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

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“I didn’t say anything” Kohl shook his head. Rowan shrugged, guessing it was the wind and continued flipping through the pages. The pages seemed as if they would fall apart any minute yet the cover seemed new. Rowan closed the book abruptly and took the book with her as the two trudged up the hill. Upon returning to their camp, Kohl made a light dinner of rabbit stew so as to sell the deer they bagged that day. As the sun disappeared, the fire from their camp illuminated the area around them. Kohl stared blankly at the fire, strumming on his prized Imperial Lute, while Rowan flipped through the book from before. Although she couldn’t read the ancient text the words seemed…. soothing. She knew some had learned the old languages of the dragons and made use of the power of The Voice but it took years to master. Only two people in recent history had mastered The Voice; Ulfric Stormcloak and the Dragonborn. She came upon a set of vertically scrawled lines and dashes no different than the rest of the words but something took her aback. The word seemed to stand out to her. Rowan closed the book with so much apparent force that Kohl was surprised. Rowan stood up, rounding the fire and standing before Kohl. Silently she stripped off her hide armor until she was in her small clothes. Kohl looked and confused. Rowan placed her hands on the side of his face and brought their lips together. Why was she doing this? She had feelings for the burly Nord but she was never one to act on her feelings? Kohl put his arm around her and dragged the two back towards his tent.

The next morning sunlight drifted through the hide tent. Kohl buried his nose on Rowan’s next. His breath waking her up.

“Good morning” he said happily. “Now that you’re done ravishing me, mind telling me what brought that on?” Rowan was silent. She didn’t know.

“I mean I know you’ve lusted for me since the day we met” Kohl smiled. “But that wasn’t something I’d expect you to do”. Rowan leaned up to look at Kohl.

“And what do you expect me to do?” she whispered.

“I don’t know” Kohl said bringing his lips closer to hers. “Steal glances at me for a few months, hoping I got the message”. Rowan chuckled and kissed him.

“Skyrim is different than High Rock” Kohl said pulling back. “If you want someone, you ask them. There’s no tradition that says the man must ask the female”. Rowan placed her hand on his chest.

“Come on” she patted his chest. “We have to get up. Got to get this haul to town”. Kohl nodded reluctantly and helped the Breton into her clothes. The two ate quickly, this time sitting next to each other, and packed up their camp. Kohl volunteered to pull the wagon with their catch.

“So what’s up with you and that book?” Kohl asked after several minutes of silence. “You were bent over that thing all night”. Rowan smirked.

“I wasn’t bent over it all night….” she said seductively. Kohl chuckled.

“I mean it’s just an old book. We should probably give it to Zaria when we get back to town”. Rowan frowned and looked down at the book cradled in her arms.

“I like it” she said. “It’s my own little piece of history”. A few hours later they pulled into Falkreath, the sun setting in the distant. Kohl stopped the cart right outside of Gray Pine Goods and rushed in to stop the two Nord owners from closing. Rowan sat down on the boardwalk in front and opened the book, scanning the ancient text.

“What’d you find?” a familiar voice asked. Rowan looked up to see a young Dunmer girl standing before her. Rowan smiled at Onma, the little girl whose father had come to Falkreath representing a Skyrim lumber company. The two were staying at the Dead Man’s Drink Inn as her father negotiated with the Jarl. Rowan had given the little girl some candy when she had first arrived in a town many perceived as backwards. Rowan handed the book to the little girl.

“I don’t know but its written in Dragon Tongue” Rowan said standing up. The young Dunmer ran her hands over the leather cover. “You know, the language on the Word Walls”. Onma nodded. Rowan turned to her pack to grab a small package.

“I shot a few rabbits and I thought that you’d want some” Rowan said, her eyes on the pack. Rowan shifted some extra firewood, a few vials of potions, a half eaten turkey wrapped up for later. Where were those rabbits? She heard an eye splitting crack, a scream and a commotion. She turned to see a trail of blood that led a few feet to a bloodied body. Rowan cried as she saw a young man in Stormcloak armor on horseback, standing over the commotion with a guilty look. The door to the Jarl’s Longhouse flew open as the Jarl and a Stormcloak officer charged out. Onmar’s father, Verun ran towards her body. Rowan joined the rest of the townspeople as several Stormcloaks attempted to move Onmar’s body onto a stretcher.

“Everyone get back!” a Stormcloak sergeant said in a thick Skyrim accent. “We have a Battle Maiden with us!” The stretcher was led away; Verun followed them into the Falkreath Barracks. Kohl emerged from the trade post a second after the Barracks door closed.

“What happened?” he looked about confused.

“Onmar was hit” Rowan stammered. She surveyed the central street, seeing two Stormcloak guards warding off angry citizens from the young rider.

“I had to ride fast!” the rider protested. “There’s a force of bandits descending on Fort Neugrad!” Kohl took Rowan’s hand, squeezed it. Rowan smiled at him and helped him move the food into Gray Pines Goods. With their gold the two decided to rent a room at the Dead Man’s Drink. As the two lovers crossed the street, Rowan found the book tossed off to the side in a pool of blood. The book was hardly touched. Before Rowan knew it she had picked up the book and tucked it under her arm. Upon entering the small building they found the main hall alit with conversation, a Bard played a hopeful tune and citizens talked about their experience. The two skipped a meal and instead retired to their room. The hustle and bustle of the main hall was drowned out in the creaking of their bed, their collective moaning and the shouts of pleasure that sounded from them. It was hours before the two had finished and the noise from the inn had stopped. The two lay entwined in each other’s arms as they whispered secrets to each other and Kohl talked about their future. The next morning the two dressed and started back out into the wild. The two made their way to a small ruined shrine and stopped to eat and make camp.

“Someone told me all the game is heading west,” Kohl said as he put out their fire and stashed their cups. “Maybe we should head west. Or go somewhere else to hunt. Whiterun is good”.

“Why would we go anywhere else?” Rowan snapped. “Falkreath is fine!” Kohl held up his hands defensively and Rowan realized how loud she was.

“Calm down. I was only suggesting we keep moving” Kohl said slowly. Rowan sighed and sat down.

“You’re right,” she said apologetically. “I’m…I’m sorry. How about after this next haul we move north, find somewhere we can hold a living during the winter months”. Winter in Skyrim was fast approaching. That meant towns needed food and as much as they didn’t want to abandon Falkreath they needed to earn a comfortable living. An area with fauna that could live in the winter is what they needed.

“I could get a job on the docks in Solitude” Kohl said pulling his pack on his back and checking his bowstring.

“And where will we live?” Rowan asked as she did the same. “Solitude’s expensive. We ought to go somewhere small like Dawnstar. See if they need hunters”. Kohl shrugged.

“We have a month to figure it out”. The two started off quietly to a spot on Kohl’s map. They passed through a thick area of the forest.

“What?” Rowan said hearing Kohl whispering.

“I didn’t say anything” Kohl shot. The whispers continued as they walked through the forest.

“Well I’m hearing someone mutter!” Rowan spat. Kohl stopped and turned. He looked around and squinted.

“It’s probably just the wind. Look, why don’t we make camp” Kohl sighed. “We just need to rest”. They stopped at a small grove of trees behind a boulder and Kohl made a fire just small enough to heat some Colovian tea to share over some bread.

“Let’s just sleep” Kohl said flustered. Rowan frowned and put her hand on her lover’s shoulder. Kohl just grunted and moved away from her. With night slowly approaching, Rowan put her head down. The wind whistled through the trees above and the whispers continued. It was the wind right?

The next morning the two silently woke up, ate the last of their rations and started into the forest. They brought down five rabbits and a wolf before they stopped to skin the animals and head back. All the while Kohl kept stealing glances at Rowan. Not the glances that lovers traded. A look of fear was on his face.

“Are you okay?” Kohl asked as he cleaned his prized Orc dagger off. Rowan rolled her eyes.

“I’m fine,” she groaned. “I…I just had to sleep”.

“Well you’re looking pale. Did you get enough sleep?” Kohl asked sliding his dagger back onto his belt. Rowan stood up quickly and started south back towards the pillar of smoke that represented Falkreath.

“Rowan!” Kohl protested as he followed her. “Are you sick?” He placed his hand on her shoulder but she roughly avoided his grasp.

“Listen let’s go back to Falkreath and get you some medicine!” Kohl called after her as she trudged into the forest. The whispers intensified, becoming hisses as something whispered ancient incantations into her ear, all the while Kohl kept yelling after her. It was insufferable. The words got louder as Kohl approached her. She screamed and turned, pushing Kohl. The whispers stopped as Kohl fell backwards.

“Rowan!” he cried as she straddled his body. She grabbed his dagger. “Rowan! Please!” She held the dagger over his chest. “I love you!” The words hung in the air, ringing with the sound of the dagger breaking through his chest. Rowan screamed. The whispers had stopped and she was standing over her lover with a blade in his chest. Rowan looked at the book. A soft ringing in her ears as she brought it closer to her face. She must dispose of this book.

A week later, Rowan pulled her hood closer around her as the ship pulled out of Solitude port. Standing at the edge of the ship, Rowan picked up the small metal box she purchased in port and opened it, placing the black book inside and locking it. She tossed the key into the ocean and sat down as the ship sailed through the mists of the Sea of Ghosts.

“Ma’am” a Breton sailor asked. “It’s probably best if you head to your room below deck, captain wants all civilians below deck”.

“Just give me a minute,” Rowan said without turning. She held the metal box over the edge of the ship and let it fall into the deep black ocean. The whispers grew fainter as she lost sight of it. Soon enough they were just a memory. Rowan sighed. Happy to have some peace and quiet.

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So that's it! I hope you liked it.If i get around to improving them i might post some of the other ones.Basically this is your classic, magical item is causing, in this case, mood swings.

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