A Cold Reception: Windhelm pt. 1
Arn dropped his armload of gear and turned just in time to catch Lydia from collapsing as they tried to trudge out of the Valley where they'd fought Salohknir.
Unfortunately, between the Dragon's tail swipe and the rough impact with a boulder, Lydia's pack of potions had gotten utterly smashed, meaning they had only a few between them left and that wasn't enough to deal with all of their injuries as Arn carefully picked her up, armor and all as she bit her lip in pain, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes.
"You...don't..." she tried to grit out, her eyes watering with the effort.
"Don't talk. In fact, I don't want you trying to do anything until I get a better idea of how bad it is. It shouldn't take Delphine too long to get back with more supplies" Arn grimaced as he carried her to an alcove amongst the stones to use as a camp.
It took Arn a little longer than usual to get things set up on his own, but as night fell, he had a good fire going and had set the sound rune traps at each important approach point.
He returned to find Lydia still awake, grimacing up at him from her sleeping roll.
After contemplating a moment, Arn removed his armor and kneeled next to her.
"This will hurt, but I need to get you out of your armor" he stated, looking intently into her eyes and caressing away a loose strand of hair from her face as though maybe that would lessen what she was about to feel.
She simply nodded while continuing grimacing.
Ordinarily, the act of undressing Lydia or even the thought of it would have been enough to drive Arn mentally stupefied and try to find some way to hide his loins' reaction.
This time though, it was nullified by his concern as he noted the look on her face as he carefully unlatched and pulled off piece by piece.
Crying out in pain as he removed her last piece of armor, Arn realized there was no way to get her leathers off without inflicting even more.
With a quick flick, Arn had removed his dagger and with several brief cuts, had divested her of her leather jerkin. Her breeches followed shortly thereafter, leaving her in just her leather breaststrap and smallpants.
Now able to see more of her body, Arn could already see the purple blooming all over her right side, from below her hip all the way up to just beneath her armpit, bruising and probably something broken in there from the impact with the boulder.
Arn shuddered to think what might have happened if she'd landed against her back or front instead of the side.
They'd used the few healing potions they'd still had left on Delphine's nasty head gash and made Arn drink the other. Arn had used all the healing he thought prudent on the nasty gash on his side where Sahloknir's talon had sliced through when he'd gotten pinned.
Despite his desire to do anything to take away her pain, Arn was reluctant to use his healing hands on her.
If he exhausted himself healing her, there were no potions of any type to help him regain energy and if they were attacked by anyone or anything, Arn was the only able bodied one left.
Despite her best efforts, she cried out in pain as he moved her arm up before carefully laying it back at her side.
Arn sighed in frustration and looked at her.
"Why did you insist I use the last potion? You said it wasn't bad."
"It doesn't matter...if...I..." she started to grit out before he interrupted her.
"Of course it matters! And I don't EVER want to you to think otherwise!"
"I'm...your...housecarl, it's what...I'm supposed to do"
"But I'm your Thane, and I don't want you to. So that's final" Arn replied stubbornly as they stared at each other.
"Someday...you may not have a choice" she muttered.
"And here I thought I was the one that was supposed to talk pessimistically about oldness and dying" Arn retorted, fixing her with a mock stern look.
He saw a grin appear on her features and she started to laugh, but immediately grimaced and stopped.
"Oh...please, it hurts...to laugh"
"Sorry...do you think you will be able to sleep?" Arn replied, worriedly eyeing her, and caressing her forehead and cheek, not knowing what else to do.
She simply shook her head, grimacing more.
Making sure she got water before tucking her in carefully and wrapping her in his trusty enchanted Elk pelt, Arn sat back and contemplated.
Finally, after seeing her continue to grimace in pain for awhile, he couldn't take it anymore and set off to find some herbs he could use to make a sleeping poultice and maybe more if he was lucky.
In the darkness of the night, it took a lot longer, maybe a couple hours by Arn's reckoning. He even tried asking in what was left of Kynesgrove, but no one would even answer their doors.
Eventually he checked further out and found what he was looking for, but just as he finally found another good clump of undergrowth that sported several necessary ingredients, he heard the tell tale WHOMP of one of his sound rune traps exploding.
Grabbing a handful of them, he took off at a full sprint, stuffing the herbs in his bag as he ran.
As he approached the camp, Arn leaped over one of his sound runes and slid to a halt, drawing his bow, nocking an arrow, and taking aim at the same time, fixing his aim on the dark cloaked figure striding toward Lydia's bundled form.
"Another step and you're dead!" Arn growled.
"Well, good to see you didn't leave things completely undefended" tartly answered Delphine as she turned and lowered the hood that had obscured her earlier "Those sound runes are more powerful than I remembered" she grimaced, shaking her head slightly.
"I would've expected a veteran like you to avoid them" retorted Arn.
"I wasn't expecting you to put traps on your own camp" she retorted in turn.
"You have to be a little unconventional when you travel alone a lot" Arn replied, lowering his bow and re-sheathing the arrow as he walked to where she knelt and rummaged through her pack.
"How are your wounds?" she asked, not looking at him as she removed about half a dozen phials and a book or two.
"I'm not the one who needs them" Arn replied, nodding at Lydia's grimacing form when Delphine turned and eyed him a bit surprised.
As Arn busied himself preparing the plants and herbs he'd gathered, Delphine administered the potions she'd brought before wrapping Lydia back up and moving over to Arn by the fire.
"That's much worse than I would've thought. She's got an awful lot of grit to have even gotten up from a blow like that, much less try to walk away" Delphine remarked as she eyed Arn's preparations.
"I was wondering something" Arn muttered, continuing the mashing of the herbs "Why did you give me that warning look when we got stopped by those Stormcloaks?"
"I did tell you I am wanted for being a member of the Blades right?"
"Yes, in your brief explanation after the fight where you were talking so fast and worriedly, we wondered if your mouth was going to fall off" Arn replied, somewhat amused at the memory "You're lucky I already interacted with some of the Blades during the Great War or I'd still be asking questions."
"Given how powerful you already are, I'm positive the Thalmor have already taken an interest in you, especially if you haven't taken any pains to conceal your abilities" Delphine stated, ignoring his amusement at her previous flustered state.
"Why would that matter in Stormcloak territory?"
"You should never assume you are safe out on the roads, no matter what territory you are in. You can be sure the Thalmor have their spies in Stormcloak territory. I've stayed alive and undetected by always being cautious. You should do the same" Delphine replied confidently, as though lecturing him on the virtues of doing so.
"And not trusting anyone as well?" Arn retorted.
"Trust is for less dangerous times" Delphine scoffed.
"You really think the Thalmor are behind the Dragons' return?" Arn mused after a moment of silence, changing the subject to avoid another argument with Delphine over her issues with trust.
"Have to be. They're the only ones with anything to gain from it and possibly the power to make it happen."
"And how do you propose we go about finding out?"
"There's an official party hosted by the Thalmor at their embassy with most of the Jarls or dignitaries in Skyrim invited. That will be your ticket in. Once you're inside, it will be up to you to sneak away and find out just what they're up to. They're bound to have records somewhere."
"You want me to break in?"
"They'll let the Dragonborn in"
"You tell me to keep my identity a secret. Then a minute later, I'm to proclaim myself on their steps so I can mingle with them?" Arn chuckled sarcastically.
"I'm sure they already know who you are, and if you're coming to them, they're not going to suspect anything" Delphine huffed as she readjusted her pack and stood as Arn finished his poultice preparation.
"I assume you're not coming with"
"That would be a death sentence for sure. I need to make the preparations, though. It will take me a few days at least, but once I've arranged everything, meet with a man named Malborn in the Winking Skeever in Solitude...discreetly. He'll give you further instructions on the Embassy" Delphine stated as she watched Arn carefully help Lydia drink the prepared sleep drink.
Arn didn't look at her, simply nodding as he tucked Lydia back in.
"You should take her to Windhelm. You can leave her there to recover while you head to Solitude" Delphine stated almost matter-of -factly.
"I'm not leaving her there" Arn growled back more quickly and angrily than he meant to.
"She can't go with you to the embassy and the kind of healing she needs will take days and the effect hangover could last over a week, maybe more" Delphine tried to reason.
"And if it wasn't for her, neither of us might have walked out of that valley today" retorted Arn, rising and fixing her with a stern glare.
Arn expected another argument, but instead, he was surprised to see her relent somewhat, looking down with a newfound care or respect at Lydia's now sleeping form before turning back to him.
He was surprised again when she moved closer to him and carefully placed her hands on his forearms and looked up at him with something between worry and desperation in her eyes.
"Arn, just...don't do anything foolish. You have no idea how long I've waited..." she actually seemed to choke up a bit at this point, stopping for a moment to reign in the emotion Arn had not seen from her up to this point "...how long everyone has waited for someone like you. The gathering at the embassy is in 8 days and is 2 days long. You have to be there. We may not get another chance like this for awhile."
"Don't worry. I'll be there" was all the answer he gave.
"Good" she sighed, releasing his arms, turning, and walking to her horse "I will see you then. Safe journeys" she replied before mounting and galloping away into the darkness.
The next day found Arn leading the horses and a litter with Lydia tied in it across the long bridge over White River, approaching the massive ice covered walls of Windhelm.
Situated on the banks of the White River and nestled in the rising slopes of the Velothi Mountains, Windhelm, as its name implied, was prone to cold windy gusts and weather that was funneled in from the sea to the north and east, leaving the walls covered in ice and large icicles nearly year round.
There was fresh snow on the ground as well, giving it a rather bleak appearance.
Whereas in Solitude and even Whiterun, there were plants, greenery and paint of different colors, Windhelm seemed only the gray color of stone, layered with the white of snow here and there, and only the largest of the icicles retained any of the blue color they had when formed.
Not surprisingly, there was a checkpoint at the city gates manned more heavily with troops than any of the other cities Arn had been back to since he returned to Skyrim.
"State your name and business" barked one of them loudly, interrupting Arn's appraisal of the surroundings.
"Arnsmyth Bulgoar...I'm an adventurer looking for some respite. We've had a hard time of it lately" he nodded to Lydia's bundled form.
Gruffly shoved aside, Arn was surprised as several of them went to work rummaging through their packs.
"Is that truly necessary? I am a Thane in two holds. Anyone from Whiterun or Morthal can attest to that" Arn replied a bit angrily, just trying to get this over with as quickly as possible.
"Yes, and I'm Dibella personified" muttered a much scarred Stormcloak sarcastically, sitting off to one side and observing impassively.
"Whadda we got here, lads!" exclaimed one of the guards before Arn could respond to the scarred one.
The jingle of coins signified to Arn they'd located the money pouch and were more amused than they should be at the amount contained therein.
Arn was tempted to remonstrate more, but decided to wait and see what course of action they took as they seemed to finish going through everything, including giggling merrily at Lydia's sleeping face when they peered into the tied up bundle.
"You haven't fallen on hard times" they chuckled as they walked up to him with his money bag "A winsome wench tied up and a bag more full of coin that some nobles...I'd say you've done rather well for yourself" smirked the apparent leader as they stood around him.
Arn suddenly found himself taking account of their number and position in relation to him, wondering if this was going to degenerate into something he had to fight his way out of.
"You don't seem to be a spy of any sort, so...I'm sure you don't mind helpin' out the cause" chuckled the leader, dumping a prodigious amount of septims out of Arn's coin bag into some sort of collection box before tossing it back to him "Move along now"
Bitterly, Arn grabbed the horses' reins and continued on, tucking his much emptier coin bag away in one of the packs again.
Finding what passed for the local Inn, a place called Candlehearth Hall, he purchased a room and got Lydia settled before seeking out a healer and healing potions.
He was unable to locate a healer and thanks to the forced "donation" from the gate guards, Arn ended up spending most of the funds they had left to get as many healing potions as he could before returning to administer them to Lydia.
As he helped her drink down the last one, a loud pounding echoed on the door.
"Open up!" came the gruff order through the door.
Arn rose, placed his helmet on, and cinched his longsword sheath on before opening the door to find himself face to face with a squad of Stormcloak soldiers.
"You are to come with us, by order of Jarl Ulfric" came the command.
"Come where?" Arn huffed angrily.
"If you do not comply, we will use force" came the abrupt reply.
Arn looked back over his shoulder at Lydia, who was half out of it.
"I'll come, just give me a moment to make arrangements with the innkeeper" Arn muttered as he moved out with them and descended the stairs.
Tossing the bag of remaining septims to the innkeeper, Arn made arrangements to care for Lydia before he was escorted out and up the stone stairs toward the massive stone structure of the Palace of Kings.
Inside, they were joined by more guards, the total numbering now a dozen as they marched through the long hall past a long dining table and came to a halt before an elevated, empty stone throne of furs and a brace of swords and shield over the top with the Stormcloak banners on either side.
Here they stopped and waited uneasily for a few minutes until raised voices from the hallway to the left drew their attention as an entourage of people began pouring out, growing silent as each spotted the group in the main hall.
First came more guards, then a man in a minister's apparel, an aged wizard, a large, burly Nord with a bear's headdress, and finally Ulfric himself, who Arn recognized from Helgen.
Growing silent as they entered, Arn became more uncomfortable as all eyes fell on him while Ulfric casually strode up and sat on the throne, taking a few moments to lean forward and eye him over critically before sitting back again.
"You are not the young pup the reports claimed" muttered Ulfric in his thick Nordic accent after a few moments of awkward silence.
Arn simply shrugged his shoulders, biting back the sarcastic reply he wanted to make, waiting to see what Ulfric's intentions were.
"I have watched your eyes, though. You've already taken stock of everyone in the room and their location in relation to you. Those are the signs of a fighting man" Ulfric stated, leaning forward again "at least that part of the reports seem accurate."
"I'm not entirely sure what you're getting at, but you may have me mistaken for someone else" Arn replied, realizing he was a little too late to be playing the false identity strategy.
"Oh, I'm certain we have the right man" chuckled Ulfric "Deception doesn't suit you, a good quality for a Nord."
"I'm still waiting on an explanation as to why I've been summoned here"
"That depends. I'd still like a good explanation as to why you're in my city" stated Ulfric in a lower, more threatening tone.
"Fresh from the court of the little whore queen!" finished the Headdress wearing Nord to Ulfric's right side.
"So, because I spent some time in Solitude, I must, by default, be an Imperial spy?" chuckled Arn.
"In only a matter of weeks you were made a Thane. That's not normal unless...extraordinary services were rendered" Ulfric growled, sitting back again and stroking his beard, putting extra emphasis on 'extraordinary' and 'rendered'.
"Did ya service the little whore's cunt well?" growled the head-dressed Nord, whom Arn was beginning to wonder if he should add to his "to be killed later" list.
"The only services I 'rendered' that got me titled a Thane were done for the good of the people of the land, not the Imperials or the Stormcloaks" angrily retorted Arn "and if your spies were any better at their jobs, then you'd already know that."
"Watch yer tongue, any milk-drinker can make claims of faraway exploits" grunted the Head-dress again, earning another glare from Arn.
"Do you always insult and detain guests to your city this way?" retorted Arn at Ulfric but still looking at the Head-dressed Nord.
"None of the other guests in my city lay claim to the deeds and power that you do" responded Ulfric in turn.
"I laid claim to neither coming here, just simply an adventurer seeking respite, which is the truth, whether you believe it or not" staunchly replied Arn, folding his arms defiantly.
There was a long tension-filled silence before Ulfric spoke up again.
"Well, if you're so eager to help the people of the land, I should put you to work. I have several tasks that a man of your...caliber could accomplish"
"But Ulfric-" the Head dress began to remonstrate before Ulfric cut him off.
"I have an important task for you to embark on right away. In fact, Galmar and a contingent of my troops will go with you as backup to the ruins of Korvanjund to retrieve something very important to all of Skyrim. He can fill you in on the way" Ulfric finished with a wave of his hand as the guards all turned and pushed Arn toward the door as Galmar fell in right behind them.
As they marched down the steps out of the Palace of Kings, Arn felt the presence of the larger Galmar Stonefist at his shoulder before he heard him whisper into his ear.
"Ulfric doesn't think you're gonna tuck tail an' run, but if the urge to be a coward takes ya, just remember, yer friend will pay the price" Galmar whispered menacingly as he nodded at Candlehearth Hall as they passed, Arn noting the guards posted at the door.
Lydia...
Turns out coming to Windhelm wasn't such a good idea, Arn gritted to himself angrily as he continued looking back over his shoulder at the Inn as they moved toward the stables.
Author's notes:
1. I portray healing potions a little differently than some might expect. In a video game, chugging a potion like Popeye does Spinach might work well, but it feels kind of out of place in a story. Hopefully, that doesn't throw anyone off.
2. I made mention to an effect hangover. The idea behind that is that even if you were magically/potion healed of a major injurie(s), it would take your mind awhile to catch up to the fact, leading to days or longer of a sort of hangover effect.