Chapter 8: Bleak Falls Barrow

"No you have to spin it–"

"I am–"

"--one more time–"

"I know–"

"--the butterfly has to be on top."

Marz took a deep breath before releasing it, and spun the last wheel of the ancient nordic lock praying to Malacath that it would open before he murdered his nordic companion. The sound of stone sliding against stone sounded throughout the small tunnel and dust fell from the door as it slid down to reveal a large cavern beyond.

"Move," Marz growled to his companion. Uthgerd drew her greatsword and started forward. He knew it was unbecoming to send his female companion to take the lead when he knew the odds of encountering an enemy were high, but he knew she would be silent if she were leading and right now that silence was worth almost as much as the amount Jarl Balgruuf had promised the orc for the delivery of the Dragonstone. Almost.

Despite the feeling that something dangerous was waiting for them somewhere in this room, Marz saw nothing when he scanned the room for enemies. Up ahead he saw a stone alcove with ancient nordic runes inscribed on it–just like the one back home on Bonestrewn Crest. He walked over to it, wondering what the significance of the runes could be. He reached out his hand to touch it and–

"Those Walls aren't for us." Uthgerd's voice was quiet and low for a change, but it echoed around the vast chamber nonetheless. "Only the Dragonborn can reap the benefits of reading those inscriptions."

Marz stared at the wall silently for a moment. "What does it mean?"

Uthgerd regarded him with a raised eyebrow before answering. "They are Shouts. The Dragonborn is able to read the inscription, and learn them almost instantly. If he or she has consumed enough dragon souls, they would be able to use it at will."

Marz touched the wall, marveling at this new information. He had heard of the way Ulfric Stormcloak had Shouted High King Torygg to death using only his voice. Surely anyone with this power would be able to conquer the world with ease, he thought. "Who is the Dragonborn?" He asked.

Uthgerd shrugged. "There hasn't been a Dragonborn in centuries as far as I know, but there have been rumors of a new Dragonborn lately. Some say it's a Redguard woman fleeing Alik'r assassins hired by the Dominion. Others say it's a mighty warrior nord warrior destined to help drive the Dominion out of Skyrim, and still others say that the new Dragonborn is a member of the Thieves Guild who shirks his duty to the realm so who can say really–"

Whatever else Uthgerd had to say about the matter was interrupted by a loud crack as the stone lid of the coffin near the wall slid open, and a Deathlord Draugr emerged.

"Draugr!" Uthgerd yelled. The draugr Shouted, and Marz was blasted off of his feet. Uthgerd was able to dodge the Shout, and began attacking the undead warrior with her greatsword. She slashed again and again, but if her attacks were affecting the draugr at all, it didn't show. Marz rose to his feet, and grabbed a torch from the wall. He threw it at the draugr who was aflame almost immediately.

Now he could see the corpse wearing down. Its attacks became slower, until finally, he sent an arrow through its head and the whole thing collapsed. The duo sheathed their weapons, and approached the stone coffin. There were several jewels, an odd looking white-silver stone, and a coin purse of gold. Marz removed them all, and then–

"A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON–"

*

"It's not too late you know, you can still change your mind about joining the Companions."

Marz didn't even look up from his meal. It was already dark by the time he and Uthgerd had made it out of the Barrow, so he and Uthgerd were now camped for the night. "I have no reason to change my mind." Marz said simply. After he had returned to Dragonsreach to collect his gold, Jarl Balgruuf had offered to double the orc's reward if he retrieved a dragonstone for the jarl's court wizard, Farengar. A task he would now be able to collect the reward for in the morning.

Though the orsimer did not see it, across the fire Uthgerd made a face. "The Companions are not as tough as everyone believes them to be! It's a waste of time for you to go there, and they will not permit me within their hall so I will not be able to fulfill my oath to you if you seek them out–chief." The nord added the last word reluctantly, as if she were still getting used to using it.

Following their brawl, Uthgerd had sought out Marz to pay her debt. Marz had explained to the nord what her debt entailed, and had given her one last chance to renege, but the woman was too proud to do so. Worse still, she had also asked to accompany Marz on his journey in order to learn from him so that she might become stronger. With no other options, the orc had reluctantly accepted Uthgerd as his thrall-wife, not dissimilar to a housecarl's role to a thane or jarl. In this case, Uthgerd had accepted Marz as her chief, as would have been done among an orsimer stronghold.

A non-orc thrall-wife was fairly unusual among Marz' kind, but then again, so was being challenged by non-orsimer women. The orc finally looked up from his meal to eye Uthgerd. "What quarrel do you have with the Companions? They refuse to brawl with a strong nord woman?" His last words had been meant to rile the truth out of the headstrong brawler. Ever since he had voiced his intention to join the Companions, the nord had been inexplicably, vocally opposed to the idea.

On the other side of the fire, Marz' words had had the intended effect. Uthgerd tossed her empty wooden bowl into the dirt, and glared at the orc. "As a matter of fact, they did agree to brawl." She looked away into the fire. "They just couldn't live with the consequences of it." She said quietly.

Marz' interest was now piqued. "They couldn't live with the consequences or you couldn't?" He grunted. For several long minutes the only sounds the orc could hear were the sounds of owls hooting in the forest, and the loud crackles of wood breaking in the fire. Marz had almost given up on getting a response when he heard a quiet sob from where Uthgerd sat. The orc froze. He didn't know what response he had been expecting, but crying wasn't it. Thankfully, before he could muster the courage to say anything, Uthgerd started speaking again.

"I wanted to join the Companions too," she began. "I spoke to Farkas about it, but he wasn't impressed so I challenged him to a brawl. I just wanted to show them that I had what it took to join. Farkas refused my challenge, said it was 'beneath' him. One of the other Companions volunteered, and I accepted." Uthgerd sniffled. "I thought he was a member of the Companions! I thought he was one of Whiterun's greatest champions so I gave it my all! I didn't realize he was just a whelp!" The nord was sobbing freely now. "I didn't mean to kill the kid, I swear. I thought he was a full member and could take it." Uthgerd stared into the fire, remembering the worst day of her life. "The worst part wasn't when they banished me from the halls of Jorrvaskr, or when they told me that I would never be a Companion. The worst part is…I see that kid's face every night when I try to sleep."

Uthgerd bowed her head and sobbed quietly. Marz took a deep breath and sighed from his seat, missing the simple life he had left behind when he agreed to escort Legate Rikke to Whiterun. The orc stood, and walked over to where Uthgerd sat. Why did Malacath set me on this path? He thought. He placed a hand on the nord's shoulder and said, "What is done cannot be undone. All we can do is honor the dead, and live each day better than the last." He handed Uthgerd a bottle of Alto wine from their travel bags. "Drink," he grunted. "It shall soothe your aching heart." Uthgerd looked up at her chief with watery eyes. He saw something there, but he didn't know what. He was no good with the emotional concerns of the fairer sex. Uthgerd took the bottle and drank.

*

"--and then I said,' I'm not happy to see you Proventus, that's an arrow in my leg!'"

Uthgerd roared with laughter next to the orc. They were on the second to last bottle of wine they carried, but Marz wasn't concerned, they could buy more once they were back in Whiterun to collect their gold.

"I never would have thought a warrior as fearsome as you could be such a storyteller! I believe you've missed your calling as a bard, Marzuum." Uthgerd laughed again. Marz felt a slight shiver at the sound of his name. He had noticed that the nord had moved ever so closer to him as the night went on, but he assumed that was a result of poor balance due to the wine. Before he could ponder further though, Uthgerd voiced her own thoughts. "You never told me why you were so intent on joining the Companions, Chief."

Marz hesitated. He was reluctant to revisit the topic that had made the woman so emotional before when he had only just successfully distracted her from it. He took another drink and then said, "I care nothing for the Companions. My interests lie in the one called Aela the Huntress. I must win her as my huntswife." The effect was instantaneous. Uthgerd drew away from the orc, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "You love her then?" Marz shook his head, and explained to Uthgerd the ways of the Orsimer. He told her of how he was tasked by Malacath to create the strongest Orc stronghold Skyrim had ever seen. He told her of how only the chief was permitted to marry and produce offspring, and how he was permitted four wives; a huntswife, forgewife, hearthwife, and shieldwife, to help ensure the survival of the stronghold.

"Such is the way of my people," he said simply. "Only the strong survive in this world, and if my people are to have a future, I must build the most powerful stronghold Skyrim has ever seen." Uthgerd regarded him silently for a moment. "Have I no use to you then? What purpose does my position as thrall-wife serve?"

Marz looked at her with stern eyes. "Your role as thrall-wife is one of your own making," he said. "Though we are not married in the eyes of Malacath, it is still uncommon, even more so between my kind and yours. Had a male orsimer challenged me in the way you did, I would have claimed his life, or all of his earthly possessions if I saw fit to spare him. Had it been a female orsimer whose life I spared, she would be bound to be as you are now, to carry my burdens until such a time that she repaid that debt of blood either by saving my life or by giving new life to my bloodline."

Marz drained the last of the wine from the bottle, and tossed it into the snow. He could have sworn that Uthgerd's face was flushed, but it could also have been the glow of the fire on her face. "It is a wonder, your kind do not yet rule all of Tamriel with such strict practices," The nord said. Marz blinked sleep from his eyes. The wine had exacted its toll on him. "That is a conversation for another day," he stood up, "For now, I am for my tent and much needed sleep."

Uthgerd stood, and her eyes followed him. "I shall bring the last bottle to your tent so that we can toast to your future stronghold, Chief." Marz grunted in response. He relieved himself in the snow behind his tent, and then fell gratefully onto his sleep roll.

A few moments later Uthgerd entered behind him, with two tankards. Marz sat up as the nord filled them both to the brim. "May your stronghold last for generations," she said. Marz grunted and tapped his mug to hers before downing its contents, spilling some sloppily down his front. He laid back down. "Allow me to clean that wine before you awake to a tent full of drunk flies," Uthgerd said. Marz didn't respond, he was already on the verge of sleep until– he felt Uthgerd straddle his waist, and her hair tickled his torso. Marz opened his eyes in confusion.

Uthgerd looked him in the eyes and slowly licked the wine from his chest, until it was gone. The orc froze, conflicted between the different needs of his body and mind. Uthgerd leaned closer to his face, and licked his tusk. "Allow me to carry this–burden for you tonight Chief." She sat up and removed her tunic, revealing a pair of large and heavy breasts. Marz felt himself stirring beneath his fur kilt. Uthgerd smiled from her mount.

She kissed him from his tusk all the way down his abdomen. "I haven't been with a man in some time," she purred. "I swore I would not until I met one strong enough to best me in combat." She made to move lower, but Marz grabbed her arm roughly.

"I am no man," he growled. "I am an orc."

Uthgerd smiled and kissed him again. "Even better," she whispered. That was all Marz needed to hear. He felt harder than his Dragonbone axe. Uthgerd moved lower and freed Marz from the constraints of his loincloth. "Oh my–" she started. "I may need to–yes hold on–". Before Marz could ask what she meant, he felt her mouth around him. He felt her tongue on the tip before she slid it up and down his shaft. The orc groaned in pleasure, and the sound seemed to embolden the nord even further.

For several long minutes he lay there, enjoying the labor of lips and tongue, until with one last wet kiss, Uthgerd's face once more became visible. "Okay," she said breathlessly. "If that doesn't help–" she trailed off. She stood over the orc before lowering herself to straddle his waist again. She placed his tip against her lips, and carefully lowered herself onto it. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped at the sensation. She stopped for the briefest of moments and Marz wondered if she was hurt, but before he could asked she lowered herself further. Her face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure the lower she went until finally, the nord sat on him breathing heavily from her efforts.

After a brief respite, she began moving her hips. Marz grasped her waist and moved along to her body's rhythm. A soft moan escaped her lips and she moved faster. Marz reached up with his hands and explored the curves of her breasts before he lost track of time. Soon, he was lost in the heat and rhythm of their bodies until after what could have been minutes or hours, he felt himself explode inside her. The nord's eyes grew wide, and her face red. A small vein appeared in her forehead, and Marz thought she might be angry until with a loud scream, he felt her tighten around him and climax as well. She leaned forward, and kissed his forward, and her breasts swung towards his face and he kissed them both. She collapsed on him laughing softly, and before either of them could do anything else, both were asleep in the arms of the other.