M Rated chapter. At least the first part. Slightly inspired by a scene from Outlander. Not sorry about that.


Chapter 9

Much to Kate's amusement and affection, she found out that Castle was a cuddler.

A behavior she had thought originated from the lack of firewood and the constant huddling for warmth, back at the miners shack, was instead something he did out of habit. During the night, the king kept her close to his body, holding her tightly in his strong arms. The first couple of nights, she found it slightly annoying, mostly because he was a walking furnace, radiating so much heat that the fire burning in the hearth was basically useless, but with time, she got used to it. She even started enjoying it, most of all those nights they couldn't help but give in to passion and lust and she couldn't be bothered with fetching her sleep clothes from wherever they had landed in the room.

He also liked to sleep. And he slept like a baby, often splayed on his belly, an arm curled beneath the pillow and the other clawing at his side seeking her. He was very handsy, never in an inappropriate way, but he liked physical contact. He often unconsciously held her hand when they were alone and sometimes even when they weren't. He wasn't ashamed of her past, all he cared was her present.

They had arrived in Windhelm for a fortnight, she had been summoned in his study in Solitude about a month before and not once, even if they had discussed and sometimes plainly argued, and he had never held her crimes against her. When someone tried, rarely fortunately, he always defended her with strenuous tenacity. Never in her life someone had showed such a devotion to her.

And sometimes, in the few moments she had all by herself, she could hear his words echoing in her head. You allowed me to return home and see my daughter again. All he wanted was going home, to his daughter. She had allowed him to do both things, by killing the bandit that was about to shoot that arrow that could have possibly killed him. After that, his attitude towards her had changed. During the trip, he had considered her a guest and a possible helper. After the bandit attack, he had completely changed the way he moved and talked around her. In the span of a few hours, they had become friends and then lovers. Five days later he started talking about taking her to Riften and marry her in the Temple of Mara, the goddess of love.

She knew things in Skyrim moved fast, she had lived there all her life, but she had no idea they could get that fast.

True, they had condensed months of courtship in the span of a few days, but damn if what she felt for that man hadn't taken her by surprise.

Because that man was a riddle.

A strong-willed king, tireless when it came to his duty, ruthless when he had to be, kind and merciful when the situation required it. He was a fair ruler, he went to bed late and rose at dawn six days a week, allowing himself only a day of rest to recuperate. And even on his designated free day, if need arose, he was always ready to go back to work.

But when the time to rule came to an end, when the sun went down and candles were lit, the ruler left room for the son, the father and the lover. A man so different from the one that sat on the Throne of Skyrim that sometimes she was afraid one day or another he'd start getting confused about who he was. If the King was strict and sometimes harsh with punishments, the other side of the coin was a caring man that didn't care much for boundaries or etiquette and simply followed his heart. He had no qualms when she asked about his murdered wife, and he spoke highly of her, memories of their time together fond and sometimes longing, but he never compared them. He included his daughter and mother, and he did his best to make her feel included in his small family.

Alexis and Martha were kind enough to let her join them, and in a short time, they became friends. The fourteen year old was a fiery type, she reminded Kate so much of herself at her age. Eager to learn the craft of ruling, but never rushing her decisions. She taught Kate about the Hold, about its borders and lands, the fauna and the flora. While her father was busy, she had taken her on tour in the city, along with Martha. They had done their best to make her feel welcome.

Still, most of the time she felt out of place. Living in a drafty, abandoned fort in the north for so long had changed her habits, shaped her to the point that, most of the time, being around people made her feel awkward and with the pressing need to run away and hide.

The day after their arrival, during the trial that had gathered a large group of people in the Hall of the Palace, she had found herself fretting on her chair beside the throne as she acted as Castle's personal body guard, wanting to leave the place and be by herself for a while.

During her time at the fort, she often secluded herself in the tiny room she had claimed as hers, behind the closed door. She planned assaults, checked intel from Ryan, tended to the economical side of being a bandit chief… things like that. Alone. She rarely attended great gatherings, she had always been a solitary type even as a child, and she usually hanged out with a restricted circle of trusted friends.

She had no problems with his family, but when Castle asked her to attend a council with the Hold's general staff with him, to give them some insights about the bandits' ways, she had felt her throat constrict and her stomach churn as long as she had remained in that room with all those people.

She wasn't used to such crowds.

Therefore, she cherished those moments, just before dawn when Castle woke up, when she was alone with herself. Laying in his huge bed, tucked beneath the warm covers and furs, she often found herself thinking, letting her mind wander or sometimes, simply watching him sleep.

She found it oddly relaxing. He was there with her, close enough that if she needed, she could touch him and feel him and wake him, but at the same time, he wasn't, still lost in his sleep and dreams. That's how she started noticing little things about him that she had never seen before. How his hair flopped down on his forehead in the morning, the creases on his face, expression lines that showed how worried he was all the time, a faint, thin scar on his neck that pulsed with each heartbeat… things like this.

But also she noticed that, as if on cue, right before dawn he sneaked closer to her, as if his body was unconsciously seeking her proximity. The first couple of days, she found it slightly unnerving, as he had the tendency of keeping her close for the majority of the day, but she had learned to see it as a loving gesture on his part. About a week after they had arrived in Windhelm, she actually found herself basking in the attention he reserved to her.

Never in her life a man had been so caring and considerate in her regards, not even her father. Not to this extent at least. He was taking great care in having her inserted in his routine without disrupting her own, so he allowed her to do some exercise every day, let her keep a very informal dress code made that valued comfort and ease of movement more than the looks and the posh value, even if she wasn't a designed bodyguard. Legally speaking, she was a guest and guests were required to dress accordingly to the state of the court. A woman dressed in padded leather pants and a simple white shirt beneath a cured leather jacket with fur trimmings, clothes more suitable for hunting in the forest than for court hearings, wasn't exactly well received by the local nobles.

But there was a freshly sharpened sword hanging at her belt, and a reinforced glass dagger tucked in her boots, and people knew she was an amazing fighter that had saved the King while they traveled, so they didn't complain loudly. At least not in their presence. Castle would have skinned anyone who tried to object her dress code, with his hands, she was pretty sure of that.

One morning, Castle didn't wake up at the usual time. When Beckett opened her eyes, the gray light of a cloudy day bathed the room in cold hue that was almost blinding as it reflected on the shiny stone walls. As wakefulness slowly crept up her body, she realized it was already late and that Castle had slept in, his arm carelessly wrapped around her waist as he kept her back plastered to his chest.

Trying not to wake him, she turned around and faced him and couldn't help but smile when she noticed the blissful grin that lit his face. He was the picture of happiness, wrapped around the soft furs and the covers in a warm cocoon that welcomed them both. She dared to look past him, at the window, and saw the thick clouds threatening to throw a blanket of snow over the city. Staying in bed wasn't such a bad idea, she thought.

Slowly, careful not to rouse him, she pushed his hair away from his face and rested her hand on his cheek. "What have I done to deserve a wonderful man like you…" she whispered.

He didn't move. Seeing his non-reaction, she let her fingers wander more, down to his scruffy chin and his neck. She passed over the thin scar over his pulse point, feeling the small, delicate ridge of thicker skin beneath her finger pad and it elicited a soft, sleepy grunt from him. She loved how responsive he was to her touch. Even a simple caress or a chaste kiss on his cheek would make him brighten up while he worked, which usually made him all broody and in foul mood, considering the amount of shit he had to deal with every single day.

"Staring is creepy, you know?" he murmured, eyes still closed.

She smiled. "I think I told you the same not a week ago."

"Then why are you staring?"

"Can't help it. You're too cute when you sleep."

At that, he opened one drowsy eye, and she could see a spark of amusement in the bright blue iris. "You too."

Sighing, Beckett dropped her forehead against his chest and breathed deeply. He smelled of the mountain flowers his servants put between the clean clothes, in the wardrobes, with a tangy note of sweat, like every morning before he washed himself. It was a peculiar mix of scents she had grown already accustomed to, and it always made her feel safe. "We overslept," she stated.

She felt him nod against her head, and drop a kiss on her hair "I know, but we worked really late last night. Waking up at dawn didn't seem such a great idea, I didn't want to drag my feet like a resurrected corpse all day long."

"I would pay to see you like that. You always seem so full of life when you wake up…"

He chuckled. "Only because I have to. Most mornings, all I wish is to hide beneath the covers and have my wicked ways with you."

Beckett looked up, a sly grin flashing on her lips. "Wicked ways? What do you mean?"

"Let me show you."

Gently, he ran his hand that rested on her waist up her arm, sliding up her ribcage and to her shoulders, pushing her flat on her back. He leaned down to kiss her, while he moved to rest above her. More than willingly, she parted her legs to cradle him between her thighs as soon as she felt his knee prodding her, and she could feel him, already hard and heavy, against her stomach. She giggled, softly, thinking about how awkward he had felt that night in the shack, when he had revealed he had never had sex since his wife had died and that he felt extremely unfitting, at the moment.

She had to be honest though, all his worries were for naught; that man had some great skills when it came to reduce her to a puddle of writhing flesh. He just needed to kiss her. When he slowly moved down the column of her neck, she couldn't help but arch her back against his chest as he playfully bit down gently just over her pulse point. He knew it made her quiver, he had deftly found that spot basically their first time together, much to her surprise. Yep, that man had skills.

She gasped, loudly, when his lips closed over her nipple. She felt him smile against her overheated skin and at that point she knew there was nothing she could do to stop him, better just relax and enjoy the ride.

He let her nipple go with a loud pop and proceeded down the slope of her breast to kiss the round puckered scar that marred the center of her chest, before he reverently traced a scorching line with his lips and tongue down her tummy, around her belly button, and just when she thought he was going for the main prize, he hooked his right arm around her left leg and abruptly turned to pay some attention to her inner thigh.

"Holy fuck Castle…"

He clicked his tongue and the vibration sent a shockwave through her. "I'm far away from being holy, Kate…" he whispered against her skin. "But I can fuck you alright."

"You better…" She was struggling to speak, in the highly strung state he had thrown her in.

"I think I'm going to wait a little longer…" he said. Then he spoke no more.

She nearly tumbled over the edge as soon as he flicked his tongue on her clit. Her right hand shot down to his head and her fingers fisted his unruly hair to keep him there, while the other hand closed around the soft wolf fur beneath her. By the Nines he was good. He had her worked up so fast she got lost in the marvelous sensations he was enticing from her, coaxing her closer and closer to ecstasy.

But just when she was about to reach it, to the point she was almost tasting it, someone banged insistently on the door. The loud thumps echoed in the large room, distracting them. Castle raised his mouth from her, a look of pure, unadulterated rage twisting his face as he growled a series of long expletives. "Who the fuck bangs on my fucking door at this fucking hour?" he screamed.

Kate shivered when his hot breath washed over her wet folds. When she dared to look down at him, he had murder in his eyes.

"It's Galmar."

"Go away, I'm taking the morning off."

"I'd gladly leave you be but… you have guests!" came the deep voice behind the door.

Castle groaned and dropped his head on her thigh. "Fuck… stay here, I'll deal with this guest and be right back."

Kate couldn't keep the sudden laugh silent, as she observed him stand up and furiously stride towards the door. Buck naked. That spoke volumes about the kind of friendship he shared with Galmar.

But when Castle pulled the heavy door open there was a surprise to wait for him.

"Galmar what do you… Dragonborn!" he shrieked, then jumped behind the door, hiding everything except his head.

The Dragonborn, or better, Vivienne, giggled and politely covered her mouth with her hand. "Good morning, Your Highness," she said, still laughing under her breath. "I'm sorry to catch you so… bothered…" At that remark, Kate saw his ears become bright red in pure embarrassment, as the reason he was… well, naked, was pretty clear.

He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's my own fault, I was too lazy this morning. Let us get ready and we'll join you in the war room. Feel free to ask the servants for food, water or anything you might need. Galmar will show you your rooms. See you in a while."

He shut the door with a loud thud and took a deep breath. "Well, that was awkward."

"Could have been worse. Think about her reaction if she had seen you naked as the day you were born with a hard on and me in your bed. After she spent weeks tracking me down. At least I was smart enough to hide when you opened the door."

"Well, she'll see you dressed and armed as my bodyguard. I can think of worse situations to meet the person that caught you and brought you to me," he replied as he slid back in bed. "Now… where was I?"

Smiling, she pushed him away. "No way. That was a little bit of a cold shower. Wait until tonight, then we'll see."

His shoulders sagged. "Damn… Alright, then let's get dressed up and eat something. It's going to be a long day."

They arrived at the war room, fully dressed and fed, about an hour later. Vivienne and her husband, Vilkas, sat at the table, quietly chatting between them, each with a cup of steaming herbal tea, while Galmar sat opposite of them, sharpening a dagger he usually kept behind his back.

"Thank you for coming, Vivienne," said Castle, sitting at the end of the table. He set the map Kate had worked on the broad surface then relaxed against the wooden back of his chair. Kate silently walked behind him and took her now customary place at his right, a step back from the chair, thumbs tucked in the heavy leather belt that held her weapons, ready to defend the King if the need arose.

"You finally took time to ask what my name is…" she replied, a slight sassy tone in her voice. Then she looked up at Kate, and clearly recognized her from the day she had arrested her. Apparently, even Vilkas remembered her. "I see you have a new bodyguard."

He nodded. "Yes. After what happened a month ago, while I was travelling here, I thought that having a personal bodyguard was better than an escort party that got slaughtered like a bunch of bunnies in the snow." The scolding, heated look he threw at Galmar wasn't missed by the Dragonborn and her husband, and they frowned. "Kate here was fast and precise and efficient at defending both herself and me."

"She's a criminal."

Castle closed his fist so tight everyone heard the knuckles snap. "She's paying for her crimes by serving me."

"Do you need a bodyguard even in bed?" she asked. "By the Nines, you got yourself bandit whore to fuck?"

At that, the King punched both fists on the table. The loud bang startled them all, excluding Kate who was waiting for it, and all the items on it clattered around. "Enough. I can tolerate your sass when it's addressed to me, but this manner won't get you anywhere except out of my Palace and I don't care if you helped me kicking the Empire out of Skyrim, understood?" he seethed, through clenched teeth. "Kate has been instrumental in many things, in the past month, first and foremost she kept me alive when all my soldiers died. She didn't try to kill me even though I was unharmed and she never tried to escape ever since I allowed her a little bit more of freedom. Keep your prejudices for yourself as long as you're beneath my roof."

Vivienne shrugged her shoulders. "You're life, not mine. So… Galmar's letter said you had issues with bandits?"

"Seems a recurring problem here," murmured Vilkas. Vivienne jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Yes… as I was saying… we have a band of bandits that's terrorizing the southern part of the Hold and they seem to be moving north. I've sent a message to Riften to ask if they're having the same problems but I still have to hear from them. Kate has outlined a pattern they seem to follow."

"She did what?"

Again, he clenched his fists at the mocking tone in Vivienne's voice. "As a former bandit chief I thought she would be useful at finding them. She sat at the table in my study and started working the same moment I asked her to do it, and never stopped until she had read through every report on my desk. Six months worth of papers."

"How do you even know she worthy of your trust? She spent years leading the most efficient bandit gang of bandits in Hjaalmarch and now not only she's free as a bird but you also bedded her?" snapped the Dragonborn, evidently shocked and angry. "You ordered me to get them and take down their operation, and you were furious as hell as you did it! I thought you wanted them all dead."

"And you were kind enough to remind me of the fact that they had actually never killed anyone during their raids," interjected Castle. Yes, I thought about putting them all to death. Until you said that."

"Because I thought you'd send them to Markhart to work as miners, or whatever! You actually took their leader in your own house!"

"Because when the men supposed to protect me were killed, she took up a shield and took a fuckin' arrow through her arm. An arrow that was going to kill me! You know when was the last time someone did something like that for me? Fifteen fucking years ago! During the assault on Solitude you were supposed to protect me, where were you when Legate Rikke nearly severed my leg?"

That explains the jagged red scar that goes around his calf. Thought Kate.

At those words, Vivienne lowered her eyes and swallowed. "Richard, you know that…"

"You were on the other side of the city already celebrating a siege that wasn't even nearly won! You were bouncing around like a rabbit in the throne room, mocking Elisif and threatening to kill her! You were drunk on violence, all you wanted to do that day was killing as many Imperials and Thalmors you could!"

"They killed my family, Richard!" she lashed back. "They slaughtered them, for refusing to take down our shrine of Talos!"

"The Thalmor killed my parents and burned my house," interjected Kate at that point. A thick, meaningful silence fell in the room before she spoke again. "They chased me through the woods for days, intended to kill me, until I managed to stalk behind the camp they had set for the night, and kill them as they slept. They had made sure that if I tried to go back to Falkreath, guards would have killed me on sight. I was the daughter of a respected Thane in the Hold, and with a snap of their fingers my father became an infamous heathen, doomed to be killed for his faith in Talos and his stark refusal to forswear him. I was lucky enough to be out hunting that day when the Elves came. When I returned home, the house was on fire and I found my parents' bodies hanging from the crossbeam of the main hall. They were reduced to charred pieces of flesh and clothes. Not too far, by the lake, a party of Thalmors was washing blood off their swords. They saw me and they started chasing me through the woods. I was lucky because I knew the forest of northern Falkreath Hold like the back of my hand and they didn't."

"So the remains of that manor I found while wandering around Lake Ilinalta were your house?" asked Vivienne. Her tone had considerably softened.

Kate nodded. "Yes. It was my home. Technically, the land still belongs to me. Anyway, after I killed the Elves, I tried to return to Falkreath, but in the meanwhile they had overthrown the Jarl and put a puppet in the Longhouse. I was outlawed and a considerable bounty was put on my head. Dead or alive. When the guards shot at me, I left with the little I had on me, my clothes, my bow and a small dagger. I had nothing. For months I wandered around Skyrim, trying to survive and gather enough money to buy something that would shield me from the cold winter. One day a group of bandits found me and took me in with them, fed me and gave me warm clothes. The leader, Roy Montgomery, was a Redguard soldier turned bandit when the Thalmor conquered Hammerfell and most of the able warriors were banished. He took many of the misfits left behind by wars and disbanded armies, or even family feuds, and gave them a sense of purpose. He taught us to steal but never kill and to share the bounty with the poor villagers in the mountains around our fort. And so we did. We took what we needed from the caravans, leaving the Khajiit alone as they had enough problems on their own, and we left everyone unharmed. When he was killed in an avalanche as he was taking some supplies to an old hermit in the mountains, the others voted me as his successor. I continued his legacy. We took and we shared. We helped those who couldn't afford the Companions in exchange of some iron ingots or a bowl of warm soup."

As she mentioned the Companions not being cheap, the most famous band of mercenaries in Skyrim, both Vivienne and her husband Vilkas looked down and visibly blushed. They knew she was right. The fees they charged to their employers were high, sometimes high enough that a miner would have needed to give them everything he earned in a year to ask for their help in a simple case of animal extermination. And they were often called to kill a random wolf that had taken residence in someone's workplace or home, basically chasing people away from their source of income. They asked for six hundred septims to kill a critter, often instead of Hold's guards. A miner or a farmer usually earned that sum in three months when things worked. With the war, many people didn't see that sum in a whole year of hard labor. And if people didn't pay them, or couldn't pay them as soon as the job was done, they simply took their stuff away, like supplies, food and such.

Many people thought they were airheaded thugs that hid behind tradition. Other called them loansharks, nothing better than pricy sellswords that bullied people.

They were a bit of both, and they did nothing to change it.

And they knew it.

"He gave us freedom to act as we saw fit, while at the fort, but the moment we stepped outside, we had to behave. Montgomery gave us his discipline and his help when we needed them, when we were stranded with nowhere to go, doomed to die of starvation and exposure," she stopped for a moment, to collect her thoughts. "Yes, we were outlaws. Yes, we committed many crimes. But not nearly as many as other gangs. Like this band, that's scaring everyone in Eastmarch. I was called to pay for my crimes by serving the High King. And I'm doing it the best I can. As a former chief I'm fairly well-versed when it comes to the tactics and the techniques bandits tend to use."

"What makes you think these bandits work the same way?" asked Galmar.

"Because I've done it before. There were other bandit gangs in Hjaalmarch, along with us. We wer the bigger, more organized group, both the smaller parties were usually more desperate and more ruthless. They weren't good for the Hold and well, they didn't do anything good for the business too. If you kill the merchants what do you get? Bloody items few people would want to buy, cutting your share off, but it also means less bandits would come to the Hold. Rob them and they'd hire protection, which is easily diverted or rendered harmless without the use of violence. We tracked down other bandits all the time, in order to get rid of them, one way or another. I used the same technique I used back then."

"How many times has it worked?" asked Vilkas.

"Five out of six," replied Castle.

"What happened the sixth time?" questioned Vivienne this time.

Kate's reply was extremely pithy. "You."

If Galmar had finally softened a little - better, a lot - in her regards, both the Dragonborn and Vilkas had kept treating her like she was nothing more than a lowlife thug that had decided to take a bath.

During the day, Kate had to balance between Castle's inability to let go the disrespectful way Vivienne was behaving and the need to deal with her, explaining the plan she had devised to track down the bandits in the shorter time possible.

The Dragonborn and her husband, both proud members of the Companions, were though extremely cautious about her and didn't trust her at all. They questioned everything she had done in the past two weeks, why she had decided that that place wasn't a suitable hideout, or why that other one was. She had come to the conclusion that there were six possible points of interest to search, out of more than one hundred between caves, partially collapsed mines, tombs and Dwemer ruins, all around the Hold, and yet they kept asking her why that one was right and the other wasn't. Everything she said was underwent such an unnecessary thorough scrutiny that even Galmar had to agree that they were doing it just to see if they could piss her off.

Problem was, Castle couldn't take it anymore. At a certain point, he just burst, literally.

Kate was trying to explain why Dwemer ruins were seldom used as bandit hideouts because of the inherited danger of being around possible still active unknown technology, and why old Nord Tombs were safer, to a certain degree, and why actually caves and mines tended to be preferred, when Vilkas threw in a very derogatory remark that sounded a lot like what the hell does a whore from Falkreath know about caves? Right when Castle was walking behind him. He heard it all.

And he got so mad he punched the mercenary so hard he fell from the chair, blood spurting from his nose and upper lip. He hadn't landed on the floor yet that the King had already unsheathed his sword and pointed the tip to his throat.

"Say that again," he ordered, peremptory.

"What?" he whined.

"What did you call her. Say that again."

Vilkas grunted. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he shouted.

The tip of the ebony blade in Castle's hand prickled his skin, and a small rivulet of blood ran down his neck to the furry hem of his armor.

"You called her whore from Falkreath. I heard you very well. Now tell me… why?"

"Rick…" interjected Kate. "There's no need…"

"Yes there is!" he snapped. "Now tell me, Vilkas. What do you have against her?"

He groaned, wiping the blood away from his mouth. "She's a bandit. A criminal. She might be in league with these bastards you're trying to wipe out. And you allow that… harlot in your court, in your home, in your bed… you're a fool, and what's worse you're a fool in love." He spit out more blood. "You're making a terrible mistake and you won't realize it until it's too late."

Castle nodded. "Good to know. Now, Vivienne… you've heard the plan Kate devised. You two are free to follow it or do as you please. You'll have money, supplies and horses, anything you'll see fit. Five thousand septims are already on their way to Jorrvaskrr as payment. You can go now, or tomorrow. Just get this idiot out of my sight before I Shout him to a cinder."

Silently, they left the room, taking the map with Kate's notes with them.

"Why did you do that?" asked Kate then. "Did you think I wasn't aware of the fact that something like that would happen? You thought I wasn't ready?"

"No. It's an old thing between me and Vilkas," he replied, sheathing his sword.

"How old?"

"Way older than you and I. I traveled to Whiterun, years ago, to start looking for supporters for my efforts of getting the Empire and the Thalmor out of Skyrim. I tried with the Companions. Kodlak Whitemane, the old leader of the group, was kind enough to listen to me but politely refused to give me us public support, because he believed that the Companions needed to remain neutral, but at least you could talk with him. Vilkas and his brother Farkas though, they were incredibly rude to me that night. They were drunk, partying after a successful contract and they started insulting me."

"For what?"

He took a deep steadying breath. "Because I had allowed a killer to murder my wife. They said I wasn't fit to be a Jarl, as I couldn't protect someone that was sleeping right beside me. I tried to ignore them as I talked with another Companion, a certain Aela you might know her she's very famous, they became violent. They attacked me, because I was ignoring them. Point is: we fought and I won. I humiliated them, and they're still angry for it. That's it."

Kate smiled. "Good to know. Next time though, let him hit you, or have him threaten you, so I can hit him myself."

"Better do it when Vivienne's far away. She's very protective of him."

She nodded. "In any case, I'll have a gag ready."


Now... time to put Far Cry away for a while and go searching for a decent dungeon to have them do something Skyrim-y