I’ve been meaning to finish this for months and couldn’t decide on an ending but roughly 3700 words later it seems to be as finished as it can be. TW for sexism/misogyny and mild world specific racism/ableism, because this wouldn’t be a disability blog without some incorporation. Enjoy!
“I can understand why Teldryn doesn’t like this city. It’s cold, it’s nearly always snowing, and the people are jerks.” I mutter as we walk through the gates of Windhelm having been held up by the guards as we approached the entrance, simply because I’m a foreigner...I can only imagine what it’s like for Teldryn and the other dunmer, and while it’s bad for them it’s worse for the Argonians and Khajiit, they cant even come into the city. “Do you want to go right to the house or do you want dinner first?” Farkas asks as we come fully into the city and the gates close behind us, the inn straight ahead. “Oi, you!” A voice calls and I look around to see who it is “Breton! Over here.” I look over near the braiser that’s by the inn, a trio of men stand around it “Well well well, haven’t seen you in awhile. Got anything for me girl?” The obviously at least somewhat drunk man asks. I remember him, Rolf stone-fist, brother of Ulfric’s right hand. I make a face and he frowns “What? No kiss for your old friend Rolf?” He puts on a fake sad face. I make a noise of disgust and start to walk the other way “Fine, then suit yourself...slut!” He yells after me and before Farkas can stop me I turn back around and begin to walk toward him, fuming silently “What was that?” I ask with a cold edge in my voice. “You’re just some pretty blonde, everyone only likes you because of your tits, now run off and pretend to kill some dragons you Breton slut, wonder why we even let half breeds like you in this city.” Rolf says and I can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath. I pause a moment-
-then slap him.
The impact sends him tumbling to the ground, falling hard against the cold stone. The two other men standing around the braziers look at me and I make a quick movement toward them, scaring them. They run off. I lean down to Rolf who’s cowering now “If you ever say something like that to me again I’ll do a whole lot more than slap you. Got it?” Terrified, he nods and quickly scrambles to his feet, running off. Standing back up I turn to Farkas, who seems a tad impressed. “I hate this fucking city.” I remark wiping my hands on my dress and letting my shoulders relax “Let’s go eat.” He makes a hum in agreement and follows me into the Inn.
We find a comfortable spot upstairs by the fire, it’s a bit of an odd layout for an inn, common room upstairs and the rooms downstairs. This is Windhelm though, everything’s a bit backwards. “I’m sorry for what happened back there, Len.” Farkas tells me as we wait for our meals, I shrug “No need to apologize, Rolf’s an asshole, you just need to slap some sense into them and they’ll run off, always do.” I explain “Still shouldn’t happen in the first place. The whole part about the dragons was completely out of place, too.” I look down at myself and chuckle slightly “And the part about my tits too, what’s there to like if there’s barely anything there? And next time a dragon attacks Windhelm they can just deal with it themselves if you so very much want to insist it’s all pretend” We continue picking out the various wrong points in the comments until our food comes, eat fairly quickly as the inn is starting to fill up, and head for home.
“I’ve always found this street, and this city, a bit creepy at night.” I murmur as we walk home “Why? Because it’s cold and dark or because there was a rampant murderer killing young women around last time we were here?” I think for a moment “Both I guess.” We get home not long after, thankfully the housecarl had already lit the fire, in both the downstairs common room and our room upstairs. I hang my coat up and stretch with a yawn, it’s begun to get late. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.” Might as well shower and get cleaned up, it was a bit of a long trip anyways.
Farkas walks into the room just as I’d finished getting changed into my night clothes and drying my hair, he must have gotten himself cleaned up using the shower in the guest room. I walk over to him and put my arms around his neck “Hello.” I say with a smile, which he returns and hooks a hand under my leg, picking me up and setting me on the table by the window. I look out at the snow falling outside, the storms starting to pick up “It’s good we came home when we did.” I say, one arm still around him and the other resting on the window. “It might be cold out there...but between you and the fire it’s plenty warm in here.” I smirk and kiss him before pulling back “Though I think the bed might be a bit more comfortable than this.” I joke and on that note he picks me up again, practically tossing me on to the bed. I prop myself up on my arms “Well that was certainly unceremonious.” I exclaim and he sits down next to me. “Why are people like Rolf?” I ask and he shrugs “Who knows, people grow up to be terrible people for a lot of reasons. There’s really no reason for people to be misogynistic, would you say it to you mother? No? Then don’t say it to anyone else, it's as simple as that.” I smile. He looks down at me “What? Why are you smiling?” I shrug “I’m just happy.” He leans over and moves a stray lock of hair away from my face, tucking it behind one ear, I lean up and kiss him, and again, he shifts and rolls over until I’m underneath him and I make a small noise as we come up for air “Well, I like when you’re happy then.” He murmurs softly before kissing me again and moving slightly to kiss along my neck. I smile and giggle slightly “You know, out of all the men I’ve met, especially the Nords, I think that you are one of, if not the most respectful.” I explain, and make a small gasp as there’s a small nip against my neck, I look over and gently tug on his hair “Are you listening to me?” He stops and looks at me “...Possibly.” He swallows and the look on his face suggests no “I’m not the best at multitasking.” I give him a look “I’m not so sure about that, I think you just like to listen to certain things. Selective hearing loss perhaps?” I reply. He places a kiss on my forehead “One-“ Another on my cheek “Thing-“ And finally a third kiss on the lips “At a time.” I sigh “Well, now that I have your attention; what I was saying is out of all the people, in particular Nords and especially Nord men you happen to be one of If not the most respectful, and I appreciate it.” He looks down at me with a small smile “I try.” He says softly, I’m not sure if it’s directed at me or to himself.
We sit there for a while, or sit and lay down to be exact. He runs a hand along the length of my side “The comment about your chest really was completely unrealistic. I never noticed but when you lie back they practically disappear!” He pokes one breast gently, almost as if he’s slightly curious “It’s really like there’s nothing there.” He jokes which draws a slight laugh out of me “What’s everybody doing commenting about them anyways…” I point to my face “My eyes are up here.” I move his face up “That includes you.” He blushes slightly and shrugs before rolling over again. “So...back to what I was doing...if that’s ok with you?” He aks toying with one of the buttons on my nightgown. I think it over for a second, most to assess if I’ll still be warm enough between the blankets and the fire, and come to the conclusion that I most likely will be. “I guess so, why not. We’ve got a lot of time before morning comes.”
I slip off my nightgown, adjusting the camisole that covers me quickly, and throw the nightgown in the corner before being pinned down again…”One more thing-“ I whisper softly “I better be able to walk tomorrow, or you’ll be the one getting slapped.” I warn. Farkas gives me a look that says “Really?” but my point has been noted. Another perk of being in an asexual relationship I guess, while I still might end up sore and bruised from my legs being squeezed, it’s not quite the same level of...impact. My neck on the other hand, however respectful, and always asking if somethings ok first, there will be some things that no matter how gentle you are...they’ll bruise. I think back to the comments made earlier and almost in a way disassociate for a moment. A light squeeze around my waist draws me back to the moment “You ok?” I nod and blink a few times, getting the situation out of my head. I run a hand against my neck for a moment, that’s definitely going to be a bruise in the morning. “Ow…” I mutter softly sitting up. Farkas holds me against him, noting the tension in my shoulders “Relax, Len.” He slips a hand under my shirt and runs it along my back “I’ll be gentle, I promise.” There’s something about that simple sentence that makes me melt every time. Perhaps because most afflicted with lycanthropy are not at all gentle? Or it’s an uncommon trait in such a hard land? Nonetheless I melt into the touches and the gentle kisses along my body, paying extra attention to faded scars and fresh cuts from the journey here, mewling softly now and then as something hits a particular spot.
Becoming finally exhausted, for a variety of reasons, I curl up next to him...or more precisely, half on top of him and half next to him. “Can you tell me a story?” I ask softly, laying my head against his chest and watching the snow fall outside the window. Farkas sighs and toys with a loose strand of hair “Once upon a time; there was a beautiful sorceress named Anna, and Anna traveled all over the country fighting dragons and other foes alike. At one point, she slapped some misogynistic pig named Rolf, who really needed to go home and rethink his life. After promptly dealing with that, Anna and her handsome traveling companion ate dinner, went home, had a delightful time, and went to bed. The end.” He looks at me. “That wasn’t a real story!” I protest “What do you mean it’s not real? It’s autobiographical!” He retorts with a smirk and I give him a look with pleading eyes and with a sigh he sits up and gets the book of short stories from the side table “One, then you go to bed. Do we have a deal?” He questions flipping to the page we’d left off on. I nod in understanding and he begins to read.
...I never hear the ending as I fall asleep before that, and wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside and sunlight streaming through the window. Farkas sleeps peacefully, Undisturbed by the light or the sounds from outside, black hair a sharp contrast against the pillow. Careful not to wake him I sit up and roll over until I’m once more sitting in his lap. I wait there a few minutes, silent and trying my best to remain still, instead looking around the room. It looks quite different with sunlight, Windhelm is usually such a gloomy city, it’s a bit odd. Slowly I shift slightly changing the bearing of weight, and the difference is just enough to make his eyes flutter open for a moment. I lean down and kiss his cheek “Good morning.” I say lightly before sitting back up. He rubs his eyes and blinks “Hi.” He replies, still chasing away the remainder of sleep, then looks up at me, pausing for a moment “What are you doing up there?” He asks and I shrug “Trying to wake you up...And I succeeded.” I climb off of him and plop down sitting next to him. “What do you want to do for breakfast?” I think about it for a moment. “Hmm, there is that nice place in the market that has good breakfast…” he noted before I can think of any options. “They have pancakes” he adds in a slight singsong voice “Or...whatever you call them in HighRock.” I pause thinking; Out of all the places in Windhelm, the market a short distance from the house is perhaps the most civilized. It’s not large, but there’s enough to entertain oneself, even for a little while. “Sounds like a good enough idea.” I laugh slightly to myself “And now you made me want pancakes.” Farkas grins “the power of suggestion is a very useful tool.” He pushes a stray lock of hair out of the way and tilts my head back examining my neck “Got any dresses with a high collar?” He asks and I bring a hand up to my neck, definitely bruised. “Fuck you.” Farkas just laughs “What can I say? You asked for it.” He remarks with a mischievous look in his eyes. I grab a pillow and whack him with it “Not funny!” I whine. Moving the pillow out of the way he grabs me and pulls me closer “Yes it is, quite funny actually.” He remarks giving me a slight squeeze as my arms are held immobile “Can’t you just do a healing spell or something?” He asks “Possibly, it might make them fade a little bit healing spells are more for open wounds...bite marks don’t count, not a deep enough cut.” I squirm trying to get away until I’m eventually released “So...you mentioned pancakes earlier. Can we go get some now before it’s lunch?”
You can smell them before even turning the corner and practically giddy I quickly hurry inside finding a nice place to sit. Thankfully it’s not too crowded and the food comes quickly. “You look like you’re about to explode from excitement, it’s just pancakes.” I shrug “I can’t remember the last time I had them.” As expected, they’re delicious, and surprisingly inexpensive. “So...now what? Go give Ulfric and Galmar a piece of your mind? They deserve it after all, with what happened last time we were here.” I think about it for a moment “Yep.” I reply simply and start walking off toward the palace of the kings.
This, is when magic comes in handy...large and otherwise very heavy doors. The guards seem surprisingly unphased as I conjure up a spell outside the entrance and send it flying toward the door, effectively slamming it open, and walk inside. Ulfric Stormcloak, the Jarl of Windhelm and pompous leader of the rebellion sits at the end of the room, disturbed by the loud clatter of the doors being thrown open. Good, I have his attention. Galmar Stonefist, the brother of a certain ingrate who I happened to slap yesterday, and Ulfric’s chief general and right hand man, stands next to the throne. The only other inhabitants of the large room are about six guards who stand by entrances to various other sections of the castle and the main entryway, and the steward who sits at one of the long tables doing paperwork. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of you throwing open my doors and marching in here, miss Lennox?” Ulfric asks with a note of sarcasm evident in his voice. “Oh nothing, I just felt like it.” I reply sarcastically, stopping about ten feet away from where he sits in the throne. Looking at Galmar I pause for a moment “Your brother sends his regards. And please for the love of talos teach him some manners why don’t you.” Ulfric makes a noise and rolls his eyes “So you got offended, is that what this is about?” I glare daggers into him “Partly, perhaps, but not entirely. What this is about, is how poorly you run this city, and that people such as Rolf Stonefist use that incompetency to their advantage by being racist, sexist and misogynistic, and generally...complete assholes.” At my explanation Ulfric goes into a fit of rage, and attempts to shout at me, luckily I dodge the attempted attack, and he looks at me and then at Galmar. “We wouldn’t be in this mess if my father hadn’t let those damn elven refugees into the city in the first place. Oh they had nowhere to go? Too bad, there’s a reason the Snow quarter is now the Grey quarter, damn elves ruined everything the place is a slum.” Ulfric remarks bitterly. “That neighborhood is now a slum because of inadequate resources, and its home to nords as well. The Dunmer living in that area have gone to great lengths to clean up the quarter and preserve their culture- you should be angry at yourself, not them.” Ulfric scoffs at the word culture and makes an offhand remark to my disgust. “If you have problems with how I run things then I suggest you leave. We don’t want the likes of you in Windhelm anyways. Go back to Daggerfall with your damn magic.” As if that wasn’t entirely obvious from the moment we crossed the bridge. Ulfric pauses and makes a disgusted face “I should have let you burn in Helgan.” he remarks and I laugh slightly “Ah well, if that happened you’d be stuck with dragons for probably all eternity and would most likely already be dead. Then unfortunately you’d miss your chance to be high king as you so so obviously want to...sorry.” I remark with a sarcastic grin, sending the oh so temperamental Jarl back into a fit of rage “Be gone you little vixen, be gone already!” He yells, can add that to the list of names I’ve been called on this trip. “Fine, but not without a parting gift.” Using telekinesis, a very useful spell I grip him by the throat and lift him into the air, before slamming into a nearby wall and dropping him. Galmar goes for his axe but I ready another telekinesis spell in one hand and a lightning bolt in the other “I would suggest you don’t do that.” In terror, Galmar takes his hand off the grip and back to his side. The steward doesn’t look up from his paperwork, but I can tell he is hiding a grin at Ulfric being put in his place. Turning on a heel I walk out of the palace, magically closing the doors behind me with a slam. “Well...that went well I think.” I remark to myself.
Farkas, who had been waiting outside the palace gives me a curious look and walks over to me from where he’d been waiting, leaning against a wall “Feel better?” I nod with a devilish grin “Much better.” The two of us begin to walk, or more accurate...I begin to walk and it takes Farkas a moment to process before running to catch up. “What did you do?” He asks back by my side as we pass the temple “Oh nothing…” I attempt to avoid eye contact “Len…” I pause and lean in “I’ll tell you once we get out of the city, the guards in the room didn’t mind but I’m not sure it’s good to say with people around.” I add with a whisper and get a sigh in reply. This is precisely why you shouldn’t leave me alone...I tend to get into trouble.
Having crossed the bridge and officially left the city and being out of earshot from any nosy citizens or guards we stop “So you want to know what I did, yes? All in all, not much. No severe injuries, not really very much of a threat, tense conversation really. Then I stormed out.” Farkas gives me an unconvinced look “What was the bang I could hear from outside then?” Oh boy I didn’t think Ulfric made that loud of a noise when he hit the wall but then again Windhelm does tend to have a very high rate of echo or vibration...oops. “I- I uh...might have telekinetically picked up Ulfric and slammed him into a wall after he threatened me…” I say putting a hand behind my head and trailing off more with each word looking at the ground. I glance up prepared for the worst to find Farkas looking at me blankly before a small grin appears. Surprised, I ask “You’re not mad?” He sighs and rolls his eyes “Now why would I be mad? Sure I don’t hate Windhelm as much as you but I don’t like it by any means. A certain murderous Jarl included.” Fair enough, we don’t enjoy murderous Jarls, lords, councilors, etc they really do make things rather gruesome and annoying. After a bit of deliberating, we remember part of why we came here, it’s the only dock that has passage to Raven Rock from Skyrim.
“I get why you hate Windhelm now.” I remark sitting down in the common room of the inn. Teldryn Sero removes his scarf having recently come in from the ash “Yes, the lack of respectful people certainly makes it less than pleasant.” He pauses and looks at us before taking a sip of his drink with a barely noticeable grin “But I’m sure you’re handled it alright. After all, you’re respectful to those deserving of it…” he must have spent an awful lot of time wandering Skyrim as a mercenary, and while I can sympathize due to myself being a stranger in the cold hard land, I cannot imagine the disrespect he must have faced from the locals. I guess there are upsides of being formerly employed by the Morag tong, and they of all people demand their clients and foes alike be respectful, no dishonor or disrespect allowed...