"Hell, it's about time."
It sure is, but life has a nagging way of getting in the way.
This is the first chapter in a planned series of independent shorts about the torments the followers of the Dragonborn has to endure in his/her service.
The chapters are considered standalone unless otherwise stated, and the Dragonborn may vary as well.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Elder Scrolls in any way.
Ps: I know this isn't as fun as I intended it to be, but I hope it'll make you chuckle once or maybe twice at least.
…
Irony
…
Lydia had heard many bad things about both the Rift and Riften, the city named after the hold… or maybe it was the other way around. Doesn't matter, Lydia thought as she followed the Dragonborn through the city gates and entered the city. The first thing to hit her was the stench of rotten fish and things she didn't want to think about. The canals in the city were literally oozing… she suspected that the population simple emptied their waste into the water when they were through with it. That'd also include the waste which came from their bodies as well…
Urgh, don't think about that! Lydia reprimanded herself. But it was hard to not think about it… Whiterun had its own particular smell, but the winds on the tundra ensured that most of it dissipated before it could reach sensitive noses. That was obviously not the case in Riften.
She quickly forgot the smell when her thane, aka the Dragonborn started chanting the chant they first had heard in Windhelm a few days prior.
"Sweet Mother, sweet Mother", the Dragonborn began chanting as he happily strolled down the main road towards the main square in the city. "… send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear."
The Dragonborn, a young Imperial male, didn't care the slightest that the inhabitants of the city did their best to avoid him as he marched along the dirty street. Lydia sighed and sped up to catch up to him. He had chanted that damn chant ever since that kid had mistaken him for an assassin from the Dark Brotherhood and had given him a contract to kill the headmistress of the orphanage in Riften.
That a child would want someone murdered had almost made Lydia's eyes jump out of their sockets… that the Dragonborn had accepted the contract caused her to faint. She had tried her best to talk him out of it, but her word had fallen on deaf ears to say the least. This reinforced her nagging belief that she wasn't much more than a piece of scenery to him when he didn't want something from her. And now we're here, she thought in defeat, to kill an old lady who made a grieving kid cry some more. She could sympathize with his loss and understood that the kid was angry… but killing someone who wronged you was just too much.
"Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me…", Lydia wondered if it would be for the best if she alerted the city guards and told them what her Thane was up to. That would force her to break her oath to him, but if she didn't… this isn't right, Lydia thought.
She spotted a guard leaning against a wall. Yes, that was the right thing to do. Sorry, my Thane, but I have to do this.
"Excuse me", Lydia said to the guard.
The Guard turned towards her and eyed her… far longer than she liked. Damn you Dragonborn for making me wear this… thing! Lydia thought as she looked down on her apparel… or lack of. Her Thane had told her to put on a Foresworn armor when they had first left Whiterun. She had first believed this was because he wanted to infiltrate the Reach. She had held on to that belief when he steered towards Windhelm instead of the Reach and simply concluded that the young Imperial simply didn't understand basic geography. That belief had been smashed into tiny pieces when she had confronted him about it at an in close to Windhelm. The worst part: her thane had sold her trusty old steel armor and spent the money on wine… couldn't he have bought mead instead?
"Imperials", she muttered to none in particular and almost collided with a city guard. She excused herself and moved to follow her Thane on his ill-conceived assassination plot… but she couldn't see him in the crowd of citizens going about their daily lives. And that settled it…
Doing her duty was one thing. Even if it contradicted her personal beliefs and convictions… but killing the headmistress of an orphanage? No, just no, that wasn't a burden she had sworn to carry.
"Excuse me", she said, not completely sure how to explain her situation. "Look, I need help with…"
Her Thane's voice cut her off before she could finish the sentence. "Lydia, there you are!" The Dragonborn emerged from the crowd and stepped up beside her. Her blood froze to ice, and she was at a loss for words. The courage she had managed to muster evaporated just as quickly as it had appeared and left her in silence.
The guard looked at the two of them with a puzzled expression. "What seems to be the problem?"
The Dragonborn looked a bit embarrassed. "Well, the thing is… we're looking for this orphanage…"
"The Honorhall Orphanage?" The guard asked.
"Yes, that's the one!" The Dragonborn exclaimed in excitement. "Can you direct us to it?"
The guard nodded towards the way the two of them had been heading before Lydia made her detour. "Sure, just follow the road until you reach the main square. It's on the far right side."
"Thanks, you're a godsend", the Dragonborn said and grabbed Lydia by the arm and dragged her with him towards their goal.
"No lollygagging", Lydia heard the guard say as they disappeared in the crowd. Damn, she thought.
…
Honorhall Orphanage could've used some maintenance… just like the rest of Riften. The building was old, lacked any trace of appealing personality and made her start to question how well the children inside fared during winter.
But that still didn't make some assassination justified. Lydia looked at her grinning Thane and cleared her throat. "Are you really sure you want to do this? Don't you think the guards will arrest you if you kill the headmistress? This isn't worth being thrown in jail for."
The Dragonborn lost his grin and gained a thoughtful expression. "You may be right." He turned and scanned the bustling crowd on the square/market place. "Stay here, I got some thinking to do."
Lydia watched in awe as her Thane made his way towards the temple of Mara. She felt a grin spread on her lips. Her words had actually made an impact.
…
Lydia waited for hours in front of the orphanage. She had to dodge countless salesmen who tried to sell her their wares and one or two pickpockets. The latter received a swift kick to the groin and were handed over to the guard. But Lydia didn't let those few incidents sully her good mood. She had managed to save an innocent life and possibly redeemed a lost soul who all of Skyrim counted on. Today was a good day, Lydia mused.
Her musing was suddenly interrupted when her Thane emerged from the crowd with a large stack of papers in his hands. "Lydia, there you are!"
She eyed the stack of papers with some suspicion. "What's that?"
He looked down at the stack of papers and grinned. "Oh, this priest-looking fellow asked me to hand these out to the people of Riften. It's supposed to be Mara's teachings or something like that. Could you help me pass these around to the lost people here in Riften?"
So, he's basically handing out pamphlets… still better than murdering someone I suppose, Lydia thought. Then again, devoting yourself to the teachings of the goddess of love was hardly a bad thing at all.
She smiled and accepted a rough half of the pamphlets. "Sure, I'd be glad to help."
"Awesome", the Dragonborn said. "But don't give away all of them. You'll need a good bunch later."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'll need them later? For what exactly?"
He looked surprised; almost as if he was surprised she'd missed an obvious part in the task. "For the distraction of course", he smiled.
She took a step back. "What distraction?"
"Hey, keep up with the program!" the Dragonborn exclaimed. "Don't you remember why we're here to begin with?"
Lydia felt foreboding sense of fear and despair crush all hope. "To assassinate the headmistress of this orphanage?"
"Exactly! And what assassin would try to assassinate someone in the middle of the day with lots of witnesses, kids included. That'd mean lots of screaming, and lots of screaming means a migraine for me… trust me, you don't want me to have a migraine."
She could barely move. "And what's with these? Why should we hand these out?" She asked and looked at the papers.
"To keep ourselves occupied until nightfall", the Dragonborn explained. "And for you to distract any potential witness while I do the deed… so to speak." He spun around towards the market with a smile. "Enough lollygagging, I'm getting restless already!"
Lydia stared after him with an open mouth. We came here to kill someone, and now we're handing out pamphlets about love and understanding… has anyone ever explained what irony means to this guy?
She watched as the Dragonborn approached a vendor. "Excuse me, sir; do you have a moment to talk about our lady and savior, Mara?" He then approached a drunkard and exclaimed. "The power of lady Mara compels you!"
Yep, this'll be interesting, Lydia thought in defeat.
…
So, that's it for now.
This is based on another of my brother's… adventures in Skyrim. He traveled to Riften to kill the old lady in the orphanage but ended up doing these jobs for the Mara priests before doing so. I pointed out the irony and we both had a good laugh about it.
Ps: The power of Mara compels you to leave a review, she'd appreciate that very much, and so would I.