I don't own anything except the OC and the plot.
6
They were ready to leave a few hours before noon. The original plan had been to depart in the early hours of the morning and it wasn't like packing everything had taken up a long time, but getting Aoife in her disguise did.
She was somewhere up in the cave while Borkul waited right next to the stream. He heard the women's laughs through the cave from time to time, most of times followed by a really mean curse and when Madanach's daughter finally came down, he only stifled back a mocking comment because he saw the menacing look in her eyes.
Apparently Dana hadn't only had her fun by lacing her friend up in a dress, but also by braiding her long brown hair into something that could be inspired by what a Breton might wear. It was strange to see her – what most people would call – properly dressed. Trying not to step on the long skirt, Aoife stopped before him.
"This is humiliating", she growled and looked mournfully at her armor that Dana put into the backpack.
"No, you look...", Borkul said carefully and tried not to laugh. "...lovely?"
"Shut up, you look like a kettle!" She tapped her finger against his chest that was covered in steel and the metallic sound emphasized her statement. He chuckled but secretly agreed with her. He hadn't worn an armor in years. Even before they had thrown him into Cidhna Mine, he had preferred leather and chain mail over steel. But in the last months the Forsworn armor had grown on him, even if it didn't deserve to be called armor in his opinion. The protection it offered was close to non-existing, but the feeling of walking outside in the wind and sun with nothing but this primal dress was exhilarating.
But most Orsimer seemed to prefer heavy armor and in order to blend in, he had agreed to wear it. A steel sword completed his outfit. It felt unbalanced, but Borkul had been able to sharpen it enough to actually do some damage if he had to. He was sure, they wouldn't attract any unwanted attention on the road. Aoife now looked like someone who would hire a thug for a longer journey and he knew, he looked like one.
"This will take forever. How am I suppose to move in this thing?", the woman beside him moaned. "And where do I put my sword?"
"In your backpack with your other clothes", Dana said. "Don't destroy all my effort by wearing a traditional weapon openly!"
Aoife's mouth twisted downwards. "Why can't I have an armor as well?"
"Because we don't have one that fits you. If you come across a Nord woman small enough, feel free to take hers", Madanach's voice joined them. He inspected his daughter's clothes with a grim look and nodded agreeingly. "Do you remember what we discussed?"
"About the journey? Yes, father", Aoife said with an annoyed undertone and with crossed arms she imitated her father's voice so well, Borkul had to turn away to hide his grin. "Don't walk past Markarth, take the road to the east, carry a bundle of juniper branches past the Broken Tower, stay clear of Rorikstead, avoid Serpent's Bluff and Karthspire, don't talk to Imperial troops or Stormcloaks or any Nord at all, basically avoid any contact at all – did I miss something?"
"No", Madanach said with a slight smile. "That's pretty well summarized."
"Great, can we leave now?"
"Do you have the present for your host?"
"Yes, father." Aoife rolled her eyes and turned around. The king still looked slightly worried, but Borkul himself didn't share his worries about their journey. Everything would go smoothly and if not, he would react accordingly. All the time her father had been imprisoned, his daughter had been able to look after herself, so why not now? As far as he knew, she had been in all corners of the Reach many times before. But maybe Madanach tried to make up the lost time by being overcautious and daughters were a man's greatest weakness after all.
The young woman picked up her backpack, hugged her friend and her father and left the cave without another word. Borkul quickly followed her and grinned again when he saw her dragging the skirt up to her knees. It was most likely that it would slow them down, but he didn't mind the journey to take longer. As curious as he was to see other Forsworn settlements, being on the road again was something he looked forward to. Any opportunity to walk under the open sky after spending years underground was welcomed.
They followed the river bank for a long time. It would lead them past a lake and then to the foot of the Druadach mountains before they would ultimately meet the road near Karthwasten, but they wouldn't visit the mining village. The road south led past Markarth and, even if it was easier to walk, Madanach didn't want to take the risk of one of the guards recognizing Borkul, so they had to walk around the Karthspire the other way.
Shortly before they reached the road, Aoife let her skirt fall to her ankles again and began breaking off a few branches from a nearby juniper. Borkul watched her silently until she had collected enough branches and continued their way.
"Why the branches?", he asked and followed the woman down the rocks to the road.
"For identification", she answered and nearly stumbled over her skirt again. "Oh curse this thing!"
When he still looked confused, she explained, "We'll be passing Broken Tower. It's right beside the road and the tribe there has a habit of attacking passing travelers. We don't want our disguise to work too well on them, do we? My father sent word that we'll be passing and hopefully they will oblige."
"'Hopefully'?"
"Yeah, well, they don't have to... but we're on good terms with them, so I'm confident." Aoife didn't look concerned and placed the bundle of branches openly in her arms.
"Shouldn't they listen to Madanach – he's the king, isn't he?" They crossed the river over a stony bridge and it didn't take long until the old fort came into view.
"That's kind of complicated...", she said silently and looked up to the high walls. Even though it was ruined, Broken Tower Redoubt looked highly defendable. Borkul saw movement on all three levels while they walked past. He waited for an arrow to hit them. One of the Forsworn, a middle-aged woman, stepped to the balustrade and watched them closely.
Aoife raised her hand in greeting, but it was only acknowledged with a nod.
"They're a bit weird, but mostly okay..", she whispered so the woman couldn't hear them. "Broken Tower is home to Dreygres and his tribe. His people are... uh... just women."
"Lucky him." Borkul looked up to the woman who watched them pass. Another, younger one had joined her.
Aoife smiled sourly. "Depends on how you see it.. I don't know how many are his mates and how many are his daughters, but I do know that he doesn't distinguish much between them."
She giggled at his disgusted expression and with a last careful look, hurried past the fort. The moment they past the last wall, she dropped the branches on the side of the road and brushed the last bits of bark off her hands.
"What about the sons? Do they kill them?" He looked back to the fort and furrowed his brows. That seemed like an even stranger tradition than the ones he had heard of before.
"Probably. Not all of them, though. In fact, you will meet one of them shortly – Niall was born here", she said with a smile. "His mother left her tribe after she discovered she had given birth to a boy. You know, they're no prisoners, they can leave anytime... and no, I don't know why most of them decide to stay, I don't understand it either."
"But... they are Forsworn, aren't they? Why are they so different?"
The Orc altered his pace to walk beside her. He had a crease between his brows as he tried to make sense of this and Aoife felt like she should explain more. A lot of things regarding her people must seem strange to him, at least if she thought about what she had heard was common in the rest of the land.
Dragging her skirt back up to let her legs move more freely, she walked on. "It all depends on the leader, I think. You see, our tribes are more separated than you might think. That's why it is so difficult to coordinate them to strike together. Broken Tower Redoubt doesn't care about what's going on as long as they're left alone. Many other clans are led by a matriach – a hagraven –, rarely more than one and they're usually more caught up in their own affairs. Reuniting our people would be to their disadvantage, wouldn't it? Hagravens can't work in a large group, they'd be pecking out each others eyes more than leading us. They're afraid they'd loose influence, I think..."
Borkul didn't answer and just his heavy steps reassured her that he was still at her side. "They are other matriachs, of course, those who seek even more influence. That's why we have to avoid Serpent's Bluff and the camp at the Karthspire. Beside fighting each other, they're also very eager to reclaim our land from the east but without the assistance of other tribes. Our relationship with them is.. unstable, if you will..."
"I'm getting a headache", the Orc growled and Aoife had to stifle her laugh.
"It's making my head ache for nearly ten years now...", she agreed. "Oh, but before I forget... Lost Valley Redoubt is in fact led by two hagravens and we'll have to obey them for the time we're there. Their clan, their rules... but I doubt we will see much of them."
"Good", he said with little bit of discomfort in his voice. Aoife couldn't blame him, she was used to hagravens, honored and appreciated everything they did and had done for her people, but from his point of view, she understood. He had to get used to it and maybe even learn to respect the hags if he wanted to live like one of her people.
Their progress on the road was slow and wearying. It was mainly because Aoife slowed them down, her dress seemed to be weighted down with rocks. The bindings around her chest made it difficult to breathe and it was incredible hot under all that fabric. How did other woman deal with this? She had never felt this restricted before.
They walked for many eventless hours, following the cobblestone road until a few lonely houses appeared in the distance. Aoife felt her head burning and reached for her waterskin to quench her thirst. Only a few drops fell on her tongue, not enough to wet her throat. With a groan she let the empty goat skin sink.
"Maybe we should take a rest?", Borkul suggested and handed her his water. "How much longer until we reach Lost Valley Redoubt?"
"A few hours at least." She gulped down some water and with a slightly embarrassed look, handed him back the waterskin. It was nearly empty as well.
"As far as I remember, the river's a few hours away as well, am I right?"
"Yes..." Aoife had the urge to rip this awful dress off that made her drink up all of their supplies. And this wasn't even the worse thing, the restricting fabric and her excessive thirst made her body ache for release every hour and peeing in this thing was even less fun than walking with it.
"Well, Rorikstead is just up ahead..."
"No", she interrupted him.
"...we could go to the inn there, fill up our skins and maybe even rest?"
Rest did sound like a wonderful idea, but she had promised her father not to go into the village. She had been to Nord villages before, but never for long. And definitely not for taking a break at the local inn.
"Then how do you want to make it to the river?", Borkul said with a grin. He loved the idea of spending a few hours at an inn. Even though he enjoyed staying at the cave and the camp was comfortable, the thought of sleeping in an actual bed for the first time in nearly thirteen years, was unbelievably tempting.
"I don't know... but still... my father wouldn't approve."
"He doesn't have to know. I won't tell him."
"No, it's too risky", she said firmly.
Borkul saw the prospect of a bed recede into the distance and shrugged. "Fine, as you wish, princess."
Aoife sighed. He had lost count of how many times she had asked him to stop calling her 'princess', but he refused. He enjoyed her annoyed frown more than he actually thought it was a title she deserved and therefore Aoife had switched to ignoring it in hope it would make him stop. So instead of correcting him, she pointed up the hills and led him away from the road. It would bring them too far away from their destination and from now on they had to walk through the wilderness. Walking up the hill, he heard her panting behind him. Every wolf would hear them this way.
"Give me your backpack."
"No, it's fine.. I can do this", she panted, but he ignored her. Instead, he walked back to her and pulled the bundle from her shoulder. Without reacting to her protest, Borkul continued his way up the hill, now with both of their backpacks. The additional weight didn't hinder him as long as he was still able do get his sword.
"I do this so I don't have to carry you at one point, princess."
He heard the stifled curse behind his back and grinned. On top of the hill he waited for her and when she finally made it up, her head was red and her fingers clenched into the hem of her skirt.
After a short break, they continued the journey. Careful to avoid getting too close to the local Forsworn settlement, their path led them across the plateau until a nearly overgrown trail led them back down to the road. They crossed it and Aoife stopped. The Karth ran in front of them and up the mountainside he saw, drenched in the very last rays of the setting sun, an impressive ruin that went all the way up. Figures moved on some of the walls, but were too far away to make out details. If this was their destination, it was the largest Forsworn settlement Borkul had ever seen.
"I need some help", the woman announced and started to undo the bindings of her dress.
"What are you doing?", Borkul asked with confusion.
"I can't walk up there dressed like this." She turned her back towards him and pulled her hair to the front. "Do you mind?"
No, he didn't mind, not at all. Letting the backpacks drop to the ground, he stepped behind her. Getting the dress loose was more complicated than Borkul had thought – he was more the type to rip if it got to complicated – but Aoife guided him which knots he had to undo until she peeled it off with a sigh. Borkul tried not to stare at the woman in front of him, but he couldn't stop himself from getting a quick glance before he turned around.
He had seen her in her traditional armor all those weeks and it was as close to wearing nothing as it got, but even though all of the Forsworn weren't exactly shy about their bodies, he had never seen her naked. Her skin seemed to glow in the orangey light and looked so soft, Borkul had to forcefully hold back his hand. He knew how soft it was, he had touched her during their training many times, but never too obvious.
"Oh finally! I will quickly dunk into the river. You should get changed as well", Aoife said with a light voice. She hadn't noticed him staring at her back. Half-tempted to ask for her help to unbuckle his armor, he turned around to dig through his backpack.
"Try not to drink it empty", he muttered and was answered by a soft laugh followed by the splashing of water. He didn't take another look while he changed into the Fornsworn clothes. For a moment it was weird to feel the wind on this much exposed skin again, but a second later he enjoyed it. Borkul hadn't noticed how warm and restricting the steel armor had been until he got rid of it.
A dripping body appeared at his side and Aoife fished her own clothes from her backpack. She had undone her braid and her long hair stuck to her skin in wet strands. Borkul took a step back and looked up to the ruin to distract himself.
"You don't have to be nervous", she said, misinterpreting his silence. "If we have accepted you, they will, too."
"You didn't accept me in the beginning."
"Yeah, but I do now, don't I?" Aoife appeared fully dressed at his side and smiled widely. "Let's go visit our friends." Borkul didn't follow her right away and watched her as she jumped from one rock to the next to cross the river without getting her feet wet. One time she nearly slipped and squeaked as she tried to regain her balance, laughing it off when she found it. Her light mood was contagious and he couldn't hold back a slight smile when he followed her up the many steps.