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: 'Ancient Stones' - Jeremy Soule
Mhari stretched her hands to the sky with a strain and a yawn, her muscles still reverberating with the dull ache of a week of farm-work that she was no longer accustomed to. Standing just beyond the entrance of The Winking Skeever, Mhari breathed deep the crisp morning air of Solitude as white tufts of clouds like brush strokes on a canvas wisped among a backdrop of crystalline blue. A light breeze rolled through the streets of the city, kissing the bold red flags of Haafingar, lifting them into a gentle wave. She made her way into Radiant Raiment, surprised to see the shop bustling like she hadn't seen before. Endarie served a lineup of customers, counting through pouches of gold while Taarie fetched and folded each purchase swiftly, passing them to each client to dismiss them. Taarie's eyes looked up and met Mhari's, her eyebrows rising with happy recognition; she raised a hand with her finger in the air to motion for Mhari to wait for a moment. Mhari nodded in understanding and took a seat at a chair and small side table to wait for the commotion to lessen. A few minutes later, the crowd had dispersed enough for Endarie to take over both roles. Taarie shuffled over to Mhari as she once again rose to her feet.
"Thank you for waiting," Taarie's voice was still haughty, but it now bore a respectful tone that was clearly missing when Mhari had first met her weeks ago. "I have to tell you, ever since you visited the Blue Palace, we have yet to see a slow day. You've truly done us a service."
"I'm glad to hear it!" Mhari smiled brightly as she continued to watch the commotion around her. "Thank you for allowing me to keep the dress. I don't think I've ever had something so ornate in my wardrobe before."
"Well, that is a shame, but those days are over, friend." Taarie pulled out a tape measure from the pocket of her robes. "Come. Just one dress is surely not enough of a thanks. I'd like to make something special for you. As a representative of our brand, we can't have you out in the streets of Solitude wearing farmer's rags."
Mhari cleared her throat, hiding a twinge of irritation. These rags are traditional garb in my family line... Before she could say anything, Taarie had helped her onto a stool in front of a full-body mirror, and was taking her measurements, hurriedly bustling around Mhari as she worked, scribbling notes on a piece of parchment tacked to the side of the mirror. "Bizarre. You're awfully small for a Nord."
"Oh, I'm only part-Nord," Mhari explained. "My father is a Breton; my mother was a Nord."
"Makes for some awkward measurements, let me tell you." Taarie wrapped the tape measure around Mhari's waist, continuing to scribble down numbers on her page. "Oh, did you come here for a specific reason today?"
"I did, yes." Mhari lifted her arms out to her sides at Taarie's instruction so that Taarie could measure her armspan. "I wanted to see if you had some fabric to spare. I wanted to fashion a new saddle rug for my horse."
"Done. Once I'm done here, I can take you to our selection. " Taarie responded without hesitation. "Anything you buy from us from this point forward will be at a reduced price."
"That's so kind; thank you!" Mhari beamed. Taarie finished the last of her measurements and brought her to the fabric room, allowing Mhari to sift through their selections She settled on a ruby-red fabric with gold and white trimming. As she reached to hand the high elf a handful of gold, she refused it.
"This fabric is free of charge today." Taarie held up her palm. "Now, I best return to my sister and help her with the next rush. I will contact you once your new dress is ready."
Mhari was quickly shooed out of the room as Taarie returned to her post by Endarie, the next wave of customer's filing into the shop, swarming the counter once more. As Mhari approached the door of the shop, she heard her name called from behind her. She turned to see Angeline and Vivienne emerging from the crowd.
"Angeline! Vivienne! It's good to see you," Mhari greeted them with a friendly smile. "What are you up to?"
"We're glad we ran into you," Vivienne returned her smile, showing Mhari the bead she had carved for Fura. "We were just about to visit Fura's grave and drop off this lovely tribute for her."
"We'd love for you to join us," Angeline added. Mhari smiled, her heart swelling with sentimental pride as she noticed Angeline wore her bead on a string around her neck, with Vivienne sporting it on a string around her wrist.
"I'd be honoured." Mhari motioned for the door. "Please, lead the way."
Mhari followed Vivienne and Angeline to the cemetery near the Bard's College. A moderately-sized, yet by Solitude's lavish standards, still humble building of stone towered over the sloped grasses of the graveyard, each headstone meticulously cared for, fresh flowers and tributes at the bases of nearly each stone. An elderly man with a long white beard, in robes of copper and golden hues moved from gravesite to gravesite, praying to each as he held a beaded wooden necklace looped between his fingers, from it dangling a beautifully-carved wooden amulet of a star with eight points and a large, spherical blood-red gemstone in the center; the symbol of the God of Birth and Death - Arkay. Mhari could only assume this man to be Solitude's priest of Arkay. When he noticed the three women approaching, he slowly rose to his feet from his kneeled position and moved aside to give them privacy so that they could pay their respects.
As Vivienne and Angeline sat on their knees in front of Fura's headstone, saying their peace as Mhari sat beside them in silence, carefully weaving a long string of tall grass and lavender into a neat braid, carefully sliding Fura's wooden bead upon it and tying a knot so that it would not come loose. As Angeline and Vivienne finished their words, they looked to Mhari, asking if there was anything she would like to say.
"Miss Fura Morrard. We never had the pleasure of meeting, but through the words of love of respect from the family you've left behind, I have no doubt whatsoever that we would have easily become friends," Mhari began, gently placing the long string over the top of the gravestone so that the bead dangled just above Fura's etched name. "Your actions truly speak volumes of your courage, and I'm certain this hold has lost not only a dedicated citizen of Solitude, but a courageous hero as well. You laid your life down for your family and your people, and your sacrifice will not soon be forgotten. Know that your memory will be cherished - always."
The three beads began to glow with the soft blue hue of Mhari's magic as the three women bowed their heads with tearful eyes, allowing a moment of silence in closing. As the light of the beads faded, a sky blue butterfly landed on the grave, lingering for a moment before fluttering off into the sky. Mhari, Vivienne and Angeline watched it go and smiled in silence, an increased sense of peace falling over the cemetery. They said their final goodbyes and parted ways, Mhari deciding to stay behind for a moment.
"It seems you played an instrumental role on bringing about peace to that family." An soft and elderly voice snapped Mhari out of her silent reverie. She turned her head from where she stood in front of Fura's headstone to see the Priest of Arkay. "May Arkay bless you with a long life, a proud death, and a restful grave."
'Thank you, sir," Mhari replied, bowing her head in respect. The priest nodded back, informing her that she may address him as Styrr. "Is the man who was executed buried here, by any chance? I'd like to pay my respects."
"You mean Roggvir." Styrr nodded in understanding. "Yes, I made an appeal to Captain Aldis. He allowed Roggvir to have a proper Nord burial, as is the custom in Solitude."
"Ah, good then. I'm glad they at least allowed him that. Then again, I think if anybody would have understood, I suppose it would be Captain Aldis." Mhari followed Styrr through the halls of the building overlooking the cemetery, and into the catacombs of Solitude. "How long have you tended the Hall of the Dead?"
"All my life. I practically grew up in it. My father and mother were the priest and priestess of Arkay before me, you see." Styrr motioned to a Shrine of Arkay in the catacombs where two small glass vases of dust, each with an Amulet of Arkay lay on either side of the idol. Mhari could only assume this to be the ashes of Styrr's parents. His eyes took on a troubled expression as the conversation lulled. "I believe I was put here to protect this place from the darkness that pervades Solitude."
"What do you mean by that?" Mhari asked.
"This city has a long history of madness and murder. The Wolf Queen...Pelagius...the death of High King Torygg, and now..." Styrr frowned and shook in head, his eyes moving to the ground as he spoke. "Public executions."
Mhari looked up to realize they had arrived at Roggvir's coffin. She said a silent prayer as Styrr waited nearby.
"It's hard to believe sometimes," Mhari spoke softly, her own expression turning grim. "This city seems so beautiful and lively."
"My books tell the stories. Have no doubt - as pretty as the streets are, and as jovial as the bards may be..." Styrr paused once more at the Shrine of Arkay, lowering his head in a silent prayer of his own before lifting his gaze once more. "Darkness is drawn to Solitude."
Mhari offered a prayer to the Shrine of Arkay as well before bidding farewell to Styrr, thanking him for leading her to Roggvir's grave. Deep in thought, she went about the remainder of her day in thoughtful contemplation, buying what supplies she could for the journey ahead.
*Music: 'I Riden Så (Ye Ride So Carefully)' - Gjallarhorn
That night at The Winking Skeever, Mhari stood by Lisette and Jorn in the center of the main room, each of them with a stringed instrument. They had been practicing a new piece for the past week or so and had decided to perform it at last. The patrons swayed back and forth to the tempo as their voices harmonized beautifully, soaring into the wooden rafters of the inn. The bards managed to yield a decent amount of gold for their performance that night, taking a seat nearby to rest for the remainder of the evening.
"So you're headed to Dead Man's Respite, eh?" Jorn brought three mugs of ale and took a seat by Mhari and Lisette. "You realize you're likely to run into trouble on the way, don't you? Those crypts are never truly empty."
"Are you volunteering?" Mhari joked, raising an eyebrow as she lifted her mug to her lips.
"Love to, but I've got prior commitments, you know," Jorn chuckled, wrapping an arm around Lisette, who gave him a playful punch in the ribs that still left him slightly winded. "I ought to stay back and ensure this delicate flower here is safe and sound."
"I'm sure. Lisette strikes me as the kind of woman that needs protection," Mhari teased, the bards laughing at the absurdity of the notion. "All jokes aside, I know I should bring along some help, but the Burning of King Olaf Festival is fast approaching, and I only have so much time before I've missed the opportunity to find the verse in time. I've already spent so much time with the preparations for the journey alone."
"Look, don't get yourself killed for it, Little Bird," Lisette frowned, a worried expression painted on her face as she spoke. "If you don't find the verse, Viarmo'll find a different task for you."
After they'd had their fill of meat and ale, the bards readied themselves to turn in for the night. As Mhari stood from her seat and left some gold on the tabletop, a voice spoke from nearby.
"By blade or by spell, if you want it dead, I'll make it dead." Mhari turned to see a tall, older Nord with his white hair tied back in a knot. Age creased the lines of his face, but Mhari could tell from the way he carried himself that he was a seasoned warrior in his own right. "All you have to do is pay my fee."
"Ah, so you overheard my little conversation, did you?" Mhari yawned, her eyelids heavy. "What is your fee, then?"
"500 gold pieces."
"Ah, that is steeper than I have the gold for..." Mhari frowned. "Perhaps I can make an alternate offer?"
"I'm listening..." the Nord folded his arms hesitantly.
"If you are willing to accompany me to Dead Man's Respite and back, I will be more than happy to split any treasures we find evenly." Mhari watched as the Nord carefully considered Mhari's offer. "Surely a place as ancient as that will have something worth the journey alone."
"You drive a hard bargain, bard..." the Nord stroked his chin before letting out a resigned sigh. "But business has been slow. Alright, you've got a deal."
"Wonderful!" Mhari chimed gleefully, thankful she wouldn't have to make the journey alone. "I plan on leaving tomorrow morning, but I'm stopping by Dragon Bridge on the way."
"I'll meet you there," the Nord agreed. "I need to get my horse ready for the journey. "There's an inn there, The Four Shields. Meet me there when you're ready."
"Thank you, mister..."
"Belrand, at your service." The Nord bowed with a friendly smile. "I happen to be the best mercenary in the city; I'm also the only mercenary in this city. You chose wisely."
Mhari chuckled in response; she bid the mercenary farewell for the night and returned to her room, resting easier knowing she would have company on her first adventure.
*Music: 'Postaci (Shadows)' - Dzivia
After a quick grooming, feeding and routine lookover, Mhari spoke softly to Amalthea as she nibbled at a nearby patch of grass. Mhari pulled out the new saddle rug she'd made from her pack and placed it gently over Amalthea's back. She smiled at the sight; the fabric was a deep satin-like ruby red, and bore an intricate white floral pattern within the golden trim bordering, which nicely complimented the deep leather of the rest of Amalthea's tack and saddle. She gave her steed a pat of appreciation and hopped into the saddle, settling in before steering Amalthea into a slow trot down the dirt pathway away from Solitude's gates.
It didn't take long for Mhari to arrive at Dragon Bridge, as it was only an hour's ride from the city. This town was much smaller, and bore a few small houses, a logging mill and the tavern that Belrand had mentioned earlier; The Four Shields. From where she'd arrived, she could clearly see a magnificent stone bridge from which the town had been named; a great stone bridge extending over the Karth River rushing in the valley below. In the midway point of the bridge was a large stone archway carved into the likeness of a horned dragon's head. It was truly a sight to behold. Mhari could see by the empty hitching post by the tavern that Belrand had yet to arrive. She carefully tied Amalthea to the post and dismounted to take a while to explore the town.
It was another fair-weather afternoon, with blue skies and puffy white clouds among the towering mountains of Haafingar. Light snow still speckled the patches of green grass, hinting at warmer weather yet to come. The scent of pine and sawdust wafted into the air from the sawmill, mingling with the odor of a lit campfire nearby, where Mhari could hear the mixed murmuring and chortling of the mill workers. From where she stood, she noticed a Redguard man chopping wood outside of his house when two Imperial soldiers seemed to purposely bump him aside as they passed by, continuing on to a log building nearly with Imperial flags posted outside the entrance. The man glowered after them as she shook his head in disapproval, but he said nothing. He noticed Mhari watching and began to speak. "Seen some mean-spirited folk pass through here lately. Thought I was rid of those sorts when I left Markarth."
"Lots of mean folk?" Mhari asked, frowning at the concerning interactions between the soldiers and the man.
"Both the Imperials and the Stormfolks have sent riders this way, scouting the bridge and the lands nearby. They stayed at the inn, but didn't pay. They said that soldiers don't need to pay because they're risking their lives to protect us. And that's not all. They took a heap of our lumber, and one tried to have his way with my daughter!" the man's brow furrowed as he spoke, his fists clenching at the memory. "They think they can do whatever they want."
Mhari shook her head in frustrated disbelief. I wonder how Captain Aldis would react if he knew some of his men were acting this way to citizens in their own hold... "Sounds like a dangerous time to be raising a family..."
"Of course! Every night I pray that the two armies don't show up to fight for the bridge. And now there's talk of dragons. To be honest, I'm terrified, but..." his gaze moved to a Breton woman in a white head wrap and an auburn farmer's dress, sewing a piece of fabric in front of the house with an excited young boy chattering to her. "I have to stay strong for my wife and children."
"You said you came from Markarth," Mhari began. "How did you come to settle in Dragon Bridge?"
"I grew up an orphan on the streets of Markarth. I'd have died there too but for the kindness of an old warrior named Logrolf the Bent. He was the one who rescued me; gave me enough money to get out of the city." The man pointed out into the distance at the Karth River as it curved it's way beyond the horizon. "I followed the Karth River north and came here. Then I met Michel and I knew this was where I belonged."
Mhari smiled as his expression softened at her name.
"Azzada!" the woman called. "Come help me with dinner, will you?"
"I best get back to my wife; until next time, stranger," Azzada bid Mhari farewell with a nod and disappeared into the house with his wife and son in tow.
As Mhari continued along the pathway through town, she noticed a Nord woman with stringy, shoulder-length black hair leaning against the balcony of her house. She had what appeared to be a permanent scowl etched in the lines of her face as she grumbled to herself.
"I see you've met Azzada. Have you metmyhusband, Horgeir?" the woman asked as Mhari came within earshot; Mhari shook her head in response to her question, stopping to hear what she had to say. "Well, don't bother. He's a useless drunk."
Mhari was uncertain how to respond, but the woman launched into a rant regardless of her silence.
"He promised me, swore on his ancestors, that he'd give up the mead, and what do I find out?" the woman gritted her teeth as she turned her gaze down the path to a red-haired Nord lumberjack with mutton-chops and a thick mustache, chopping and hauling wood while he whistled a tune to himself. "He's been stashing his drinks in a cave nearby. He even has some wolves guarding it!"
"I'm sorry to hear that," Mhari replied awkwardly.
"Tell you what. If you can get your hands on his stash and bring it to me, you can help yourself to whatever mead you find, but bring me the bottle of Dragon's Breath Mead," the woman let out a sinister chuckle as a callous grin spread across her face. "It's his favourite, and I want to see the look on his face when I pour it into the street."
"I-I'll see what I can do..." Mhari stuttered, not wanting refuse the woman her request, in fear of becoming the next target of her venom. The woman pointed beyond the mill to where she suspected the cave to be. Mhari cleared her throat and decided to attempt to change the subject. "I take it your family owns the lumber mill, then?"
"My husband owns it. Barely. He'll lose it soon enough." The woman rolled her eyes and shrugged as she spoke. "He's behind on his loan payments, but he drinks all his money away just the same. Now we're deep in debt, penniless and about to lose our sole source of income."
"And what of the presence of the guards and soldiers; do they bother you at all?" Mhari asked, attempting to stray away from the subject of the woman's husband.
"Nooo, I openly welcome the presence of armed strangers who have no reason to care about any of us!" the woman began sarcastically before throwing her hands in the air. "Of course it bothers me! I'm sure it's only a matter of time until they seize our mill in the name of their war effort. Next thing you know, there'll be more guards, more soldiers, and then we'll lose our homes as well. This is just the start of it. Mark my words."
Without another word, the woman huffed and headed back into her house, slamming the door behind her. Mhari stood in place, wide-eyed at that incredibly venomous interaction. Well, she's just a pure ray of sunshine... She looked down the path to the red-haired lumberjack that the woman had been scowling at, assuming him to be her 'useless' husband. As she approached him he gave her a friendly nod as he lowered his axe to take a break.
"Working hard gives a man reason for drinking hard; well, that and putting up with a wife like Olda," he chortled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Saw you two talking up there; so if you've met her, you probably know what I'm talking about."
"It does seem that you're having some, uh...trouble with your wife," Mhari tried to word her response carefully, uncertain of how the man would respond.
"I swear that woman is the most spiteful shrew in all of Skyrim," he let out a resigned sigh. "I think there's a chunk of ice where her heart ought to be."
Mhari followed him to the log where he and his fellow workers sat overlooking the bridge as they talked amongst themselves. She took a seat beside him and pulled out her own satchel of water.
"How old is that bridge, anyway?" she asked, admiring the stonework.
"Hard to say. It's ancient, that much we know for sure. It was here long before the town itself," Horgeir explained before taking a big bite out of a leg of goat roast. "I just hope the bridge survives the war; it's the only place you can cross the Karth River for a long way in either direction.
"Ah. I suppose that'd be why the Imperials and the Stormcloaks have been sending scouts this way," Mhari nodded in understanding.
"Could be if one side wants to keep the other from coming across, they might try to knock it down," one of the lumberjacks suggested.
"That would be a shame," Mhari frowned. "This bridge is a marvel unlike anything I've ever seen before."
"How has your lumber been selling since the war started?" Mhari asked.
"Demand's never been higher!" Horgeir replied with a proud twinkle in his eye. "At least, not since I build the new mill. It burned down last year, you see."
Mhari chatted amongst the lumberjacks for a while before they headed back to work. Horgeir seems like a decent fellow. I wonder if Olda was always so venomous... With a resigned sigh, Mhari started making her way up the small, nearly-hidden path beyond the mill to where Olda had told her to search. She took note of the midday sun's position, hoping the cave wasn't too far. She continued along the path before she heard a rustling up ahead. She crouched down and quietly made her way through the thicket to see a small wolf trotting along. If he noticed Mhari's presence, he clearly chose to ignore her. She carefully followed the wolf until she came across the cave that Olda had mentioned. Sure enough, among the stone, was a small pack of wolves, all laying about, gnawing on what appeared to be fresh goat legs.
"Well, he knows how to get on a wolf's good side. I guess bribing goes a long way," Mhari chuckled to herself. She slowly approached the pack, who barely acknowledged her. She stepped carefully among them, watching for even the slightest reaction, but the wolves contented themselves with their meals, allowing to pass unchecked. She had no trouble picking up the crate of mead. She slowly made her way back to Dragon Bridge and found the mill empty. "It must be later than I thought; I'd better get to the Four Shields in case Belrand's been waiting for me."
*Music: 'A Winter's Tale' - Jeremy Soule (from the Skyrim soundtrack)
Mhari checked on Amalthea, ensuring she had enough water and grass to graze on. She noted that there were still no other horses in sight. She gave her mare a gentle scratch by the ears before pushing open the doors to the tavern. Compared to The Winking Skeever, this tavern, while similar in style, was much smaller. The Four Shields had only one floor, and a large firepit in the center of the room. Most of the tables and chairs were placed by the walls, allowing plenty of room for dancing and drunken merriment. Across the tavern, she spotted Horgeir seated at a table, enjoying a bottle of mead as he supped on a platter of venison and baked potatoes.
"Horgeir, I believe these are yours." Mhari placed the crate of mead on the table. "Your wife wanted me to bring this to her if I'm being entirely truthful."
"Shor's crown!" Horgeir rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands in the air in resignation. "That woman never gives up. I guess that's why I married her."
A few of the lumberjacks nearby chuckled at this before a shrill voice cut through the joviality of the tavern.
"You have got to be kidding!" Olda stormed across the inn and didn't stop until she was practically nose-to-nose with the wide-eyed Mhari, who stood rigid where she was. "I saw you saunter in here with that crate of mead and here I find you taking his side?!"
Olda whipped her arm back and delivered a sharp slap across Mhari's cheek before storming out of the tavern that had now gone completely silent; Mhari rubbed her cheek, still uncertain of what to say.
"Making friends already are we?" a familiar voice broke the silence from behind her.
Shaking herself out of her moment of shock, Mhari turned to see Belrand regarding her with amusement. "Oh, when did you get here, Belrand?"
"About a minute before that Hagraven did," he shrugged, handing Mhari a mug of ale, which she gratefully accepted.
"I'm truly sorry about that," Horgeir gave Mhari a sheepish wince, clearly embarrassed at his wife's reaction to Mhari's deed. "You're a real friend for saving this mead from her, though. Here, let me show you how to block a punch that might be coming from an angry spouse, huh? I used to be quite the fighter before I settled down and build that mill."
Horgeir rose from his seat and motioned for Mhari to join him in the middle of the tavern. Belrand took a seat and enjoyed his meal while Horgeir gave Mhari some pointers on hand-to-hand combat and basic self-defense.
The rest of the evening was spent with the Horgeir and Belrand, knocking back mugs of mead, singing old folk songs and sharing in a few laughs before turning in for the night. There was a long journey ahead, but Mhari was grateful for a little rest and light-hearted fun before the trials yet to come.
~To Be Continued...~
Q & A Corner:
Are leeks actually poisonous to horses?
Leeks are dangerous for horses, yes. There are various vegetables that you'd think would be safe that are quite bad for them, such as tomatoes and garlic. Remember, if you're going to feed something aside from regulated food to your animals, please, please, please do your research, or ask an expert before you do. Your animals look to you to care for them and keep them safe and healthy, so you should always do your due diligence. Never assume!
Are the points made during Mhari's horse training based on experience?
I wish! I do not get out to ride as often as I would like; I've only had the pleasure of doing do a dozen or so times in my life. I have friends and family however, who are experienced riders, and I love to learn and read about these things during my free time, so most of my knowledge is from books, speaking with actual riders, and research. Who knows, maybe someday I'll have the chance to apply what I've learned on a regular basis in the real world. But for now, I'll live vicariously through Mhari. I like to say I've always been a low-key 'horse girl' minus the actual horse.
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 review below. I'd love to hear what my readers think; what their favourite parts were, what they'd like to see more of, etc. If I receive any questions, I am happy to either answer them via private message, or even as a short QA section in the next chapter. I hope to see you in the next chapter, dear reader.
~Voth Werid
