, finding the over-familiar Fjolfr grinning at him. “I will go where I please,” the justicar stated coldly, finding the amusement in the other’s tone unpardonably patronizing. He was not a child to be herded away from anything. And most certainly not by a human.
“Just saying, there are beasts out there that’d find a good meal in a pretty thing like you.”
“I beg your pardon?! I am a justicar of the Aldmeri Dominion, I assure you that I can more than defend myself.”
Fjolf leaned one stocky hip against a post, tearing a bit of meat off of his roast. “Oh? With all your fancy magics tired, weaponless, you can fight beasts bigger than you? With nothing but that silky altmer nightgown as armor? That I’d like to see.”
Ondolemar felt his cheeks flood with color even as his eyes narrow in reflexive anger at the humiliation. He couldn’t even think of anything to say he was so furious, even more so because the damned human was right. “So I am supposed to stay cooped up in here? Your tame mer tied to this damn camp!”
- 6
- 7
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By the Nine!