A Wood Elf in Windhelm, Stranger in a Strange Land? Options

[haute ecole rider]

Welp it has been a few years (yikes, almost EIGHT??) since I last posted anything in the Fan Fiction forum. I've taken up writing once again now that I have a couple of voices talking in my head once again. I hope y'all enjoy this one . . .

Sundas 17 Last Seed - Candlehearth Hall

“Child!” Lili turned her gaze toward the source of the voice. “Get that mangy mutt out of here! And go home to your parents!”

Here we go again. Lili lowered her hood to show her face, lean, sharp featured and highlighted by slanted eyes. She lowered her hand to touch the dog’s ears, just as pointed as her own. “Forgive me, ma’am,” she kept her voice soft, pitched to carry across the room to the Nord innkeeper behind her counter. “I’ve traveled from across the sea. This dog followed me from the docks. I seek food, a bath, and a bed for both of us. And I assure you Star has been cleansed of any fleas or lice or other vermin. But if you wish,” she half turned to the door behind her, “I’ll go seek lodging somewhere else.”

“Wait!” The woman stepped from behind the counter and approached Lili, gesturing her to step into the pool of light from a nearby sconce. “Forgive me, given your size I thought . . .”

“I take it you don’t see many Bosmer here in Windhelm,” Lili countered softly. “It’s an honest mistake, ma’am.” She looked down at Star’s bright blue eyes. “I can pay for both of us, but I also have a pair of fat salmon -” she held up two fish from beneath her cloak “- I fished up off the docks this afternoon. If you’ll let me use your kitchen for a little while, I can cook it up for us.”

“Salmon?” The woman exclaimed. “Nonsense! Nils!” She called over her shoulder down the hallway extending to the rear of the inn. “My name’s Elda Early-Dawn, I run this inn.” She glanced warily at the black and white dog. “We typically don’t serve dogs in here . . .”

“I’m Lilisfina. That’s why I offered to cook for the both of us,” Lili assured her. “I did clean him up before we came up from the docks.”

“Wait, isn’t he the stray dog the Argonians feed from time to time?” Elda put her hands on her hips. “He’s not filthy, is he?”

“Not anymore,” Lili smiled at him and ruffled his scruff. “I made sure of it.”

Elda narrowed her eyes at the slight Bosmer. “How?” She leaned down slightly and sniffed audibly. “He doesn’t smell fishy, or wet.”

Lili sent a faint wave of restoration magic down his body. Elda gasped and hastily stepped back. Her hand crept to her throat and grasped a small amulet.

“I’ve been traveling all over Tamriel as healer,” Lili explained softly. “And learning as much as I can from fellow healers and mages.”

“Magic?” Elda exclaimed. “Goodness! Not here, nothing dangerous like that! That’s all best kept up at the College of Winterhold.”

Lili pulled the coin purse from her belt. “May I pay for a room, a bath, and the use of your kitchen, ma’am?”

A scruffy man appeared at Elda’s shoulder. “You called, ma’am?”

“Give Nils the salmon,” Elda took a deep breath and met Lili’s gaze. “You can have your choice from our menu, if you want to give that dog something other than fish. We’ll put the salmon on our menu for tonight, or you can have it prepared your way for yourself.” Lili turned to the wizened older man and held the fish to him. “As for the room and the bath, it would be ten drakes for the room and three for the bath.” Her gaze flickered to the dog. “It’d be extra if you bathe the dog too.”

Nils hefted the fish thoughtfully, then grinned in satisfaction at their weight. Lili smiled back, then turned to Elda. “The dog won’t appreciate the bath, but if you have a nice mutton bone left over from that stew I smell cooking he wouldn’t mind that.”

“That’s nice salmon, mind,” Nils exclaimed softly as he met Lili’s gaze. “Salmon my way, salmon your way, or our mutton stew?”

“Let me try the stew,” Lili answered. “I’ve had nothing but smoked fish on the way here.” She counted out the drakes and handed them to Elda. “And here’s three for the bath, and twenty for two nights in the room. Would that be acceptable?”

“Of course,” Elda exclaimed, palming the coins into the purse at her waist. Here’s a woman who knows the value of a good coin. “Follow me, ma’am.” She turned and followed Nils into the back hallway. While he continued down to the rear of the structure, Elda stopped at the first door on the left. She drew a key from her pocket, unlocked it and swung it open. “Does this suit you and your dog?”

“He’s not really my dog,” Lili remarked as she stepped in. “But he decided to follow me.”

“Likely because you fed him,” Elda muttered as Star followed after Lili, his white tipped tail waving over his back as he explored the room with his nose. “Well, do you want your bath first, or eat first?”

“It’s cold outside,” Lili set her pack onto the bed, “and it will take time to get a hot bath ready. I think I’ll eat that stew first.”

“And what would you like to drink?”

“Mead?” Lili asked. “I’ve heard so much about it, and I’d like to try some.”

“Mead it is!” Elda nodded emphatically. “Mind you, be careful with it until you get used to it.”

“I’m Bosmer,” Lili smiled. “Grew up on jagga and rotmeth.” Elda pulled a face. She’s actually tasted jagga or rotmeth?

“Head upstairs, and I’ll have Susanna bring you your meal,” she nodded at Star, “and a bone for that dog. He’d better behave himself!”

“Thank you very much, ma’am,” Lili cast a lock spell on her bag, then followed the Nord innkeeper out. At the taller woman’s gesture, she headed up the wide stairs to the main hall above.

The large space, tucked beneath the high steep roof, took up the entire length of the inn. A large flagstone hearth, its chimney holding up the centerline of the roof, took up the center of the room. The part of the room adjacent to the open stairway held three tables, all three occupied. Chairs were placed along the walls and around the fireplace. On the other side, to the rear, a slender Dunmer plucked at a lute, a plaintive melody drifting from her long fingers.

“Hello!” Another Nord woman, this one a bit younger, her abundant curves highlighted by a rather lightweight outfit, approached Lili. “I’m Susanna the Wicked. Have you already ordered something to eat or drink, ma’am?”

“Elda will be sending something up shortly,” Lili replied. “I’m Lilisfina. You don’t seem very wicked to me, Susanna.”

“Are you new to Skyrim, ma’am?” Susanna tucked her tray beneath one arm. At Lili’s nod, she leaned down slightly to speak softly. “Here in Skyrim, nicknames are meant to be ironic. They call Elda Early-Dawn because, well, she sleeps late most days.” She nodded at a slouched Nord, his winter cap askew over his ears. “And Rolff Stone-Fist, because he has a glass hand. Jaw, too, to tell the truth.” She touched the side of her nose with her finger. “I didn’t tell you that.”

Lili smiled back at her and mirrored her gesture. “Tell me what?” She looked around the room again.

“You’ll have to share a table with one of those men,” Susanna straightened up. She eyed Lili thoughtfully.

“Which one do you suggest?” Lili asked. “I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.”

“Hmm, the black beard nearest us is Captain Lonely-Gale. He’s nice enough, but he’s being - aggressively - pursued by a certain spinster. That makes him cranky when she’s been on him, and she should be coming in here soon.” She shook her head warningly. “Not good company then.” Her gaze shifted to the front wall. “The older gentleman in the left corner behind the stairwell is Adonato Leotelli. He’s a writer, and when he’s writing . . .”

Lili took in the bent head, the quivering quill and the sheets of parchment scattered across the table. “Resents any distraction?”

“And did Elda say you could bring your dog here?” Susanna tipped her head at the Skyrim Husky, who regarded the room from his seated position at Lili’s side. “Because Leotelli will complain about misbehaving dogs, barking and panting and breaking up his concentration.”

“He’s not my dog,” Lili corrected. “But I understand what you mean. I definitely wouldn’t want to interrupt the creative process.”

Susanna snorted softly. “Now that big one with the shaved head and fierce face,” she indicated the man in the opposite corner, scratched iron glimmering in the candlelight with each slow breath, “Stenvar’s a sellsword. Strongest sword arm in the North, if you believe him.” She regarded him with a fond expression. “He’s rough, and looks like an absolute brute, but I assure you, he’s a good man to know. He won’t mind your - the dog, either. If he’s got a temper, I haven’t seen it yet.”

“How would he feel about sharing a table with an Elf?” Lili asked. Susanna glanced sharply at her. “Oh, I heard Rolff Stone-Fist and one other man giving a Dunmer lady a hard time before I came in. Sounded like there’s a fair bit of resentment about them here in Windhelm.”

Susanna laid a finger on her lips. “We can talk about that another time, Lilisfina.” She waved toward the mercenary’s table. “Go on, sit there. I’ll bring you your meal right away!”

Lili and Star wove their way between the chairs toward the indicated table. She noticed the round shield and war axe leaning against a chair at the side of the table, then the hilt of a zwei-hander over the sellsword’s shoulder. He raised his blue gaze from his mug as she stopped beside the chair opposite him.

“May I?” Lili rested her hand on the back of the chair in question.

“Of course,” Stenvar straightened his shoulders slightly and waved his free hand in open invitation. As she took her seat, he clenched his hand and tapped his iron cuirass in greeting. “I’m Stenvar.”

“Lilisfina,” she put her palms together in front of her own chest and nodded once. “My pleasure.”

“Are you certain?” Stenvar’s voice rumbled softly, his eyes glinting with good humor. “I’d argue the pleasure is mine. It’s not often I get a beautiful lass ask to sit at my table.”

Lili regarded him thoughtfully. “Somehow I get the feeling plenty of beautiful ladies do more than just sit with you, sir.” She kept her tone light and soft, and lifted her right brow in challenge.

Stenvar grinned, then shook his head with a chuckle. “Not as many as you’d think, ma’am.”