Author's Note:

Reviews, critiques and everything else are not only encouraged, but also rewarded with a sweet roll and a naked NPC of your choice! Skyrim doesn't belong to me, but if anyone finds a portal to Tamriel, let me know.

This fanfiction is inspired by my third playthrough of Skyrim, second with the Live Another Life Mod (which I thoroughly recommend). This will follow some main arcs, but won't cover everything ever in the history of Skyrim's Dragonborn shenanigans. You will have to forgive me (or enjoy i) if it ends up longer than that.

Eventual Vilkas / Dragonborn...I think.

Updates every week!

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"Mother, tomorrow I will be leaving town with Erik."

Her mother and father exchanged a worried glance. You could see Al-Hazem's eye twitch, his mouth in a sneer. He may have loved Erik as his son, but in that moment it was obvious who would be getting a dagger in the gut later that day.

"Amina, he's your cousin! It's forbidden!". She could have ducked the spittle that flew from his mouth, but she braced it. If she was afraid of some mouth water-projectiles, how was she supposed to gather up the courage for the road ahead?

She had expected her parents to protest, bringing up the dangers of the road, her "maidenhood", and any other such reasons. She had not expected them to think that she was having a steamy hot affair with her cousin. She felt a little nauseous at the thought.

"It's not like that, Ysmir almighty! I was talking about adventuring, not getting hitched!"

The whole hut was filled with a sort of buzzing anxiety. Who was it? Amina's? Her parents'? Erik's, from three houses down, who felt the impending doom at the hand of Amina's father? We will never know.

Al-Hazem and Hilde relaxed visibly. Amina could almost swear that even the fingers wrapped around his dagger were visibly looser. One could never know, with her father, though. From the desert, and hot-tempered as it, that one. Or so her mother said.

"That is excluded as well. You are not going out, doing Sakatal-knows what, getting eaten by wolves and raped by bandits."

"I agree with your father. Just because Erik is foolish does not mean you have to be, as well."

Amina's hands clutched the table, tears welling in her eyes.

"You know this is what I've always wanted! I've been saving up for an armor for the past two years! I've been telling you I want to explore the world!"

"Pity you're not going to use it. You are not going anywhere, and that's final. Tomorrow I am going to have a nice talk with Erik. By Sakatal, you…an adventurer! You'd get killed by a mudcrab on your way to Whiterun!"

"You'll see, you'll all see. I was born for more than…" she made a sweeping motion with her hand "…this! Tending cows and growing wheat and seeing the days go by, waiting to get married to some boorish peasant!"

"You're not going anywhere, and that's final." Her father said, voice dangerously low.

Amina trembled. "I'd like to see you stop me."

"I'd like to see you try once I lock your things in a chest and not give you any supplies for the road."

"Mother!" She yelled, "Talk to him! You know this is what I am meant to do! Not tending crops! Not chasing chickens! You were like that too, once!"

Her mother shook her head, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Turning to her husband, she said: "She keeps the armor under her bedroll."

"Traitor! I hate you!"

Amina didn't see her mother's slap coming. Neither did her father.

No more words were said that night. Al-Hazem stormed the house, and put Amina's armor under lock and key. In the background, Amina's sobs, like the song of a bard who didn't know anything about his job.

She'd show them. Oh, she'd show them alright. If they thought that was the last of this argument, oh boy, were they wrong.

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Under the blanket of night, Amina snuck out of the common room and down into the basement. She knew she had no time to spare. Her father, a light sleeper, and her mother, awakening all the time at odd hours, posed quite a challenge. The favors were against her, but by Ysmir, she'd make this night hers.

She almost had half a mind to pray for Nocturnal's favour, but Daedra worshipping in general left her with a strange taste in her mouth.

She had her suspicions about Rorikstead and Daedra, truth be told. She knew the town's history: it was a nice "subtle" progression from the worst dirt to farm in to the best dirt someone could get their hands on. To have that happen in Skyrim was nothing short of sorcery. Then there was the issue of objects very out of place.

Too many soul gems for dirt digging, that's for sure. And books, books about everything magic and mystical, all over the place; books of daedra and aedra, of lost legends and mighty wizards. Why, she had half a mind to become a wizard herself, to spite both of her parents.

Enough of wizardry. She shook her head, gathering her thoughts. Her pigtails whipped her in the eyes and she almost cried out. Having hair in your eyes was definitely not pleasant. Back to lockpicking, and adventuring, yes…

The lockpick in her hand felt cold. She thought that if she could chew it, it would taste like adventure and kin-treason. Delightful, delicious and sinful. Every lock in town knew her touch, every chest felt the feathered caress of her fingers. She never stole anything, but she'd opened them and closed them time and time again, just for the thrill.

"I knew my pseudo-thieving would help me someday." Beyond staving off boredom and sending the locals into a fret, there's not much lockpicking can do aside from being used for thieving skills, in the end…now is it?

With expert movements, she listened for the lock's heartbeat.

There is a certain art in lockpicking, and it's best done in silence, where you can hear the clicks and clacks of the mechanism. Locks have an inner orchestra, and your lockpick must be finely attuned to it, or else it breaks. Moreover, dear reader, lockpicks are truly hard to come by in an honest town like Rorikstead.

The chest finally opened with a satisfying click. She smiled as she stuffed her armour in her knapsack. She rummaged through it to see if she had got everything: her journal, her favourite book (The Dragonborn's Book), some lockpicks, empty bottles and flasks for potions that once housed mead and wine.

She made her way to the door, silently saying goodbye to the house and inhabitants. She looked at her sleeping parents. They'd know where she'd gone, but best leave a note…

"Am off adventuring. I'll seeyou soon, come spring. I'll return with some septims and pretty things I find in my travels. Hope your sour mood will wear off till then! I love you! I'll be fine.

- Amina"

She grabbed the few notes her parents had written, menial things like counting the crops and who bought what. They had their handwriting, and so, she stuffed them in her knapsack's pockets as a reminder. The amulet from her mother hung loosely around her thin neck.

She watched her sleeping parents' faces. Feeling swelled up in her chest, but she didn't know if it was that of a goodbye childhood, or hello world. She'd have to find out.

The night air felt cool on her skin, the smell of grass, pungent, riding the breeze. Messer and Secunda were both full, covering the sky whole. She couldn't think of a better night to start her new life.

Once at Frostfruit Inn, she let out a huge sigh.

Mralki was still up, of course, tending the bar as usual. Erik was in one corner, already geared up, dozing off.

"Take a seat, girl. What are you doing up so late?"

She felt her ears redden. "My parents finally gave me permission to travel the world, like Erik does."

Mralki looked up from the tankard he was cleaning. She suddenly felt completely naked and exposed. Her face was on fire.

"Did they now?" He sighed, rubbing his forehead, his eyes somewhere far away for a brief moment. "Well then, you'd better make haste before they wake up."

"How did you..?" Amina's jaw dropped just a little. Who was this stranger in Mralki's skin? Was he possessed by some unknown daedra who had stripped him from his over-protectiveness of folk and kin?

"I've learned, since my son has become an adventurer… that you cannot keep children from doing what they want. So go, seek your fortune. Keep Erik near, he'll keep you safe."

Amira smiled, and hugged him over the bar. Mralki's face softened into a small smile, and patted the girl on the head.

"Just like your mother, back in the days. Here, take these provisions, and go wake up Erik."

"Uncle, can I use you to send notes back and forth with my parents? If they get over me leaving, that is…"

"Of course. Why not send a courier directly, though?"

"I fear my father might maul him in trying to make him tell him where I am. If there's anything left after mother is done weeping in his shirt and demanding answer, that is."

"Ah, true, true. Good thing you didn't inherit any of your parents' love for hysterics. Good folk, short of temper though. Incredible how your mother could swing an axe and weep at the same time. Never seen stronger a woman cry so openly…at everything..."

Amina laughed, and felt a slight pang in her chest. Oh, she'd miss them. She'd miss them a lot, alright. She had a life to live, though! A country to see, perhaps a whole continent, even more! There was more to life than cattle and turnips, and she'd had quite the fair share of those in the past 17 years.

Erik stretched groggily from his seat, yawning and running a hand through his hair. His red hair was mused and sticking in odd angles on one side. It was longer than last time she'd seen him, but it suited him. Made him look older, more rugged, fitting for an adventurer.

Wandering the country and slashing away at it had done her cousin well. He stood up straighter, spoke louder, lived fiercer. His thighs were now as wide as her waist, his back a true wall. He had grown up to be the kind of Nord people talked about in legends, tall as a tree and sturdy as one.

She had seen him come and go out of the town on different occasions, these past few months. As winter drew near, Erik came back more and more often. Every time he went, his father's heart broke and swelled with pride at the same time. Erik came back every time with knowledge, and stories from the road. He'd always been a curious child, but now it seemed he wanted to swallow the wonders of the world whole.

He'd bring her books and and spell tomes, as well as stories from his travels. And if they were a little bloodied or dusty, she didn't mind. Erik loved books as much as she did, and she guessed that their curiosity was the cause of their restlessness. While literacy is common in Skyrim's farming folk, wonder for the world isn't.

Under the guise of the night, she'd secretely learned how to light a candle with only her fingers, make light out of thin air, heal cuts and bruises. If it hadn't been Erik and his adventuring ways, his love for books and him knowing her secret of loving magic, she would've never even realized she had the ability.

She owed to Erik more than he could imagine.

Erik let out a long yawn, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"Ready to go?"

"Yeah, but…look, they didn't let me go. They thought we were going to get married, can you believe that? How disgusting, we're cousins!"

Erik shrugged. "Not that far-fetched, wouldn't be the first. But don't worry, cousin, you're not my type anyway."

Amina snorted. "Ew. Who would marry their cousin? By law, cousins are annoying to each other."

"We're not that bad."

"Yeah, but we're special. We're made of different stuff!"

Ërik laughed "Of course, made from the bowels of Nirn to save the day!"

Amina's laughter died pretty quickly, as she looked over at the stolen pack in her arms.

"Will they forgive me…eventually?"

"Of course they will. Father did, and you know how he was. Now get dressed and let's go, a chaperon mission was just what I needed to get more field experience!"

So she did.

Their laughter could be heard all across the street as they ran out of Rorikstead. Parents be damned, adventure was waiting!

Little did Amina know that adventuring wasn't really as glamorous as it seemed. It was, though, as exciting as it said on the tin.

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Author's note:

Thanks for reading!

First chapter practically wrote itself. Of course, in the original playthrough with the Live Another Life mod I just woke up in a room with Erik following me. That wouldn't have made good story material, now would it.

A huge shout-out to the Live Another Life mod by Arthmoor, without whom this fanfiction would not exist. You can find it on the Skyrim Nexus at skyrim/mods/9557/