Chapter 2

Days working in the forge blended into one another. The working day began just as the sun rose, or sometimes just an hour before it did. A quick breakfast was scarfed down and heavy boots, gloves, and leather aprons were donned. Then, the forge fires were lit and the flames fanned by the bellows. Afterwards, the doors, windows, and counter were opened. Mostly, this was done for light and ventilation, but the counter was reserved for customers who were picking up their requested items and didn't want to enter the smokey forge. All day, requests were completed. Wood fed the fires all day long, shipments of different metals and ore were collected and paid for. If an ore shipment came in, it was fed and refined in the bulbous smelter next to the forge in the right, street corner of the shop. Ingots were stacked within chests or on shelves.

Askel, while having some skill in forging steel, was more adept at creating jewelry. Kaja was a master armorer and weaponsmith; her orders tended to have less volume but they were more lucrative. On the other hand, Askel's rings, necklaces, chains, and circlets tended to be of simpler metals like copper rather than gold, although there were opportunities to work with silver. Thus, they did not yield the same income. Because Leyawiin was a populous city with a large deficit between the wealthy and poor, he had many orders for cheap accessories as these were all the latter could afford. The most frequent item he was asked to make were wedding rings for the lower class individuals who were getting married. They could not even afford silver rings and had to settle for copper or for gilded rings.

Most of the nobility and the well to do imported their jewelry from other cities. Occasionally, a minor lady or lord asked for something special and supplied gemstones. In these endeavors, Askel excelled and put his wonderful craftsmanship to work. He carved weaving patterns into the interiors and exteriors of the rings, seated rubies and amethysts perfectly, and made sure the fitting was dead on. Nobody ever complained about what he made, whether they were high class or impoverished.

Of course, there was the nature of working the counter. Within their own rights, Askel and Kaja were decent traders. They both knew how to haggle, knew when to tease some coin out of a customer, or when to go easy on someone, usually individuals they knew and did right by them. Preference had much to do with the selection, but what business didn't have its favorite and frequent customers? If merchants who traveled long ways to deliver shipments of ingots and ore were upset, the duo were able to soothe them so they didn't pay exorbitant fees. While they never had a sale, as they couldn't afford to do that, they were able to work out certain deals with customers. Instead of eliciting coin from other tradesmen, they instead charged them for their service. Repaired tools for new glass in the windows, a batch of nails, hooks, pegs, and more to repair the shelves, and the like. Communicating with the public required kindness and patience, but also the skill to read people, have a head for numbers and words, and most important of all, complete knowledge of what one was talking about.

These were lessons Askel and Kaja imparted on Sigtrygg. In the morning, he assisted his father and learned his jewelry trade. In the afternoon, he worked alongside his mother forging weapons; there were never orders for armor. In the evening, he made sales at the counter. This is where he found himself at the end of the day and he was rather uncomfortable. His trousers were still damp even after so many hours and he was tired from the hard work. He enjoyed smithing but day after day it became very dull. As well, he liked talking to the customers but they became few and far between during the evening. So, his face blackened with soot and his skin oily, he passed the time with a book. An Explorer's Guide to Skyrim possessed some surprisingly demeaning language towards his homeland but overall it filled his chest with wonder every time he read the book. This must have made it his eleventh or twelfth time. He began to think about the knight and if he ever went to Skyrim. If he ever had the opportunity to see and speak with him again, he'd ask. After he got his name first, of course.

"Hello, young man of Ve," said a raspy voice. The Nord knew who it was. He looked with a smile at Has-Many-Horns, a green-scaled Argonian fellow whose name was derived from the peculiar addition of two extra horns on each jaw line. Whenever he smiled, he made a sort of hum a stranger might have found sinister. But he was a kindly sort and Sigtrygg always liked it when he came around. Has-Many-Horns was a carpenter and a frequent customer, constantly needing to buy materials; nails, fastenings, holders, hinges, and for his tools to be repaired.

"Your nail-set and hammer, sir," Sigtrygg said, reaching below the counter and producing both. "New metal for the set, finely honed, a brand new head for the hammer. A tad heavier, as requested."

"Very good, hmmm," he hummed, his tail wagging back and forth momentarily. "And what do I owe your fine establishment?"

"Two silvers, please. But, if you're willing to part with five coppers, we'll throw in a medium bag of nails. Ten coppers and you'll get a large bag."

"Hmmmm," Has-Many-Horns hummed as he stroked his chin. "Fair bargains."

"A man such as yourself is always in need of work. Having a surplus of materials is always a safe move." Sigtrygg added a coy shrug. "After all, it is better to have more than not enough."

"Indeed, indeed, land-strider. Hmmm." Has-Many-Horns smiled wide, exposing his many, thin, sharp teeth. He dug into his coin purse and produced two silver and five copper pieces.

"One bag of medium nails to go with your tools. I'll fetch them right away."

"You always provide such, hmmm, good service. You have good parents." Sigtrygg jogged to the back, swiped one of the bags off the shelf, weighed it just to be safe, and then brought it over. He swept the coins into his palm, twisted the key to the lock box, and placed the silver pieces into their slot, and then coppers into their section. "My parents were merchants. Ssssoft ones." He leaned on the counter and ducked his head in a little as comfortably as if he was about to order a drink from a barkeep. "Give me a hammer, said I. I wished to be sssstrong."

"Only a fool would deny that, good sir," Sigtrygg said earnestly. Has-Many-Horns was big for an Argonian and his scaled arms were sinewy with muscle. Seeing as foot traffic was slow, the young Nord did not want to send him off too soon. That would be rude and would leave a bad taste in a patron's mouth. Most people wanted to feel welcome at the places they frequently expended coin.

"It appearssss to me you too wish to be strong," Has-Many-Horns said and gestured towards Sigtrygg's smarting bruises. "Who won?"

Quickly glancing over his shoulder, Sigtrygg then leaned over and grinned.

"It might be fair to say no one did, but seeing as I accomplished my goal, it's also fair to say that I won."

Has-Many-Horns laughed, tapping the wooden countertop as he did. Stepping back, he waved at Sigtrygg fondly.

"I hope it was worth it," he remarked. "Thank you and goodnight, young man of Ve."

"And you too, kind sir," Sigtrygg said, bowing his head. After the Argonian left, Kaja came over, leaned out to watch him go, and then ducked back in.

"You must have said something very funny."

"Oh, only something an Argonian would."

"I hope it was appropriate," Kaja said, smiling. "Good work. That is how a patron should always leave this shop. Happy."

"Satisfied," Askel replied as he banged a ring down the fitting rod. "If they want happiness, let them buy new duds at the tailor, or a carpet from the weaver, or fresh produce from the stalls. Here, they spend coin on quality goods and good service, not happiness."

"What a miser you have become in your age, husband," Kaja replied sarcastically before trooping back over to her anvil. "Sig, I doubt we'll have another patron for the night. Begin closing up, if you'd please."

"Yes, ma."

Closing up always seemed a lot faster than opening up. Sigtrygg dropped the small roof for the counter and locked. He went to the double doors, dragged them back, and locked them. The windows were closed next. Afterwards, it was a matter of cleaning up. Tools were placed back in the cabinets and bags. Excess materials were placed back in their appropriate spots. Lock boxes and chests were secured. Once everything important or handy was put away, it was time to clean up. This was the most extensive aspect of closing time although simple in nature. All Sigtrygg had to do was sweep up the soot covering the stone floor into a pan and dump it in a barrel. If there were any bits of metal or splinters on the floor, these were picked out beforehand and placed in a separate, metal bin beside the soot collector. Anything that could be recycled, even if it was a bent nail, was to be saved. At the end of the week, the barrel was dumped in a waste pit which was near the river.

When Sigtrygg finished, he doused the forge fires. This didn't extinguish them completely, but dampened them enough to die out on their own over the course of the next hour. By this time, Askel and Kaja had finished their tasks and put away their remaining tools. Both doffed their aprons on hooks by the door, splashed their faces from the troughs, and then disappeared into the house. Sigtrygg went around, ensured everything that needed to be locked was secure, then followed his parents. Blowing out the few candles they lit, he followed his parents through the door, shut it, and locked it. Such was a day in the Ve family forge.

###

Dinner that night was meager. A quarter of a potato, a few cooked vegetables, and two thin cuts of pork. For dessert was half an apple. Sigtrygg sat at the small, square table in the center of the house-portion of the building they rented. While Kaja filled their pewter cups with water, he sighed as he took in the same sights he had for the past five years. Bare walls with tears in the olive wallpaper. A dusty mantle over the fireplace with no heirlooms or trinkets. A simple cooking stove of black iron with rust on the edges. Three doors on the far wall; one to his parents bedroom, one to his own, and one to the privy. Here and there were a few barrels filled with salt to preserve meat and some shelves to hold their other food. Sigtrygg never felt poor until he had to sit in his own home.

Kaja set the cups down. Askel, now clad in a shirt and clean trousers, picked up his fork and knife. But a stern look from his wife made him pause. Grunting, he clasped his hands together and shut his eyes. Sigtrygg did the same.

"Mara, we ask of you to keep our family together, to see that we always keep our bonds of affection, and keep this home within your light. Of Zenithar, we honor you with our good works, our hard work. We shall not ask for gifts, for we are not of that make. Wealth, with your graciousness, shall be earned by every hammer strike. Every coin shall be repaid with an hour's labor. Zenithar, we keep you. Please, keep us."

Sigtrygg opened his eyes and began eating. He always ate slowly in the hopes that if he staggered out his meal, he would not be hungry still at the end. The dinner was silent, as it often was. After taking a conservative bite from his pork, he glanced up. His father was staring at him.

"So what actually happened?" he grunted.

"Just a scuffle between me and some of the boys," Sigtrygg said, prodding the remaining pork with his fork.

"Well, I didn't raise you to be a brawler."

"He's a Nord, fighting is in his blood, as it is yours, and mine," Kaja said smartly. "But that doesn't mean you should simply hurt people. You need a very good reason to bring you fist down upon someone."

"No, no, no." Askel brought his hand down on the table. "It doesn't matter if he had a good reason or not. The last thing we need is to get into trouble with the guards and pay fines because our son is beating on other children."

"Askel, dear, calm down."

"I shan't be calm. How can you expect me to be calm? I spent the entire morning sweating in there doing your work while you prayed in comfort. If you were here, I wouldn't be behind on my orders. Shor's Bones, I'm not a weaponsmith."

"I didn't ask you to take up my work," Kaja said sharply, setting his pewterware down heavily. Sigtrygg continued to poke the pork with his knife. He found that he was no longer hungry, although he began to wish he still was.

Askel, who had taken up his fork and knife again, set them back down and glared at Kaja. Both of them maintained a heated gaze for what seemed like several minutes. Eventually, Askel leaned over and pointed in her face.

"Do you happen to recall what trying to fight got us? We had a home once, friends, prospects. And now what do we have? A rotten forge, a crummy house that isn't even ours, hardly any coin in our pockets, and a city that smells like shit who hates anybody who ain't an Imperial." He turned sharply at the table and now pointed at Sigtrygg. "No. More. Fighting. Understand me, boy?"

"Do not speak as if you are making a threat to our son!" Kaja yelled, slamming her fist on the table so hard all the utensils jumped and her cup fell over. The water spilled and dribbled over the edge on the floor. Sigtrygg was fast enough to pick up his plate and cup before they were threatened by his mother's rage.

For a few tense minutes, the glaring contest resumed. All that could be heard was the water dripping onto the floorboards. Thud. Thud. Thud. Then, at the same, time, both Askel and Kaja exhaled, returned to their plates, and continued eating as if nothing happened. For a time, Sigtrygg regarded them blankly. Inside, he was torn and wanted them to speak about it. He wanted to yell too, although he was not quite sure why. Maybe it was because he was tired of his parents' bickering over the same things or the fact their arguing got them nowhere. Or perhaps it was because he was sick of them ignoring their own anger. Whatever it did to themselves, it felt like poison to him. Sick to his gut, he stared warily at the few vegetables and slices of pork as if they were dung.

But he managed to take a breath and clean his plate. By now, he knew that if he did not finish his meal he would stir in the middle of the night hungrier than usual. His parents were done too and they all deposited their dishes in the wash basin where Sigtrygg did the majority of the cleaning. Just as Kaja began to dice up the apples for their dessert, someone rapped on the door. Briefly, Askel and Kaja exchanged a fearful glance. Sigtrygg was not sure why they always grew so tense when someone came at night. It seldom happened but every time they acted as if they were about to bolt.

Askel went to the set of drawers beside the mantle, opened the second one down, and produced a dagger within its scabbard. Slipping it into the back of his belt, he went to the door. He unlocked it with his right and kept his left hand behind his back. The door swung open.

"Oh, good evening. What a surprise. Do come in."

Sigtrygg was surprised to see M'krinna, her father Krraesh, and her mother Karro. Krraesh was tall but a bit slim. He kept his hair in many braids and he had a scar on his snout. Karro wore an impressive mane that was gold at the top but brown at the bottom. She was of the same height of her husband and was a bit dainty. She wore a plain green skirt with a white blouse, while Krraesh wore a brown vest over a red shirt and dark blue working trousers. M'Krinna was wearing her brown skirt and blue blouse from earlier in the day. Her parents both held something in their arms.

Sigtrygg's parents were close with them. As weavers, they did not require their services often, they became acquainted through Sigtrygg and M'Krinna's friendship. Both families always made time for each other and always shared pleasant words.

"How wonderful to see you," Kaja said, walking over to them. "Is there anything we can do for you this eve?"

"Ah, well, no. Khajiit came to thank Sigtrygg for what he did for the cub this day."

Both Askel and Kaja looked back at their son in surprise. Sigtrygg quickly turned back to the basin and scrubbed a dish vigorously. After a few moments, they looked back in confusion. Krraesh and Karro exchanged a glance before smiling together. "The boy is too humble. M'krinna, tell the Ve-clan what was done for you."

She tended to be shy around Sigtrygg's parents. They were both taller and bigger than her parents. In fact, their Nordic stature made them a tad taller and bigger than almost everybody in Leyawiin. It made them stand out and possess an imposing quality. But Kaja offset this by bending over, resting her hands on her knees, and smiling. Even Askel crouched down so he was eye-level with her, rather than towering over her.

Stepping out, the young Khajiit gripped her skirt tightly.

"This...this one was being bullied by Imperial boys, but Sigtrygg stopped them."

Askel and Kaja both looked at one another, then back at him. Again, their son had paused from his duties. Upon meeting their gazes once again, he began polishing one of the pewter cups with great interest. He even thought about whistling a tune but figured that would just make him more conspicuous than he already was.

"Did he now?" Kaja asked slowly. M'Krinna nodded quickly.

"Mhm! And one of the boys hit him, and him again, but Sigtrygg was very brave. A knight stopped the older boy, though."

"When told, Khajiit knew we had to repay good friends and thank him in person."

"I see. Sig, come here please."

Putting the cup down on the shelf, Sigtrygg slowly walked over with his head down. He felt very shy at that moment and his cheeks felt very hot. Clasping his hands in front of him, he slowly looked up at the two Khajiit. They smiled very warmly at him. Krraesh knelt down and opened the bundle he was carrying. He displayed light gray sash with dark trimming. At the bottom was a black hawk with many feathers, open talons, and a curved beak. From the beak protruded a long tongue and its single eye was drawn into a steadfast glare. It was a powerful looking creature and Sigtrygg's eyes widened as he observed it.

"This one made a study of what birds fly over Skyrim. The hawk was mentioned many times in the book. I wished to make it longer, in the way a knight may wear one, but uh...this one could not spare much thread." He bowed his head briefly. "This one hopes you will wear it often and with pride."

Sigtrygg's heart swelled with joy. As out of place he felt between the two families, he had never been happier in all his life. Smiling very wide, he looked up at the friendly Khajiit. He could only imagine just how his face looked at that moment because Krraesh laughed. "Take, take, please!"

Sigtrygg took it from his hands very delicately. At once, he wanted to thrown it on but a tap on the back of his head from his mother reminded him to be courteous.

"Thank you, sir, for such a kind gift. I promise to always be a friend to M'krinna and to wear this with honor." With that, he slid it over himself. Both Kaja and Krraesh helped him put it on. When they were finished, the latter took a step back and nodded.

"Yes, yes, the fit is good!"

"The Nord cub looks like a real knight!" Karro chimed. "And for the Ve-clan, this one has a gift also."

She unwrapped and rolled out a tapestry that was about the length and width of the table. The outer border was a deep blue, while the next layer was sand colored, the third layer was red, and the center square was emerald green. In the very center was the outline of the land of Skyrim. Karro hid behind it somewhat. "This one wished to add more but materials are few."

Kaja gasped as she ran her hand over it.

"This is simply wonderful," she murmured.

"Like this one, you are far from home, and it does the soul good to see a reminder," Karro said, lowering it to show her face.

"You did not have to do us such a kindness," Askel said politely, "we cannot repay you."

"Khajiit need no repayment. The boy did this family a service."

"Thank you so much," Kaja said, her voice thick with emotion. She awkwardly rolled it up and put it on the closest table chair. When she came back to the door, she hugged both Karro and Krraesh. More profuse thanks were shared between the two families before the three Khajiit stepped back outside. Well wishes for the evening were shared. Before they left though, M'krinna hugged Sigtrygg again and Krraesh put a paw on his shoulder.

"Do you know what small M'krinna said to this one when she returned home?" At this, M'Krinna hid behind her mother. "Cub said that you were a hero. When this one thinks of heroes, it is in grand tales in which one fought for all and stood against many. You remind Khajiit that sometimes, the bravest hero stands just for the one."

###

That night, Sigtrygg went to bed wearing a smile. He would have worn the sash too but his parents did not want him to ruin it by rolling around in it all night. Laying in his bed, he gazed up at the wall where it hung on two hoos where he often kept his shirts. In the flickering candlelight, the gray seemed glow and the trimming bore the color of night. At the end, the hawk's gaze was inspiring to Sigtrygg, even if it was just a tiny, empty gray spot.

Sighing, he decided it was his most valued possession. He had few for it to compete with. In his room, which he was once guessed was a small pantry or storage room, the walls were bare too. All he had in there besides the bed was the nightstand and a set of drawers beside it. There was no window and one shelf contained the seven books he owned. Whether it was day or night, a candle was necessary if one wanted to close the door.

Being poor was something he disliked. It was not because he wished to have a bulging coin purse so he could spend lavishly on useless things. He wanted enough so that he go to other places and do things. Perhaps, if he made enough money, he could outfit himself with a sword and some armor when he became an adult. Then, he could go on real adventures rather than playing pretend with his friends. Helping people like the knight he met seemed glamorous. Not, it was not a matter of glory. That was his Nord blood speaking again. It seemed right, a righteous thing to do. Serving people like he did M'krinna, that was a life anybody could be proud of.

The door creaked open. Kaja stepped in, wearing her pale nightgown and holding a candle plate in her hand. She padded in and sat down on the edge of Sigtrygg's bed. For a time, she said nothing and merely smiled at him. Eventually, she sighed. There were deep bags under her light hazel eyes, mirroring Sigtrygg's own.

"I wanted to tell you your father is proud of you even if he may not voice it. He has...qualms about conflict these days. I suppose that is to be expected."

She reached down and ran her fingers across Sigtrygg's auburn locks. "Fighting is a scary thing. Nords are born warriors. It is rare for one to go throughout their life without drawing a blade or baring their fist against another at least once. These are not mere traditions, this is our blood, instructions carved into our bones by Talos himself. Remember the Commands?"

Kaja raised her finger and closed her eyes. "Be strong for war. Be bold against enemies and evil, and defend the people of Tamriel."

"Ma, the priests say we must not speak of Talos."

"The priests are not here," she whispered. "Even if they forget Talos his words ring true. But Mara was also at work this day, for she spurs the heart towards loving acts. In a way, these two Divines are closer than one may think. You carry their spirit, Sig."

Sigtrygg's smile had long faded. He shifted uncomfortably and shook his head.

"I helped M'krinna but I didn't fight back. I just took their blows."

"It does not matter if a Nord wins or loses. What matters is if he fought. If he was able to do that, victory or defeat are null, and he can rest well that night knowing he had done some good in this world."

It was not long before Sigtrygg fell asleep, the words echoing within his ears.

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Author's Note: The design of the sash is based off the wonderful aesthetics of the Skyrim Knight mod originally created by Nexus user hideouscircus and ported to the SSE version by DarkAltair93. I used the mod on the original and SSE version, it's a must have for me as I like playing as a mystic knight.