Change of Plans
Turdas, the 20 th of Last Seed, 4E 201
{“DOVAHKIIN.”}
A single word echoed across the lands like thunder as the pair descended the cliff face at the rear of the burrow. Asling paused and raised her head, shivering, then dismissed the noise as weariness from the battle. Must have been her imagination.
They had just managed to get out of Bleak Falls, discovering that the rear exit was right across from Lake Ilinalta, just east of Riverwood, which made their trip shorter than expected. But as Asling had pointed out that morning, the back door was carved right into the mountain, so they had to carefully climb down before trekking downstream and into town.
Asling was taking a moment to enjoy the scenery when she heard a familiar angry voice and redirected her attention to her companion, whom was attempting to trek down a few yards below her.
“Ugh... why do I have to carry this thing again?” Adair grumbled, hefting up the Dragonstone a little higher as they weaved their way down. The ground crumbled beneath him while he was busy complaining and he skid down the incline a few feet, cursing loudly until he regained his balance.
“And why in Oblivion did we take this way?” He growled angrily, brushing himself off and glaring up at Asling.
She was currently clinging to a boulder and roaring with laughter, replying to him after she had calmed herself. “Ha! Would you have rather gone back through the crypt?” Asling grinned at him, picking her way down the cliff without much difficulty as her load was much lighter.
“No.” Adair said flatly. He gave her a blank stare before walking off without her, headed towards Riverwood. Asling snickered again and he sent her a look over his shoulder, warning her to drop the subject immediately.
They had a good hike ahead of them before they reached town, and given there weren't many hours left in the day, Adair was pushing them to go as fast as possible so they wouldn't be traveling too long in the dark. And at least this way, they wouldn't have to sleep outside.
They hadn't even made it to the treeline before Asling rushed over in a panic and yanked Adair to the ground by his shoulder guard. “Down! Down!” Asling hissed, stifling any protests with one hand.
Irate at the lack of explanation, Adair glared at her and Asling merely nodded her head wordlessly towards the sky, all of her previous humor gone. He followed her line of sight, gritting his teeth; swooping down among the treeline they needed to go into was a dragon, its greyish green scales catching the sun's rays and shimmering.
This was going to slow progress...
Asling had her face half buried into Adair's hair, her now trembling hand still clutching at his shoulder as they listened to the beast tear through the trees, hunting some poor unfortunate soul. Adair couldn't believe that this little wood elf cowering behind him not only killed a dragon, but was the only one who could make sure they stayed dead.
Fighting it and killing it would be the responsible thing to do, although he had to admit that given the long day they had, he was in no mood to fight something that ferocious...
There were great roars coming from the woods ahead, the once sweet breeze carrying the stench of ash and charred flesh and finally, the dragon rose again into the air, a half dead elk in its claws as the pair scrambled for cover. There were few landmarks that would make good shelter, so they flattened themselves along the side of the hill among the jutting rocks, hoping that the scarce shadows would be enough coverage provided they didn't move. They watched with baited breath as the dragon flapped its great wings and soared higher, elk still writhing feebly in its grip as it disappeared over the mountain.
The shadows steadily grew longer and they waited until Asling could feel the muscles in her calves grow tight and sore, but the dragon did not return. “I think... he's going now...” she said meekly, loosening her grip on Adair and gradually getting to her feet, her legs feeling like rubber, protesting after staying scrunched up for so long.
Adair shook himself off, casting a wary glance back at the mountain then trekking forward. “Come on then,” he said curtly; avoiding the dragon had cost them precious time, and now it was almost dark. Making a rude gesture behind his back, Asling scurried to catch up with him and the pair traveled into the trees in silence.
Even in the rapidly fading light, they could still see the scorched patches of grass and dug up earth from where the dragon's claws had landed. Asling shivered a bit, keeping close to Adair as they passed by what surly had been the elk's last location before the dragon claimed it, blood soaking into the earth and turning it dark.
They had just crested over the last hill before Riverwood, the faint glint of torchlight from the guards a welcome sight. Now they just needed to get across the river into town and they could finally eat and rest.
“Okay so... what about ghosts?” Asling asked as they crossed the stone bridge and looped around to get back into town.
“Ghosts?” Adair turned to her, his face scrunched up at the sudden comment.
Asling nodded, fidgeting with her bag and looking at him funny. “Ghosts; you know, semi corporal spirits? Are you afraid of them?” She spoke in a way that suggested he should have known exactly what she was talking about.
Adair let out a sigh and shook his head. “I don't even believe they exist.” She was on this again...
“Well sure they exist,” she insisted, stepping past him to get the door to the inn. She opened the door for herself then let it fall back, almost hitting Adair in the face.
Adair roughly shoved the door open in annoyance. “I've never seen one before –”
“Then how can you be sure they don't exist?” Asling cut in, earning a loud huff in response.
“Whatever... and no. If they exist – and they don't – I'm not afraid of them,” he grumbled out, slinging the Dragonstone up onto one of the tables. He jerked his head over to the barmaid, Delphine then pointed at Asling.
“I paid for the food last time; you're paying for the room. Now go see if there's one available so we don't have to camp outside,” he ordered.
“Oh yes, what ever Mi'lord wishes,” Asling gave him a mock bow and another rude gesture – this one in plain sight – then went over to inquire about a room. She reluctantly paid up for the room, pleased at least that there would be a bed, even if it meant they had to share again. Better than outside in the cold. She ordered food for them both, then went back over to the table.
“Pay up; I got the room but I'm not paying for your meal,” she said, holding out a hand and wiggling her fingers until Adair slapped a few coins into her palm.
Stingy bitch, he thought with distaste, looking disgruntled. A little while later when a stony faced Orgnar brought them their meals, he had to admit to himself that Asling at least had good taste in food; she could have ordered him nothing but uncooked vegetables. And a little while after that when he was watching her drunkenly singing along with the bard in the corner, he decided she had had too much of a taste for mead as well.
He turned in well before her, waking to the feeling of the bed shifting as she joined him. He closed his eyes as she kicked her boots off then cuddled her face into his back, passing out almost immediately. Adair closed his eyes, letting out a grunt as Asling flung her hand up around him, smacking him in the face. Nudging her hand out of the way, he scooted up the bed, growling low as she moved with him, her face buried in between his shoulder blades.
Too tired to keep fighting it, he gave in and laid still. Whatever, this was the last night he would have to deal with this. Come tomorrow evening at the latest, he would be rid of her.
Adair had awoken rather early, rolling over and discovering that she was no longer there. Gritting his teeth, he swung his legs out of bed and quickly got dressed, checking to make sure all his belongings where there.
Relief flooded through him when he found the Dragonstone, safely tucked under the bed with his bag with everything still inside, but it still made him wonder; where did Asling run off to?
He thought it was rather odd that he hadn't seen that weird barmaid yet this morning, but he fact that Asling was missing again was a far more urgent matter. In a rush to find her, he stepped outside, looking one way then the other when the town drunk stumbled over, reeking of ale and already sloshed before most folk had even had their breakfast.
“You lookin' fer your friend?” He spoke in a groggy slur.
Adair wrinkled his nose in distaste then cleared his throat. “Er... yes actually,” he said, both hopeful that she was still and town and wishing that she had ran off in the middle of the night. At least that way, he wouldn't have to deal with her any longer.
The drunk pointed off to the side, slurring out a reply. “She's in the general store... had somethin' shiny in her hand.”
The claw. Of course.
After politely thanking the drunk and skirting around him at a careful distance, Adair stomped up the road to the Riverwood Trader.
Entering the shop with his jaw set in a deep scowl, he found Asling in the same spot as last time; leaning over the counter chatting with the shopkeeper, whom was eagerly showing her his wears. He noted the claw was sitting on the counter and realized that she had actually returned it... most likely for a reward judging from the generous pile of gold on the counter between her and the shopkeeper, but it was still more... altruistic than he expected of her.
“Ah, Adair...” Asling spoke. Her head had turned the moment she heard the door opening, hastily slipping something into her bag before Adair could see what it was. She passed a small portion of the gold to Lucian and stowed away the rest. “What? Did you really think I would just leave after going through all that trouble getting that blasted thing?” She gestured to the Dragonstone then sent Lucian a wave, whom was busy watching Adair.
“Part of me hoped so,” Adair said blandly as they stepped outside, heading back to the tavern for a quick breakfast.
“Poor you...” Asling scoffed in return. “You won't get rid of me until we're back in Whiterun and I've got that reward in my hand,” she told him, and he did not doubt her words in the slightest.
After breakfast, they set off for the capital, making good enough time that they reached the gate of the hold rather early in the afternoon. Whether it was because both of them were in high spirits from a good night's sleep, or they were ready to be rid of one another, there was no arguments between them along the way; Asling even holding the door for Adair as they entered Dragonsreach.
“Manners at last, thank you,” Adair chimed. Asling let out a snort but said nothing else, stepping lightly up the steps to speak with Farengar.
Farengar was bent over the table, speaking with a hooded figure over a warn out looking map. He raised his head at the sound of their boots on the wooden floor. “Oh? You got the stone and didn't die? Perhaps I was mistaken about you,” he commented, straightening as Adair drew the Dragonstone off of his back, eying the figure with curiosity.
The figure dipped their head to keep their face hidden as Farengar instructed them to go see the Jarl. Adair cast one last look back at the figure, deciding that after Asling left, he would go investigate. He could have sworn he saw that person before...
Standing before Balgruuf with an eager expression, Asling bounced from one foot to the other; this was taking longer than she had expected, but she ceased her fidgeting as Balgruuf sat up in his seat.
“I dub you Thane of Whiterun,” he spoke, and Asling sent Adair a smug expression, earning an eye roll. Balgruuf went on despite the lack of focus from his audience. “And I assign Adair to be your personal housecarl–”
“What?!” Asling and Adair said in unison, meeting each others' gaze and glaring. This was more horrifying than the thought of fighting that dragon outside the Burrow. Balgruuf let out a low chuckle of amusement.
“I suppose you don't agree? But you've both proven that you work well together, given that's the quickest I've ever had a quest completed,” he spoke, clearly taking great pleasure in their dislike of the situation. He looked pointedly at Adair, his demeanor more serious.
“Should you not want to travel together, that decision lies with Asling, but my word stands,” he said, leaning back in his seat. “But that brings up another matter... the Greybeards are seeking audience with you.”
“Grey... beards?” Asling said slowly, her face scrunching up.
Balgruuf had a patent expression on his face as he explained. “Did you not hear their summons the evening before? They're calling for the Dovahkiin, the Dragonborn.”
Asling grimaced. “Of course it was a call for me, as that's just what I need,” she said, sarcasm thick in her tone but Balgruuf was in no way hindered by her attitude.
“An audience with the Greybeards is a great honor, you should heed their call.”
“Err... right. I'll think about it,” she consented; anything to end this conversation so she could leave.
Reward now in hand, Asling fled down the steps from Dragonsreach and away from Adair's protests. As soon as she tried to dismiss him so she could leave for Riften, he began insisting that they go see the Greybeards instead.
“So you're just going to leave without speaking to them? They could have insight on the dragon attacks,” he started as they approached the gigantic doors to leave Dragonsreach.
“I think not. I'm not here to fight dragons,” Asling said, ducking out the door.
Adair followed her outside, still trying to change her mind. “I think you should if you have any sort of honor,” he reasoned.
“I thought you had already guessed by now that I have no honor,” she sneered, trying to walk past him down the stairs but he blocked her path. “Move,” she ordered, but Adair stood firm.
“This is just irresponsible,” he spoke, crossing his arms. “Skyrim needs a hero right now–”
“I don't WANT to be a hero!” Asling screamed at last, the brittleness of her tone silencing Adair.
“I don't want it... I didn't CHOOSE to be Dragonborn, and it's not what I want. I wanted...” she shook her head, a disgusted look on her face that she could not find the right words to describe what she felt, redirecting her anger at Adair.
“Even then, if you want to play hero so bad, why don't you go save Tamriel? You Thalmor are always sticking your noses where they don't belong.”
Adair's face twisted at her words; clearly she had struck a nerve. “I am not a Thalmor agent...” he said through gritted teeth.
“Oh really? Hard to tell with that high and mighty demeanor you have,” she taunted.
Adair's fist clinched tightly, his joints popping; he had tried the nice route, but now that she was testing his patience. “What about you? You wanted to be a thief forever?”
“At least as a thief, I only had myself to disappoint and not an entire nation,” She sniped, and Adair was caught off guard by the underlying melancholy in her voice. Asling must have sensed this and walled herself up again. “I rather stick to the shadows, it's what I'm best at,” she finished, slipping past him to head down into the Wind District.
“I hate to break it to you, but there won't be any shadows to slink into if these dragons overrun Skyrim,” Adair tried a different approach, trotting down to match pace beside her. “Do you really think they won't spread all over Tamriel and just stay here?”
“Don't you have someone else to follow around and nag?” Asling huffed, earning a dry laugh from Adair.
“Unfortunately no; a housecarl tends to their Thane's estate and other personal property, but seeing as you've no property in Skyrim, I suppose you are stuck with me,” he lied. This was partly true, as Asling could just order him to stay here, but Adair was willing to breech orders and... tolerate this annoying girl if it meant keeping Skyrim safe. If she wouldn't make the effort herself, then he would have to squeeze it out of her.
They stood there while Asling thought, a mutinous expression on her face at his words; she knew he couldn't be telling the entire truth about following her; Balgruuf himself said that it was up to her discretion on what he should do. Doubtless he would follow her into Oblivion if she didn't just agree to what he said, and she begrudgingly had to admit, he was right about the dragons.
“Fine... I'll see the blasted Greybeards and if I must have you with me, than so be it...” Asling spoke at last, looking down and kicking a rock with her boot. This was going to be more of a hindrance than a help, but perhaps an ally would be best; unwanted or not. And, he did have a map and knew Skyrim better than she did; the hard part would be getting him to take her to where she needed to go without him asking questions, but she had faith that she could find a way.
“Well... now that we're stuck together...” She said slowly, meeting Adair's gaze and half shrugging. “Want to get drunk?”