AN: Remembering the first time I played Skyrim a few years back, I thought about this lonely-looking girl Idgrod the Younger, and was a little disappointed by the lack of interactions with her. Except the short and non-rewarding quest regarding her brother. I am currently re-playing Skyrim, the Special Edition, and decided to give this lonely girl some adventures of her own.
Warnings were given in the summary. Keep reading at your own risk.
I do not own Skyrim or anything related to it!
She lit her pipe with a small flicker of fire from her fingers, placed the mouthpiece between her lips and inhaled slowly, breathing deeply with her stomach. The glowing tobacco caressed her face for a moment with dim, yellow light, before fading away and allowing the darkness to swallow her up once again. She exhaled, and smoke from both the frost and the pipe seeped out of her lungs, finding its way through her mouth and nostrils with a deep sigh of relief.
Her head fell back a little and rested against the wall while she repeated the action and allowing her neck to relax. Closing her eyes, she slowly savored every breath.
It was a bad habit, she knew that very well. And yet, it was something she had managed to keep away from everyone, even Joric, her baby brother that she took care of.
This was her time. Her very own secret and one of few things she allowed herself to indulge in, out of complete selfishness. Some people thought it to be a disgusting thing, and especially when women did it. It was simply unheard of.
But to Idgrod the Younger it was a sweet relief, her way of finding sanctuary after a long day tending to everyone else besides herself. Her days had been very long for many years.
Her brother Joric had the visions. The same as their mother did. Some said he was sick, others said crazy. Only a few people understood, like Danica in Whiterun. Danica used to send potions on a regular basis, to keep Joric sane. To keep him here, with them. And not there… Wherever that was…
Idgrod shifted a little and bent her knee, placing her foot on the crate she sat on, resting her entire backside to the wall of Highmoon Hall. She took another deep breath of tobacco, and the remnants of a soft smile crossed her face. She thought about Joric, the baby brother she loved beyond anything else. She didn't really mind taking care of him. Still… she had wanted so many things for herself.
Idgrod had dreamt about adventures, exploring opportunities, breathtaking beauty, and dangerous missions. She had read books about glory, brave men and women who fought for what they believed to be honorable and right. The bards that passed through Morthal had sung about faraway places, different people in different lands. And Idgrod had dreamt about it, fantasized that she could hear the men roar, smell the burned ground and taste the victorious ale. She had wanted it all, desperately eager to experience the world and everything in it.
But then Joric was born, and eventually she had stopped dreaming. Now, Morthal felt more like a prison than a home, and she would even have settled for marriage, if only her mother would allow it. But those things were not for her.
In a different world, Joric could have received real help. He could have stayed with someone who would know how to treat him, teach him to control his visions. And Idgrod herself could have been allowed education at the College of Wintherhold, nursing and developing her skills as a sorcerer. But no… After all, she was a Nord, and Nords with magical abilities were very rare. Not to mention that her mother was the Jarl of Hjaalmarch, and the people of Hjaalmarch were suspicious towards magic in the first place. The Jarl's position was fragile enough already, and the Jarl didn't want her family to make it worse.
Idgrod the Younger snorted inwardly to this. It didn't make sense. It would have been wiser to send her and Joric away, would it not? Unfortunately, their father supported his wife in everything, and she had long ago discovered that it did not do any good talking to him about her wants.
With a small sigh, she continued smoking her pipe, forcing her mind to empty itself from the dark shadows that always seemed to creep around at the corners of her conscience.
Sneaking out like this in the middle of the night wasn't that hard. Sha had long ago discovered a hidden backdoor in the Jarls longhouse, and since the front entrance was always guarded, Idgrod used this hidden door every time she needed some peace and quiet. She didn't think anyone knew about the door, not even Gorm, their housecarl. If anyone knew, they never mentioned it.
Idgrod finished her tobacco, carefully banging out the ashes and leftovers against the bricks in the foundation of the house. It was a cold night, like most nights in Hjaalmarch. The clouds didn't allow the moon to light up their little town. She turned to face the wall, searching with her hands for the door that she had to push to get up. She knew that in daylight, it was barely visible. You had to know it was there to even recognize the outlines of something that resembled a door.
A small sound met her ear, barely a creak in the snow, alerted her to a presence behind her, and before she could even turn to look upon whoever it was, something hard hit her head and left her in numb darkness.