A Redeemed Thief

by Aragon9021

During the mission Lights Out, Deeja gets saved by a mysterious stranger, and exiled from the Blackbloods. She must now find a way to survive.

2. Chapter 2

Frostfall. The time of the year when the skies are grey and winds are strong. I had dawned warmer clothes earlier this day, leaving behind my usual armour. I could protect myself without it fine enough. The path that led to Solitude was rather lonely and uneventful, it seemed the wolves and bandits had decided that the weather was too dull for even them. I had received a letter from the Jarl of Solitude, the Soon-to-be High Queen of Skyrim herself, Elisif the Fair. Me and her had fallen into good graces after I had carried the deceased High King's horn to a shrine of Talos, the horn serving as a tribute to the God. We had become rather good friends actually, so much so that I had become her Thane. Her trust also meant that she would ask me to deal with her most urgent and sensitive problems, be that persuading or talking to Lords who were against her or dealing with those who threatened her Hold. This was one of those cases, the Jarl having sent me a letter requesting that I deal with another group of bandits. They called themselves the 'Blackblood Marauders', and their presence was quite taxing on the resources that came into the Jarls docks.

While I hadn't yet met the Jarl to discuss the finer details, I could already envision her trying to push as big of a gold pile on me as possible. Elisif was always incredibly apologetic in our dealings, believing that she was asking me of too much and giving too little; regardless of how many times I had tried to disprove the notion. Erikur, another Thane of hers, seemed to share my sentiment; often staring daggers at me whenever the Jarl handed me a particularly large bag of coins.

A layer of snow had coated most of Skyrim now, the already cold climate becoming even more chilling. While it hid and blocked paths and slowed down carriages and couriers, the soft, white and smooth layer that covered the usually jagged and harsh landscape of Skyrim was rather beautiful. The snow told stories to those who weren't there to see them, the footprints of a hare ending abruptly as a small pair of wings dented the snow, or many thin lines of hooves traveling across a large field. It was almost like reading a book without words, its chapters undefined and its story often ending as abruptly as it began. I valued these traces of the past very dearly, as they were the only thing occupying my mind and stopping me from going mad from boredom. I wish I would have accepted Serena's offer to adventure with me. She seemed rather eager to join me after we had ended the vampire crisis, though at the time I politely rejected her; however not entirely denying the offer either. Perhaps another time.

I saw the large stone gates in the distance, a hopeful sight that signaled my arrival and my saving grace from, well, solitude. With all the daedric princes I've dealt with, I wish at least one kept me company with their voice. Clearly sitting there looking for which mortal to mess around with next was more entertaining than speaking to the Dragonborn. Hell, even Mephala -who was usually insistent on persuading me into killing the closest innocent being nearby- was completely silent. Oh fuck them, who needs Daedric Princes anyways?

"Argonian! What business do you have here?" Nords were a particularly racist bunch, even those enforcing the law being no exception. I didn't pay much mind to it, for what nights he spent in the cold barracks I often spent in a cozy, warm house. I could always use my title as Thane to quickly shut the arrogant youngster up -the kid seemed seventeen at most, probably lied about his age to get in-, but I didn't want to sink that low. Did I?

"The Jarl has requested my presence, I have a letter from her if you wish to test me on that." What now you milk drinker?

The guard stuttered, caught off guard by my reply, before quickly opening the large wooden doors for me. I didn't exactly declare myself Thane, but I still felt somewhat bad for the kid. No, he had it coming. Largely empty streets and a couple of shopkeepers going about their days is what I was met with when I stepped into the city. It wasn't unusual for the streets to be somewhat barren, though I didn't exactly oppose not having some stuck up Elf criticise my clothing. A short walk and a couple of strangely uplifting comments from the guards about my feats later, I had found myself at the Blue Palace.

A thick layer of snow had covered most of the blue tiled roof, stacking up on ledges and windowsills, and the previously lush and somewhat overgrown plants in the courtyard had withered away in the cold. I opened the entrance to the hall, where I was immediately greeted with warm air and a mildly annoyed Bryling. She made some snarky remarks about politics and honor, though I paid no attention to it and immediately headed up the double staircase.

"Ah, Naarin, it's so good to see you!" Elisif called out to me almost instantly, breaking a conversation her and Erikur were having. "Thank you for arriving so quickly, I wish I could have called someone else to deal with this; unfortunately you are the only capable and trustworthy warrior I know. I'm so sorry, I hope I didn't take too much of your time." The woman rose up from the chair, immediately grabbing me into a hug. It was incredibly strange being so close with a Jarl, especially one with so much importance, but I didn't mind.

Elisif the Fair, Jarl of Solitude and soon-to-be High Queen of Skyrim. The woman was rather lighthearted and soft, her kindness was apparent the second she spoke; even on our first meeting the Jarl treated me with care and compassion. The Nord woman had long ginger hair, green robes adorned with red velvet and golden markings, as well as a pair of thin golden necklaces which carried an amulet of some kind.

"Please do not concern yourself with me my Jarl"

"Naarin, you know very well how much I hate formalities, especially with good friends." The Jarl half jokingly scolded me, though the Thane next to her squinted his eyes at me.

"Lady Elisif, we must still act according to what Nobles are meant to be like. Now about your reason for calling me here."

"Ah, right." She sat down on her throne once more, and I grabbed a nearby chair to sit to the side of her, facing the woman. "These 'Blackblood Marauders', as they call themselves, are a group of bandits that have set up residency in the Solitude Docks. They steal from our ships and dry out our resources. I've sent multiple parties and even seeked the assistance of Imperials, yet every time they came up empty handed. The months are growing more barren and barren, and the boats bring less supplies with each voyage." She spoke in a whisper. "They're straining our resources, soon we won't have enough to feed everyone. I do not wish to trade with the other holds for basic necessities, they might suspect something; and currently Skyrim does not need a weak Jarl ruling the capital city. None of the nobles are aware of anything yet, though I suspect there is someone helping the thieves, perhaps telling them when shipments are going to come into the docks."

"So you wish for me to weed out the traitor?" This was concerning, despite Skyrim being a cold and harsh place, I didn't wish for it to fall. Nor did I want Elisif to have as difficult of a time as she was having now.

"I don't know Naarin, do whatever you must. Though please try not to kill anyone in broad daylight, the residents have been so calm these past months and I don't want to disrupt that." She turned behind her and pulled a large bag of cash, the beige cloth tied at the top with brown leather string, and placed it into my lap. "Here, I hope this is enough."

"Elisif, you know I can't take this, this is too much. This whole mess seems to be concerning you a lot, and I hate to see my Jarl so distressed. I can do this for free, I don't need the coin." I wasn't short on Gold at that moment, far from it. The large amounts of dragon bones I had from dragons that decided to attack me in the middle of my travels were more than enough to allow me to swim in coins, not to mention the loot I gathered from dungeoneering. What lay in my lap was as insignificant to me as it was unnecessary, I truly didn't need or want it. Elisif was one of the few kind souls in this land, a rarity that should be cherished, and helping her was enough of a reward.

The Jarl frowned at me, her hands pressing the bag into my lap. "Naarin, this isn't up for debate. I won't have you travel across half of Skyrim only to go endanger your life for me for free. You will take this gold."

She was a stubborn one. "Lady Elisif, need I remind you of who best wields a sword in this room? Now take that pouch back or I'll be on my way." Naturally I didn't dare threaten the Jarl, this was banter between friends, and her softening face and the rising tips of her mouth were evidence of this.

"Fine, just promise to keep yourself in one piece please? You are one of the few people I truly trust in this palace." Erikur shifted his narrowed glance towards her, though quickly shot his eyes away when the Jarl turned to him. "Erikur, do you mind giving us the reports General Tullius sent me?"

Their searches were fruitless, and I'd prefer starting as soon as possible, so there was little point in seeing those useless pieces of script. "There's no need for that. Thank you Lady Elisif for calling me, and I promise to come back with news of success." I nodded to both the nord Thane and Jarl, before she rose and gave me another hug, though this time shorter. We exchanged our good-byes, and I left the Blue Palace to head to the Docks. This was going to be an eventful day.

…

The Docks were crowded with sailors unloading their goods, a rather large vessel recently having docked filled with barrels and crates. Heavily clothed sailors and merchants heaved barrels to and fro the ship, with each group having a single guard and bookkeeper accompanying them. The occasional merchant still stood at their small stall, making conversation with passerbys. Among the crowd stood a couple of Argonians, seemingly doing nothing but standing and watching the ship. Usually I wouldn't have paid attention to my fellow race being here, though these particular argonians stood out due to their hide and fur armour. Most of them were grouped together much like the sailors, with the exception of one. The distant one was a female, leaning against one of the support beams keeping the dock above water.

In the centre of the group stood another Argonian, though he -unlike those near him- enthusiastically chattered with sailors and guards alike; a large toothy smile plastered on his face. Their apparel was almost a certain sign that they were bandits, perhaps even the ones I was seeking, and the outgoing demeanour of the talkative one meant that he was most likely the leader and wouldn't be too hesitant to talk to me. Maybe this was going to be less of a hassle then I originally thought. I made my way down the dock, passing the few floating ships swaying in the water, and weaved my way through the crowd. I could already hear him now, the Argonian had a rather smooth voice for my kind; one which probably helped him seem more approachable. It wasn't quite as smooth as my own however, as any time I striked conversation people gave me a confused look; stunned by how absent of raspiness my speech was.

I pushed through the last few sailors around him and we came face to face. His colouring was rather uncommon, a mix between light pink and beige for the most of his body, then gradually changing to dark yellow as it approached his face. Maroon feathers lined the back of his head, accompanied by a pair of slightly curved horns. He instantly turned towards me, greeting me with another toothy grin.

"Ah, greetings traveler!" His eyes quickly darted up and down my clothes. "You seem new here. I'm new too. I think we could be friends."

Friends? Alright, an interesting tactic. He seemed to focus on my face, seemingly anticipating a reply. I shot forward a smile, we were going to be friends right?

"Say friend, maybe you're looking for some easy gold, yes?" The Argonian's eyes narrowed, and his friendly demeanour turned into one of expectancy, his tail slowly swaying.

"Maybe I am. What do you have in mind?"

"It's easy to find things to sell. Things nobody will miss. Things from underground, or just left lying around in someone's house. I bet the two of us, we're very alike. So why not take the next step? We can help each other. My sister Deeja and I are treasure hunters. We like to collect things."

"Deeja is the one behind us kneeling against the pole, yes?" He seemed taken aback by my question, though nodded somewhat enthusiastically. I moved to lean against the stone walls, hiding myself from any of the other Argonians. The talkative one joined me, standing opposing me; his body still in sight of the dock workers. "I'm listening."

"I knew you looked like a clever one... With the war, many more ships come through these docks. Loaded with weapons and pay, but few people. And they pass through dangerous waters. We have an interest in one of those boats, the Icerunner. The Solitude Lighthouse will be guiding it in...but if its fire were to go out, the Icerunner would run aground"

"So you want me to put out the Lighthouse fire?" I'm sorry Elisif, but this one loss will be worth it.

His face one again lit up in a wide smile. "Catching on quickly, I see. If someone were to do that, then there would certainly be an amount of loot to be shared. Yes, a large amount of loot. If someone were to put out the Lighthouse and then meet me in the docks afterwards…I could certainly direct them to that loot."

"And what do I call you? I've heard your sister's name, but not yours." He was incredibly annoying, forcing charisma when there was none and glaring and baring seemingly friendly teeth to threaten into submission. I only needed to bear his presence a little longer.

"Ah, yes, you may call me Jaree-Ra." He answered with slight hesitation, perhaps unaware that he had given away his sister's name. Jaree-Ra, as he called himself, reeked of the stench of overconfident bards and cocky inexperienced leaders. He seemed somewhat sharp in tactics, though any semblance of subtlety was lost on the Argonian. This whole scheme was naturally a setup, they would try to kill me the second I came down to that boat. Hell, the shallow cunning was fucking plastered on his grinning little face.

"What would happen to the sailors on board?" The sly bastard's eyes glinted at this, his little mind clearly ecstatic about how 'hooked' I was with his plan.

"Ah, don't worry about them. We'll make sure they wash up alive. Maybe they'll even pay us for the heroic rescue from their sad crash."

I forced a smile on my face, one of equal mistrust and hostility as the one he held, and waved my hand signaling my leave. I hadn't even turned around when I heard the sharp skidding of rock and fast heavy moving of footsteps down the dock. Already off to his sister to probably bathe her in his great plan. While I hadn't asked him when to actually extinguish the lighthouse or found out if he was a Blackblood or not, I more or less had everything I needed. I'd probably see the group of bandits and the ship from the lighthouse, and Blackblood or not; their blood would spill regardless.

I had only recently purchased my property in Solitude, so all of my valuables were still in Breezehome; a mountain range away. I held my hand out into the cold air, a violet aura slowly appearing in my palm. A ghastly neigh rang out in front of me, and shortly thereafter its owner appeared. Arvak was a skeletal steed I had acquired in the soul cairn after freeing its soul from the wretched place. The steed was a shade of plum, nothing but his bones remaining from his original body. A purple flame substituted the hair on his tail and neck, wisping and burning as he moved. His previous owner had taught me the spell to summon the undead horse, and from that point onwards Arvak had become my lifeline for quickly traveling Skyrim.

...

The road to Whiterun was uneventful at large, about as exciting as going to Belethor's; you might find the occasional nuisance along the way, but the trip is largely successful. In the case of this analogy, my nuisance was a trio of bandits who seemed strangely unphased by the undead horse beneath me. I had quickly killed them, their exposed necks serving little resistance for my blade, before continuing on my way and forgetting about the encounter entirely. The area around Dragon Bridge always seemed more chaotic than the rest of the way to Whiterun, judging from all the times I had made the journey, the large mountains and their many caves -perfect spots for housing vermin- were most likely the reason for this.

Passing Rorikstead I reached Whiterun at about midday, the guards at the Western Watchtower giving me torpid greetings. The sun was still blocked by a thin layer of clouds slowly drifting in the wind, the occasional ray of sunlight breaching the blanket and gracing the cold, snow-covered earth. I dismounted and sent away Arvak, stopping in front of the gates of Whiterun. The two guards on either side greeted me, each doing so without any particular enthusiasm or distaste.

"Greetings Thane"

I absentmindedly nodded in reply, before pushing open the large wooden gates. Almost immediately a child dashed for the opening, before a stern mother grabbed the collar of their green shirt; pulling them away. I couldn't help but lightly laugh at the scolding the mother was dishing out to her child, almost holding the poor boy in the air by his ear.

I entered my home, crouching down by the campfire at the centre of the room and warming up my hands. It appeared Lydia had recently restocked our firewood and food supplies, fresh leeks hanging from the ceiling and various forms of cheese and meat lining the table. While I didn't necessarily need or even want a housecarl, Lydia seemed beneficial to keep around; often restocking supplies and cleaning the house. We were acquaintances at best, and while she didn't seem to despise me; she didn't particularly like me either.

"Ah, My Thane, good day."

"You too Lydia."

Our routine was simple, we'd greet each other, then I'd grab whatever I needed and leave. And so I did, opening the chest to pull out an Ebony blade, Ebony mail and gauntlets, as well as a Daedric helmet and boots. This was one of the few times I'd caught the housecarls full attention, the armour and sword were considered legendary by the people of Skyrim; many guards commenting on the ferocity of my apparel as I passed them. This legendary status seemed to captivate even her, the woman staring at my back with an enamoured expression. While I purely dawned it for it's efficiency and near impenetrable defence, the apparent menace and power it radiated onto those around me felt rather pleasant.

Time was not on my side, and I quickly left Breezehome and headed once again for the gates. The guards seemed more alert now, their eyes following my every move with what appeared to be a mix of admiration and terror.

"That armour, it glows like the red moon. Whomever you are fighting that deserves such bloodlust, Thane, I hope you come back in one piece."

Arvak once again answered my call, and I gave my thanks to the guards before setting off to Solitude once more.

…

Dragon Bridge once again proved to be a nuisance, another -though this time larger- pack of Nord and Redguard bandits had attacked me. They grouped up in two sets of four, attacking me from either side. I dismounted Arvak, grabbing one of the nearby bandits and holding the flailing Nord in the air by his throat. The soft flesh and thin spine easily buckled under my grasp, his collapsing neck accompanied with a sickening crunch. A couple of his brethren had backed away at the sight, while the rest continued to stare me down with their weapons drawn. I hadn't exactly expected or even wanted to scare them away, for with every one of these vermin that I purged an innocent farmer's life was saved. The limp corpse fell to the floor, its head barely hanging on by a thin strand of crushed muscle. While the moment was pleasant, my bloodied hand would stain the handle of my blade. My fists would have to suffice.

The bandits seemed to abandon their previous tactic, instead clustering into a large group and rushing at me. It was a somewhat admirable act, to die next to your fellow brethren, but their closeness would only quicken their demise.

IIZ SLEN NUS

The once screaming and charging bandits now stood frozen in place, their bodies covered in a thick layer of ice. Most held petrified faces of shock, though some still stuck to their rage induced scowls. I weaved between the frozen men, stopping at the centre of the group. A unique quirk of the Ebony Mail was its ability to engulf the owner in a vale of shadows, hiding their presence from any prying eyes. Though the vile darkness that had quickly seeped across my being had another use. Their frozen veins began to pulse and press into their blue skin, the once red blood now tainted black. Slowly, one-by-one, the fearful glitter in the eyes of the men extinguished; their lives fading away. Any who approached the wearer of the mail would be poisoned, if the user desired so. It was not poison that could be wished away with a cure, rather tainting their very blood and mind. Its victims would gag and wretch, scratching at their throats to get the sickness out of their bodies. It was always to no avail, for what was done was done.

Slowly the ice crumbled away, the limp corpses no longer held up fell to the floor, heavy thuds and the clanking of metal against rock piercing the silent air around them. It was somewhat disappointing, this pile of flesh. They seemed so insistent on attacking me, yet never truly put up a fight; always seeming to die in a strike or two. At some point I began to try and kill every single one of them with a different method, the same cutting growing monotone and boring; though returning to classics every once in a while wasn't bad either. I had sometimes thought of the possibility of rehabilitation, perhaps they could be mended and taught how to live normal lives, though that thought never lasted further than their desperate screams for mercy. I stepped out of the pile of dead, before mounting my horse once more and heading for Solitude, perhaps I could still make it in time.

…

When I stepped onto the road heading down into the Solitude Docks it was already nightfall, the layer of clouds now having grown thicker and engulfing the land in darkness. It was the perfect night for stealing as much as it was the perfect night for slitting throats. The Lighthouse wasn't too far away from the Docks, and I had quickly managed to reach the top of the tower. The height of the structure let me see past the dense fog covering the shores. I would need to spot the Icerunner before it came into view of the mainland. I quickly looked around for the thieves I would need to meet up with, spotting a large group of a dozen or more figures laying in a grassy and rather absent-of-snow mound. They too seemed to be watching the coast, trying to peer through the fog. A gentle wind blew towards me, sending the burning embers in my direction. It was a pleasant burst of warmth, though one I would have to extinguish; the ship had sailed into sight. I conjured a ball of frost into my palm, before covering the burning coal in a layer of ice. The fire quickly went out, and so did the light surrounding it. I began my descent to the group ahead of time, with my pace I would meet them just as they were plundering the ship. It went against the idea of that 'Jaree-ra', though it hardly mattered.

The surrounding forest was almost pitch black, the once abundant glitters of fireflies drowned out by the void. The darkness oozing from the trees seemed inviting, tempting me to enter and disappear amongst the trees; perhaps later, right now there was vermin blood to spill. Their shouts faintly rang through the air, the crashed vessel and the group obscured by the thick fog.

Almost immediately the group of Argonians turned to me, each quickly replacing their expressions of joy from a good catch with utter terror. They shuffled aside, opening a path directly to the large tear in the ship's hull. So their leader was inside. I slowly walked up to the partially submerged crash, stepping onto the rather dry wooden floor. The torches that lined the walls were still lit up, coating the room in a warm glow. A small doorway led to a corridor, which in turn led into multiple other rooms. I stepped into the corridor, the large hall presenting itself at the end of it immediately. The interior was similar in design to the one I stepped into at first; large, entirely made of wood and lined with oil lamps emitting a warm glow. In the centre of the room lay a large chest, with engravings adorning its bronze surface. A large circular sigil of sorts lay at the centre of it, and above the sigil lay a lock keeping the chest closed.

The same female Argonian that I had seen on the docks sat upon the chest, Deeja was it? "I suppose you are Deeja right? Jaree-Ra told me to meet you to collect my reward."

She stared at me for a bit, her eyes slowly tracing my armour, before her eyes snapped back to my helmet. "Yes. I am Deeja. Come inside." She jerked her head towards herself, and I stepped through the door frame. The horns on my helmet were well above the top of it, so I had to bow my head to enter the room. Behind me about a dozen -if not more- pairs of footsteps shuffled into the room, the Argonians and a single orc spilling into the area behind me. The female one scanned over me again, before standing up from the chest."You have been very useful to the Blackbloods, however, we have moved the loot elsewhere. Your compliance has helped us greatly and thus earned you a quick death."

So they couldn't open the chest? Pitiful. The scraping of metal rang out around me, as the rats drew their little sticks. Pitiful. The thought of rehabilitation almost jokingly crossed my mind once more; what would be the harm in trying? Giving them one last chance to surrender. "Are you sure you want to do this?" I focused on what seemed like their group's leader, it seemed like the armour had the usual effect on her. Many often remarked on the armour's natural effect of hiding one's eyes, instead replacing them with an empty void; it was a factor of the Daedra. Fear.

A warcry sounded behind me, followed by clumsy and uncoordinated footsteps. Shame. I turned to face the light annoyance to see a young bandit charge at me; an iron blade raised high into the air. Too high. He left all of himself exposed, his gut and sides were protected by nothing but some hardened cow hide, and his neck was completely open; the tender flesh just begging to be cut. I reached for the Ebony blade, gently grasping its handle and pulling it out in front of me. He moved so incredibly slowly, his movements were so easy to disrupt, and he had raised his small sword so high that it just barely fit under the roof. What a weak piece of pestilence. I sharply lifted my blade upwards, sidestepping his strike, the sharp edge of the longsword gliding through his jugular and spine. The once lively body instantly grew limp, dropping to the floor with a wet thud. His head followed soon after, rolling to the feet of the rest of the vermin.

Almost instantly the once battle-ready crowd began to scurry away, rushing through the small entrance; voices of terror muffled by the sound of rapid footsteps and the occasional yelp of a trampled bandit. I turned to the female, who stood with a raised dagger clutched by both of her hands, the edge of the knife shakily pointing at me. She was clearly just as terrified as the rest of them, perhaps more so, but it seemed her honour didn't allow her to flee. She could wait here then, there were rats to gut.

I made my way through the wreck, returning to the beach and the cold wind. What little light came from the oil lamps and the torches in the ship illuminated the shore, as well as the group of bandits who had grouped up; each standing within arm's reach of their fellow vermin. I wish they'd taken up a different tactic, this was getting stale. Another humorous thought crossed my mind; maybe they were some minions controlled by a single master? A bandit queen, the thought almost made me giggle. Turning back my attention to the bandits I briefly wondered if I should just burn them alive or freeze them as I did with the last batch. No, I will take my time with these ones.

I quickly dashed into the centre of the crowd, cloaking in the shadows. Almost immediately the poison began to take effect, as retching, gagging and coughing rang pierced the night sky. Most were far too busy to attack me, instead grasping and clawing at their throats or dropping to the ground to vomit. I firmly grasped my longsword and began to quickly cut through them, decapitating some and simply piercing the throats of others. A couple of them had dropped down in rather annoying positions, their necks and heads a step too far away. Their stomachs would do. The blade cut through the hide armour as if it was nothing but air, and chunks of crimson meat spilled into the sand. The sight was rather interesting actually, perhaps I could enjoy myself just a bit.

I slowly turned to the next bandit, this one had dropped his iron sword to the ground entirely, instead clawing at his neck. Another slash and his gut poured out into the sand; it's almost silky look and fluid movement somewhat beautiful in a strange kind of way. Slowly one-by-one the last bandits fell, the final gargled scream of agony ringing through the night sky. I drifted my eyes over the carnage I had caused, stray arms and legs dotting the beach as their owners lay in a bloodied pile amongst their fellow corpses. A single pair of rapid footsteps caught my attention, it was the female I had left in the ship. It seemed she had finally left her trance, though the battle was now over. It was somewhat strange, she was the only woman in her group with all the rest being males. I hadn't exactly kept in touch with the beliefs of my kind, maybe there was some value to the females that I didn't know of.

That mattered little however, as I tightened the grip around my blade; only one more to go.

At last, another tender soul to choke away! It seems you have remembered your master, Mortal!

It was Mephala's voice, ringing through my head. So she decided to finally bother with me? This was my chance to mess with the Daedric Prince. Well if this one has a 'tender' soul as you put it, then perhaps I'll just spare her. Skyrim needs a few good people right?

Your persistent denying of my wishes annoys me Mortal. Must I remind you who gave you this blade?

The Argonian drew in a sharp breath, and clenched the dagger tighter. I looked back at the blade one last time. You know what Mephala? Fuck you. She gets to live.

She charged at me with her dagger pointed at my chest, her face dawning an expression of desperation and fear; clearly she thought these were her last moments. Her movement was quicker than that of the others, though still slow enough for me to easily sidestep and dodge her lunge. Her back was completely exposed, the flat surface a perfect spot to stab. I lightly pushed my palm down into her, the Argonian crashing into the sand. She had landed next to one of the severed arms, retching when she turned her head to look at the lifeless appendage. Surprisingly, her disgust was quickly replaced with the resolve to fight. It was to no avail however, as I firmly pressed one of my legs onto her back. My blade instinctively drifted towards her neck, stopping just above it. She turned her head, her cheek somewhat covered by sand, and scowled at me. Last moments of defiance, the action was quite admirable.

Her face turned into one of cautious confusion, as I simply hovered my blade above her neck. The more I thought about it, the less of a reason there was to kill her; she seemed braver than most, clearly her being had a significant level of 'good' considering that Mephala cared enough to show up, and I needed someone to lead me back to the rest of the Blackbloods regardless. I quickly lifted my blade onto my back, the Argonian flinching at its movement, and lessened the weight on my foot.

"I will give you a choice, and regardless of what you answer I will not kill you" Immediately her face twisted from that of caution and confusion to that of shock. "You can either flee, or you can join me."

She mustered the best look of scorn she could -it was quite obvious that she was still in shock- and spat at me. "I'll take my chances with the fleeing" Fine. This way was easier regardless. I lifted my foot off of her, before heading for the forests. The shadows reached for me once more, though this time I beckoned their call; the vile darkness covering me once more. She had lost sight of me, judging from her bewildered expression, now rising to her feet and looking around the beach. Finding all of her brethren dead the Argonian broke into a sprint, heading right for the docs. Perfect.

Keeping up with her was surprisingly challenging; she ran at quite the pace, leaping over rocks and never losing her stride. While my armour weighed me down somewhat, I didn't find it incredibly difficult to run alongside her. She had made it back to the docs in an astoundingly short time, and immediately I spotted what I assumed to be the rest of the Blackbloods. Leaving the female alone, I slowly trailed around the docs to rest near the cliffside, with the group standing on the docs facing their backs towards me. They seemed to be in the middle of a brawl of sorts, though that notion was quickly disapproved as I saw the bloodied torso of the female lying on the wooden planks, heaving water out of her lungs. Jaree-Ra was screaming at her, occasionally giving her a sharp kick in the stomach or back, before he lifted her by the collar of her armour. He grabbed what looked like her dagger from her waist, before jabbing her in the nose. The Argonian fell to the floor, before slowly rising and staggering off the docs. I felt a pang of sympathy for her, but the Blackbloods were more important.

Blackbloods. Out of the largely intangible shouting that came from Jaree-Ra's mouth, it was one of the few words I could understand. Elisif, I've found your salvation.

Jaree-Ra had now turned to the group, pulling out some sort of map before waving to a trio nearby him and leaving for the direction of the wreck. They must have gone to scout, and while the loss of the leader was unfavourable, the majority of the group still remained. It was time to finally rid the docks of this pestilence. The others retreated into the warehouse, opening the wooden doors and quickly piling in. I creeped out from behind the cliffs, dropping down onto the docks and quickly sneaking in after them. The fools had left the doors to the docks unlocked, perhaps waiting for Jaree-Ra's return. The warehouse was completely absent of guards, it seemed the thieves had taken over this place in its entirety.

I trailed closely behind them, the Ebony Mail pouring me into the dark crevices where no prying eyes looked. It was no wonder the guards or Imperials couldn't find the nests of these vermin; the entrance was a cave, hidden by the surrounding cliff and storage racks and partially submerged in water. One by one they slipped along the stone walls into the small passage, each lightly grazing the water seeping into the moss-covered floor.

Patience was key, I needed to find their burrow, their true base; follow the mole and poison the den. Their blood would stain this land to be sure, I just needed to wait.

The inside of the cave was rather strange, a large river flowed through its entirety, most likely connecting to the water pool in the warehouse and then to the sea. Small mud paths hugged the walls, each no wider than a man. These paths seemed to last forever, weaving and turning, occasionally cutting off abruptly into the rapids below. These Blackbloods seemed to have their own passageways, taking shortcuts through hidden web-covered caves and small natural bridges. I had tried to memorise the layout of the area, though an expedition could be sent later to fully explore the underground system once the pestilence is cleared. The cave ended at a wooden drawbridge, next to which embedded in the stone lay a small room. It was lightly furnished, containing nothing more than a table and a couple of chairs. They had set up a primitive oil trap, though it could easily have been disarmed if I were in combat.

The drawbridge lowered, and the group crossed. Two more Argonians sat in the room, occupying the chairs. Perhaps I hadn't noticed them, or maybe they split off from the rest of the group to keep watch. Regardless it would be wise to kill these ones first and then trail the group. I slowly approached a corner of the cave, where the sharp twist of the river left the mud path out of sight. While I mostly fought in close quarters, it was quite useful to have a ranged attack; in my case, that came in the form of two ebony daggers that I could throw at distant enemies.

I drew them both from the belt hidden beneath my Ebony Mail, before quickly rounding the corner and throwing them at the Argonians. One of the daggers had pierced the left vermin's neck, while the other had buried deep within the right one's torso; it's handle barely sticking out of his scaled flesh. They both seemed to be mages, dawning the regular black skull-marked robes. The cloth offered little protection from the dagger, and it pierced clean through it. Both made short gurgling sounds, seeming to choke or drown in their own blood, before growing limp in their chairs. I yanked the daggers from the corpses, wiping off the remnant blood with their robes. Two down, many to go.

The small tunnels had opened up to a large waterlogged cave, a sunken ship lying partially submerged, and a large wooden structure supporting what seemed to be their base lay inside. Another drawbridge connected the main structure to the tunnels, a wooden pathway leading to the very top where another ship-like structure lay. It almost seemed like they had been stranded in here, simply making do with the resources they had. Parasites seemed so keen on living when they had so little purpose.

The group had made it to the top, the last Argonian entering the large hall that rested on the wooden beams. There weren't any more shadows to stick to or corners to hide behind, though that mattered little now that I had found their den. The wood was rather dry for the moist air, the tough texture making it incredibly easy to grip and move silently on. I weaved between the beams, slowly making my way up to the top of the large tower. They seemed to be celebrating something, loud music and singing coming from inside the building. I lowered my head, entering through the small doorway that led inside. Almost instantly, one of the bandits turned to me, pointing his gloved hand in my direction.

"What are you doing here? Come to die?" He roared, the music stopping and the rest of the room turning to meet me.

"I've come to purge."

ZUN HALL VIIK

Swords, daggers and bows that the bandits had brandished were ripped out of their hands, flying to the back of the room where they clashed against the planked wall. Stripped of their weapons, the thieves froze, their frightened eyes falling upon me.

"And I will purge."

I dashed towards the closest one, plunging my hand into his neck and grasping his windpipe, before sharply pulling downwards, tearing it from his body. Blood began to gush from the wound, though I paid no attention to it as I drew my sword and dashed to the next thief. The ones closest to the back of the room had left their shocked state and began clambering to their weapons. No, that wouldn't do.

FUS RO DAH

The force threw their bodies into the planked wall, their bones and necks cracking at the impact, their organs bursting and flowing out of every orifice. Those in the way of the shout had been thrown backwards much like the mangled corpses, though the weaker and more diluted force had only stunned and broken some limbs. I cut clean through another bandit who had turned his back to flee further into the room, his body now split in two. The large group quickly began to thin out as blood and organs lined the walls. A trio lay on the floor, clearly hit by the force shout, their arms and legs twisted in unnatural ways. I plunged my blade into the ribs of the first thief, before tearing them from his body. The other two lay in his blood, their broken bodies unable to move away. The terror on their faces was a sight to behold, unfortunately fading away as I cut open their chests and decapitated their heads. Those who could still move grabbed their weapons, some killing their brethren as an act of mercy.

I slowly approached the rest of the bandits, who had now closely huddled at the back of the room; two shieldbearers protecting the rest while a single archer stood at the back, blood gushing from his torn knee. They seemed to be mumbling to each other, sharing their goodbyes and praying to whatever Gods they believed in. Perhaps I'll let them have their moments, the looks of terror and dread on their faces at the sight of the blood coated blade were enough for now. A smaller Khajiit, perhaps a young teen or maybe a very short adult, had an amulet clutched to his furry lips, muttering something as tears ran down his bloodied face. Enough waiting, they've had their moment.

I raised my free hand, pointing it towards the huddled group, a sphere of violet lightning manifesting in my palm. Chain lightning was a spell that had proved itself handy more than a dozen times during my travels, uniquely useful for eradicating groups of weak enemies without damaging the surrounding environment. The bright bolt shot from my hand, latching onto the first shieldbearer before quickly spreading between the rest of the group; killing all but one instantly. It was the short one, who seemed to have some form of enchantment to protect him from lightning. I approached the kneeling, smoking form, who quivered upon seeing my hand reach for his face. The ebony gauntlet wrapped around his chin, before I plunged my blade deep into his stomach; the Khajiit drawing his last painful breaths.

It was done, the room was coated in flesh and scales and bone, the Blackbloods were no more. I would let Jaree-Ra live, I wanted him to return to the safety of his home to see every companion he ever had butchered into oblivion. However, perhaps there was another reason to let him live. That female, Deeja, I felt more and more sympathy for her. Perhaps if she lived through this she would seek vengeance; if it was anyone's right to slit that Argonain's throat, it would be hers. Her bruised state crossed my mind, and doubts about if she would even live through the night followed. There were more pressing matters than her, I needed to return to Winterhold to change my apparel and then return to Elisif with good news.

…

I glanced upon the night sky, still covered with a thinning layer of clouds. The night was still quite young, and I needed to get the fresh and very sweet scent of blood out of my head. A walk would do nicely, perhaps the skies would clear up as I crossed the mountain range; Skyrim was equally harsh as it was beautiful. I didn't fear the winter winds either, my greaves were enchanted with frost resistance; almost completely nullifying the effect of the frigid winds.

The docks were still and silent, only the gentle breaking of black waves against the rocks breaking the quietness of the air. It seemed everyone had left for the safety of their homes to slumber, or perhaps to taverns to drink away their worries. Either way, the night was serene and Solitude was now a little more peaceful.

Leaving the docks and passing through the forest, I couldn't help but once again marvel at the snow; new sets of footprints and marks now imprinted upon the white pages. Though my mind was far too agitated to read these stories, the recent battle was still fresh on my mind. With every bandit I killed, it seemed two more would rise out of some forgotten cave. No matter how many dungeons I cleared, they would always reappear after some time, terrorising nearby villages and stealing crops. I had no idea what my purpose as the dragonborn was; Alduin had been killed -for now-, and the few dragons that remained had either fallen under the governorship of Paarthurnax or left to roam free amongst the skies of Skyrim. While the old dragon was a dear friend and a beacon of guidance during hard times, even he couldn't tell me what my purpose in this land was anymore.

The large snow-covered plains opened up to me, winds flowing over mounds of snow like calm waves over a still ocean. A faint trace of a single line of footsteps remained in the snow, though it disappeared as it drew into the fields, the snow and wind covering up whatever story once lay there. As I took my first step of many into the plains, my mind drifted back to its previous thoughts.

Having the soul of a dragon meant I likely couldn't simply settle down and farm for the rest of my life, it would be a waste of a warrior as well as mind numbingly boring. If I were not to plough the land then I was to govern it, that was the next logical step. I had become Thane of every Hold, as well as a leader of a number of groups. Riften had been incredibly corrupt, so to effectively assist it I had to become the leader of the Thieves Guild; and while I despised the idea at first, it had become apparent that this tight knit community was not like the bandits, but rather had some sense of honour and justice. I had even begun to value many of its members, eventually calling them allies not out of necessity but out of truth.

The Dark Brotherhood had also accepted me as its leader, though the burning of one of our temples was a devastating blow. While Astrid and I never got along too well, I had bonded quite closely with Veezara; a fellow Argonian whose death I had mourned rather heavily. The deaths of the majority of the group left me as the leader, largely due to my role as the Listener. Eventually the Brotherhood had recovered with my help, though I still miss some of the old members dearly.

A small ledge, about that of a giant's height, lay ahead of me. There didn't seem to be a way around it, so the only solution was to climb. There were numerous crevices in the stone, each of them lined with what appeared to be blood. There were no footsteps leading here, and no sane merchant or adventurer would venture out at this time and in this weather. I leaped upwards, reaching about halfway up the rock face, before driving my fingers into the stone. Ebony had a rather smooth texture, so holding on with my gauntlets was rather difficult; though not impossible. I took another leap, grabbing onto the edge of the ledge and pulling myself up. No footsteps here either. Sometimes the lack of tracks may tell a more compelling story than their presence, or perhaps I was simply going insane.

A small incline led up to a wall of boulders and stone, which then sharply rose upwards. Only a small stretch of snow-covered flat-lands separated me from the base of the mountain.

Naturally, If I were to assist in the governing of Skyrim's Holds, I needed to purge the land of her enemies. These came in various forms: Bandits, Forsworn, Thieves and Draugr. Dragons were also a threat, but those I decided to keep; such mighty beasts were not to be killed lightly. So I purged day and night, killing thousands. Yet no matter how many fell before me, more would rise. With time the pointlessness of my actions truly came to me, for every abandoned castle I cleared, another would be swarmed once more. It was growing stale, and perhaps this never ending cycle was not what I was truly meant to rule; at least not alone.

The mountain was rather pleasant to climb, the cold winds blowing fresh air into my lungs. The night was truly beautiful, stars or not, and the sweet scent of blood was now mostly gone from my armour. It seemed that the Nine Divines decided to bless me today, for as the top of the mountains grew nearer, the skies grew clearer.

What seemed like an eternity passed by in a breath, the night sky drawing my attention from the climb. Even the wildlife seemed to still, not a single sabre cat or wolf had attacked me. Slowly, the peak of the mountain grew near, and with it the ever brightening rays of moonlight. I had reached the top, the clouds all but gone; opening up the full wonder of the night sky. Distant stars and constellations shimmered at me, their bright bodies resisting against splashes of purple and blue and red. It was almost magical, and perhaps some distant and old myth had explained it away as one of the Divine's creations. A 'perhaps' that I cared little about, for right now all that lay before me was the universe at its most encapsulating state. This beauty was ripped away from my mind by a muffled scream, coming from somewhere downhill. Somewhere close.

The scream was short and faint, and I quickly lost its direction. It seemed the Divines were truly on my side, as snars came from the same direction and just as close. I sprinted to the sound, leaping over rocks and snow mounds, before the source of the sound opened to me. It was a group of wolves biting and chasing each other, fighting over their next meal. The meal in question was an Argonian, laying on its back. They wore hide armour, and had a deep wound in their calf; most likely from the wolves. Their head was turned away from me, hiding their appearance. It was this Argonian that was the source of the scream. The wolves seemed to hone in on her once more, growling at each other as they approached her. The colour of the scales on the Argonian seemed familiar, and while I couldn't see her face, I recognised their feminine voice. It was her.

I quickly summoned a ball of flames into my palms, throwing one after another in quick succession at the wolves. The fire clashed with their fur, instantly engulfing the four wolves in flames and knocking away their bodies. The magic had killed them instantly, burning away the remnants of their bodies.

Rushing to the Argonian, I gently lifted her head from the snow, it was her. It was the female from the docks. She was incredibly cold, and numerous wounds lined her face and mouth. I gently turned her body upwards, kneeling down and bringing it into my lap. In my early days of adventuring I had created a small pocket of sorts with conjuring magic, in which I had stored emergency supplies for desperate situations. The supply contained some health potions and various other supplies that I couldn't simply find in the wild. They weren't geared to any specific situation, rather just general items that could come in handy. I retrieved some potions and blanket, setting them down beside me; her wounds needed healing foremost, and then she needed to be warmed up. I opened the large red flask, before gently pressing the glass rim into her mouth.

"Swallow. Take your time, don't rush."

She complied, weakly swallowing the liquid. Immediately she began to cough violently, and I pressed her into my chest, gently tapping her back to try and ease the pain. Slowly her coughing subsided, and I once again pressed the flask's rim to her mouth. She began swallowing the liquid once more, this time not coughing. Her eyes were closed, perhaps the cold from the ice had numbed them and blinded her. Even without the healing potion the effect was temporary; she would be fine by next morning. The potion had most likely caused her to restore the ability to feel her body, as she began violently shivering. I quickly threw the blanket on her, the warm wool pressing against her scales. I grabbed the edges of the fabric, wrapping it around her body and folding it onto itself. The hide armour around her was almost rock solid, probably from the brawl in the docks where she was thrown into the sea. I wrapped the end of the blanket around her legs, tucking the exposed end in with my one free arm. The blanket had taken the form of a bed roll, and was probably just as warm.

With her wounds healed and body warm, it was now the time to decide what to do with her. She had the will to survive this long with such wounds, and perhaps there was a chance that Mephala was right about her. It was a chance I was willing to take, so to Whiterun it is. I picked her up, the Argonian's body surprisingly light, and began my descent down the mountain.

She hung over one of my arms as I carried her under my shoulder, her stomach leaning against my forearm. The Argonian let out a moan, it seemed the swaying and compression of her stomach was making her sick. I gently grasped her shoulders with my other hand, twisting her around to face upwards, and pressed her shoulder to my chest. She shivered as a breeze blew over us, and I pushed the scaly ridge of her nose into my neck. She needed as much warmth as possible right now, and this was really the only way to achieve that. The one time I needed a frost resistance potion or ice wraith essence also happened to be the one time I didn't bring any. Fuck.

It seemed that the exhaustion had taken a toll on her, as she quickly slipped out of consciousness. Though it didn't remain that way for long, as the Argonian would periodically wake and fall asleep in my arms once more as we descended the mountain. Going straight down was sadly not an option, a sheer drop in the mountains prevented me from simply heading for Whiterun right away. I would have to take the long route, descending down the mountain horizontally until I reached level ground.

She seemed nervous, constantly twitching in her limited bursts of sleep. I placed my mouth next to the side of her head, gently whispering.

GOL HAH

Bend will. I didn't speak the full shout out of caution for the chance that the power would wake her. In the few times I could talk to those I willed with the shout, even after its effect had expired, almost every individual described it as a powerful sensation of calmness and serenity washing over them. The Argonian in my arms stirred in her sleep, though her twitching quickly stopped and her breath grew calmer and more rhythmic. It worked.

WULD NAH KEST

The wind around me gathered beneath my feet, launching me further downwards the mountain. The shout allowed me to move quickly, even after the initial dash ended. A cloud of snow picked up behind me, the wind picking up the white crystals. She once again stirred awake, still not opening her eyes. It forced me to slow down and lose the previously acquired momentum, though the slower speed let me observe my surroundings. A loud roar rang out from behind me, and I turned to face a large troll. Frost trolls were a fairly common occurrence in the mountains, frequently the reason for the death of young adventurers. I gently set the half-awake Argonian down, before drawing my blade. The troll dashed at me, thumping its chest as it ran. A large clawed appendage swung at me, though I easily avoided the strike and thrust my blade into the creature's neck. It let out another gargled roar, dark blood spilling from both the wound and its mouth, before collapsing onto the snow. A small bit of troll blood had stained my armour, the smell quite unpleasant. I picked up the Argonian once more, before turning to resume the snow-covered path I had walked on.

WULD NAH KEST

…

"Ah, good evening Thane. It is a pleasant night" One of the guards lazily greeted me, his slumped and leaning against his spear stature a telltale sign of a day of standing in front of the gates. His partner seemed asleep, leaning heavily against the stone brick walls. The guard's docile state quickly vanished as he noticed the woman I carried. "Is that a bandit in your hands? Lord almighty, that's a lot of blood."

I had nearly forgotten about the frozen blood caking her face. It looked like it had frozen in layers, each ice crystal irritating the wound anew and drawing out fresh blood. The potion had closed the wounds, though the frozen blood coating her face still persisted. "I gave her a potion of healing, that's just remnants of old blood. She used to be a bandit, though I assure you there is no need to detain her. Could you come with me, I may need help getting her into my house"

The guard quickly nodded, elbowing his partner in the ribs and jolting him awake. The man groggily scanned the area around him, before his helmet snapped to me. They exchanged a quick nod, before the one I spoke to opened the gates and followed me into the city. Whiterun was more lively at night than most other holds, the many merchants and civilians who were still awake in the late hours walking around and taking care of any businesses they hadn't managed to during the day. Almost instantly every head turned towards me, people cutting off conversations and stopping in their tracks. Ignoring the curious gazes of the cityfolk I approached Breezehome, waiting for the guard to follow me. The people, seemingly losing their interest within me, resumed their conversations and walking. He opened the door to my home and held it open, letting me enter into the house, before nodding once more and letting it fall shut. Lydia seemed asleep or absent, the fireplace was out and so were the two oil lamps I had hung in the main dining room. Perhaps she had gone out drinking.

I carried the Argonian up the stairs, bowing my head to not scrape the approaching ceiling with my horns, and turned into my room. The chair where Lydia usually sat was indeed empty, and the door to her room was open; she was most definitely not home. I gently lowered her onto the large bed, before unwrapping the wet, bloodstained woolen blanket around her. Her hide armour had softened somewhat, though it still seemed as hard as stone and just as cold. I took off my own armour first, gently placing it in the chest behind me, before tracing my hands over her sides to search for the leather straps securing her armour. I had eventually found them, having to lean over the unconscious female in order to reach them, and quickly loosened the straps before sliding the armour off of her. Either she hadn't bothered or bandits simply didn't wear anything below their armour, but the Argonian was naked. Her looks were secondary, I needed to get her out of the frozen apparel and into something warm and comfortable. Reaching for the fur boots on her legs, I hooked my fingers into the edge of the footwear to slide them off.

Lydia had been gifted a set of clothes with her new housecarl title, one of which was a nightgown. It was a size too big for her and thus she had never actually used it. The cloth was large and soft, more than enough to cover the sleeping woman's frame. Sorry Lydia, you didn't use it anyways.

Grabbing it from the wardrobe in her room, I gently slipped the nightgown under the Argonian before wrapping it around her waist. Her cold arms were somewhat difficult to get in the holes in the side of the garment, though eventually I managed to slip them through. Even with the rather baggy clothing her form seemed quite beautiful. I picked her up once more, now fully setting her body on the bed; her head resting on one of the large pillows. I gently pulled the bedspread over her, before turning to leave the room. Briefly, the thought of her being in the same room as all my weaponry crossed my mind, but in her state she could hardly stand upright. This was not the time to worry, it was time to sleep. It seemed Lydia was not coming back home tonight, I'm sure it would be fine if I slept on her bed just this once. Keeping on my tunic and trousers I lay on the straw bed, closing my eyes and attempting to sleep.

The bed was rather hard, and despite how many times I had tried to offer a replacement for it, Lydia seemed to like it this way. The hard bedding reminded me of my time sleeping in the wilderness and the danger associated with it, but just for tonight this would do. I suppressed my rushing thoughts into a trickle and let my consciousness slip away. This was a long day, and tomorrow will be longer still.

AU: I'd recommend that you check out my Archive of Our Own account as while it contains the exact same stories, I will upload them faster there AND they will have better quality due to formatting and spell check. Aragon9021, exactly like my name on here, and the stories also have the same names.