Early spring, 4E 187, Lakeview manor
"Look, Mori. This is the right thickness of the sauce," Falco lifted a spoon out of the mix, showing how it dripped back to the pot.
Mori, watching closely, nodded.
"You'll be making it next time," Falco smiled. "Let's have a look at the meat, and then start preparing the pies."
As he explained more about fine cooking to her, he felt satisfied. Both his little witchlings have gained weight, even though it has been a daunting task with Mori. She just spent so much time running around shapeshifted into a cat.
The trick, apparently, lay in teaching her cooking and opening up a whole array of tasty meals to her, so she could make them herself later. Especially sweet things. She just couldn't resist honey flavoured dishes.
"Are you plotting something?" she narrowed her eyes at him as she mixed the dough.
"No, nothing, what makes you think that?" he grabbed a dose with dried orange zest. He had quite a lot of those doses, stockpiling on his favourite flavours. Thank the Divines for Khajiit caravans.
"You look like a smiling fox right now," she noted.
"I am simply happy you enjoy cooking with me," he grinned even more.
"I'll make your teeth itch," she grumbled, no actual threat behind the words. "Where is the actual old fox? I haven't seen him the whole day."
"Bjorn? He's gone to Falkreath. Some business with the jarl and to hire more builders."
"More again?"
"Well, yes. He really wants to build this place into a village. Yvaine's little gifts and crafts make it so much easier, so he can focus on building houses and inviting people, rather than securing an income."
"But there is an alchemist in the town, no? Why do so many people want our potions?"
"Because they won't get embarrassed, since their neighbour won't know about all the ailments they suffer from. If you've noticed, the ladies from Madam Grim's estate keep coming pretty regularly."
"For contraception and disease protection, yes." Mori put the dough down. "I have also laid some unborn back to the realm of souls."
"You did?"
"Well yes. All witches and wise women would do that, if need be," Mori shrugged. "We used to stop at camps and villages. When we did, sometimes we'd be called to help. For births too."
Falco nodded. It made sense, but to him, having girls so young deal with burdens so heavy felt…alien.
On the other hand, he had to deal with difficult situations as a boy too.
"Is it very bad?"
"What?" Falco snapped out of his thoughts.
"Our money situation."
"No, not very bad," Falco sat down on a kitchen bench. "Just…not keepable long term as is. We need something that doesn't include raiding dangerous places and selling suspiciously large quantities of gems. The horses you and Bjorn brought will bring good income once we can start selling them. The goats Greta keeps are a good thing too. As well as the food the few farmers we have here grow. The bees are good too, but there's too little of them to keep up for more than what we ourselves need."
"Do you want me to bring more swarms?"
"When we have space for them and someone to do more beekeeping, yes. Bjorn also wants to build a small inn, to start. It might be useful, but it also might not."
"What about dyes? Yvaine can make those."
"Dyes are good. We'll need to establish trade with other places, though. Sheep too, so we could make both linen and wool cloth around here. Maybe dye it outright and sell that too."
"Couldn't fluffier goats make wool too?"
"I've never heard of it," Falco scratched his head. "But I think you should discuss it with Greta. If anyone can make that happen, it's the two of you."
The door to the kitchen swung open.
"Mori!"
"Yes, Yvaine?" Mori turned to her sister, marching in, Tiber behind her belt. A little nixad followed behind her.
"Faolán just had the best idea," Yvaine gently petted the faerie, "we should start growing deathbells! They are needed for all sorts of nice stuff!"
"And why do you need me for it?"
"You know why," Yvaine pouted. "I need a few corpses to make a patch! Let's go hunt bandits!"
XXX
One of Madam Grim's ladies walked to Lakeview, a young man in tow. Luckily for them, they managed to catch the local thane just as he was dismounting his horse.
It was a magnificent animal, dark chestnut with flaxen mane, smaller and more elegant in build than the usual Skyrim horses. But it was sturdy enough to effortlessly carry the Nord.
"Thane Bjorn?" the lady called out.
"That's me, yes," he turned to them expectantly.
"I'm Deirdre, one of Madam Grim's," she introduced herself. Bjorn gave her a lookover - she was probably a half-blooded nord, given her dark curly hair and frosty skin and eyes.
"Last time I was here on business with the little lady, I heard you mention you were in need of guards. This is my brother, Erdan. He used to work as a bouncer at the estate and would like to work for you."
Bjorn gave the youth a look. He seemed well built enough, but there was something about him that gave Bjorn pause.
But he did need guards. "Let's have a trial period. I'll see what you can do," he turned to Erdan, "and if I find you satisfactory, we'll talk employment."
Erdan nodded.
"Great. Come with me. You, madam, can rest here before returning."
Deirdre thanked him. She clearly knew her way around the growing settlement, as she immediately went to a little hut Greta set up for people coming for Yvaine's treatments.
Bjorn motioned for Erdan to follow and went to stable his horse.
The moment they turned to the inner parts of Lakeview, they saw Mori and Yvaine.
Erdan froze. Bjorn merely raised an eyebrow. "Oi, little lady, what is that supposed to be?"
Yvaine was sitting on Mori's back. Mori, in her cat form, had been dragging a dead man towards the garden. Upon hearing Bjorn's voice, she stopped and dropped the corpse on the ground.
Both their heads turned to the men.
"I'm starting a new patch!" Yvaine gave a disturbingly cheerful smile.
"With a corpse? Whose corpse is it, by the way?"
"There were three bandits in the forest close by. I also saw they had stolen Greta's goat and were eating it. I asked Mori to kill them for me. And for Greta. Bandits are alright to kill, aren't they? You said so yourself. That you need to keep your lands free from bandits to please the jarl. I needed deathbells, and they grow best on corpses, you know. So I wanted those for that. All three are dead, but only two were in good enough shape. So a smaller patch."
After finishing her speech, she turned her big, innocent eyes back to Bjorn.
He sighed. "Did you make sure they were bandits and not hunters?"
"Of course I did! I listen to what you and Falco have to say, you know?" her expression turned wounded. "I even watched them ambush a hunter before killing them."
Mori mrowed.
"Falco said it was okay," Yvaine added. "I can make dye out of deathbells too. And sell that."
Bjorn sighed. "As you were." When the witches resumed their gory gardening session, he turned to Erdan. "You alright, lad?"
"What was that?"
"I'm sure you've heard rumours of witches at Lakeview," Bjorn shrugged. "That's them. They're good ones, don't worry. Don't break any laws. Pretty helpful, to your lady sister too. Got a stomach for weird shit?"
Erdan nodded. Slowly.
"Great. So now - rule number one, don't ever stab us in the back. Rule number two, obey the law and me. Rule number three, don't ask about wyrd business. Ever." He scoffed. "Or you might find yourself becoming the wyrd business."
XXX
Early summer
"Are you going out?" Falco stopped in the open doorway of Mori's room. She was packing her small enchanted satchel, one she could wear on her neck while shifted into a cat.
"Yea," she sat on her bed. "Yvaine's patch is growing, the spriggans around here are content and resting, the horses have been primed for training so Bjorn can do that himself and Yvaine is happy having people around. I want to have some alone time fun."
She tilted her head as she noticed his expression. After a short deliberation, she got up, walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders.
"I will be back," she gave a timid smile. "I need this. I need to be wild, as much as I love staying here."
He sighed. "I know. But I worry you will run into a hunter."
"I will be careful. You know I can defend myself."
"I do. Just…stay on your toes, kitten. One stray arrow you are not expecting is all it takes to snuff out a life."
"I will be back," she whispered. And then she was gone, gone like the wind.
Falco blinked. He shook his head - their girls kept pulling more tricks out of their sleeves. Was there even a possibility of ever getting used to their witchcraft? Probably not.
Well, time to go join Yvaine in gardening. What started as a small herb patch grew into an exuberant wild garden of plants he had never heard of before in his life. Poisonous, magical, healing, strange, some of them even looking suspiciously carnivorous.
A wildling and a child of pure chaos. Quite a handful.
He loved them both.
XXX
She trekked around lake Ilinalta and then crossed through the Bleak Falls mountains.
Grass beneath her paws. Stars above her head. Wind in her fur, smells of the wet forest, calls of birds, bubbling of water and whispers of the wild.
That was freedom.
As she leapt from stone to stone, a thought entered her head - but it is nice to have a warm, safe place to return to.
XXX
The spriggan pool was as peaceful as ever. Mori decided to spend the night there. As she lay on a warm stone, spriggan combing through her tail fur happily, she looked down to the golden plains.
She loved deep forests and their quiet might.
But there was something incredibly enchanting about those plains below, warm and full of flowery smells.
Bjorn was hoping to strike a deal with the stablemaster in Whiterun. Maybe coming with him when the time approached wouldn't be a bad idea. She had never visited a town so big before, as she and Yvaine had avoided them.
The largest they had been to was Falkreath. The others, they at most came to the gates and then turned away.
She shuddered. So many people at one place.
But also…
So many new, exciting things and experiences.
The tip of her tail started swishing from side to side. She couldn't wait.
XXX
That morning she snuck around a little farm. The cows grazing in an enclosure looked at her peacefully.
One of them was sick.
Mori looked around. The sun had not really risen yet, the house was quiet and dark.
She shifted back into a woman and climbed the fence. Reaching into her satchel for a handful of shimmering blue powder, she neared the sick cow, humming. She blew the powder on the cow's side, then put her hands on. As she hummed, a little sparkle of energy crossed from her to the cow and the powder dissipated.
Content, she snuck out of the pen, shifted back to a leopard's form and ran away.
XXX
Another day a giant decided to carry her around for a while, singing softly in his deep, thrumming voice.
He showed her their camp, with a strange glowy tree in the middle.
She had never seen a tree like that.
The giant didn't bring her in. He set her down a distance from the camp, then gently sent her on the way.
XXX
Hm. It has been weeks by now. Maybe it was time to go back, so Falco doesn't worry himself into early grey hair.
She made a low rumbling noise - a big cat chuckle. He already had grey hairs in his curls, due to age.
She stretched, tail curling above her back. Well, in the morning she would go. For now, she would find a nice hiding place to spend the night in.
XXX
Something woke her up.
A…feeling.
Familiar feeling. Her fur bristled. A werewolf was approaching.
As much as they acted as clan protectors, they could also be completely lost to themselves. Better be on guard.
Mori snuck out of her sleeping den, moving so her scent would not reach where she had first felt the werewolf's presence.
She moved higher up, but avoided the ridge.
Soon a dark red figure appeared, eyes glowing golden in the dark. She, for it was clearly a female werewolf, sniffed around, ears perked in suspicion. Mori remained unmoving, observing quietly.
Strangely enough, the werewolf was observing too - an old, uninteresting looking nordic ruin little down the slope.
Judging from where Mori first sensed the werewolf, she had been down to the ruins before. It looked like she was trying to see something inside the dome up top, therefore she went higher to get a better view.
Mori's tail twitched. She had better go…she didn't fully trust herself in dominating the beast aspect of werewolves yet, and this one looked formidable. With all her feline grace, she began sneaking away.
Curses and damnations!
The werewolf, not even a few heartbeats later, decided to follow the same route as she, just lower on the slope.
Maybe it would be better to shift into a bird and just fly away…
The wind changed direction.
Her scent went down to the werewolf, who twitched her ears, then turned around to look up. Mori could see the murderous glee in the werewolf's eyes.
She couldn't outrun a werewolf as a cat.
The beast growled.
Mori sprang, leaping over a large crevice. Uncertain terrain will do better for her.
She could hear huffing and growling behind her, as well as scratching of claws on stone. She twisted and turned, climbing higher and higher.
The werewolf wouldn't relent. She was closing in on Mori, completely unhindered by the harsh terrain.
Mori spotted a relatively flat piece of land. She jumped up. Her claws scratched the rock, but the nimble paws of a mountain leopard found purchase. Huffing, she climbed higher, finally standing on a proper platform.
A monstrous hand clawed at the platform.
Mori leapt.
The werewolf yelped as sharp feline claws cut into her flesh. Mori didn't wait. She sank her teeth in the wrist.
The werewolf swiped with her other hand.
Mori let go and sprang backwards.
The werewolf grabbed the ledge and swung herself up. Mori attacked. Her claws lit up.
The werewolf screeched as the ghostly claws cut into her flesh. But it didn't stop her. She lashed out as Mori started retreating. Huge claws sank into Mori's fur, sweeping her off her legs.
Mori twisted and turned, yelping in pain. Her back hit the ground. The werewolf leapt.
Mori kicked up with all her might as the beast-woman flew towards her. The kick was strong enough to send her flying a little bit more.
Mori rolled around, jumping to her feet.
The werewolf attacked again, slashing with her claws. Mori danced around, narrowly avoiding every swing.
The two beasts jumped and swung around each other, claws bright and fangs showing. Fur flew around, followed by drops of blood. The air filled with growls and snarls.
Mori's long tail allowed for better movement coordination and faster turns. She twisted away from a hit. Her next attack tore the werewolf to the ground - she did weigh more than the werewolf.
They both hit the ground. Mori on top. She slashed, once, twice, three times. She sprung away, narrowly avoiding a full hit.
Her breathing was starting to grow heavy.
The werewolf's did too. But not only due to exertion. Blood craze began rising in her eyes.
Not good.
They traded a few more blows. The beast-woman's attacks grew heavier, her voice louder.
Mori started backing away.
The beast-woman pushed in, forcing her against the slope. Another swipe cut open Mori's back.
Mori yelped in pain.
The werewolf pounced. She landed on Mori and pushed her to the ground. Mori kicked and clawed. The beast-woman's belly got cut open, bleeding. She didnt care.
As dark claws closed in on Mori's throat, the leopard gave a commanding growl.
Their eyes met.
Mori forced her will forward into the bloodlust. She needed just a moment!
Something stirred. A beast.
Obey!
For a moment, the werewolf stilled.
Mori kicked her off. She sprung, running as fast as she could. She slipped between rocks and trees, scattered along the slope of the mountain.
Huffing, she shifted back into a woman. She took off her satchel, set it on the ground and in a faint flash of light shifted into a large snowy owl.
She grabbed the satchel into her claws. Wings flapped, body lifted into the air. And she was gone.
Somewhere below, a werewolf roared angrily.
XXX
Whiterun, few days later
"Who got you so bad?" Skjor asked, seeing all the bandages on Embla.
She grimaced. "A damned cat, would you believe it?"
"I find that hard. Sabre cat? Did some of the snowy ones wander this far south?"
"No. Not a sabre cat. It was smaller, spotted and had a long tail. Found it hiding when I was trying to get a look at the forge in Silent Moons."
Skjor pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you just had to go after it instead of investigating more?"
Embla shrugged. "They were on alert. Not like I could sneak in." She bared her teeth. "And I did go hunting only after I was sure I couldn't get a good look."
"So where's the skin?"
"I didn't get it," Embla grew serious. "I would have, even though it was a tough bastard. But at one moment, it…I…I don't know what happened. One moment I'm ready to kill, the other the cat is gone, running away. And when I pursue, there is suddenly no cat. Poof, just like that."
"Are you sure you didn't get too close to silver?"
"I didn't hallucinate!" Embla snapped. "Do you think these are fake too?" she pointed towards her bandaged side.
Skjor had to relent. The wounds were real enough, and not made by blades. But that was not important. Their adversaries were.
He patted her on the shoulder. "You heal from your kitty scratches. I will go ask Kodlak about what he had found."
XXX
Vilkas had been listening. After he heard Skjor end the conversation, he retreated from his spot, sat on a bench in the hall and opened a book. The bench was far enough for him to not fall under suspicion of eavesdropping, but close enough to the hiding spot he had chosen to do just that.
And he had worked on being seen reading a book there often enough to not be a strange sight.
Skjor left the room, paying no heed to Vilkas reading in his usual spot. After a while, Embla left as well, going upstairs. She also didn't pay attention to him.
Vilkas turned the page of his book. The anxious pressure in his chest eased up. He ought to concentrate on the strange doings of the two, but his mind kept racing towards one thought - that must have been his leopard!
He had seen it in the Bleak Falls mountains. Now Embla almost killed it on the other side of the plains.
He hoped the spirit, or perhaps a witch, would go into hiding for a while. Embla was a relentless hunter, and if anyone could kill a mythical creature like that, it was her. He grimaced. Embla is interested, and she will not relent in the hunt for the mountain leopard.
He got up and went to his room. There he picked a notebook and a map and placed them on the small table he had. He marked a rough location on the map, then went through his notes.
He needed to get to the creature first. He needed to give warning. He needed to ask questions. He needed…he wanted…
He stopped reading. What was it he wanted? Why couldn't he let the creature go? It was just a wild being who decided to bestow mercy.
It made him feel less lonely.
He shook his head. He shouldn't put his desires on an unobtainable creature. He should just work on making a place for himself here, where he belonged. Skjor will relent once Vilkas proves himself worthy of the Blood. He was a stubborn mule-headed ass, but he was practical and wouldn't let his distaste and resentment cloud his actions once Vilkas properly proved himself.
The man in question rudely broke his thoughts. "Vilkas! Get in here, Kodlak wants to speak with you!"
XXX
"Why do we need to go to Winterhold?" Farkas asked as they saddled their horses.
"Skjor asked Kodlak to look into something," Vilkas answered.
"And what's that?" Farkas pointed at boxes stacked in a cart.
"Our invitation to enter the College," Vilkas sighed. "They don't just let anyone go to their library, you know."
"But why?"
"Because people don't trust mages so easily. Who knows what a random visitor could do there. Books are fragile."
"So what's inside the boxes?"
"A shipment of supplies," Kodlak entered their conversation. "Normally, we or other groups get hired to escort them to Winterhold. I offered to escort them for entry to the library instead. The mage I contacted agreed."
"Who is that mage?"
"One of the instructors there. Tolfdir. Hrakni introduced us."
Vilkas sighed. Of course it was Hrakni. Is there a place the man hasn't been to or made friends at?
Farkas poked one box. It made a slight tingling noise. "But what is inside?"
"It is probably better we don't know exactly." Kodlak climbed up the driver's seat. "Into the saddle, boys. It is high time we set out."
XXX
"I'm bored," Farkas groaned. They had just left Whiterun Hold and spent a few days travelling already.
"And my ass hurts."
"Walk for a while, then," Vilkas offered. "But it would do you good to train your muscles for riding more. You could move faster between jobs."
"I can always catch a cart," Farkas remained on the horse but grumbled in adversity.
"Not always."
"And it's not like I can take the horse with me all the way. It won't wait by the cave or fort or wherever. It will just go eat things." he sighed. "Can we stop for lunch?"
"We just had breakfast," Kodlak cooled Farkas' enthusiasm.
XXX
"Can we stay the night? Please?"
Kodlak and Vilkas looked at Farkas, longingly staring at the Nightgate inn before them.
It was a little bit too early to stop…but there was no such inn to be reached in days of travel. Only a sparse stop or two, shabby log cabins and no good food. It would only get worse the further north they travelled.
Kodlak chuckled. "Yes we can."
"Woo!"
The inn was warm, the music pleasant to listen to and the food divine to eat. For the night, the Companions had a good sleep.
XXX
"Are there any cabins close by?"
"Not that I know of!"
They had to raise their voices. After leaving the Kastav valley and entering the open area east of it, the winds hadn't stopped howling. The grass on the cliffs was aggressively green, although they couldn't really appreciate the color, as the skies roiled with clouds for most of the days. Sun peaking out of the toiling cauldron was a rarity, and more often than not, it rained.
Wolves howled in the mountains to their right, sheep wandered freely wherever they looked and there were basically no people to be found.
Trees grew sparsely, but were present. Rarely a stone cabin with turf roof huddled under one of those, slightly protected from the harsh winds.
Sadly, today there was no cabin to be found.
At this time of year, the 'eternal day' of the northern regions already started shortening, making looking for shelter somewhat harder.
"We'll have to make do with tents!"
"What about that crevice over there?" Vilkas pointed to a darker spot in the cliffside. "It will protect us partially!"
They made a camp in the crevice. It was not windproof and the light of their fire danced wildly, but it was better than resting on the plain outright.
As they chewed on jerky and dry bread, Vilkas found himself longing for a proper meal. That would make this miserable journey more digestible.
I have to learn how to cook…
XXX
At long last.
Winterhold.
Rare instance of sunlight poking through the clouds greeted them that evening. The rays bathed the town in warm light…and clearly showed its bleak state.
The wall and entry gate looked imposing enough. Massive stone, reminiscent of ancient nordic structures, roofed with dark wood.
Vilkas' eyes wandered along the wall.
It just…ended. The stone was torn to pieces. The cliff also ended just there, eerily stuck out into the air.
Only a lone guard, huddled in furs, stood at the gate. The woman looked them up, nodded at the Companion pendant Kodlak showed her and made a soft eh as she noticed the college insignia on their cargo.
She waved them in, grim and quiet.
Most of the functional looking buildings were huddled along the mountain slopes to their left. They were built in the same style as the wall, and the same wear and tear could be seen. Moss covered many of the roofs and hung down like beards of mystical forest men.
The buildings on the right looked even worse. Roofs collapsed in, holes in the massive stone walls, empty windows devoid of lights. Silvery green firs grew wild and unchecked between those houses, an attempt at holding the soil together as much as possible.
Far enough into the cliffside, the town just…sunk into non-existence.
Buildings were torn in half or less, some of them even hung low on the sinking cliffside. The only creatures bold enough to wander over there were sheep, grazing without worry, and birds screaming from below the cliff.
Very few people walked the streets. The ones that did moved as quickly as possible to spend the least amount of time in the whistling winds.
"I do hope the inn is more hospitable than the rest of the town," Farkas grumbled as they stopped under the sign saying The Frozen Hearth.
XXX
Decided to take some creative liberties with Winterhold. Ingame it was so underwhelming. I took inspiration from a few mods I have seen or played and then gave it some personal touches. As for the landscape, I looked up some videos of Faroe Islands for inspo. Hope you like it :)