Skyrim, Windhelm, Argonian Assemblage
21st of Last Seed (Thtithil), Sundas, 4E 202
A hard body jolt awoke Sal-Gheel in his wooden hay bed. The male Argonian blinked several times and shook himself into full wakefulness beneath the heavy fur blankets on the bed. He shivered not from the freezing frosty cold of Windhelm. The small Argonian Assemblage was uncomfortably silent around him. The light breathing of his fellow Argonians and the occasional crackling from the dying fire in the log pit on the eastern wall punctuated the weightless quietude.
For a single lucid moment, Sal had been somewhere else. He felt it, smelled it, heard it, tasted it, saw it.
Sovngarde.
Sal instinctively raised a clawed hand to his throbbing scaly head. Summoning a quick burst of energy, he threw the blanket off his body and pushed up to a sitting position. He slid his lizard toes inside a pair of bear-fur shoes. Their soft thickness granted him a unique cozy warmth to his feet. He mindfully stood up, careful not to make any noise. He grabbed a fur-trimmed cloak from underneath his bed and shuffled his way across the large single room to ever so quietly open the doors and leave the Assemblage.
He emerged from the dark to behold a calm Skyrim summer night. Crickets buzzed rhythmically in the distance and the waking birds in the trees across the river chirped melodically as they greeted the early dawn in tandem. The sheer stabbing frosty cold confused Sal's nerves. He felt warm and snug inside his fur-trimmed cloak. The sky glowed in a vast green and blue aurora amongst an iridescent crimson half-moon and pearly stars.
Sal closed the double doors silently and descended the short stone staircase onto the dock. Perhaps unconsciously, he wandered onto one of the marinas to gaze absentmindedly at the coming sunrise.
Sal inspected his reflection in the icy water. He was a moderately tall leafgreen-skinned Argonian. A smooth high chin and facial spikes on raised cheekbones punctuated his round scaly face. Piercing cyan-blue irises rested in plain white pupils, a stark contrast to the clear glassy ice of the water beneath. Two small opposable bone horns on his head extended from his flat brow. A tuft of short indigo feathers glowed brilliantly upon his scalp in the morning sunlight. He was not a muscular Argonian, rather lithe and svelte for his type, flexible and thin. Beneath his long-sleeved maroon tunic lay a broad flat chest and a smooth torso and stomach. His lengthy spiny lizard tail protruded from the rear of his ankle-length khaki breeches. At five feet eight inches, Sal cut an impressive yet unintimidating figure.
He stared deep into the half-frozen water lost in pensive contemplative thought. He wrapped his fur cloak closer around himself, stared across the White River, and let his mind wander.
"Don't fall in, my love. I'd hate to have to pull you out before you freeze to death."
Sal glanced away from the river at the sound of the approaching voice and saw none other than his wife coming towards him. Shahvee of the Windhelm Argonian Assemblage wedded Sal no less than a year ago. She held her pregnant belly delicately and walked the length of the marina to her mate's side.
Sal instantly deflated. "Sorry, Shahvee. I wasn't planning to fall in, I promise. I just…needed some fresh air." He wrapped his other arm around his mate's waist and kissed her again on the side of the head. "Why are you awake, my love?"
"I could ask the same of you, Sal," Shahvee returned the kiss on Sal's cheek. "It's dawn and you're awake earlier than you normally are. What's wrong, dear?"
When Sal did not answer, Shahvee sighed in resignation, opened one side of the fur cloak, and spread it over her usual green dress. She placed one gentle clawed hand on her husband's cheek and spoke to him comfortingly. "It was the nightmares again, wasn't it?"
Sal looked back at her with a mix of undeniable fear and sadness, and nodded pitifully, most uncharacteristic of the brave and powerful Dragonborn.
"Oh, Sal…" Shahvee moved her sympathetic hand from Sal's cheek down to his chest and landed on his heart. "I'm so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help you. Do you want to talk about them in detail, the nightmares?"
She stared at Sal's anxious eyes with pure warmth and love. "Please tell me what you dream of at night, Sal-Gheel. What is in your mind's eye when you fell asleep at night in our bed? What do you see when you close your eyes?"
Sal gulped nervously, and his face vaguely drained of color at his wife's curious questions, no matter how genuine and empathetic. He gazed again into the depths of the icy water that lapped calmly against the stone marina. His fearful voice came barely above a whisper.
"I…I don't know if I want to talk about it, Shahvee. If I do, then I fear all the memories might come back to me. I fear I may not be able to stop talking about them."
The sudden feeling of her lips on his pulled him out of his reverie. "I understand. I'm here for you, Sal," she whispered in his ears, a loving, consoling sound that was nothing short of caring and cherishing. "You're not alone. I am here, and you're safe now. There's nothing for you to be worried about or afraid of. Alduin is defeated. The Dragons are gone. The world is saved. Your duty as the Dragonborn is done. You'll never need to return to Sovngarde or be troubled by the Dragons ever again. I assure you of that."
"Then why do they still haunt me?" Sal questioned skeptically, his brow creasing in worry. "Why does Alduin continue to vex me so a year after his destruction? The Greybeards told me I have done my part as Dragonborn. My destiny is fulfilled. Everyone has said that. Why, then, do I yet feel its weight on me?"
"I wish those were questions I could answer, Sal," Shahvee admitted with a defeatist sigh, lightly rubbing Sal's chest. "But I can't. I also wish I could tell you to simply accept things as they are. But that would not solve your problems and instead, make them worse. Perhaps, if we just let them run their course, the nightmares may go away."
"Were it so easy," Sal muttered forlornly under his breath.
Shahvee gave him another comforting kiss on his other cheek. "Sal-Gheel, listen to me. Your nightmares are natural. I'm no expert on these things. However, I can tell you that what you are going through is normal. I assure you we will find the answers. We'll rid you of the plague of your memories of Sovngarde and Alduin forever. I'll not let these dark visions hold you back from what truly matters in your life."
"Our life, Shahvee," Sal corrected her and placed his hand on her belly. "What once was two shall soon be three."
"When the time is right," Shahvee smiled promisingly. "That's for the Hist to decide. We've done our part, Sal. Let nature and time handle the rest. Who knows? They may heal you of your nightmares, too. A little thoughtful prayer to the Divines might also help."
She cradled Sal's face in her hands. "For now, I want you to remain as positive and as hopeful as you can be. This is a wonderful and happy time for us, and our fellow Argonians as well. We are soon to be parents to beautiful hatchlings. Turn your frown upside down, and let yourself smile, hmm?"
"'Sometimes life puts you in difficult circumstances you didn't choose,'" Sal thought aloud, quoting his wife's invaluable advice from a year ago. "'But being happy or unhappy is a choice you make, and I've chosen to make the best of things that I can.'"
"See?" Shahvee giggled. Her bright optimistic laugh lifted Sal's anxious heart. "I have rubbed off on you." She dropped her hands by her side and offered her arm to Sal. "Come back to bed, sweetheart."
Sal did not hesitate to wrap his arm around Shahvee's. Together, the husband and wife Argonians returned to the Assemblage. Sal found himself in an empty dreamless sleep that dawn. He slept rather soundly as the sun's first yellow morning rays beamed high over the horizon of Windhelm.
That morning, Sal woke up at the same time as everybody else. He immediately sat up in bed and swung his long legs over the side, rubbing his eyes with his elbow. Around him, the murmurings of the other Argonians filtered in and out of his ears as they wandered about the Assemblage preparing breakfast and drinks.
"Another day, another Septim," grumbled Stands-in-Shallows, sitting down in front of the fire pit and lazily stoking it to life. "You'd think they'd come to their senses and give us a day or two off after all this backbreaking work. If it's as so simple as they say, then why don't they do it themselves?"
"You know those Nords," chuckled Neetrenaza in his usual cynical bitterness. "They don't like doing any work that doesn't benefit them personally. It's a pride thing, Stands, and pride must be maintained. Unlike an Argonian, humility is not in the Nords' vocabulary. I thought we knew that by now, or at least we would've learned it."
"Peace, my brothers," counseled the patient and modest Scouts-Many-Marshes. "We'll tackle today the same we've tackled all the days before it: with endurance and long-suffering. Besides, don't forget, we too have much reason to rejoice. The Dragons are destroyed. Our dock work pay is now more substantial and sufficient to support ourselves and each other. What's more, our egg sister Shahvee and her husband Sal-Gheel are soon to bear a hatchling. Is that not also a reason to be happy? Lastly, the Nords are so proud that it's easier for us to take advantage of them. We keep for ourselves whatever they don't want. We win and they lose. Everyone's happy."
The former two nodded and murmured their agreement, and sat down to breakfast.
Sal put on his fur shoes and cloak and stood up straight. His nose twitched at the alluring aromas of bacon and eggs frying in a pan and leftover stew heating up in the cooking pot. Shahvee also awoke and sat up in the blankets. She yawned and pushed herself to her feet at a noticeably slower pace than her mate, who helped her to join the others at the dining table.
"Good morning, everyone," Sal cheerfully greeted his egg brothers as he and Shahvee seated themselves at the breakfast table. "It's another workday. Let's make it a productive one, aye?"
He sliced up a large loaf of wheat bread on a chopping board and passed it around the table. Neetrenaza poured mugs of hot coffee for the group. Scouts-Many-Marshes scraped the last bits of fried eggs and bacon onto the couple's plates, then handed out bowls of hot freshly-cooked vegetable stew.
"So, Shahvee, Sal," Stands-In-Shallows casually sipped his coffee and inquired of the married couple. "How are you two? When are the hatchlings due?"
"I wish we could say, Stands-In-Shallows," Sal exchanged a look of slight trepidation with Shahvee. "I'm afraid neither of us can answer honestly."
"I've been holding eggs in my womb for the longest time now," Shahvee rubbed her belly up and down as if expecting something to pop out of it. "Although I haven't been able to lay one, I'm not going to give up. I am certain that the Hist will bless us with a healthy hatchling birth. Zenithar will grant us sustainable bounty."
"No doubt about that," Scouts-Many-Marshes raised his coffee mug high in the air. "Let us hope for the Divines' favor, that They may smile down on us from the heavens above. May we pray in our hearts that the Hist shall grant its essence to us, and especially to Sal and Shahvee and their future children. To the Hist!"
"To the Hist!" echoed the other Argonians.
After breakfast, they all filed out in a group to the Windhelm docks and split off to their various duties. Shahvee mindfully held her belly and descended the stairs onto the dock. She made to head for the tanning rack, but Sal gently held her back.
"Whoa there, miss," Sal gently grasped her shoulders. "Where do you think you're going? You are not in the proper physical condition to be doing any sort of labor today."
"What do you mean, Sal?" Shahvee kindly protested. "I can manage myself properly." She carefully pushed herself in front of her husband, deftly sliding the tanning dagger from his belt in the same smooth motion. She chuckled lightly at his sheer lack of reaction. "No one else in Windhelm can tan fur better than me."
"Yeah, that's nice, honey," Sal dismissed in a faux deadpan tone. He smirked playfully, held the dagger by the blade, and reflexively flipped it from Shahvee's fingers to his own. "You're also pregnant. The Nords recognize that. They think you deserve your maternity leave. I talked to Torbjorn Shatter-Shield last week, too. He's agreed to give us double pay while you're in your gestation state." He laid the dagger flat in his palms and walked past Shahvee to the tanning rack.
"Oh!" Shahvee's eyes widened at the surprise news. "Right. You did tell me about that. Well, I guess I'll just stay out here, then. I suppose I can't argue with the Dragonborn, can I?" She stressed the word over her shoulder comically. The unoffended Sal snickered and smirked. Shahvee, sensing no other option, returned up the snow-covered stairs and sat comfortably on the top step, overlooking the docks and cradling her belly. After a couple of minutes, she eventually returned inside the Assemblage.
Sal knelt in front of the tanning rack. A half-shaved wolf fur from the low mountain ranges was stretched on its frame. Sal had worked on it for a solid week on his wife's behalf. He raised his dagger and began meticulously tanning from the upper left corner of the fur downwards. Behind him, Scouts-Many-Marshes piled armfuls of firewood from the marinas. Stands-In-Shallows unloaded small cargo boxes from the Nord ships. Neetrenaza sat at his grindstone sharpening the usual load of iron swords and daggers.
As Sal worked hard on the white wolf fur, Scouts-Many-Marshes came over to his side. He carried his usual armful of chopped firewood.
"Good morning, Sal," Scouts-Many-Marshes greeted him cheerfully. "Did you sleep well last night? You look a bit drowsy."
Sal blew snow from his nostrils. His tanning knife slowed a tad on the wolf's fur. His eyelids drooped noticeably over his eyes. He pressed a hand to his mouth as he let out a long yawn. "No, not really. Not well at all." He gave Scouts-Many-Marshes a friendly smile. "What do you need?"
"Nothing," Scouts-Many-Marshes gingerly bent down and dropped his load of firewood on the dock floor beside the tanning rack. "I wanted to talk; see how you're doing. Have you been well lately?"
He leaned casually on the wooden poles of the tanning rock, one foot curled behind the other and his scaly tail swishing lazily through the air. "Shahvee been keeping you awake?"
Sal snorted with laughter and shook his head. "No, definitely not. She's been keeping me on my toes, though." He looked down at his kneeling position in front of the tanning rack. "Or on my knees, I should say."
"That's good to know," Scouts-Many-Marshes smiled brightly. Then he lowered his voice discreetly and leaned forward over the side of the rack. "And how have you slept? How are your nightmares?"
Sal stopped at the top of the wolf fur. A blank look painted his green face. Scouts-Many-Marshes sensed the confusion, the hesitation, and the tentativeness in his egg brother's heart.
Sal blinked a few times to regain his composure, then lowered the knife carefully to his side, laying it flat across his knee. "They're not getting any better," he confessed, his voice somewhat hopeless. He stared up at Scouts-Many-Marshes' concerned face with an unsure expression.
"I had another one last night. Every time I close my eyes, it's the same visions: Sovngarde, the Hall of Valor, the mists. Alduin the World-Eater. I keep seeing them in my head. Sooner or later, before you know it," he snorted again, this time in sarcastic derision. "I'll start hearing voices."
"Divines forbid that happens!" Scouts-Many-Marshes hissed defiantly. "We won't allow that, Sal. We're here for you. You know that. We all are."
As Sal resumed tanning the wolf fur again, Scouts-Many-Marshes knelt beside him and grabbed him by the shoulders. Sal allowed his brother to turn his face toward him.
"Listen to me, Sal-Gheel." Scouts-Many-Marshes' voice was firm and promising, yet also warm and reassuring. "We won't let you suffer through this alone. We love you and want the best for you. Dragonborn or not, you are one of the Argonian Assemblage. We were already a tight-knit group between the four of us before you came along and changed our lives forever. Then you married Shahvee and brought warmth and happiness to her life beyond what anyone else could bring her. You became one of us after you hung up your weapons and became an Argonian of peace. That makes us family."
Sal nodded in understanding but did not say a word. A twinkle of enlightenment shone behind his piercing blue eyes.
Scouts-Many-Marshes continued. "Now, you and Shahvee are about to have a hatchling. Everything you do from here on out must be for your new family. Our wages are improving and we're doing better work than before. What's there to be pessimistic about? The Nords have begun to appreciate us, giving us extra breaks when we need them, and Shahvee gets her maternity leave. Alduin and the Dragons are gone from this world, and the Civil War is resolved in favor of the Empire. We have cause to rejoice and be joyful." He stroked Sal's face between his clawed hands like Shahvee often did. "These nightmares shall pass in time, Sal. I promise you."
"I hope you're right," Sal agreed in a rather unconfident whisper.
Scouts-Many-Marshes released Sal's face and stood back up. Sal twirled the tanning knife between his fingers and restarted on the wolf fur.
"I'll let you get back to work," Scouts-Many-Marshes turned on his heels to go retrieve more firewood.
"Scouts!" Sal called over his shoulder at Scouts-Many-Marshes, who looked back and smiled kindly. Sal found himself matching his expression. "Thank you, my dear brother."
Scouts-Many-Marshes nodded reassuringly. "Anytime, Sal." He spun on his heels and walked away back to the marinas.
Spurred by a sudden fire of determination, Sal worked faster and harder on the tanning rack. A spark of hope ignited in his heart. Wolf fur rained down on his clothes and legs. He blatantly ignored it. His mind raced at the speed of the legendary Shout Whirlwind Sprint, which enabled him to move faster than the arctic winds of Skyrim. His scaly tail swept the wolf fur from his clothes as he continued to shave the pelt into soft leather. He took his time and meticulously minded even the tiniest detail. At last, after an hour and a half, he took the completed leather off the rack and hoisted it over his shoulder back inside the Assemblage. He carried the collected fur in a wicker basket.
"Shahvee," he called to his wife who was sitting on their shared bed in the middle of the room. "What do you think about this?" He spread the patch of leather open to show her as she stood up to inspect it.
"Oh, that looks fantastic, Sal!" Shahvee held her belly in one hand and caressed the leather meticulously with the other. "You did a wonderful job, all things considered." She chuckled and winked playfully at her husband. "Not bad for a novice."
Sal grinned and laid the leather flat on the large breakfast table. He creased out the sides and unfolded the corners. "What exactly do you plan to do with it?"
Shahvee gestured at the four beds of the Assemblage. "I've been thinking of imprinting some nice Argonian symbols on it. I want to drape it over the feet boards of the beds. They've looked so dull for years. I think they could use decorations to give them some life and Argonian style for a change. No better way to do it than with signs and symbols of Argonia, I reckon. Does that sound like a good idea to you, Sal?"
Sal took a handful of snowberries from a bowl and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully and listening to his wife detail her plans to him. "That sounds like a brilliant idea, Shahvee. I'm sure the others will appreciate it. It's just like having a bit of Black Marsh with us. A little bit of home."
He showed her the basket full of wolf fur. "And what of these, my dear? What shall I do with this leftover fur?"
Shahvee hummed tactfully and rubbed the soft fur between her fingers. "Maybe we can make a coat out of this, something to wear to ward off the cold. Yes, I think the wolf fur is perfect for a coat. There's more than plenty of it, we can sell the leftovers to the market. The same goes for the leather, too."
"Great idea," Sal swallowed his mouthful of snowberries and nodded in agreement. "Autumn is on its way, so we'd better make sure we're prepared." He swiped another handful of snowberries.
Shahvee chuckled amusedly. "For the Hist's sake, if you're going to gorge yourself on those, Sal, do it outside. I won't have you making a sticky mess in our otherwise immaculate home."
Sal snickered and promptly turned away from Shahvee playfully brandishing her stamping mallet at him. He held his second handful of snowberries close to his chest and stepped aside to let his wife have her workspace.
"Are you sure you want to do this right now, Shahv?" Sal wondered aloud in genuine concern. "Why not wait until after you've put out eggs when you're feeling better and less burdened by carrying them?"
Shahvee determinedly shook her head. "Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I can't still contribute to the wellbeing of this Assemblage. I'm choosing to make the best of my maternity leave, instead of sitting around and complaining about it. If I'm going to have my time off to become a future mother, then I might as well do something with the spare time. That includes taking up a new hobby and craft. Now step aside and let the professional show you how it's done."
Sal watched in fascinated admiration as Shahvee first dampened the leather with water to soak the surface fibers. She returned the leather to the table and spun her stamping mallet around and around in her hand, and leaned over to kiss Sal on the cheek.
"You can leave if you want to, honey, if you've got other work to do. I've got this covered."
Sal gladly kissed her back, more passionately on the lips. He knew Shahvee had spent most of her maternity leave picking up this new craft. She had become quite an expert in the art form. "Okay, then. I'll leave you to it. I'd love to see your creations."
He returned outside to the tanning rack and got to work on a bear hide followed by a fox fur. Back inside the Assemblage, Shahvee lent him her sewing needle and thread. He threaded the tiny fussy silver needle. While she stamped the leather, Sal sewed the wolf fur into the form of a coat. After a couple of long arduous hours of cobbling, the bear hides became shoes, and the fox fur became gloves. They were both wrapped in leather saved from Shahvee's past tanning work.
Shahvee held up the first completed rectangle of leather to her husband. "What do you think of this?"
Sal looked up from sewing stitches into the fingers of the fox-fur gloves and beheld the wide white decorative leather patch. Shahvee had adorned it in a stamped leather portrait of the Hist Tree encircled by ritualistic Argonian symbols. He smiled warmly. "Why, it looks beautiful, Shahvee! It's a work of art worthy of Argonia!"
Shahvee beamed brighter than the fire in the log pit. "Thank you so much, Sal! I know I can always count on you for your honesty!" She walked over to one of the middle beds and spread the leather on the footboard. "I'm going to place this on Scouts-Many-Marshes' bed. I just know he'll love it so."
"I'm going to go to town. You'll be okay here by yourself?" Sal held his egg mate gently by the shoulders and peppered her face with kisses.
Shahvee jabbed her thumb confidently at herself and smiled. "I'll be dandy, Sal." Her eyes twinkled in the golden firelight. "I've got the home decorating covered. Leave it to me."
Sal finished the new shoes and gloves and left them under his and Shahvee's bed. He fetched his coinpurse and Iron Dagger and went back outside. There, he leaned over the stone fence that separated the Assemblage and the main docks. He licked cold snowberry juice from his fingers. Once more, his mind wandered off. He found himself scratching his claws absentmindedly on the surface of a gray rectangular snow-covered brick. He didn't see Neetrenaza coming up the steps holding an empty tankard.
"Sal?" Neetrenaza asked, his usual gruff and cynical demeanor now coated in curious concern. "Are you all right?"
Sal blinked and looked up in surprise at the other Argonian, who also leaned on the stone brick wall and raised his eyebrows at him.
"Huh?" Sal stammered, clearly alarmed at having been lost in thought. "Yeah...I'm fine, Neet. Do you need anything? May I get you a drink?"
"No, it's fine," Neetrenaza waved his tankard dismissively. "I can help myself. But the real question is, Sal, can you? You don't look so well. You seem out of the moment."
Sal shook his head in denial. "No, I'm perfectly rooted in the moment, thank you very much. Being the Dragonborn means always being present in the moment. You never know what might happen. A dragon could swoop down on me, or a bear, or a walking slaughterfish on two bony fleshy legs, or a Frost Troll from the mountains."
"Well," the sarcastic Neetrenaza pointed a nonchalant claw at the brick on which Sal carved his claws. "You've certainly brought a dragon down upon us."
Sal looked down at his unconscious "handiwork" and nearly jumped in his clothes in fright. To his surprise, he saw a rough sketch in the likeness of a faceless dragon in flight lightly etched on the stone brick. He didn't know what to think of it.
Dragonborn.
Sal stood up straight and facepalmed himself. He hung his head and groaned stressfully. Neetrenaza did not say a word. A minute of silence between them passed. The sounds of their working Argonian brothers on the docks below and the flighty conversations of the Nord sailors permeated the tentative stillness.
After another minute, Sal lifted his head and turned on his heels. He walked off toward the corner to the foot of the short staircase that led into the city of Windhelm. "I'm going into town. I'll do some shopping and get a drink. I need to think."
Once Sal disappeared around the corner, Neetrenaza turned to see Stands-In-Shallows coming up the stairs, also holding his empty tankard.
"Is something the matter with our Sal-Gheel?" Stands-In-Shallows inquired, tilting his head curiously. "Has he forgotten what it feels like to swim free; to work, live, and be free?"
Neetrenaza shook his head in disbelief. "No, nothing is the matter with our Sal-Gheel, rest assured, Stands-In-Shallows. But..." he stared forlornly, concernedly, at the spot where Sal once stood on the balcony. "I do think that something is very much the matter with the Dragonborn."