Fate's Games
(A/N: Sorry for the delay. Other stories on the go and such. Enjoy.)
The Black-Briar Meadery
The Dragonborn entered the meadery and looked around. "Welcome. Allow me to recommend the Black-Briar Mead. The purest brew in all of Skyrim," a young elf man behind the counter said, smiling brightly at her. Ungrien, she believed the name was.
"What makes Black-Briar Mead so special?" she wondered, curious. She rather liked the young elf's attitude. Her first hint something was wrong, though, was with his answer to that question.
He launched instantly into a spiel that was so obviously rehearsed it was slightly frightening. It sounded as if he'd gone over it a thousand times because his life was on the line. And with the answer to her next question, she had a sickening sense that it may very well be.
"That sounded rehearsed," she remarked suspiciously, and he almost panicked before calming down and masking his horror.
"Did it? Sorry, I'm just new at this. Don't tell Maven," he pled. He told her things, and she was increasingly tenser with his every word.
"Surely she's not that bad," the Dragonborn said.
"Not that bad? Sure, let's go with that," he replied, and she felt a little bad. He'd been opening up to her and she'd shot his concerns down.
"Tell me about Maven Black-Briar," she asked, now guarded and trying to get the young man to open up again.
"She's an absolute pleasure to work for! In fact, I almost feel guilty accepting pay from her. Why just this last week I was commenting to my fellow meadery workers just how lucky we are to be working for such a charitable family," he answered almost instantly. She was actually taken aback by the response, and just then she noticed the very woman watching him closely from behind, an icy smirk of approval on her lips. The young woman shivered at the look in Maven's eyes. All at once Indaryn swept in and brought Maven away to speak about something or other.
Left alone with the elf once more, the young woman persuaded gently, "Come on, get the truth off your chest." This time, young man, I will listen and I will believe.
"Okay look," Ungrien quickly said, obviously desperate to drop the act. "If I'm caught saying anything bad about the meadery or the family, I'm a dead man. I'm the fourth person to work the tasting counter in the last year. The last three are at the bottom of Lake Honrich. Just take my advice and just get out of Riften as soon as you can."
ES
She couldn't hide the horror and fear in her eyes. What sort of city had she stumbled upon? "By the gods," she said in disbelief. The young man looked away from her, wiping the counter fervently. "Young man, why do you stay?" she demanded worriedly.
He paused and looked up at her. After a moment he answered, "Because there's nowhere I can run."
"Do you give up so easily?" she questioned.
"My lady, please… Just don't pursue this anymore," he begged.
"If you fear her so, why did you come here for work?" she asked in almost a whisper.
Ungrien summed the young woman up silently, wondering why after all these months he'd finally poured out his true thoughts to her. And why was she so intrigued with Maven Black-Briar? For a dreadful moment he feared she was a spy come to get his true feelings on the woman. "Please, don't tell her," he pled, eyes filling with fear and slight desperation. "I'll do anything you ask, anything. Just… just don't tell her."
"Tell her? Young man, I'll do no such thing," she answered, eyes softening in pity on seeing his desperation. "Why did you choose to work here?" she repeated.
"You think it was a choice? Sure. Let's go with that," he answered, looking away from her and towards the tables.
For a moment, as she watched his helpless and forlorn expression, she felt such a surge of protection shoot through her that it was almost painful. She knew then that she would do anything to free him from this life, and so the Dragonborn whispered, "Come away from here. She never has to know."
"She will know," he replied softly, looking once more back at her. "She will know, and I'm trapped. I think you should leave." The Dragonborn felt a chill race up her spine. Nonetheless she obeyed. She didn't want to be in the same building as that… that woman.
ES
The Black-Briar Meadery was quick to become her haunt as feelings of protection unlike any she'd ever felt surged through her at the mere thought of the elven boy; and at first it had frightened Ungrien very much. Soon enough, however, he'd become accustomed to her presence and began to relax. Softly he would flash her gentle smile. When she came and Maven was speaking to him, those smiles became nervous and tight before he would quickly turn back to Maven, fear in his eyes.
She was angered at the way that woman treated the boy. He was hardly her own age, the Dragonborn was willing to bet. His smiles became grateful grins when she came for the sole purpose of seeing him and speaking to him. For the purpose of ensuring he was still there… It terrified her more than anything ever had, the thought that one day she would arrive and another would be behind the counter.
Smiles became more forthcoming. His hand softly brushed her own hand, or her arm, or her shoulder. Brushes were furthered when he would come up behind her and whisper into her hair a recommendation that wasn't Black-Briar Mead, which she'd quickly found out he actually detested with a passion. They'd worked out communications between them, where she would order Black-Briar Mead but trail upon the back of his hand the number of what she really wanted.
When he got off of work she would meet him outside, if she was around, and they would walk together to her house or his. After some time, walking next to each other became holding hands. The simple goodbyes became soft kisses he dropped upon her forehead, or the corner of her mouth if he was feeling particularly brave.
ES
It frightened her when one day, as she entered, he didn't look up at her except to spare a tired glance. She went to approach him, but Indaryn blocked her way and took her arm, bringing her none too gently to a far table and pushing her into the chair. "For your own good, and his, stay away from the boy," the dark elf warned.
"What are you talking about?" she demanded, slightly put out.
"You know what I'm talking about," Indaryn replied.
"You threaten me? Need I remind you of that Mark of Dibella?" she asked, bringing up the event from not long ago.
To her shock, he never reacted. "Share the news with all of Tamriel, for all I care!" he barked angrily, making everyone look up at him. Falling quieter he growled, "But stay away from that boy."
"Why?" she defiantly demanded.
"Because people are beginning to talk. News has reached Maven, and she is none too impressed. I have watched young man after young man tend that counter and suddenly disappear one day without a trace. I won't stand idly by and let this one be taken as well. The boy… means much to me. More than anyone else ever has. And I would sooner die than lose him," Indaryn replied. "How can I protect him with you standing in my way?"
Her eyes lit up in realization. Indaryn had come to see the boy as a son to him. "No harm will befall your child," she vowed softly, and Indaryn stared. He was silent a long moment but soon moved, leaving her alone. She left without a word to her lover, but she met him at his home, and before he could speak had embraced him tightly.
ES
She never thought there would be anything she couldn't conquer. But this terror, this fear, this panic, that she felt inside of her was surpassing everything else. Where was he? Why wasn't he here? Then she saw Indaryn in a corner, hardly visible, and… and weeping silently. What had happened? Where was Ungrien? Oh gods, if Maven had done something to him… She could defeat dragons, giants, falmer, but if he had died, she knew that her grief would be the one enemy she would never be able to overcome.
She hurried to Indaryn and demanded, "Where is he?"
Indaryn looked up at her solemnly and answered, "I don't know… I don't know…" She walked swiftly away, but as she did she heard him moan, "Oh gods, please, not again. Give the child back to me… Give him back…"
ES
She'd never seen Maven look so horrified before as the moment she had her bent backwards over the table in the inn, a dagger at her the Black-Briar woman's throat. "Where is he?" she demanded furiously.
"How dare you! I will set the Brotherhood on you! I will…" Maven began.
"You will do nothing if you're dead!" she screamed in anger, cutting Maven off.
Maven gazed at her in disbelief. "I don't know who you're talking about," Maven finally stated.
"Ungrien! Where is Ungrien!" she yelled, and no one in the inn dared approach the two.
"I've never heard the name before," Maven answered.
"Liar!" she shrieked, tears in her eyes. And to make a point she drew blood, making Maven shiver in fear, for once in so long realizing her own mortality. "Do not make me kill you, Maven. Or perhaps it should be one of your children who dies?"
In that moment she saw terror. She saw fear. She saw weakness unlike any she had ever known the woman to possess. "You wouldn't," she breathed.
"If my dear one is dead, one of your children will join him at the bottom of that watery graveyard," she answered simply. "Give him back to me. Give-him-back."
ES
The cell door was opened and the shackled and weakened elf looked up fearfully. Was now his time to die? His heart leapt and his eyes widened, however, on seeing her. The next thing he knew she had sobbed and run to him, kissing his lips desperately and weeping. The moment he was unlocked, his arms were around her. "You found me," he breathed.
"You're safe, you're safe," she said, sobbing. Tightly he held her, rocking her. Worriedly he looked up at his employer, whose eyes were like ice.
"What have you done?" he asked the young woman in his arms, suddenly feeling a desperate protection. If she had made a deal with Maven…
"Never mind," his lover answered.
"Your little harlot threatened me, that's what," Maven growled. "Get out of here, the both of you!" Before Ungrien could react to the news, the Dragonborn had pulled him out of the prison and all the way back to the meadery.