AN: So, if you've read this far I figure I should ask for opinions. Do you guys like long chapters? Short chapters? How do you find the pacing so far? How do you find character development? Help me improve my writing so I can write better stories for you all.
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Argis was awoken by a loud clanging noise and muttered swearing. He grinned blearily, realizing that his thane had thrown open his door, and not expecting the doors to be so well oiled and balanced, he had thrown it open. The Nord smirked at the man's obvious newness to the homes of Markarth, but he shook his head in dismay when it really sunk in. This man knew so little about the city he was going to be a thane of. Argis rolled off the furs covering the stone bed and winced when his stiff body protested his uncomfortable bed. He could always retrieve the padding he used at his old home, but then he would be honour bound to offer it to this Altmer puppet.
He vigorously scrubbed his face as he placed his feet on the hard floor. The little fire had kept the cold at bay from his room and he stretched himself before donning his armour. He could hear noise coming from the kitchen, and he knew that the high elf was mucking around in there. Grumbling to himself as he adjusted his steel armour to fit snugly over his bulky frame, he quietly hoped that the man at least knew how to cook. He did not want to become a housecarl who swept up after a slob.
Opening the door softly and closing behind him without a sound, Argis clanked over to the kitchen and winced at what he saw. There were several burned chunks of fish on pans near the fire and a sullen looking wizard sitting in the chair by the fire. Ard perked up immediately upon seeing Argis and asked with obvious hope in his voice, "Ah, Argis, good to see you. You wouldn't know how to cook these better than I, would you?"
The Nord seethed on the inside but kept his face neutral. This wizard, supposedly a person of learning, did not even know how to cook? He nearly snarled in disgust at how much influence the Thalmor carried. He realized with a mental jerk that the wizard was still waiting for him to reply and he quickly nodded and stepped over to the unprepared meat. Living alone had taught him to feed himself well, if nothing else. "You don't know how to cook?" he asked, making sure to avoid sounding judgemental.
The wizard archly replied, "I've never really had to. My success clearing out the monsters of the various holds has always given me enough coin to sleep in an inn with beds that aren't stone slabs." He shrugged and added, "Besides, you can precook a lot of your food by simply setting it on fire while it is still alive. Get the raw bits and add a little more fire to cook them through."
Argis merely sighed and continued to set up the various unburned pieces of food that had been left untouched. An awkward silence descended upon the pair as the Nord's innate hostility was further agitated by the Altmer's arrogant manner. Keeping himself in check, Argis wordlessly offered the elf his half of the food and asked, "You said we were going to rout some greedy Forsworn today. What's the plan?"
Picking over his meal and appearing distracted, the wizard replied, "We're going to leave soon – it's almost dawn, isn't it? – and then ride to their camp and crush them."
Argis nearly choked on the leek he was swallowing when he heard the "plan." He nearly snarled but reigned himself in and asked, "That's it? That's the entire plan?"
Shooting him another disdainful glance, Ard replied, "Yes. It's worked countless times before, and I don't see why it shouldn't work now."
The housecarl inclined his head without a word, not trusting his voice to remain level. This fool elf was going to get them both killed through his arrogance. In the back of his mind, a tiny, panicked voice was hissing that it will happen all over again. The loss of his thane's life would irrevocably damage Argis' honour and position in Markarth and probably force him to leave the Reach entirely. For the first time in a long time he felt like breaking down. Why? Why was he given a chance to prove himself only to know that it will fail in the end? He could no longer even sell himself as a mercenary out of Markarth as he would be too well known, too shamed, for even the caravan's to take him. He wanted to slam his fist into the smug face of wizard and shout at him that there was more riding on this than his worthless life; that this could be his last chance to be buried in the Hall of the Dead with honour.
Instead, he held these seething emotions in check and ate quietly, his face impassive. The simple meal was finished in silence, with the thoughts of both men remaining unspoken. Ard finished his meal first and rose quietly, placing the dishes in a bucket of water for later. Argis noted the gesture, feeling hopeful for a moment. Since he obviously thought that there would be a later, perhaps he would be more careful.
"Well, we should probably go now," the wizard declared with slight uncertainty. His housecarl nodded and shrugged on his pack and they both set out for the horses.
The city of Markarth was just beginning its routines as the two carefully walked down the winding paths to the bottom of the city. As they left the city, they were treated to the full glory of the rising sun as it spilled its luminescence over the landscape and make the stony land near the city look golden.
After taking a moment to take in the sight, they met up with the stable master. Argis grinned at the sandy haired man, who still ran the stables after all this time. Though his hair was much greyer and his face was lined, he still had the same warm smile that had always sent Argis off with a horse. "The two horses, if you please," Ard said in a jaunty tone. Replying, "Of course, my thane," the man whistled loudly.
A young boy with red hair and blue eyes emerged from the stables moments later, leading two roan geldings. Argis did a double take at the sight of the boy, who reminded him sharply of Calder. Once he surreptitiously examined the lad, he stopped seeing the resemblance, but he felt like he was back at that first battle against the Forsworn for a moment. He felt slightly ashamed not to have even thought of the other boy – man, now – for years. He took a deep breath of the clean morning air to clear his head. This was not a time for sentimental remembrances.
After quickly shifting their supplies into the saddlebags of the horses, they mounted up and began to canter down the winding road. The bandit camp had been discovered to be on the road, so they could make good time and use the road as opposed to having to navigate more hostile terrain.
Argis was thankful for the swift pace and enduring horses. Not only would they make it to the camp soon, but conversation became impossible too. Falling back into his caravan guard's habits, he scanned the terrain around him for potential threats and ambushes, but he saw nothing besides a wolf in the distance. It silently watched them pass, and Argis hoped it was a sign of good luck.
They pulled off the road after an hour and ducked underneath a small overhang. Argis double checked that it was free of any traces of predators who might threaten their horses while they were picketed here. They ate a quick, cold meal and made meaningless small talk before beginning to march northward. The whole march began to feel surreal to Argis, who felt that he was following in the exact same path that had claimed Keldin. His dread grew stronger with each passing step as they drew closer to their destination.
They lay down and crawled forward as they reached the crest of a hill. Peeking over, he saw the collection of crudely made huts and counted out the ten Forsworn. Fools, he thought to himself, didn't they know that the land was crawling with adventurers who would report their location to the guard? He shook his head at their foolishness but was startled by movement next to him.
Ardanthis rose suddenly to his feet, glanced down at the housecarl, hissing in a tight voice, "Charge them, now!" and began to pound down the other side of the hill. Bringing his hands together, he ignited a bolt of flame between his hands and hurled it into the assembled Forsworn. He quickly repeated the gesture twice more, shooting out two more bursts of fire at the knot of warriors. The first two blasts scored direct hits, but the third one was nimbly dodged. Argis scrambled down the hill after his thane, nearly panicking when he saw the Forsworn drawing out bows and taking aim at the wizard.
Six of the remaining enemies ducked for cover as lightning crackled around the clenched fists of the wizard. Two Forsworn stood bravely in the open and took aim at the wizard. Lancing one archer with two bolts, Ard dropped the ground to barely dodge the other arrow. The Forsworn cheered, thinking that they had killed him and they began to surge towards Argis.
Argis felt a rush of relief as he saw the pinched face of the wizard rise up from the tall grass and press his hands together before hurling a bolt of lightning into the last archer. The shocked man's face was locked in an expression of slack jawed surprise as the spell slammed into his chest. He convulsed and collapsed to the hard earth.
"Argis!" bellowed the elf in a voice tinged in panic as the other six foes approached him. Argis spared a glance over to his thane to see a pale complexion and the man drawing his glass dagger. Argis tried to interpose himself between the wizard and the oncoming attackers, but they fanned out to get around him. He knew he had to buy Ardanthis time. The dagger meant that he had tapped out most of his internal reserves of energy and wouldn't be hurling firebolts for a while yet.
A wildly grinning man with an axe charged towards the Altmer, intent on cutting him down before he could regain offensive power. His left hand still flaming with magic, the high elf threw a weak stream of flames into his attacker's face, causing the man to scream and clutch as his ruined face. Taking advantage of his shock, Ard thrust his dagger into the man's gut repeatedly. To Argis' trained eye, the thrusts were more panicked and lucky than skilled. He grunted in disgust at the novice swings.
He couldn't spare any more attention for the wizard as three swordsmen approached him now, trying to flank him. He immediately began sidestepping to the right to avoid becoming surrounded, and he raised his shield in preparation for their attacks. The man closest to him spared him from waiting for long and rushed in towards him, yelling wildly with his sword raised.
The man's powerful overhand chop slammed into Argis' shield and staggered the defender backwards. Snarling, Argis swung his own sword to drive back the Forsworn and prevent him from pressing his advantage. By now, the other swordsmen were swinging out to his sides and would soon become a serious threat.
Argis raised his shield and charged his original attacker, who tried to dodge the wall of flesh and steel hurtling towards him but failed to. Argis grinned as he heard the satisfying crunch of the other man's face as his shield connected with him. With one more step, Argis dug his heels into the stony soil and stopped his momentum. Whirling, he stabbed the disoriented Forsworn. The man's blood covered face registered surprise as Argis' sword neatly slid under his rib cage and into his vitals. Kicking the man off his blade, Argis turned to the other two Forsworn, who now wore expressions of absolute fury.
He grinned and tauntingly called out, "Which one of you sad, slow goatspawn is going to be the next to die to a real Nord?" His long experience fighting these savages had taught him that their pride was their greatest weakness, and his experience did not fail him.
One of the swords men, who had a sword in each hand, spat at him but continued his measure advance. The other man, with only one sword bellowed a fierce cry and charged in with his sword held low. Argis narrowed his eye at the blade, unsure of where it was going. It could either stay low and shred his leg, or move higher and shred his organs. He didn't have long to wait as he Forsworn reached him rapidly and feinted high before swinging low. Seeing through the feint, Argis swung his sword down, stopping the strike. He was already swinging his shield towards the other man as he parried the strike, and it knocked his opponent's head to the side as it connected. Yanking his own sword, which was caught in the spikes of the blade, viciously he disarmed the Forsworn. He grinned in relief that his gambit had succeeded. If the other man had managed to keep his head, it could have been the housecarl whose sword was ripped away. The Forsworn looked dazedly at Argis and glanced at his empty hand in confusion. He never saw the strike that swept a span of steel through his collarbone and into his chest. He collapsed with a wet gurgle.
Argis swore as his blade got stuck in the dead man but glanced up when he heard his thane shout, "Argis!" The wizard's battle had not gone nearly as well as Argis' and the housecarl could see that he was using short bursts of frost magic to harass his two attackers and keep them from overwhelming him. This tactic also prevented him from regenerating enough power to turn them into piles of ash.
His distraction and embedded sword cost Argis as his last opponent capitalized on it. He swung his swords through the air forcing the Nord to abandon his sword and throw himself out of the way. His desperate dodge saved his life, but he did not escape woundless. He felt a hot line of pain run down his arm as the sword raked it. He realized that he had landed near the body of the first man he had killed and snatched up his fallen foe's sword before rising to his feet quickly. The Forsworn, now smiling smugly, swung his left sword quickly and Argis was forced to parry with his new blade. The two blades became entangled with each other and Argis swore and tugged, but the other man was prepared for this and kept his grip. They began tugging on their blades, each trying to disarm the other. The Forsworn began swinging his other sword, forcing Argis to block with his shield and try to free his sword at the same time.
They continued in this stalemate for a short while before, with a horrible wrenching noise, the spikes on Argis' sword gave out and his sword broke free. Both men staggered back from the sudden freedom but recovered quickly and swept towards each other. The other man swung his swords in a scissor attack to try to force Argis onto the defensive. Not willing to let the other man dictate the pace of the attack, he threw himself forward and down into the legs of the Forsworn. The other man grunted in surprise as they both fell to the ground. Quickly straddling his enemy, Argis bashed the hilt of his sword into the Forsworn's face repeatedly before leaning back and slamming the point of the blade through the disoriented man's chest and into the ground.
He got off the blood spurting body and ran to his own sword skyward jutting in the body of the other man. His own wounded arm ached as he planted his foot on the corpse, gripped his sword, and yanked the blade out with a horrible sucking and cracking noise. He turned to his thane, finally able to help him and began to run to him.
Ard crowed in triumph as he blinded a Forsworn with a burst of frost energy and slashed at her throat. He slid his dagger between her arms and into her throat as she clawed at the ice covering her face. She gurgled wetly and collapsed, her hands now clutched at her gushing throat and she quickly stilled.
The wizard's other opponent was not idle though, and he pulled back his sword to thrust it into the robed form in front of him.
Argis saw this threat and tried to calculate a way to stop it as he barrelled forward. He grimaced at the realization that a parry would only drive the fatal blow higher or lower and not stop it. It would have to be his shield then.
He jarred the wizard aside as he interposed himself between his thane and the attacker. The Forsworn's thrust skittered along his hastily put up shield and slid past.
Argis' mouth filled with the taste of blood as the Forsworn's sword slid under his breastplate and into his side. He screamed as the agony hit him and the man brutally jerked his sword out of the housecarl. Argis collapsed the ground, instinctively slapping a hand over the gaping wound in his side and watched numbly as the Forsworn swung his sword at the mage. Ard tried to sidestep and parry, but his dagger was snagged by the Forsworn who ripped the dagger from his hands by throwing his sword wide. The unarmed wizard sucked in a quick breath and roared, "FUS!" and a concussive burst of energy slammed into the Forsworn and staggered him. The wizard's hands burst into flame and he lunged in to clamp them onto the head of the last Forsworn. Argis watched with fading vision as the wizard's hands erupted into flames that left the man's head a blackened skull.
Breathing became very difficult and Argis wasn't sure if he wanted to continue doing it anymore. The pain was fading and being replaced by a soothing numbness and he was sure he would see Sovngarde soon enough. He closed his eyes with a sense of relief, waiting to open them to see the afterlife. A brilliant golden glow flared through his vision and he felt gentle warmth trying to replace the coldness in his side. His fogged mind registered what this meant and he panicked, using the last of his strength he latched a blood soaked hand onto the wizard's wrist. Around a mouthful of blood he gasped out, "Let me die. I want to see Sovngarde."
The high elf looked at him like he was mad and jerking him arm back, he unhitched a small vial from his belt. Argis was relieved when he saw it was blue and not red. The wizard would not deny him an honourable eternity. "I will not let you die. You gave your life for mine and I will give it back," declared the Altmer. Sucking back the contents of the vial, the wizard murmured, "Always keep it in reserve for putting people back together and not blowing them apart." His tone said that he was repeating something said to him often.
The words slowly wound their way through Argis' darkening mind and he realized what it meant. His fear was confirmed by a flare of golden light between the wizard's hands. The numbness was spreading though, and he knew the wizard's efforts wouldn't be enough. He closed his eyes and silently asked his father to forgive him for failing. He hoped he had stood tall in the end.
A burst of healing magicka swept through his prone form, causing him to choke and spit blood and he saw a dawn exploded behind his eyelids. He felt the numbness fade and nearly wept with despair. The wizard's pale face was painted gold by the next wave of mystical healing he had kindled in his hands and this time Argis could feel the Altmer's hands on his side. He saw the mage begin to charge a third burst of magical healing but Argis lunged forward and grabbed the spellcaster's wrist to spoil the spell. The golden light faded away as the containing hands slipped away.
It bitterly struck him then, that if he was strong enough to lunge like that then he would live. He never hated anyone as much as he hated this elf right now.
The high elf looked at him with a widely grinning face and sat back, clearly satisfied with his work. The dark expression that covered Argis' face quickly caused the joy to be replaced with confusion. He asked, "Are you still in pain? I've got enough strength left for one more healing sp-"
The housecarl sobbed and then screamed at the wizard, "You don't understand what you've done, do you! You've taken it from me!"
Frowning and glaring in confusion, the wizard replied, "I took nothing. The healing magic won't leave you weaker. You'll recover completely with-"
"You took Sovngarde from me," snarled the housecarl bitterly. He slumped back, looking away from the high elf.
The wizard looked completely bewildered now and demanded in an exasperated voice, "How did I take your afterlife from you?"
The housecarl didn't even look at his thane but mumbled to himself, "Guaranteed to go there and now it's gone." Argis scrubbed his face and tenderly rose to his feet before saying in a flat voice, "We should return to Markarth, my thane."
The elf grunted and rose to his feet. He darted over to his glass dagger and retrieved it. After inspecting it for damage, he sheathed with a satisfied smile. The housecarl's slumped shoulders and downcast eyes reminded him that this was not an undisputed success.
They marched in silence to the horses which shied away from the blood covered forms approaching them. Argis looked at the setting sun and said in quiet voice, "We should stay here for the night. We won't make it back to the city before dark falls, and I don't want to be caught in the dark without a fire.
With a grateful nod, they both went to gather wood for the fire. Neither of them wanted to be left alone in the darkness in the exhausted condition they were in. Luckily there was a fallen tree nearby which they stripped for branches and whatever would they could find. They walked back to the camp with a heavy silence hanging over them.
The fire was started with a casual wave of the wizard's hand. He looked at the dejected housecarl and mentally pondered the situation. He wanted the Nord as his ally and frankly didn't like seeing someone who would have given their life for his looking so sad. He forced himself to be cheerful and mentioned, "Think of the feast they have prepared for us when we return! We'll eat-" but he was cut off by Argis.
The housecarl flicked his gaze to the wizard whose attempt to be cheerful was painfully obvious, and then returned to staring into the fire and said, "There won't be a feast. They wanted both of us to die."
Snorting slightly, the Altmer replied, "Of course I know that. Did you think I couldn't tell the jarl hated having a 'Thalmor puppet' as a thane? I figured they'd be more willing to reward a son of their own city."
Argis barked out a bitter laugh at the naïveté of the elf. The wizard looked at him curiously, seemingly honestly confused. Incredulously, Argis demanded, "You really don't know the history of your illustrious housecarl?" Ard appeared unfazed by the venomous emphasis put on "illustrious" and wordlessly shook his head at the Nord.
Sighing in disgust, Argis continued, "You aren't my first thane." He closed his eyes against the penetrating gaze of the elf and continued speaking in a soft voice, "He was slain by a hagraven's fireball before I could do anything." He traced his fingers down the scarred side of his face and fell silent for a moment and seemed to struggle with something internally before he resumed speaking, "After that, I've lived a life of disgrace. That's why they assigned you to me – they hoped that I would fail you like I failed Keldin. I think they expected I would kill myself long ago." He smiled wryly at his last words and opened his eyes.
"So that's why you wanted to die back then? An honourable death in combat saving the life of your thane would have wiped all of that out and left you free to go to Sovngarde," said Ard softly.
Argis nodded and returned to staring into the fire. The high elf mused for a moment before casually saying, "Well too bad. I'm not going to let an experienced and loyal housecarl die when I can stop it. I do not believe in honour in the same way that Nords do. I'm sure there's a way you can live it down; death can't be the only option. Don't you have anything else besides honour to live for?" The Nord nearly laughed at the way the wizard unwittingly echoed Rha'sharj.
The housecarl hesitated for a moment before looking the elf square in the eye and murmured, "What were the gods thinking when they made the dragonborn into an Altmer wizard who doesn't even believe in our ways?"
The wizard sighed and replied, "You aren't the first to ask that. I've even wondered myself, but it appears to be my fate. The Voice is a power given to me, and I will master it like I've sought to master the arcane." He waved as if to waft the whole conversation away from himself, "I'll take first watch. Try to get some sleep, Argis."
The man nodded silently and kicked off his boots before laying down on his bedroll in his armour. He quietly realized that it had been a long time since someone had called him Argis and not housecarl or guard. He liked it.
The first half of the night passed uneventfully as the wizard sat in the darkness watching the wilderness. He quietly shook Argis awake and settled in for his own rest. The second half of the night saw a bear meandering in the distance, but nothing that would require any action. Argis spent the night thinking about his problems. Maybe the elf was right. Maybe he could serve faithfully and have honour at the end of his life. He sighed and looked up at the dancing aurora in the sky before glancing back at his sleeping companion.
He tried to imagine what the Altmer had gone through to make him to leave everything and flee for an entirely different country. He mechanically scanned the wilds in front of their camp and slowly fed the fire while he realized the smallness of his own scope of vision. He had only ever seen the western part of Skyrim, and he was basing his entire life on just a fraction of the world. He gnawed his lower lip and thought of the other exotic locations he could go to if he was cast out of Markarth. He glanced back at the peacefully sleeping face of the wizard and gave a small smile. If this elf could rise up to a position of prominence in a foreign land, then he could rise up in a different city in his own homeland. He spent the rest of his watch trying to imagine different lives in different places.
The rising sun seemed to reflect his hope as he knelt down to gently wake his thane.