At My Feet-an Oblivion Fanfic Options

[Elisabeth Hollow]

SubRosa, you picked up on all the things I was puttin' down, good job! XD

ghastley-Samara doesn't heal. All of her magicks are geared towards keeping her so unseen that she'll never be noticed.

She's a very good thief, and a little conceited about her abilities. She's a good shot with a bow and arrow, but not great.

KoB-She's the Champion I figured that was obvious.


Thanks, everyone!


-----



The next few days were excruciating for Samara. The priest at the temple had to set her wrist and splint it. She was out of commission until her wrist was better. In her spare time, which was a lot now that she couldn't pick locks or pockets, she read up on the history of Springheel Jak. She found nothing definitive except for myths, legends, and heresay. She was disappointed that there wasn't more information on her favorite thief, but there was a lot of speculation.

Another week passed before she saw Jakben Imbel. She heard a knock on her door just after dusk and opened it, shifting her sling on her shoulder to a more comfortable position. When she opened it, she let out a shriek.

"You tried to rape me! I'm calling the-"

She let out a squeal as the hands of the brown-haired man from the Talos District clamped down on her mouth. He pushed her inside, his face expressionless.

"Hush, I'm not here to hurt you. It's me, Jakben."

Samara shook her head behind his hand and bit it. He frowned slightly, and her eyes widened at his lack of reaction.

"I've fallen from heights that would have liquefied the insides of most people, had a sword pierce my chest, and been starved for months. You think a small bite from the dull teeth of a human child is going to harm me? Now, I'm going to let go, and you're not going to scream. understand?"

She nodded, and took a deep breath when he let go. "You're Jakben?! You know you tried to rape me, right?!"

"Yes, I know. I was there. And I wasn't trying to rape you. If I wanted you, I would have had you in a moment."

"So what? Were you gonna eat me or something?"

Jakben's face was unreadable, and Samara's gut dropped.

"You rich people are [censored] weird. Just [censored] weird. Get out of my house, I don't want you here!"

Jakben held an amulet up, the two dragons glinting in the firelight. "You deserve an explanation."

"You're damn right I do!"

Jakben chuckled and sat on a rickety wooden chair. He frowned and wiggled his rear. It gave an audible crack, and he was up as it crumbled beneath his weight.

"Your chairs are very uncomfortable and do not properly support weight."

"Welcome to being poor. You owe me a new damn chair." She sat on the bed instead of the remaining chair. Jakben put his hands behind his back and stood in front of her, looking down.

"Sit on the bed...dad." Samara put as much venom into the last word as possible.

"I'll stand. Your mattress is made of...straw?" He looked disgusted as he eyed the bits of straw sticking from the mattress. He absently scratched his neck and returned his arm behind his back.

"Again, poor. You'd cry at what I have to eat."

He looked around. "I don't see anything."

"That's because I haven't gone to the inns and dug from their garbage yet."

He looked horrified for a split second, then regained his composure. "I'll send you a new chair."

Samara let out an amused breath through her nose, a smirk on her lips. "Yeah you are. So what's so important about this amulet that you broke my damn wrist over it?"

"It was your mother's." He looked at the amulet with tenderness, handling it gently. He traced the dragons with his thumb, a look of utter sadness on his face. Samara was silent. The room suddenly seemed tight, like a lung empty of air. The warmth of the fire was stifling. She didn't want to be in the room, alone, with this man, with a look on his face that made her want to weep.

"Why?" The word sprung from her lips unexpectedly. "Give me away, that is. Why didn't you two keep me?"

"She died. You were a miracle. Elves only have one or two children in their lifetime-"

"I'm part elf?" Samara looked at her hands in disbelief. "Wood elf?"

"High Elf," he corrected. "Altmer. That's the proper term. She was always insistent that I never used the slang. She had miscarried before, earlier in our marriage. She'd always wanted a large family, and I had the house for it. We planned on adopting what she couldn't birth. And then she died." He gripped the amulet in his right hand. Samara grew more uncomfortable.

"It wasn't my fault." She said quietly.

"No, you misunderstand. It wasn't at all. She gave birth to you, easily, and even nursed you the first night of your life. The next night, I went out. And when I returned, she was dead. There was a sword through her chest and a knife at your throat. I killed the attacker and took you to the orphanage. I couldn't care for a child on my own."

The air thinned as Samara's rage surfaced. She jumped up and shoved him, his immobility enraging her more.

"That's it?! She died, and you ABANDONED ME? How dare you! I NEEDED you!"

"You're better off."

"Better off? BETTER OFF?" All of Samara's rage was channeled into a single punch to Jakben's stomach. He wheezed and doubled over.

"Gods, child!" he gasped.

"You think living in this dump makes me better off? You think living off of other people's scraps is better off? You just broke my chair by sitting on it, and you think I'm better off? I have to steal from others in order to make sure I survive!"

Tears ran down her face, and her words were punctuated with sobs. "Get out. I don't want anything from you. You're stupid, and I'm not your daughter!" She threw a stone cup at him with her left hand, wildly missing it, and shattering it against the floor. Jakben had straightened up, and looked regretful.

"I'm sorry to have bothered you." He said before he closed the door behind him.

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Dec 26 2013, 02:19 AM

[ghastley]

Wait a minute. Her mother's an Altmer, but she's shorter than the Nord Alda? Is that the paternal influence of her Breton father coming through a bit?

It also leaves me wondering how old she is. If she was unaware of her elven ancestry, I'd assume she's quite young, and isn't yet watching her non-elf friends age past her. Her mother could have been as old as Jakben, of course.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Though Jakben is a vampire, he was also human. That was a deciding factor for me in her age. She's twenty, but DOES look younger. She ages slower, but does age. She's physically mature, mentally mature, as if she was human. She got a lot of her father's genes and traits, the stealing, her eye color, her height, but she also got some of her mother's.

The age thing is tricky for me sometimes, so if it seems weird and off, let me know.

[ghastley]

I've always assumed (based heavily on the Barenziah story) that elves grow at the same rate as humans (like a weed - according to the "Real" version) until they're twenty-something, but then slow considerably. Barenziah was pregnant before 3E38 when Tiber Septim died, and I'd imagine it was around 3E15 or so (she'd be 18 then). Morgiah was born in 3E384 - more than three hundred and fifty years later - so she aged very slowly over that period. But in Morrowind, she's shown as old and grey, suggesting the aging process speeds up again at the end. So Samara's probably at the cusp of levelling off.

Jakben and wife would both have been ageless, but for different reasons. Makes them a good "odd couple"!

What about her ears? If she's surprised she's an elf, they can't be too long and pointy.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

They're not even remotely elven, the only hint of her being anything besides Breton is her height.

[Colonel Mustard]

Really enjoyed this chapter; the dialogue between Samara and Jakben was great, and highlighting the differences between Samara's life and the much more privileged, rich lifestyle that Jakben lead. What was very interesting to me, however, was this line:

All of Samara's rage was channeled into a single punch to Jakben's stomach. He wheezed and doubled over.

Which I intriguing when we've got Jakben boasting:

I've fallen from heights that would have liquified the insides of most people, had a sword pierce my chest, and been starved for months.

With that in mind, you'd think that a punch from 'a mere human child' would barely ruffle his feathers. And, of course, just later:

She threw a stone cup at him with her left hand, wildly missing it, and shattering it against the floor.

A stone cup would be pretty tough, don't you think?

Even though it's revealed that she's part Altmer, I suspect that Samara's still a good deal more than what she seems.

[King Of Beasts]

"That's it?! She died, and you ABANDONED ME? How dare you! I NEEDED you!"

She's got a point. Her anger is very understandable, poor girl

"Better off? BETTER OFF?" All of Samara's rage was channeled into a single punch to Jakben's stomach. He wheezed and doubled over.

"Gods, child!" he gasped.

Lol. I'm agreeing with mustard, with all that boasting of his you'd think he'd be able to take a blow




-patiently waits for next chapter-


Wait...since Alda is off saving the emperor, is she gonna come back to see Samara?

[Rohirrim]

Wait up...Springheel Jak...Jakben....

Did Samara's momma get empress'd?

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Wait up...Springheel Jak...Jakben....

Did Samara's momma get empress'd?

Well she wasn't "impressed" at first! -slaps knee-

This post has been edited by Elisabeth Hollow: Nov 28 2013, 11:15 PM

[SubRosa]

Ouch, Jak not only broke her wrist, but put Samara out of business.

Hah! He broke her chair!

"That's because I haven't gone to the inns and dug from their garbage yet."
Just like Teresa.

So now we - and Samara - know why she became an orphan. Given that Jakben is a vampire, I do believe that she was better off without him for a father. I am also not surprised that someone would murder her mother, given who she was married to. A vampire doubtlessly makes plenty of enemies. Of course Samara's outrage over being abandoned is completely normal, and understandable.




nits:
You rich people are [censored] weird. Just [censored] weird.
That does not look like the forum swear filter, unless they changed it recently. I suggest you use invented words from the game, like fetching or bounding, or create your own. I personally love Yiddish for words such as dreck and fakakta.


"I'll send you a new chair."
Samara let out an amused breath through her nose, a smirk on her lips. "Yeah you are.
This part left me scratching my head. It makes me wonder if the "Yeah you are." was in response to something else Jakben said about himself, that got taken out in an edit? Or maybe you should change it to "Yeah, you will."

Samara is a human and her mother was a high elf? If you want to change the way things work that is no problem with me. I do it all the time! But the 'standard' rule in the TES games is that children are always the same race as their mother, no matter what the race of their father is. They might inherit some secondary traits from their father, like skin tone or eye color, but that is the extent of it. Again, I am not harping. If you want to ditch that it is fine. It is your story after all. You have the right to make it yours.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Samara's a street urchin. Being grammatically correct isn't on her list of things that are important to her. Some things she'll say will make us cringe as writers and editors, but it's her voice. If you listen to people speak, they're usually not grammatically correct either. They believe they are, but we speak in snippets, slang and run our words together. I try to convey this as often as possible without seeming lazy in my writing. So if you see something that seems slightly off, but you still understand what I'm saying, it was most likely intentional. There will be stuff I miss in the editing process, but the "Yeah, you are." wasn't one of them.

As for the swear filter, I DID do that myself. I'm still looking for my own 'swear" words without taking from other stories. I'm trying to not be TOO much of a copycat (good luck, right? Fanfiction and all that [censored].) But when I swear on here, it does change it to the word "censored" with brackets.

The elf thing, there's a system when I do genetic traits. Not to mention in my other story, Kayla was so obviously elven in appearance, and I didn't want it to seem like I was recycling from my last story, even though they're connected.

[Grits]

Neat intro with the quest to steal the diary.

"Samara! Open up! I don't have my key with me!"

Lol. And we know the best thief didn’t win!

Ooo, a main quest story? Maybe from the sidelines since Alda got to chase the Emperor? Yay!

Oh wait, if Samara is the daughter of the Earl of Imbel, she’ll have different issues to deal with.

"That's because I haven't gone to the inns and dug from their garbage yet."

Yuck. It’s tough to be a thief with a broken wrist!

[Elisabeth Hollow]

Thanks for your comments, everyone :]

@ Grits: Yeah, Alda is not cut out to be a thief. She wanted it more, though.




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




Samara sat on her cold floor for an hour, staring at her birth certificate. Her tears had stopped long before she got up. Her achy legs groaned in protest as the static in her legs dissipated slightly at the movement. She wasn't going to take this sitting down. Or sober. Right as she reached for a bottle of wine, a knock startled her, making her let out an involuntary gasp.

'He's back for more,' she thought angrily. 'That bastard is gonna die.' She flung the door open, her mouth poised to deliver an angry retort that never came. A timid-looking Breton girl with large green eyes and white-blonde hair blinked up at her. She looked even more frightened when she saw Samara's face.

"I, uhm, I'm here to look at your arm."

Samara frowned. "I can't afford a healer. Go away." She slammed the door in the girl's face. She sat down and yanked the cork off the bottle and guzzled half its contents before hearing another timid knock. She threw the door open again to see the same girl.

"I've already been paid. If I don't heal you, I'll have to give the money back."

"Who paid for you?"

"I don't know. Some rich-looking man came into the temple and demanded the most skilled healer. They pushed me forward, and he paid me a lot of money. More than the standard amount for a healing. That makes me worry. What's wrong wit your arm?" Her timid look was replaced by one of concern, and she reached for Samara's arm. Samara rolled her eyes and let the girl undress her arm after taking out out of the splint.

"It's broken. Someone broke into my house and broke my wrist when I tried to get them to leave. Come inside."

The healer looked up at Samara as she walked in. She was a small thing, a whole head shorter than Samara, who was unusually tall for a Breton, but not as tall as a Nord. If it weren't for her keeping her blonde locks in a messy bun, Samara would've thought her a Bosmer.

"I hate to ask, but it's necessary. Did the thief, uh..." She hesitated for a moment. Samara raised her brow.

"Did he take something from you besides, uh, worldly possessions?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, uh, did he touch you, and you did not like it?"

"Are you asking if he raped me?"

The healer turned red. "Yes, I'm so sorry! I just graduated from the University and I'm not really trained in asking these sorts of questions!"

"You better learn. Wait, JUST graduated? How old are you?!"

"Twenty-seven."

"You're older than me!"

"Bretons age well. I still look young, don't I? How old did you think I was?"

"Not twenty-seven! Maybe sixteen?"

The healer laughed. "No!" She stuck out her right hand. "I'm Blanche deLion. And you are?"

Samara awkwardly shook Blanche's hand with her left hand, earning an embarrassed look from the healer.

"Samara Sage. So, is this going to hurt?"

"A little. Just sit on the bed. You'll feel itching, aching, twinges, stabs, and shooting pains, but that's a part of the healing process. I feel it's best to hold a conversation whilst healing. Helps distract you." She inspected Samara's bruised and swollen arm, frowning.

"Take a deep breath, and let it out slowly." Blanche instructed, and when Samara obeyed, a stabbing pain made her flinch when she exhaled. Blanche's warm hand gently held her elbow.

"I know. Tell me about yourself. Did you grow up here?"

Samara winced. "Yeah. Grew up in the orphanage."

"You don't say. Did you like it?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I had sticky fingers."

Blanche shot Samara an amused look. "I see. I suppose that's how you ended up on the Waterfront?"

Samara shot her a hard look. "Not everyone here is a thief, you know."

Blanche looked up and saw the angry look on Samara's face. "I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean-"

"No, you did mean. But I don't blame you. I'm sure everyone thinks that. How many people on the Waterfront went to your University?"

"Uhhh..."

"Thought so. Did you ever wonder why?"

"Lack of skill, I'd assume."

"How much did your tuition cost you?" Samara asked coolly.

Blanche shrugged. "My mother paid for it. And when she passed, I inherited her business and her savings."

"So you don't even know?"

Blanche shook her head. Samara gave her a wry smile.

"Let's just say I wasn't able to pay the tuition that was in the thousands. So they told me I had to go to each Guild hall in Cyrodiil, pass a test, and receive recommendations. Me. Even though my skills lie in Illusion and Destruction, they wanted me to travel everywhere, with no money for a carriage, no money to buy spells, no money for lessons, nothing." She scoffed. "You rich people have everything handed to you."

Blanche turned a little red in the face, but said nothing. The edges of her small pink lips turned white as she pursed them angrily. Samara remained oblivious and stared at her arm. The bruising was lightening up, and she sighed.

"I thought you said this was going to hurt?"

"Usually it does. Usually they start crying right about now."

"I have a high pain tolerance, I guess." She sighed. "Look, I didn't mean to get mad at you. It's not your fault you're rich. I'm sorry about your mom, too."

"Don't be. She was a horrid woman." Blanche smiled up at her, the gesture just barely reaching her eyes. The flash of sadness wasn't lost on Samara, who looked away. She wanted to say something comforting, but all that came out was, "So you're a healer, huh?"

Blanche gave her an amused look and snorted. "Nah. I'm part of the Fighter's Guild as a porter. I just do this in secret. The Guilds get jealous of each other."

Samara laughed. "I'm really not as stupid as that question made me sound."

Blanche laughed. "I hope not. That would be a bit sad." She pulled her hands away and wiped her brow. Samara noticed for the first time that there was perspiration on her face.

"Do you need some water?" She asked. Blanche shook her head.

"No, I'll be fine. It's just more difficult to heal bones than it is to heal flesh wounds. I won't be ale to heal all of it tonight. I can come back in the morning and check on it."

"How much is left?"

Blanche held Samara's arm tenderly in her hands, turning her wrist gently over. "See that right there?" She pointed to a swollen lump on the pulse of her wrist. "There's a small hairline fracture right there. I'm going to give you a potion that will heal the rest of it. Go ahead and let it air out for a few hours, then wrap it up again." She yawned, covering her mouth with a petite hand.

"Oh, excuse me! I better get back to my house. I've got to get up early." She stood up and smiled down at Samara. "It was nice meeting you. I'm sorry if I offended you."

"You're fine. You sure you want to head out now? It's awfully late."

Blanche looked around, her lips pursed in disdain. "I'm sure."

"If you're drunk, it's not so bad." Samara shook the bottle, a playful grin on her face. Blanche shook her head.

"I'd much rather take my chances outside. Besides, I have to be at the Temple in the morning with a clear head. I appreciate the offer, though." She gave Samara a quick nod before closing the door behind her. Samara sighed and set the bottle down and re-corked it.

"So much for company." She mumbled.

[King Of Beasts]

"You rich people have everything handed to you."

Sadly, that's not too far from the truth

I just graduated from the University and I'm not really trained in asking these sorts of questions!"

She's one of the best healers in the temple and she just graduated? Smart girl I'm assuming.

"So much for company." She mumbled.

Poor Samara could really use some company right now too, huh?

[SubRosa]

They pushed me forward,
This sounds like the army, where someone calls for a volunteer, and everyone else takes one step back. While the pay was good. I am sure a lot of people were not eager to make a housecall to the worst neighborhood in Cyrodiil.

That was a nice little interlude between Samara and the new healer on the block. I loved how you emphasized the class differences between the two women (and not cleric vs. thief ). I also loved the little zinger that the timid Blanche threw back about being a FG porter.

"If you're drunk, it's not so bad."
Yep, there is that.


nits
Her achy legs groaned in protest as the static in her legs dissipated slightly at the movement.
You have a repetition of the word legs in the same sentence.

Samara rolled her eyes and let the girl undress her arm after taking out out of the splint.
Samara has been outed twice in one sentence. I am sure you meant for the first time to be an it.

I'm Blanche deLion
I am thinking you missed a space between de and Lion, as in de Lion.

[Elisabeth Hollow]

KoB: Yeah, since Alda left, she's been pretty lonely.

SubRosa: Yeah, no one really wanted to head to the yucky waterfront, lol.

Thanks, you two!



---




Samara jumped when Blanche slammed a book down near her head. The redhead wobbled in her seat as she tried to keep herself from falling backwards in her seat. When she regained her balance without falling over, Blanche smiled.

"I knew you wouldn't fall. You're like a cat." She slid into the seat next to Samara and opened her book. She pointed without looking at the passage.

"Read this."

Samara leaned over. "I gasped softly as he caressed my inner thigh- Blanche, what in the hells?!"

Blanche turned red as she yanked the book back. "Wrong book! Stop laughing!"

Samara's arm had quickly healed, much to Blanche's surprise. The morning after, she examined the taller woman's arm and exclaimed, "Gods, you've got amazing regenerating ability!" Followed by, "I'd love to do some tests." Followed by Samara yanking her arm away and scolding the smaller Breton for thinking of such things.

In spite of Blanche's hasty exit the night before, their friendship blossomed quickly. Samara would make a trip to the Temple nearly every day, squinting against the sun she rarely saw before. Blanche was generous with her wealth, especially towards Samara. Despite Jakben sending Samara replacement chairs and a new table, a soft bed with new spreading and ccovers, Samara spent more time in Blanche's house in the safety of the city.

The older blonde Breton pulled out the correct book, shooting a scathing glance at the still-giggling redhead. She found the passage she had meant to show Samara and pointed.

"I can't read." Samara said.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Blanche began to read aloud, then shot Samara another dirty look.

"Fine, I'll read." She cleared her throat. "'Welkynd stones are known to harness the power of magicka, though the supply is limited. They offer magicka regeneration without the aid of potions.' Doesn't that sound amazing?"

Samara nodded, looking at her fingernails. "Absolutely."

"I mean, that means no potion sickness!"

"Yep."

"I suck the marrow out of corpses."

"What?" Samara looked confused.

"What?" Blanche kept an innocent look on her face. Samara lightly slapped Blanche's arm and clucked her tongue.

"I'm sorry, I'm just bored." Samara sighed. She looked at Blanche and frowned.

"What's that look for?"

"We should get some Welkynd stones."

"What for?"

"Because! All I would have to do is absord the stone's power, and I wouldn't get sick."

"Yeah, but you'd be carrying a bunch of rocks around instead of a bunch of potions."

"You're completely missing the point."

"I think you're missing MY point."

"So you won't help me?"

"Help you what?"

Blanche let out a groan of irritation as Samara laughed.

------

"Tell me the plan again, Samara."

Around mid-day they reached the old ruins of Hrotanda Vale, just above Chorrol. It had taken Blanche nearly a week to prepare, going over scrolls, prepping spells, and buying Samara armor. The trip to Chorrol had taken them a day by carriage, and another day to for Blanche to mentally prepare herself. Samara had held her hair several times as she vomited.

"We go in, I grab the stones beause I'm the thief, and you sit back and watch because mages are lazy."

"Those weren't my words, but yes, that's the plan."Blanche grumbled. "You'd think a Breton and Altmer mix would appreciate the arcane a bit more."

"Nope." Samara snorted. She shot a cheesy smile at Blanche. "You're too tense, Blanche. Things will be fine."

"No, several things could go wrong. The ruin could cave in, it could be infested with bandits or worse, vampires!"

Samara sighed as Blanche continued to tick off disasters.

"You could break your leg, I could break MY leg, the floor could-MMPH!"

"Shutup." Samara said as she put her hand over Blanche's mouth. Blanche flailed and pinched the spot under Samara's arm, making her screech.

"OW!" She was held back by a large, dark green hand. The Orsimer easily separated the two young women, holding each by the collar of their shirts or robes.

"I'm supposed to be muscle, not a babysitter!" The tusked Orc grumbled. "Play nice!" He set them gently down on the ground, an arm's length apart.

"I go in, I clear the place, and little miss nimble here scurries up and grabs the stones."

"I'm glad you hired this ray of sunshine." Samara told Blanche. "I'm sticking to the shadows."

"Darling, the whole place is gonna be a shadow, unless there's bandits inside." The orc said, his words dripping with something Samara couldn't identify. "The mage can stick by me. And when we're getting back to Skingrad, I'm hiring a couple of funts to spend my time with."

Blanche looked alarmed. "Treat them well. Just because you're paying them doesn't mean they're not people too."

Shakh the Orc snorted. "Yeah, yeah. You sound like my mother."

"Your mother approves of prostitutes?"

"My mother approves of everything because she's dead. Can we get inside already? You're making me want to kill things."

"Ugh." Blanche shook her head. "Petit cul."

[King Of Beasts]

Yay, she got a knee friend

Samara leaned over. "I gasped softly as he caressed my inner thigh- Blanche, what in the hells?!"

Blanche worries too much, everything is gonna be fiiiine

[Colonel Mustard]

Yay, Samara made a friend!

I enjoyed the way you showed the friendship between the two developing, and the idea of welkynd stones recharging magicka while negating 'potion sickness' was a nice touch of worldbuilding. The little scuffle at the beginning of the dungeon dive made me laugh as well.

There was one thing that didn't make sense to me, though; Samara is able to read the passage from the romance novel, but then she says later that she can't read and has Blanche read the bit about the welkynd stones. Have I just got something mixed up or is one of the side-effects of potion sickness temporary illiteracy?

[Elisabeth Hollow]

She's picking on Blanche. She can read fine.

[Colonel Mustard]

She's picking on Blanche. She can read fine.

Ah, gotcha.

You're being mean, Samara. Quit being mean