Foreward: Anons seriously need to stop putting up such wonderful prompts. This will be a multichapter fic and I'm still looking for a beta. So if you are interested, drop me a line! And with that here's the prompt and the first chapter. Enjoy!

Prompt: [Crack/humor prompt]

So everybody knows about Heimskr right? He's the crazy ranting Talos guy in Whiterun. Anyway, he asks the Dragonborn to escort him on his pilgrimage to all the hidden Talos shrines. The Dragonborn agrees for some reason and they're off for an adventure! Only he doesn't stop talking, which then attracts all sorts of trouble. Like the Thalmor...and bears, bandits,Deadra, giants, Dragons, trolls, bears who work for the Thalmor, ect, ect. Will the Dragonborn escort him to safety, or Fus Ro Dah him off a cliff? It's up to you Author anons!

Ever since she was appointed as M'rasha housecarl, Lydia's days were filled with non-stop adventuring and heroics. Save this person; stop this group of bandits; kill the dragon ravaging our city, et cetera. They were always moving, always traveling from one end of Skyrim to the other, never staying in one place for more than two days- three days tops.

But as the weeks dragged on even the Nord was starting to feel sluggish. When she voiced her aches, the Khajiit just smirked at her. "Come now Lydia," she would taunt, "Where's all that Nord ferocity that I'm used to?" So Lydia sucked it up and continued to follow M'rasha's lead. That is until they returned home and Lydia heard her Thane utter words she never thought she would hear.

"We'll be sticking around for a week," M'rasha announced as she undid her armor.

"Doing deeds for the Jarl," Lydia asked, placing her sword on the weapon rack.

"Nothing like that. We're here just to rest. Besides, I remember someone saying they were tired from all the traveling."

At that point, Lydia could have kissed the woman. Instead, she gave the Betmer a bone crushing hug before running out of the house and towards the inn where she spent the better night reconnecting with friends, drinking, and, well, the last thing she remembered was stealing Sinmir's helmet and Mikael's lute.

But that was yesterday. Today, Lydia walked to the Wind District and sat on one of the benches surrounding the Gildergreen. She leaned back, closed her eyes and relaxed as the sun's warm rays hit her face.

Not even ten minutes had passed when a gruff cough caught her attention. She eased one eye open and saw the stern face of Heimskr. "I need to speak with you urgently," he said as he sat down.

Lydia sighed but she did not move. "What is it Heimskr?"

"Talos came to me last night."

'Oh for the love of…' She was not going to have this…zealot ruin her vacation with his nonsense. Lydia got up from the bench and began to leave. "Goodbye Heimskr."

"Wait!" Lydia felt Heimskr grab onto her wrist. She immediately jerked it away and glared at Heimskr causing him to shrink away. That is when she noticed the look of sincere distress on his face.

'I am so going to regret this.' Lydia slowly took her seat on the bench once more. "Continue."

"When I was sleeping last night I saw the mighty Talos in a dream," the priest explained, "He told me that several of his shrines throughout Skyrim had been desecrated and tasked me to purify them."

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"As you can see I am but a lonely priest of Talos. I am not experienced in fighting. I wish to hire you to accompany me as I cleanse the shrines."

"Sorry Heimskr, I'm not a sell-sword."

He looked like a child who had his sweet roll stomped on by a legion of bears. And then the bears ate it. She put her hand to her head, "Listen, if it were up to me I would wholeheartedly agree and we'd be out there purifying shrines already. But it isn't and the final word lies with M'rasha."

Heimskr's mouth transformed into a hard line. "The cat?" That earned him an angry glare from the woman. His face softened. "My apologies. Is there any way you could convince her?"

Lydia tilted her head to the side. "I doubt she'll agree..."

Heimskr bowed his head and began to pray. Sensing that the conversation was over, Lydia rose from her seat and started for the market. When she reached the stairs she heard Heimskr cry out, "Five thousand Septims."

She stopped and looked at him. "Sorry?"

"I'll pay five thousand for your protection." Almost immediately, warning horns blared in her head. Only those with power and lucky adventurers had that kind of money, not a priest of Talos.

"Don't lie, Heimskr. It's unfitting of a 'holy' man." She started down the stairs but this time was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to the side to see the man only inches behind her.

"I swear to you, on the name of Tiber Septim, if you help me, you will have the reward. Can you please talk to your Thane?" Gone was the usual air of haughtiness and the tone he used for preaching. Lydia sighed and moved his hand off her shoulder. "I'll talk to her but I make no promises."

"Thank you Lydia." He walked away and into his home. Lydia could only sigh. 'M'rasha isn't going to like this in the slightest.'

Unlike her counterpart, M'rasha decided to spend her new-found free time in bed. Fast asleep, she dreamt of the past, the present, and of a weird man in weird clothing. But as she dreamt of events gone and of foxes, she couldn't help but feel uneasy. As if something or someone was watching her. She groaned and clutched the sheets tighter. And then instead of just sensing the presence, she felt it. Someone was in her bed. In a move perfected by time, M'rasha rolled over, sat up and grabbed the intruder's face, digging her nails into the soft flesh while her palms began to rapidly gather heat. "Tell me why I shouldn't burn your face off," she growled.

"Because you'd feel really bad about burning me," said a familiar voice. "Please don't burn me."

M'rasha groaned and released the face of her housecarl. Lydia rubbed her face. "You need to get your nails filed down old lady," she said with a smirk. After she punched the Nord in the shoulder, M'rasha rolled back over and attempted to return to her slumber but Lydia grabbed her shoulder and flipped her back so that she was facing the Nord's body.

"A citizen of Whiterun needs our services," Lydia stated. M'rasha sucked her teeth. "When does someone in Whiterun not need our help?"

Lydia put her hands on her hips, a frustrated look on her face.

"Fine. Who needs the help," the Khajiit asked.

The annoyed look melted into one that was slightly more uncomfortable. "Heimskr."

M'rasha felt her eyes widened. Surely the woman was not talking about the Talos spewing zealot. "I'm sorry. I could have sworn you wanted me to help Heimskr. You know, the same man who called me 'a Thalmor concubine'? But I must be hearing things."

When Lydia's expression didn't change M'rasha resumed her prone position in the bed, grabbed the sheets and pulled it over her head. "Good night Lydia."

She heard a growl and then felt the woman get off the bed. M'rasha closed her eyes thinking she would be able to fall asleep once more and reclaim her title of 'Queen of the Foxes' but that was dashed when the sheets were ripped from her body. She shot up into a sitting position her wild eyes staring at a smug Lydia who held the comfortable blankets in her hands, a smug grin on her face. M'rasha could just get up and take the sheets back but it was already too late. She was wide awake and, even with the comforter in hand, could not go back to sleep.

Defeated, M'rasha gathered her hair and began to twist it into one long braid. "Fine. What does he want?"

Lydia tossed her the blanket. "Protection while he goes on his pilgrimage."

"Where?"

"Several of the Talos shrines in Skyrim."

"Pass." Once her hair was done, M'rasha stepped into some comfortable slippers and headed downstairs.

"He'll pay 5000 Septims." The alchemist almost missed a step. She scratched her chin, thinking of what she could accomplish with so much money, "That's a lot of coin. I wouldn't have to worry about running out of soul gems." But she suddenly shook the thoughts out of her head, "No! I refuse to help that bigot."

She approached the bookcase and scanned the myriads of books. She pulled one out and was about to turn but a pair of hands clasped her shoulders.

"Think of the Daedric armor," Lydia whispered in her ear. M'rasha pursed her lips as the other woman spun her around. She saw the smug grin on the brunette's face. "Think of all the Daedra Hearts you could buy," Lydia continued, "And the Ebony needed. You'll have enough material for two sets of armor!"

The Khajiit bit her lower lips. Ever since a blacksmith in the Reach showed her his technique, M'rasha had been itching to try it out for herself but lacked the proper tools. And Lydia knew how badly she wanted to try and make the armor herself.

She put the book back on the shelf and faced her friend. "Fine. Fine! I'll go…"

Lydia's grin widened. "You won't be sorry." She turned to leave but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"You didn't let me finish," M'rasha stated. Lydia's smile faltered and she eyed her friend suspiciously. "I will go on one condition."

Lydia's eyes narrowed and she asked, "What is the condition?"

M'rasha gave the Nord a grin of her own. "Well for the past few weeks I've been working on a new spell of sorts." She noticed Lydia's immediate uneasiness. "Nothing major mind you. Just a small Alteration spell. I haven't perfected it just yet but when I do I'll need a volunteer to test it out on."

"So what do you say? I help Heimskr. You help me." She held out her hand to the warrior. "Do we have a deal?"

Lydia frowned at M'rasha's hand. "And that is the only way?"

"Afraid so."

The Nord sighed and shook M'rasha's hand, not fully realizing what she had gotten herself into. "Deal."

Heimskr was nervous. Hours before, he was told by Lydia that the cat would help him and that he should meet her in the inn after sunset. That was only minutes ago but to the priest, it felt like hours. As he stared into his soup, his mind started to wander. Maybe Lydia had tricked him and lied about the cat wanting to meet. A cough caused him to look up and he was surprised to see M'rasha stand before him.

"Khajiit."

The Betmer's eyes narrow. "M'rasha."

"My apologies." He did not want to do anything to annoy the woman. He motioned her to sit at the empty chairs across from them. "Lydia has told me of your pilgrimage," M'rasha rested her arms on the table, "Do you know exactly where we are headed?"

"So you will help me?"

"I would think my presence here would have answered your question. Now the map."

Heimskr grinned and pulled a map from his robes and handed her a large piece of paper, "Here's a map of the locations."

She stared at the map for a long time not speaking to the priest. Heimskr started to get nervous and with good reasons. The shrines were spread out all over the country, some as far north as Ysgramor's Tomb and others as south near the Cyrodiil-Skyrim border.

But his fears were quashed when pointed at the nearest Shrine and began to drag her finger to the next one. "It will be faster if proceed clockwise through Skyrim," she explained and then tapped at the shrine at Ysgramor's Tomb, "I'll commission a ship to pick us up there and sail us to Windhelm and then we'll continue as normal. Any objections?"

The high priest was very surprised at the woman's plan. "That seems capable."

"Now that our travel route has been mapped out you need to listen and listen well," M'rasha leaned over, "You have hired us to protect you. That means if we say for you to do something, you do it. No discussion, no arguments and no drawing attention to yourself. Do you understand?"

Heimskr returned the hard stare. "I do," he said seriously.

M'rasha sat back looking satisfied. "Good. Now about your robes."

"What's wrong with my robes," the man asked.

"They're not going to protect you if we have to fight."

"I'll make due in my robes," he said curtly.

M'rasha sighed. "Very well. And your weapon?"

The Nord pulled out a small and rather worn blade and held it out for M'rasha to see, "I have this dagger."

M'rasha took the dagger and examined it for a few moments before passing it back. "You need a new one."

"I've had this dagger for more than a decade!"

"Which is why you need a new one. It's dull, and so brittle I wouldn't be surprised if it broke if I put it against a grindstone. I'll have Avenicci create one for you. Make sure to prepare a bag of supplies: potions, food and the like. We leave in five days at daybreak."

"Thank you," he grabbed the woman's hand and shook it firmly. "May Talos guide us to glory."

M'rasha rose from her seat and left but not without saying, "I hope so."

To be continued...