Not Alone (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

     If I hadn’t been so shocked I might have been embarrassed as the bandits started laughing.  “What is that, ancient Dwemer?” one taunted.

     I hardly even heard her.  Why hadn’t it worked?  That was the very first Shout I had ever learned, and ever since I had used it with no training or preparation after a fight with a dragon I had never had something like this happen.

     I had spoken the words, but I hadn’t felt the normal rush of power that Shouting usually stirred up.  It was like the energy to Shout was used up, even though I hadn’t Shouted since I had used one on Diivanah.

     Gormlaith reared suddenly and I snatched at the reins, jolted out of my momentary surprised paralysis.  All five of the bandits had drawn their weapons.  Three were charging toward me while one was fanning out on each side, obviously trying to surround me.

     Just what I needed, a good fight to get rid of some of this frustration.

     It only took about thirty seconds to slay them all.  Gormlaith took out one while I killed the rest, three with fireballs and one that got to close with my remaining Daedric sword.  After wiping the blood off the sword onto the bandit’s leather armor I remounted Gormlaith and continued on.  The fight hadn’t even caused me to breathe hard.

     I need a real quest.  Something that has nothing to do with Miraak or Shouting.  Maybe if I took a break from all these complications and cleared my head, I would come back and see it all in a different light.

     I finally managed to do what I’d been attempting since I left Solitude and shoved all thoughts of my current situation out of my head.  I couldn’t do anything about this until I spoke to Paarthurnax, so why keep agonizing over it? 

     Fortunately, since even I can’t simply decide not to agonize over something, there were plenty of other things I could agonize over instead.

     For instance, it had started raining again.  Of course, it wasn’t merely raining.  Instead, the omnipresent wind was blowing the freezing sheets of liquid straight into my face.  It was times like these in which I wanted to move as far south as possible and stay there forever, doing nothing but lying in the sun all day.

     I complain about cold a lot, don’t I? 

    

     The rain gradually became less cold as I advanced southward until it was merely a light, warm shower.  Gormlaith trotted sullenly down the road toward the distant walls of Whiterun.  The city looked deserted and weatherworn in the gloom of dusk, but I knew that inside there were bright fires and mead to hold the gloom at bay.

     Lydia greeted me as usual when I slogged into the house.  I replied shortly and headed straight up the stairs to change, already feeling guilty over my rudeness.  For once I shed every bit of my armor and donned a simple tunic and trousers.  I was about to reopen the door and head back downstairs, but as an afterthought I picked up my sword belt, damp though it was, and buckled it on with the Daedric sword still attached.  One can never be too careful in Skyrim.

     I thumped back downstairs and sat in one of the chairs around the fireplace, letting the warmth sink in.  “Let me greet you properly now, Lydia.  It’s been a long day.”

     “No worries.”  She smiled at me briefly, then went back to stirring a pot.  Whatever it was, it smelled wonderful.  “Long quest?”

     “Of a sort,” I evaded.  I really, really didn’t feel like going into detail right now.

     Fortunately she picked up on my mood and started talking about something else.  “Ysolda gave birth while you were gone.  A lovely baby boy it is, and he looks just like his father-”