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Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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Going to give this a shot. Already have something started and will get it up as soon as possible.

OP here, awesome~! Can't wait c:

Hello again, OP! Sorry it took so long to get this done, but my perfectionism got the best of me. This is actually the first time I've posted on the meme, so constructive criticism is appreciated. I already misfired once, so let’s see if I can get it right this time…

char:M!PC char:Aela char:Farkas char:Vilkas char:Torvar char:Athis char:Brelyna_Maryon char:J'zargo char:Onmund char:Mirabelle_Ervine char:Tolfdir char:m'aiq char:Lydia char:Cicero
kink:crack/humor

If Soldin ever saw another troll again, it would be too soon. Exterminating a cave housing five of the beasts would not go down as one of his favorite ventures, regardless of how strong he was. The harbinger would definitely think twice before asking Aela for another assignment in the near future. Rescuing Heimskr and his crazed speeches was even preferable to this. All he wanted to do was get home, find his seat in front of the fire, kick his feet up, and down a nice bottle of skooma. He had run out of the substance two days prior and had gone so far as to maul the first Khajiit he saw for a hint of moon sugar. It hadn’t gone well, the fight ending with a corpse in a ditch outside the Loreius Farm, no sugar in the Nord’s pockets, and some crazed jester spewing nonsense about his dead mother.

Yes, he knew it was a bad habit. Soldin had met too many good folk in his travels that had seen their lives come to ruin from their dependence on skooma. It wasn’t as if he had sought out the addiction. He’d picked it up when he was sacked in Markarth and sent to Cidhna Mine, and it helped to pass the time as well as forget the less than enjoyable experiences he’d gone through there. Once he’d finally broken out with Madanach though, the Dragonborn had continued using the skooma on a regular basis, causing no shortage of troublesome situations.

Whiterun’s gates had never looked as welcoming as the thane approached. He kicked them open in joy and sighed in relief. The sight of Breezehome put a new spring in his step and the man practically danced to the front door. Lydia probably had food over the fire, ready and waiting for his arrival. He could practically smell the horker loaf now…

As the weary thane kicked open the door to his home, he came face to face not with Lydia and food prepared for his return, but rather a house full of companions and mages alike, all staring him down. Not a single person wore a smile on their face except J’zargo, and well, he was eying Aela up from the corner. This did not bode well for the Dragonborn.

“Good evening, my thane,” Lydia greeted with a small smile, “Welcome home.”

“Glad to be here… I think,” he said warily, eyes shifting from person to person, “Is something wrong?”

“Actually, yes.” Lydia gave a solemn nod, and offered the Nord his favorite chair. “Would you please take a seat? Your friends and I have something we wish to speak with you about.”

Soldin groaned. He was getting twitchy from withdrawals and did not have the patience after his little expedition to deal with fifteen some of his allies and their idea of a ‘grave situation.’ “Can’t this wait? I just got back from Winterhold, and I need to rest.”

“That’s why you’re going to sit in the chair,” Farkas said simply, “You sit and listen, and we’ll do the talking.”

Outnumbered and too tired to argue, the man relented and took his seat with a sigh, grabbing the bottle of mead on the table. He could tell he was going to need it.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Soldin sighed, “What is this all about? I assume you have a good reason for disturbing me in my home at eleven o’clock at night.

“Soldin, you have a problem,” Aela stated suddenly.

“If this is about the skeever in your drawer, then I’m sorry, but-”

“Skeever? What are you talking about?” A scowl overtook the huntress’s features.

“Never mind,” he said quickly, “Forget I said anything.”

“Harbinger, it’s about the skooma…” Vilkas stated.

Soldin promptly spat out the drink in his mouth, coughing slightly. He hadn’t expected that when he sat down. Talos save him. This was not going to end well.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Vilkas,” Soldin stated cooly.

The man rolled his eyes in response. “Please, don’t try to deny it, Soldin. We all know about your habits. You aren’t exactly… sneaky about it.”

Irritation setting in from his journey & now this confrontation, Soldin’s eyes narrowed. “What ‘habits,’ Vilkas? I don’t drink skooma.”

“Is that so?” Lydia said skeptically, opening an end table to reveal an entire case of the drink.

The thane’s eyes widened nervously. “Um… that’s not mine.”

“Mhmm. And what about these?” She opened one of the barrels beneath the stairs, revealing it to be filled to the brim with empty skooma bottles.

“Heh… heh… who put those there?”

“Probably the same person who hid the stash under your bed at the college,” Brelyna said skeptically.

“WHAT? Now who did that!? And why were you in my room!?”

“Soldin,” Mirabelle said warningly.

The Nord sighed. “Alright, alright. So MAYBE I’ve been indulging just a little bit of skooma.”

“A little? You call this a little?” Onmund deadpanned as he gestured to the barrel, “Soldin, I’ve never even seen a Khajiit caravan carrying that much skooma!”

Backed into the corner, Soldin sighed in defeat. “Look, I drink skooma. Fine. What does it matter? I’m the thane of several holds, keep Skyrim safe from dragons, and am a great person! For Talos’ sake, why should a round of skooma here or there be an issue?”

“I don’t see what the big deal is either,” Torvar slurred, “If he wants ta do the skooma, let ‘im do the skooma!”

“THANK YOU, TORVAR,” Soldin sighed gratefully, “See? At least SOMEONE makes sense around here!”

“You’re talking to the resident drunk,” Athis said, appalled, “What do you think he’s going to say!? The fact of the matter is that you’ve been drinking the stuff, and it needs to stop.

“Athis, I have the OCCASIONAL bottle. What’s the harm?”

“OCCASIONAL bottle? Harbinger, with all due respect, just the other day you were downing it like mead in Jorrvaskr!” Athis exclaimed, “You and Torvar were having a drinking contest, but you replaced yours with skooma and overdosed! You were twitching on the floor until he and I could move you to your quarters!”

“For the record, you could stand to lose a few pounds, old buddy old pal,” Torvar laughed, “That or dump some of the copious amounts of crap in your pockets. How many swords do you need to be carryin anyway?”

“Arch mage, at the very least, you need to rid yourself of this habit for the good of the college,” Mirabelle lectured sternly, “Your behavior is less than tolerable, and the new apprentices need a strong role model to look up to, not one that decides to make a tasty snack out of troll fat in the dining hall.”

“In my defense, it looked like cream to me,” Soldin said a scoff.

“BECAUSE YOU WERE HIGH.” The Dragonborn had only seen Mirabelle worked up this much once before, and that was during a conversation with Ancano… He didn’t want to end up like Ancano.

“Alright, alright. What if I just agree to only use skooma on my own time? No more quick hits in Jorrvaskr or college? I’ll just go elsewhere,” Soldin tried to reason, “No harm done then.”

“Forgive me, my thane, but that is still of a concern to us,” Lydia spoke up, “You are the Dragonborn, the one destined to stop Alduin and save us from the world’s end. You can’t exactly do that if you end up dead at a dragon’s hands.”

Soldin frowned. “Oh, I get it now. You all just want me to clean up my act so that I can save your little world from a big bad soul eating dragon. You don’t care about me at all! This is all about taking care of yourselves. Self-preservation!”

“That’s not true!” Brelyna quickly interjected, “J’zargo, tell him! Tell him we’re here because we care!”

“J’zargo cares not what the foolish Nord does. J’zargo is simply here for the gold he was promised,” the Khajiit dismissed.

The entire room glared at the cat, but the companions especially. It was no secret that mages and warriors got along like… well, cats and dogs. This gave Soldin an idea, a rather clever idea. The slightest grin crossed his lips, and he sighed dramatically. The bad blood between the groups was going to prove useful.

“I suppose I could try and kick the habit,” he mused, “But what am I going to put in my magicka regeneration potions now? It’s so much more potent than garlic or jazbay grapes…”

“You mages put MOON SUGAR in your potions?” Vilkas said, appalled, “It’s no wonder-”

“No wonder what?” Brelyna said defensively, “I suppose the eccentric mages are to blame for him getting hooked, hm? Isn’t that just like you Nord warriors to blame us when things go wrong!”

“I wasn’t going to blame your kind,” Vilkas snapped sourly, “However it’s not hard to see why mages are so disliked if they all have attitudes like yours.”
“Don’t speak to her that way!” Onmund cut in with a glare, “There is nothing wrong with studying the arcane arts. I’m just as much a Nord as you whether I swing a sword like some walloping brute!”

“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with a good sword,” Farkas growled.

“Except for the ones who swing them,” J’zargo muttered.

Vilkas shot to his feet & stormed over, grabbing the Khajiit’s robes & hauling him to his feet. The Companion was less than pleased.

“Say that to my face, cat!” Vilkas snarled, “I could make you into a rug.”

With that, J’zargo pounced, hissing angrily. He got in a few good swipes on Vilkas before Farkas barreled into the mage, sending him flying into a nearby cabinet. All bets were off from there, thunderbolts and punches flying. Even Tolfdir had gotten into an argument with Vilkas while the others were busy tearing each other apart, Soldin completely forgotten in the chaos while Lydia tried frantically to break up the brawl.

“Oh ho ho! Now things are livening up!” Torvar laughed before tackling Onmund, “C’mere, pal! I’ll show ya how a true Nord fights!”

“GET OFF ME, YOU BUFFOON!” The mage yelled angrily.

Ugh. Character limit.
_______________

Shaking his head at the scene, Soldin slipped out the front door. M’aiq the Liar was supposed to be in the area by now. With the Dragonborn’s skooma left in the fray, he’d just go find him and share a drink.

A few guards looking at the home suspiciously as the sound of shouting and furniture breaking easily floated into the street. They seemed to be ready to run in and break up the fight until a fireball blew open Breezehome’s front door. J’zargo came flying out of the building shortly after and landed in an unconscious heap outside while a sour Aela, adjusting her scant clothing, glared at him from the door way before getting dragged back inside by an enraged Mirabelle.

“…Don’t go in there,” Soldin said simply, heading for the city gates.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” a guard said as the soldiers quickly dispersed.

Anyway, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed, OP!

OP here.

ENJOYED

WITH THE STRENGTH OF TEN THOUSAND SUNS 8D

I'm very glad you liked it! Thanks for the kind words!

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