Author's Note:
This is another short story written for a competition :) This one's theme is 'fire' to help those of us in the thick of it remember the unbearable heat outside :D At least for the most part.
Unlike the other competition shorts, this one ended up somewhat tied to the main fic plotline. Though it might still be alright to read even if someone didn't read the main fic up until chapter 28 of the third book, but that plotline just gives it much more detail and explains many implications and character dynamics.
I hope you'll enjoy and that you're all staying cozy and cool. Unlike the protagonist ;)
Scorcher
She actually liked the heat.
She was the only one of them who did. They all complained when they were somewhere hot and she could never understand it.
Maybe it was one of the reasons why she came here. She hoped they wouldn't follow her.
Not here of all places.
Hammerfell.
She looked at the vast emptiness ahead, at the sand dunes and the bright sun as the crashing waves and distant voices still echoed behind her back. Many might find it daunting. But here lay her freedom.
It was only a small part of it. Yes, she was on the run. Yes, she was hoping to escape somewhere they would leave her alone. But she had also wanted to come here ever since she was little. She dreamed of sandy beaches and warm winds. She dreamed of the grand cities in the desert and the adventures she might have there.
She used to have a book. A children's book. She was pretty sure that learning to read from it was her earliest memory. At least that was the only one she cared to remember from when she was so little. And after that too. So many of her memories from childhood were best left forgotten.
But not this one.
She didn't have the book anymore.
In fact, she had very little. Only the clothes on her back, a few septims and the only precious thing she owned. But it hardly mattered. She was used to living off nothing. As long as she had the memories.
She took a deep breath, inhaling the salty and oppressive air. It reminded her of that time so much. Whenever it was hot and 'unbearable', it was when she spent the most time with her brother, ever since she was little.
He was too lazy to run off from their family then and he spent all that time with her.
Like with that book.
…
"Come on, Aces, we learned this one. Look, it looks like a beggar, right? Head down, arm outstretched. What does he want?"
She concentrated on the letter, imagining an old dirty man, reaching out. She did that sometimes. Begging. It was easy, but Torban didn't like them getting money that way. They didn't get enough like that, he said. But she got enough! She was good at this. When he didn't see her and didn't get mad.
The letter. Right. She looked up at her brother. She was pretty sure she almost recalled, but his gestures distracted her. He crouched down, his head hung low as he hid it under a filthy old shawl. And he kept reaching out with his hand for a hand-out, pretending to be that beggar. He looked so funny like that. He kept making this face and hiding his teeth with his lips like an old man.
"Jack!" She giggled at him. "You're distracting me."
"Come on then! You should have learned this ages ago. What's the letter?" He smirked and nudged her arm a bit.
"Nobody learned me ages ago," she huffed. She had seen Jack read sometimes. And Rina kept reading too. It was so boring when they were reading and she wanted to do that too, but Rina only bitched at her when she asked and she mostly used her time with Jack to play pretend or some games.
"'Taught'. And… yeah… well, I'm teaching you now. What does the beggar want?" He urged her again.
Right. She knew this one.
"Free shit!"
"That's right," Jack grinned at her. "So the letter is…?"
"'F'. Like 'free'," Aces clapped her hands excitedly and looked down at the book again. Now the whole word. There was the baron's daughter, a little Redguard girl with long hair in a pretty picture. Though the book was full of stains and rips, she could still see the pictures there. The girl was no longer a pretty noble with all the jewels and dresses. She was now standing in a crowd in rags after her father's palace fell. The story was so exciting, even if there were just a few sentences on each page. Aces liked that the girl was no longer rich. Rich people were assholes. Now Aces was rooting for her, curious what she would do when she lost all the money. She was standing in a large crowd with the word written right above the picture.
"T-H-I-E-F… thief," Aces's face lit up. "She's stealing to get money. Like me!"
"That's right," Jack smiled at her and reached out to ruffle her hair. "Now, why don't you turn the page and see if she's as good as you when she steals?"
Pfft, she wasn't good. She never brought back enough. Not enough for Torban. And she got caught a few times before. Once even by a legionnaire.
But Jack still always said she was good. He said she did much better than him.
"Where the fuck are you, whelps?!" A booming voice rang across the beach. Aces was pretty sure it had to carry over the sea above Anvil, all the way to Hammerfell where the baron's daughter from the book was from.
Aces felt herself curl up instinctively, as if that would hide her. She and Jack were already hiding behind some rocks and bushes on the heated beach, somewhere Jack could find a little shade and where she could bask in the sun at the same time.
But nothing would hide them from their father.
Still, even though she saw the expression on Jack's face change, he did give her one more smile.
"Come on, before he gets even worse. We'll find out how the girl did tonight, alright?"
…
"There you are!" Someone called out from behind her, tearing her away from her memories.
Right. Back to reality. She still had one loose end to tie.
She turned around, towards the shore. The boat was still there – the one that brought her here. It was mostly hidden behind a patch of vegetation and palm trees – a small strip of life between the beach and the vast heated desert. She could hear the sailors, but she could barely spot any of them in between the obstacles. And more importantly, they couldn't see her.
Nor could they see the source of the voice.
Calvitus. She had known the man for a long time. He lived in Anvil and the Thrice-Banished often dealt with him. She had often dealt with him. They just loved sending her to deal with him.
The man was a smuggler and a… procurer. It was said he could get anything and anyone across the border unseen and unheard. He was one of the best. Or maybe the best.
She didn't even remember when was the first time she'd been asked to deal with him on behalf of the clan, but ever since she remembered, he stared at her, groped her, touched her, whenever he had the opportunity. He made her stomach churn.
But she knew he was the right man to ask for this 'favor'.
She needed to get out. She needed to disappear.
The clan… her family… she made a mistake.
Ever since she could remember, it was just her and Jack against them all. They were all hateful, spiteful, demanding. Tyrants and desperate fools. She hated them all. That's what her life had been like – siblings who were at each other's throats and abusive parents. Her life of thievery, banditry, whoring and smuggling. But she always had someone who looked out for her. She always had Jack.
Until she didn't.
He left first, to have a family, to have a real life. And then he was killed for it.
Jack died. Torban died shortly after. And that should have been it. That should have been her moment.
She could have been free.
Bishop took the opportunity right away. He killed Torban, took one of their brothers and disappeared. Aces should have done the same.
But for some fucking insane reason, she didn't. For some fucking insane reason, she hesitated.
For some fucking insane reason, she actually got… worried. About those she hated her whole life – about the little siblings and the older ones too.
Most of them weren't as resourceful as Torban's children – not as resourceful as she and Jack and Bishop. They were taught nothing. They barely knew how to take care of themselves. And while she still kept her distance, she just… hesitated for a while.
She didn't know much about any of them. She always tried to stay away as much as possible. But there was one thing she knew all too well.
She knew exactly what kind of crappy cards they'd been dealt in life.
So she stuck around like she always had to. Just for a while.
She had no idea her younger brothers would turn into the same tyrants as Torban had been so quickly. She had no idea she would be caught in that trap again without even getting a whiff of freedom.
It was all the same. A father or a brother – it did not matter. They had allies, they had power, they had skills she didn't even know about.
That was the last time she felt sorry for any of them. That was the last time she felt worried about her 'family'. That was the last fucking time she would even think of them.
And so she plotted.
Calvitus was her way out. Maybe her only way out, after she missed that fucking opportunity Bishop miraculously provided by killing Torban.
The way Calvitus had always looked at her – she knew he would say yes.
But she also knew that he was spineless. He was a contact of Torban's before and now he was a contact for her brothers. He would tell them where she went. But she hoped that wouldn't happen until after. He couldn't risk this deal falling through, could he? Not when there was a threat of her brothers not allowing her to escape at all.
No. He would do as promised. And he did. It seemed that way at least.
He often used various routes from Anvil to Hammerfell, but for transporting people that needed to disappear, this one was apparently his top choice. A small boat trading fruit. They stopped around here on some abandoned beaches of the north-west Hew's Bay to pick various fruits that nobody else bothered to pick and then bring them back to Anvil to sell them as an 'exotic treat'.
He snuck himself and Aces onto the boat, they hid among the crates, and then he told her when to sneak out again and to wait for him behind the trees, in the desert.
And here she was. The Alik'r Desert.
She had dreamt of the warmth of Hammerfell ever since she'd been little. And there was nothing keeping her back in Cyrodiil anyway. There was only pain there now that Jack was gone.
No. This was freedom.
Soon it would be anyway.
"So…" Calvitus grinned at her, wiping his sweaty brow as he approached. She wasn't sure if he was sweating from the heat or from sneaking off the boat, but it hardly mattered when he used that same hand to grab at her ass and pull her closer. Way too close. "We made it!"
"We did," Aces nodded at him. "Surprisingly enough." She had the urge to pull back from him like she had a million times before, but she forced herself to hold still this time.
"You really need to stop underestimating me, sweetcheeks," he chuckled at her and squeezed her ass promptly. Ugh. "Don't worry though, I'll show you what I'm capable of. I'm thinking we should go to the payment right away."
She knew exactly what he was capable of. That's why she picked him. And she also knew exactly what to expect from him. That didn't go both ways though.
He pressed himself against her, his sweaty body clinging to her so much she could feel it over their clothes. She waited a moment, letting him get fully distracted by groping her eagerly, his hand still squeezing her ass while the other moved to slide towards her tits almost instantly. Not that her own hands weren't busy though.
"I'm really glad you have sweet fuck-all," he smirked, whispering. He was an idiot. So consumed by what he wanted, he didn't even think of the consequences. For one, the sailors were still within earshot and he did plan on getting back to Anvil on their boat again. But that wasn't the main problem. He was an idiot for many reasons.
And he was wrong.
"Well… I did have one thing," Aces noted. Granted, she had barely any money – certainly not enough to pay him, which he was clearly happy about. She had no equipment to speak of save for her clothes. But she did have something that she would never part with.
She left the sheath of her blade tucked on the inside of her trousers to conceal it. An old trick Jack taught her. Much like the hunting knife itself, it was a gift from her dear brother.
He made this happen. He made this possible. Both times. The time she wasted her chance at freedom, when his death clearly prompted Bishop to finally kill their tormentor, and now too.
She was quick. The blade sunk into Calvitus's neck smoothly and he sputtered blood all over her instantly. There was no scream to alert the sailors, only gurgling and disturbing sounds.
And since nobody knew Calvitus was here… well… the sand would take him soon. He slumped to the ground, bleeding like the pig he was.
Aces closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating on the searing wind slashing into her cheeks. It was so hot there. A scorcher of a day, as Jack always said. She loved it.
The first scent of her freedom. Blood, salt and heat.
She looked down at the corpse at her feet after a while. How could he think she would let him go back to Cyrodiil? How could he think she would give him any chance to tell the clan where she went?
He was an idiot.
And now he was a dead idiot.
She promptly leaned down to rummage in his meager belongings. Some septims, a bag of dried meat for the voyage and a waterskin. She would need all that.
And there was also that thing strapped to his back.
A crossbow.
She had never used one. Torban taught his children how to use a bow, but she never really got into it. She preferred using a hunting knife. But maybe she would like this weapon. It was… a nice reminder of what she just accomplished.
She was free. Free from the Thrice-Banished at last.
And she was never turning back.
She looked at the desert again, leaving the corpse and the sailors behind. It almost felt like they were gone already. Now what awaited her was a long, grueling journey to civilization, across the desert with few supplies of food and water – only enough that should have lasted Calvitus on the day of his voyage back. He knew she wouldn't have anything to get across the desert. It wasn't part of the deal after all. And why would he care? He would have been past getting what he wanted from her anyway. But in turn, she did know he would have those supplies with him. All part of her plan. Now she just had to make them last.
She knew it was insane. But she also knew this was her way out.
Her clothes were getting soaked from her sweating in the heat, but each burning sensation on her body still felt like a victory.
The desert would not stop her.
…
'Scorcher' was an understatement.
The heat was exhausting. She should have been only a day or so away from a city – whether she went east or west, it didn't matter – there was one on either side, Gilane or Taneth. But walking through the sand just made it all feel eternally long.
The patch of vegetation did not last for long along the beach. In fact, it was very short. Too short for her to grab more than one fallen coconut without being seen by the sailors still around. They would have questions. Maybe they even found Calvitus's corpse already. She couldn't risk it.
But at least she grabbed one. It would help quench her thirst and hunger. One waterskin was not enough in these conditions.
It had always been strange to everyone to see her enjoy the heat at the Gold Coast. Her – a Nord. All her siblings liked it cold. She wasn't sure why she liked the heat more. But this was the first time in her life when she wished for a bit of a respite from it.
She knew that was coming though. And no matter how much she wished she was a little colder just then, she knew she should be dreading it.
She was taught that a long time ago. While she was more resilient to the heat, she was also a bit more susceptible to the cold. She suspected it wasn't as bad as anyone of any other race, likely, but it was definitely worse than her family. Even her half-breed siblings.
Jack knew that too. He always hovered around her when the nights were cold. He even gave her his own blanket often.
And when she was cold and whined about wanting to go to the desert to be warm, he was always quick to tell her that the nights there were even colder than those in the Jeralls.
She had to be ready for that.
By now, she was getting exhausted from walking in the heat and dusk was already upon her with no city in sight. At least none that she could see. The desert was disorienting, though she kept comforting herself by the constant sight of the somewhat distant shore, and there was a strange orangey haze in the distance. She wasn't sure if it was the setting sun or something obscuring the horizon. Or maybe it was a hallucination from her overheated brain. No wonder. She'd been walking for hours, trying to save the water in her waterskin and lugging a fucking coconut with her.
It was so hot.
And as weird as it felt to be adding to it, she had to make fire. Once the night came, she would likely not be able to do much in the cold. And she needed a source of heat for that.
Luckily, while the Alik'r Desert was dry and dead, it was not entirely barren. There was… vegetation here and there. It was very likely not the case deeper into the mainland, but here, there were some sharp spiky desert plants around. Not much to feed anyone, but they could be useful to her.
Somebody taught her well.
…
"It's not fair," she huffed, huddling herself into her clothes. "Why am I the only one who's cold?"
It was not fair at all. She was so excited to be back at the Gold Coast again. It'd been so cold in the Jeralls. This was supposed to be a respite. It was better, but not enough. Not at night at least.
"Because you're weird," Jack chuckled at her. "You have your blanket back at the camp. And there's fire. We can go back."
"We shouldn't have to," she groaned. "It's supposed to be warm here."
"It's winter. It's not warm anywhere, especially at night," Jack chuckled heartily. "You're acting like it's your first winter. Come on. Let's go back."
"No," she shook her head rapidly. She didn't want to go back. She fucked up a job today. Right now, she was far enough from the camp, hiding out away from everyone with Jack but… once Torban saw her, it would not be pretty.
Jack gave her a look. A look she knew all too well by now. He would say nothing, but he knew and she knew. They both knew what this all meant without even having to communicate. He had been through the same thing many times before – he could tell when she was hiding from the rest of the clan because she was just annoyed and when she was actually afraid.
Jack smiled at her in understanding. He didn't need to say anything more. He just nodded to reassure her.
"Alright."
He still stood up though, earning a glare from Aces, but much to her surprise, he did not go far.
He approached one of the strange spiky plants growing from the sand. Aces always kept away from them – they prickled a lot when she accidentally bumped into one. But Jack walked towards it with some intention, clearly. He stopped then and looked back at Aces instead.
"You know, one day, you'll be running over deserts, enjoying your unbearable heat and your freedom. Like that baron's daughter from your book," he smirked at her.
"Yeah, right," she scoffed. "Torban would drag me back through the sand, kicking and screaming." She had to roll her eyes at that notion alone. Why did he fill her head with this stupidity? There was no way out. Everyone knew that.
Jack looked away from her for a spell, a pained expression on his face. But when he looked back, he gave her a strangely encouraging smile. "He wants you to think that. But things are never as hopeless as they seem."
Hmm… she would like to believe him. But all evidence was to the contrary.
"Well, in case you ever need to keep yourself from freezing anyway…" he shrugged when he got no answer from her. "Come here."
Aces got up a little reluctantly. It was colder when she was not huddled near the still somewhat warm sand.
She walked over to him and waited expectantly. Jack promptly unsheathed the hunting knife he always carried with him. He held it by the blade carefully and offered the hilt to her.
"I have one too," she grinned at him. Granted, Jack's was nicer and sharper. Hers was rusty. She only got Torban's very old one when he taught her how to skin dead prey.
"Back at camp?" Jack smirked. He didn't need her to answer. He knew. She didn't like to carry it. She still remembered how Torban yelled at her when she was little and didn't want to deal with all that blood while skinning an animal. He made her carry it, made her do it all. She was never really much for hunting, even though she knew she had to learn. It just made her sick.
She grabbed Jack's knife instead and waited for his instructions. Soon enough, he nodded at the long stem of the spiky plant – the most prickly and hard one.
"You got thick gloves, right? Cut it off, rub your hands up and down on it to get rid of the spikes, and then cut the stem into a few pieces," he urged her and so she did.
She followed his instructions carefully like she always did, until she had a few pieces of wood set up in a small campfire, along with two sticks – one with a small wedge in it and the other rubbing against it. She did what he said and soon, the dry sticks of that prickly plant began to make smoke.
"No access to wood, dry heat, this is what you do," he smiled at her.
She always liked it when he taught her shit. She wasn't sure what use this would be, since she was pretty sure she was never going to be running around deserts and the Gold Coast had actual sources of wood, and she had no idea why and how Jack even learned this, but she still liked him teaching her.
And now they had a small fire to warm her.
She smiled back and wiped the remnants of the plant off his knife on her shirt. Then she did the same gesture he did, taking it by the blade and handing him the hilt.
Jack looked at the knife for a while, then at her. He never reached out to take it back.
"Keep it," he finally said.
"I have my own," she scowled a bit.
"No, this is your own now. I'll get a new one. Keep this and keep it on you all the time, you hear? You never know when you might need it. To keep warm or to take care of some problems."
He was really giving it to her? When she already had her blade?
Well… he knew she hated the one she had. But she had never seen him without that knife. Did he really want her to have it?
"Are you sure?"
"I won't always be around. I hope, I mean… I don't 'hope' but… I hope we can both have lives away from here. Sometimes together, sometimes alone, then meeting up again, you know? Like normal people. You're gonna need a knife too," he smiled a bit.
"We're not normal people, Jack," she scoffed.
"Maybe we can be," he looked… strange. A little sad, but hopeful.
She wasn't sure what that meant. But she was not going to argue with him. She only looked down to admire her new knife.
She would never let it out of her sight.
…
The fire was burning, warming her as the night fell and the temperatures began to drop rapidly.
Jack would have been proud of her.
She kept remembering him today. No wonder that. He always talked about her one day making her way to the desert cities. All because of that book she used to love so much.
If only he could have been with her.
Or with his family.
Alive. Anything but this.
On days like these, she liked to imagine that he was there with her, sitting by the fire with her, sometimes in silence, sometimes he spoke. Not really. She wasn't that crazy yet, even though everyone liked to remind her that it came with being the spawn of her mother.
She would never hear those insults again.
It was strange. It was a victory. One that Jack should have been enjoying with her.
"As long as one of us gets to." She imagined him smiling at her, ruffling her hair affectionately.
Yeah. She did something great today. And tomorrow, she would find the place where she could belong. A beautiful desert city to get some foothold in. To live life like a normal person.
She just had to get through the night.
The cold was one thing, but what was much more worrying were the sudden gusts of wind, carrying a lot of sand. Even the skies looked more menacing. The strange haze she had seen or imagined before felt somehow … closer.
She stayed low, lying by the fire, but the blowing sand was starting to worry her. She knew she would have to sleep on the harsh sand, but getting buried in it was not the plan. Was it a sandstorm?
Minutes felt like hours. Darkness seeped over the desert, but she felt like that haze created a strange light. And then… it didn't.
She was confused for a moment when it all got dark. She could hear the howling of the wind, feel the sand hitting her skin, but there was no light.
And then she realized…
Her fire was out.
The wind began to blow almost menacingly and Aces sat up not to get buried in the sand. There was enough of it to bury her small fireplace already after all.
No. She couldn't get herself caught in this. It wasn't an overwhelmingly strong wind. She… needed to move a bit. Walk. Not to let it stick to her and fall too much on top of her.
Shivering, she got up from the ground. The wind was so cold. How did it get so cold? The further from the ground she was, the more she could feel it. But she was determined to do as she planned.
Walking felt even slower than in the heat. But she did. She walked.
She didn't know how long she walked, but at some point, she finally felt the winds ease. She was confident enough that she could get some rest at last.
But she had no fire. She could barely see anything in the darkness, let alone locate a plant like that again.
Fuck. What else could she do? She was so exhausted? She just needed to sleep.
…
So cold. She missed the heat.
She missed the worst fucking scorcher of her life. She missed her fire.
Did she make a mistake? Was her opportunity just a way for her to die here? Was she just fucking useless despite all the things she thought she knew, all the things she thought she could handle?
Maybe she was weak. Maybe she was insane like the other Rita's spawn. Maybe she didn't have it in her to be free and normal.
"Don't ever think that."
A painfully familiar voice startled her. As she lay there, curled on the freezing sand, she tried to open her eyes.
She wasn't just imagining him this time. Jack was here. A… little ghostly looking, but here. Though to be fair, somehow, she always imagined him ghostly looking ever since he died. It was weird. She had no idea why. But now she could actually see him. And hear him. Like he was really there.
Fuck, she was crazy.
"Aces, you can do this." He lay down in front of her, staring into her eyes with his odd glowy ones. "For both of us. You have an actual chance to be free. To be normal. Do you remember what that's like?"
"Being normal?" She scoffed through her chattering teeth. "When have I ever been…?" Normal. She probably didn't even know the meaning of that word.
"Didn't you feel like you were sometimes? When we were together, talking about stupid shit or playing dumb games. Do you still remember them?"
How could he even ask that?
"I remember everything about you," she felt her eyes prickle a bit. How could she even forget a second with him?
"Yeah? You remember when we played Trenches on the beach?" He chuckled.
Hah! She did. They played that a lot in the winter when they were at the Gold Coast. The sand wasn't that hot so they could dig into it with their hands easily. They made holes and then threw stuff at each other from within them, trying to hit one another. It was always so warm inside those holes…
Maybe he played that with her when it was winter to keep her warm again.
Maybe…
Wait!
Aces didn't hesitate. The image of Jack's ghostly visage was gone, but she didn't even feel disturbed by that at this point. She didn't care if she was crazy and seeing things. She only had half a waterskin of water and coconut milk today to drink in the heat, so it was probably normal to be hallucinating.
But it didn't matter. Right now she needed to overcome her tiredness and dig herself a hole.
For Jack.
For the both of them. Because at least one of them deserved freedom.
She would not let him down.
…
Scorching rays of sun woke her up.
It was unpleasant to say the least. She wasn't used to waking up like this. She remembered the horrible cold, but somehow, now she missed it again. She woke up in sweat-soaked clothes with sand clinging to every inch of her body.
But she woke up. That was the important thing.
She survived the night.
Aces was sure that she hallucinated Jack there last night, but she didn't really care. Whether his memory alone or not, he helped her like he always did. He protected her like he always did. He kept her warm like he always did.
That shallow hole saved her life. Nord or not, she was about to freeze. She was sure of that.
She tried to brush off the sand, but it was moot. All she could do now was just… get up and continue.
And as she did, she gazed over the clear bright skies that had eluded her for so long. And if only they hadn't, she may not have lost hope, not even for a moment.
In the distance, she saw something she really fucking hoped wasn't another hallucination.
A city. Its tall spires beckoning her over.
She was gonna make it.
She was gonna live free and normal.
For herself and for Jack.
Well… because of Jack. She had no illusions about that – he may have been long gone, but he was there with her, every step of the way. Everything he taught her, everything he had done for her, it still remained with her and it would never leave.
The book he read with her gave her this dream.
His knife made sure her tormentors would never find her when it ended the smuggler's life.
His advice gave her warmth and fire.
And the games they used to play saved her life.
She never used to care or wonder where Jack was now, in the afterlife. The important thing was that he was not here.
She would never forgive Torban for that. He didn't get nearly as much as he deserved for that.
But she could at least find some comfort in Jack's constant presence, even if it was not real.
What else did she have left? It had to be real enough for her.
And she would damn well do what he wanted her to do.
She would enjoy all the scorching days in Hammerfell in her new life.
Free and normal at last.