I still don't have my Skyrim game back yet, so I can't get anywhere in plot, but here's some fluffy stuff for anyone who cares to read it. There'll be a bit of action next chapter, but still no real plot, I'm afraid.
The sun was setting just behind the city of Whiterun, hitting it in just a way that it doused the world around her in an auburn hue and a dusk chill settled subtlety in the air. Whiterun seemed like an ideal city; fortified behind its strong walls and perched on a hilltop, with the palace at its peak.
A peaceful tranquility seemed to settle gently over the world as the day neared its end, as well as the Dragonborn. She simply sat; her eyes gazed absentmindedly into the orange glow of the sun and noticed faintly the dim moons above her grew slowly brighter. Her arm resting, with a half finished sweet roll in hand, against her propped up knee and she just gazed out across the field. A rare relaxation settled over her.
Distantly, her mind quietly implored her to go; quietly reminded her of her tasks. But another, slightly stronger will, shushed away the reason and indulged in the rest.
Finally, after the quiet battle in her mind carried on for a few minutes, she sided with the former and drew in a sharp breath, casting her eyes away from the scene fit for a painting. She forced herself to break from calming, trance-like state that she knew would consume her until long after nightfall.
She placed the last of her sweet roll in her mouth, before climbing from the stiff and lightly yellowed grass and returning her weight to her feet. Quickly running an attentive hand over herself, she dusted off stray blades of grass as her other hand swung down and caught up her leather bag, filled with all her rations, in one swift movement and carelessly slung it over her shoulder.
Shadowmere grazed calmly nearby and didn't bother to acknowledge the Dragonborn as she stepped to his side. She flipped open the saddle bags hanging from his back and placed her rations inside, then tied the leather strip tightly over it; to be sure it was secured shut.
Smiling faintly, the Breton ran a delicate, but certainly strong hand over Shadowmere's thick coat and patted him affectionately on his shoulder; feeling his strong muscles move under her touch as he took a step forward. He gave her something of a sideways glance with those glowing red eyes, before he returned to his browned grass and placidly ignored her.
She breathed a short laugh, shaking her head and mumbling something about the obnoxious horse to herself as she took a firm grip on the saddle's horn. She raised her foot to the stirrup and swung herself up onto her black stallion's back in a fluid motion. Shadowmere raised his head to attention and his ears perked up, aiming back to her, as if asking a question.
"We have to be in Whiterun before nightfall." The Dragonborn said plainly as she took the reigns tight in her hand.
Shadowmere snorted softly and flipped his head, as if voicing his displeasure. If he had a choice in the matter, he'd probably prefer to stay in the fields and graze on the frost bitten grass, rather then be confined to a pen at the stables.
The Dragonborn ignored the horse's protests and nudged him gently with her heels, "Come on. Yah!"
The hefty pile of newly acquired Dragon-bones clattered noisily and heavily on the thick, and apparently strong, wooden store counter at Warmaiden's, as the Breton Dragonborn released them from her arms.
"These as well." The Breton took a weary breath and let it out in a sigh as she realized how much lighter her load had become.
The store owner shrugged regrettably, "Besides good conversation, Shepna, these Dragon-bones aren't good for much." Ulfberth War-Bear's gruff voice explained as he studied over the pile.
"But they're Dragon-bones. That must mean they're stronger, maybe even a bit magical?" Shepna supposed, "Maybe a mage could use them - for a potion or something to that effect? I'm sure the wizard in Dragonsreach could find some use for them?"
"Then maybe you could sell 'em to him? I have no use for them." Ulfberth said plainly, crossing his arms.
"Well, perhaps you could re-sell them? Make a fine bit of gold? Or they'd make a nice club, I suppose?" Shepna persuaded.
The pile of Dragon-bones was burdensome on her and the dull pain in her side made it even more difficult to haul them into Whiterun; she certainly didn't to carry them up the numerous flights of steps to the Dragonsreach. She had undoubtedly worked hard to harvest a Dragon's bones, - the dark bruising and tenderness of her ribs could atone to that - and she definitely didn't want to waste anything that could be gained from the battle. A decent amount of gold, even if lesser then she could find elsewhere, was worth it to her.
"Hmm… an interesting proposition…" Ulfberth tipped his head pensively, "There wouldn't be another shop in miles with a 'Dragons club'. Alright, I'll see if Adrinne can make something of them." He finally relented, but the sale wasn't finished yet.
They spent the next few minutes bartering back and forth with each other, trying to settle on a price that suited them both well. Ulfberth was an honest man and Shepna was willing to work with a kind individual, but dragons had only just returned to Skyrim. The suitable value of their effects hadn't been decided.
Eventually, they were able to settle on a fair price and Ulfberth hauled the pile of goods she had sold him into the back room as the Dragonborn took her bagful of gold and tipped her head in a farewell.
Shepna emerged from Warmaiden's, feeling lighter and renewed, now that the findings from her most recent gallivant were properly exchanged for gold. The sky had changed from a bright and flamboyant orange to a dull pink, lightly hidden behind sparse clouds, and she knew nightfall would arrive soon.
She tucked the gold into her pocket and trailed out into the busy market district. Shepna ignored the calls and offers of food stand clerks and store owners she passed by, and kept her eyes forward as she added up her current amount of gold in her head. A brief calculation later, she found herself very pleased with the result.
She finally had enough. After scavenging and selling anything she could get her hands on, as well as saving every gold piece she had, she could finally buy her very own house - along with all the furnishings to go inside it. Now the only task that remained was to speak with the Steward at Dragonsreach, and if all went well, she may even be able to sleep in her own bed by that night.
Ignoring the bustle that surrounded her, the Breton's eyes traveled up the smooth incline to the towering and finely built palace of Dragonsreach that stood at the peak of the city. Only hesitating a moment, she quickly started off into a brisk walk through the crowd, lightly pushing others from her path. As soon as the throng of people had cleared into an open space, she raised her pace into a sprint up the stairs; her Ebony boots making a metallic click against the stone of the steps with each stride.
After making her way up a few flights in rapid speed, her breath was becoming labored and she was becoming anxious and eager to finally have the deed in hand. So, without missing a beat and still at a full run, she filled her lungs with a quick breath and let the strong and powerful force escape from her lips easily.
"Wuld!" A lightning-like crack sounded instantly as she burst through the sound barrier effortlessly; startling all the nearby birds and causing them to leap into flight. New travelers jumped and stared at her in shock and bewilderment, but most of the townsfolk - used to her antics - just shook their heads and continued on with their day.
As the Whirlwind Shout's burst quickly ended, she found herself trotting up the last step to the long stone bridge that lead to the entrance of Dragonsreach. With her destination that much nearer, she quickly picked up her pace and ran the distance.
Her armored legs had carried her nearly halfway, before she let the brewing force within her escape again in a Shout, "Wuld!" And allowed the force to carry her, the same as before.
As the world around her slowed back to normal speed, her breath caught in her throat, her legs locked and she screeched to a halt just barely before she collided with the massive double doors of Dragonsreach. Her eyes went wide in surprise and she stood at a full stop in front of the entrance, with just an inch or two between herself and the thick wooden doors. She felt the warmth of her breath reflecting back onto her as she released the gasp.
She silently scolded herself for not planning that out better and caught the sound of a faint chuckle from a nearby guard. She whipped her head around to glare at him warningly and he quickly gained his composure, but a small smirk still stayed on his lips.
After having a brief discussion with the Steward, she had the deed to her very own house, in Whiterun, in her hand, but was considerably less rich in gold. She was forced to wait in Dragonsreach for nearly three hours, while the Steward had her new home fully refurbished, but she didn't mind much.
Finally, her home was completed and the key was hers.
She entered the house and looked around. A nice flame burned brightly in the fireplace in the sunken floor, lighting up its surroundings. The house's décor included a new, but rather comforting aura as well as a small dining room; plenty of desks, chests and cupboards, and an intricately woven carpet spread out over the wooden floor. She climbed the stairs to the second floor to find a small study, with a desk and an enchanting table. She stepped into the bedroom to find a large and certainly welcoming bed, desks, chairs, and a large washtub.
Feeling filthy from her travels and her recent battles, she settled on a bath and took quick advantage of the fire in the living room to boil some water. After pouring the steaming water into the copper tub, she slipped off her armor piece by piece and took off her helmet, letting her dark brown hair rest softly on her shoulders.
Stepping over to the tub, she caught a glimpse of herself in a nearby mirror and seemed taken back by the sight of herself for the first time in days. Her eyes showed a dark green with a faint blue hue to them and seemed unmarred by the aged, thin, but deep scar that trailed across her right eye and into her eyebrow, slightly disturbing it's shape. Even relaxed, they seemed vigilant.
Careful, elegant, dark burgundy markings trailed from the corners of her eyes, followed her temples and disappeared into her hairline.
Dark bruising showed around her ribs, and only stood as proof to the aching and tender injury that laid beneath the skin.
Pulling away her gaze, she slipped into the warm, inviting and quite heavenly water. Letting the warmth massage her sensitive injury, muscles as she let her mind relax for the first time in days.