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

[sford564]

Chapter 7: Baths

After washing his hair and scrubbing himself down, the Nord glanced back to see what the Four-eared Khajiit was doing. She hadn’t even begun to wash; in fact, she hadn’t even slipped out of her clothes yet. Her bar of soap had sunk to the bottom of the creak, and her cloth was floating beside her in the water.

Completely oblivious to the fact that he was there, the half-breed played in the water. Amazed at the visual perception of something half way through water, she splashed around trying to grab at her feet and tail.

She was apparently having great fun, splashing and laughing all the while. She chased her own tail; she created ripples with her fingertips; she caused large waves to cover her tail; and she dived under to find pebbles.

All the while the Nord watched her, mesmerized, completely forgetting that he stood naked in the stream and that soon the others would be awake.

A little fish swam by and bit the Four-eared Khajiit’s tail. The Khajiit cried out and lifted her tail to see what was clinging onto it. She was horrified at first, but when the little thing fell off, she bounded after it to catch it.

The Nord burst into laughter. Looking up, the Khajiit suddenly remembered why they were both in the water. Quickly wrapping her arms across her chest, her ears flattening across her head, she hissed at the Nord.

He laughed a little. “You have to take those off in order to bathe,” he reminded her. The Four-eared Khajiit looked down and realized that she was still clothed. Slowly, and somewhat embarrassed, she dropped her arms to her side.

“I’m going to go dry off and get dressed,” he told her. “No looking!” The Four-eared Khajiit stared at him, horrified and offended. The idea was so outrageous that she never even thought of it!

“I said don’t look,” the Nord laughed. “Now stop playing around in there and get cleaned up. You need to help me make breakfast.”

The Khajiit watched him move from the water, still afraid that he might try to hurt her, until he reached shore, when she quickly turned her eyes.

She didn’t notice the big smirk forming on the side of his lips.

She slowly slipped her clothes off, nervously glancing up at him every half a second or so to make sure that he was where he was supposed to be and that he wasn’t watching her. Every time she glanced up at him, though, he was either completely or half naked, doing exactly what he said he was going to do: drying off and getting dressed.

After a couple moments of fearfully glancing up and quickly looking down, she realized she had to find her cloth, which had been drifting down the stream, and the soap, which fell to the bottom of the water.

The Nord was completely forgotten about as she began to rinse the hardened blood off her pale flesh and out of the thick fur of her tail. In fact, it was only after she had completely bathed, and had finished chasing after fish and playing with her bar of soap – trying to get it to float like the cloth, and watching mesmerized as it sunk to the bottom of the stream again and again – that she remembered the Nord again. And that was just because when she looked up at the bank of the stream, he was completely gone.

Panicked, she looked around to make sure he wasn’t sneaking up on her.

He wasn’t. He wasn’t in the water. He wasn’t in the forest, and he wasn’t on the bank. Had he drowned? Had he abandoned her? Would she be forced to rely on the mercy of the other slaves? What would they do to her?

Wading through the water to where she last saw him, all the while scanning the bank and the forest edge, she searched unsuccessfully to find the Nord.

“Master?” she whispered.

This post has been edited by sford564: Sep 12 2010, 02:25 AM

[haute ecole rider]

I've waited to comment until I had a good feel for this story.

That said, let me say that you had me at "Fulfilling a Promise." This is quite a story, full of characters that are three-dimensional and imperfect - my favorite kind of characters. They are very interesting and full of mystery, just the way I like to meet new characters.

This most recent installment had me smiling at the Khajiit's kitten-like behavior (though most kittens don't like water . . .) as she played with the water and her tail.

I'm interested enough in this to keep reading for more!

[Acadian]

This is. . . lovely! And developing very slowly and nicely.

[mALX]

The baths is my favorite chapter - Four Ears playful antics in the water made my day the first time I read them, they are just as much fun the second read !!! Awesome!!!

[Rachel the Breton]

* stomps foot and wags tail in annoyance *

Well?! I'm waiting...

/Cat-itude

More, please

[sford564]

Thank you, haute ecole rider, I’m glad you enjoy it. Hmm… I think it’s the Bosmer in her that likes the water more than anything. Lol. You know, I actually have one silly cat who won’t drink water unless at least one paw is in it. Lol. Hmm…
Acadian and mALX, thanks for the comments.
Rach, lol, thanks for the comment. “/Cat-itude.” You know I can’t write or edit anything, though, when I’m sick and I have Prince of Persia to watch and to make music videos with! WOOHOO! PoP FTW!! *Ahem* Okay, I'll shut up now....



Chapter 8: For the Love of a Dress


Her voice was soft and hoarse, as if it was very rarely used. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times before the words came again, “Master?” Again she called for him, this time much louder, “Master?”

She made her way to shore, once again searching the stream and forest for him. She ran past the clothes spread across the grass and past the little cart, looking around the nearly empty encampment, her panicked voice weakly calling out, “Master! Master!”

She didn’t have far to look, however, for right by their sleeping area, the Nord had already packed up their sleeping gear, had prepared a meal of eggs and some sort of meat, and was saddling up a horse.

The Nord looked up at the naked Four-eared Khajiit running toward him, calling his name. And he looked down, instantly, covering his face.

“Mara, what are you doing?” he asked, not looking up or uncovering his eyes.

The Khajiit, overjoyed to see that he hadn’t abandoned her, and suddenly embarrassed when she realized that she had no clothes on, stopped dead in her tracks.

“Mara, go get your clothes on. They’re back by the stream – I’ll wait for you here, okay? Now go!”

She stumbled backwards and quickly ran back behind the carts. The Nord let his hand slide away from his eyes as he heard her leave, and he shook his head. That was…embarrassing… He certainly wouldn’t tell her mother about that.

After several moments, the Khajiit came back, very slowly and fearfully, dressed in the dripping wet rags she always wore.

“Mara, you’re in wet clothes,” the Nord observed, reproachfully.

“Sorry,” she answered in a voice so low that he could barely hear her. “… All Four Ears have.”

“But what about the clothes I gave you?” the Nord asked. The Khajiit didn’t answer, but just stood there, not sure what he was talking about.

“Come,” the Nord once more instructed. He led her back to the stream and picked up a dress. “I have pants and a shirt or this dress. Here, feel the material,” he instructed as he held out the skirt part for her feel.

She very cautiously dragged her finger across the dress, awed by the soft, beautiful feel.
“You want it? Here, take it.”

The Khajiit took the dress, rubbing her finger across all the ribbons and lace, silk and satin. She had never felt anything so soft, so first her fingers ran across it, then her whole hand, then she ran it across her arms and tail, and rubbed her whole face in it.

“Umm, you’re supposed to wear it,” the Nord, his brows raised a little, told her.
The Khajiit’s head jumped up at his words, and she hugged the dress against her chest in a defensive manner.

“I’m not trying to take it away from you, but if you don’t wear it, I’m going to… Now, you need to put it on.”

The Khajiit shook her head and took to her heals. She ran alongside the stream a few feet and climbed to the top of a tree. The Nord, tired and annoyed, followed after her.
“Come down here now,” he instructed.

She shook her head again, as she clung tightly to the dress and hissed down at him. This wasn’t a ferocious hiss as she had given him before – her face did not distort into a mix of fear and anger – rather, this was a defiant hiss.

“Don’t make me climb up there and bring you down,” the Nord demanded. When her only response was to ignore him as she continued to rub her face into the softness of the rich fabric, the Nord carried out his threat.

Once again he surprised her. Being such a big man, she thought for sure that he would be slow to rise, but he leapt from branch to branch and was upon her in a second or two.
The little creature panicked. If she jumped down, she could hurt herself. If she jumped into the stream, she’d hurt herself and get the dress wet. He was too close to her to go down any branches without getting caught. She looked around not sure where to go or what to do.

“Come,” the Nord told her, reaching out his hand. “I will not take the dress from you. I’ll even give you another one if you come down with me.”

The Khajiit glanced around, seeing if there was anywhere else she could go. As there wasn't, she slowly reached her hand toward the Nord, the other still clinging to the dress. The Nord carefully brought her closer to his reach, scooped her up in his arms, and brought her down with him.

She jumped out of his arms before they had even reached the bottom of the tree, and she waited several feet away for him.

The Nord was not in a good mood now. He walked over to the pile of clothes and picked up the other dress. “This is also yours,” he told her as he tossed her the bundle of red fabric. She caught it and examined it, even more impressed by it then the other dress.

He grabbed the black shirt and pants, tossing them to her, telling her, “These are all yours. Wear whatever you want, but just get out of those rags and don’t play around with the rest of your clothes.”

The Khajiit nodded slightly and pointed toward the rest of the pile.

“These are skirts. This one has the lace – you always have to wear it when you wear a dress. This other one is if you want more of a poof to your skirt. Some women wear only the lacy one, and others will wear up to a dozen or so of these, depending on what the fashion is.”

The Khajiit pointed to the other two articles of clothing on the ground.

“Those are…you know…. You mean you’ve never had these before?” The Nord picked up the underwear, “You…wear it… You’ve had this before, right?”

The Khajiit shook her head in agreement, but pointed to the bodice piece on the ground. “It’s…you know… a girl’s thing… Kinda like the …thing… you’re wearing now. You wear it.” The Khajiit tilted her head from side to side to look the item. It was peach colored, and covered the upper chest and most of the stomach. She shook her head in disapproval at it, and squeezed her new dress and pretty black shirt close to her.

“No, you have to wear this,” the Nord told her. “It goes with the dress and shirt. You just wear the dress or shirt over it.” Sighing impatiently, he told her, “Look, I don’t know how to explain this. Just put on your underwear and then either one of the dresses or the shirt and the pants. I’ll be by the campfire waiting for you. Hurry up, ‘cause the foods getting cold!”

With that he left, leaving the Four-eared Khajiit to look over the new clothes she had.

It was nearly half an hour later by time she figured out how to wear her new clothes, tried on all three pairs, running and jumping in each to see which would be easier to escape in should the need arise, and finally came to the camp fire to eat.

Her food was cold, of course, but that wasn’t what bothered her. The new clothes felt very restrictive compared to what she had worn before, and the Nord wouldn’t stop looking at her. She didn’t know why he did, but it scared her. She suddenly felt more naked than she did with the shreds of cloth on.

This post has been edited by sford564: Sep 21 2010, 04:30 AM

[sford564]

Chapter 9: A Name for the Khajiit

The Khajiit was obviously hungry, for she finished her meal within seconds. The Nord gave her some stale jerky to chew on, but it was rather hard for her, so she was forced to eat slowly. They ate for several minutes before the Nord broke the silence. “You look very good in that.”

The Khajiit nearly jumped out of her seat. She calmed down when she realized he had only spoken, but she still looked over at him suspiciously.

“You still haven’t thanked me for getting you those clothes or saving your life,” the Nord reminded her.

“…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad to see that you’re finally talking to me, because I have a couple questions to ask you. But first, we have to make some rules. First rule is, you must never try to kill me. Actually, the first rule is, you must never kill me. And the second rule is, you musn’t try to kill me. Do you understand?”

The Khajiit slowly nodded her head in agreement.

“Good. Then, I need you not to run away from me. … Agree to that please.”

After several moments of hesitation, she answered, “Four Ears no run.”

“Good. And then, I want you to stop hissing at me. Agree again, please.”

“Four Ears agree.”

“Good. Now repeat the rules to me.”

It took several moments for her to answer, but she very slowly answered, “No kill. No run –”

“Ah, no trying to kill me either,” he reminded her.

Ducking a little as he responded, expecting him to lash out at her for having missed one of their new rules, she continued, “No hiss?”

“Yes, that’s right. Now Mara, I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to answer me honestly. Please don’t be afraid.” She did not say anything, but only looked over at him with eyes full of fear; so far she wasn’t doing very good with the “don’t be afraid” command of his.

“… I need to know what he did to you that made you kill him,” the Nord slowly began. “Was it because he was selling you to me? Was it because he did that to your poor ears? Or…the thing with the rat?”

She did not answer. The Nord slowly ran his hands through his hair in frustration, “Look, I need to ask you something. I’m going to put it very bluntly, and I need you not to be afraid. And I need you to tell me the truth, okay? I need you to tell me…did he, at any time, umm…touch you…uhh… rape you, and if so, did you ever have any children?”

The response was two big eyes full of fear staring at him. “Look, you have to tell me,” he explained. “If you have a child – his or anyone else’s – we need to go find it. Is it in this camp?” She didn’t answer, so, sighing deeply, he begged, “Please answer me. … Do you have any children?”

The Four-eared Khajiit shook her head no.

“Okay, did he or any of his scum friends hurt you like that…you know, sexually?”

The Four-eared Khajiit shook head no again. “Four Ears is animal. Master only likes Dunmers.”

The Nord breathed a sigh of relief.

“But new Master likes Four Ears?” she asked.

“NO! No! No, no, no. Never. I mean, I like you, but I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. It’s because I like you that I would never do anything to hurt you.”

“Master no hurt Four Ears? No beat Four Ears? No make Four Ears wife?”

“No, no, master won’t do anything like that. In fact, master has a name, you know. Master’s name is Svein Leifegil, but most people call master ‘The Nord’.”

“The Nord? Master wants called The Nord?”

Shaking his head, he agreed, “Yes, you can call me ‘Nord’ if you want. When I was younger, my best friends called me that, so I would like if you would, too.”

After several moments, she asked him, “Master let Four Ears talk?”

“What do you want to say? – And call me Nord.”

“Old Master beat Four Ears if talk. Nord let Four Ears?”

“Mara, I want you to talk. I want you to tell me what you are feeling and thinking. I want you to tell me what you are afraid of and what you want. Do you understand?”

The Khajiit shook her head in agreement. “What is Mara, Mast-Nord?”

“It’s you.”

“No, master. Name Four Ears.”

“Nord,” he corrected again. “Is that what your old master called you? Four Ears?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not your name: your real name is ‘Mara’. Do you want to know how you got that name?” The Four-eared Khajiit shook her head yes. “Your mother named you that, Mara. Do you know anything about your mother?”

She shook her head yes. “She is Two Ears?”

The Nord shook his head in agreement. “Yes, she has two ears. Her name is Jo Dar. You have never seen her before, because they took you from her when you were just born. She wanted to name you ‘Mara’ after her goddess. She always told me she was going to find her little baby girl. She said she’d be able to find you because you had four ears – two human and two Khajiit.”

Tracing his finger across her pointed human ear as she jumped and cringed slightly, he said, “Well, elfish ears. It was a Bosmer who raped your mother. It was he who sold you. He was so horrified to see that you were a deformity that he tried to kill you, but she saved you.” Taking her quivering hands in his, he told her, “Mara, your mother is dying. She begged me to find you. I’m not sure if she’s even still alive, but we need to get back for her to see you. Do you understand?”

[haute ecole rider]

I'm still enjoying this!

one nit:

As there wasn’t, she slowly reached out a hand toward the Nord, as her the still clinging to the dress.

it's a bit confusing. Did you mean As there wasn't, she slowly reached her hand toward the Nord, the other still clinging to the dress.?

I know how it is editing when you're sick, tired or distracted!

I like how you keep the two main characters well-rounded, giving us glimpses of each one's personality, thoughts, emotions and motivations. That's what makes character-driven fiction so much fun to read.

[mALX]

I loved it when Four Ears started talking - not just the original part where she says "Master" - but all of it!! This is one story that never gets old no matter how many times you read it!!! Awesome story !!!

[sford564]

haute ecole rider: Thanks - fixed that one.
Okay... this chapter is a little long...

Chapter 10: Homeward Bound

As soon as everyone woke up and ate, the Nord had them gather all the gold and treasures they could find and he split the wealth among them all, Mara included. He split the horses and wagons among the freed slaves, giving Mara a little black mare. He also sorted the clothes so they all had an extra pair.

“Gold is mine?” Mara whispered.

“Yes, this gold is yours. I would normally give you more as you’ve been through more than most here, but I intend to take care of you myself.”

“Take care?” she asked. “How?”

“I’m going to give you a house on my lands; we’ll be neighbors. You’ll never have to pay me rent, and I’ll always be with you to take care of you.”

“Give Four Ears house? Just for Four Ears?”

“Yes, unless you want to live with me. You can be my guest.” Mara’s eyes widened a little, so he quickly explained, “Mara, your mother was very good to me when I needed help. So now I want to help you, because that’s what she wants.”

The Four-eared Khajiit looked over at the Nord, a strange mix emotions dancing in her eyes. “Mara thank,” she finally whispered.

They set out at once. The Nord promised to bring the freed slaves to the next settlement they came to. They were lucky to have him with them, as they ran into danger several times along the way.

It fascinated Mara to see the Nord fight. Though they never ran into as much trouble as they had that one night when he saved her, they still were faced with several dangerous situations.

The Nord stayed awake most of the night watching over them. Some nights she’d wake up to the sounds of battle, but sometimes she would sleep right through it and awake to find a Minotaur or pack of thieves dead in the middle of their camp.

One night they were attacked by a pack of wolves, and her horse and a couple others were slain. The Nord killed every one of the wolves that stayed and fought, and chased after and felled the ones that ran. It was terrifying to hear the howls and yells echoing through the forest trees over the thick, foggy night air. When the noise ended, she and all the others were sure that the impulsive Nord had run to his death. But a few seconds later he slowly stomped back to the camp, bloodied and annoyed, growling and muttering about what a nuisance the lack of horses would make.

As everyone else needed the remaining horses, the Nord had Mara ride his big warhorse while he walked beside her.

The horse was a little frightening, it was so big. But the Nord insisted she ride it, so, rather than walking, she got used to the Nord lifting her up to the big saddle.

As soon as they arrived at a settlement, the Nord bid the others all ado, and he and Mara left.

“Now that they’re at safety, we need to move as fast as we can. I pray we get back in enough time.”

“But Mara tired.”

“Mara can sleep on the horse.”

“Mara hungry.”

“I just bought more supplies – eat something. Have some more jerky.”

“Mara hate jerky. Jerky hard and hurt teeth.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

“Mara scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Being alone.”

“Alone? You’re with me.”

“Mara know. Mara afraid of being with just Nord.”

“But weren’t you scared of them? I never saw you talk to them or anything. You hissed anytime one of them went near you.”

“Yes, but Mara still scared of you.”

The Nord laughed a little at this. “We’ve been a week on the road. How can you still be afraid of me?”

“Mara is,” the Four-eared Khajiit told him. “Mara afraid take bread and cheese and even gross jerky away. Leave rat to fight. Mara afraid take pretty clothes away. Mara afraid make wife.”

“Mara you do realize don’t you that when they sold those women to be ‘wives’, they weren’t real ‘wives’ as the term is meant to be used. I mean, you can’t buy someone to make them your wife or husband.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” the Nord told, getting somewhat flustered. “Because when you meet someone and they become your husband or wife, it’s their choice. It’s because they love you, not because you’re rich enough to buy them. We only buy horses and clothing and furniture, not people.”

“But everyone does it.”

“No, not everyone. Even in the old days when slavery was legal, not everyone did it. Only scum did it. Mara, what those men do when they buy their ‘wives’ is what your father did to your mother.”

“But master told me there were nice ones and then mean ones, like Nord.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, master said Nord wanted to beat and hurt Mara.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to beat or hurt you… When you say hurt, do you mean…?”

“What man did to mother.”

The Nord nodded. “I would never hurt you, Mara, and there’s very little you could do that would make me hit you, never mind beat you.”

“What Mara do make Nord hit Mara?”

“Well…I don’t know…umm…threaten to kill someone.”

“What Mara kill someone?”

“No! You could never do something like that. Murder is wrong. When you killed your old master, that was one thing: he deserved to die. But you must not kill anyone else.”

“Mara killed Orc before.”

“Why?”

“Mara was sold as wife. Orc was nasty. Would hurt Mara. Master told if kill Orc, would take back. Mara killed Orc. Then Master said he would sell to nasty man like Orc. Sell to Nord.”

The Nord listened to this with interest, an eyebrow rising up at the end of the sentence. “Well, Nord isn’t going to hurt Mara,” he told her, noting how bad his sentences were getting as he kept trying to simplify them for her to understand better. “What would your master beat you for?”

“If Mara talk.”

“Well I like when you talk. In fact, after we go home, I’m going to take you to the temple where some of the priests will help you with your language. Have you been taught to read or write?”

“Master know how to read. Not write. Master no teach anything. Four Ears animal. Animals don’t know anything.”

The Nord nodded. “What else did he hit you for?”

“Mara no know. Mara hit all time. Mara get beat badly, though, when Mara’s bowl broke.”

“Well, don’t worry, I won’t beat you if you break anything. I just want you to be careful when you’re handling things. Especially glass.”

“When Mara was little, Mara stole. Food and doll. Little doll with big dress like Mara wears now. Master beat really badly. So Mara tried run away. Master beat again. Then Mara hit Master and bit.”

“And then your Master beat you really hard?” the Nord asked. Mara just nodded. “Don’t worry, Mara, I won’t do any of that. You won’t run away because I’ll treat you good. You won’t steal food because I’ll always give you food and because then you can get in trouble with the law.”

“Mara already stole.”

“What?!”

“Not from Nord!” she quickly told him, ducking from him. “From people.”

Stepping in front of his horse to stop it, the Nord looked up at Mara, demanding, “What did you take and where is it?”

Mara quickly took a piece of cloth from inside the saddlebag and handed it to the Nord. “See? None of Nord’s.”

The cloth itself was a rag of old, finer material. The Nord didn’t even want to know where she found it. There was a nice supply of food she had stolen from the little shops, and little trinkets she either stole or picked off the ground. Most of the stuff was completely worthless, but she did manage to snag someone’s ring.

“Where did you get this?” the Nord demanded.

“Finger.”

“Whose finger? And you took just the ring and not the finger, right?” he asked, cringing.

“Finger ugly and fat,” the Four-eared Khajiit told him, confused. “Old man had it. Have to take old man to get finger. No want old man. No want old man’s finger. But ring come off. Take ring. Not finger or old man.”

After carefully examining the ring, he declared, “Thankfully this is not worth much. However, it could mean a lot to him. Mara, what if this was the ring of the old man’s wife? What if this was all he had left to remember her by? And you just took it from him.”

The Four-eared Khajiit looked down at the Nord, her eyes displaying frustration and remorse. “But…”

“But nothing.”

“Do you realize what would happen if you were caught? They’d send you to jail. Do you want to go to jail?”

The Khajiit shook her head quickly.

“Don’t ever, ever, ever steal something from anyone else again. Do you understand me?”

She shook her head again, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Master no hit Mara?”

“I told you to call me Nord. Don’t call me ‘master’ again, do you understand?”

The tears fell down now, and she cringed slightly as she told him. “Yes master – Nord. No hit Four Ears.”

“Mara,” the Nord once again corrected. Sighing deeply to rid himself of his frustration – though it didn’t work completely – the Nord told her, “I’m going to leave these on the side of the road. Hopefully the patrol will find it before anyone else does. I can’t take it back, though, because then you’ll be in big trouble.”

“Yes mast-Nord.”

The Nord dropped the sack onto the ground and they walked on. Mara looked back at the beautiful things she had collected – the ring, the trinkets, the food. All of it was gone now.

“Stop crying,” the Nord grumbled. “You’d be crying a lot more if you were in jail now.”

“Yes Mast-Nord,” she answered through tears. “Nord hit Mara?”

“I think you learned your lesson this time. But if you steal again, I’m going to have to. Do you understand?”

“Yes master. Mara no steal ever. Promise.”

“Good,” the Nord told her, inwardly begging that she didn’t, for fear of how he’d have to get out of his threat.

[sford564]

Chapter 11: Punishment

It rained all that evening, so the Nord set up camp in some old ruins. Mara didn’t say much during the trip, but broke into tears frequently. Now that they actually stopped, she just sat by the fire pit, watching the flames, her ears flattened against her lowered head.

“Stop sulking,” the Nord told her as he took the saddle off his horse so it could eat.

“Yes mas-Nord.”

“Eat something while I get more firewood.”

“Yes.”

The Nord disappear for a little while but soon came back with another arm full of wood. He added some of it to the fire and put some of it a nice distance away to add it later on. He then sat down across from the Khajiit and began to eat.

“This bread is good,” he commented.

“Master mad at Four Ears?” she whispered, still not daring to look up at him. She softly ran her hand across her tail in a petting motion. Her ears still hugged the side of her head.

“No, the Nord isn’t mad at you.”

“The Nord leave in forest?”

“No, I’m not going to leave you in the forest.”

“Nord hit?”

“No, I’m not going to hit you. Mara!” she cringed as his tone rose in aggravation. “I’m not mad at you any more. Relax.”

“Yes master.”

The Nord looked over at her, skeptically, as he continued to eat. “Mara,” he stated as he finished his big chunk of bread. “Come here.”

The big-eyed Khajiit slowly approached, her tail tucked. As soon as she got close to him, she fell to the ground in a fetal position, covering her head.

Raising an eyebrow, the Nord sighed and knelt on the ground in front of her. “Sit up,” he instructed.

She slowly rose, kneeling in front of him, with her tail still tucked and her arms covering her face.

They sat there for several minutes, the Nord just staring at her, waiting for her to look at him, and the Four-eared Khajiit just cringing, expecting to be smacked around. But it never happened. Her tail slowly began to move, and her arms slowly, ever so slowly began to slip from off her head. They rose again when she saw that the Nord was looking directly into her face, but then they came down again. Up again. And then, finally, down again, completely. She sat there, waiting for him to hit her.

“Look at me,” the Nord instructed. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his.

“You don’t like my eyes, do you? Why do you always look away from them?”

Cringing once more, she answered. “Eyes scary. Pure black.”

“So you can’t tell what I’m thinking or feeling? If it’s any consolation to you, most people were afraid of my eyes. Now it’s my face they don’t like, but… the eyes don’t help, either. Please put your arms down.”

The Khajiit slowly obeyed.

“You seem to think that I’m going to punish you for what you did. I suppose you’re right: I really should. Ah – put your arms down. When I went to the temple when I was younger, they used to take a little rod and smack your hand if you were bad. That is the method I will use.”

The Khajiit slipped her hands under her armpits. The Nord took a long, thin, freshly shaved rod from beside the pile of wood that he was storing. “I made this from a branch,” he told her as he picked it up and swung it next to her. The rod made a loud cracking noise through the air. He swung it several more times, watching her cringe at each hiss and crack it made.

“I’m sorry Mara, but there’s no way to get out of this. Now make it easy on yourself and show me your hands.”

The Four-eared Khajiit slowly brought her hands out, though it would have been a little hard to hit at something that shook that much.

“I am going to give you the option of five or ten hits. Which do you think you deserve?”

“Ten?”

“Probably, but would you prefer if you only got five?”

“Yes master.”

“All right. Then five hits it is.”

He dropped the rod into her hand. She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“I am acting as your guardian, so I will take your punishment this time,” he explained. “You have to give me five of the strongest hits you can.”

Mara, her eyes huge, just looked down at the rod in her hands.

“Mara! Concentrate! Look at me. Thank you. Now take the rod in your hand. Yes. Now hit my hand with it.”

The Four-eared Khajiit shook her head no.

“Do it Mara. Now.” Again she shook her head. His voice rose, “Now! Do it now!”

She had been taught to obey, no matter how much it hurt or could hurt her, so as soon as his voice began to sound threatening, the rod fell with great force across his large hands. She gasped with horror when she realized what she did.

“Do it again!” he yelled, cringing slightly at the sharpness of the blow. She smacked him once more, without thinking.

Realizing that as soon as he yelled at her she would do as he said, he ordered her, “Again! Again! Again!”, each time receiving a hit just as hard as the other. His thick skinned hands were red and puffy, making him wonder what would have happened to her little hands had he actually been beast enough to hit her like that.

The Khajiit just stared at his hands, horrified. She was one part horrified and remorseful at having just hurt him and another part terrified that he might retaliate after all that she just did to him.

She stood there, shaking, tears welling in her eyes. The Nord wrapped his arms around her and brought her to his chest. “There,” he whispered, “You’re not going to steal anything again right?”

She shook her head in agreement against him.

“Then there’s nothing wrong. There’s nothing to be worried about. Everything’s okay.”

The Khajiit shook and cried in his arms.

The rain began to get heavier and heavier, and soon it was pouring out of the sky. After several moments of hugging her, she finally began to calm down. Still not fully calm, though, and shivering from the fatigue of crying so hard and from the cold rain beating against them, the Nord picked her up, wrapped his cloak around her, and held her in his arms.

The whole night they stayed like that, the Four-eared Khajiit wrapped tightly in the Nord’s arms, jumping and whimpering every time a lightening streak shook the earth and illuminated the sky.

[mALX]

I love it when she talks in third person !!!!! I got teary-eyed the first time I read the part about the whipping though. Awesome Write !!!!!!

[sford564]

Chapter 12: Crossing the River

The lightning storm died away slowly toward the morning, and Mara slowly nodded into sleep. Not wanting to wake her, but being in a rush to get home, the Nord set out with the Khajiit cradled asleep in his arms.

She was a deep sleeper and didn’t wake up until about midday that day. It was actually a nightmare that stirred her from her sleep. She whimpered and whined and muttered something incomprehensible, twitching and jerking her arms and legs as if she were trying to escape from something or someone.

The Nord pushed her up onto his arm as he took his free hand and gently rubbed her face and head to calm her. This seemed to work, for she stopped whimpering when he ran his hand across her face, but started as soon as he stopped.

As they were nearing a river that they’d need to cross, he decided to put her down under a tree and let her wake up by herself so that she could eat and prepare to cross the raging river.

As he laid her down under the shady tree, her head slipped and rubbed against a root. This didn’t wake her fully, but she sleepily nuzzled her head back and forth, a soft purr sound emitting from somewhere in her throat.

The Nord knelt beside her to see what she was doing: she was rubbing one of her big Khajiit ears against the tree root. He put his hand under her head and began to gently scratch behind her ear. This seemed more favorable to the Khajiit, as her purring grew louder and louder, and she slowly leaned her head back into his hands.

But this only lasted a few moments. As soon as consciousness took hold of her, the Khajiit jumped up, hissing. Looking around, she only saw the Nord. She tilted her head, questioningly, at him.

He slowly reached out his hand toward her. She ducked a little but allowed him to bring it to one of her ears and scratch. At first she was too scared to realize how much she enjoyed it, but soon she started to purr lowly. Then she began to awkwardly lean back into his hand, purring much louder. He scratched both ears with his two hands, and, purring uncontrollably, she leaned her head farther and farther in toward him, until, her eyes closed and her head rested against his broad chest, bringing their faces but inches apart.

The Nord was at first highly amused and interested in this strange behavior, but, as he looked down into the soft face in front of his, the long orange eyelashes, the little pink nose and the soft red lips, he soon found his attention drawn toward other thoughts. Even her two sets of ears were beautiful. Unusual, but beautiful.

Pulling away quickly, making the Khajiit loose her balance, he rose, telling her, “We need to eat quickly so that we can cross the river. Do you know how to swim?”

Somewhat confused at what had happened, she answered, “Mara swim? No.”

The Nord nodded. “All right then. The current is really strong, and it could easily sweep you away. You’re going to have to wear a rope around your waist to keep us together, so in case you slip, I can drag you back to safety. Do you understand?”

The Four-eared Khajiit nodded slowly, though she didn’t really. Whatever master said was what had to be done.

“You’re also going to have to hold onto my back as we cross. The horse is going to have a hard enough time crossing by himself, so it will be dangerous for you to be on his back, especially if he falls. I’m going to hold onto his reins to help him across, and you’re going to be on my back, holding onto me. Do you understand?”

Again the Four-eared Khajiit nodded her head.

After crossing the river, which was a scary ordeal for the poor Khajiit who clung so tightly to the Nord as they crossed that he could barely breathe, they continued on again all that day and night.

“Mara tired,” the Khajiit grumbled. “Must sleep.”

“We need to keep traveling. I promised your mother I’d bring you back. Every hour counts; we lost half a week by bringing the others with us.”

“But Mara die if no sleep.”

“Then sleep.”

“We stop?”

“No, you can fall asleep on the horse.”

Mara cried out in protest. “Mara fall and die!”

“Then Mara can sleep in my arms like she did last night.”

Again the Four-eared Khajiit protested, but after another ten or so minutes, she agreed to it. “Just don’t hurt Mara,” she told him.

“Why would I hurt you?”

“And no drop Mara?”

“Why would I drop you?”

The Khajiit jumped into his open arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his shoulder. Her tail wrapped around one of his arms.

“No drop,” she reminded him. It took her but a few minutes before she fell asleep, muttering, “No move.”



This post has been edited by sford564: Oct 1 2010, 03:53 AM

[haute ecole rider]

Again the Four-eared Khajiit protested, but after another ten or so minutes, she agreed to it. “Just don’t hurt Mara,” she told him.

“Why would I hurt you?”

“And no drop Mara?”

“Why would I drop you?”

That sums up their developing relationship at this stage very nicely. I like what you are doing with the two protagonists - it makes me want to keep reading.

[mALX]

I loved this chapter !!!! Nord slowly gains her trust just as he begins having thoughts of his own. You do an AWESOME job with cat behavior in Four Ears !!! (Mara, but I always think of her when she first started talking and called herself 'Four Ears' in third person)

This post has been edited by mALX: Oct 1 2010, 04:25 AM

[Rachel the Breton]

"No drop," she reminded him. It took her but a few minutes before she fell asleep, muttering, "No move."

LOL, how like a cat! Negotiating for her own way 110%, and, before you know it, she's giving the orders.

This story is awesome, can't wait to read more!

[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.

[sford564]

Chapter 14: Scars from the Past

After they had left town and were far enough away that the trees and mountains began to block their view of it, Mara asked, “Master mad at Four Ears?”

“No,” he replied icily.

“Master hate Four Ears.”

“No.”

The Khajiit’s ears fell across her head again.

“It has nothing to do with you,” he told her, his voice still laced with aggravation and anger. “It has to do with me.” Mara didn’t look up at him, as she wasn’t sure if she believed him or not.

The Nord’s hands clenched in and out of a fist. “Laws be damned!” he suddenly declared. “I wanted to beat the Breton’s face into the wall! I probably would have if it wouldn’t have gotten you in trouble, too. But just being with me you would have. Just being a ‘monster’ you would have.”

He sighed deeply and sat down on a big rock. He was sulking.

Mara observed him for a while before slipping off the horse and sitting on his lap. He grunted a little but allowed her on his legs.

“Why people not like master?”

After several moments of silence, he replied, “People are afraid of me.”

“Why?”

“Well look at me! I’m a monster! Look at my face! How can you not be scared by this?!”

Mara tilted her head from side to side to observe it. “Not pretty,” she told him at last. That only got a scoff from him. “But not scary – master too nice to be scary.”

“Will you stop calling me master?!”

Once again lowering her ears and bowing her head for a few seconds, Mara asked, “Nord?”

“Yes?”

“Can I touch?”

“Touch what?”

“Face.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

He scoffed slightly, explaining, “Sometimes, when it rains, water runs into the cuts. I can feel it run all the way down to the bone. They literally cut down to my cheekbones! It drives me crazy. To feel something go inside me like that – the wind, the rain, a bug, a chunk of food. Have you ever pushed a bug out of your face? Literally sitting inside your face?!”

He tore at his hair as he spoke, taking out large chunks of soft black hair as his fingers writhed from mental agony. Mara softly touched his hands.

“Master?” she whispered.

He allowed her to take his hands off his head and push them down to his side again. She slowly brought her finger up to his face and began to trace along the hideously large scars. Then she ran her hand across them to feel them more.

The Nord moved his head away from her.

The Khajiit slowly leaned over and kissed his cheek. He turned to her, questioningly, but she didn’t seem to notice much. She kissed him once more on that cheek and then on the other cheek. She kissed his forehead, and, as he had still not pushed away yet, she brought her lips down his scarred face in tiny kisses until she reached his lips. She softly pressed her little lips against his bottom lip. Still not satisfied, she pressed her lips against both of them in an awkward kiss.

The Nord pulled away from her now. “Stop,” he instructed.

“Why?” Mara whispered.

“Because…it’s wrong.”

“Why?”

“It is. I came to save you. Not to use you.”

“Use Mara? What that?”

“It means that you’re venerable. You’re not used to people being nice to you. Treating you like you’re a human. So of course you’re going to feel that you like me. But you don’t really.”

Mara didn’t understand that, so she leaned over again and said, “Master could make Mara wife.”

“Mara!”

“Master said wife needed to want husband. Mara want Nord as husband.”

“It’s different Mara. It just is.”

“Master never marry Mara?”

“Never. …Well, probably never.”

“When?”

“When Mara has matured enough and seen more of the world so that she knows for sure that it’s me and not someone else she wants,” he explained, slipping into her way of talking. It was becoming easier and easier for him to do that lately.

“Who else Mara want?”

“Well anyone! You might find a nice Khajiit –”

“No! No! Mara no like Khajiit. Khajiit scare Mara.”

“Mara, you are a Khajiit…”

“Still scare Mara.”

The Nord sighed and, smiling, shook his head at her. “Does anything not scare you?”

“Nord.”

The Nord nodded.

“Master want to start travel?”

The Nord nodded again. Mara decided to walk beside him as they continued on their journey.

“Why so snow?”

“Because we’re in Skyrim now.”

“What Skyrim?”

“Where we are now.”

“It cold.”

“Yes, well we Nords like it.”

“Mara no like.”

The Nord smiled. They walked on for a ways before Mara asked him, “How face get hurt?”

The Nord’s face clouded. “I was always an ugly man, you know,” he confessed. “They told me when I was younger that I was dropped on my face as a wee babe, and it wouldn’t surprise me. And then, of course, I have these black eyes. You’re not the only one afraid of them. I was always told to tell people what I was thinking and feeling, because a man’s soul is read through his eyes, but not through mine. Mine hides my feelings and thoughts.”

“Not from Mara. Mara starting to understand Nord’s feelings.”

Ignoring this, the Nord continued, “Well, my father was a Blade. My mother died and he took me with him wherever he went. Then he died. The Blades took me, raised me. I became the ‘Little Nord’, and, when I was older, ‘the Nord’. They told me that somewhere in Skyrim I had a family estate and money waiting to be claimed, but I wanted to be a Blade. They told me to find my old home and see if the civilian life was for me. If it wasn’t and I came back to them, they would make me an official member of the Blades.

It was my greatest desire.

I was traveling through when I came to a little place called Hackdirt. The people there seemed weird, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. I was tired and wanted to rest. I rented a bed at their inn.

I’m not sure what happened, but all I remember is falling asleep and then waking up to someone sneaking into my bedroom. There weren’t that many, so I could have easily killed them all, but…”

“But?”

“There was a mage among them. I’ve never felt such powerful magic; it knocked me out cold. The next thing I knew is that I was underground, tired to an altar, with some sort of magic barrier holding me down.


I don’t know what they were saying, for they talked in a language I never heard before. They had primitive weapons. They took a boar’s tusk and ran it across my cheeks. Both of them. And then… then… Well, you can see what they did. They were about to kill me, but the magic barrier must have worn off from all my struggles. I grabbed their leader and killed him with his own boar tusk.

I’m not sure how, but I was able to kill them and escape. I didn’t kill them all, unfortunately, because most ran as soon as they saw their leader fall.

I ran and ran. Somehow I made it out of the cavern and out of Hackdirt. I was found by another Nord. He brought me to safety.

It took months – over a year – for this to heal, even with the help and prayers of the monks. When my friends, my family – the only ones I had ever know – the Blades – saw me… well…they couldn’t even look at me. They were too disgusted and ashamed.

I wandered from town to town. No one wanted me there. No one wanted to help me. To look at me. Then I ran into the Nord again, Igor. He ran an inn up in Falkreath: Igor’s Inn.

We talked for a while and he helped me find my old ancestral home in Whiterun. It was Igor who introduced me to your mother. He found her starving in the Imperial City, sickly and dying, begging for little things of coins, so he took her with him. She acted as his assistant, and he gave her food and shelter.

Well, Jo Dar felt sorry for me, so she followed me instead. She helped me settle into my new house. She made me realize there was a reason to still live.

Alas, though, her illness got worse and worse, and nothing we gave her would help. Not the magic of the monks nor any of my potions. Only the gods can heal her, and they won’t.

She would always tell me about the little four-eared daughter of hers, but she never told me where you were. She always said, ‘Oh, somewhere. Somewhere. Someday her mama will see her again. Someday.’

It was only when she got so bad that we had to take her to the monastery to stay that she told me your story. As soon as she had her freedom, she traveled from city to city trying to find you or any news of you. She had no money or food, and when she got sick, she couldn’t even steal to keep herself alive.” He paused for several moments before telling her, “We’re going to be at Falkreath in a couple more days, and then it’s a two day and one night trip to Whiterun. Your mother is resting in the monastery there. When we get to Falkreath, we’ll stop by Igor’s Inn and see if he has any news about her. Mara, it is possible that your mother is already dead.”

[mALX]

You have a tremendous ability to bring out the emotions in the reader with your story - Awesome Write!

[sford564]

You have a tremendous ability to bring out the emotions in the reader with your story - Awesome Write!

Thanks so much mALX. I'm glad I'm not the only touched by my writing... Sometimes I'll have to stop writing sad parts in my fanfics because it saddens me so much, but I never know if it's just because I'm attatched to the characters or if it really is good emotion.