A/N: Hi! =)

I'm so sorry for the long pause since the last chapter, but now that college is finally over I can write again. ^^

Thank you so much for the reviews!

This time, we can see a bit of Kraid's life when he was still living in Whiterun. ;)

Disclaimer: The Elder Scrolls V Skyrim belongs to Bethesda.

– Chapter 4 –

Whiterun was a nice place. For most of his life, Kraid grew up on the woods near Helgen, so life in such a large city was a new experience for him; he enjoyed having a house of his own and a warm place to sleep in such an unforgiving cold land. Though one thing didn't change, life was never easy for a Khajiit. Specially if you're living in a place ruled by Nords.

And things just got weirder after being named the Thane of Whiterun.

That morning he somehow found his way back to Breezehome after a rough mission for the Companions. A pack of sabre cats has been attacking the farms around Whiterun for a while and Kraid was assigned to track down the beasts, three to be exact.

No one seemed interested in that particular task, apparently it was seen as a less important mission by the oldest members of the Companions as they were clearly worried with some other matter, and the rest of them didn't look that eager to fight sabre cats alone, even with the generous payment. Tired of seeing the people who lived outside the walls being ignored and simply left to luck, Kraid finally took the matter in his own hands, which rendered a new set to his already long and ever growing list of silly nicknames among the city inhabitants, "crazy cat" being the less offensive of the lot.

And so he spent two whole days hunting the wild beasts and attracting the most perplexed glances from the few passersby who ventured to walk those lands. Clad in a worn steel armor (mismatched pieces from the armory of Whiterun)that was not exactly fit for his size, an equally heavy axe (given by the Jarl after slaying his first dragon), an old dagger at his waist and a long bow strapped to his shoulders, he looked more like a sellsword than a hunter.

On the second day, as the sky darkened and the temperature plummeted down, he finally found them at the foot of the colossal mountain. With an unusual strike of luck, he was able to take one down with an arrow from a safe distance, though the agonizing screams of the animal soon alerted the other two fiends of his presence. Jumping from a nearby cliff, the second one fell to his axe due to a powerful blow that almost cracked the weapon in two with the impact, but the sabre cat still managed to slash his face with its fearsome claws.

Hot blood was pouring from his injured nose, partly obscuring his view as he wiped it away. Knowing that the last predator was still around, Kraid quickly tried to unlatch his axe from the beaten animal.

However, the last one which was also the largest and deadliest of the group, decided to play a different game.

A violent tug yanked him to the ground and he fell flat on his stomach, his claws dug trails in the snow in an instinctive attempt to resist the sheer force of his attacker; a searing pain alerted him that bones were cracking dangerously under an unforgiving pressure. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw that the huge sabre cat had started to drag him around by the tail to a more spacious area free of trees.

Rolling on his back but unable to get up and recover his weapon in time, the khajiit had only his claws to fight back as the snarling beast jumped on top of him, he felt his bow being smashed at his back as the overwhelming weight of the sabre cat over him tore it in two pieces like a rotten twig, its massive paws pressing the air out of his chest.

With a great effort and out of panic, he managed to stab the enraged beast with his dagger but the thick fur shielded it from a more effective attack. Forcing the gaping jaws off him for just a few seconds was enough to give him a chance to try a more desperate measure.

"…FUS!" With his remaining breath, he found the strength to use the foreign word as the long curved fangs tried to reach his exposed throat. Kraid had no idea of what that word meant but it worked and he was still alive.

For a brief moment, the sudden blow pushed the sabre cat away. Disoriented, the animal stumbled back, reading a second charge which gave him enough time to rise and strike back.

Kraid lunged at the beast, circling its thick neck with both his arms, in a deadly embrace.

"That's for chewing my tail!" he growled, forcing the beast into submission as it tried to toss him around, kicking and scratching him with its rear legs.

He could feel the sabre cat debating more desperately against his armor trying to free itself from the choking grasp, it roared and trashed as the khajiit tightened his grip. He couldn't say how long it lasted, but a loud snapping sound alerted him of the end of the struggle, as the giant cat fell limp.

His arms relished the relief when he released the now unmoving foe. He slid to the ground, too exhausted to move any further.

"Did I just strangle that thing?" he asked himself, looking at his hands still in shock with the feat.

Panting, covered in a mix of dirt, snow and slobber, the tall Khajiit looked up to the dark sky. It was a beautiful night sky with both moons, Masser and Secunda. As the frenetic beating of his heart slowly subsided, he sat and looked at his tail, the tip was bent in an unnatural angle, probably broken at least in two different places where the massive fangs crushed it. His nose was still burning even with the cold wind, but Kraid felt relieved.

"At least those people can sleep safely without these beasts hunting them in the dark." He thought with a satisfied sigh, his breath forming dense clouds before him. The last attack ended with an injured woman that unfortunately lost an arm while trying to defend her children from the wild animals.

That thought was enough to endure the long walk back, arriving at the massive gates of Whiterun at the same time the sun rose among the clear morning sky, the faint rays of light illuminating the small farms around its walls.

"My Thane!" was the first thing he heard as he opened his eyes, staring directly at a pair of steel boots. It looked like she was about to leave as he tumbled inside the room as soon as she opened the door. "What happened?"Lydia was standing in front of him, already wearing her armor and equipment.

"Cats… big snarling cats everywhere." He mumbled, still on the floor, too tired and sore to get up. "I think I twisted something." He told the Nord woman as she dragged him inside with a bit of difficulty.

"I presume your hunt is over?" Lydia questioned as he finally gathered his forces to stand again. Untying a small sack from his waist, three pairs of long curved fangs rattled inside of it. He could feel her inquisitive stare almost burning a hole on his back as he nodded. "You got hurt again." The woman stated with a disapproving expression at all the scratches on both his arms, the claw marks on his blood smeared face and to the missing part of his right ear.

"It will get better." Kraid shrugged as he fell on the closest chair, taking extra care with his tail. "See, I'm perfectly fin-Ouch!" he yelped slightly as he touched the broken tip.

Stomping her foot, Lydia started to gather a small basin, filling it with water and some clean cloths, she placed them on the table in front of him a bit too roughly. "You should see Farengar, he could mend that in no time." She added, pointing to his injured tail.

At the sound of the wizard's name, Kraid winced.

"No, I think I will be just fine with the traditional way, thank you very much." the khajiit replied with annoyance as he washed his face with care, hissing loudly as the cold water came in contact with the open wounds. "Ever since all that talk about being the Dragonborn, every time I see that man he stares at me like I'm some kind of living experiment of his." With a sideway glance, he saw Lydia rolling her eyes at his words.

"I still think you should have let me help, my Thane." Her voice had a moody tone, Lydia clearly disliked the idea of staying behind as she accompanied him a few times before. The proud Nord woman had her quirks too and was quite inclined to criticize his clumsiness at the most unreasonable times, but Kraid was happy for having a friend in such hostile place.

"It was dangerous for you to hunt at night, you can't see as clearly as I can." Kraid replied calmly as he removed the upper half of his armor, it was heavy and way too tight for him, hurting his shoulders. The heavy piece of steel fell on the floor with a loud clattering sound as he disentangled himself of it; the joints at his shoulders were almost burning with exertion. At that, she grudgingly crossed her arms against her chest, he had a point. "And people would make fun of you for helping…someone like me." He added a bit more quietly, dropping his ears as he remembered some unpleasant events when he walked around Whiterun.

Some of the inhabitants simply didn't care that Kraid decided to live in Whiterun, as he was more than willing to help them when they needed and he also aided the Companions. But most of the people preferred to talk in low hushed voices, even though his keen hearing was able to hear even the more distant whispers, while others just stated their distaste about his presence as plainly as daylight. He was more than used to that to care, but lately he noticed that Lydia was also a target to the ill talk.

"Let them talk!" she exclaimed slamming her fist against her armor. "A true Nord should know when to recognize anhonored warrior! And if someone has something to say about me or about you, l'm sure I can put some respect in their thick heads!" Lydia added with a confident expression, flexing her knuckles.

He raised both his long ears, each one had three golden earrings, surprised with her speech.

"Well, this honored warrior just wanted to protect his only friend." Said Kraid now free to move more easily. Closing his yellowy eyes, he stretched his sore arms, one of them snapped loudly with the motion. "I guess I was worrying too much." He smiled gently back at her, showing his fangs. "I'm sorry for leaving you behind. It won't happen again."

His words seemed to linger in the air, for a while. As she calmed down, the woman addressed him again, for a brief moment she looked at loss of words. "Excuse my words my Thane, but that soft heart of yours will get you killed one of these days." She finally replied with a smirk, punching him on the shoulder. "You're the Dragonborn, you shouldn't think so lowly of yourself."

Dragging himself, he still managed to leave those sabre cat fangs at Jorrvaskr and also received his payment. Now with enough time to calm down and wearing his more casual attire, Kraid started to actually feel how tired he really was.

On his way back to the city on the previous night, he tried to make a silent return to prevent any other incidents with bandits, wild beasts, dragons and mudcrabs for some reason (those things simply hated him). But luck was never on his side for too long and the poor Khajjit slipped on a cliff still covered in snow, tumbling all the way down right in the middle of a giant's camp.

The colossal creatures just stared dumbfounded at his clumsy retreat among the herd of angry mammoths. Unfortunately, his axe was lost amid the chaos. But that was not his main concern right now.

His left ankle was so swollen and hurt so much that he almost didn't believe how he managed to walk back home.

"That looks… bad." Lydia stated a bit unsure of how to classify what she was seeing as she watched him struggling to walk around the house.

"I can assure you…it actually feels… even worse… than it looks."Kraid hissed at every step as he tried to move his leg without touching the floor and failing miserably. "This…pain is… maddening!"

"Are you sure you don't want to see Farengar?" Lydia piped one more time looking really worried.

"Yes, I prefer to live." came his grumpy reply as the Khajiit limped across the room, his bandaged tail swinging angrily in the air as he went.

"If you're so afraid of mages, why don't you try to learn a few spells? I'm pretty sure you can find some of those old books somewhere." It was not common the use of magic among the Nords. Surprisingly, old ruins and caves around there seemed littered with magic items and books.

When Lydia said those words, something happened as he suddenly stopped walking and looked down.

"I… I can't." he almost whispered. Tilting her head to the side, the Nord woman looked at him questioningly. Kraid gave a deep sigh before continuing. "… I don't know how to read." He finally admitted, lowering his head in shame.

"Sorry my Thane, I didn't know." Lydia tried to apologize, as that seemed to make him really upset.

"Don't worry." He told her with the best smile he could come up with his face still contorted with pain. "My father tried to teach me a few things about magic once, but it never worked. Even joked about how hopeless I was at that, unless some crazy daedra decide to bless me with enough ability to not set myself on fire." Changing the subject, he closed one of his fists in silence for a few seconds. "The best I could do was a puff of smoke and singe my fur."

And then, they both jumped back in surprise when flames suddenly burst alive, covering his hand with a loud sound.

"By the Nine, what the hell was that?" Lydia exclaimed with wide eyes at the sight before her.

"I-I don't know! This never happened before!" He exclaimed back in panic, looking even more scared than her. Temporary forgetting the pain of his injured ankle, he waved his arm wildly around as if trying to extinguish the fire. "How do I undo this thing?!"

"Stop moving like that, my Thane, you will set something on fire!"Overcoming her state of confusion, the woman approached him and seized his arm with firm grip. "Just calm down!"

Slowly, Kraid took deep breaths as he tried to understand what was happening. The fire burned strongly but it didn't burn him. Once he got used to it, the Khajiit tried closing his fist a few times.

"It seems to be dimming now." Lydia observed.

He nodded, now a bit more calm but still wary, he could feel the fire consuming his energy.

"That's it, we're buying a horse." The woman concluded out of nowhere as the spell apparently ran out of magic power.

"Wait, what?" Kraid as he looked up with confusion etched on his face at the sudden change of subject.

"You wouldn't end injured like that if you had a horse." Lydia explained with both her hands at her waist. "It's a more appropriate way to cross long distances. And you really should see the Greybeards, there's something… different about you, my Thane. What just happened must have some meaning."

"I know that, but look at me, I can practically stand up while riding a horse." Khajiits are known for being rather slender and agile; Kraid however was a bit different from the rest, and what he lacked in speed was compensated in sheer strength. Reaching almost a 7'1" height, he probably was as tall as the highelves, and even without his armor, he looked way more muscular than the average Khajiits he saw on caravans around Whiterun.

Since he never lived with others of his same race, Kraid wasn't sure if that was something really unusual, but judging by Skyrim's standards, he certainly was as strange as the reappearance of dragons. Now with all the talk about him being the Dragonborn he started to think if it was somehow related to him being so… different.

Lydia eyed him carefully with a thoughtful expression on her determined face.

"I heard Skulvar has quite a selection of horses, he must have one more adequate for you."

"And how I'm supposed to ride a horse if I can barely stand up?" Kraid now seemed slight desperate to dissuade her from the idea. The young woman didn't answer him at first, marching towards her own chambers and soon reappeared with a small vial in her hands, which she tossed to him.

"I bought a few healing potions while you were out, thought we might need them someday since you're so uneasy around mages." He heard her say as he sipped a bit of the said potion and then emptied the whole thing. Kraid grimaced after coughing a bit. "Feeling better?"

"Well… I guess…" the Khajiit scratched his chin while he ventured to walk a bit again. He hated to admit it, but the potion was way more effective than he originally thought. "But why does this thing has to be so damn sour?"

"It worked, didn't it?" Lydia said with a victorious grin like she was dealing with a child who refused to listen to her parents. "Now we can go see Skulvar." After hearing those words, the Khajiit grimaced, almost shivering. That didn't go unnoticed. "Are you afraid of horses my Thane?" she lifted both her eyebrows noticing his overly reluctant behavior.

"…No…"

"I told you this was a bad idea." Kraid mumbled with frowning face as he swayed with every step of his brand new mount, his ears flat against his head."Terrible idea! …I feel sick…."

"And I think it would be a bit easier if you tried to follow the road, my Thane." Lydia tried to suggest as she walked beside them, accompanying the slow march of the horse.

"I'm not doing anything; it simply decided it wanted to go this way." He defended himself pointing to the rocky land ahead. "See, no reaction." He told her, pulling at the reins in vain.

After dragging the unwilling Dragonborn outside and many discussions later, they finally bought one of the horses at the Whiterun Stable, a huge black war horse named Dusk. Skulvar said it was the strongest of the lot and could carry his reluctant rider with ease. It had just a little problem: the horse seemed to possess a rather difficult temper.

"We are going to end in Dawnstar if we continue like this." The Nord woman stated looking around at their surroundings.

"If you have a good guess of how to make this horse listen to me, I'm more than willing to hear." The sulky khajiit tried pulling at the reins one more time. Then, he snapped his ears up. "What's that wailing sound?" he asked suddenly waking from his boredom induced stupor.

"I don't hear anything." Lydia replied a few seconds later. "It must be some animal from the farms."

"No, I'm hearing voices." Kraid looked down as if searching a way to dismount. "There." He pointed to the road near a small farm. There was a wagon standing on the middle on the road, he squinted his eyes a bit. "I can see two people arguing."

"Maybe some of the guards found a thief." The woman retorted looking uninterested. "Quite a common event. It's better if we just walk past them… my Thane?" she asked a bit surprised, realizing that only Dusk was walking beside her.

Not too far from an small farm, a Whiterun guard was standing beside the unmoving wagon, currently holding a strange man by the ear, who now was wailing and sobbing hysterically as the much taller man held him like a ragdoll.

"Open up the damn box, is that so hard to understand, fool?" he ordered looking on the verge of losing his temper. "Or do you prefer to rot at the dungeons instead?" his tone revealed that he had been asking the same question for a while.

"Cicero said again and again and again! He - can't – do - it!" the jester protested, stressing each word as tears were streaming freely from his eyes. "I just want to take my poor mother to her new crypt, there's nothing wrong with it, I swear!" and then he resumed his previous ramblings all over again about the broken wheel.

The rude nord sighed impatiently, twisting the man's ear again.

"Stop this hellish weeping, or I will do it myself!" When he released the man, the jester did his best to control his sobbing, clasping both hands over his mouth. "Good, now stand aside, fool."

"Sacrilege!" the jesteronce again crossed his way, gripping the edges of the wooden box in a strange protective gesture. "Unworthy! Poor Cicero did nothing wrong, nothing!"

With an impatient growl, the guard tried to unglue the man from the wagon but apparently he was not moving.

Finally losing his temper with the lunatic fool and eager to put an end on that matter for once, the soldier jerked the jester from the so called coffin, knocking him on the ground with enough strength to cause more than just a few bruises.

"Something wrong?" a third voice suddenly interrupted the scene.

"There's nothing to see here, citizen." When the guard turned around ready to dismiss any unwanted observer, insteadhe found himself face to chest with a freakishly tall Khajiit. His eyes got wide under the slits of his helm and he took a few steps back, his hand reaching for the hilt of his sword.

"A-and who might you be?" he stuttered, visibly intimidated but still trying to sound calm and probably took the stranger as a thief.

"You're talking to Kraid, Thane of Whiterun and also the Dragonborn." Lydia soon added, catching up with them, holding Dusk's reins as the huge horse calmly trotted down the road with an air of complete boredom."And I'm his housecarl."

The guard seemed to recognize the strange duo as he silently noddedin respect but still maintaining a subtle distrust regarding those two. Especially Kraid.

"I see. Heard about you, got quite a reputation among the Companions sir." His voice had a slightly hint of contempt. "Is it true that you really killedthat dragon? People these days have been telling the most unbelievable stories in exchange for a few coins."

"What did he do?" Kraid asked without giving much thought to the question as he was far more concerned with the poor man who was now lying on the ground. Lydia however gave the guard the most menacing scolding glare that she could muster; on the other hand the oddly dressed man got up again and held the large box as if his life depended on it.

"Some people said he was causing trouble around here, pestering the farmers." The guard replied reluctantly, still not comfortable with the whole situation, he was used to keep Khajiits away from the city's walls not answering to them. "This one is completely out of his mind. Thought I should investigate this mysterious box he carries around saying it's his mother's coffin. It looks a bit suspicious to me."

At that, Kraid took a good look at the scene, the broken wheel almost forgotten on the road, the terrified little man who now stared at him with huge pleading eyes,and then to the indifferent soldier who looked somewhat engaged in an attempt to set them all on fire just with his stare.

"Looks pretty harmless to me, compared to sabre cats." He knew saying that was only going to rub salt on the wound, as it was well known that the guards had been trying to keep the incident with the wild beasts from reaching the Jarl.

"You don't know this kind of maniacs, sir. One moment they're singing and dancing and the next one they have a dagger up on your throat." The other man spat, visibly angered. "You wish to argue with the jester then go on! Crazy cat…" the guard muttered that last bit under his breath as he marched past them.

"That one used to guard Dragonsreach until Avenicci kicked him out after being caught drunk while he was on duty. Has the build of a troll and the brains of one too." Lydia told her liege with a frown. "I can take care of him if you want."

"No, let him be." Kraid sighed heavily; he was getting used to argue with the guards by now. Half of them already hated him after the day he set his feet on the gates of Whiterun, as he was trying to warn the Jarl about the destruction of Helgen. For countless minutes, he remained there slamming his fists at the gate until some of the guards tried to kick him out. No one seemed to believe him or his delusional tale about dragons, one them even implied he was probably under the effects of skooma.

That was also the first one Kraid knocked out as he made a break for the city's keep when a group of the Companions opened the gates. He could barely remember how he reached the chamber where Jarl Balgruuf's own housecarl stopped his desperate run with a painful punch under his jaw. The brave yet scared Khajjit only knew he had at least two arrows sticking out of his back when he finally collapsed on the floor after warning them about the imminent dragon attack.

"You didn't get hurt?" Kraid asked the jester, who watched the whole scene without saying a single word. His face was still stained with tears but his expression was hard to read, he could not tell if he was grateful or scared.

"Cicero is fine, kind stranger." Said the man with a big smile as he wiped his eyes, apparently noting that the Khajjit was friendlier. "Oh, I can't tell how grateful and happy I am!" And with that, the man clapped his hands and hummed a tune accompanied by a strange dance. And then, as if remembering something important, he lowered his head and hid his face under his hands with a frustrated wail. "Foolish Cicero, this is not the time to celebrate! We are still stuck here!"

"So, what happened?" Lydia questioned looking down to missing wheel of the wagon.

"Oh Cicero was traveling, traveling for so long but his destiny is so far way. But the wagon wheel!" he pointed an accusatory finger at the poor inanimate wooden wheel and then kicked it. "My dear mother lies here, so quiet and so... still! We need to reach her new crypt, a resting place, a new home but no one wants to help poor Cicero!" as he talked, the red haired man's voice reached high pitches every now and then.

Kraid took a look around; there was only a small farm nearby. As the guard said before, the jester probably tried to ask for help and it only in ended in trouble. He couldn't quite say he understood what kind of madness consumed the man but the feeling of desperation when no one believes you was something he knew too well.

"Lydia, go up there and see if there's someone that's willing to repair the wagon." He told her, knowing that if he went in her place the result wouldn't be too different from what Cicero got in return. "Tell them we can pay for the work, that might help."

As they made their way back to the stables, Kraid now feeling much better as he walked with his own feet while carrying Dusk's reins on his hands. Though he had been hearing a strange noise for some time, and now he could distinctly hear Lydia giggling as she walked beside him, which was rather alarming. "What?" he asked, not understanding why she was laughing so much.

"You may have to look out for the Thalmor from now on my Thane, seems like you have a worshipper." She said before breaking in a full laughter. The khajiit felt his face getting warmer.

"Yeah, very funny." He replied crossing his arms with a scowl as the woman had tears in her eyes for laughing so much. He didn't expect that once they managed to fix the wagon, the jester would simply try to squeeze his soul out of him with a spine breaking hug of gratitude. "I hope he can find his way now." He thought looking up to the sky, feeling glad for helping someone. It was not every day he met someone that didn't seem to mind if he was different from the rest.

"Who knows, we can still stumble on that jester someday." Said Lydia looking somewhat happy now that the khajiit seemed to recover his usual warm demeanor. Aside from the unusual appearance and the rather eccentric actions, the nord woman knew Kraid was a good person and for that she would gladly fight by his side until the end. But that didn't stop her from making fun of him once in a while. "I just hope he will not build a shrine in honor to his rescuer." And with that she burst in laughter again.

"I'm not listening!" he replied walking a bit faster while covering both his ears with his hands.

A/N: And that's pretty much how Kraid and Lydia spent their days in Skyrim. XD

Next chapter will show a very worried Kraid dealing with Sheogorath and Neloth's antics combined at Tel Mithryn while waiting for Cicero and the others.

I hope you liked this chapter and thank you for reading. ^^

See you on the next chapter. =)