Thawing a Thalmor
By Daedric Scribe
Chapter One: The decision
Eris Wulfgar was finally glad to be alone away from the roaring cheers and the flickering candlelights. She'd toasted the damn Ulfric Stormcloak 15 times, drinking enough ale to stagger an ordinary Nord. But her was no ordinary Nord. She was the Dragonborn. And in seven days time, she would carry her sword against the evil dragon Alduin.
She closed the door of her small room in the Candlehearth Inn.
"Four days," she said aloud to the strange bed covered in a bear skin. "In four days I will rest my head in Sovngarde forever."
Suddenly, tears welled in her brown eyes. She was too young to think of Sovngarde. She had enough coin from thieving and mercenary work that she could live in the lap of luxury for the rest of her long days. She could find women to lie with, men to drink with and more trade caravans to rob.
She slammed the tankard down on the rickety table. It tipped from the uneven legs. The ale splashed up to soak her fancy tunic that she was wearing. And the tears still poured from her eyes. The scars on her hands were not those of a 24-year-old woman. They were those of a 42-year-old soldier.
"Scars plenty," she slurred.
There was a knock at her door. She opened to reveal a gorgeous, short dark elf covered in nothing but the pelt of a snow bear.
"Nina!" Eris said in surprise.
Nina searched the woman's face and ended in a pout. "You don't look happy to see me, Eris. Sleeps-on-Shield paid good money to send me to you."
Eris grimaced slightly, making Nina narrow her eyes. "Is someone already here?" Though she was a slight elf, she barreled past the Dragonborn, who was a head taller than her. "Is that filthy Barbayne here—for free!"
Nina whirled around the room. She threw the open the doors of the tall wardrobe, expecting to find her chief rival for Windhelm's affections there.
Meanwhile, Eris dropped her head, failing to move from her spot at the door. The last two words echoed in her head: for free... for free… "Scars aplenty," she said in a raspy voice. "But no tenderness that coin does not buy."
Nina snapped to the Dragonborn. "What did you say?"
The warning siren in her fuzzy brain went off, but Eris was still too encumbered by the ale to hear it. "I said I want tenderness that I don't have to buy."
"Tenderness? You want fucking tenderness?"
When Eris did not respond to twisting of her features and the fire in her voice, Nina picked up a wooden plate and gestured menacingly at the woman. "Even wives aren't free, you stupid milk drinker!"
"Adrienne and Ulfberth are happy."
Nina stopped mid throw and furrowed her brow. "Who the hell are Adrienne and Ulfberth?"
"Adrienne taught me about smithing in Whiterun. They are happy."
Nina growled and tossed the wooden plate. It spun like a top, arcing its flight toward Eris' red hair. Its rounded corner found her temple.
Eris slammed her eyes closed and rubbed her head. "Why did you do that, Nina?"
"Because!" she growled. "Because happiness doesn't find you, s'wit! You find it!"
Eris froze for a second with the thought. "I find happiness?"
"Do you think I'd have a house of my own in Morrowind?"
"Yes, I believe—"
"You're wrong! I'd have a house with a husband. I'd have children suckling my breast till they were stretched socks-with-rocks."
She went to her tiptoes to meet the Dragonborn's eyes. "By Boethiah, I but I left that lava pit! Here I am today with my own hearth inside my own four walls. And I have enough self-respect to go tell Sleeps-on-Shield that he can forget about this lousy job. And I'll throw his damn money in his face. So how do you like them cabbages, you sorry snow-back!"
She lifted her chin and with all the dignity she could muster half naked, Nina sauntered from the room.
Eris did not move, but listened until she could no longer hear the whore's creaking footsteps on the old wood floor. Nina was right. She glanced at the room she'd just paid good gold for and politely closed the door quietly behind her as she entered the hallway.
If she hurried, she could be in Solitude three days. Faster, if she used the thu'um for sprinting.
