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Skyrim Page 5 - "NAKED! Naked naked naked "

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As her dagger pierced the heart of Grelod, the passed ten years flashed before her - living on the road, falling in with bandits, the near execution in Helgen, the strange voice that exuded from her, leading her to Jarls and dragons. Through all that noise and confusion, the cries of a lonely orphan made their way to her, like a torch in a foggy night. Every cell in her body responded to his desperate whispers into the night and when he asked her to kill Grelod, the ten year old girl in her cowered and was afraid. But it was that ten year old girl that had defied Grelod, ran way and made her way to the twenty year old woman who was now fearlessly plunging her dagger, the dagger that he gave her, into the old bitch's fading heart.

"This is for Aventus." She whispered into the hag's ear, sticking the blade in deeper. "This is for me," deeper still, "and for.. Myrna," twisting the blade cruelly, eliciting a muffled scream from Grelod, "because of you that woman died that night, the night I got away. Your death sets her spirit free." She looked into the dead woman's eyes and with drew the dagger, letting Grelod's body collapse like a sack of carrots to the floor.

Without hesitation she flung open the doors and announced to the children and young Imperial woman in the other room: "Grelod is dead. An orphan has had her revenge. Any who mistreat the residence of Honorhall will fall to my blade. Is that clear?" she walked over to the young woman.

"Y..yes. I understand." Constance Michel responded.

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Departing the orphanage, the young woman breathed in the air and sighed. The huge weight she had been carrying around for years suddenly was removed. She felt like laughing, crying, and screaming all at once.

It was the sound of hammering from across the canal that brought her back to herself.

She walked slowly toward the sound, finally seeing the Scorched Hammer come into view. Her heart quickened when she saw him, bent over the anvil, his back to her, hammering. She knew it was him instantly. She wasn't sure how to approach him or even what to say. She just stood next to the wall, watching him from around the corner. After a moment he stopped and straightened. He looked to his left and right - he knew eyes were upon him. Finally, he turned around. He didn't see her at first. She saw the ten years on his face, along with a large scar on his cheek. He had a few more lines in his face, a full mustache covering half his face, and his chest and shoulders were broader, but it was still Balimund.

Then he saw her. It only took him moments to realize who she was. She stepped out from behind the building and took a step toward him. As he looked at her his face softened, a faint twinkle returning to his eyes, but then worry and alarm overtook his features as he saw the blood on her and the dagger, still in her hands. He rushed over to her and brought her toward the front door, away from view of the townsfolk.

"She's dead, Balimund. Myrna is avenged." The girl suddenly felt woozy and her knees began to give. Balimund caught her and helped her inside.

"I've got you now love," he said, his strong arms supporting her, "and this time, I'm not letting you go."

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Hurrah, a fill OuO

Eeeeee my heart hurts but I am looking forward to next part~

This passerby anon is eagerly looking forward to the next segment! A Balimund fill is a good fill.

It was moments before she realized where she was. The fire in the main room crackled next to her, warming her skin. Her eyes were glazed over, staring away into the corner of the room, not focusing on anything in particular, but still and non-responsive, her mind and emotions completely exhausted. The warm, soapy water on her arm and hands felt good, cleansing away the blood and anger over Grelod. Eventually, she came back to herself and shifted her glance to the man who knelt before her, washing her. She focused on his high Nordic cheekbones and wide jaw. The soot from the smelter and anvil seemed tattooed in the lines of his face, so many years of labor. His wheat colored hair with the faintest blush of auburn, tied back, a few leather-bound plaits shifted softly at the side of his face. She sat motionless, only aware of the gentle rise and fall in her chest and the diligent work of the man she sought for ten years.

Balimund's honey brown eyes slowly looked up and caught her gaze. She didn't smile, but just looked at him, regarding him, studying the reality and matching against the dream she ritualized every night of her life. It matched up. His hand found the side of her face.

"Are you here, with me?" he whispered, his brow knitting with worry.

"Yes." she uttered, managing a small smile. The worry was erased from his face as he stood. He cleared away the washbowl and rag and walked over to the kettle and ladled out a bowl of something for her. Placing it before her, his hand was on her shoulder, fingers massaging her toned flesh.

"I am going out to see if there is any word about Grelod. Stay here, I will return." She nodded, looking up at him. He lingered a moment and then left, gently closing the door behind him.

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If it had been anyone else, she would have worried they were turning her in, but she knew Balimund would never betray her. Though she only knew him for several hours, he constituted such a constant and solid point in her life. In some of her darkest hours, the kindness in his eyes would calm her, like a childhood lullaby on the winds of adulthood.

She managed only a few mouthfuls of the stew before her eyes began to involuntarily shut. The ordeal with Grelod was ten years in the making, culminating with the sweet cessation of her miserable life. Did she feel satisfied? Did she feel complete?

"I…I can't think about this.." she mumbled. She stood and stumbled down the hallway that led from the main room. She looked into the room she occupied so many years ago, but saw it was storage. She continued down the corridor and found a larger room with a double bed. She knew it was the bed he shared with Myrna. A cold, dull sadness filled her chest. She loved Myrna, remembering her kind, gentle manner. She killed Grelod partly to avenge Myrna, she would kill one hundred more people to avenge Myrna. In a half daze, she removed her leather armor, down to her undergarments and fell into the bed. The sweet smell of fresh hay, animal skins, and Balimund's skin drifted her to sleep.

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The warm sunlight brushed over her long lashes, bringing her gently from her sleep. A sweet breeze cooled her skin, bringing the warm smell of honey from the meadery with it. Her eyes fluttered open to greet the morning. At first she thought she was dreaming - surely guards would pound on the doors at night, searching for her. But no, she was awake now. A linen blanket was over her body, a new addition while she had been sleeping. Balimund had returned. She sat up, her cheeks darkening as she realized she was only in her undergarments.

"Oh well…" she muttered, rising. She looked round the room and saw the large washing bowl and fresh linens on the dressing table. She smiled, unaccustomed to hospitality and someone looking out for her. She undressed and began to wash. The water was still warm. She looked around and strained to listen, but there was no noise about the house. He left a clean dress for her and doe-skin shoes. She never wore anything but her armor. Perhaps a foray into civilian life would be a nice change.

As she walked out in the main room, she began to hear a scraping noise from outside. She smiled and walked outdoors.

"Good day." She said, walking over to him. He looked over his shoulder and smiled broadly, standing to meet her.

"Good day to you, love." He said, pausing awkwardly at the last word, but quickly recovering. "I didn't want to disturb you when I came back, you were sleeping so soundly." She nodded. "No one seems to be talking about it much, except that it's good riddance she's gone." Her eyes narrowed.

"Yes, it is good she no longer walks among us." She looked away.

"Are you, okay?" he asked, "You were fairly distraught last night."

"Yes I am, certainly. It was the completion of a long ten years, I was utterly exhausted. Thank you for letting me stay here last night."

"You are welcomed to stay here as long as you like." He paused. "It is so good to see you again. Even against all odds, I knew we would meet again. I've thought about you often." She felt a quickening in her chest.

"It is good to see you as well. All at once, ten years have been compressed into minutes. Somethings feel unchanged." She said.

"Yes, but somethings are so changed. Look at you! You are a young woman now, a child when last we met. I am an old man now." He said, laughing.

"No, no. I do not think an old man." She put her hand on his upper arm. "I believe you would still be a fierce opponent in a battle." She smiled.

"Ha! Well, blacksmithing does keeps me fit, I suppose…" he trailed off. After a moment he spoke. "Will you stay? Because if you went away again, of I lost you… I…I don't know…" his voice suddenly thin. She stepped closer, her right hand still on his arm, her left seeking his face.

"Yes, Balimund. I will stay with you for awhile. I would like that very much." She said softly.

"My name, you remember my name." He said, smiling and shaking his head. "But, my little fawn, I do not know yours." She did not speak at first, unsure how to answer.

"I do not have a name." She said with no sense of deceit upon her face. "I may have had a name long ago that my mother used before she gave me away, but I do not remember. The names I have been called since never seemed fitting." She paused, searching his face. "Is that bad?" she asked.

"No love, not bad, but it does makes me feel sad."

"Why sad? What do you think of, when you think of me?" she asked.

"I think of protecting you and never letting harm find your doorstep. I look at you now, a young woman, and I don't know… I feel confused." He whispered, staying close. "What do you think of when you think of me?" She looked at him and wanted to pour her heart out and melt into his very body, but she pulled her arms back to her sides and stepped away from him.

"I think of Myrna when I think of you." She said, looking down. "Where is she buried? I should like to see the place."

"Come, I'll take you." he said nodding somberly.

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They both stood outside, a few paces from a Shrine of Talos, back by an abandoned gate of the city. Neither spoke, but stood for many minutes in silence over the weathering stone. Finally, she broke the stillness.

"It is fitting she is buried here, outside among the wildflowers. The Hall of the Dead is too dark for one who was so beautiful and kind in life." She said. Balimund nodded, but did not speak. The flowers she gathered earlier were still in a neat bundled, tied with a thin leather strip. She knelt down and placed them at the base of the stone. After a few moments, the tears came silently. She hung her head and let her cheeks become wet and her heart to begin to heal. She felt a warm hand on her shoulder. After a while she straightened herself up, breathing deeply. Balimund looked at her and smiled.

"You know," he began gently, "none of it was your fault."

"But,"

"No, please hear me out. Myrna was my wife and I loved her dearly. She was murdered by corrupt guards. You were a child, free from any wrongdoing. I hope you can understand that." He finished, taking her hand. Her body stiffened at his touch and he perceived it. "I grieved for Myrna. There were days I didn't know how I was going to get out of bed. Some days I thought I would be okay and others I was a mess. Having to care for Asbjorn was a blessing, he kept me going."

"Yes, Asbjorn! Your son, does he live near Riften?"

"He still lives with me, just in Winterhold at the moment." He paused. "The point of all this, I guess, is that I have had ten years to mourn and heal over the loss. I feel that you have kept the wounds open and very close." She sighed. After a pregnant pause, she spoke.

"I suppose I have. After I escaped, I had no idea where I was going, I just ran and I think I've been running ever since." Then began to stroll side by side back toward Balimund's home.

"I can only imagine how you survived." he said, turning to look at her as they walked.

"The will to survive is an amazing thing. I kept the hatred and the anger so close, it was all I knew for so long. I've been close to death so many times, but there is something inside of me that won't let me rest, this drive to keep going and I think I realized yesterday it was killing Grelod, not only for Myrna but for myself. Killing all of that pain and suffering and torment." She paused. "I felt a release, but then I felt an emptiness where my anger had been. It was all consuming, I could barely breathe but then, then I saw you…" she trailed off. "I don't know how to feel."

"I don't think you have to know how to feel." He said. "I think right now, you just need to rest and recover. You look like you could sleep for weeks and eat 15 buckets of my world famous stew." He grinned. She chuckled aloud.

"Yes," she said, stifling a yawn, "I could sleep some more."

"Take my bed, I'll join Asbjorn in the cellar."

Though she protested, he would hear none of it. He wished her good night at the door of his bedroom and gently shut the door behind him as he left her. She sunk into the mattress and fell into a deep sleep, filled with dreams that were not filled with terror and anxiety, but were surprisingly normal for her.

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For the next couple of weeks, their lives were very simple. The girl continued to sleep a large portion of day, trying to recover from a fatigue deep within her bones. She would make a daily trip to Myrna's grave. Sometimes Balimund would join her, but usually he was kept busy at the forge with orders from the Keep and for the war effort. In the evenings, they would take supper together, sitting by the fire and talking for hours - catching the other up on the past. The routine stayed largely the same when Asbjorn returned from his work in Winterhold, only changing when her vitality returned after weeks of rest.

sorry for the extreme delay - hopefully I'll be able to continue on at a better pace!

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