Thanks again everyone for the reviews.
This water is fabulous! Gods, this was a good idea. Azriel laid her head back against the large tub and relaxed further into heat. It calmed her and restored life to her aching muscles. Azriel closed her eyes, her thoughts floating softly on their own accord. They drifted lazily as she lowered herself under the water, drowning out the sounds of the hall and the world around her.
Her heart thumped softly in her ears; her thoughts swam in the sea of faces and feelings. She broke the water surface gently and with her eyes still closed, she took in a deep breath. Aela. Her feelings of guilt and anger resurfaced. She opened her eyes and looked at the ceiling of the bathing chamber. A knock on the door interrupted her.
"My Thane … er … Azriel, I am sorry to interrupt you." Argis' voice resounded from the other side of the door. She knew he wouldn't interrupt her if he didn't think it was important.
"For the love of Akatosh, Argis, just come in." she called.
He opened the door and attempted to avert his eyes from the oversized tub, realizing the mountain of bubbles spilling out of her bath obscured her heavily scarred body. She was looking at him inquisitively as he sat down on the chair next to the tub, her long red hair slicked back out of her normally obscured face.
He looked at her as he sat down; her golden eyes were always piercing, set into her deeply tanned young face. Her skin was honey brown. She is quite beautiful; the unusual sunset-gold color of her eyes was rather unsettling. So young for someone with so much responsibility, he thought. He knew she was eighteen years in age. She had scars on the left side of her face that went diagonally across her cheek, as if made from the swipe of a paw, which she obscured with her hair.
The scars covered the entire side of her face, the deepest parts were in her cheek, and they stopped at her nose. The right side of her face was as smooth as silk, the side she left uncovered. He'd never asked since it wasn't his place, but he guess the scars were made by a large cat. It did make him curious though, since she had them as long as he knew her.
She moved in the tub to look at him dead on and waved a hand at him, "Are you alright?"
He allowed himself a moment to clear his thoughts before continuing. "You received a letter a moment ago. The courier said it was very important, or I wouldn't bother you otherwise." He made to hand her the letter realizing she was soaking wet and in the tub.
"Oh, just read it to me." She said softly.
He opened the sealed letter and began, "Azriel, you keep some interesting company. We need to talk, soon; the sooner the better. You know where to meet me. Signed 'D'."
She growled a very inhuman growl. "Argis, was the courier by chance an older woman?"
He shivered at her growl, "Yes. She said it was important that I give you this immediately. Though I'm not sure why, it's not very 'urgent' sounding."
"To her, it is." She sighed. "She's relentless in her ideology of what it is I should be doing."
"You lost me." His confusion was obvious.
She looked at him again, realizing it was probably for the best he stayed that way. He wasn't Lydia. She couldn't confide in him like she could Lydia. She laid back against the edge of the tub and closed her eyes again, "Suffice it to say, she a flaming bitch from the deepest reaches of the Deadlands. She has her ideas of what a Dragonborn should be, and those ideas are in slight conflict of person I am."
He nodded in understanding, "So what should I do if she returns?"
"Tell her I said 'Fuck off back to the Void.'" She laughed.
Argis smiled. "I'll make sure I tell her."
She cracked and eye and peeked at him, "And unless you plan on washing my back for me, could I return to my bath in peace?"
He chuckled, got up, and walked out closing the door behind him.
Azriel padded silently back to her bed chamber. She shut the door and dropped her towel. Her bed was covered with a few of her things which she had dropped there before the bath.
Azriel picked up her enchanted armor from the bed and set it on top of the dresser. She set her dragonbone sword, Jusk, against the dresser. Only her ruck sack remained. Azriel turned it upside down, spilling the contents onto the bed. Soul gems, a dragonbone bow and arrows, and several other items tumbled out.
Azriel picked up her bow, Silnaak and set it next to Jusk. She had made both in the Skyforge about a year ago with Eorlund's help. Eorlund had forged the bone with Skyforge steel and had even spent the evenings carving the bone with intricate, old Nordic designs. He had inlaid silver into the sword carvings on the blade. When she had questioned him, he had smiled and said it was 'for the undead', since she was so fond of exploring caves.
When the two were finished, Azriel had taken the weapons to Dragonsreach and enchanted them. The bow was dual enchanted with soul trap and drain health; the sword with fire and shock enchantments. They were the most beautiful weapons she had ever made. It was Eorlund that had suggested naming them once they were both finished.
Azriel turned back to her things to start getting ready for the morning.
It was late evening when she had finished. Azriel slipped on her doeskin breeches and a tunic. She wasn't a dress-wearing type of girl. She had a quick bite to eat before deciding to drop into bed for the remainder of the evening. Azriel was tired and wanted to get an early start in the morning. It wasn't long before she slipped into sleep...
She felt the cool tendrils entwine around her, dragging her below the waves of ebony ice. They were as relentless as they were unstoppable. Frost chilled her breath and burned her lungs; then the feeling was gone.
The Abyss of this dream swirled silently around her. The silence was maddening; it compounded the lurid feelings of what was inevitably coming next. Moments were hours, time was a maze she couldn't navigate. Frustration compounded with fear, fear became anger, anger losing to frustration; a cycle that repeated itself over and again.
"I know you are here." her Thu'um vibrating the abyss, "Why do you hide?"
"Zu'u dreh ni iliis, Ahziial." The burning golden eyes blinked into existence, its form obscured by the ever knotting and unknotting of smoky tendrils.
"Why do you haunt my dreams?"
"You know the reason. Yet, you fail to see what is in front of you. What is inside of you." the dragon's voice shook her.
"And I have told you before, Worm, be gone. You are not welcome here." her anger was unmistakable.
The dragon laughed. "I am always here!"
Azriel roared in frustration. "I am sick of this dream and tired of your endless games! BE GONE!"
Her eyes opened, it was dawn.
Heading to Morthal through the Reach wouldn't take too long, probably not more than two days if she stuck to the main road and cut though the River Hjaal. She hated the main roads, but some sacrifices needed to be made. Besides, this was Forsworn territory. The roads may be easier to navigate rather than the rocky terrain, and less dangerous as well. For a moment, Azriel thought about summoning Odahviing to make this trip somewhat easier.
The road to Karthwasten was quiet. The trip was only a few hours to reach the mining village from Markarth. When she arrived, two men were in a heated discussion.
"I want you sellswords out of my mine." said the angry Breton.
"Watch your tongue Native; we'll leave when we're sure there are no Forsworn here." the Sellsword growled back.
"Oh? When will that be, I wonder? When I sell my land to the Silver-Blood Family?" the Breton snapped back.
"The Silver-Blood family has made you a generous offer for this pile of dirt. I suggest you take it." The Sellsword snarled.
"I'm not selling my mine to the Silver-Blood family, Atar," said the angry Breton.
"Then we're not leaving," Atar answered, turning and storming off.
An Orc Sellsword looked at Azriel, "We're in control of this mine. No sudden moves."
"Go fuck yourself, Orc." Azriel retorted.
"What'd you say bitch?" he shot back.
"GO FUCK YOURSELF, ORC!" her Thu'um shook Karthwasten and knocked the Orc to the ground. The Orc's eyes grew wide and the miners backed away from her.
The angry Breton came running back over to where Azriel was standing. "By the Gods, you're the Dragonborn! Perhaps you can help me out. I'm Ainethach, and this was my silver mine."
This is why I hate the main roads. Azriel thought to herself. But, she was here now and this needed to be dealt with.
The Orc made use of the distraction to hurry off and inform Atar that the Dragonborn was in Karthwasten.
"If the Forsworn aren't attacking my town, the Nords are trying to force me off of it." Ainethach said.
"Trouble with the mine?" Azriel asked, trying to get to the point.
"Robbery is what it is. The Silver-Bloods are trying to muscle in on my land!" Ainethach snapped.
"Look, I don't need the attitude, you asked for me for my help. I'm here and I'm listening." Azriel responded impatiently.
"Forgive me. I'm at my wit's end. Forsworn attacked the mines, and suddenly all these sellswords show up to 'help'. They won't let anyone help until I sell it off."
"Sounds a little too timely on their part, if you ask me. What if I convince them to leave?"
"You can try, but I'd keep your sword-arm ready if things get ugly." Ainethach replied.
She stepped closer to Ainethach , "Tell you what," she said quietly looking around, "Why don't you, your miners, and that guard over there go have a town meeting or something while I go talk to your 'friends' in the mine?"
He looked at her quizzically, "Alright. I'll gather everyone up."
Azriel smiled at him and turned toward the mine, her wolf spirit was pacing in her mind. No, not this time. First we try to negotiate and if that doesn't work, I have a plan. The wolf yipped at her, disgusted.
She walked through the mine, past one of the sellswords, and into the main cavern. Azriel saw Atar standing in the middle of the cavern.
"The mine is closed, get lost." He said in a bored tone.
She walked over to the edge of the table and sat down in the chair. She picked up a bottle of ale, and popped the top off. "Are you in charge here?" She took a drink of the ale. It was nice and cold.
He turned and looked at her, "I'm not from here. I'm a sellsword, these are my men."
"Why have you shut down the mine?" Azriel asked. She knew the answer; she was just hoping it wouldn't lead to a fight.
"Forsworn attacked a while back. The Jarl didn't have any men to spare, so the Silver-Bloods generously offered to send us to clean things up."
"I want you and your men to leave." Azriel replied in an even tone.
"We just want that old native to hand over his land as payment for our services. Then we'll leave, and everyone can get back to work." Atar answered, irritated.
She laughed, "Good luck with that."
He put his hand on the hilt of his sword. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"He's not selling, and he didn't invite you here. I suggest that if you want to get paid, you head right back over to the Silver-Bloods and ask for your gold." She suggested casually. She took another drink of the ale.
It was obvious that Atar was trying to figure out what she was doing. She looked back up at him, "You might want to take your hand off that sword. You're starting to irritate me."
"Is that right? Well you might want to get out of my mine." He snapped back.
Azriel raised her hand, and in one quick motion, she flicked her wrist. A black vortex opened next to Atar. He spun on his heel and snapped his head around to look at her just as a Dremora Lord stepped through the portal.
Atar reeled backwards into the wall, drawing his sword. "What in Oblivion is this?"
The Dremora Lord stepped forward to Azriel and knelt down. "How may I serve you my Lord?"
Her piercing gaze captured Atar's frightened stare, and she smiled a wolfish grin. "Kill everyone in this mine." The Dremora Lord rose in an instant and drew his sword as he spun to face Atar "I honor my Lord, by destroying you!" he yelled.
Azriel enjoyed her ale as the screams of the men reached her ears from throughout the mine. It wasn't very long before the dank mine fell silent. She barely heard the almost inaudible footsteps of the Dremora as he approached her and knelt for a second time. "I have done as you commanded, my Lord."
"Rise, and return to your Realm. You have done me a great service and you have done it well." Azriel said with a smile. The black vortex opened a second time and the Dremora disappeared through the gateway.
Azriel walked out of the mine and up the short path to the small wooden houses. She followed the voices of the townsfolk to the largest of the homes and knocked on the door. Ainethach answered looking worried. "Did you get them to agree to leave?" he asked.
"No." Azriel answered, "Atar chose poorly. They're dead. On the bright side, you can get back to work now."
Ainethach's mouth fell open. "You killed them all?"
"Yes. And, you're welcome." Azriel answered flatly. She turned to go and Ainethach reached out, grasping her shoulder. She looked down at his hand and back at him.
"Thank you so much for your help! Please take this for everything you've done for us." Ainethach spoke rapidly, handing her a coin purse. He turned back to the door way, "Everyone, the Dragonborn has reopened our mine! We can get back to work." He called happily.
She turned away and rolled her eyes, she was ready to leave. She started walking down the path leading out of Karthwasten, while the happy chatter of the miners faded behind her. She really should have called Odahviing…