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Chapter 07 - Helgen

About an hour out of Whiterun, en route to Riverwood, Sorcalin pulled up. "Andreius, would you hold the horses, please?"

Andreius chuckled. "The Great Reveal, hmm? Yes, I suppose we should get that out of the way before we run into bandits or something and terrify our young companions."

The two of them dismounted, followed by Imiril and Arenim. Sorcalin called the two mer to come a bit further up the trail with him, then turned to them. "I have a ... certain extra combat ability that's almost universally considered at best revolting, even criminal in some places. But you're traveling with me, so you need to know."

"Let me guess," Arenim said. "You're a shapeshifter, with that caution, so that means werewolf or Vampire Lord." She thought for a moment. "You haven't shown any particular desire for blood, and you eat normal meals, so werewolf. But you wouldn't admit that, unless - Faal Mungrohiik!"

Sorcalin grinned, and bowed slightly. "I am indeed, Skyguard."

Imiril was practically bouncing on his toes. "You're going to shift?"

Sorcalin couldn't help laughing. "Yes, youngster. Andreius and I don't want you reacting badly if I have to do so in combat, so we thought you ought to see in advance. I have to warn you, though, that it isn't pretty."

"Neither is seeing torture," Imiril said, suddenly grim. "But I was raised Thalmor, so at least seeing it is part of the training." He shuddered. "At least I never had to participate."

"Watching a dragon feed isn't particularly pretty either," Arenim agreed.

"Very well. My wolf will be sniffing you after the change, so please try not to flinch or feel fear."

With that, he willed the shift, doubling over briefly, then straightening again. It was interesting that Imiril smelled more curious/intrigued than anything else, and Arenim simply smiled.

His wolf sniffed them, adding them to the "allies" list, then he shifted back, and complimented them. "Both of you handled that very well. Shall we return to Andreius?"

Nevan was getting his first close-up look at a Skyrim horse when he glimpsed Andreius and his group riding up. He'd ridden practically every day since his arrival, but on dragon-neck rather than horseback. The horses reminded him of light draft stock, rather than the genetically-engineered Arabian variants he'd grown up around, but given the weather and terrain, that was probably to be expected. He waved, smiling. "Hi, how was your trip?"

"Nice," Andreius replied, sliding off his horse. "Imiril discovered venison stew, we found out a bit about Odmer religion, and paid our respects to High King Balgruuf." He noticed Nevan's expression, and grinned. "You look like someone just cast a confusion spell on you. What's wrong?"

"Um, you don't have stirrups, something I never noticed before. We need to remedy that. I have to see how that saddle is built, unless you know what kind of a saddle-tree it has."

"Oh, something else from your plane, hmm?" Andreius grinned. "It's solid. We tried flexible or semi-solid centuries ago, but they turned out to be too hard on the horses. But what are stirrups?"

Nevan laughed. "A place to put your feet, attached to the saddle with stirrup straps. Makes mounting and controlling your animal a whole lot easier. They do require riding boots, and learning to ride with your heels down, but that shouldn't be a problem."

"Not if it makes that much difference," Andreius said. "The Legion cavalry would be interested, I'm sure. Can you make me a sample?"

"Sure, just come by J'Gashta's forge, and bring your saddle. If you're going to be in town long enough, you should be able to try them out in a couple of hours."

"We should be," Sorcalin said. "We weren't here earlier long enough to show Arenim and Imiril the first city in Skyrim to allow Betmer residents."

"Betmer?" Nevan was puzzled. "Is that an elven race I don't know about yet?"

Sorcalin chuckled. "That's a subject for debate, actually. There are theories that all the intelligent races of Tamriel except humans - well, and dragons, of course - are descended from the Altmer. So beastfolk are also known as Betmer."

"I think I prefer it as a name," Nevan said. "I don't care about the theories, it just seems more polite."

Imiril looked at the Sandeman. "Some of us like those theories, and some of us hate them ... but I agree, 'Betmer' is more polite than 'beastfolk'. I'm going to follow your example, I think."

Andreius smiled at that. If their King did that, most Altmer would follow his example, which would be diplomatically helpful. "Oh, are Argis and Lydia still giving tours of Dovahkiin's palace?"

"As far as we know," Serana said, from where she was leaning against the stable wall, her crutches beside her. "If not, I'll show your friends the public areas while Nev's working on Andi's saddle."

"That sounds good." Andreius unsaddled his horse and slung the saddle over one shoulder. "Shadr, take care of the others?"

"That's what I'm here for," the young Redguard said with a grin.

Their first stop was the blacksmith shop, where Nevan rented the use of it for two hours, including materials, from J'Gashta, and when the Khajiit blacksmith asked, agreed to let him see the new equipment being worked. No reason not to, since as soon as stirrups made an appearance, he was pretty sure they'd be adopted Tamriel-wide, and were simple enough any smith seeing them would be able to forge a set almost immediately.

The rest headed for the Palace, Arenim pausing to wave to Odkiinbrii, who was perched on a dragon tower just outside the wall. Then she turned to Serana. "Your husband seems to be very ingenious, or have many ideas from his home plane." She sighed. "I wonder ... might he know of, or be able to invent, a writing instrument that's less messy than charcoal, and less permanent than ink?

Serana chuckled. "Knowing him, probably. I'll ask."

"Thanks." She paused, then pointed. "The Skyhold Palace? It doesn't look like much.."

This time, Serana laughed aloud. "No - that's just the city plaza and Palace pavilion, so the Dovahjud can receive dovah visitors. The Palace proper is at the far end, past the hangings behind the Mirmulnir Throne."

Imiril's breath caught, and he pointed. "That? That's the Mirmulnir Throne? We heard it was huge and splendid, in a barbaric sort of way, but ... " His voice trailed off, and it was seconds before he spoke again, his voice hushed. "Mirmulnir's bones, his skull protecting her, and holding her in dragon wings ... "

He turned to Arenim. "I see your people are right calling her Favored of Auri-El."

Arenim chuckled. "Of course we are, because who else could Restore us? But it is magnificent, I agree."

"The sword in Mirmulnir's jaws was placed there the day I married Nevan," Serana said quietly. "Yssha doesn't want to harm her dovah siblings, and won't unless she's forced to."

"Yssha?" Imiril asked curiously.

"Her birth name, but pretty much only her family uses it any more. Most people either call her Ysmir or use one of her titles."

"Because the Greybeards and Talos called her that?" Arenim asked.

Serana nodded. "Exactly. Now, shall we get you that tour?"

The Palace was nice enough, Imiril thought, but by the standards of his own in Alinor City, or even Dragonsreach, it was on the small side. "It seems rather modest, for someone of the Stormcrown's stature," he said, trying not to sound critical.

Serana laughed. "It's a compromise," she said. "Yssha didn't want a palace at all, and the dragons think she should have something as grand as the White Gold Tower. This was the smallest they'd accept for her. They haven't said anything I'm aware of about it, bit I think they're a bit disappointed that she prefers to live at Lakeview Manor. She really doesn't like cities, even with the improved sanitation."

"But shouldn't she live here in case she's needed as Jarl ?"

"If she's needed, she'll fly in. Otherwise, she holds audience once a week, and her steward and housecarl handle everyday things."

"That seems odd," Arenim said. "Though I suppose she has to do enough traveling for it to make sense, especially after her time in captivity."

"Uh-huh. Well, that's about it, at least for the public areas. Want to go to the inn for a snack?"

Imiril grinned. "At least enough to hold me until lunch, sure."

Nevan's estimate of the time to re-rig Andreius' saddle was fairly accurate. When he left for the stable, then to find the other five, J'Gashta was already working on another set. Unsurprisingly, he found the group at the inn, having a meal. He joined them, bringing them up to date, and offered to show them how to adjust and use the stirrups when the meal was over.

They accepted, and Arenim repeated the question she'd asked Serana about writing instruments.

Nevan nodded. "If this universe has graphite, it shouldn't be difficult to make pencils. I know clay's fairly common, and there's loads of pine. I don't know about rubber for erasers, though."

"I don't know what graphite is," Sorcalin said. "Can you describe it? We may call it something else."

"It's a semi-metallic form of carbon, the same material as charcoal or diamonds, just a different form. It makes marks, like charcoal, but it's a lot harder."

Sorcalin grinned. "Black lead, yes. We have that."

"And if rubber comes from trees, as a thick white liquid, we have that, too," Imiril said. "The trees grow in Alinor and southern Valenwood and Elsweyr."

"Pencils should be fairly easy, then." Nevan grinned. "I've mostly been concentrating on Dwemer technology, and I will be until we can use it to make Serana a replacement leg." Nevan smiled. "I'm pretty sure what worked for the spheres or Centurions can be adapted. It'll take some work, but I'm sure she'll be walking without crutches fairly soon."

"Oh, that should definitely come first!" Imiril exclaimed. "But afterward, maybe think of other things from your plane that we can use and make for ourselves?"

"Sure, though you probably have most of the low-tech things I know about. Though ... if you didn't have stirrups, what about horse collars?"

"What's that?" Andreius asked, then shook his head. "You're talking to the wrong person. Looks like we're all done, so let's go down to the stable, and talk to an expert."

"Horse collars?" Shadr repeated, his expression blank. "Here, come look at my carriage, and you tell me."

Nevan shook his head as soon as he saw the harness. "Nope. That's just a breastband and surcingle. The horse has to pull, and cuts off his own wind if he pulls too hard. The collar protects his windpipe, and lets him push, using his hindquarters, with most of the pressure against his shoulders, not his chest and throat, and it's padded. The shafts of the carriage would attach directly to the collar, with the surcingle just being a guide."

Shadr stared at him for a moment, then grinned. "Can you draw one? I'll have it made immediately."

"Sure. I can't give you too much detail, since we didn't actually use them very much; I only know about them because my clan raised horses, and tried to keep the traditional uses alive in case a colony needed them. An Amishman from New Lancaster could give you everything, but you got me instead."

"Getting you is just fine," Shadr said. "You're helping our horses, and as far as I'm concerned, that's all I need."

Nevan led Andreius' horse out of the stable and saddled him, then mounted from the left, since that was the side he wore his sword on, and he didn't want to hit the horse with it.. The horse snorted at the odd weight shift, then looked back, and Nevan patted his neck. "It's okay, boy. Come on, let's show off what you can do with proper equipment."

When he'd completed a brief demonstration, he had Andreius give the modified saddle a try, adjusting the stirrup leathers for the Imperial's longer legs. After a brief test ride, at all the horse's paces, Andreius returned to the stable and dismounted, grinning widely. "That's quite a difference, all right, and I like it. We'll have to have all our saddles modified before we start the tour."

That evening, back at Lakeview Manor, Serana snuggled up to Nevan. "I think Brelyna's mistake wasn't really one. I think at least one of the Divines was involved ... Stendarr or Zenithar, maybe both. Maybe Talos as well, since he favors you."

Nevan shrugged. "Maybe so, maybe not. Or maybe it was Mara, bringing us together." He smiled, kissing her."Gods know, I never felt this way about any of our warriors'-women. There was usually some liking, at least in-clan, but love? Hells, until I came here and met you, I wasn't sure it was even something real, except between mother and child."

"And now you know better. I do love you, my dark-skinned blond warrior, odd coloring and all. I want your child, as soon as the gods permit me."

Nevan chuckled. "Then let's just give them the opportunity, shall we?"