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]

Fate has brought us together again, but first...

@ mALX - A heartfelt welcome back mALX! I think I can speak for all when I say you were missed. I'm glad you enjoyed the Interlude as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you very much for your kind comments on it and the chapters that followed.

I remember that wolf attack, scared the crap out of me! -- Me too!

@ Acadian - Val is indeed looking forward to that mead. I chuckled a moment when "cuteness" was preceded with "dare I say". Thank you kind sir!

@ jack cloudy - Were you never a prankster as a kid?

Though I personally like Hadvar's version just a bit better. It must be because he's accused of being drunk. kinda ironic what with Hod hogging the mead and all. -- Oddly enough, I have never chosen the Hadvar side when I've played the game. I guess I'm too much of a rebel at heart.

@ Grits - Welcome back!

The wolf-gut treasure was another great touch. In our house we call that… well, it’s a rude name that includes the only place a wolf might carry a garnet. Yeah, “ear” garnets. -- "ear" garnets!

@ SubRosa - I got two words...Jarl Ballin'! OMG, I was dying when I watched that! And you are correct...nothing is going to happen until the mead starts flowing.

*****

Thanks to all of you for your continued comments and compliments. As always, they mean a lot to me. Let's drink some mead!

Previously - Valrimor and Ralof had finally made it to Riverwood, where they were extended the hospitality of Ralof’s sister, Gerdur…

Chapter 8 – Mead and Morning Muzziness

17th Last Seed, 4E201 - Continued

The house of Ralof’s brother-in-law was austere, giving no overt hint of either wealth or poverty. It was an L-shaped single story building with no interior walls at all. The space looked much larger than it really was due to the high steep rafters. A dining and cooking area occupied one end. There was a cook pot suspended from a spit that spanned a bed of glowing coals. Ralof went to it straight away and stirred its contents. At the other end of the house were beds and a sitting table. But what caught my attention immediately was a bar, just like one you might see in a tavern, near the back wall. Several bottles, of what I could only assume to be the mead that had been spoken of, beckoned to me from its surface.

“Where is Gerdur keeping the bowls these days, Hod?” Ralof asked.

“In the cupboard there, right side door,” he replied, and then said, “Get some of that rabbit stew. You look like you could use it.”

It took a moment of silence before I realized Hod was speaking to me. I tore my gaze from the bar and said that some stew sounded good. He was motioning for me to sit at the table, and joined me as I did so. Ralof brought over three steaming bowls, and then centered a plate of bread and cheese on the table. All of us began eating heartily. It was some of the best stew I had ever tasted. There were chunks of potato, carrots, leeks, and tomato suspended in thick gravy with large pieces of rabbit. Just the right amount of garlic gave it a little heat.

“Oh my Gods,” Hod said suddenly, and stood up. He went to the cupboard and grabbed three flagons. A small thirsty grin crept to my face, and then vanished just as quickly when he picked up a water pitcher and returned. He filled all of our mugs, apologizing for not remembering drinks as he sat back down. I thanked him and took a sip of water with feigned enjoyment. We ate the rest of our meal in silence. Gerdur entered just as we were finishing up with cleaning the dishes.

“It’s good to see that you men knew where to find the wash pot,” she jibed. Ralof looked at me and winked as she continued, “Now get out of my kitchen and let me finish. Hod, get some mead for my brother and his friend.”

“That sounds wonderful!” I said with a touch too much exuberance, and then finished with a toned down, “Thank you.”

The three of us went over to the bar. Hod stood behind it while Ralof and I pulled up stools and sat. Our bartender set out three ornate steins and dutifully filled each with mead. He handed me an empty bottle and said, “I bet you’ve never had mead like this before.”

I held the bottle in one hand and raised my stein with the other for a taste. It was small, compared to a wine bottle, and it barely filled my stein. The label proclaimed it to be “Honningbrew Mead” in Nordic style script, with a stylized beehive pictured below the writing. The mead rolled over my tongue and I closed my eyes. It was sweeter than what I was used to, but it was damn tasty! By the time I opened my eyes, the stein was half empty. I stopped abruptly when I noticed Hod and Ralof staring at me.

“Did you not get enough water?” Hod asked, and started moving as if he were going for the pitcher.

“Plenty,” I said, reaching out to stop him, “I was just caught off guard by the quality of this mead. It goes down so easy.”

“Aye,” Ralof chimed in, giving me a knowing glance that undoubtedly had to do with wine consumption in the caves beneath Helgen.

The mead went down smoothly indeed. Gerdur had long since retired for the night when Hod stood staring at the bar, dumbfounded. A little over a dozen empty mead bottles littered its surface. I was responsible for at least half of them.

“Wass da matter, broder-in-law?” Ralof asked with slurred curiosity.

“Dares no more mead,” he replied matter-of-factly. Then he shrugged and turned to me as he raised his stein to quaff the last of his mead, “So tree-hugger, what brings you to-”

I reached out and grabbed the arm that was raising his stein, squeezing his wrist hard while I hissed through clenched teeth, “Bosmer. It’s Bosmer, if you please. I’ll thank you to remember that from now on.”

I could feel an inner heat beginning to build along my forearms. Panic replaced my anger, and I quickly released my grip. When I did, I shoved Hod’s arm hard enough to cause him to drop his stein. It crashed to the floor, spilling the last of its contents. The two men were staring at me. Hod looked offended, angrily frowning and clenching his fists. Ralof stood and turned to Hod, swaying slightly as he did so, and put a hand on his shoulder. I didn’t know if it was to calm his brother-in-law or to keep from falling over.

“Don’t mind Varlimor…Vemralor…damn…Val, Hod. He’s,” -hic- “had a rufffff day,” my friend stuttered and slurred in my defense.

“Yeah…what he said,” I added, then stood up and walked toward a bed.

***

18th Last Seed, 4E 201

My ears started working before my eyes did. I could hear faint sounds grow louder, ever so slowly, when suddenly an excruciating crash jangled every nerve in my body. My eyes snapped open and I sat up. My sight found Hod picking up a broken plate on the other side of the room, at the same time a rush of pain clawed into my head.

“Ugh,” I moaned as I grabbed my head and glanced around.

Someone must have put me in bed. They could have at least taken my boots off…

“Hey Ralof, look who joined the living,” Hod said, giving me a stern scowl.

Ralof poked his head around the corner and said, “Good afternoon, Val.”

Afternoon?

I looked up at the high windows. The light was coming in at a very steep angle, so if it was afternoon, it was not much past midday. The smell of bacon and eggs still hung in the air from breakfast, causing my stomach to roll over. I swung my feet to the floor and grabbed my head again to crush another flare of pain. I picked up the backpack and checked its contents. My wealth was not impressive. There was some rabbit that needed cooking soon, some bread and apples. A couple healing potions, two wine bottles, one of which was not for consumption. Lastly, a leather pouch with a little more than sixty Septims. I rose and shuffled to the dining area. A large plate that was still about half full with cold food sat in the center of the table. I sat down and placed my head in the palms of my hand, fighting off another thudding wave of headache.

“Good stuff, that Honningbrew, eh?” Ralof said with a grin.

“Why is Hod looking at me like I killed his dog?” I asked.

“We’ll worry about that later. Have a bite, then go over to the inn and order an herbal tea. Best cure for muzziness.”

I did as he suggested, eating cold bacon and eggs as my gurgling stomach protested. When I had downed as much as I dared, I rose and headed out, squinting hard as the daylight assaulted my eyes. It took a second for my eyesight to adjust, and for me to get my bearings.

Side road to main road. Inn. That way.

The entrance to the inn was raised above the road level, probably to accommodate a basement for storage. A wooden porch lined the front of the building. There was a bench on it and steps beckoning to the road. I walked up and sat down heavily on the bench. I had some thinking to do.

Okay Val, let’s take stock. You have a little food, and even less money. Gerdur wants you to go to see a Jarl. Ralof wants you to join a rebellion. A dragon wants to incinerate you for no good reason at all! And for toppers, you may have made an enemy of your hostess’s husband. All in all, it’s not one of your better days. Oh yes, and this wonderful headache. You need a plan. You know what happens when you have none.

I needed to clear my head before I could make a plan. I got up and entered The Sleeping Giant Inn.