No Elves in Sovngarde, I've decided to to turn my "A day in Skyrim" adventure i Options

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Hey y'all! The "Today in Skyrim" thing made mee remember how MUCH I love writing, and how much better it is to not just write shutff and hide it. So the first post is going to be the old "chapters" combined along with the new one I just wrote. Feedback welcome, but remember, no one has seen anything I've written in over 8 years, lol

[Elisabeth Hollow]

I'm going nuts writing this. The last time I wrote this much was 8 years ago. This is an awesome outlet for me, lol.

Anyways, I posted one chapter on fanfiction dot net, and got screamed at for not putting a space after the ellipses...still not doing it! XD

Enjoy!


CHAPTER FOUR: Different Type of Predator

"You're back in one piece? That's good...what is that?" Danica glanced peevishly at the sapling. "You brought me a stick instead of sap?!"


"No, Danica, look, listen. That traveler? Maurice Jondrell. He follows the voice of Kynareth, and he made the sapling grow by praying to Kynareth."


"But we need the sap!"


"Maurice said, and I quote," I intoned my impression of Maurice in a dry voice "'You fool, you madwoman, do not strike the tree, Kynareth will avenge it, I have another way.' Then he prayed to Kynareth and after a moment this sapling," I held it up to her, "Sprung from the ground. It was amazing!"


Danica took the sapling, and held it gently. "Who am I to argue with a god?" she murmured, and said "Alright, this will work. It will replace the tree outside. I'll have the jarl's men remove the tree outside and I will plant this one. You have my thanks, Kayla." And with that I suppose I was dismissed.


I went back to the house and greeted Onmund. He gave me the usual kiss and "Hello dear" but something seemed off.


"Onmund, what's wrong?"


Onmund sighed. "Honestly? I just feel...like a trophy husband."


I stared at him incredulously for a moment before laughing. He looked startled, then hurt. "I am not a bad looking man," he said defensively. I waved my arms and shook my head and said "No! Love! That's not what I'm-" I cleared my throat and regained my composure. "I just...okay, explain."


"Well," he began reluctantly, "You go off, earning more money then my measly store ever could, I hear all of these wonderful adventures you have, and what do I do? I am a househusband."


"And what's wrong with that?"


"I am getting fat."


"It's a cold place, you need to be burly!"


"No. you don't understand. I am a Nord man, with Nord man needs."


I rolled my eyes. "I suppose I DON'T understand. What is the difference between a Nord man's needs and a Breton man's needs?"


"I crave adventure, excitement! Exploring somewhere I've never been." He sat me down on a chair and knelt in front of me. "Remember when you got my family's amulet back? How I was too afraid to approach Enthir after he told me no once? I don't want to be like that anymore. I want to take what is mine back!"


I have to admit, he surprised me. I had never seen this side of Onmund before, and it was...odd. I fell for him because he wasn't the typical Nord male. He didn't mind that I was a "weak elf," nor that I loved magic. He didn't mind, or I thought he didn't mind, staying safe while I made the world better for him.


"Onmund..." Could I tell him this? SHOULD I tell him this? He looked at me expectantly. Oh gods. "Well, if this is how you really feel, then would you like to accompany me to Morthal my next journey out?"


His eyes widened in excitement. "Yes!" he exclaimed, hugging me tight.


"Alright, we need to make sure- gurk, stop squeezing me!" He let go, his grin never leaving his face. "We'll need four different types of potions, not unlike when you came to Riften with me, then here to Whiterun. Health potion, stamina potion, magicka potion-"


"And mead!"


"...and cure disease..."


"Oh."


I rolled my eyes.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


Onmund hopped off the carriage and stretched his legs. I had insisted on no stops unless it was to relieve ourselves, and the carriage driver got an extra 50 septims for obliging.


"You're not the most paranoid passenger I've had on here, trust me," he quipped. We had reached Morthal a little after dusk, and had a guard direct us to the inn. I tried to not usher Onmund inside too fast, to not have him think I was more paranoid than I actually was. He wanted to explore the town a bit, but I feigned exhaustion and suggested a pint of mead before bed. He obliged, and we walked, side by side, into the Moorside Inn.


"This place is dead," Onmund remarked. It really was. There was an orc bard(torturer?!) singing a shameful rendition of "Ragnar the Red," the bartender, and a lone woman to our right.


"Not nearly as dead as it could be," the woman said, her voice sultry and silky. She stood up and looked Onmund up and down, then licked her lips. "What's your name, handsome?" Onmund blushed. The woman was wearing tavern clothing, revealing her ample bosoms and wide hips. Her lips were a shade of red rarely found naturally, skin the typical Nord pale, and eyes wide and innocent. I saw right through her.


"My HUSBAND'S name is Onmund, and I'm Kayla." I took a step forward. Onmund put his hand on my arm in assurance that he was alright. I backed off.


"I'm going to go check with the bartender to see if there are any bounties out." I turned on my heel smoothly, my jealousy making me seethe. I gripped the edge of the bar with my hands and said through clenched teeth, "Who. Is. That?"


The bartender glanced up past me and raised her eyebrows. "You're one brave woman, leaving your man over there with the likes of Alva. She's got all the men in this town wrapped around her finger, just about."
I blinked, and replied "I can see why, dressed like that." The bartender laughed, and said "Name's Joanna." We clasped wrists. "I'm Kayla," I replied, feeling a tad better. "I came here looking to help anyone who needs it. Especially if it includes slaying the town wench." We both laughed hard at that, and Joanna said "Well, it just so happens that the jarl needs someone to investigate the death of Hroggar's wife and child."


"Oh? What happened?"


"House fire, it looks like. Hroggar blamed it on his wife spilling bear fat onto the hearth, but we all know he was shacking up with Alva. Could be motive."


I turned my head and watched Alva and Onmund over my shoulder. Alva laughed at whatever joke he threw out and rubbed his forearm lightly. Her smile never left her face, not even when she was pouting at some unknown request he had declined. Onmund looked like he was enjoying himself thoroughly. I didn't know whether to order a room and slink in there alone or shove a fireball in her mouth. That would take away at least one service she offered to the men.


"Can I have a room? I'll go to the jarl in the morning and see if my help is needed." Joanna nodded and I handed the septims over. I ordered two mugs of mead and headed over to the table. I sat down and handed one of the mugs to Onmund, but Alva slid that one over to herself and said in a mock disapproving voice, "Now where is your poor husband's mead, elf? Did you forget about him already?"


Onmund looks at me expectantly. Incredulous, I said "Well, you rudely took his, but if you're going to throw a tantrum, here." I slid my tankard of mead over to Onmund, sloshing half the contents onto the table.


"Relax, elf, it was just a joke!"


"Yeah, Kayla, she was only kidding, what's up with you?"


I stood up. "I'm tired, and have work to do in the morning. Onmund, I got us a room right over there. Can we go to bed now?"


Alva pouted and leaned closer to Onmund. "But I've only just met him! You're going to take away from me so soon?" Onmund said "No dear, she isn't." He looked up at me, and said "I'll be there in an hour or so. You kept me locked up in the house for so long, I need some socialization besides the little brats that run around wild at home." And with that he turned his back on me. I looked to Joanna for help, but she kept her eyes on her sweeping. I went to the room and began to cry.


He called her dear.


I'M his dear.


Why did he use his pet name he uses for me?


Maybe every attractive woman is dear? No, he never called Brelyna dear, nor Lydia, who is even a Nord.
Is Onmund so unhappy with his life, with me, that he has to guilt me into taking him on an adventure so he can sleaze it up with some two-septim wench away from home? This doesn't make any sense. I asked Hulda if Onmund ever cheated on me in front of her while at the Bannered Mare, and she said no, not even when Uthgerd the Unbroken decided to take her armor off when Mikael did his "Dance of Seduction" on the drums. I was told Onmund walked home alone and Mikael claimed Uthgerd that evening. Or maybe she claimed him? I shouldn't be commenting on the sex lives of people I don't know.


This reminded me of the time I got curious and snuck into Haelga's room at the Bunkhouse in Riften. I sorely regret that mistake.


I decided to take my armor off and go to bed. If Onmund wanted to make friends, who was I to stand in the way? He is a faithful man. I trust him.


I dreamed of about fifty ways to make Alva suffer for making me look like a jealous cow until morning came, and I opened my eyes. I turned over to greet Onmund, but his side of the bed was cold, untouched. Rage, then fear came, and I dressed hurriedly. When I walked to the bar, sans armor, Joanna handed me a note.


"Kayla,

Alva and I talked all night, she is a wonderful and interesting woman. I have gone to explore the town and see the sights.

Onmund"


"That's...that's it?" I asked Joanna.


"I'm sorry, lass, but that's all. If it's any consolation, Alva went home just before sunrise and invited him over, but he declined. He said he needs to to get out of the house, not spend the day inside another one." She shook her head. "They did get pretty close last night, though. The usual flirting with Alva..." She trailed off when she saw my hurt expression. "Morthal ain't no place for a househusband. There are different predators inside the town limits then outside them. Alva will eat your man alive in a worse way than any bear or sabrecat could. At least then, they're dead. When a woman woos your man out from under you, the victim is you, and not him."


I crumpled the note. "I'm not a victim. I'm going to go find my husband."