Just the Cook

by greensocks4

Orgnar sees many things, being the barkeep for the Sleeping Giant Inn and all, though the one sight he cherishes most doesn't see him the same way.

I'm just the cook.

I see strangers of all types come through the Sleeping Giant Inn. Soldiers, stopping by for a mug of mead to take their mind off the war. Mages, sitting by the fire with their nose in a book. Farmers, hands dirty and calloused, clapping to the songs of the bard. Adventurers, resting up before they depart once again to follow their hearts. All of them leading their lives, making memories that they will one day tell as stories. But not me.

I'm just the cook.

'Heard any rumours lately?' they ask me. 'Can I rent a room?' they hand me ten septims. All the while I smile and nod, wasting my life away. My life; so tedious, uninteresting, consistent. No adventure, no memories, no stories. I'll never have any of those.

I'm just the cook.

Delphine. 'Watch the inn while I'm gone, Orgnar'. I've heard this more than enough times. Delphine. She can just walk out, go on an adventure with some lowlife who just walks in. I can't do that. She greets them and then takes them to her room. I've never even been in there!

I'm not jealous. Just annoyed that some creep she just met seems so much more important to her than I am. That this milk-drinker can sweep her away from me and take her on an adventure. They're her partner in adventure, her friend and ally; they're somebody to Delphine.

And I'm just the cook.

That's all I'll ever be. To myself, to the visitors, to Delphine. Never somebody of importance, never someone with an interesting story to tell. No, not me.

I'm just the cook.