Prompt: Marksman
Focus: Mixed


KA-CHUNK. Thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, KA-CHUNK. Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, KA-CHUNK. Thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, KA-CHUNK. Forty-one, forty-two, forty...

...blast it all, he'd lost count again. KA-CHUNK.

The broadheaded arrows teased at his vision as they rattled loosely in their hard leather quiver, and Derkeethus looked up from his work, letting the quiver rest against the damp log. Count again or give up, count again, give up... he settled with distracting himself with the sight of his partner, who aimed her own weapon at a particularly thick tree. A few of her arrows were already sticking out of the bark, clustered fairly closely.

KA-CHUNK. Wood and metal scraped together as another tiny arrow whooshed out, lodging itself a hair's breadth from the previous. The girl relaxed briefly, rolling her shoulders and cricking her neck before raising the bizarre construct to her chest, preparing for another shot. The rather fancy, if still mostly practical, metalworking caught his eye, the bowstring locked in place. His companion's bright orange eyes narrowed to slits.

"What is that thing, anyway?"

KA-CHUNK. His comment had caught her off-guard and sent her shot wildly off-mark, ending up a fair few inches above the rest. A look of disappointment flashed across her features before she turned to him, a grin on her face.

"You talkin' to me?" She replied, walking over to the tree. Derkeethus stood up and followed her, helping to yank her ammunition out from the wood. "What do you mean, what is this thing?"

"Your weapon," He took a quick glance behind him, gazing at the... well, the thing. "I've never seen any bow like it before."

"I suppose I can't really blame you," She said, gratefully taking the tiny arrows and slipping them into a holster that hung from her hip. "They never really saw much use in Morrowind, either."

"Morrowind?" Derkeethus mulled the word over. The Dark-Elven province, nowadays partly under the control of other Argonians native to Black Marsh. "So it's an elven bow?"

"Not exactly," His companion stifled a chuckle. He frowned; what was so funny? "Most people are used to shortbows or longbows, since that's mostly what everyone uses. That right there is a crossbow."

"A... what?" He furrowed his brow.

"It's... well, a crossbow," Talkeeva gingerly lifted the weapon up, firmly pressing it into his hands. He turned it around and over, tracing a line across the solid frame. "You can string up a bolt and have it just sit there, and you fire it by pressing up on the trigger."

"So it's like a beginner's bow?"

She sighed, folding her arms and tapping a foot against the dirt. "I guess you could call it that. I can't use a typical bow worth a damn, and that crossbow's served me well ever since I got it."

"You can't use-" It took a moment for the words to register - especially given the experienced, adventurous person that they had come out of. "Wait, you can't use a typical bow? Why not?"

He watched as his partner moved past him, shrugging as she swiveled on her heel and sat down, unknowingly stealing his spot atop the log. Undaunted, he strode over and plopped himself next to her, handing her the weapon back. He watched her take a deep breath before answering.

"I never got the hang of holding the bowstring the right way."

What.

"Yeah, I figured you'd react like that," He realized that she was looking at him out of the corner of her eyes, and he looked away, focusing on a couple clouds on the horizon. He didn't even realize he'd reacted at all. "I even asked this old Imperial to help me out, a master archer. He couldn't understand how I could use my crossbow so well, yet be 'completely inadequate' at using a standard longbow."

"Completely... inadequate..." Derkeethus mumbled the words under his breath as his friend continued speaking, the adjectives seeming hard to apply. He knew he shouldn't have been so surprised, but the feelings were there, as plain as day. "Hard to think."

"That the guy turned out to be a racist asshole?" The strong language shook him out of his trance, and he looked over at his fellow Argonian, a clear expression of disdain on her face. "Eh. Everywhere's like that, a fair share of good-hearted fellows and a fair share of s'wits, too."

"Huh? Oh, uh..." Derkeethus gulped as Talkeeva looked expectantly at him, and he struggled to reply. "Er, I could try teaching you?"

Her eyes widened, and he felt a strange sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as his panic only grew. "Really?"

"Really? Er, really," He said, nodding in confirmation. "I wouldn't mind."

Her eyes softened, mouth twitching upwards, and she lightly punched his arm. "You sure you can handle me?"

"How long have I been traveling with you now?" The quip felt so almost-natural that he was surprised once again. His friend flashed him a toothy grin.

"Good point," She conceded. "You learn fast... so how about a deal?"

"Deal?"

She reached over and poked his shoulder with the crossbow. "You teach me how to use a bow, and I'll try and show you what I know about something else... hm..."

Derkeethus followed Talkeeva's gaze to his pickaxe, which jutted out slightly from his pack. "I'll teach you how to use a better close-combat weapon, I guess!"

"You're not gonna let that go, are you?" He grumbled mildly, shoving the pick deeper into the bag, and she let out a teasing laugh.

"If you're going to stick with that old thing, then I might as well show you some tricks to keep it from flying away from you, right?" She stood up and folded her arms, and Derkeethus noticed how the sunlight played off her features. She was as confident as ever. "So, do we have a deal?"

He stood up as well, grabbing his bow and the quiver of however-many-arrows. He tossed the former over, and she caught it with an outstretched hand. "Deal. Shall we get started?"


A/N: Call this a combination of an apology and a thank-you. As time has gone on I've begun to have less and less interest in Skyrim (and thus this fic), but people still seem to look at this and favorite or follow it regardless of the hiatus. It's... interesting to see how different the TES and Pokemon fandoms are in terms of fanfiction. This is the third-highest fic of mine despite being only half-a-year old. The second- and first-highest-viewed fics are two and three years old, yet have only double and triple the amount of views, respectively. The TES section seems to be... closer-knit, if that makes sense.

I'm still not sure if I'll keep doing these. I've been working very hard on PMD-related stuff recently, but I will say I'll try, at least, to keep coming up with oneshots for this. The people who have been following this for a while deserve that much.