The Nord and the Four-Eared Khajiit, About 20 years after Martin's death, as crimes are spreading, a No Options

[sford564]

Okay, I already posted this on fanfiction.net, but I've revised it a little now. Soooo... here it is. It starts out a little dark and gets lighter as it goes.


Chapter 1: Fulfilling a Promise

The Nord made his way through the forest toward the traveling entertainers’ carts. There were all sorts of low lives of every race in this little gathering. Some of the scum wanted to see the bear baiting or to bet on the pit fights. Others wanted to buy slaves. Others still came to have sex with or buy some of the kidnapped girls the travelers had with them.

Sure, slavery was illegal, but it didn’t matter as long as you didn’t get caught. After Emperor Martin’s sacrifice, everyone’s attention was focused on cleaning their world up again from the Oblivion scum and rebuilding it again. Then, when things began to settle down, the talk of the new emperor exploded into several skirmishes, until most citizens didn’t care who ruled, as long as the deaths stopped. Now that the new High Chancellor took over rule, things were peaceful again for the moment. Alas, though, with all the strife that had taken place, the High Chancellor didn’t have enough time or man power to take care of every problem across the land, which meant that slavers began to rise up here and there in various parts of the world.


The Nord shivered a little and pulled the cloak further over his head so that no one could see him as he rode up to the camp. He had promised the dying Khajiit that he’d find her daughter, but he never expected to find her in a place like this. Still, though, he didn’t have as hard a time finding her as he had expected. It seemed that the sight of the four-eared half breed Khajiit made a lot of stir in every town she was brought to.

As soon as he entered the camp, he was surrounded by a group of dangerous looking men. “I’m looking for a Khajiit half-breed. Four ears,” he informed them.

“We have nothing like that here,” one of the men told him, not liking the looks of the Nord.

“Ahhh, so you’re the one asking around, are you?” another asked.

“What do you want, stranger?”

“I want to buy her,” the Nord answered.

“She’s not for sale!”

“She will be,” the Nord assured, slipping off his horse next to them. The vagabonds backed away a little, as the Nord towered over most of them. “Take me to her,” he demanded. No one moved.

The Nord slipped off his hood, and everyone backed away even more, horrified. There was no real face on the Nord; instead, there were two black eyes and two ears in a mass of scarred and torn flesh. He looked inhuman enough to be one of the Oblivion spawns he had hunted many years ago.

“Now,” the Nord growled. The group instantly spilt away from him and one vagabond, too scared to disobey, made his way through camp – nearly running to get away from the Nord – to where the Four-eared Khajiit was locked.

There was a small group of laughing, jeering people in front of the cage. They didn’t even notice as the Nord walked behind them.

This post has been edited by sford564: Sep 5 2010, 07:12 AM

[sford564]

@ All: Thanks for the comments - I tried really hard to make her have as much feline behavior as I could. Also, I tried really hard to show her trust in him slowly build. I'm glad it's working.

Chapter 13: Monsters in Cloaks

The odd couple traveled on for several more days and nights; all the while the land got colder and colder. Along the way they came across a couple settlements. Though the Nord rushed them through, not letting them stay a night at the inn, he did buy her a few things – odd trinkets that caught her attention. He also bought more food and allowed her to eat and drink at the local tavern, as she cried and moaned about being hungry and cold.

Just as they did in the first town they went into, the Nord covered his face with the cloak’s hood, and he instructed that Mara do the same and that she not take it off her.

At one settlement they went to the local tavern, ordered a hot meal and were in the middle of eating it when a group of guards ran into the pub, declaring, “We’re looking for a Khajiit. She was seen stealing from one of the local shops.” The Nord clasped his hand down on Mara’s leg, questioningly. She looked up at him, shaking her head.

“Has anyone seen – you there, strangers!” He stopped and pointed to the only two cloaked figures. “Who are you? Take off those cloaks so I can see your faces! Do as I say! Now!”

The Nord obeyed. A gasp rose from everyone in the room, and several other patrons moved to seats further away from the odd couple.

Mara was shocked. She looked from the Nord to the other faces in the room and then back at the Nord. What was he thinking? Was he angry? Offended? Was he going to beat them up because of their insolence?

She slowly dropped the cloak off her face, and again a hiss rang through the little room.

“What the hell is that?” one of the Guards asked no one in particular.

Mara clung to the Nord’s arm. She knew what looks of shock and fright meant. It meant food and rocks thrown at you. It meant more gasps and murmurs of hate and fear. It meant being laughed at and hurt.

She hated these people. All of them. They were all alike. She just wished they’d all go away. She wished they’d all die.

Her lip started to curl up, revealing sharp Khajiit teeth underneath. Then she hissed, her face distorting into pure hate.

The guards reached for their swords as the Nord put his arm in front of her, whispering, “Mara, stop.”

Mara did not listen, though, as her fearful eyes watched the guards’ fingers grip around their sword hilts and all the bar patrons behind her began to move together. She hissed even louder, threatening them to stop. She growled and hissed some more, her ears back against her head, the fur on her tail standing up, and her body tensed, ready to run, jump, or attack.

“Mara! Now!” the Nord commanded, his deep voice booming through the whole building. Mara obeyed this time. She straightened out and stopped glaring, though her ears didn’t rise. “We’ll tell you if we come across any suspicious looking Khajiit. In the meantime, though, my companion and I are eating.” He sat down now, pulling on Mara’s arm for her to do so. She slipped into the seat next to him, still eyeing everyone suspiciously.

As the Nord picked up his spoon and began sipping at his hot soup, over half the pub filtered out. Even the guards reluctantly left, telling the owner to call for them if any incidents happened. The rest of the room glared disgustedly and fearfully at the couple.

Mara couldn’t eat like this. She couldn’t stand to be watched like this. When they were cloaked – when no one saw them, they treated them well. Was she really a monster? And the Nord? Was he? Yes, he was scary sometimes, but he was good and nice. How could anyone hate him?

She just gazed down at the table in front of her. Soon someone would do something to hurt her. She knew it. She could feel the scorn-filled eyes glare at her; she wanted to run from them or to hurt them, but her master told her to sit, so she had to sit.

Then suddenly she felt it. Someone threw a bowl across the back of her head with such force that it broke apart. The Khajiit cried out, grabbing the back of her head with both hands and sobbing in pain.

The Nord spun around in his seat, making the culprit, a Breton, cringe a little, but he boldly and drunkenly declared, “Freaks. Get out of here.”

The Nord ignored this and instead brought the crying Khajiit into his arms, glaring threateningly at the other man all the while. “Shhh, shh, it’s okay Mara,” he whispered to her. “It’s okay. Maybe we should just leave here, okay?”

Sniffling, Mara nodded her head in agreement. The odd pair turned to leave when something else was thrown at them. It was another bowl again, but this one was full of steaming hot soup and it landed in the middle of the Nord’s back.

The Nord cried out as the hot broth burnt his flesh. Mara spun around. The Nord was the one who saved her. He was the one who protected her. And now, when they were doing as the scum wanted them to do, they dared to hurt her master?

Hissing and growling, her tail growing thicker than the Nord had ever seen it, she leapt across the room before he even had a chance to grab her back. Jumping across a full table and set of chairs, the Khajiit landed on the Breton, the force of her jump knocking him to the ground, and with a mighty rage began to beat his head into the floor.

The attack was too sudden for him to retaliate, he was too scared to know what to do, and everyone around him had fled, so it seemed like nothing could save him from the Khajiit’s anger.

The Nord, however, came and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the fallen man. She struggled and struggled, hissing and growling, but she could not break free from his grasp.

After several moments of struggling, she finally began to settle down. “Relax,” he whispered. “Calm down. I know he hurt you. I know. I know he hurt me. But beating him – no matter how much I want to – isn’t going to help. Relax. Relax. Breathe normal. Now talk to me, Mara. Talk to me. I told you to always talk to me when you’re scared or hurt. Talk to me.”

Mara’s anger slowly subsided, and as the Nord gently whispered to her, her anger turned to frustration and her frustration to tears. Turning around in his arms, she wrapped around his neck and burst into tears.

“Men hurt master.”

“I know,” he soothed.

“Men hurt Mara,” she continued.

“I know,” he told her once again, but his voice was lace with anger as he glared down at the panting man in front of him.

“Men always hurt Mara,” she continued. “Poor Four Ears. Four Ears beat and hit. Spit on. Laughed at. Thrown things at. Everyone hates Mara. Mara monster.”

The Nord squeezed her tighter in his arms, gently rubbing his hand over the back of her head and kissing near the massive bump that was forming from the broken bowl.

“Here,” he told her, taking a small amount of coins from the pouch on his belt. “I need you to pay the pub keeper while I see if he’s all right,” he told her, referring to the man she had beaten.

Mara took the coins and slowly rose. She was not only hurt, but now also betrayed by her master. How could he be more concerned for that monster than for her?

Mara slowly walked up to the front of the bar where the cowering the pub keeper hid under the counter, and she dropped the coins on the countertop.

The moment the Khajiit turned her back to them, the Nord grabbed the Breton by the throat and lifted him off the ground. His large hand nearly engulfed the other’s entire neck, and he squeezed so hard that the other’s face began to turn purple.

“If you ever touch her again, I’ll tear your throat out with my bare hands,” he growled.

The Breton was dropped to the ground, and the Nord was by Mara’s side just as she turned to see what he was doing.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

The ride out of town was filled with strange stares and fear-filled gasps. Mara, riding on the back of the big warhorse, her ears resting atop her head and her head fallen, and the Nord walking beside her, pretended they didn’t even notice anyone else.