I don't own Skyrim! Bethesda does! Shocker, I know. Required Disclaimers- because all us fans need to know you really aren't the corporate entity producing our entertainment.
"Hey." The short Imperial girl grinned up at the Dovahkiin.
The sung hero of legends made no response. In fact, the Dovahkiin hadn't so much as twitched from her spot when she discovered the short Imperial had managed to creep up behind her, a trained assassin, on the road.
In broad daylight, no less.
Only briefly had the Dovahkiin stopped to talk to M'aiq, a strange Khajiit who always had something interesting to pass on. When she had bade the Khajiit farewell, she turned around to find an Imperial had suddenly appeared behind her. She was supposed to be a master of shadows.
So how in the name of Talos..?
"What's up?"
The Dragonborn's eyebrows knitted in confusion under Volsung's mask. It was rather odd for townsfolk to actually start a conversation rather than pass small talk. From the look of the girl, she was most likely townsfolk. She carried no weapons, and her simple clothing consisted of a dark blue dress and apron. Add the belt hanging on her hips, holding a few satchels for coin and personal effects, and that was the extent of her inventory. The girl herself wasn't unusual; the dark hair, brown eyes and strong jaw screamed Imperial. True, the Imperial was short for her race, but it was likely the result of mixed heritage, along with her snub nose. After all, the Imperials' famed silver tongues had helped make many of wide-ranging traits.
Actually, wasn't it rather unusual for anyone other than merchants or mercenaries to be traveling in the middle of the civil war? Never mind the dragons flying about. The Dragonborn regarded the Imperial shortly before mentally shrugging and continuing down the road. Cicero had been particularly insistent on fresh sweetrolls.
"Whoa, hey, where ya going?"
The Imperial girl had jogged up to Dragonborn and kept pace with her larger stride.
"You know, I thought you would reply, or nod, or hell, a Fus! Normally you at least talk to people who start the conversation! Kinda means they're important, ya know." She glared.
The Dragonborn stopped in her tracks and turned to face the girl.
"Hello."
She then promptly turned and kept walking, causing the smile on the girl's face to die before it had even finished forming. The Imperial gaped at the retreating armor-clad back before clenching her fists in indignation.
"You stop right there Myrvana!" The Imperial shouted.
That caused the Dragonborn to freeze in her tracks. Slowly, the dark elf turned, fixing the Imperial with her gaze. Behind the mask, her red eyes were suspicious.
"That's right, I know your name, unlike anyone else in this damned province. I also know you're a Dunmer, and a spellsword, and you favor axes and… well, actually, pretty much everything else about you." The Imperial declared, waving her pointer at the armed and armored Dunmer.
"And guess what?" The Imperial belted out the question like a challenge.
The Dunmer refused to humor her.
"You're. Stuck. With me." The Imperial said with a growing smirk.
The Dragonborn rolled her eyes at the notion. As if the Imperial saw it behind the mask, the Imperial frowned, replying,"You should know by now when you've been roped into something."
There was an awkward silence as the Dragonborn decided how to deal with the excitable Imperial, expression twisting into a frown under Volsung.
"...Kid, why don't you go home? You're an incredible investigator; so run home and tell of your exploits," The hero dismissed with shooing motions to the Imperial.
"Why don't you have a nice bowl of shut the fuck up?" Was the prompt suggestion.
The Dragonborn's fingers twitched, a slow growl emerging from her throat. How dare this townsperson talk down to her like this?
The Imperial was unfazed and continued in her commanding, Cyrodiilic accent.
"When was the last time you did a quest? Finished a job for the Companions? Fulfilled your duty as Listener? You've been laying on your ass, dammit," came the Imperial reprimand.
The Dunmer struggled to respond.
"You - how do you - what do you mean"-
"I already told you, I know. I know everything."
No longer amused, the Dragonborn determined that an interrogation was in order. She drew her war axe and advanced slowly, fire spell spewing flame in her left hand.
"Oh, decided I'm a threat now?" The Imperial's tone was sour.
"You're lucky you didn't shout in a city, or you'd be dead by now," The Dragonborn threatened.
The Imperial rolled her eyes.
"Don't tell me you're actually making an effort to hide your identity. Now? Bit late for that when you went traipsing about Whiterun in Dark Brotherhood armor."
The assassin hesitated, thinking.
"It- I had a mask! Only my eyes were exposed!"
Was that how her cover had been blown? But she was never followed to the sanctuaries and it was so long ago...
"Yeah, and your trademark bright red eyeshadow. Along with your straight, pointy eyebrows. Don't forget those."
The Dovahkiin lifted her glass axe, patience wearing thin.
"If you're such a smartass, you'll know what Dark Brotherhood assassins do to threats."
Intimidate check: Failed.
"I dare you. I double dare you." The Imperial nodded at a guard coming down the road.
"I triple dog dare you, fetcher." She grinned.
Whirling around, the Dovahkiin cursed seeing the guard; it was time to rethink.
"Well Imperial, I'll make you an offer." The Dunmer sheathed her weapons. "I know important people. You know that. You also know I'm hideously rich from adventuring. What's your price?"
The Imperial, smirking, shook her head.
"You'd slit my throat as soon as I turn my back."
"I'd never break an agreement."
"Says the Dunmer."
"I'm willing to settle this peaceably."
"Says the assassin."
"You know so much about me- you can tell when I'm telling the truth." The assassin pressed. "Take my offer."
Persuasion check: Failed.
The Imperial gave a small chuckle.
"Sorry Dovahkiin. The only thing I'm interested in is getting you whipped into shape."
The Imperial approached the Dragonborn, stopping an arm's length away.
"Here you are," the Imperial held out both arms wide to the Dunmer, presenting her case, "a prophesied hero, a legend, Harbinger, Listener, thane throughout most of Skyrim, and what are you doing?"
She put one hand one her hip, flinging the other into the air dismissively, scorn written plainly on her face.
"Running domestic tasks. For Go- Talos knows who."
"What's wrong with that?" The Dragonborn's tone made it perfectly clear she thought such tasks were important.
The Imperial's face morphed into one of outraged disbelief.
"Talos, woman, listen to yourself! Lives are at stake! Odhaviing is trapped in Dragonsreach, waiting to take you to Sovngarde itself, and here you are, picking flowers!"
The small Imperial had taken an aggressive stance, glaring holes into the Dragonborn's mask, hands on her hips, clawing at the fabric in aggravation.
"I- I'm not ready. I can't fight Alduin just yet." Came the surprised reply.
"Don't give me that shit. You're ready, damn you!" The Imperial promptly decreed.
"Look at you," She forcefully gestured at the Dovahkiin, "You're covered in dragon scale armor! You have enough health potions to start a business, and your Restoration skill is through the roof! You're also a freaking demigod with an axe and could qualify as a ninja- so tell me! Why aren't you on your way to fight the World-Eater!"
"I need more time"-
A table materialized between the two, which the Imperial promptly flipped over.
"OBLIVION TAKE YOU!"
The Dunmer jumped backwards out of the way as the table gained a weightless three seconds of air time before crashing into the dirty cobblestones. She stared at it silently as it lay in the road.
The Imperial shook her head and started massaging her temples, sighing.
"This is what happens when I let you wander around Skyrim by yourself for too long... God, this is awful. You're practically an NPC, scripted for mundane tasks..."
Myrvana looked up from the table and replied in that tone again:
"What's wrong with what I'm doing?"
The Imperial gave a glare and flung her hand at Myrvana's face, as if throwing something. A large, worn boot immediately materialized high in the air, on a crash course with Volsung.
It hit the Dragonborn square between the eyes just as she looked up.
"I have this theory, that if I hit you enough times on the head, that you'll stop acting like retarded AI, and get into the role of the PC. So far, it only serves to be entertaining." The Imperial folded her arms.
Myrvana had leaned backwards from the force of the boot, then stiffened. The Dunmer giggled insanely in a low tone, as slowly, she reached up to pluck the worn boot and quickly hurled it in the human's direction. The girl leaned her head to the side as the footwear sailed past.
"By Sithis, I should gut you now." The Dragonborn's voice had reached an alarmingly low note, one which reminded the Imperial of the growl of large cats.
The human only seemed amused by the Dragonborn's patience truly snapping.
"...So you can make one-liners! We're already on the right track. Provocation works well, it seems."
"I will provoke the Divines themselves when they witness what I'll do to you."
"Hmm. Heading a bit too far towards the 'Lucien' side of the Dark Brotherhood. Mind, that's where things really start getting emo, and next thing you know, the super Mary-Sues pop up like cockroaches. You know, the chicks that try to set themselves up with everything and everyone," The Imperial rambled, talking with her hands. The pointing, waving and flicking only frustrated the Dunmer further- as though the elf was supposed to know the nonsense this girl was spewing.
"What in Oblivion are you talking about!"
"Oh! I need to get you on track! Lemme see your journal!" The Imperial made fast 'gimmie' gestures, eyes expectant.
"To the Void." Myrvana hissed.
"Don't be like that. Please?"
"I would never lend my private effects to someone I despise."
"Come on," the Imperial pleaded.
"The answer is no. Leave my sight before I gut you; I'd gladly pay the bounty for murdering you, because it would be worth it."
The Imperial glared at the immobile Dragonborn like a child being denied.
"Fine."
Still holding eye contact with the Dragonborn, the girl held out her hand.
Start
Myrvana's journal materialized in it before the elf's stunned eyes. The Dragonborn did a quick search of her person which revealed that her journal was gone, and most likely, in the human's hand.
"How did you do that? I saw no spells!" The Dunmer accused.
"Because I can," The Imperial answered snidely, a smirk tugging at her mouth, "Now let's keep walking to..." The Imperial quickly flipped through Myrvana's journal.
"Markarth. I am walking to Markarth and if you want to come along, you'd better hand over that journal."
"Says you. I'm almost positive you wouldn't be able to keep me from getting it if I wanted it. In fact, I could just give it back to you, then have it appear in my hand as soon as you put it away."
Myrvana sighed, conceding the point. It would seem that a certain breach of privacy was inevitable. Even if she were to start a new journal, the infuriating Imperial would probably be able to magick that one out of thin air too.
"I will interrogate you once we reach Markarth. If it wasn't for the fact I'm both on a schedule and sick of the road, I would have already dragged you off into the wilderness." Myrvana muttered, trudging down the road.
A look of alarm crossed the Imperial's face.
"Already a homebody... this is turning out to be worse than expected." The girl grimaced, and started flipping through Myrvana's journal furiously.
Myrvana tried to ignore the Imperial's intrusion, on multiple levels, and turned her thoughts to what sort of common flowers she could bring home. She had developed an affinity for the quiet hobby of tending to flowers lately. She wasn't sure where it came from, but she didn't question her content. Which was strange, when she thought about how much more satisfaction she got by being out and about Skyrim. But lately, Myrvana hadn't felt any drive to do any heroic deeds. The Dragonborn watched a butterfly flutter by as though hypnotized.
Behind her back, the Imperial facepalmed.
Author's Note: Please review and tell me what you think, I'd love to make this a great read for everyone. If you have any ideas that you think would be funny, shoot. :) I had to edit this a few times before I was satisfied not much else could be changed. I try to make this a balance between Skyrim and the modern world, including the humorous plot convenience of a Mary-Sue. You knew there was going to be a little Mary-Sue. Don't hurt me. Or your computer.
Anyway, thank you for reading!