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Tales of a nordic wolf - chapter 2

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The Pale was cold and harsh as usual, the crisp snow glittering in the dim moonlight. Even at a distance, it was easy to see the building further off under some cliffs, where fires were slowly dying out in the cold.

Varga ran through the snow like she hadn’t before, giving even Teldryn a hard time keeping up, as he silently cursed her speed, brought on by gods knew what; probably her lycanthropy. He had no idea why she was running either, it was just a partly burned-down house by the looks of it and yet she dashed as if her life depended on it. And here he thought they were in a hurry to get back to Solstheim and return Neloth’s damned old staff or whatever it was.

She didn’t stop even as she ran up the stairs and through the now broken apart doorway that splintered apart upon the touch of her shoulder. There were bodies inside, as well as blood and… strange black hounds she had never seen before. By the time Teldryn caught up with her, she had already knelt down by one of the bodies, dressed as vigilant of Stendarr; touching the woman’s head.

“Dead people. Nothing new, is it?” he asked, looking out through the doorway in case they weren’t alone. But it seemed that whoever had caused this were long gone, considering how the snow had already settled over a body just outside the house. When she didn’t reply, he stepped inside to touch her shoulder, hoping to get a reaction from her. She was tense, even before she slammed his hand away and he grunted in response. She rarely, if ever, expressed any anger toward him or anyone else she knew. That alone made him curious and a bit wary since she still had issues controlling herself when upset.

“How about you explain what’s going on?” he continued, looking down at the bodies.

“I knew these people,” came her half-hearted reply, as if all the air had escaped her lungs or maybe the running had finally caught up to her. Teldryn smacked his tongue loudly, looking around them again before walking away to one of the dead hounds, giving it a soft kick to roll it over, watching it for a moment.

“Vigilants of Stendarr? When you’re a… eh, werewolf?” he asked doubtfully, as she stood up, hugging herself dismally.

“It was… before that happened,” she replied. “I grew up here.” She turned around to inspect the other bodies as well as the few books that were still whole after the fire while Teldryn mostly kept an eye out but he had looked at her nevertheless at that news fact. He had questions to ask, but he wondered if this was really the time. Varga took one of the books, a journal by the looks of it, and tucked it in her bag, before looking at the bodies again.

“I can’t just leave them like this,” she frowned dismally. A proper burial would be difficult to arrange here, in this cold and frozen dirt.

“Burn them,” came Teldryn’s voice, looking at her seriously enough.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, it’s already been attempted for one thing… and it seems like the only plausible option in this cold. It’s how we bury our dead. Beats letting their bodies rot in the ground. In this case, above ground, which is even worse.”

Varga gave him a sharp look at the last bit, but she knew he had a point. Burning the bodies would be easiest right now.

“Fine,” she said after a few moments. “Would you gather the… bodies closer together? I'll need to check if there’s a clue here as to who did this.”

He nodded, looking none too pleased though, as he got to work and she wandered off near the dead hounds. Among them seemed to be the remains of a pile of something grey and she stuck her hand in it, realizing it was ash but not any kind of ash. She had learned something from the vigilants after all, her face growing dark upon the realization.

“It was vampires,” she said out loud after a few moments, her eyes narrowing. “Vampires did this to them.” She quickly stood up as Teldryn put the last body in the same line as the others, folding their arms over their chest.

“Well, it seems they died in the attempt too,” he replied, as Varga stepped back outside in the cold, barely feeling it biting at her skin. She didn’t reply, looking towards Dawnstar instead. Being the closest town, maybe they’d have more information, she thought. Besides, it was already late as it was, they’d need somewhere to spend the remaining night.

She heard Teldryn step out behind her and she glanced at him briefly.

“Shall I?” he asked, gesturing towards the building behind them. Her brief nod put him into action as he turned around and started to conjure fire from his hands. It took some effort to get rid of the cold snow that had already found its way inside the house and the wood itself was frozen by now. At least he could make sure that the bodies burned properly, which was the most important thing. But it still wasn’t until after a few good minutes, that he felt secure enough in knowing that the place would fully burn down.
He took care not to show the strain to Varga, though she seemed lost in her own thoughts, watching the fire rise through blank eyes. Instead he brushed his hands off, flexing his fingers a bit.

“What next?” he asked, still feeling that this wasn’t the best time for questions.

“Dawnstar,” she replied, casting a last, long look at the building before turning around to head back to the road.




The walk to Dawnstar had been short and fast, accompanied by very little if any words at all. It wasn’t until they reached the town’s inn that Varga seemed to come to life again, almost charging inside the building. The male innkeeper jumped, though seemed to relax somewhat upon seeing Varga. Teldryn couldn’t help but notice how strange it was that most recognized the Dragonborn, not to say assumed safety in her presence.

“The Dragonborn herself…” the innkeeper smiled a bit. “What can I do for you?”

Varga paused first upon reaching the counter looking directly at the innkeeper who frowned slightly, almost nervously.

“Are you aware of what has happened to the hall of vigilants?” she asked.

“Yeah,” the innkeeper nodded. “Terrible thing that.”

“You knew?” Varga blinked, before slamming her hands down on the counter. “Then why were their bodies just lying there?! You should have given them a proper burial!”  The innkeeper had jumped, along with the few patrons currently resting inside the inn. One of the larger ones stood up, as if preparing for a fight, but Teldryn put his hand on the handle of his sword still resting in its sheath causing the man to pause, question was for how long.

The innkeeper had lifted his palms in a gesture of peace, looking concerned.

“We tried but then Dawnstar was attacked by vampires!” he said quickly. “Now none of the guards dare leave it and none of us want to venture out there without a guard.”

Varga calmed down enough to exchange a look with Teldryn, now that calmness was settling back down among the patrons.

“Vampires?” she asked.

“Yes, haven’t you heard? For the last two weeks or so, more people and towns have been attacked by small groups of vampires than what is normal. This was the first time Dawnstar was attacked so everyone’s a bit… wary now.”

“We’ve been… away for some time. However, it turned out that vampires are responsible for the attack on the hall too.”

“Well… I am not surprised,” the innkeeper shook his head dismally. “The vigilants are the first the vampires would have a bone to pick with, I guess.”

Varga sighed. It seemed Skyrim had been struck with a ridiculous amount of bad luck. Its people were tough and strong but there had to be limits even to them. Dragons, vampires and the whole mess on Solstheim even if that would take at least a year before it’d become a real problem. And the vigilants had become stuck in between and had paid with their lives.

“The vigilants are many and this wasn’t their only hold in Skyrim. The vampires will be in for a shock if they don’t know that,” she frowned afterwards, putting a few gold coins on the counter. “We’ll need a meal and two rooms please,” she finished, as the innkeeper nodded before gesturing to the two doors to the right. Dawnstar didn’t get that many visitors in the first place so it was a chance for both her and Teldryn to get some time off each other, if needed. She didn’t feel it like that, but maybe he did.

Both came back out after having dropped off the majority of their things in the rooms behind locked doors, before settling at one of the tables. The innkeeper came over with some warm stew and bread, as well as water and ale.

“From one trouble to the next, huh?” Teldryn asked after a while, as Varga didn’t seem to strike up a conversation which was unusual for her.

“This is the first… trouble that has hit close to home,” she replied, almost annoyed. “I didn’t agree much with the vigilants, but they were still the closest thing I had to a family.”

“You know that sentence strike me as odd. The few vigilants I’ve encountered have been pretty much zealots in their cause. But you… you’re as far off from a vigilant as one can get.”

“I was… thrown off with them as an older child. But I wasn’t young enough to fully embrace their ideals and ideas. Probably why I lack the appetite for magic; I didn’t grow up with it.”

“Again, it has little to do with it,” Teldryn rolled his eyes. “It seems they knew nothing about magic, that’s for sure. More about how to burn vampires and spike werewolves… not to say cause a high-mouthed fuss about everything.”

Varga’s expression quickly turned into one of disapproval as Teldryn slowly finished what he was chewing, watching her.

“I know you’re upset, but it’s true,” he said flatly afterwards. “What exactly did you do for them anyway? Since you were… denied any proper magic training.”

Varga poked a little in her food, seemingly reluctant to admit to anything.

“Nothing important. I scouted out areas and if I found anything worth reporting, I did so to a senior vigilant, then they dealt with it… and usually sent me out to fetch something or some other errand. It got better when I got older but they had always been unsure of my ‘true’ loyalties.”

“So you were the odd one out, I take it?” he asked, as he casually picked his teeth with one of his nails. She scoffed, taking a drink from the ale.

“You could say that. But it wasn’t really bad… the harsh words and treatment were better than anything else I knew; it was a safe place and sometimes they were real nice. I didn’t have that for a long time after I got separated from them. I didn’t even go back when I could… I mean, it doesn’t exactly say werewolf written over me so they probably wouldn’t even know.”

“Only when you get angry.”

“Wait, what? … Are you serious?”

“Of course. You tense up, your arms flex, there’s something wild in your eyes. But then, I’m aware of your nature, so it’s easy to see.”

“That’s a lot of details to notice, nevertheless,” Varga arched an eyebrow at him.

“You’re part beast. I learned the signs of the transformation very quickly, just in case…”

“Oh… uh, thanks.”

She rested her hands around the mug in front of her while looking down at it, actually glad over the subject change. She couldn’t help but wonder if things would have been different if she hadn’t left, even if that had been involuntarily at best. Things had just escalated after that and by the time she could have changed her mind, she had already grown a taste for the freedom that came with it… and along with that the guilt had grown as well. Her face grew even darker after that thought, visible enough for Teldryn to notice.

“Perhaps it’s best if you just went to sleep,” he suggested. “It’s been a taxing day, no doubt.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed, as she stood up. “You’re staying up for awhile longer?”

He nodded. “Someone has to finish this,” he smirked, gesturing at what was left of the food.

“I need you working by tomorrow, though.”

“Don’t worry, dear patron. If I know your limits, I certainly know my own,” he winked.


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Something stirred Varga in her sleep; something primitive and dangerous that made her subconscious feel stressed. A scent invaded her dreams, a horrible stench mixed with ash and fire. As she came awake, opening her eyes in the pitch darkness of her room, she realized that the scent wasn’t just from a dream. It was very much real and currently in her room.

She moved suddenly, reaching for the bow and arrows next to her, as she spotted the shadow slowly moving towards her from the door. By the time she had just sat up, the arrow was already on its way towards the figure, striking it with a sharp thud. The figure hissed loudly, moving forward fast now, but not fast enough to reach the bed before Varga had rolled out of it, another arrow on the string. It too hit true, causing the intruder to fall to their knees for the moment.

They threw up their arms over the bed, in an attempt to get up again, still hissing more like a beast than a man; when Teldryn suddenly stormed inside the room, a large flame in his hand that shed enough light in the room to reveal Varga’s attacker.

A pale, long face with orange glowing eyes turned towards Teldryn, fangs bared in an angry expression, no doubt for the interruption. Teldryn moved forward but halted quickly when a third arrow was fired and landed straight in the man’s forehead. He fell backwards with a thump, twitching a little before turning into ash.

Teldryn frowned, before looking at Varga who lowered the bow, returning his look. He seemed annoyed, but somehow she knew it wasn’t aimed at her, as he went out of the room. She followed, a bit confused and still with that nasty scent in her nostrils. There were some stray signs of ash flying about in the inn, swooped up by the wind from the open door.  

“Is the town under attack?” Varga asked though she was already heading outside without waiting for an answer really. Teldryn followed, cursing under his breath as he stepped outside.

“In this freezing cold? Sheogorath’s madness take them…” he continued in a mutter. Varga gave him a quick glance, realizing he was running around in no more than a grey shirt, trousers and hastily put on boots. No wonder he was freezing to the point of his teeth clattering. She barely felt the cold herself, despite being in her basic clothes as well.

“It’s not that bad,” she said in a half-hearted tease, looking around for any signs of battle.

“Says the Nord with both dragon and werewolf blood running through her veins,” Teldryn countered. “We should go back inside, it seems clear out here.”

“Vampires obviously like to sneak around,” Varga replied with a frown, as she stepped out in the snow, following the new footsteps out to the town’s main entrance.

“You don’t even have shoes, woman!” Teldryn huffed behind as he followed, looking more than a little peeved.

“Go back to the inn, Teldryn, and let the women handle this,” she continued the tease, as she inspected the ground, ignoring his loud scoff. The sky was clear, allowing all the stars to shine, including the half full moon that didn’t concern her in the slightest right now. From what she could tell there was only two sets of footsteps, so perhaps the attackers had only been those in the inn. There was no sound of fighting anywhere either and it seemed unnecessary to go and wake up everyone up. Even the few guards who stood posted in the town’s centre seemed calm, obviously having missed the inn’s visitors.

“Don’t make me drag you back inside,” Teldryn grumbled behind her, as she did head back to the inn but not because of his complaining. There was simply no reason to stand out there anymore.  

“I needed to make sure no one else was in danger, Teldryn. You know that,” she sighed.
“My concern is you, not everyone else, as you also know,” he replied, shutting the door behind them in some relief. The innkeeper had woken up, hurrying into the main room from the basement where he probably had his own quarters.

“What happened?” he asked, concerned, before realizing he had stepped into what seemed to be ash; lifting his naked foot in confusion.

“Two vampires snuck inside,” Teldryn replied. “They’re… dead now. Might want to fetch a broom as one of them died in my patron’s room,” he continued, making it no less than an order. The innkeeper gulped a bit at the notion of vampires before moving about after said broom and then going inside Varga’s room.

Teldryn left Varga momentarily to check on the other rooms before coming back, looking more relaxed now.

“I’m sorry for not reacting sooner,” he frowned, the embarrassment catching up to him now. If Varga hadn’t been so fast in defending herself, he might have been too late. It was nothing short of sloppy work from his side.

Varga arched an eyebrow at him, otherwise busy brushing off the snow from her naked feet.

“You know I can handle myself, Teldryn,” she said calmly. “I think my werewolf blood woke me up; I… could smell the vampire even as I slept.” He didn’t look entirely satisfied with the reply and to be honest it surprised her. Teldryn was a hired man, yes, but she hadn’t really expected him to take it that seriously, no other hireling had.

“Of course,” he replied when he noticed she was looking oddly at him. Perhaps he did take his work seriously but Varga was… different. His last patron was old and experienced and while they had shared stories, the patron had basically run his own thing. The fact Varga included him as much as she did and seemed less experienced made him feel a bit more involved than just the next pay out. Not only did he have more experience than her, she also seemed willing to listen.

“Besides, you’re the Dragonborn,” he continued with a shrug, his own thought pattern a bit bothersome, to be honest. “I almost feel a bit obliged to do my best in keeping you alive.”

“Yes, well, no self-sacrificing attempts please,” she frowned. Teldryn’s comments about her dragon blood had mostly been in jest; a tease for partly being a giant lizard, but he seemed unusually serious in mentioning it this time.

The innkeeper came back out, sweeping a pile of ash in front of him. “Your room’s… clean again,” he told Varga who nodded her thanks.

“I’ll go back to sleep,” Varga turned to Teldryn. “I suggest you do the same. As much as I’d prefer to stay here and… deal with the vampires, we got other business to attend to in Solstheim.”


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The carriage ride back to Windhelm seemed to take forever, as Varga and Teldryn sat on each side of the wagon, the latter resting his head on his arm, over the edge. Varga was reading the old journal she had found in the hall of vigilants. The journal was passed down to every leader and contained most of their daily lives and news. The woman scowled under the long hair that seemed to have a life of its own thanks to the fast speed they were going in.

“Argh!” she scoffed as she slammed shut the journal, getting Teldryn’s reaction. “They suspected an attack would come but did little to prevent it,” she continued at his unspoken question. He arched an eyebrow before gesturing for the book which she tossed over to him, still annoyed.

He quickly flipped pages to the last entry, reading how the leader had suspected the attack all along, since they had recently cleared out a vampire hold. Several signs had hinted towards the interest of revenge from the vampires but they hadn’t been taken seriously.

“You know, the more I know, the less capable these vigilants seem to be,” he noted out loud.

“They are capable!” Varga protested. “Or were, perhaps,” she sighed afterwards. “They should have known better than to risk their lives. They seemed to know everything when I was with them. A safe haven with its unbreakable people.”

Teldryn was still reading the book having gone back many pages, to the very start. It was clearly another leader back then, considering the change of writing style. Before he knew it, a familiar name started to pop up in the writings; Varga’s own name in daily reports or descriptions.

“Did you read the whole journal?” he asked.

“Not yet.” When Teldryn made an awkward face, she got curious however. “What?”

“Well, the old texts have some… unflattering comments about you. Unruly, impossible to teach magic; there they go with the ridiculous magic notion again, stubborn, a bit of a wild child,” he explained.

“Like I said, I wasn’t young enough to buy everything they said when I came to them. I tried to escape several times the first years. No wonder they titled me ‘the Wolf’ eventually.”

“Ironic,” Teldryn said drily, as she rolled her eyes. “It seems you did accept them eventually though. You performed quite well in later years and…” he shut the book suddenly, giving her a long look.

“You’re only 21 years old,” he stated. Perhaps not so ‘only’ for most people but for him it was very young.

“Only?” Varga frowned, as expected.

“Young.” he continued grimly, handing her the book again almost reluctantly.

She glared at him before opening the book where he had left of; finding it to be about when she had disappeared from the vigilants. What she read shocked her a bit though. They had actually tried to find her after she had disappeared but also quickly gathered up that she might be alive as well as a werewolf. The following pages contained not so kind words at her betrayal, how much sense her rebellious behavior made now and that she was to be killed on sight. The last words seemed to be nothing but utter hatred.

Varga let the journal slip through her fingers, watching it land on the wagon’s floor with a small thud, before hiding her face into her palms. She couldn’t believe they had turned on her so quickly, not even entertaining the idea of a cure, let alone a chance for her to explain! The closest thing she had to a family had just abandoned her in her darkest hour with no regrets.

She flinched when she felt two hands pull away her own from her face and it was first now she realized she was crying. She straightened up quickly, running her finger along her eyes in an attempt to clean up, but she probably looked like half a mess already. Suddenly she was glad she had kept her hair loose for once if only to have it move in front of her face and hide the worst of it.

Teldryn was sitting opposite of her now, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her, his chin resting on the top of his hands.

“You could have stopped me from reading that,” she said, glancing at him accusingly, if briefly. The wind was doing a good job with drying the tears, even if it required some deep breaths to try and stop them from continuing.

“To what point? You’d have read it eventually. Better have it done with. It’s hard to deal with now, but in the end it’ll strengthen you.”

“By Talos, you sound like the Greybeards…”

“With age comes wisdom, I’d say. You’re very young, Varga. Too young to have the responsibilities you have now. The less unpleasant surprises from your past, the better. Trust me on that one.”

She couldn’t answer that one; there was nothing to say really. She still felt hurt and betrayed; all her work in trying to become a proper vigilant and she had just been thrown to the side like that. A lost cause to be rambled about in their journals; a beast to kill on sight.

“Can’t believe I’ve been defending them all this time,” she scoffed after a few moments.
“When it seems they were just looking for an excuse to get rid of me.”

“To be honest… I think you’re better off,” Teldryn shrugged. “You’re the one who lived… and whose destiny was to become the Dragonborn.”

Varga sighed; she couldn’t really buy that reasoning either. Not yet. It was easy for Teldryn to speak like that; it wasn’t he who had been betrayed. Well by the vigilants anyway, she honestly didn’t know enough about his life to make such an assumption.

“The details in the book weren’t all that great,” Teldryn continued. “But it sounds like your departure from them was less than… pleasant?”

“I was out scouting and got attacked by a werewolf,” Varga started, looking more confused than anything else, as if the memory alone was hard to grasp. He might as well know all
the details now after all and in a way it stopped her from thinking about the vigilants.

”The resulting fight made a smaller cliff side collapse and by the time we hit bottom, the werewolf was dead; having accidently shielded me from the worst of it with its body. Half dead myself, I managed to reach Morthal, the nearby town where someone healed me up. I barely remember anything from that; none knew that the bite on my shoulder was a werewolf’s since I was out for several days. As soon as I could I left, because I felt… funny; probably the incoming first transformation. I hadn’t gotten more than out of sight before it overcame me and the nearest target in my frenzy was a guard who was patrolling the outskirts of town.”

“I’m surprised you survived that to start with…” Teldryn admitted. “Most people don’t react well to people they help turning werewolf on them.”

“None really saw it. Maybe they suspected it was me all along but not long before I ventured to Solstheim for the first time I took a quick visit into Morthal; I had to resupply and sleep. None recognized me and none certainly blamed me for it. But then, my last visit had been over a year ago.”

“I notice that you don’t seem too guilty about the guard yourself…?”

“Only the fact that I basically ran for days to get away from Morthal and it took me over a half year before I dared to set foot in another town during any time that the moon was up. Needless to say, eventually I learned when it happened and could plan accordingly.”

Teldryn paused, realizing how rough that must have been. It was a good thing she hadn’t been a mere farmer, because she’d most likely be dead by then.

“So you lived in the wild for… all that time?” he asked almost doubtfully.

“Basically. A lot of time to practice my archery and… think about what had happened. It wasn’t exactly my best time in life. But that’s a whole other story… and this thing is starting to feel a little one sided.”

“It’s not I who’s stumbled upon some old secret. You’d need to leave Skyrim for that to happen to me, my dear patron,” Teldryn smirked slightly. “Considering we won’t reach Windhelm until evening at best… I’d say you’ll get plenty of time to think about this. At least you have company this time…”
So upon further thinking, I am going to make this fanfic into one with random stories, as to avoid the problems that comes with a full on plot. I need a break from a full on plot story. :P The only thing that will have a "plot" really is the relationship.

Again, I am changing some things like buildings and such because I believe the world looks a bit different than in game (game limitations and such)

Skyrim belongs to Bethesda.
© 2013 - 2024 Thren300
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Jotun-Eira's avatar
I love reading this!! Hope you'll write more! :D :D