Disclaimer: The following story is centered around my own character, Mhari Freysri, who is the only character in this piece that I own. All other characters and elements of the world within the Elder Scrolls series is the intellectual property of Bethesda. This story contains, not just massive spoilers, but is in and of itself one very long spoiler, as it is based off of my playthrough of Skyrim: Special Edition. You have been advised. Please enjoy this newest installment of my cringy fanfiction.
Music: 'The Sixth Station' - Joe Hisaishi (from the 'Spirited Away' soundtrack)
It had been a calm day for Mhari. Grey clouds loomed over the city of Solitude, threatening a rainstorm that had yet to come, and a brisk wind had blown in from the east. She had spent the greater part of her morning curled up in her room at The Winking Skeever, fashioning her leathers and wolf pelts into a hide armour set at candlelight. She reinforced her fur-lined boots and thick gloves with leather lining to help keep the frostbite at bay. Mhari used a piece of the wood scrap that had been leftover from her shield, and fashioned two small beads with an Imperial war horn carved onto the face in memory of Fura. I'd like to stop by the Temple of the Divines; offer up a prayer for Fura... I can take the beads to Angeline and Vivienne once I've enchanted them.
As she sat cross-legged on the foot of her bed, she glanced over to the candle on the bedside table, noticing it had burned nearly half-way down to the holder.
"Ah," she sighed aloud. "I've been at this longer than I thought; only a few hours of sunlight left..."
Mhari set her new armour neatly in the trunk at the foot of the bed and rose to her feet, fastening her cloak over her shoulders with a yawn and a sigh.
As she stepped out into the streets of Solitude, the rainclouds had mostly dispersed; Mhari made her way up the stone stairway to the upper levels of the city, passing by the guard's training yard. Half a dozen soldiers were paired up, practicing their form with their swords and shields.
Captain Aldis stepped among them, carefully eyeing their form when he noticed Mhari as she passed. He gave her a subtle smile and a curt nod, which she returned with a small wave. He still seems out of sorts, but I suppose that's to be expected. Mhari came to a small courtyard where two royal thrones sat side-by-side in front of five rows of pews. Beyond the pews were a set of massive, silver double doors leading into the Temple of the Divines. Mhari removed her cloak and stepped inside.
Music: 'Kyne's Peace' - Jeremy Soule (from the 'Skyrim' soundtrack)
"Blessings of the Eight Divines upon you," a soft woman's voice greeted Mhari from within the temple. She was tall, lovely, and had some of the kindest eyes Mhari had ever seen, putting her instantly at ease. She donned the soft gold and yellow robes of the priests and priestesses of Skyrim, and they almost seemed to make her glow. "I am Freir, the priestess of this temple. How may I help?"
"Oh, hello," Mhari hadn't been expecting a priestess to approach her so quickly. "I'm here to pray to the shrines."
"Of course, my dear. This way," Freir's smile was warm and genuine as she lead Mhari beyond the pews and great stone pillars to the central room of the temple, shimmering in hues of gold and violet from the well-kept stain glass windows above. There were nine alcoves, each holding a shrine for a different god; Dibella, Julianos, Akatosh, Mara, Stendarr, Arkay, Zenithar, and her personal favourite, Kynareth. However, she noticed one of the alcoves was empty; a bare pedestal stood where a shrine had clearly been up until recently.
"My apologies, priestess," Mhari began, her eyes settled on the empty alcove. "But I can't help but notice one of your alcoves is empty; you mentioned eight divines earlier, but there are clearly meant to be nine, aren't there?"
"That once held the shrine to Talos, but the worship of Talos was banned by the White-Gold Concordat some time ago," the priestess explained. She noticed Mhari's blank look of confusion and chuckled. "That's the peace treaty that ended the war with the elves of the Aldmeri Dominion."
"The peace treaty banned the worship of one of Skyrim's gods?" Mhari frowned. "I'd imagine that would cause more problems than it would solve, wouldn't it?"
"The Dominion recognized the heresy of proclaiming Talos a god. Talos was a great man, and a great emperor; but that does not make him a god," Freir paused for a moment, her expression darkening ever so slightly. "No matter how much the Stormcloaks may wish it were so."
"I see," Mhari nodded in understanding, but she was still conflicted on the concept. "I have much to learn about the history of this land. Thank you for your help, priestess."
Mhari approached the shrine of Kynareth and held Fura's beads in her hands; she whispered a prayer into her palms as the carvings etched into the wood began to glow with a soft teal light.
"Kynareth, Kyne, Kin, Khenarthi, Tava;
O' Mother of the Heavens, O' Mother of the Winds
Please bless these beads in the name of Fura Morrard,
Fallen soldier of Solitude, and beloved daughter,
So that she may yet protect and watch over her loved ones,
Who still remain in this realm."
As the echo of her voice faded, as did the glow; but the beads still tingled with the spark of Mhari's magic, a small enchantment now cast within the wood. I wish I could give it a stronger casting, but I just don't have the skill. Maybe someday I can find a mage to show me a thing or two about working with magic.
Mhari tucked the beads away and started to make her way out of the building when she noticed an elderly man sulking in one of the pews.
"Take my advice," he sighed when he realized Mhari had been looking at him. "Never gamble."
"Well, I suppose that is good advice..." Mhari replied, taking a seat next to him in the pew. "I take it you've gotten yourself into some debt trouble, then?"
"Damn Irnskar has me in debt up to the eyes." The man's eyes lifted to look at the shrines, his expression grim. "Too many drinking games. Too many bets. And I'm too old to ever raise the coin on my own."
Mhari frowned; he did look well into his years. He had clearly been a seasoned warrior at some point, but now he appeared frail enough to break. "Maybe I could talk to Irnskar. I'm sure he can be reasoned with."
"He's a stubborn oaf," the man sighed. "I don't know what good it'll do."
"Hey, the worst thing that happens is he tells me to go jump in a river," Mhari joked. "What is your name? It wouldn't surprise me in the slightest to find out you're not the only one indebted to this fellow. I want to avoid any possible misunderstandings."
"Octieve," he replied. "Octieve San."
"I'll let you know if I have any luck with Irnskar," Mhari stood from her seat and straightened herself out before making her way out to the courtyard of Solitude.
Music: 'Science and Magic' - Patrick Doyle (from the 'Thor' soundtrack)
Mhari slowly made her way through the streets of Solitude on her way to Angeline's Aromatics. As she passed by the marketplace, a small body thumped into her from around a stall, tumbling back onto the ground. Mhari looked down to see the little girl she had seen when she'd first arrived in Solitude; Svari. Two children bolted past her shouting over their shoulder. "Come on, Svari! You're it!"
Svari pulled herself back to her feet with a pout. "Sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean to."
"Oh, don't worry about that," Mhari shrugged with a smile. "Are you okay?"
"I..." Svari's eyes moved to her toes, saddening at Mhari's words. "I don't wanna talk."
Mhari frowned and put a hand on Svari's shoulder as she started crying; she let her sob for a few minutes before leading her to Bits and Pieces to buy each of them a honey nut treat. They found a bench in the marketplace to sit and talk. Svari had stopped crying, but she was still sniffling and rubbing her eyes with her hands as she stared at her toes.
"Look," Mhari began. "I'm sorry about your uncle."
"Thanks," Svari sniffled, nibbling on her honey nut treat. She paused for moment before continuing. "Papa talks about it some. Mom doesn't say much since uncle Roggvir died. She doesn't even go to temple anymore."
"Do you think she should be?"
Svari nodded. "I wish she would. At least that way, she'd have someone to talk to."
"Perhaps I could convince her," Mhari suggested. "If nothing else, I can at least be someone she can talk to. Nobody should have to bear the weight of losing a loved one alone."
"You would do that?!" Svari's eyes lit up. She wasted no time, and grabbed Mhari's wrist, running past the marketplace, leading Mhari to a small, neat home near the Bard's College. "This is my house; mama should be inside. Let's go!"
The home was warm and cozy, but Mhari could feel an air of sadness and grief. Svari's mother, Greta sat at a chair by the dining table, staring at the floor with a cloudy expression not unlike the one Svari had when she first bunped into Mhari. Greya didn't even seem to notice that Mhari and Svari had walked through the door. Mhari cleared her throat quietly, causing Greta to look up slowly. Her eyes regarded Mhari for a moment before moving over to Svari, who stood behind Mhari, peeking out from her hip.
"Miss Greta," Mhari began. "Svari and I were talking about... well, everything that's been happening lately. She'd mentioned you were going through some tough times; we thought perhaps you could use someone to talk to."
"Oh, really?" Greta let out an embarassed sigh of frustration as she eyed Svari, who tucked her hands behind her back and looked down sheepishly. "She's going to get a sit-down later."
"Please don't be angry with her." Mhari frowned as Svari tucked farther behind her. "She just wants to support you. You may hide your grief well, but your daughter seems to know you well enough to realize when you're simply trying to be strong for her sake."
"I don't see how speaking to a stranger will help; but it may be better than nothing." Greta sighed, her expression softening slightly, but her brow still furrowed in discomfort. "Take a walk with me, will you? Svari, go play with your friends."
As Svari ran off to join her friends, Mhari and Greta began making their way back to the town square. They were silent at first. Mhari decided it would be best to allow Greta to speak when she was ready.
"Do you think his death was justified?" Greta asked, finally, her voice quiet.
"I didn't know your brother," Mhari replied. "I've heard others talk about what happened, but I would like to get your take on the story."
"He opened a gate and they executed him for it... he opened a gate and the wrong man rode out of it. If that man hadn't been Ulfric Stormcloak. If Ulfric hadn't killed High King Torygg..." Greta's face began to redden with anger as she spoke, still trying to keep her voice low so as to not draw attention. Mhari could tell she was fighting tears as she paused. "...but it was Ulfric. And he did kill the king in honourable combat. My brother refused to allow the Imperials to take revenge for the deed. So now he's dead."
Mhari looked to the sky in thought for a moment. I thought there would be more to this whole mess than what I was hearing. Other folks who I've spoken to made it sound like this Ulfric fellow just slaughtered the High King in his sleep. But it sounds like it was a battle of tradition gone horribly wrong. "It sounds to me like Roggvir did what he thought was right, then," Mhari said finally.
"Then, like Roggvir, you have a Nord's heart. It's hard for many of the people here to understand," Greta sighed, almost in relief; as though she had been ready to be berated for refusing to refer to her brother as a traitor as most others had. "I think Aldis understands. I don't think I could have stayed here if anyone else had..."
Greta trailed off as she realized where they were. As Mhari and Greta rounded the corner to the square, they could clearly see that Roggvir's body had yet to be moved from the ground by the executioner's block. Greta froze in her place, holding back tears. Mhari placed a hand gently on her shoulder, standing in front of her to block the view of Roggvir's body. "Greta, we don't have to be here. We could go to the temple instead. Svari mentioned that you haven't been for some time."
"I want to go back, but I won't feel right in there without a tie to Talos," Greta blinked away tears as they welled up in her eyes.
"The empty alcove," Mhari nodded in understanding.
"My brother wore an amulet of Talos at all times; he kept it with him no matter where he went. If I had that..." Greta's eyes moved behind Mhari to his body before she clenched them shut again. "Oh, Gods. I can't go near his body..."
"Wait here, Greta. Let me bring it to you." Greta simple nodded in response, but could not bring herself to speak further.
As Mhari approached Roggvir's headless body, she noticed his hand had been clasping his amulet at the moment of his death. When the acrid scent of decay hit her nose, she found the need to hold her breath as she drew closer. I can't believe haven't taken him to the Hall of Arkay, yet...She carefully pried his fingers open and retrieved the amulet, saying a silent prayer under her breath to Arkay before returning to Greta, who had chosen to wait just around the corner out of sight from the executioner's block.
"Here, Greta." Mhari held out the amulet as Greta took it with shaking fingers. "You may want to clean it up a bit, but at least now you have your connection to Talos."
"Thank you so much." Greta took the amulet, moving her hands over the pendant before holding it close to her chest. She took a deep breath, allowing herself a moment to collect herself. "It'll be good to return to temple. I'm glad Svari convinced you to talk to me."
"I'm happy to help. Thank you for telling me your side of the story; and Roggvir's."
"Here." Greta reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pouch of coins. "It's not much, but it's the least I can do."
"If you're sure." Mhari took the pouch and slipped it into her own pack with a thankful smile. "Did you want me to walk with you for a while longer?"
"No, that's alright. I should go make sure Svari's okay." Greta tucked the amulet into her pocket, keeping her hand on the pendant as she spoke. "Then I think I need some time alone to think."
Mhari nodded. Without another word, Greta started to slowly make her way to the temple. As Svari bolted past Mhari alongside her friends, she yelled a jovial 'thank you!' over her shoulder.
Music: 'Kingdom Dance' - Alan Menken (from the 'Tangled' soundtrack)
By the time Mhari had returned to The Winking Skeever, the dinner rush was in full-swing; Lisette and Jorn played their lute and drum for their rowdy patrons while Corpulus and Sorex buzzed from table to table with rounds of drinks. Mhari greeted Corpulus with a smile and motioned for him to come speak with her when he had a moment.
"What can I do for you, miss Mhari?" he said finally as he approached her at the bar, handing her a mug of ale.
"Would you be able to point me into the direction of a man named Irnskar?" Mhari asked as her eyes moved amongst the patrons throughout the inn. "If he's even here tonight."
"Ah, yes. He's right over there." Corpulus motioned his free hand to a chair by the fire where an older man with a grouchy expression dined on a plate of venison alone, seemingly impervious to the jovial atmosphere around him. "Mind yourself - he's about as pleasant to talk to as he looks."
"Thank you, Corpulus." Mhari popped a coin into his hand. "I'll let you get back to it."
Mhari approached the large, old Nord as he took a large gulp of mead from his hammered copper mug, paying no mind to the fact that most of it simply dribbled down the long, coarse hairs of his white beard. As he noticed Mhari drawing closer, he sighed in irritation, placing his mug back on the table, looking into the fire with a scowl. "Unless we have specific business, I'm not interested."
Mhari could tell he was trying to intimidate her into leaving him be; for a moment it almost worked as she stopped walking for a moment. No, Mhari. Hold your ground. She furrowed her brow and made direct eye contact with Irnskar, grabbing a nearby chair and sliding it over to sat in front of him, challenging his glowering stare with one of her own. "I'm here to ask that you forgive Octieve's debts."
"Debts are debts," Irnskar scoffed, almost amused at Mhari's audacity; he raised his voice and made eye contact with Octieve, who sat at a table across the room with a young, brown-haired woman who pursed her lips at Irnskar's posturing. "Either he pays them, or his kind do!"
"He's an old man, Irnskar," Mhari sighed with a shake of her head. "Just let it go, already."
"You sound like a priest of Mara," Irnskar grumbled, rolling his eyes incredulously. Mhari raised an eyebrow, and maintained her eye contact with the Nord, who tried to ignore her for a moment before letting out a growl. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
"What can I say?" Mhari shrugged. "What I lack in physical strength, I make up for in persistence."
"I'll tell you what; buy me an ale and leave me the hell alone. You can tell Octieve I'll forget about his debt," Irnskar said reluctantly. Mhari smiled triumphantly and raised her arm to wave Corpulus over. "This time."
Once Corpulus dropped off the mug of ale, Mhari walked over to Octieve's table and took a seat. "Good news; Irnskar's agreed to forgive your debt."
Octieve sighed in relief as the young woman that had he been sitting with nodded with silent approval. "Thank you, miss. You've done a fine thing for me."
"Just don't let it happen again," the woman said folding her arms as she spoke to Octieve. "I don't think he'll forgive your debt a second time."
"Yes, yes, Evette." Octieve waved his hand flippantly at the woman. Evette rolled her eyes with a incredulous chuckle before leaving coins on the table to pay her tab. As she walked out of the inn, Octieve looked into his mug happily. "My daughter. She's always been the brains of the family; and now that my working days are over, she keeps me fed."
"What kind of work did you do before you decided to settle down?" Mhari asked, relaxing into her chair with another drink. "Farmer? Sailor? Soldier?"
"Soldier; used to be in the heavy division," Octieve replied. "Maybe you wouldn't know it to look at me now; but if I have a greatsword in my hands, I'm a force to be reckoned with."
Octieve told Mhari some stories about his days as a soldier as they shared a few more drinks.
""Little bird!" As Mhari finished off the last sip of her ale, she heard Lisette call to her from over the din. "Come join us for a song or two!"
"With pleasure," Mhari chuckled, nodding to Octieve with a smile. She began making her way to the empty room beyond the dining area, shouting back to Lisette. "Keep the party going while I change, will you?"
By the time Mhari had emerged from the room, she giggled as she watched Lisette and Jorn who had lead the entire inn into a singalong of Ragnar the Red. As Lisette noticed Mhari walking into the light, she skipped over to her and linked her arms with hers, gaily dancing amongst the tables for the final verse as the patrons stomped and pounded their fists and ale mugs on the tables in time to the beat of Jorn's drum. As the song concluded, the inn erupted into laughter, cheers, and the clinking of ale mugs.
Jorn, Lisette and Mhari entertained the inn's patrons late into the night, enjoying many a drink before they finally crashed in their rooms until morning. Mhari's dreams were filled with song and dance, but she did not want to think about the hangover to come.
~To Be Continued...~
Note From the Author: Thank you again for reading the latest chapter of Songstress of Skyrim! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider following this story and dropping a comment. I'd love to hear what my readers think; what their favourite parts were, what they'd like to see more of, etc. I hope to see you in the next chapter, dear reader.
~Voth Werid
