Tales of Skyrim: Grohiik the Wanderer
Chapter 8: Hitting the Road (and Some Bandits too)
Grohiik inspected his newly armored coat, and was very pleased with it. The forearms had intricately designed steel plates, as did the back arms. The shoulder pads of toughened leather had been replaced by small steel plates with designs of equal magnificence as the arms. The back had three large plates in a triangular-like pattern to allow movement and strength in equal balance. The front was perhaps the most intricate plating with two plates to cover his pectorals and chest and three horizontally stacked plates to cover the abdominal region.
Grohiik slipped it on and was satisfied with the weight; and the armor in general. He slipped his scabbard belt on through the small loops around the waistline of the jacket, and then secured Pheo and Draco to his side.
"Ha, HA! We're back in action!" Draco yelled upon being picked up, making Grohiik inwardly wince at the immediacy of his loud return.
"Oh, don't you ever not yell?" Pheo questioned in an annoyed tone.
"NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! I ALWAYS YELL!"
Grohiik sighed outwardly this time, already tired of the two spirits constant bickering. He tried to ignore their heated debate as he made his way from the temporary room in the Jarl's palace, Dragonsreach, to the main hall. He was to be officially made a thane this morning, and then he would start out on his journey to High Hrothgar to meet the Greybeards. Grohiik started down the staircase which led directly into the hall.
"…And THAT is why heavy armor is better than light armor!"
"Oh! There is just no reason in arguing with you… you stubborn…" Grohiik once again ignored the conversation, wishing that they would once, just once let him focus on something other than combat.
Lydia inspected her armor for what seemed the thousandth time, not wanting there to be any flaws with it. Jarl Balgruuf was assigning her a thane today, and she didn't want to be turned down. She wanted to look the part of a warrior, as looks could mean everything to some. The steel was spotless; the leather was clean, smooth and fresh-looking; and the fur on the inside had been carefully replaced.
Lydia then turned her attention to herself. She used the small bowl of water to see herself, as she had no mirror, those were fairly hard to come by. Her hair was under control, there was no dirt present, and if she dare say so, it looked rather… sexy was the only word that came to her mind. Her face was clear, though it was so pale that the ever present redness in any, and every of Skyrim's inhabitants, was showing far too much for her liking. Unfortunately, she couldn't do anything about that. Her dark, emerald green eyes were still there, though she always long for them to change to a magnificently bright, sky blue someday.
Lydia turned away from the bowl to avoid looking at what she considered the ugliest Nord that ever lived, and quickly donned her armor, slipped her weapons into their places, and strapped her shield to her arm. Looking at the bowl now, she saw a fearsome warrior, who didn't look all that bad. Her armor made her feel much less self-conscious; it made her feel intimidating, powerful, and somewhat good-looking.
Lydia did a final check-over; everything was in order, she had all her belongings on her, and any necessary supplies. The back pack she had was rather bulky, though it was small enough and the sleeping roll on top help a little appearance-wise.
Lydia opened the door and entered the hall, leaving her room for the last time. Lydia felt a twang of sorrow; the room had been her home since her earliest memories. She had been orphaned when her parents died during a bandit raid along the road to Whiterun. Then she had been adopted by the Battle-Born family, though that had always seemed little more than a publicity stunt. When the Jarl had needed a Battle-Born to be a Housecarl, she got thrown out the door, almost literally. She had grown up mostly under Ireleth's guidance; she had been like a mother, big sister and friend to Lydia, especially in troubling times.
Lydia descended down the steps to the main hall of Dragonsreach. She could hear the Jarl talking to someone.
"…And so my friend, for your service to Whiterun and its people, I bestow to you the honorable title of Thane of Whiterun; and I have assigned a Housecarl to your service, and I assure you that she will serve you well."
Lydia smiled at the compliments of Jarl Balgruuf; he had always had high standards, though he was kind and encouraging when she didn't meet them. She reached the bottom of the staircase and entered the hall, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw who it was.
'Oh, no, no, no, no. He isn't my Thane, is he? Oh, Talos, please tell me he isn't my Thane.'
The Jarl noticed her footsteps and turned to her, his face lighting up at her presence. "And here she is now! Friend, meet your new Housecarl, Lydia!"
Grohiik looked up and saw Lydia; the same Lydia whom he had almost spent a drunken night with. He had a bad feeling in his gut, a feeling that his journeys in Skyrim would be very awkward.
The Jarl noticed his pause and shock at the sight of her, and nonchalant gave him a choice over Lydia. "If you don't want Lydia as a housecarl, we can always get you a new Housecarl…"
Grohiik considered the option, but something inside him told him not to, it told him to take her, to do to her what he could have done that one drunken night. Grohiik decided to take Lydia as a Housecarl, but not to listen to the voice's desire.
Grohiik smiled to the Jarl, "There is no reason for you do to do so, if you have chosen her, I am sure she is capable and willing to join me."
Jarl Balgruuf smiled, "Very well then, you had best be off to High Hrothgar, it would not be wise to keep the Greybeards waiting."
Grohiik bowed to the Jarl, then gestured for Lydia to follow him and turned around and made his way for the grand doors of Dragonsreach, and adventure.
…
As Grohiik passed by the Khajiit camp, he sighed. Grohiik had lived most of his life under the stewardship of a Khajiit named Nal'Ryhar, a wealthy Khajiit who owned several caravans and enjoyed man pleasures in life. He had found Grohiik, nearly dead, close to the northern border of Elsweyr. Grohiik had lived as a servant, though Nal'Ryhar loved him like a son; when Grohiik had proved his admirable combat skills, Nal'Ryhar had him trained in combat. When he turned eighteen, Nal'Ryhar had tried to offer Grohiik his youngest daughter, but Grohiik had refused, wanting to make a life himself.
"My Thane, wouldn't our journey be much easier if we had some horses?" Lydia asked, obviously skeptical of the fact that they were walking past the stable full of horses of various breeds, from the hardy Skyrim bred, to the quick Cyrodiilians.
Grohiik sighed, disappointed from the long and overly-difficult walk ahead. "Yes, it would be much easier, but I have no Septims left. If you would wish to pay for the horse yourself, go ahead, I'll wait for you." Grohiik didn't mean to sound that sarcastic and annoyed, but the frustration of the journey ahead got to him.
Lydia sighed as well, "You make a good point Thane." She sounded a little hurt and very frustrated, and Grohiik couldn't help but feel he had caused it.
Grohiik sighed again, but tried to start a friendly conversation. "So Lydia, what exactly does a Housecarl do?"
He didn't know what a Housecarl was, that is unbelievable! How on Nirn does he not know what a Housecarl is? He was a Nord for Talos' sake, what Nord didn't know what a housecarl was?!
Lydia calmed her thoughts and noticed she had stopped walking, and that Grohiik was looking at her awkwardly, befuddled by her response to his simple question. She hurriedly strode to catch up to him, and she looked at him skeptically.
He looked at her, confused, and asked "What?" as if nothing were wrong.
She studied his face closely, she had never been good with people, but she knew he wasn't joking around. She sighed, "You really don't know what a Housecarl is, do you?"
He seemed to be even more confused, "Why? Should I know what a Housecarl is?"
Lydia shook her head, "For Talos' sake… A Housecarl is a servant to their Thane. A Housecarl is to defend their Thane's life and possessions with their own life; and is to obey their Thane's every wish, no matter how…" she paused trying to think of a word, "… strange it may be."
Grohiik seemed to process this in his mind, mulling it over. Lydia was still trying to understand how he hadn't known that before, when he spoke up.
"Well that doesn't seem to pleasant a lifestyle, and certainly not one I would want to live. How can you stand to be used like that?"
Lydia thought about what he said, it wasn't a particularly grand lifestyle, nor was it fulfilling, but it brought honor to herself and her family, and unfortunately, the Battle-Borns. "Well, it may not be all sweetrolls and honey, but it brings honor to my family, and it is my duty to the Jarl."
He looked at her, with a questioning look on his face, "So, you're doing this because of honor and duty? It doesn't exactly strike me as honorable to die over your master's belongings." He continued before I could say anything. "And about the requests you must fill, if you truly have to answer any of them, could they ask for you to… um… lay with them?"
Lydia froze in her tracks, afraid that he had that on his mind. Did he want to do what they hadn't done that one, drunken night? Worry filled her mind, and she barely squeaked out "Yes." before she felt her eyes brimming with tears. Would he take away her last true possession, just because of his desires?
He noticed her worry, and quickly amended, "Not that I would ever ask that of you. I would never force you into that. I was just, you know… curious…" Lydia calmed herself down, and just barely heard him utter "Me and my big mouth…"
Lydia mentally kicked herself repeatedly; she had nearly broken down and cried like a milk-drinker! Her virginity was important to her, but she shouldn't have cried over it! She needed to bring her emotions under control; she was travelling with the Dragonborn! There was no room for crying like a milk-drinker.
"M-my Thane…" she started out, still trying to reign in her emotions.
"Lydia, don't worry, I won't ask anything like that of you." His voice was soothing, comforting and maybe just a tad loving, but Lydia couldn't stand to let her Thane humble himself to her when she had made the mistake.
"No, it's not that my Thane, I should not have been so weak, it won't happen again. And you may ask whatever you desire of me; I will do it without complaint." She couldn't have felt worse after saying that, it wasn't what she wanted, but if it was her Thane's wish, she truly wouldn't complain; out loud that was.
When she glanced at him, he had a sad, no… sad didn't describe his look, it was more… disappointed almost. Lydia thought he looked hurt, why would he be hurt after she just offered him free sex? Most men would have jumped at that offer, and demanded it immediately.
His voice sounded hurt too, "That's not really what you think." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Lydia, I promise that I won't ask anything of you, I know what it's like to be a servant, and I don't want to abuse you. Now, please don't lie to me anymore, and don't worry about your emotions getting out of control, its fine." He put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, though the contact only made her blush; he was so kind, thoughtful, handsome, and an obviously good fighter, he was a real gentleman.
Grohiik withdrew his hand and quickly began walking so Lydia wouldn't see his blush. Why did he react to her like that, sure she was a fair-looking woman with her silky, lush, chestnut-colored hair, her deep emerald-green eyes, her milky-pale skin that looked as soft as silk, her perfect body, with accented curves that showed even through her bulky armor, and… oh, who was he kidding? She was drop-dead gorgeous, and the power you could almost touch that she emitted…
Grohiik sighed, he couldn't let himself dwell on her any longer, she obviously didn't want him, and he didn't want to force her, so he focused on other things. Off in the distance, barely peeking over the horizon, was a structure; Grohiik couldn't make out exactly what it was from this distance, but it looked like a fort.
Grohiik passed by one of the various stone outcroppings, when Lydia suddenly gasped. He whirled around, only to see a large Nord man with his arm wrapped around Lydia's waist, and a knife to her neck. Grohiik's hand quickly found Draco's handle, and the spirit awoke from hibernation, but before he could move, the man pushed the knife slightly into Lydia's neck drawing a small, but steady trickle of blood.
"Nah dawn't youh moov, er else me mayts 'l poot an arrah een yer nehk." His voice was gruff, low and sounded like a skeever being crushed by a boulder. He was filthy, and his rag-tag leather armor had seen better days. He slowly began to back away, bringing Lydia along with him. "Dawnt ya werry missie, I'm shoor yull eenjoy what I haas plahned fer yah." He chuckled, and Lydia shuddered in fear, and looked at Grohiik with a pleading look.
Grohiik glanced from side to side, and all around, but failed to find the archer. Grohiik saw the man was nearly a hundred feet away, and decided to risk getting run through by an arrow.
Like a bolt of lightning, he was off and flying towards the Nord. Lydia was openly crying, and very shaken up by the ongoing event. The man pressed the knife a little more into her neck, and she looked up and noticed Grohiik charging for her, and her face lit up.
Grohiik knew that the bandit could kill Lydia, she couldn't move and he couldn't get close without risking her life, a chance he was not willing to take. But Pheo had a wondrous solution in an instant.
Lydia wasn't sure what happened, but she couldn't see at all, the sun seemed to have attacked her; even with her eyes closed the light hurt. It was distracting her attacker too, and Lydia saw her chance.
Her elbow hit him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him and giving her a chance to escape. He doubled over and Lydia scrambled away, trying to run, but her legs felt like dough, they wobbled under her weight. She heard a sword strike bone, and a cry of pain, then the sound of a sword cleaving through flesh and bone, then… silence.
When her eyes adjusted and she could see again, she turned around to find Grohiik jogging to her, and she felt a surge of joy. He had cared enough about her to come after her, and to risk his own life when it should have been the other way around. He stopped right in front of her, and gently grabbed her arms and looked directly into her eyes with a look of pure worry.
"Are you alright?" His voice even further expressed the worry he felt, and Lydia felt relieved.
"Yes, yes. I'm absolutely fine." She smiled, as she tried to keep her voice under control.
He gently raised his hand to her neck, and Lydia felt the healing magic close her small wound. His hand retreated after he was done, and Lydia couldn't contain herself.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and smashed her lips onto his, and she held the embrace for only a second before she realized what she was doing. She stepped back and blushed madly, and tried to hide it by looking at her oh so interesting feet, though she felt like he could see her anyways.
"He, he… uh… yeah I… I got a little… uh… excited… he, he…" Lydia sounded like a milk drinker, but that was exactly how she felt. She felt unsure of herself and extremely self-conscious. When she didn't hear a response, she gazed back up at Grohiik, who was standing absolutely still with a look of shock and bewilderment on his face. She blushed again and looked away, to afraid to look at him.
The sensation of the kiss, while short-lived, was fantastic. She couldn't understand why his lips were so… so… she couldn't even find words for the feeling of his lips against hers. It was just so, perfect, she just wanted to do it again, but she was too afraid to do so. And Grohiik was still just standing there, not moving; she gently touched his arm, "Grohiik?"
"Grohiik?" The sound of his name snapped him out of his trance, and seeing Lydia made him turn as red as a snowberry. He found himself staring at her perfect, soft, smooth, rosy lips, longing to be embracing them with his own. He brought his mind under control and tried to form words.
"S-s-sorry, I just… uh… I just…" He couldn't get any farther so he stopped trying, lest he be standing here all day saying "uh." He turned around and pointed to the fort on the horizon.
"If we make it there by nightfall, we'll have shelter for the night."
'Oh, way to go, you just made it seem like you didn't enjoy that kiss at all.' Pheo sounded frustrated and annoyed with Grohiik, but who could blame him, he had never been in this kind of a situation before.
Grohiik looked back to Lydia only to see her look at him with hurt, disappointment, sorrow, regret and a whole mess of emotions in her eyes. He fought off the urge to smash his lips to hers, and instead smiled awkwardly.
A/N: Woo Hoo! Hooray for awkward romance! And it's an extra long chapter to make up for the last one! Why am I so excited!
Expect some more chapter(s?) this weekend, but first I have to work on my SWtCW fiction. Also, my Xbox live gold ran out, so I'll have to wait till Christmas for more O' that, sooooo, I just fill my time with writing. Hooray?
