A Question of Fate Options

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Brief Intro By The Author

A Question of Fate would be the title of my piece.

I have been back and forth about trying to start and post a fan fic piece. The idea has always intrigued me, but I never considered myself to be a writer, let alone a good writer. I have read a sampling of some of the works that are posted on this site, and quite frankly, it is intimidating. The material is amazing. I must say say that despite the intimidation, it is also inspiring. So I am willing to throw caution to the wind and go for it. There are a few provisos. I work for a living. Often times, the hours I work are long. There may be periods of dormancy in this thread. I will apologize in advance for that. Life outside the internet does have it's restrictions. Also, I am sure that there is an unspoken etiquette that states, "You read mine and comment, and I shall do the same". This is also where I could run into trouble, for the same reasons that there may be dormant periods in this thread. There are stories on this site that I could never hope to read all the way through, with triple digit page counts, while I try to keep posting my own story and work through everyday life. So, with all that being said, I will wait to start posting chapters until I get a sense of what the audience demands. Please let me know if I should start posting a fan fic piece, based on what you have just read.

Thanks.

EDIT - This was originally posted in "General Discussion"

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 4 2013, 04:41 AM

[ThatSkyrimGuy]

Thanks for following the story and for the great comments.

@ Grits - I could never figure out why loot would be lying next to an imprisoned skeleton, so I had to try for something plausable. Thanks for the comment.

@ Acadian - I will be adding a "What has come before..." sentence or two before each new installment. But I really want to thank you for the punctuation advice. I found some very helpful information. At some point, I'll go back and fix everything to date, but future posts should be correct. You help has been invaluable...thanks again.

@ mALX - Thanks and I am glad you have enjoyed this rendition of the tutorial. I hope that future installments can measure up. Thanks again for your very kind words.

@ SubRosa - I considered using the Command Animal ability, but knowing that it was the last enemy they would face, Val would have had to kill it eventually anyway when the spell wore off. In game, I find that I rarely use that ability. Perhaps I should more often. Thanks!

Author's Note - From time to time, I will be posting interludes to provide backstory information. They will be in 3rd person format instead of narrated by Val. Please note the dates on these for reference. Actually, this is why I started putting dates on all of the previous posts, and on future ones as well. This next post is one of those interludes. I do hope you all enjoy it.

Interlude 1

4th First Seed, 4E149

Erik sat staring at his flagon of ale. It was his fifth one and the effects were on the verge of causing two flagons to appear where there should be only one. His friend Jonsin was chatting up a particularly attractive she-elf. She was likely Bosmer, based on her size and skin tone. Jon was doing everything he could to convince the elf to come up to the room that he and Erik had rented for the night, while she seemed to be trying to milk him for every possible drink that the inn had to offer. At the moment, her goal was a shot of Cyrodiilic brandy. Jon obliged, and then asked Erik if he wanted one too. Erik declined and took another swig of ale, thinking Jon should really slow down. He had put down twice as many beverages as Erik, and they both had to leave early in the morning. The journey to Bruma would be long enough without a dose of muzziness to make it miserable as well.

The bard that The Merchant’s Inn had hired for this evening’s entertainment left much to be desired. He was playing a lute that was sorely in need of tuning. The crowd did not care. In fact, based on the empty kettle that was supposed to hold tips from the patrons, the crowd didn’t even know he was there. They were too busy gambling or fighting or drinking themselves blind. Imperial City, and the entire Empire for that matter, had changed since the end of the Septim line. It was as if all reason had left mankind and merkind alike. Lawlessness ran rampant in the streets and taverns. The Imperial Legion was spread thin, preparing for a possible attack from the Aldmeri. The City Guards, if one could call them that with a straight face, were second rate soldiers that were corrupt much more often than not. They would turn a blind eye toward thievery and thuggery, as long as you had the coin to buy them.

“Put me down!” said a female voice.

Erik looked up and saw that Jon was carrying the she-elf over his shoulder. She was beating on his back and kicking her legs. He couldn’t tell if her protests were real or feigned from where he sat. So Erik just rolled his eyes and ordered another brew, since it was likely that he should stay away from the room for a while. The bard finished his tune, thanking an audience that failed to acknowledge his existence. He picked up a drum and started tamping out an erratic beat that had no timing at all. Someone in the crowd yelled for him to stop playing, but the bard ignored it and kept trying to find a beat. That was when a very large man walked over to the would-be entertainer, picked up his lute, and smashed it across the back of the bard’s head. The poor fellow collapsed like a bundle of rags. This action elicited an immense brawl at that end of the bar. Erik chose to leave rather than get caught up in this miniature riot. He rose and went upstairs.

When Erik approached the door to their room, he could hear muffled yelling. Occasionally, the words “stop it” and “no” were mixed in. He entered to find Jon on top of the she-elf; having his way with her while she struggled to get out from under him and tried to scream through the palm of his hand. Her eyes were wide with terror, and it was painfully obvious that she was not a willing participant.

“What in the Gods names are you doing, Jon?” Erik yelled.

Jonsin looked over his shoulder with a sweaty grin and said, “You should have come up with me. Now you’ll have to wait your turn.”

Horrified and enraged at the same time, Erik grabbed his friend and violently pulled him off of the elf. Jonsin lost his balance and toppled backward when he tried to stand with his pants around his ankles. His head hit the corner of a dresser on his way down and he did not move at all after that. A pool of blood began forming behind his head.

Erik turned his attention to the elf. She was trying to cover herself with the torn remnants of her dress, her breath coming in short, sharp sobs. He walked toward her to help, but she recoiled.

“Get away from me!” she rasped, with a look that conveyed fear, anger, and shame at the same time.

“I just want to help you. I think Jon is dead. We have to get out of here. I don’t have enough money to bribe a City Guard.”

She looked at Jonsin’s body, then back at Erik. She seemed to be weighing her options. Then her eyes went wide again.

“Stendarr help me! The guards might think I am a…a…a brothel girl! They might even think I killed him!” she exclaimed.

Erik opened the dresser. He grabbed a shirt and some pants and tossed them to the elf.
“Get dressed, quickly,” he said, “You can come with me. We’ll get out of here and I’ll help you get somewhere safe. What’s your name?”

“My name is Ellinar.”

* * *

2nd Evening Star, 4E149

Erik looked forward to every visit. Elli had adjusted well to living in Bruma, given the circumstances of her arrival, and her condition. She always had a warm embrace for him when he arrived. If only he could tell her how much his heart sang when she squeezed him that way. He always brought her a bouquet of wildflowers just so he could see that beautiful smile of hers. And of course, he always brought her enough money to live on until his next visit. But this visit was special. During this visit, he would stay with her until her child was born.

Evening Star was a bitterly cold month in Bruma. The journey into the Jeralls was particularly difficult this time, due to the unusual amount of snow this year. The trip out would be equally as difficult, but he would not be leaving as quickly as normal. Perhaps the passes will have thawed out some by the time he left. Snow was beginning to fall again as he prepared to knock on the door to Elli’s house. Suddenly, he heard a scream from inside. Without hesitating, he dropped his customary bouquet while drawing his sword and rushed inside.

Elli was lying on the bed, covered with sweat and clenching the bed sheets in her fists. Her head and back were propped up by several pillows. Her knees were elevated, and there was a woman sitting on a stool at the end of the bed.

“One more push should do it Elli. You’re doing fine,” the woman said.

Elli gave that final push, trying to sit up and forcing another howl through gritted teeth. She hadn’t even noticed that Erik was standing there. He sheathed his sword and held his breath, watching and waiting for the new life to emerge. The wait was short and he heard a tiny cough before the baby began crying. The woman at the end of the bed smiled broadly and exclaimed, “It’s a boy!”

Later that evening, Erik and Elli sat together on the bed. She held the sleeping baby in her arms, swaddled in a wool blanket. Erik was convinced that she had never been more beautiful. Elli caught him staring at her and blushed, then smiled and said, “What?”

“It’s just amazing. I think motherhood becomes you. You are positively glowing,” he replied, returning her smile. “Do you have a name picked out for him?”

She sighed, looking off into an unknown distant place. It was often customary for a first born son to have some derivation of his father’s name. Erik realized that this thought caused Elli pain, and he suddenly wished that he hadn’t asked the question. Then she turned and gave Erik a very serious look.

“Where was…he…from?” she asked.

“Um…Skyrim. Riften, I think,” Erik replied.

She stared off into space again, then blinked and said, “I am going to name him Valrimor, for Valenwood and Skyrim. That is the only acknowledgement I shall give his father, may he rot in Oblivion.”

Erik put his arm around Elli and said, “I think you have done your son justice with that name. It certainly gives more respect to his father than the man deserves.”

Elli turned to Erik and looked up into his eyes, their noses almost touching. She seemed to look deep into Erik’s soul.

“I want you to be his father,” she said, and kissed him.

* * *

22nd Sun’s Dawn, 4E152

Valrimor was sitting on the floor, stacking some small blocks of wood. Elli was watching Erik load a backpack with supplies.

“Must you go? You could stay, you know. Hanreid is looking for help over at Hammer and Axe,” said Elli, pleading her case.

“You know I must go. Working as a bodyguard, I can bring home three times what I could hope to earn in a month as a blacksmith’s apprentice. I will be back in three weeks,” Erik replied.

Valrimor pulled himself up at the corner of the bed and stood on wobbly legs, looking at the two of them. His grey eyes and starkly blond hair gave testimony to his Nordic blood, and at the same time, contradicted his swept back and pointed ears. Suddenly, he said, “Da-da.”

“See?” Elli said, “Val wants you to stay too,” and then she gave that smile that always melted Erik’s heart and batted her eyelashes.

“My love, please don’t make this harder than it need be.”

Erik bent over and picked Valrimor up. He gave the child a hug and kissed him on the cheek.

“You take care of your mother until I get back, little one,” Erik told the boy. Then he placed the child on the bed, hugged and kissed his wife, and promised to return in three weeks.

EDIT - Fixed a math mistake. Fixed a nit.

This post has been edited by ThatSkyrimGuy: May 23 2013, 10:52 PM