((My first one-shot, with possibilities.))
The year is 224. The Dragondborn has killed Alduin, aided Jarl Ulfric, and then suddenly disappeared. Some say she is in hiding, others say she has died. Where is the hero? While vampires and dragons still lurk, Skyrim calls for it's Bonecrusher! However, Darinya Rose-Blade is just a girl from Riverwood. But what happens when her parents die, and she leaves to live with her Aunt Lydia in Whiterun?
Morndas 16th of Rains Hand. Year 224 4E
Dear Diary,
Getting up was hard today. It's hard everyday. I have dreams of my parents that feel so real, that I'm almost in shock when I get up, and find myself in the basement of Alvor and Sigrids house. If I could die and dream forever, I'd rather not wake at all. I think Sigrid feels like she needs to be there for me, but she doesn't understand where I'm coming from. Alvor doesn't know what to say, so he just gives me jobs to do around the forge when I come to him. Dorthe is a brat, but what can I do about it? Alvor is just a close family friend. I don't feel like I belong here anymore.
I wrote to Aunt Lydia a while ago, about my situation with Alvor and his family. I'm expecting a reply by tomorrow. Hopefully she will have room for me in her house in Whiterun. I've never been, but she says it's kind of plain. I don't care. I haven't been anywhere beyond Riverwood. At 23 that fact is embarrassing. Especially since my parents were adventurers. Momma said she came here from Valenwood when she was 13. Pappa had been a Companion in Jorrvaskr. And me? I'm just a girl in Riverwood, working as a woodcutter for Hod.
I want to see the world. Faendal has been around Skyrim. He's seen Kahjiit caravans, fought as allies with Argonians, shot arrows at dragons. He's even helped the Dragonborn. I admit I don't know if I have the constitution for battle, but I know I feel the desire for adventure. I like Faendal. But not many people like him. Hilde especially. She blabs on and on about how anyone who isn't a Nord is not worth the wast of air to keep them alive. Hilde really hated my mother for just being a Bosmer. She never used my mothers name. Instead of 'Alawen' she'd say 'You Elf'. Hilde stayed away from Poppa. It's because he didn't take her crap. If you walked into a room where she was blabbering and she heard someone say 'Jervar' she'd immediately shut it. Sometimes I'd say his name weather or not Poppa was in the room, just to see her jump.
I miss Poppa. I miss when he and I would go hunting. I was a pretty good shot. But I don't know if I'll ever be as good as Momma. She could hit a bear, dead shot, at 300 yards. I was fortunate enough to see it happen. It was a week before their lives ended by the hands of bandits. A bear had killed a farmer so they asked my Momma if she could help shoot it. I tagged along, against her wishes. Hiding in the brush. She found it by a house, scratching at the door. It took one shot and it fell. I never told her that I saw her shoot the bear. I was too afraid she might be upset with me. Poppa knew. But he kept it quiet, just as long as I didn't do that again. He and I were like that. Buddies.
Aunt Lydia and I were worse. We got in trouble, climbed boulders, skinned knees, and cause Momma a world of worry. I loved it when she came to visit. I can't wait to see her again. I hope she can bring me back to world with a smile. Right now I don't have much to smile about. It's been 4 months since the funeral and I have not truly laughed. Just fake smiles.
Anyway, it's late. This is my last candle before I have to get more. I don't want to waste the light.
Darinya blew out the light, setting her brown leather journal in the shelf beside her. She curled up in her fur blankets and fell asleep, in the cold of the basement.
((Be kind. This is my first post ever on here. I hope I didn't scar your soul.))