There was a snow storm outside, which somehow made the night seem all that much more depressing and scary. Elara was a young Breton girl that lived in a well to-do family. Well, she wasn't exactly a young girl. She was a full grown woman that should be capable of handling herself in the harsh land of Skyrim. However, because of her sheltered upbringing, she knew just about nothing of the outside world. Elara only knew what her parents told her, and the spell books they bought her. She did what they said without question, but this time they went too far.
"You're marring him, you understand me?" Her father said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Father, I don't love him. He's old and he smells somewhat like our dog did before he passed." Elara said, careful to keep a respectful tone.
Her father didn't say anything; he took a long sip of his mug of water and sighed loudly. Elara didn't like when he did this. This meant he didn't really care about her input. It was if it he didn't hear it.
"I really just want to be on my own for a little while." Elara said, "I want to see the world – or at least Skyrim – I want to tell my children about my knowledge and wonderful adven-"
"You understand me?" He repeated, as if he never heard her.
"Yes father." She felt utterly defeated.
"We're going to get quite the dowry. It'll help us make quite the settlement." He said. His tone was still the same though there was a new found smile on his face.
Elara walked up stairs to her room. She closed the door, got on her bed, and curled up under the covers. She gave a loud sob. She didn't want this; she didn't want this at all! The man her father wanted her to marry was at least 30 winters her senior, and he was not carrying his age well. She only saw her apparent fiancé once. He had one missing eye but no scars to suggest a battle. Despite having money, he looked severely malnourished. He hacked and gagged.
The door cracked open without a knock. "Elara, my sweet, are you decent?" It was her mother.
"Yes ma, I am" She quickly dried her tears.
Her mother walked in, carrying at least five or six books. She wasn't smiling, in fact, she looked very worried. She sat the books down on the end table beside Elara's bed. Her mother, Ysona, sat down on the edge of the bed.
"I brought you some spell books." She said, hoping this would somehow cheer her daughter up.
"Thanks ma." Elara said, though it clearly didn't help the situation.
There was an awkward pause. Ysona wasn't quite sure what to say next. She wanted so badly to comfort her daughter and tell her that everything was going to be alright. However, she knew that it wouldn't be. Ysona wanted nothing more than to beg the Gods for something to say to her distressed daughter. She knew her kind words wouldn't help her, not this time.
"Ma, I think I want to run away." Elara whimpered, "I mean I don't want to run away. I have to run away."
Elara's mother thought for a moment. "You've never been out in the real world, Skyrim is not like home. It will eat you alive. It is eating us alive. Money just simply isn't enough here." She knew she wasn't being comforting, but at least realistic.
"I won't be happy." She simply said back
"I'd rather have you alive and well then happy and dead, if I had to choose." Her mother hoped that some measure of comfort came from her words. She hugged her daughter.
"Thanks for the books mother." Elara wouldn't make eye contact.
"You're welcome. They came from your – that man. He's going to get you a private tutor once you two are…together." She picked her words very carefully, attempting to focus on the positives of the situation.
Elara didn't reply, she still looked so defeated and alone. Ysona felt hopeless in her attempts to cheer the young girl up. Ysona didn't have the heart to tell her daughter that they moved just outside of Winterhold for this marriage and the farm settlement they would make. Skyrim may be forcibly joining the empire as soon as the rebellion is crushed, but it was still easy to get away with a lot of things, including this forced marriage. Ysona sighed, wondering if her husband's plan of greater riches was worth her daughter's unhappiness.