Chapter 2: Once In A Blue Moon
Silver-Blood Inn
On a stony table of the inn there sat the Orsimer, Torguk. There were already about half a dozen empty tankards on the table and Torguk still kept on chugging his next. It was already around nightfall by that time and the inn was practically empty, even the Innkeeper was away to spend the night in the gallant Hall; his assistant was manning the counter.
It was only after a few minutes that a person came up behind him and called out his name.
"Torguk, we'll be late."
He groaned; his hoarse voice reverberated from his chest. He chugged the last pint or two from his drink and banged the tankard on the table.
"You're late. What were you doing?" Without even turning around, he already knew it was Maeric, his mercenary partner for over many months already.
"Just did a bit of looking. Nothing you should be worrying about." He shrugged. "C'mon, we're expected in the Jarl's banquet."
Torguk did not answer in response.
"… We haven't received our reward yet."
Right then he stood up and headed towards his room.
Maeric threw in a chuckle as he shook his head back and forth. He trailed him from then on.
Once they were dressed, they eagerly headed towards Understone Keep for the second time this day. This time, it was not for discussing matters of any importance, but to enjoy the festivities the Jarl had made just for the Imperial nation. It was the time to celebrate the taking of Fort Dunstad, which proved to be one of the great strategical territories of the Stormcloaks. With Fort Dunstad fallen in the hands of the Imperials, the Stormcloaks' boundaries were pushed behind the territory of Winterhold. Although it was just a small step towards the true goal of victory, it was a breather for the Imperials to finally dissolve the stalemate between the two factions.
And the celebration… Torguk wasn't at all fascinated.
He was never the type to deal with these kinds of things anyways, the festivities. He was really more of a lone wolf – rather, a lone Orc. He did not care about wars, politics, or any of the nonsense going around Skyrim. He was just trying to survive the harshness of it all.
It's not like he was greedy for money, it was a complete opposite of it actually; he rarely cares about anything. If money wasn't the sole medium of exchange for food, shelter, clothing and all the other necessities, he wouldn't have cared for it. But he did.
"It's something about his past." Maeric would often say to his fellow companions.
But Torguk was never the person to tell what became of him. Although, from the look on his eyes, it felt like he was buried in it. Regret, shame, or maybe something else. Maeric didn't want to pry though; he was never the type of person who listens anyways.
Torguk merely shook his contemplations away as he look at the moonlit sky.
It's blue.
He had heard of this phrase before, "Once in a blue moon." And it was explained to him by shamans of his clan days. He smirked at the realization that the phrase had nothing to do with the moons' color.
When one of the moons is clearly lit in the sky, no shadows waning or waxing, and it appeared more than thrice in a season, it can be considered as a blue moon. Miracles often do happen in these events, and one should be weary of his surroundings to fully recognize them.
Or such as the saying goes.
Though he never heard of moons actually having a tinge of blue. Secunda (the smaller moon) was typically gray in nature, but somehow the lighting in the sky bore it a glowing blue color…
"You are one distracted Orc." Maeric voiced.
He then looked at Maeric in annoyance. Maeric wore his brown leathers and a tunic inside it. He had his flesh pants and a pair of grimy boots, so as his trend for casuals. It wasn't at all fancy, but it had to do. Unlike Torguk's clothing which was completely inappropriate. He only wore a white tunic (but very dirty) and brown pants and a tattered shoe, which made him look like the smelter he often visits in this town.
"I said, the soldiers will be inspecting metals on us. Do you have anything with you?" Maeric repeated the question that Torguk failed to hear.
"Yeah, two daggers about to be stabbed to your ass."
"Hah, I'd expect that coming." He sarcastically laughed. "C'mon, you know the drill."
Of course, Maeric had his daggers in his holster as well. They dismantled their own daggers (handmade) and the blade was tied to their thighs just almost close to their groin (as expected). The hilt was put into their pockets. They resembled mini-scrolls folded to bear no confusion to prying eyes…
They entered the palace with no trouble whatsoever. Of course, the people were already bustling about, spending the night away with their delight. Banners with Imperial crest and decorations hung about in the air. The flames flickering created a light atmosphere in the air, even if some corners were darkened by the shadows.
People were enjoying themselves with mead, food and chatting, much to the Aldmeri Elves' resent to the idea hosting a party such as this. One could look into their eyes and see a hint of disappointment to the Jarl while he was sitting on the throne and entertaining his guests. There was a band of bards that came all the way from Solitude that played music in the entirety of the Keep. Lutes, drums and harps were played harmonically to fit the upbeat mood of the people.
"Torguk, there's a seat over there." He pointed out. Not only there were added stone tables and chairs, but there were wooden ones as well, in storage, just for an event such as this. They approached a table in one of the corners of the hall, where the shadows almost covered them, as few blazes of the torch were not enough to light the area up.
As soon as they sat, a waitress was already accounted for. They were given free drinks already paid for by the Jarl.
"So, what's next for the high and mighty Torguk?" Maeric prompted a conversation as he casually sipped a drink in his tankard. "I guess you're planning to go back to Riften afterwards?"
"Yes. Maybe."
"Ah, then we'll be on separate ways then. I've heard a post from the Whiterun's Jarl hiring mercenaries like us as soldiers for the Imperial banner. Wouldn't that be interesting?"
Torguk merely listened as he prodded on to his conversation.
"… I mean, we could be doing something good, for once. Something for a change. I don't know if they take Nords as soldiers, but I really don't care."
"You mean you could do something good… for once."
"Oh, so you don't like to join then? That's too bad." He slouched.
And again the Orsimer didn't supply any words to spare.
The minutes flew by as they continued their own senseless chatting, mostly about them going their separate ways and Maeric doing almost all the talking. Consider that they've been partners for months already, but they weren't the permanent kind. Most mercenary groups were like that. Depending on their jobs, most cases were they wouldn't stick around staying in just one place. More often than not, after their jobs, the people would disband in a snap of a finger, looking for other places where septims wait for them.
No sooner, the Jarl called the attention of everybody and the place quieted.
"It is with great pleasure that everyone had gathered here for this precious day. The Stormcloaks had suffered a terrible loss in their men and their lands, which brings us a step closer to our ultimate goal…"
Hear! Hear!
For the Empire!
All hail The Emperor!
The crowd jeered.
"… Today marks the important stepping stone, as to what will become of the future – our future together for Skyrim…"
"It was in this day that we reclaimed our lands from the traitors and the Traitor King himself."
Aye to that!
Cheers for Jarl Igmund!
"The peace treaty has ended! Alduin is slain! Next, we bring Skyrim back to once was!" Jarl Igmund's voice boomed the halls of Underkeep.
The crowd hollered, cheered, clapped and even tapped their tankards to their tables.
"But tonight, we celebrate…"
The crowd slowly faded into silence. The shouts became talks, and then became murmurs; then suddenly. Silence.
"We celebrate the men and women who braved the Fort and survived the ordeal…" His voice was low, but it was enough so that everyone could still here him.
"… We also celebrate all the heroes that spent their lives in the battlefield, fighting for our cause. May Shor let them enter the great halls of Sovngarde and guide us to our victory…" He bowed silently prayed.
The people bowed with him. So did Maeric and Torguk, paying their respects for the ones that fell by the blades of war. After a few moments of silence, Jarl Igmund then held his head high and cried.
"For the Legion!"
The crowd cheered and clapped again with fierce enthusiasm. Though he wore a proud face it felt like he was burdened with something.
"And in commemoration for all the feats we've done so far, I've come to present to you people, my daughter, to play us a song that will play with our hearts for the night."
Everyone clapped and hollered as they called out for her.
Jarl Igmund has a daughter? Torguk was quite surprised.
As if on cue to his thoughts, a woman of beauty walked into the halls next to the bards.
Torguk stared.
She was wearing a white silken dress embroidered with floral patterns. She had chestnut brown hair, soft curls dangling freely just above her shoulders. Her skin was pale with just the amount of tan that complemented her complexion very well. Her rosy lips peeled as she whispered through the band. He couldn't see her eyes as it was covered by a mask, and the darkness dimmed his surroundings. The band lent her a harp and she smiled.
It was one of – no, the brightest smiles he ever saw.
She sat on a wooden chair on the center aisle and fixed herself. Her attention shifted from person to person, gazing her audience thoroughly. It was evident that she felt anxious, but she brimmed with courage nonetheless. She lightly gripped the handle and started to cue the band.
The calming song started with the lute and the harp, a ballad of soft tunes combining in perfect balance. She closed her eyes and swayed to and fro to the rhythm of the song. Then she strung the harp in just the perfect melody…
On this night the pale moon flies
Through the endless stormy skies
So hold me close
Feel the rhythm of my heart, echoing far
Take my hand
Lead me where to souls could soar
Oh… So far away and so near
The harp's tune reverberated across the halls as she played so mellow and so peaceful. The whole keep was enticed by her song (and herself). She gazed among the crowd again. Torguk could've sworn she looked past his table, but he was sure that she didn't saw her. Her distance and the darkness wouldn't allow her to…
I have seen your eyes before
In another life I've lived
In innocence
I imagined you could fly close to the stars
Here I am
Waiting for the moon to rise
Oh… so far away and so near
After that, there was an instrumental combination of the lute and the harp, playing harmoniously together.
He felt his body stiffen as he riddled his thoughts with her. He barked out a grunting scowl as he pushed his tankard to his throat.
It's not possible anyways.
Leaving his attention, he noticed that he was alone in his table. Maeric was gone.
He sighed.
No sooner she continued with her singing. He couldn't understand the lyrics anymore as he was getting a bit tipsy from all the mug he'd drunk. Even if all of them had light alcohol, he may have consumed too much for his own.
It didn't matter though. No matter how much he'd drunk, he could still see her. She had a strange glow in her. She almost sounded slurred from his hearing, but her voice was actually soothing. It was after a few groggy moments that she stood up and bowed. He only realized then that the play was over. The crowd was clapping and hollering at her. She smiled so proudly at herself, her anxiety drowned away just by half of the song.
She sashayed along as she left the stage with noble grace; he noticed.
And by the Divines, he noticed.
An hour had gone to pass and he left the Understone to rest in Silver-Blood. The festivities were still ongoing but Torguk had just enough of it. He didn't belong there anyways.
Maeric's gone for a long time, he noticed. It was around the middle of the woman's song that he disappeared and he had not gone back ever since. This made him quite suspicious, but he did not go beyond on finding out. It was really not in himself to meddle with the affairs of others.
Maybe he had found a mistress, and Divines know what would happen next.
He walked through alleyways, streets very narrow and buildings almost close together. He did not know where he was going, as his drunken state wouldn't allow him so. And yet, it felt like he knew the way all along.
Of course, things can still happen in an empty alleyway in the middle of the night. People already knew that. It was a very bad idea, and who knows what could happen to a person – alone – walking in those alleyways.
But he was not stupid. Reckless, but never stupid. Either way, he could handle himself in certain situations. But in retrospect, who could ever try to steal a drunken orc? Divines know it could be the end of him if he tries to do so.
But then he saw it.
Upon walking, he saw two shadowy figures in the night. The torches were really of no use as the lighting wasn't enough to show their faces. It looked like they also came from the Understone to celebrate the festivities.
They were talking, but he was around twelve steps away from them, so he couldn't hear properly what they were saying.
But somehow, it all felt wrong.
When he crossed them, their talking stopped. It was obvious that they wanted their privacy, and Torguk was no oaf to be underestimated.
His gaze seem to pass by those two again as he continued walking (but this time, at a slower pace). As he gained distance again, he hid behind a wall and attempted to overhear the conversation. He went by unnoticed. After a while, they continued their talking.
"What's taking them so long? The guards will become suspicious." One person said. He was clearly a Breton judging by his slightly smaller stature and light brown skin.
"We have to be patient." Another person replied. It was quite a few seconds until he heard two sets of footsteps and someone creating a muffled sound. "There they are now."
He took a peek.
He saw them.
Three Nords and a Breton shuffling away from the streets as they curved their way through the commons. One was carrying a woman in his shoulders.
She was struggling.
Her shouts were mere squeaks as cloth bands gagged her mouth and covered her wrists.
What the orc was really surprised of,
Maeric was with them.
A/N : Ohhh early cliffy. But yeah. I had to. Sorry. I'll have the next chapter done as soon as possible though. :D
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Thanks to the folks that followed and faved my story! I really appreciate the thought, guys! :D
Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics and/or song Amelia sung in this chapter. All the credits goes to the wonderful celtic folk-singer, Erutan. Her YouTube page is katethegreat19 or you could just type in Erutan too. The music is entitled "So Far Away And So Near", check it out in her bandcamp page from the album Raindancer if you have the time. Also, the song themes I had in mind with what the band was playing in this chapter also comes from Erutan's new instrumental-only album, Court of Leaves. you could listen to it also at Erutan's bandcamp page.