2019-12-13

Always Lost, Always Hopeful (104) Help Us Forget



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SPOILER INFO
This fanfic novel is largely based on the events that occurred in an actual game of Skyrim I played. Therefore, it's inevitably a spoiler.
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previous day






4-201-11-29 06:17
Varlais Manor, Varlais, Whiterun, Skyrim



They have a shower room here where you can stand in a small basin and water is flowing onto your head from above.

After I've satisfied my curiosity walking around in the more and less luxurious rooms in the castle, I go out to check out the little village next to it.

There are several houses, in one of which lives the blacksmith, a formidable man Endrion with his almost as substantial wife Ranalyne, both High Elves. The large cortyard has, apart from beautiful trees and plants, several market stalls with five traders, three of them Khajiits.

I don't have much time to marvel at the sight of them, though, as Pelin Varlais himself has come out to greet me.

Now comes a part that is extremely difficult for me to write about. I actually hesitated long whether or not to reveal it to you at all. Eventually I realized I'm supposed to give you a picture as truthful as possible about everything, no matter how painful it may be.

This is what happens: the first thing Pelin Varlais says to me is "You're not going to wear that, are you?"

I'm in the habit of wearing a garment known as Cicero's Clothes  when inside settlements, because they have a magical effect that makes prices 20% better, and the lack of armor matters little when there are guards all around me. I know the garment doesn't look too stylish, but I've always preferred functionality over looks. Yet, that remark by Pelin... I can't even begin to describe what kind of a shock it was. I mean, the vulgar obscene insults I've had to hear a few times in the past were bad all right, but there it was obvious that the speakers intended to offend me. But when a person who (as I assume) likes me sees me and his spontaneous reaction is like "you're not serious about wearing THAT", it permeates every cell of my body like acid. I have never imagined that mere words can hurt so much you want to die just to not have to have heard them. I mean, yes, I can imagine even more horrible things one can say to a woman (like criticize her breasts when she strips naked for you the first time), but that's just imagining. This here was real, and it destroyed me to the ground. I would accept another whipping by Bastaard's tentacle monsters if it could erase Pelin's words from my memory.

I don't care if Pelin is pathologically insensitive or he has the perversest sense of humor in the world. After a devastating humiliation like that, there's only one thing I can possibly do. I follow him into the castle and kill him where no one is seeing us. Yes, you heard me right. I murdered Pelin Varlais. I'm fully aware that it's very wrong to kill someone who trusts you so completely that he lets you walk around everywhere in his castle unaccompanied, but I can't take so unspeakable an affront lying down.

Now we have to get out of here before anyone notices their master is dead, because there's no doubt they'll know whom to suspect. And I shall never wear Cicero's Clothes again. I'll sell it as soon as I find a trader who can afford it. Screw the profit. I can't have people look at me and think "Gods, she's actually wearing that!"

Enough of this. This darkest page in my biography is in the past now. It's never to be mentioned again.


We run east-northeast towards Hviterun. In spite of the lovely weather, I feel very gloomy. Things have been going terribly wrong for me recently. First the disappointment with Wilaar's quest, then the trouble with Lorm, and now this. I'm so happy to find a Khajiit caravan between the southeastern suburb and the city walls. I feel so peaceful here, immersed in positive energy. Couldn't I just become a caravan guard and travel around with the Khajiits and forget all about those stupid dragons and the war?

With a not insignificant effort, I tear myself loose from those adorable people and walk along the path between the fortifications to the main gate. The guards as well as the townspeople seem to be on the edge because of everything that's been going on in Skyrim. My stepdaughter Lucia is not at home. Apparently she's working with her friend Mila. I visit the priestess Danica in the temple, just to spend some time around someone impeccably good and decent. Then I go to the marketplace where I meet the children and chat a little with Carlotta, Ysolda and Fralia.

I allow Lucia and Mila to accompany me while I walk around. Apart from shopping, I also go to the palace in order to greet my former followers and the wizard Farengar.
Dragonsreach visible through the branches of Gildergreen, blue sky, sunny weather
Hviterun is so beautiful I can't help taking pictures on every step.  :-)

Irileth has returned from her long absence I've-no-idea-where. I'm surprised by her friendliness towards me. Maybe she's just being civil in front of the children.

I ask Farengar where she has been. He replies it's a secret.  :-(

Leaving the palace, I finally make the acquaintance of the chief of the city guards, Caius:
in front of the main entrance of Dragonsreach, Commander Caius tells the protagonist that everything is fine
Oh, that's kind of you.

I go to Jorrvaskr next to hire Mikki as my follower.

I now tell Lucia and Mila to go back to work. I promise them I'll drop by before I leave the city, but right now I'm facing an extremely unpleasant conversation.

Lucia and Mila leave somewhat disappointedly, but it can't be helped. I most certainly don't want them around while I tell Lorm I'm letting him go, and that's what I'm about to do now.

I can imagine you might find it confusing, and indeed I'm highly confused about my current feelings myself.

I don't mind when a man... you know, takes me. Possesses me. Uses my body for his pleasure. That is as long as it's a man whom I can completely trust. And I don't feel complete trust in Lorm. He has given me enormous thrills, but I feel our relationship is proceeding faster than I'm comfortable with. I can't tell him that, because I'm unable to clearly express what it is I'm uncomfortable with. Lydia says men won't understand this no matter how clearly you say it. They have no concept of the build-up of... I don't know, familiarity, sense of normalness... that thing we women need. It's something that doesn't exist in their world.

I mean, if I were a slave, then of course I would have to put up with everything my master chose to do with me, and I would try to please him as well as I could, simply in order to get punished as rarely as possible. I would suppress my own requirements, because I would have no other choice. But with Lorm I do have a choice. And when I have a choice, I won't obey a man just because he thinks I have to. He has to thoroughly impress me with his might and Lorm hasn't done anything like that.

I pay brief visits to the inn and to the alchemy shop, to balance my thoughts or get myself together or something like that.
[series of 2 pictures you can click through; click on the first picture to make it big, then click again to see the next picture etc.; press  Esc to return to the text]


Now I feel strong enough to break the news to Lorm. He'll be dismissed and not even be accommodated in the Hviterun palace. After all, he's got a house in Aurora.

I see him and step up to him. I tell him I adore him as a man, but I can't have him as a follower, because it creates a confusion of roles. Part of me even believes it. I promise Lorm I'll be visiting him from time to time and I'm looking forward to being with him in the privacy of the bedroom.

I'm rather taken aback when Lorm refuses to leave me and swears he's sorry and he'll obey my orders to the letter from now on. When I turn my back to walk away, he keeps following me and giving me all those insistive annoying lines men utter when they get dumped by a woman they're head over heels with. I know how cruel it sounds when I talk so casually about the feelings of a man hopelessly in love, but what can I do? I can't have an undisciplined follower, and for that matter I don't even feel attracted to him anymore, now that he has shown himself emotional and needy. The only thing I can do is to tell Lorm to get out of my sight and that I'll kill him if I have to. When I share it with Lydia later, she agrees that I had to tear our bond. There was no way to do it gently.

I decide to make use of my status as a thane of Whiterun. I send word to the city guards that they are to chase Lorm away, should they ever see him in or near the city, unless he's accompanying someone as a bodyguard. A man in his situation can be huge trouble, that's why. I can't prevent him from earning a living, but otherwise he has no business traveling all the way to Hviterun.

I hope I've not annoyed you too much with all this emotional stuff. I'm finished with that now, I promise.

I equip Mikki with proper gear. Then I go with her to the palace and tell the steward Proventus that she is now my follower. This means, my being a thane, that should I dimiss her someday, she can live in the palace, should she prefer it over her previous home in Jorrvaskr. As a return service, she'll help the city guards when necessary, just like all my other ex-followers.

And this is the jarl's daughter:
Dragonsreach, near the main exit, jarl's little daughter talks haughtily to the protagonist
[Laughter.] Your Highness deigns to be cute.

After I've hugged Lucia goodbye and made sure she has enough money, me and my followers go to the eastern suburb for final shopping. Then we head for Rimerock Burrow that is very far from here, west of Solitud. Instead of taking the road, we bypass Hviterun alongside the northern wall. I just want to take a look. I've never been there.

We run west, with the city wall to our left and a drop of a few meters to our right. Soon we notice a bandit camp ahead and below. The bandits see us too and start running towards a nearby ascent, shouting. Whether it's rage or aroused anticipation is hard to tell, but it sounds uncivil enough, so we shoot them dead. We descend and examine their small lair that has a campfire and a locked chest and a horsecart nearby.

The arrival of several more bandits takes us completely by surprise, but we succeed in killing them without much difficulty as well.

Our destination is far to our northwest. As we don't have all that much daylight left, the question arises where we should spend the night. The nearest settlements are Morthal and Dunstad Grove. The former is a little off our route and the latter is a bit inconvenient to get to across mountains. I wish we could reach Dragonbridge tonight, but that's doubtful. Roriksted to our west is, in turn, too far off the direction we're going, and the way from Roriksted to Haafingar is not very easy either. So we'll aim for Dragonbridge after all.

We run across low grassy hills in the general direction of the Dånstar–Dragonbridge highway. The weather is really nice.

We pass by a camp of giants and then see what looks like a bandit stronghold. I decide to leave it alone for the time being. I've hurt too many people recently and we've no time to waste anyway. By the way, Mikki is an excellent runner. She's, most surprisingly, the only one who can keep up with me.

We reach a road north. We're still far even from Morthal, let alone Dragonbridge.

dusk falling, two elks in grassy hilly landscape, some spruces ahead, mountains in the distance
There are incredibly many elks in this region.

The road leads to a complex of low stone constructions where we are attacked by a couple of skeletons, and then a couple more undead. Strangely enough, the road ends here. To our north lie impenetrable mountains which, of course, we could bypass from the east, but it's getting dark, so I decide we'd better spend the night in Roriksted to our west after all. The terrain ought to be easy even in darkness.

Running across almost flat grassland with rocky hills here and there, we meet more elks, as well as run past a bandit lair somewhere in the darkness, ignoring their excited shouts.


The peaceful village of Roriksted with an odd guard sauntering along the moon-lit main street fills me with happiness. My boyfriend Erik is at the inn as I had hoped. I cut his greeting short and almost drag him into one of the rooms. Before that skeleton place, I wasn't really aware of the need inside me, but while approaching Roriksted I've been able to think of nothing else.

Erik puts me on all fours and... er... aims a little too high. I say no and he sticks it where it belongs. Actually, I wouldn't mind trying anal sex with him, but it feels unseemly to agree to it so soon. After all, this is only our second time.

This time, the act itself is, shall we say, average for me, but I'm immensely happy cuddling up with Erik afterwards and exchanging our news. I really needed this kind of familiar and threatless masculine energy around me. The only disappointment is when Erik goes back to his own room to sleep. He says he has to work early and my inn bed is too small anyway. Why didn't we then do it in his room in the first place, I wonder. Too late for that now.



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